#we're shouting tonight
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glittergroovy · 3 months ago
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taryn40k · 6 days ago
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Ah, more audience members for tonight's representation!
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chiropteracupola · 1 year ago
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sharpe interesting to me for reasons that I can't even tell are actually in the show or not... it is partially that I got introduced to the land parts of the various napoleonic goings-on in a sort of Archaeological context to start out with, so when I'm watching these guys cross back and forth across spain, losing items and burying friends and enemies as they go, I do keep thinking of hundreds of years in the future and where those things will be. lost shako badges and stray bullets will turn up eventually. wooden grave markers will rot. names will be forgotten and skeletons will remain, buried on a hilltop and maybe someday found. time passes and the dusty weight of history is a very present thing.
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asstrofem · 7 months ago
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i need to value sleep more.
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soft-girl-musings · 10 months ago
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hmm
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1/3 of this is still in outline mode, i think this needs to be 2 chapters
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loserboysandlithium · 4 months ago
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The Pact: Eddie Munson One Shot
Summary: As children, you and Eddie made a pact to never cross that line. But as the two of you have grown it has become almost impossible to keep. You decide to make a new pact instead. ;)
Explicit sexual content, Minors DNI, word count 3k, moved over from my old account 🖤
*******
"Eddie!" you knock loudly on the door of his trailer. His van is here so he's gotta be home.
"Eds?!" you try again, banging on the door even louder.
He's probably still sleeping. The boy doesn't wake up earlier than noon, especially on a Saturday.
You close the screen door and make your way around the trailer to his window. It's cracked slightly and the smell of weed immediately hits your nose, making you smile. He's up.
You push up on the old window, listening to the squeak as it struggles to move. "Eddie!" you shout through the crack. Again, no response.
You roll your eyes as you use all your strength to lift the window enough to crawl through. You climb in head first and tumble onto his floor. As you sit up, your eyes adjust to the dim room. You see him lying on his back on the floor, headphones on his ears, his fingers tapping away as he listens to the music.
No shirt, his tattoos on full display. Hair pulled back into a messy bun, loose curls sticking out everywhere. A pair of dark green flannel pajama pants hanging low on his waist.
Fuck, he looks good.
You watch as he brings his fingers to his lips, inhaling on the joint, releasing a cloud of smoke into the air. You tiptoe across the floor, hearing the tune of 'Dirty Women' by Black Sabbath coming from the headset as you lean over him.
His already round eyes widen even more as he sits up quickly, his head slamming into yours.
"Shit! Are you okay?" he shouts over the music still blasting in his ears. You reach out with one hand removing his headphones, leaving them dangling around his neck as you rub your forehead with your other.
"Easy Tiger." you giggle and he gives you a crooked grin. His eyes are glossed over and slightly red from his activities.
"Sorry, didn't hear you comin.” he explains, pointing towards the earphones.
"Yeah, I got that.” you smile, shoving his shoulder lightly as he scoots a little closer to you.
"Thought you were coming by tonight?" he raises an eyebrow as he stands up, holding his hand out to you. You grab his hand and he pulls you from the ground.
"My shift got canceled and I was bored." you shrug, reaching out for the joint in his hand.
"I have an idea.” Eddie says suddenly, his brown glinting. You inhale deeply on the joint and wait for him to continue. He stands there silently, eyes zoning in on your chest.
"Eddie!" you smack him upside the head bringing him out of his daze and he shakes his wild hair.
“Sorry.. I'm high." he shrugs with a little wiggle of his brows.
"Your idea?" you push.
"Right.. the clubhouse. Let's hotbox." A slick smile spreads on his pretty lips. Every time you're together, you have to fight the urge to kiss him. To touch him. To beg him to touch you.
You had both made a pact. An oath. You were best friends. You couldn't cross that line. But now.. every year it gets harder and harder to keep it.
I wonder if he feels the same.
"Hello?” Eddie snaps his fingers in front of your face teasingly.
"Mhmm.. yeah. Let's go." you grin at him and his smile widens. He walks over to his nightstand, swiping up his little lunchbox.
You make your way outside, following the familiar trail into the woods behind the trailer park. You used to come here all the time together. Staying up, eating bags of candy and telling scary stories until Wayne would come and drag you both out.
You reach the rickety ladder leading high into the trees and glance over at Eddie, a nervous look on your face.
"When's the last time you've been up here? It looks... well, it looks like we're gonna die if we attempt this."
"Oh, we're fine. Come on. You first." he encourages, his hand landing on your waist. The small touch sends tingles down your spine.
"Why do I have to go first?" you groan, grabbing hold of the wooden plank.
"That way I can catch you if you fall." he explains, keeping his hand resting gently on your side. You take a deep breath and begin your climb.
"Shit!" you squeal as your foot slips on the third step and you fall into Eddie, his free hand lands on your ass, holding you up.
"Oops." you laugh, turning to peek at Eddie. His hand remains in place making you blush.
“Eds?" you nod towards his hand and he just smiles.
"Total accident, sweetheart. Swear." he cheeses. Your heart starts to pound in your chest. He's flirting. Shit, no... He always flirts. It's just friendly banter. Normal for the two of you. But is that all it is? Fuck.
You continue up the ladder, Eddie following close behind until you reach the top. You push the Spider-Man sheet to the side and crawl into the small treehouse. Everything looks about the same. A few new additions since the last time you've been here.
An ashtray sits in the corner, a stack of playboy and hustler magazines sprawled out, some empty beer bottles.
"Eddie Munson.." you giggle, shaking your head in mock disappointment.
Eddie plops on the dusty floor reaching out and snagging one of the magazines. "What? A man has needs."
"Ew." you joke, grabbing his lunchbox, plopping a pre rolled joint between your lips.
"What? You don't uh, take care of yourself?"
The question catches you off guard. But even more than that, his tone. It was much deeper than before. You hope your cheeks aren't as red as they feel as you meet his gaze. You light the joint, inhaling deeply, holding the smoke in your lungs a moment before exhaling.
"No, I do." you whisper, taking another toke.
Eddie watches you curiously, scooting a little closer to you in the already cramped space.
"You gonna share?" he winks at you, making your heart flutter. He's so close. All I want is to taste him. To finally give in.
"Hey, you okay?" Eddie nudges you playfully with his foot, shaking you from your thoughts. You nod sitting up on your knees in between his sprawled legs. You bring the joint to his lips and his eyes lock on yours as he inhales slowly.
You inch closer, the slight buzz from the weed making you more confident.
"Are you about to kiss me?" Eddie blurts making you pause.
"What? No!” you snort shoving his chest hard, making him fall back to the dirty floor. He coughs, the smoke filling his lungs coming out in small spurts as you move back to your spot against the wall, feeling a wild mix of emotions.
He scrambles to get back up, immediately coming to sit in front of you again. “I- uh- I wasn't gonna stop you.. if you were going to... ya know?" he mumbles under his breath.
You meet his big brown eyes, the same eyes you've looked into for years and years. There was no mistaking it. They were darker. Full of hunger. A hunger for you.
Shit.. say something. Anything. Your mind goes blank. Every part of you wanting to just kiss him.
The other part of you worried about your friendship. The whole reason the two of you made the pact.
"The pact.” you breathe.
Eddie speaks next, leaning back slightly, twisting one of his rings on his finger.
"Who do you think about when you touch yourself?" he burns lowly, his eyes searching your face.
"What?”
"Who do you think about?" he asks again, his eyes remain locked on yours.
You. Always you.
You shrug instead, keeping your thoughts to yourself.
Eddie nods slowly, taking another long puff off the joint before handing it your way. The small area was already cloudy with smoke as you both continue to add to the haze.
"It's not like we made a blood oath or something."
Eddie says after a few minutes. Both of you now feeling the effects of the high.
"We literally made a blood oath." you argue, a smile on your lips as you think back to the two of you pricking your fingers with a thumb tack.
"We were thirteen." Eddie pushes back, moving over so he's sitting right next to you. You can feel his body warmth radiating against your side. When you turn his face is only inches from yours.
"Where is this coming from?" you whisper.
"I just.. fuck, I don't know. Just, look at you." Eddie breathes out, his words making your entire body warm.
"Who do you think about?" you ask suddenly.
"I don't know what you mean." he grins widely, forcing you to ask him directly.
"When you touch yourself.. do you just think about those girls in the magazine?"
"Sometimes.. sometimes I think of someone else." he hints as his hand gradually makes its way to your thigh.
"Me?" you swallow hard, barely pushing the word out.
"Do you think about me?" he challenges, his hand resting heavily on your upper thigh.
"Yes." you admit. You knew it wasn't the drugs.
You've always wanted Eddie. But the buzz was allowing you to finally speak your truth.
You can tell he's happy with your answer, his face lighting up. His brown eyes gleaming.
"Show me."
"I don't under-'
"Show me what you do when you think about me." he cuts you off swiftly.
Holy shit. Your mind fills with wild thoughts as you take what he said into consideration. You can feel yourself throbbing at the thought. Touching yourself in front of him. Eddie's eyes watching you as you bring yourself to your peak. Would he touch himself too?
Before you can change your mind you guide your hands into your shorts, listening as Eddie inhales sharply.
"Fuck." he exhales, watching carefully as your hand meets your warmth under the material of your shorts. You close your eyes, worried that if you see him you might overthink everything.
Right now it just felt good. So good.. and you know he's watching.
"I close my eyes." you start, slowly rubbing circles around your clit. Eddie hums in response, waiting for you to keep going.
"And I see your face. I-I think about how your lips would feel.. your tongue. the sounds you would make..." you moan as you slip two fingers inside, feeling your arousal.
"What else?" Eddie rasps, his lips suddenly against your ear, his voice makes you speed up your fingers.
"I think about how you would feel inside me.. if you would be rough.. if you would.. ohh.. if you would make me scream."
"I promise I could make you scream." Eddie burns. You feel his fingers on your chin, turning you to face him. Your eyes drift open and Eddie presses his forehead against yours as you work your fingers in and out of your soaked pussy.
"I think about your fingers a lot... your rings.. I pretend my hands are yours.." you whimper, feeling yourself on the edge but not quite there.
You don't want your fingers. You want his.
"Eddie."
"You gonna cum, sweetheart?"
"I want you.. I want you to make me cum.." you whine desperately, only seconds away from your orgasm.
"Yeah?" he pants breathlessly.
"Please." you beg. He wastes no time reaching into your shorts, you remove your fingers just in time for his to replace them. His slender fingers immediately reach exactly where you need them to, curling with precision, stroking across your g spot making you cum instantly.
"Yes! Oh fuck!" you cry, your muscles pulsing around his fingers, Eddie watches in awe as you fall apart beneath his hand.
"Holy fuck.” Eddie groans deeply, slowly working you through your orgasm.
You grab him, slamming your lips into his pulling a moan from him instantly. He leans in, his body pressing you down to the floor as you tangle your hands in his hair.
Fuck.
He tastes like weed and Camel Blues as his tongue greets yours hungrily. You both kiss sloppily, soaking up this moment. After all these years, both of you finally getting what you want.
Clothes are torn off. No more hesitation as you both paw at each other, kissing and biting, the eagerness apparent from both of you. Moans and the sound of messy kisses fill the room.
"Fuck me." you plead with him as your bodies grind together, skin on skin, so close together.
"We need a new pact." he pants breathlessly, lining himself up.
"Mhmm." you moan, feeling his tip start to stretch you out.
"The new pact is that You're mine." he moans as he thrusts himself in, entering you fully, a filthy cry raining from your lips.
"I'm yours." you whimper, your fingernails digging into his back as he begins to pump in and out of you.
"We have to seal it, sweetheart." he mumbles drunkenly, picking up his pace. His size is unlike anything you've had before, your legs already shaking slightly, a tinge of pain mixed with the beautiful pleasure.
"What do you- oh!" you gasp as his teeth sink into your bottom lip just hard enough to break the skin. You feel the trickle of warm liquid dribble down your chin.
"Shit." you breathe out before returning the favor, taking Eddie's plump lip between your teeth and tugging roughly making him growl as he slams his cock into you.
"Goddamn, baby.” he groans, kissing your lips, gliding his tongue inside. A metallic taste fills your mouth as your tongues swirl together wildly, your blood mixing together in your kiss.
"Call me baby again." you whimper, rolling your hips, grinding on his big cock. He feels so fucking good.
Eddie chuckles bringing his lips to your ear as he fucks you powerfully. His cock glides in and out of your slickness, the sounds loud in the quiet of the woods.
"You like being my baby?" he murmurs in your ear.
"Yes!”
"You feel so fucking good.. so fucking good." he praises, entering you deeply with every snap of his hips. Your head falls to the wooden floor as your back begins to arch.
"There we go, sweetheart." Eddie hums approvingly as your thighs begin to tremble.
He keeps himself buried deep, rolling into you, his thick cock filling you to the brim. He thrusts into you precisely, finding your sweet spot making your toes curl.
"Eddie! R-right there!" you whine, the pleasure of someone fucking you right for the first time was unlike anything you'd felt before. You didn't know sex could feel this good.
"Gonna take care of you, sweetheart.. I got you." Eddie reassures, keeping his pace, in and out, in and out.
His lips lock onto your neck sucking harshly. You grip the back of his head, holding him to you, the feeling of his lips sucking your skin felt delicious. His fingers meet your clit, quickly rubbing circles on the sensitive nub, making your eyes roll.
"Please don't stop... I think.. I think I'm gonna..”
"Cum for me, beautiful.” Eddie demands in your ear, sending you over the edge. You pull his hair roughly as your body jolts upward, your pussy clenching around him, spasm after spasm as you flood his cock.
"E-Eddie! Ohh my god.. f-fuck!" you practically scream, Eddie loving every second of you writhing beneath him. Watching as you make a mess of his cock. You can feel your cum coating your thighs as he continues to pound into you.
His hands tangle in your hair as his lips meet yours feverishly. Your entire body is overwhelmed as you cling to him, it's almost too much but you don't want it to end. He lifts your leg onto his shoulder, the new angle making you gasp.
"You're so fucking hot." Eddie moans, the sounds coming from him are everything you imagined they'd be. Even better.
"We're gonna cum together." Eddie orders as he leans down, taking your leg with him, his hard cock somehow reaching deeper.
"Together.” you whimper, feeling him stretch you out again and again. He speeds up, slamming into you wildly, your legs shake as you grasp for him, wanting him to be as close as possible. He leans down even more, you feel the strain of your leg muscles as he bends you in ways unknown to you before.
He sinks his teeth into your neck making your eyes roll to the back of your head as your nails claw at his back, sending red streaks across his tattoos.
"Gonna cum…. wanna cum inside you.." he mumbles, his hips moving at an insane pace.
"Cum inside me, baby." you moan, completely losing all sense of anything but him as he fucks you senseless. A few more hard thrusts and you feel his cock twitch, his warm cum spilling into you as he moans your name.
"Fucking Christ." he laughs breathlessly as he collapses on top of you. Both of you lay there silently, your chests rising and falling rapidly as you come down from your high. You run your fingers through his curls as he rests his head on your chest.
After a few minutes you hear the crunching of leaves below you causing you both to sit up suddenly.
"Edward!" Wayne's voice calls from below.
"Shit."
"Come down here and eat your damn dinner.. 20 years old and still playing in a damn treehouse." Wayne mumbles as you hear his footsteps heading back through the woods.
You both look at each other and burst out laughing.
"Dinner, m'lady?" Eddie smirks, rounding up your clothes.
"Dinner sounds perfect.” you smile at him, feeling happier than you’ve ever felt.
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spilledcoffeeonthefloor · 2 months ago
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Fans making a youtube video with the title:
"Neil josten when Andrew"
and it's like:
*reporter: Neil Josten! people say Andrew m-
Neil: nope, imma stop u right there. you bring Andrew up again and we're having a big problem here. I'm tired of your never ending self made drama about my teammates.
*reporter, Again: Neil Josten! there has been rumors about your current goalie Andr-
Neil: there has been rumors about your mother as well, actually! people say his son doesn't have a better job to do than making a shit amount of money out of people's private life.
*camera on Neil staring at Andrew in a middle of a warm up before a match.
*camera on Kevin talking to Neil, Neil literally zoning out, then turning his head around and looking for something. kevin sighs, then points toward Andrew in the corner. Neil's face lighting up
*camera on Neil looking at Andrew in the goal when he's standing out for the game and doing a "Andrew smile" soft and proud and literally heart eyes.
*camera on Neil punching a stricker for shoving Aaron.
*camera on Neil turning toward Andrew everytime he scores.
*more Neil staring at Andrew
*another stricker yells something at Andrew mid game,
Neil punching the guy in the guts, twice, walking toward the referrer, snatching a red card before the referrer could even offer it, and punching the stricker dude twice more
*reporter: Neil josten, your goalie Minyard did an excellent performance at this game, do-
Neil: OH MY GOD, RIGHT????? like, wow that was amazing. he is amazing. I've been obsessed with exy since i was a kid, and I've seen really, really great things in exy, but this? that defense? that was the greatest thing I've ever seen. he didn't let a single goal in. like-*endless yapping*
*reporter: Neil josten, how's playing with Minyard?
Neil: good, he keeps me on my knees.
Neil:....
Neil: TOES. HE KEEPS ME ON MY TOES.
*Camera on Neil laughing so hard at something Andrew said with complete deadpan
*a tweet that says "i wish Andrew Minyard would bench press me" and has a "liked by Neil josten" above it.
*Camera on Neil threatening a nurse at the hospital to let her see Andrew, who was hurt mid game.
then again, camera on Neil shouting "ok then I'm buying the fucking hospital"
*Camera on Wymack trying to prevent Neil from buying the hospital
*reporter: Neil josten you look fabulous tonight! can you tell us what brand you're wearing?
Neil: i have not a single idea, Andrew picked it up
reporter: you just wear whatever he picks up for you..?
Neil: yuP.
*Foxes on tv in a quiz show, camera on Neil taking Andrew's coffee mug, taking a sip, put two sugar cubes in it, blowing it a bit to cool down then handing it to Andrew and turning to the host: excuse me what were you saying?
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tpwk-formula1 · 1 month ago
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Kinktober Day 1 - Hickeys - LN4
It is day one of my first Kinktober! I have been wanting to do one for years on different accounts and in different fandoms but I have finally started earlier enough to actually pump out an imagine a day!
All posts will be made at 12 PST according to the day
Lando Norris X Reader
TW - Hickeys, use of word whore, jealous sex, shower sex, unprotected sex, creampie
WC - 1400+
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Y/N POV
"We're leaving," Lando said while pulling me away from the conversation I was currently having with Max.
"Lando! Stop, I'm trying to have a conversation, stop being rude," I said while pulling my arm out of his grip and trying to make my way back to Max.
"You've had enough conversation with him to last a lifetime! I've watched you giggling with Verstappen for the past 10 minutes. He cannot be that fucking funny! We are leaving now," Lando said while taking ahold of my hand and pulling me towards the exit.
Once we got outside and the loud blare of the noisy club behind us I can finally talk to Lando without having to shout.
"Lando, what the actual fuck was that?" I questioned him while we were waiting for our car to arrive from Vallet.
"I have barely seen you tonight and when I finally located you, you're practically on top of Max!" Lando replies back clearly mad about the situation.
"Lando Norris... Are you fucking kidding me right now? You're jealous of Max!" I reply back trying to hold my laugh back. Lando and I had been together since his rookie season so watching him get jealous over someone I had never once shown an interest in was quite funny.
"I'm not jealous of him, Y/N. But you don't need to all over him in a public setting like that!" Lando replies back before grabbing the keys from the young man who just returned the Porsche to the front of the club.
Once we got into the car it was fairly silent other than the noise of our breathing.
"You're ridiculous" I break the silence making Lando scuff.
"You're the ridiculous one! I don't understand how you aren't seeing the problem! You're over there flirting with my closest rival on the grid while you're in a very public relationship! You know how the media can be," Lando replies back. I just roll my eyes at how ridiculous his behavior has gotten.
"Lando you know damn well I would never even LOOK at Max like that! I have never once been interested in him, and I NEVER will be! You have never once had a problem with me being friends with the grid, do not start acting like this now because you are in a championship battle with him," I tell him while we pull into the garage of his Monaco appartment.
When I get out of the car I slam the door and make my way to the elevator trying to avoid Lando as much as possible.
The ride up to Lando's apartment was silent and awkward, both of us reflecting on the actions of the night.
When we finally get into the apartment I make my way into the bathroom before stripping down and getting in the shower knowing I need to clear my head before Lando and I can have a mature conversation.
I'm not even halfway through my shower before I hear the bathroom door open making me turn around and find Lando coming in shirtless and starting to unbutton his pants. Once he is stripped down he climbs into the shower with me.
I roll my eyes at him before turning my back towards him.
This was Lando's final straw because the next thing I know I am pushed up against the shower wall with Lando's chest pushed against my back.
"Drop the fucking attitude! I wasn't the one whoring myself out," Lando seethes out into my ear. When I don't respond to him he starts kissing behind my ear and down my neck.
Once he finds my sweet spot it leaves me gasping in shock before I feel his teeth sink into my neck and start sucking.
"Lando," I moan out. Once Lando pulls away from me I turn my head slightly to watch him observe the mark that is inevitably starting to darken on the side of my neck.
Without words, Lando takes my hips into his hands before aggressively spinning me around so we are face-to-face.
When I look into Lando's eyes I can see the lust swimming through them.
I grip onto Lando's neck pulling him down for an aggressive make-out session. It's not long before Lando is pulling back and trailing kisses down my jaw and neck again.
The feeling of Lando's teeth sinking into my warm skin has my knees growing weaker. Once Lando makes it to my tits I feel myself give out to the pleasure and if Lando wasn't holding me up I definitely would have been on my knees from the pleasure.
"Fuck," I gasp out when Lando takes my nipple between his teeth and biting down softly.
When I glance down at Lando all I see is his wet curls and little purple marks trailing down from my neck to my tits. I can't remember the last time Lando had given me a hickey let alone a whole collection of them.
"Lan please," I whine out trying to push him lower.
I get no response from Lando but he does start making his way lower down my body. All I feel is Lando continuing his trail of hickeys down my stomach leading his way to my soaked pussy.
When he finally reaches the spot I wanted him most instead of diving right in like he normally does he starts leaving hickeys all over my thighs. He has one of my legs in his hand giving him the perfect space to continue to tease me.
With the death I have on his hair I try to pull him close to my dripping core but instead, he makes his way to my other thigh but not before leaving a long lick from my dripping hole to my throbbing clit. This has me gasping for air thinking I was finally going to get what I wanted but Lando had other plans.
"Please, Lan," I whine out not knowing how much more of this teasing I can handle.
"Patience," All Lando says before starting his trail of hickeys again.
It feels like forever before I can feel Lando slowing making his way back to my soaking pussy. When he finally gets to the spot I needed him the most I let out a loud shrink when I feel Lando's teeth sinking down softly on my throbbing clit, before releasing it with his teeth and starting to suck on it.
"Fuck Lando," I moan out knowing I won't be lasting long if he continues this assault on my overly sensitive clit.
"I'm close," I moan out. This had Lando pulling away making me whine out from the loss of contact.
Lando doesn't say anything before he flips me back around so my chest is pressed against the shower wall.
It doesn't take long before I can feel Lando teasing my entrance with his hard tip. When he finally pushed in I let out a loud moan not knowing how to handle the overwhelming pleasure of being so full.
Lando starts thrusting in and out at a quick and rough pace. It doesn't take me long before I can feel my orgasm building again.
"Fucking, cum," Lando aggressively moans out making me explode all over Lando's cock.
"Fuck," I moan out feeling the early signs of overstimulation start to take course.
"Lan, fuck, please," I moan out not really knowing what I want.
"You're going to cum again," Lando grunts out making up my mind for me. I can already feel my second orgasm start to build when Lando reached around and started rubbing my clit which threw me over the edge again. This orgasm was stronger than the first leaving me shaking all over Lando's cock.
"I'm gonna cum in you," Lando whispers in my ear before I felt him slow his pace down but continue with the strong thrusts. When he finally spills into my still throbbing pussy I can feel how much cum he is pumping deep into me.
"Fuck," Lando groans out before slowly slipping out and allowing some of the cum to drip out of my pussy.
When we finally came down from our strong orgasms we finish our shower together before getting out. Lando gets out first and wraps his towel around his waist before grabbing the second towel and wrapping it around my body before helping me out.
When I finally get a good look in the mirror I can see just how much damage Lando had done to my skin. Just from my neck to chest I can see at least 8 hickeys ranging from small light purple marks to bigger deeper purple marks.
When I make eye contact with Lando in the mirror I see the smug look he is giving me.
"Well now he knows you're mine," Lando says with a small shrug before walking out of the bathroom, leaving me shaking my head at his petty jealousy.
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monstacheol · 24 days ago
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𝔄 𝔊𝔦𝔣𝔱 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔞 𝔊𝔬𝔡
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ϟ 𝕻𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: God! Choi Seungcheol x Mortal afab! Reader
ϟ 𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: Your marriage wasn't the one to be envied. Marry to one of the ruthless kings due to an arrangement from your father. Being nothing more than a pawn. And you despise it all.
On the night of drinking and celebrating, you decided to turn in for the night. As you walk into your shared bedroom, you are greeted by a God, but not just any other God. The God of Sky and Thunder. King of Gods himself. Who came with a gift.
ϟ 𝖂𝕮: 8.9K
ϟ 𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌: Dom Zeus! Seungcheol, Sub Lady! Mortal Reader, dirty talking, breeding kink, oral (f. & m receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms and multiple positions, small amount or maybe more manhandling, a bit of praise kink or more, unprotected sex (stay safe kids), crying from pleasure, size kink, choking, your "husband" talking badly about the gods, Pet name: (y/n): darling. (I feel like I miss something but if I am. Let me know)
ϟ 𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙:: @gyuguys @ateez-atiny380 @cumiily @unlikelysublimekryptonite @okiedokrie-main @kyeomiis @black-swan-blog27 @acolytees @parkweylyn @odevote118 @cherricherryy @hamji-hae @missychief1404
ϟ 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘: This was kinda of inspired by a post I made and I thought about it and went "Yeah. Let's go for it." I did say that if my last work was good I would write the next prompt. And we're almost or at 800 notes on the last one, so here we are.
As I was writing this, I was a little nervous and kept telling myself that this isn't good and...Maybe it's not but as always, I want to improve myself. So I hope this is good as I tried my best. Not only that, I start school this month so I wanted to leave something before I take a small hiatus. I know, crazy. I literally just started but I need to focus so please enjoy this work I leave to you. Thank you for giving love to the teaser.
Please like, comment, and reblog for support and improvement, and as always. Let's go.
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The room was filled with music, cheers, laughter from soldiers and giggles from women, and the smell of hearty food. It was another night in the throne room, where soldiers get drunk off their asses and celebrate while you sit back and watch them. It was disgusting to look at. Seeing how they drink without care. How they act like fools. Stuffing their faces like animals. Their boisterous behavior. It was revolting. The stench of alcohol and sweat filled the air, leaving you feeling sick to your stomach. You did not understand why men behaved this way; it was repulsive.
You heard the sound of "Ahhh" from behind you.
You turn to see the man who was your husband drinking his drink down his throat in one gulp. As he finishes, he raises his cup, shouting a loud cry that makes the soldiers cheer and raise their cups in response.
'Men.'
You shake your head in belief. "Another. Bring out more wine. Tonight, we celebrate our victory!" he declares, his voice booming with excitement. The soldiers erupt in cheers and laughter, the sound echoing through the evening as you roll your eyes at the soldiers' vibrancy. Your husband notices your exasperated expression and he smiles knowingly at you.
"Now, my wife," your husband says, pulling you close to his lap. His hand grips your chiffon dress. Your face twists with disgust as he attempts to kiss you. The taste of alcohol is heavy on his breath. You push him away gently, avoiding his advances. "Don't be so uptight, my love," he slurred, his words vaguely slurred. He grabs the bottle and pours more wine into the cup. "Drink up and join the revelry," your husband said, handing you a cup of wine.
You gently push the drink away and shake your head, declining his offer. "I'd rather not," you respond, annoyed and disappointed by his persistence. "Come now," your husband said before consuming the alcohol in his cup. "Loosen up a bit; enjoy the party," he urged, his voice growing firm. But you stand your ground, refusing to give in to his pressure and maintaining your boundaries.
"No thanks. I refuse to join in such revelry," you declare, firmly holding onto your decision. He sighs in frustration, clearly frustrated with your refusal.
Your "husband" wasn't the ideal man you pictured spending eternity with. The man you loved was kind. A man who said he would do anything for you. A man who said he would move the mountains from Olympus for you if he could.
He was the one man you ever cared for, but fate snatched him away from you as he died in battle, leaving you heartbroken and alone. You prayed for the gods to bring him back, saying you would do anything. But they didn't hear your prayers in the end. For weeks, you felt devastated and hopeless, grieving the death of your true love. A few days later, you were married to another man by arrangement. By a man who was ruthless, greedy, and only saw you as some pretty little trophy to show off to his peers. And that man happened to be your now husband. He appears one day in your land and promises your father victory in the war if he takes you as his wife. Your father approved no less, and my land was victorious, and now you are trapped here.
You did not care for him, your husband. You despised him with every fiber of your being. But you had no choice but to obey and fulfill your duties as his wife despite your husband 's constant disloyalty when he's away for war. You had to learn to accept your current reality and move on. You still thank the gods for giving you strength and tenacity despite having to put up with a man like him and his behavior. As you were lost in your thoughts, you were interrupted by the cheers and conversation of the troops.
"Did you see how we conquered our enemy?"
"They didn't know what hit them."
"Especially how our king slain their leader in a single combat?
"This victory belongs to the gods."
As you listened to the soldiers celebrate, you heard a sudden "HA" from your husband. The soldier stopped conversing as you turned to see your husband set his cup down.
"You thank the pitiful gods. And why should we thank them for our victory? No. Our victory belongs to us. Not those fickle gods who only watch from above. Our strength and determination enabled us to fight and conquer. Our bravery and perseverance ultimately led us to glory on the battlefield. The gods may have observed, but our actions secured victory," your husband said confidently.
You look at him in disbelief. How can he say that? How can he talk so boldly about them like that? You felt discomfort at his blasphemous words.
"You should not say that about the gods."
Your husband glanced at you at your words. "Oh, really," your husband spoke.
Gulping down his wine before continuing, "Share your thoughts, dear. Why should we thank those pathetic gods?" he asked, his tone challenging.
"They have given us everything to help us, and we must express gratitude for their blessings. If it weren't for them, you would not have won. We must honor them and acknowledge them. We should not anger them with our arrogance," you replied firmly.
Your husband's eyes narrowed. A flicker of annoyance crossed his face. "We continue to show our gratitude and respect for the gods, for they have guided us through many challenges and obstacles."
Your husband scoffed at your response, clearly not understanding the gravity of the situation. "Gratitude. Respect. Those are just words. Tell me, wife: Did Ares lead us to battle? No. Did Athena bless us with wisdom and strategy? No. Did the mighty Zeus himself strike down our enemies? No," he said, gulping down another cup of wine.
"It was I who led us to the battle. It was I who strategized and inspired my troops. It was us who struck down our enemies and emerged victorious." Your husband growled as his men cheered, agreeing unanimously with him.
"You see, our success is the result of our diligent work and perseverance, not some divine intervention," he declared proudly. "We are the masters of our own destiny, not at the mercy of the whims of the gods," he continued, instilling confidence in his men with his powerful words.
You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Your husband talks down to the gods. You were raised to respect and honor the gods. To thank them for everything they did. For the food they provided, for the safe travel home, for wisdom, for health. Everything. Now here he is, talking down to them. And you knew nothing would materialize if you spoke down to them. You felt disappointed at his lack of reverence for the divine forces that also played a part in their triumph. You couldn't understand how he could be so disrespectful to them, and you weren't going to stay there any longer and watch them celebrate.
You stood up from your husband's lap, and your husband looked at you in confusion. "Where are you going?" he asked.
"I'm going to bed."
Your husband looked puzzled and grabbed your wrist, holding you in place as you tried to pull away. "What? Just because I insulted the gods, you're really going to leave. Don't you think that's too much, dear?" he replied with a hint of frustration.
"No, my husband."
You snatched your wrist away from his grip. "What's too much is that you think I can stay with someone who insulted the gods after they granted us such favors and blessings? I cannot condone such disrespect, even from you." You turned and walked away, leaving your husband to ponder his actions.
You exit the throne room, strolling down the hall to your bedroom, feeling anger and disappointment. How can he not understand? How can a man be so selfish and ignorant? You shake your head in disbelief. As you strolled along, you saw your maid, Sumni, carrying merely a food tray. She looks up to see you and gasps slightly.
"My lady Y/N," your maid Sumni notices you.
Sumni was one of the people you genuinely enjoyed in this kingdom. She was a great listener, very attentive, and very kind. "Is everything okay?" she asks, concern evident in her voice. You pause, debating whether to confront her about your husband's behavior. But you nod your head and reply, "Yes, Sumni. I am fine. Just a bit tired, that's all."
Sumni nodded understandingly. "Would you like me to accompany you to bed?" she asked kindly. You shook your head and declined her offer, thanking her for her concern. Sumni smiled warmly at you before dismissing herself, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You continue your journey to the bedroom. As soon as you arrive at your bedroom door, you push the door open, step inside, and slightly close it. You sigh as your head presses against the frame, exhausted from the day's events.
"Long night!"
You heard a voice behind you. You turned around to see a mysterious man lying on his side across from your bed, a mischievous grin on his face. You felt a jolt of surprise at the man's unexpected presence in your bedroom. "Who are you?" you asked cautiously, your heart racing uncertainly. The man chuckled softly and replied, "I'm just someone who couldn't resist meeting you."
You glanced at the man's appearance. He had a white toga draped over his shoulder and a gold cuff wrapped around one of his biceps, which was exposed. His pec was exposed, while the other was concealed under the toga. His toga was short so that you could see his muscular legs. His eyes were pierced brown, and his smile was charming. His hair was black and wet, and he was breath-taking. The more you look at him, the more you find yourself drawn to his mysterious aura. You were so lost in thought that you heard him laugh.
"What's the matter, darling? Lost in thought?" he asks with a playful smirk.
You shook your head, cleared all your thoughts, and got to the question.
"W-What are you doing here? You are trespassing, and I would appreciate it if you left immediately," you stammer, feeling a mix of fear and fascination at the mysterious stranger in your room. The man chuckles, his grin widening as he replies.
"Oh, nothing. Just enjoying the celebration of your king's victory. As if your husband needed it," the man said.
A small scoff escaped his lips. "That your husband of yours," he continued.
"That man thinks we are not the reason behind his success. He's so power-hungry and incompliant that he can't even get on his knees and thank us after what we've done to make him victorious. I must say I don't think they'll be so happy to hear about that. It's a shame. Really. How ungrateful people can be," the man said with a hint of disappointment.
You listen as this man talks badly about your husband like he knows him. Before you could speak, he continued.
"But you, Lady Y/N."
You froze as the mysterious man said your name.
"You're such a loyal worshipper. You thank the gods for every endeavor and never falter in your devotion. A woman like you should be rewarded," the man expressed.
The way the man in front of you looks at you. It was like he was undressing you with his eyes. His gaze was intense and unwavering. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you tried to maintain your composure.
"W-Who are you?" you said, asking again.
The man smirked at my question.
"I am known by many names. Zojz. Tinia. Jupiter. Zeus. But," the man said as he slowly rose from your bed, full of confidence, "you can call me Seungcheol."
Your eyes widen in shock as you realize the man's true identity. "M-My... God," you stammer, feeling two emotions at once: fear and awe wash over you. You instantly fall to the floor, bowing. "Please forgive me for any disrespect I may have shown," you say, bowing your head in reverence.
Seungcheol chuckled softly, his grin widening at your reaction. A loyal follower, he thought to himself. He slowly approached you as you kowtowed before him, his presence towering over you. "Rise," he commanded gently, offering a hand to help you stand. As you looked up at him, you couldn't help but feel an admiration and reverence for the god standing before you.
"There will be no formalities," he said. As you take his hand and stand up, Seungcheol's eyes twinkle with amusement. He was taller than you expected, and his presence exuded a sense of power and authority that made you feel equally intimidated and intrigued.
"My god."
You were speechless. You didn't know what to say, and the words hadn't even begun to form. Seungcheol noticed your awe and chuckled softly.
"You seem lost in words right now, darling," Seungcheol said. His deep voice resonated through you, sending shivers down your spine. It was as if he could read your thoughts and emotions with just a glance.
"I- It's just that I didn't expect such a sudden visit," you stammered, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
"Would you like me to leave?" he asked. You shake your head quickly. "N-No. Please stay. I didn't mean—"
"Don't worry, darling," Seungcheol interrupted with a reassuring smile. "Just teasing you a bit."
His smile was gentle and warm, putting you at ease. He then stepped away from you and trailed around the room. Taking in everything about his surroundings, even looking at the unfinished tapestry mounted on the wall. With a persistent and powerful head, he strolled around.
"Besides, I didn't want to leave without giving you a gift," Seungcheol stated.
A gift... for you...
"W-What kind of gift?" is all you can manage to stammer out of. "A special one," he answered.
"How special is the gift?" you asked, curious. Seungcheol finally stopped walking and turned back to you with a mysterious glint in his eyes, making your heart race with anticipation.
"What if I told you that your gift, your special little gift, was something that I wanted to show you? To thank you for showing such admiration for me." Seungcheol responded with a mischievous smile. Your mind raced with possibilities as you waited for him to reveal the surprise he had in store for you.
"What if I said your gift was me? Would you believe me?" Seungcheol's eyes sparkled with anticipation as he waited for your response.
"Y-you, my god," you stammered out, feeling a rush of emotions at his unexpected revelation. Seungcheol nodded, a small smile playing on his lips.
"You have been such a loyal follower. Why not reward you for your dedication? Besides, I think you deserve it," he declared as his eyes never left yours.
Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Him. Your god. Offering himself. To you. As a gift. It left you speechless and overwhelmed with emotions. You couldn't. You didn't know what to say. Minutes ago, you were in the throne room with your husband and his soldiers, and now you're here with Seungcheol, your god, offering himself to you as a reward for your loyalty. The weight of his offer combined with the intensity of his gaze left you breathless and unsure of how to respond.
"My god."
"Seungcheol," he interrupted, his smile widening.
"Seungcheol. I-I couldn't conceivably accept such an offer," you stammered, turning around.
This was so much to process right now. You. You simply couldn't accept it, even though it was tempting. Even if you were completely captivated by him. You couldn't accept it. You just couldn't. The internal struggles were overwhelming as you were torn between your desire and your duty. The conflict within you was palpable, but you knew you had to answer.
You were so lost in your thoughts. You didn't even hear him coming behind you as you turned around and found him standing right before you. Frightened, you took a step back, and your back hit the wall behind you as he trapped you with his arms on either side of your head as he towered over you. Your breath quickened as you met his intense gaze.
"Why not?" Seungcheol softly asked.
His hand moved down to cup your cheek; his touch sent a shiver down your spine.
"Don't you want it? I mean, you've been such a good girl. Don't you want to be rewarded? For being such," Seungcheol said as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
"Loyal."
Another is placed on the bridge of the nose.
"Good."
Then your cheek. Then he trails down your neck, and your breath is caught in your throat as he pauses right there, teasing you with his lips hovering just above your collarbone.
"Girl."
It's then that he presses his lips against your collarbone, sending a wave of desire through your body. Suddenly, he trailed kisses up your neck, each setting off a fire within you. The sensation of his lips on your skin was electrifying, and every kiss he placed made your body ache, leaving a trail of heat in its wake and your pussy clenching around nothing. As he made his way up, he pulled away slightly, his lips ghosting over your ear, and whispered, "So... will you accept this gift of mine? This gift from a god?" His voice was low and seductive.
Both of you stared at each other. His gaze was intense, making your heart race. It was then that you stopped fighting. You stopped fighting the pull of attraction between you two and gave in to the overwhelming desire as you nodded slowly. "Ah. Ah. I need words, darling," he murmurs, his voice low and seductive.
Your breath comes short as you gather the courage to respond. "Yes," you utter, your voice barely above a whisper.
Seungcheol's smile widens, revealing a hint of satisfaction before his eyes glance down at your lips. Your heart pounded as he leaned in close. Is this happening right now? Is this really happening? You close your eyes anticipating a kiss, but he stops just inches from your lips. And he made a small 'hmm' sound. A slight flutter of your eyes opens your eyes to see that mischievous smile playing on his lips. Pulling away, he walked away as you stood there watching him as your heart raced. He walked toward the bed as he sat down, his legs spread. He slowly reached his hand out. "Come here," he commanded.
There is a slight gulp in your throat. Nervous. You slowly walked toward him. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest with every step you took. As soon as you reached him, you nervously touched his outstretched palm. He smiled softly before tugging you onto his lap, inducing a gasp from you softly. His grip was tight and possessive. Your heart pounded faster than it had before, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body as he pulled you closer. The tension in the room was palpable. Anticipation hangs heavy in the air. "Now," he suddenly spoke.
Seungcheol's eyes bore into yours, innocent as ever. "Give your god a kiss," he commanded, his voice low and commanding.
You hesitated for a moment. You bite your lips as you look at his plump lips, nervous. Your palms were even sweating. Slowly you lean in to give him what he wants, but then he softly leans back, avoiding you. You tried again, and he avoided you again, backing away. Every time you tried to approach him, Seungcheol avoided you repeatedly, just to purposely tease you.
You pull back, whining and pouting at his playful taunts, and he chuckles at your reaction as he enjoys the power he has over you. Suddenly Seungcheol's hand flew to the back of your neck, pulling in and smashing his lips against yours. Leaving you clinging to his shoulder, bracing yourself. The kiss was demanding and intense, making your head spin with desire. As if he were trying to consume you whole.
Your hands gripped his shoulders, bracing yourself for the overwhelming sensation of his kiss, releasing a soft moan of pleasure. Your heart raced as you surrendered to his dominance. His tongue expertly explored your mouth, creating an electric spark within you.
He pulled away from the kiss, leaving you gasping for breath. You could still feel the lingering heat of his touch on your lips and the surge of heat between your legs, which left you yearning for more. Seungcheol looks at you with dark eyes as a smirk plays on his lips. He saw your expression. That expression that is full of bliss and desire. Seeing you like this in this moment makes his cock twitch with anticipation.
"Beautiful," he murmurs huskily.
He leans in again, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, his hands wandering over your body with possessive intent. Your breath hitched as you eagerly responded to his touch, completely under his spell. Then he flipped position as he was on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he deepened the kiss. You melted into his embrace. With each kiss and each caress, you descended deeper into the abyss of desire he had engendered. He pulls away slightly to trail kisses down your jaw and neck. His lips leave a trail of fire in their wake. You let out a soft moan, craving more of his touch. His teeth graze lightly on your skin as he leans in and bites down on your neck as your back arches in pleasure, pulling him in closer.
His lips turned into a slight smirk on your neck as he knew he had got you where he wanted you. Now Seungcheol has been watching you. Hearing you. He hears many prayers now and then coming from the temple, but yours. Your prayer was the one he anticipated the most. Oh, how you praise them. How you thank the gods. How you take what they give and never waste a single blessing, especially when his name falls on your lips. The way it falls off your tongue sounds like sweet music to his ears. He cannot deny that your devotion intrigues him. You intrigue him.
So he had to meet you. He had to see the person behind the prayers and accolades, but he had to be patient; his patience could only wear so thin as he continued to watch you from the sky above. But now that he has got you like this, under his spell. Grasping, panting, and moaning in pleasure underneath him like this. Seungcheol was completely ecstatic right now.
He licks over the bite mark he places on your neck, savoring the taste of your flesh before moving back to your lips to capture your lips in another kiss. Hands roam over your chiffon dress, feeling every curve and dip in your body beneath the fabric. He pulled away slightly, his lips ghosting over yours.
"Let's take this off."
With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Seungcheol slowly pulls the hems of your dress upward, exposing more and more of your skin as he goes as he looks with hungry eyes. As the dress finally slipped over your head, his gaze darkened with desire as he saw you lying there before him. My, did you look breathtaking? From your tousled hair to your gorgeous face to how your skin glowed in the dim light to your gorgeous curves. It was like the goddess, Aphrodite herself, had craved you into existence just for him. He couldn't take his eyes off you.
"S-Seungcheol," you stammered, feeling a rush of heat flood your cheeks as his intense gaze lingered on you. The growl that he held back when you spoke his name.
You couldn't help but feel nervous about how intensely he was staring at you. You tried to cover yourself, but his hand shot out to stop you, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Why are you covering yourself?" he asked softly.
"I-I."
"Why are you covering such a beautiful sight like this?" he whispered, his voice filled with admiration. Seungcheol pinned your hands above your head as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Don't you dare hide from me," he warned, his eyes dark with desire.
You softly gasp at his words at his command. His eyes look at you up and down. "Or," he started.
"Or," you repeat in a shaky voice.
"Or... are you just shy, Y/N?" he taunted.
You didn't say anything, but your red cheeks said it all. A chuckle escaped his lips. "My, what a shy darling I appear to have tonight," he murmured, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. "But don't worry, I'll make sure you're not shy for long."
His free hand trailed to your breast and caressed it gently. Your skin felt so soft under his touch, and you couldn't help but exhale. He smirked at your sudden reaction. Then his hand trailed down to your underwear, feeling the wet patch forming there.
"You're so wet. Did all of that kissing get you excited?" he teased.
You struggled to answer as he rubbed his thumb over the damp fabric, causing you to whine and leak out more slick. You squirm under his touch. "Answer me, darling. Tell me, did it?" Your mouth opens, letting out a breathless "yes" before he leans in and presses his lips against yours, deepening the kiss, swallowing your moan as his fingers continue to tease you. Without breaking the kiss, he slowly slides your underwear off, exposing your most intimate parts.
Seungcheol moves off your body to kneel at the foot of the bed. Seungcheol grabs your legs, pulling you over the edge of the bed, causing you to yelp. He spread your legs apart, revealing your wet core, his gaze smoldering with hunger. He spread your folds with his fingers, eliciting a soft moan from your lips. The way your arousal glistened in the dim light made his desire grow even more intense. You look down at him, your chest rising and descending in anticipation. "Please," you whispered, your voice barely audible in the heated moment.
Oh, the way you plead for him. The way you beg him to devour you. So he did. Without hesitation, he dove in, devouring you with passion. You gasp, eyes fluttering shut as your hand tugs at his hair. The tug caused him to groan into your cunt, adding vibration. The way your arousal tasted on his tongue. It was intoxicating. It was so good. It was so delicious. It was so... addictive. With a delighted sneer on his lips, he withdrew for a while before whispering, "Fuuck. You taste divine," and then he dove back in.
The sensation of his tongue and lips on your sensitive areas sends shivers down your spine, making you arch your back in pleasure. The way he ate you out. It was different. It was something you had never experienced before. He ate you like a man who had been deprived of a feast for far too long, savoring every moment of it. And he didn't want to stop until you were completely spent and trembling beneath him.
"I just can't get enough of you. You taste so good. So sweet," he murmurs before diving back in as he continues to lap and slurp at your dripping wet core, determined to make you lose control completely. You arch your back in pleasure and moan his name, feeling the intensity build with each flick of his tongue.
His tongue moved to your entrance and inserted his tongue inside as his nose nuzzled against your clit. "Seungcheol," you moan breathlessly, feeling the pleasure intensify with each movement of his skilled tongue.
"Feel good?" Seungcheol whispers huskily, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "Yes. So good," you whisper back, completely lost in the sensations he's giving you. Your answer pleased him. His tongue expertly flicked and probed, sending shivers down your spine as you moaned in pleasure.
He went back to your sensitive nub and sucked on it gently, making you gasp and squirm with pleasure. His tongue expertly flicked and probed, sending shivers down your spine as you moaned in pleasure. You begin to feel a wave of pleasure building up deep within you, ready to crash over you. "Seungcheol. Please. "No," you begged as you shut your eyes, completely overwhelmed by the sensation.
"Look at me. Look at me," he commanded, his voice low and husky. You locked eyes with him, feeling the intensity of his gaze as he continued to titillate you with his mouth.
"Look at me as you cum all over my face," he growled, the sound sending a jolt of desire through you.
With his eyes never leaving yours, he increases the pressure and speed of his movements, bringing you closer and closer to the brink until eventually, you explode in a mind-blowing orgasm that leaves you breathless and completely satisfied. You lay there panting, out of breath. He gave one final lick, letting a whine out of you before pulling away, a satisfied grin on his lips. He wipes the last of your essence with his thumb before licking it off, enjoying the taste of your release, watching you rest in the afterglow of your orgasm.
It took you some time to gather yourself as you lay on the bed, deeply absorbed in thought. You feel trails of kisses coursing up your body, causing shivers to run down your spine as you bask in your post-orgasmic bliss. Seungcheol pulls away from your body to undress himself. Finally removing the toga from his body, revealing his naked form.
"Shouldn't I get a reward as well?" Seungcheol grinned.
You sat up slowly as you looked at his naked form. His body was a work of art, every muscle defined and his skin glowing in the soft light of the room. Your eyes travel down to see his cock standing at attention. His cock was long and thick. The tip was red and glistening with pre-cum, a clear indication of his arousal. It made your mouth water. You could already feel yourself getting wet just looking at it.
"What's the matter, darling? Never seen a cock like mine before?" He teased, his voice husky with desire.
"It's so big. I don't think it will fit," you whispered.
"Don't worry," Seungcheol said before reaching his hand out and stroking your cheek. "It'll fit," he assured. With that, he kisses your cheek before pulling you up to stand. He sits down on the bed, his legs spread. Cock, hard and ready. "On your knees," he commanded, his tone firm yet gentle. You complied and got down on your knees. You can hear him mutter 'Good girl' under his breath.
The moment you were right there between his legs, you were a vision. His hand lightly cups your chin and tilts your head up towards him, gently stroking your cheek.
"Open," he commends. You obey and open your mouth as he inserts two fingers inside your mouth, stroking the pink muscle with meticulous care, causing you to moan softly.
He slowly thrust his fingers in and out, watching your reaction closely. He could hear you gag slightly as he pushed further, testing your limits. Your eyes watered slightly, but you maintained eye contact with him, eager to please. With a smirk, he removed his fingers, giving you time to catch your breath. Seungcheol leaned back on the bed as you collected your breath, holding himself up by his muscular arms as his gaze never left yours. "Now please your god," he commanded.
You nod your head in recognition. With nervous hands, you grab his cock as you look up at him, a mixture of elation and nerves. You close your eyes and place his cock on your tongue, savoring the salty taste of his pre-cum.
"That's it. Good girl," he whispered, his words low and encouraging.
You swirl your tongue around the tip, making him bite his lips in pleasure. The moment your mouth wraps around the tip, Seungcheol groans and rolls his eyes back, tilting his head back in pleasure as he lets out a deep, guttural moan. The sensation of your warm mouth enveloping him sends waves of ecstasy through his body, making him tremble with desire.
"Fuck, darling. Your mouth feels wonderful." He reaches down to tangle his fingers in your hair, guiding you as you slowly bob your head.
He lets out a low growl of pleasure as you please him. His half-lidded eyes gaze at you with a mixture of desire and adoration, his breath coming out in short, ragged gasps. God, did you look pretty with your mouth around his cock? He couldn't take his eyes away. You look so perfect. The feeling of your tongue swirling around him. The warmth of your mouth accompanied by the wetness of your lips. The feeling of your soft moan around him and the sight of your wide innocent eyes staring up at him only intensified his arousal. He couldn't resist the urge to thrust his hips, wanting to feel more of you while constantly praising you. "You're so fucking good at this," he groaned.
"Look at you. Being such a good girl, treating your god with such reverence. You like pleasing your god?" Seungcheol asked with a smirk, his voice filled with satisfaction. You nodded eagerly, your eyes filled with desire and devotion as you served him with your mouth. "Such a good girl. Such pretty lips wrapped around me," he murmured as he guided your movements. You moan in response as he increases the pace, his words fueling your arousal even more.
His hand took you deeper until his cock hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag. He uttered a low growl of pleasure. "That's it; take it all. You were made to worship me," he whispered, his hips thrusting with increased urgency and need as he reveled in your worship. Your hand lands on his thighs as you dig your nails into his skin. Drool coming from the corners of your mouth, and tears stream down your cheeks as you try to keep up with his fast pace.
His abdomen tightened as he was getting close. Real close. "Fuck. I'm going to cum so hard in that pretty little mouth of yours," Seungcheol moans, his hips thrust forward as he nears his climax. As you wait for him to release, you can feel his body tighten, his breath catch, and his cock twitch inside your mouth. It doesn't take long before he's spilling himself down your throat, his moans and groans filling the room.
The taste of his cum lingers on your tongue as you swallow. Some spill out of your mouth and drip down your chin. You pull away with a 'pop.' "Fuck," he curses under his breath, his hand running through his damp hair as he tries to catch his breath. "Did I satisfy you, my god?" you inquired. A small chuckle escapes his lips. Oh, how you enticed him. He leans down, grabs your face, and pulls you in for a deep kiss. You melted into the embrace as the kiss became more intense and passionate, losing yourself in the moment. He could taste the lingering taste of his essence on your lips.
Seungcheol pulls away slightly, his lips hovering over yours, and answers your question. "Oh, more than you ever known, darling," he said. His lips returned to yours; the kiss was so passionate and electric. He gently stood you up, beckoning you to straddle his lap. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer as you deepen the kiss.
He rose, his hands firmly gripping your waist, and kneeled to lay you down gently, never releasing the kiss in the middle of the bed. Your bodies are pressed together in a passionate embrace. He pulls away to lay open-mouth kisses on your neck, leaving marks all over as his hand gently caresses your breast. You never had someone that drove you crazy with a desire like this. His touch was electrifying; it sent a shiver down your spine and left you wanting more. Every touch, every kiss, and every caress made you feel alive in a way you had never experienced before. And you wanted more. Your hips buckle against his touch, grinding against his body in a silent plea for more, yet he stops your hips from grinding, keeping you still.
"Seungcheol. Please."
"Patient darling," Seungcheol uttered into your neck. His voice was deep and soothing. His hand traveled to land on your wet core, and his finger began to rub tiny circle on your clit causing you to gasp.
"I need to prep you. We don't want it to hurt, do we?" He continued, his touch gentle yet firm. His hand spreads your folds apart to expose your entrance. His fingers slowly enter you, stretching you in a way that makes you moan with pleasure. "Just relax," he whispered before kissing your cheek. His slow and deliberate movements ensured you were ready for what was to come.
Then he added a second finger, increasing both pressure and intensity. The sensation of being filled and stretched by him made you arch your back in pleasure.
"That's it. That's my good girl. You're so warm," he whispers.
His mouth soon wrapped around your nipple as he scissors you open. You couldn't stop the moan from escaping. "You're doing so well," he whispers, his voice filled with admiration and desire. The mix of his sucking and biting on your breast to his finger massaging your walls made you feel close to the edge of losing control. His touch drove you insane. And when he curled his finger, touching that spongy spot, you couldn't help but moan loudly in pleasure. "There. Right there."
Letting your breast go with a pop, he murmurs, "Hm. There." His movements intensify as he focuses on that sensitive area. You nod your head, encouraging him to keep going. He smiles and increases the pressure before attacking the other breast with the same frequency. Your body arches towards him, unable to contain the emotions coursing through you.
"Look how well you take my fingers inside that tight little pussy of yours. You're doing good for me," he growls, his voice low and husky. Your moans increased as his fingers moved so rapidly that you could barely keep up with the overwhelming pleasure. Your mind had gone blank. You didn't hear anything but the sound of your own ragged gasps, the pounding of your heart in your ears, and the squelching sound of your wetness as he continued to please you.
It was so intense that you felt your whole body tremble. Every never-ending was on fire as he plowed into and out of your cunt. As he continued, you could feel the tension building up inside you, ready to explode at any moment. Your breathing quicken. Your heart raced as you were on the edge. On the edge of pure pleasure
"S- Cheol. Close," you gasp out, feeling the heat pooling in your core. His movements become more urgent, pushing you closer to the edge.
"Oh. You gonna cum again. Go ahead, darling. Cum. Cum on my fingers," he encouraged. Your breath was ragged, and your moan was loud as you finally reached your peak, intense pleasure washing over you in waves. Seungcheol's fingers continued their relentless pace, prolonging your climax until you were left trembling and spent. His movement slows down as he watches you come down from your high.
"Good girl," he praises you with a smirk as his fingers slowly withdraw from your sensitive core. You whimper as Seungcheol lightly taps your oversensitive clit a few times before slipping his wet fingers into his mouth and tasting the remnants of your desire. He moans at the delicious flavor.
"I can't get enough of you," he murmurs, his eyes dark with desire as he leans in to kiss you deeply. The taste of yourself on his lips only heightens your arousal, and you eagerly respond to his hungry kisses. He shifts himself between your legs, grinding into you as his cock presses against your slick fold.
He wrapped his hand around his cock and slowly stroked it before placing it on your entrance, collecting all of your wetness as he teased you with the tip. "Ready," he whispers huskily. You nod your head.
"Please," you beg, arching your hips towards him, desperate for him to fill you. He obliges, slowly entering you with a groan of pleasure, causing you to gasp at the feeling of fullness. And god, was he big? He was practically splitting you open with every push he made. You never knew you could be this full. Just as you took him all the way in, you felt like absolute heaven.
"Damn, darling. You feel so incredible," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.
You cling to him, feeling every inch of him deep inside you. He look at you, asking for permission to move and you granted it. He began to move in a slow and deliberate rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could not help moaning in ecstasy, totally absorbed in the sensation of being conquered by him. It was a feeling that you had never experienced before. It was intoxicating and overwhelming in all the right ways. Seungcheol grated at your facial expression. You look beautiful, he thought inwardly. The way your face twisted in pleasure. The way your body moves with every thrust. The way you look underneath right now. It only fuels his desire to give you more.
So his hands grabbed your hips and plunged deeper, setting a fast pace that had you gasping for breath. The intensity of his movements matched the passion in his gaze, making you feel desired and cherished in a way that left you craving more.
"Such a good girl. Taking me in so deep," he praises, his hands gripping your hips firmly as he sets a rhythm that has you seeing stars. Your body responds eagerly to his every movement, increasing the intensity with each thrust. The pleasure is overwhelming, making you lose yourself in the moment. He lifts your leg and places it on his shoulder, opening you up even further and allowing him to penetrate even deeper. The sensation of him hitting that perfect spot deep inside you sends waves of ecstasy through your body, making you arch your back and moan uncontrollably.
"Feel good, darling," he said, his voice husky with desire.
"Yes. So good."
He smirked at your response, knowing he was driving you wild with pleasure. "Really?"
He asks teasingly, his eyes dark with lust as he proceeds to move with deliberate precision.
"I-Is-."
You started.
"Is. What is it? Come on, tell me, darling," he urged, his fingers gripping your hips firmly as he quickened his pace. The moment's intensity was overwhelming, making it difficult for you to form coherent words as you surrendered to the pleasure coursing through your body.
"I-Is. Is it good for you, my god?" You finally stammered out, your voice barely audible over your ragged breaths. He released a low, guttural groan before murmuring, "It's more than good, darling."
His movement slows down as he leans over to you, his lips hover over yours, his forehead pressing against each other, and his eyes gaze into yours as he slowly grinds into you.
"You feel so amazing around me," he whispers before his lips press against yours in a passionate kiss, sending a surge of electricity through your entire being.
Pulling away from the kiss, he took hold of your waist and plunged into you with the same rhythm but more rough and strenuous, leaving you gasping for air. The intensity of the moment is almost too much to bear; you can practically feel tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. But you welcomed it with open arms, craving the raw connection and overwhelming pleasure he brought to you.
Your body moves in complete harmony as his thrusts intensify. You were lost in the bliss of the moment. And just when your stomach began to tighten, just when you felt yourself being tipped over the edge again, he pulled out, leaving you empty. You whimpered in protest, but he flipped you over onto your stomach. Putting you on your hands and knees. His hand grips your hip tightly and enters you from behind, his movements rough and primal. You couldn't help but scream as you pressed your face against the sheets. Your back perfectly arched. The change in position only heightened the intensity of the moment, leaving you breathless, and his movements became even more intense and passionate.
"Oh god," you gasp, gripping the sheet underneath you, feeling every inch of him inside you. The sound of skin smacking against skin fills the room, your moans blending with his growls as he thrusts harder and deeper.
"Fuck, you're so perfect. Sucking me in like this," he grunts, his voice husky with desire, his eyes rolling back in his head as he loses himself in the pleasure of the moment.
His hands gripped your hips tightly, his movements becoming more intense and desperate. The tears that you held back, you finally let flow down your cheeks, mingling with the sweat that coated your skin. You can't deny it. You were in bliss. Completely lost in the overwhelming pleasure. And every time he pulled out, you pulled him back in, craving more of his touch. You were addicted to him, and he was addicted to you.
Seungcheol hovers over you as his chest presses against your back. You felt his hand wrap around your throat, tightening his grip as he pounded into you with relentless force. You moaned, unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure. You could feel his breath on your skin as he spoke in your ear.
"Tell me, my dear. Who is making you feel this good?" Seungcheol whispers, his voice deep and commanding. You can't help but moan softly in response, feeling completely consumed by him in that moment.
"Y-you are," your stammering manages to enunciate.
"Louder," he demanded.
His hand squeezed your throat, and you gasped.
"Who is pleasing you like this?" he asks, his grip tightening slightly. Your body shivers in response to his commanding tone, feeling a rush of excitement as you surrender completely to him. "You are," you finally gasp out, your voice filled with desire and need.
"More. Who is making you scream like this? Come on. Tell me. Who?" he growls, his eyes dark with desire. His grip on your throat tightens even more, sending a jolt of pleasure. You feel a surge of arousal at his dominance, unable to resist his commanding presence. "You are. You are," you chant in a breathless whisper, your body trembling with anticipation. "Only you."
"That's right. Me. All me. Not that pathetic excuse of a man you call your husband. Me. It is I who is pleasing you. It is I who is making you feel utter bliss. It is I who is making you scream for all of Olympus to hear. And it is I who's going to fill your cunt with so much of my seed that you'll be swollen with my child," Seungcheol finished, his voice dark and possessive.
Your heart races as his words send chills down your spine. The intensity of his desire overwhelms you. You can't help but surrender to the power he holds over you. His dominant presence left you breathless, and his words ignited a fire within you that you couldn't resist.
"C-Cheol," you moan, your voice barely audible.
"That's right. Say my name. Scream it if you have to. Let the whole kingdom hear. You are mine," he growls, his grip on your neck loosening as your body drops on the bed. Pulling away, his hands grip your hips as he plunges into you with primal intensity.
Your moan turned into screams of pleasure as you felt the tension rising within you once again. You knew you couldn't hold back for much longer.
"I c-ca.. so close," you whisper, feeling the heat building in your core as Cheol's movements become more urgent and desperate. Your body trembles with anticipation, on the brink of ecstasy, as you give in to the overwhelming pleasure he's providing.
"Huh. You're close. Go ahead. I can feel you squeezing around my cock. Go on. Cum on this cock. Cream all over me," he commands, his voice rough with desire. You feel yourself shatter under his touch, the world fading away as you reach your peak, crying out his name in a final release of pleasure.
You were pulsating with a mixture of pleasure and relief, your body still trembling as you came down from the intense high he had brought you to. But, oh, he was far from done with you yet. Seungcheol flipped you over on your back. Cock still lodge into you. He grabs your legs and pins them close to your chest as he bends forward and puts you in a mating press, thrusting deep and hard. And you scream in pleasure as your arm wraps around his neck, listening to the squelching wet noise coming from your abused hole. Your body quivers at the force of his movements. This position has Seungcheol in deeper than before.
"S-Seungcheol. So deep. Oh so good," you gasp out between moans, feeling every inch of him inside you. Your hands clutch his back, your nails digging into his skin as he plunges into you with increasing intensity.
"You like how I please you? You like how I reward you? Hmm. Fuck, this pussy is so good.Make me want to bring you back with me. Is that what you want? To take you to Olympus. Have you warm my bed and be treated like a queen and be bred by me again and again?" Seungcheol whispers in your ear as he continues to plunge into you relentlessly.
"Yes," you screamed. "Yes, I love it. I love it so much. I want it. I want it so badly. You fuck me so good, Seungcheol," you moan.
So does he. He wants it so… bad. The thought of you on Olympus with him in his arms, being treated like royalty, and experiencing pleasure beyond imagination drives him wild. He can't resist the temptation to have you by his side. To take you away from this kingdom. To make you his own forever.
"Please. Please make me yours. Fill me with your seed. Fill me up, my God," you beg, your voice resounding with desperation and desire.
Your words fuel his desire as he pulls away, spreading your legs apart to take hold of your waist. He slightly raises your body and picks up the pace, thrusting harder and deeper into you. You felt a wave of pleasure overtake you as he ravaged you. Soon that tension started to build up again. You call out his name, begging for release. He groans in response, feeling on edge himself.
"Fuck. I'm close. Are you ready? Ready for your gift? Make sure you don't waste a single drop. Cum. Cum with me," he growls, his voice low and husky with lust. You nod eagerly. Your hand grips the sheets tightly, and your body perfectly sync with his, meeting each thrust with equal enthusiasm.
And with a final thrust, you both came together as he released his hot seed inside you, filling you up with a sense of completion and satisfaction. Your bodies trembled with the aftermath of your shared climax, leaving you both breathless and spent in each other's arms. You couldn't hear anything but the sound of your own heart pounding. Suddenly, Seungcheol pulled out, making you whimper slowly. He noticed that his cum was slowly leaking out of your hole, so he scooped up the remaining and pushed it back inside you with his fingers, causing you to gasp. His fingers massage your sensitive walls before he pulls them out gently as he goes to your stomach, caressing it softly and looking at it fondly.
"There, darling. Your gift. And soon this gift will blossom into something truly miraculous. So they can be loved, nurtured, and cherished. You will give them your love and support, and I will guide them to be the best. You will take care of my gift, won't you?" Seungcheol said as he looked up at you, still stroking your stomach.
"Yes, I will," you replied.
"Good, and if anyone harms them," he said with a dangerous glint, "I will make sure they regret it."
You nod your head at his words. "Good girl," he commented.
His hand caressed your cheek tenderly. "I cannot wait to see our gift grow," he said, his voice filled with antiradiation.
"May our child have my eyes and your looks," you said. Seungcheol heard your response and chuckled casually.
"Yes," he said, reaching out to push back the locks. He leans in and presses his forehead against yours and whispers,
"May our child have your wisdom and my strength."
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peachesofteal · 1 year ago
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Light On - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader 🎄 @glitterypirateduck’s December challenge: O Christmas Tree
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"What about this one?"
You're standing next to a giant tree, one that's probably double your height. "It's a little big but-"
"I don't know if that will fit in your flat, sweetheart." You huff, hands on your hips, and Emmaline wiggles where she's snuggled against him, tucked up on his chest inside his arms. You've got her in some sort of snow suit, like a baby marshmallow, capped with a red knit hat that ties under chin to keep the ear flaps down, and even though she clearly hates it, and looks a little ridiculous, he knows the whole thing is keeping her warm in tonight's frigid weather.
"Okay. What about this one?" The one you're pointing to now is smaller, but sparse, a little prickly looking. He shakes his head. "You don't like any of them!" You protest, and Emma grunts, babbling some sort of nonsense.
"'m just doing what the boss here is telling me to do." She looks up at him, eyes bright with a little bit of snot beneath her nose, and he wipes it away with his thumb. "There you go, baby girl. I gotcha."
"She's not the boss." You step close with a shiver, close enough that he can see the fog of your breath, peek of your neck beneath your scarf, and he reaches out to pad his fingertips across your chilled cheek.
"Cold?" You shrug.
"A little." You dip forward to give Emma a quick kiss on the cheek, and at the same time, he ducks down, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. He's never going to get used to this. Never. Even now, in this moment, he can't believe he's walking a tree lot with you, debating which one to choose. Him. Simon Ghost Riley, picking out a Yule tree with you and the baby. His family.
There's a bang in the street. A car backfiring, probably, but it's enough that it startles someone else on the lot, and they shout, the combination like a shot of adrenaline to his heart, focus and intensity taking over, his movements shifting to autopilot. His hand covers Emma's head, curling forward at the same as he tugs you into his body with a firm arm around your back, essentially immobilizing you, keeping you close in case- "Simon." You say his name softly, gently, fingers holding onto his forearm. The touch grounds him, reminds him to breathe, and he relaxes slightly. "It's alright. We're okay, we're at the Christmas tree place. You're okay. You're with us." With you. With you and Emmaline. At home. He closes his eyes, repeating it in his mind, twice, three times, for good measure, before he trusts enough to uncover the baby's head and let go of you completely. You smile when he does, bright, beautiful, sweet, still working you touch against his arm, not stepping away.
"I'm sorry." He tries to explain, but you shake it off.
"Don't be. It's okay." You loop your arm through his, sticking close to his side. "Want to keep looking?" You ask, nonchalant, and he's overcome with emotion so strong it could bring him to his knees.
"Yeah, but I... I want..." he stumbles over it, words failing, and you wait, patiently, turning into him so you can look up at his face.
"What is it?" Holiday lights glow behind you, twinkling colors mixed with frosted whites, strung together across trees and posts and big red and green signs, 'O Christmas Tree' playing over the speakers that line the perimeter. He's never been one for holidays, never really cared about any of it, all the excitement lost on him, most of the celebrated days spent alone. But now... with you, with the baby, he feels the magic. He thinks he can even see it, in you, in Emmaline, and he's filled to the brim with the wonder, the anticipation for it all, to experience it all for the first time like this, with his angels.
"I want to kiss you." He says the same words he gave you a week ago, outside on the balcony, and you give you him the same smile, warm and welcoming, lips curling upwards with happiness.
"Please." You beam, and he obliges, your lips parting for his, getting lost in the taste of your mouth, decadent honey dripping across his tongue. You make him dizzy, make him stupid, make him so weak for you, and all he wants is more. He wants it all, wants everything you'd give him, and he has to hold himself back, cognizant of Emma in his arms, pulling away regretfully after five seconds that could last five hours, or days. Years. You clear your throat. "Well, okay, uh- should we?" You motion to another row of trees, and he nods with a laugh.
"We should."
Later, after the tree has been decorated, dinner has been made and cleaned up, fire started in the fireplace, Emmaline has had her bath, and you've changed into your pajamas, he sits on your couch with you curled into his side, both you and the baby asleep. It's late, and the lights are out, and he thinks he probably should have woken you to get you both up into bed, but he can't bring himself to shatter the moment, the silence, the fire, and the sounds of your breathing, face barely illuminated by the glow of the lights. He stays right there, listening to the crackle of the logs, staring at the tree, watching the two of you breathe, heart so full he thinks it could explode. This is it, he thinks. This is the magic.
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leclerc-hs · 7 months ago
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it's cool, we're just friends? - cl16
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pairing: college!charles leclerc x fem!reader (friends with benefits!) summary: in which you and a guy in your class are friends with benefits OR you and your friends with benefits might be more? warnings: smut under the cut! thigh-riding, throat-fucking, p in v sex!, no condoms (bad!), badly translated french (pls correct me), angst, pining, NOT PROOFREAD!!!! word count: 4.8k! author's note: so i ALMOST scrapped this entire thing because i wasn't sure how i felt about it so if it sucks, i understand LOL. i had a lot of fun writing this and can see myself writing a lot of scenarios for them like before there was this many feelings involved? like maybe a spring break one shot for them, when they hooked up for first time ;) PLEASE let me hear your thoughts and any comments you have. I love hearing from you guys xoxo
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
THE WEIGHT OF his eyes bore into the back of your skull, a palpable presence as you immerse yourself in the lecture before you. It’s almost become a ritual at this point: a magnetic pull compels you to glance his way, and there he is, a smirk stretching wide across his face, as if he holds the upper hand.
In that fleeting moment where your eyes meet his verdant gaze, a fierce intensity ignites within you. It’s as if a wildfire unleashes, consuming you with an unbridled mix of desire and exasperation. Your stomach tightens with a fervent ache, betraying the absolute irritation you feel at his ability to rile you up with one look.
Internally, Charles wrestles with the urge to gaze at you as though you’ve strung the stars and moon just for him. Yet, outwardly, he remains steadfast, unwilling to reveal his vulnerability when it comes to you. Instead, he masks his emotions behind a practiced smirk—a façade. And the blushing reaction you give him almost every time, only enthuses him more.
“Arrête!” You half-shout, though it emerges more as a whispered urgency amidst the large lecture hall.
Charles leans in over his desk, his lips hovering dangerously close to the shell of your ear, a proximity that sets your heart racing with a rapid intensity.
“Est-ce que je te verra ice soir?” Will I see you tonight?
You kept your head straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge the warmth of him being so close, resisting the allure of his voice. 
“Peut-être.” Maybe.
At the front of the lecture hall, Professor Bernard stands tall, his expression grave as he prepares his common ‘you guys are smarter than this’ speech about the recent exam grades. He highlights the alarming fact that more than half of the class received a 70% or lower. And true to his reputation as the kindest professor, he extends an olive branch by offering retakes to those who seek improvement before dismissing the lecture.
You gather your belongings, ready to make your exit, when suddenly, a heavy arm wraps around your shoulder just as you cross the threshold of the door.
You? Aced it. Charles? Not so aced it.
Which you knew meant you were helping him study as usual.
-
You watch as Charles runs his fingers through his disheveled locks, each movement betraying a hint of frustration and determination. His lips form a subtle pout as he fixates on the study material you laid out before him, his furrowed brows highlighting the depth of his concentration.
“Mon chou, je ne pensais pas que tu m’avais invite pour ça.” I didn’t think you invited me over for this.
With a gleam in his eyes, he wiggles his eyebrows playfully as he collapses on the many pillows of your bed behind him. The papers scattered across the bed threaten to take flight, but your swift reflexes saved them from soaring away into chaos.
You narrow your eyes in mock annoyance, but the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips betrays your amusement at the situation.
“Tu dois étudier.” You need to study.
Charles stares at the corners of your lips, his eyes not straying once from them even as you spoke. 
“Embrasse-moi d’abord.” Kiss me first. He nearly begs; his face almost completely covered by the hood of his sweatshirt as he laid on his back beside your cross-legged figure.
“Étudie.” Study. Your words were firm, yet you could feel your resolve slipping under the intensity of his gaze, as it traces a path from your lips to your eyes, igniting a warmth that stirred whenever he was near.
His arm reaches up behind your neck in a swift motion, too quick for you to even see it coming. His fingers grabbing the nape of your neck in a tight grip as he brings your face down to his, your body toppling over his in an unnatural position from his force. His lips collide with yours instantly, and the squeal you elicit gives him easy access to slip his tongue into your mouth. 
He groans softly against your mouth, something about how sweet your mouth tastes. The moan that escapes your lips and melded into his mouth drove him absolutely crazy. The grip on the back of your neck didn’t loosen as he held you to him, giving you no opportunity to pull away from him.
Your tank top cladded chest was pressed against the side of his body, embracing you in his warmth. You press a hand to his chest, attempting to push yourself up, but he groans against your lips in detest before loosening his grip on your neck. 
“Est-ce vraiment necessaire.” Do we have to? He begins to pepper kisses all around your face, his fingers dipping under the straps of your tank top, tracing intricate patterns of the soft skin beneath.
You slip your hand under the warmth of his hoodie, his toned muscles flexing under your cold fingertips as you trail your hand up his chest and slip one leg over him, straddling his thigh. His skin was so warm. Almost like a furnace.
He sucks in a breath, as if your touch hurt him, but really, he craved it. He wanted you everywhere. The tight leggings that adorned your body did little to prevent Charles from feeling the heat and arousal of your pussy against his thigh. A smirk widened on his lips almost instantly. He knew he had you right where he wanted you.
He could sense your contemplative thoughts by one glance at your eyes. As if you knew he needed to study, but you needed this more.
 You could barely concentrate the minute Charles sprawled onto your bed earlier, his legs spread and shorts riding up to expose the muscles of his thighs. It was even harder to think with the way his soft green eyes look up at you, and the way his fingers felt on you.
His hand trails from beneath the strap of your tank top, your hardened nipples more than visible through the thin fabric of it, to the front of your breasts.
“No bra?” His thumb rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger above the fabric of your shirt. “Planning on getting fucked, hm?” 
Your hips rut against his thigh almost instantly in response to his words. The feeling of his thigh against your clit, causing a soft moan to slip. It was then, that Charles seemed to lose all restraint as his hand grasped the side of your neck and squeezed lightly, his thumb resting in the center of your neck. He flexed his thigh, his eyes gleaming at the sight of your blown out pupils.
“Regarde-toi,” Look at you. He edged you on. “Just wanna ride m’thigh, yeah?” 
Your hips move in their own rhythm, unable to stop. It just feels too good. You nodded repeatedly as you lean over, pressing your chest to his, as he claims your lips once again. His hot, tongue sliding against yours as the stubble of his facial hair scratches your chin.
You struggle, losing the rhythm of your hips until Charles slid his hands down to your waist, guiding your movements. “C’mon mon chou, tu dois travailler pour ça.” You have to work for it.
“We should study.” You mention, the pace of your hips not stopping. As if your body has a mind of its own.
“Nous sommes.” We are. He argues, his fingertips squeezing into the skin of your hips even more. “Now, keep rubbing that pretty little pussy on me.”
-
“Oh, what about her?” You point to the pretty brunette that was currently leaned against the wall, a red solo cup in her manicured hand, as she was deep in conversation with a few other girls that you haven’t seen before.
Charles sighs heavily, rolling his eyes just slightly. “Why are you pawning me off?” He cracks a smile, his elbows gently hitting your side.
You let out a small laugh before bringing your own cup to your lips. The liquid of your drink resting on the top of your lip as you finished a sip and turned to look at Charles. “M’not!” You shrug your shoulders. “Elle est jolie and keeps looking at you thinkin’ no one’s noticed.” She’s pretty.
He wouldn’t know about the ‘pretty brunette’ you claimed was there. He didn’t know about any other girl that was here. His eyes haven’t left your figure the entire night. Since you stepped in the entrance of the house he was by your side, it was like his body knew you arrived.
“Peu importe ça, m’gonna go dance.” Whatever. You stick your tongue out at him, earning a deep laugh, and saunter off to find one of your friends already on the makeshift dance floor in the living room of the house. 
Charles leans casually against the wall, his eyes tracing the contours of your radiant smile from afar. Despite himself, a soft grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he takes in the sight of you.
“Are you sure you’re not together?” One of his friends, Alex, teases, leaning in close to Charles and handing him a red solo cup, its contents mostly frothy beer foam from an evidently lazy pour. “I was thinking of asking her out.”
Charles’s gaze drift from the frothy mess in his cup to Alex’s expectant face, a furrow forming on his brow. It wasn’t the foam that troubled him, rather, it was Alex’s words that unsettled him. How was he supposed to respond? We aren’t together but I think I’m in love with her?
Charles clenches his jaw, fighting back the urge to speak his truth, as the words “have at it” slip past his lips with a forced nonchalance. With a hollow smile, he raises the cup to his lips, swallowing the acrid liquid with a newfound eagerness that masked the bitter taste of envy and longing festering in his chest. As Alex made his way towards you, Charles couldn’t help but feel a pang of anguish, knowing that he was relinquishing his chance to confess his feelings, drowning them instead in the depths of a cheap beer.
-
“Mmm, tu es tellement douée.” You’re so good.
You weren’t quite sure how you ended up in this scenario. All you remember is being dragged away from a game of beer-pong with Alex, his fingers gripping your wrist so tightly it could’ve left marks, and shoving you onto your knees as soon as he shut the bathroom door. 
Dwelling on the how’s and why’s seemed inconsequential now. Especially with his cock buried deep down your throat like it is right now, and especially with the praises that slip past his lips.
Charles lulls his head back with a loud groan as he flexes his hips into your mouth, giving you little to no opportunity to breathe. No opportunity to speak. But you didn’t care. You would do anything to please him.
“Tellement putain de jolie, mon dieu.” So fucking pretty, my God.
“Bet you’re soaked under that dress, hm?” His grip on your hair tightens. “Got you all wet without even touching you.” His laugh is deep and mocking. You feel your thighs clench, like it was an automatic response. “Only I get you like this, yeah?”
You press your face forward, not even needing his force as you take full enjoyment in the feeling of him in your mouth.
“So eager, mon chou.”
You moan at the feeling of his smooth cock against the walls of your throat. The vibrations of your moan, immediately sending him over the edge. His white, hot cum spills down your throat, filling you up, before he pulls out. A long string of saliva follows, your eyes completely teary. 
He lifts you from your knees, the cool tile of the bathroom floor no longer your support, his thumb gently resting on your chin as he studies you for a mere second. Taking in the streaky tears under your eyes and your swollen lips. He could already feel the blood rushing back to his cock.
“Bet you’re leaking all over yourself, yeah?” You catch the smirk that pulls onto his lips before his lips crash down onto yours. His teeth nibbling on your bottom lip for a brief second before he’s pulling away, pushing you up onto the bathroom sink counter as he stands in between your spread legs. “All achy?” He cocked his head to the side a little, like he knew something you didn’t.
It was so fast, you weren’t even able to ask questions before he leaned forward, his fingers slipping into the lace of your underwear, pushing them aside, and pressing his hot tongue to your soaked core.
You swore you’ve never moaned so loud in your life as you just did in this moment.  At the feeling of the kitten licks on your clit, at the feeling of him shoving two fingers into you, finding that spot he knew you loved most almost instantly.
Your fingers franticly reached into his tousled locks, pulling his hair probably harder than necessary, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he moaned right into your pussy. Like he couldn’t ever get enough of you. Like he would stay licking you for forever if he could.
“Mon dieu,” My god. You squeal as your head lulls back against the cool mirror behind you and bite your lip trying to conceal the moans.
You look down at Charles, his eyes already staring at you, his green eyes completely darkened now. It makes your stomach do a multitude of flips. Your attempt to squeeze your legs shut from the pressure building in your stomach, but Charles grips his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh, holding them open.
A series of knocks are heard on the bathroom door which sends you into a total panic to which Charles yells “Va te faire foutre!” Fuck off!
 Your body squirms against Charles’ mouth and the granite of the countertop, but he holds you in place as if to say you’re not going anywhere until you soak my mouth.
He ate you out like a possessed man. Your chest is flushed red as the speed of his tongue picks up, sending you into overdrive. It wasn’t until he sucks harshly on your clit, the pressure of it, has you leaping over the edge into your orgasm. You came hard enough that your body arched, your fingers clenching his hair, pulling hard.
Charles doesn’t come up right away, he licks and licks until you’re pushing him off you. Both of your chests rose and fell in rhythm with each heavy breath, the lingering echoes of the lively party beyond the door gradually seeping back into your consciousness. It felt as though you had just descended from a faraway realm, returning to the bustling reality surrounding you.
His lips glistened, coated in you, as he stares at you completely fucked out on the bathroom counter. An unmistakable smugness in his expression.
His heart clenches as he drinks in the sight of you, so many emotions swirling in his chest. As you stretch your lips into that smile he loves so much, he feels a swell of warmth flood his senses, a tender ache stirring in the depths of his soul.
“Qu’est-ce qui te prend?” What’s gotten into you?
Not that you were complaining at what just happened. If anything, you wouldn’t mind if he wanted a repeat right now.
He nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, one hand leisurely slipping into his pocket, while the other moved to grasp the door handle. With a patient stance, he awaited your readiness before even considering opening the door. “J’avais juste besoin de toi,” Just needed you. He whispers, his voice carrying a tender resonance, emphasizing the depth of longing.
And then he’s swinging the door open, guiding you both back to the party.
-
“Je pense que nous devrions arrêter.” I think we should stop.
The words felt heavy in your throat as you said them, your hand clasped in Charles’ hand as you sat across from one another in the campus coffee shop.
Charles chuckled softly, taking a leisurely sip of his drink, but when be caught the seriousness in your expression, his laughter faded. His eyebrows knitted together, a pang of pain igniting in his chest and spreading like wildfire.
You watched as he leaned his head back against the booth, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if unable to meet your eyes.
“Que veux-tu dire?” What do you mean? He met your eyes again, and you noticed a subtle shift in their hue—they were slightly darker than their usual shade of green.
“Je ne pense pas que ç ava marcher.” I don’t think this is going to work out. As you uttered the words, a queasy sensation churned in your stomach, making you feel like you were going to be sick. Similarly, Charles felt a wave of nausea wash over him upon hearing your words, his own stomach in knots.
Just looking at him had your eyes burning, but you refused to let the tears fall. Despite the overwhelming love you felt for this man, you couldn’t ignore the reality that it was unlikely to progress beyond the messy situation you found yourselves in. What were you supposed to do? Be friends that fuck for the rest of your lives?
You couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. No, you’ve been thinking about this for so long, but cutting it off was just too hard. Cutting him off was too hard.
As you watched him slowly retract his fingers from yours, his hand moving to pinch the bridge of his nose while he blinked, a fiery ache within your chest grew.
“We’re friends, always, right?” You asked, offering him a soft smile, though inside, your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest. You reminded yourself that this was necessary. You needed to go on dates. Not that he was exactly holding you back. It just felt wrong to go on dates while sleeping with another.
“Right,” he responded, his expression devoid of a smile. “Friends.” He nodded slowly, as if carefully considering the weight of the situation before him.
“Est-ce que je peux demander ce qui a déclencé cela?” Can I ask what brought this up? His fingers tapped restlessly along the edge of the table, betraying his impatience as he awaited your answer.
Meanwhile, you sat twiddling your thumbs in your lap, occasionally stealing glances at them. Why did this conversation feel so unbearably difficult?
“Quoi?” What?
“Est-ce que j’ai fait quelque chose?” Did I do something?
You shook your head instantly, a small blush forming on your cheeks. “I just,” You began, but felt flustered as you took a pause to look back down at your fingers and then him again. His eyes made you feel hot all over, the way they never strayed from your face whenever you spoke to him, the way they dropped to your lips every so often as if he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you. He couldn’t.
“I just think I need to go on dates.” You nervously smiled.
“You think?” He scoffed, throwing one arm over the top of the booth, and resting it there as he fell into a relaxed position. His eye twitched slightly, as he flexed his hand and clenched it like he was holding himself back.
You’re not sure how to respond. You had anticipated this conversation to be brief, perhaps along the lines of “I think we should end this,” followed by his immediate agreement. But apparently, that wasn’t the case. You could feel yourself growing flustered the longer you sat here. Why couldn’t he just simply agree, no questions asked.
You nodded, with slight hesitance. Did you really want to end it with him? No.
He shrugged his shoulders, pulling a little smirk on his face as he usually did. “Très bien.” Fine.
And that was that.
-
Charles decided that he had it up to here when you strolled into the house party, lips shiny with gloss, and you hand held in none other than Alex’s. It was as if you were trying to torture him. Like you knew that he loved you and you just wanted to hurt him a little more.
He’s watching, you can feel his eyes burn into you as you turn your head, pretending to listen to Alex as he rambles on about some story. You don’t let yourself glance over to Charles until later in the night, when he’s leaned up against the kitchen counter, a half-empty beer bottle gripped in his hand, eyes already on you.
You felt your stomach do a multitude of flips from the eye-contact, that you even almost pulled your hand from Alex’s. Like you were caught doing something wrong.
You quickly realized that you had little to no self-control, especially when it came to Charles. With his hair pushed back and the linen shirt half-unbuttoned, allowing the toned and taut muscles of his stomach to peek through, it almost seemed as though he wanted to make it even harder for you to resist. Like he wanted to punish you for not choosing him.
He had you right where he wanted you, sort of.
“Shh,” Charles nips at your earlobe, eliciting a mewl from you as he presses you against the mattress of his bed. “You want everyone to hear what a whore you are, hm?”
Another string of moans leaves your lips as he thrusts into you, the pads of his fingers gripping the front of your neck tightly. His eyes fixed on yours, the pace of his hips was slow, but so deep. 
“Tell me,” Charles began, his tongue trailing along your collarbones and up your neck until his mouth hovered over yours. “Still wanna play stupid games with me, jolie fille?” Pretty girl.
You whined as his hips picked up in pace. “Ouvrir.” Open. You did so without a second thought, only to be met with a string of saliva meeting your tongue. Charles groaned as you swallowed his spit, eagerly.
“Still wanna pretend we’re just friends?” He could feel your walls trembling as her hand snaked its way to the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers. It was a tangle of tongues and moans.
“Does he fuck you as good as me?” You couldn’t handle the way he was talking to you, staring at you, touching you. “Gripping me like you’re gonna come.”
You shook your head repeatedly. 
“That’s it,” His voice was gentle in your ear. “So good, mon chou.” 
Your breaths were jagged and heavy as he took you harder and harder. “Rub your pretty little clit for me, yeah?” 
Your body was shaking as you trailed your fingers down, fingers playing with your clit. Charles rested on his knees, his eyes staring at his cock being swallowed by your pussy, and the way your fingers toyed with your sensitive clit. He groaned at the sight of his cock coated in you. 
It wasn’t long before you careening forward with a cry, your body arching off the bed, as you came around his cock. Charles fell forward over you, an arm on each side of your head, as he cocooned you. His hips didn’t let up as you sobbed out, your toes curling.
Charles could feel his resolve slipping at the feeling of your soaked walls clenching him. He threw his head into the crevice of your neck, the rhythm of his hips faltering as you wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to thrust even deeper than before. He rolled his hips, pumping into you with such a fervent rush. 
“Mon dieu,” His groans were soft in your ear. “You feel so good.”
It wasn’t until you moaned in his ear, begging for him to come in you, that he lost all control. A deep moan, pressing his hips down against yours as he held you down, pumping his cum deep into you.
For a few moments, it was silent. Just the sound of your heavy breaths as Charles collapsed to the side of you. You both felt oddly at peace, even with the thumping of the house party music heard from the other side of his bedroom door.
Charles stood up, grabbing a towel from his bathroom, before bringing it to you to help clean you up. Something primal filled his chest as he stared at you sprawled on his bed, his cum dripping out of you. 
It was the last swipe of the towel when he finally spoke.
“We’re not friends.” He stated. He was sick of teetering around the topic. He was sick of seeing you with other guys at his house.
You opened your mouth to retort, but he held his hand up, essentially silencing you. 
“Stop pretending you want any other guy’s cock.” He stood before you as you sat up on the edge of the bed still naked, hands clenched at his sides in a fist. You began to stand up, your face turning red with anger, not because of his words but because he was right.
You grabbed your dress that was in a pile on the floor, slipping it on in a hurry. “Je dois partir.” I need to go. You began, “Alex me cherche probablement.” Alex is probably looking for me.
It was then that Charles raised his voice, if it weren’t for the loud music, you could’ve sworn the entire house would’ve heard.
“J’en ai tellement marre de ça!” I’m so sick of this! He runs his fingers through his hair, pacing the room back and forth. You felt your words caught in your throat as you stood still, your eyes following his every movement until he stood before you, his hands gripping your waist.. “Je t’aime!” I love you! He laughs after he says it, like he’s so pathetically in love with you and you have no care in the world for it.
“I cannot handle seeing you with another man.” He rambles off. “I cannot handle seeing you showing up here, to my home, holding another man’s hand.” He seethes, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to pinch the bridge of his nose as he breathes in, attempting to calm himself down.
“I know you love me.” His fingers grab your hand, pulling it up to his chest and holding it where his heart beats. Tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed at him, his eyes reflecting a wild intensity, his hair disheveled hair adding to his untamed allure. Sensing your vulnerability, he gently cupped your face with his other hand, offering you a tender touch. You leaned into his comforting embrace, as if seeking solace in his presence. With a silent nod, you pressed your head against his hand, a single tear escaping down your cheek, bearing witness to the depth of your emotions.
“I’m so sick of seeing people with what is mine.” He urged. “You can’t be someone else’s, not when you are already mine.”
“Charlie,” You drew in a deep breath, locking eyes with him, drowning in the depths of his green gaze. Every fiber of your being resonated with love for this man, an unshakeable devotion that consumed your soul.
“S’il te plait.” Please. His voice was a whispered hush as he begged. “Put me out of my misery.” 
He opened his mouth to continue, but you didn’t let him. You stood on the tips of your toes, leaning forward to press your chest against his as you pressed your lips to him. His arms immediately wrapping around your waist as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. He groaned at the taste of you in his mouth again, his cock already hardening for you.
You pulled off him, “Really?” He let a small laugh escape his lips as he pulled your mouth back onto his for a small peck.
“I’m a man in love.” He grins, like he has nothing to be ashamed about.
“Je t’aime.” I love you.
Charles tenderly pressed his lips to the side of your neck, his tongue tracing delicate patterns along the velvety skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Répète-le.” Say it again. He whispers, his voice husky with desire. As his lips continue down their intoxicating dance on your neck, his fingers trail the straps of your dress, gradually easing them down your shoulders with a tantalizing touch.
“Je t’aime.” I love you. He placed a small nip to your neck, eliciting a small squeal, as he lifted you up and carried you back to his bed.
“M’so in love with you,” He presses a kiss to your lips. “Don’t think I’ll ever stop.”
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jeysbvck · 2 years ago
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eufezco · 11 months ago
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IF IT WEREN'T FOR THE BABY — FINNICKODAIR x FEM!READER
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IN WHICH Finnick is interviewed by Caesar.
Caesar Flickerman greeted Finnick. Everyone in the audience stood up from their seats when he entered the stage, men chanted his name and women shouted for his attention. ―Thank you, thank you so much. ―Finnick smiled and waved to everyone in the audience who had welcomed him so warmly. He was especially handsome that night. The white shirt that your stylist had put on him had a large opening in the front that went down to almost his belly button, somewhat revealing for the Capitol but not vulgar at all. The bottom part of his outfit was a skirt that reached his ankles and the necklaces made with materials from your district rested on his neck.
From your place backstage you could appreciate how Finnick's green eyes shone under the spotlights. They also had that lovely glow when he saw you arrive at the back of the stage with your outfit. He wanted to tell you how pretty you looked, he wanted to help you relax before going on stage with Caesar. Finnick knew how uncomfortable those questions, often more private than they should be, made you. But it had been days since the last time you talked to him and you didn't have a Capitol camera on you, and that didn't seem to be the moment when you were going to speak to him again.
You had taken the opportunity to look him up and down when he was not aware of your presence. When his eyes fell on you, you acted unbothered, with a serious face and not paying attention to him for even a second. He was by your side with his hands behind his back minutes before he went onto the stage, you were paying attention to the tributes being interviewed but Finnick was looking at you out of the corner of his eye.
―You look great. ―Finnick dared to say. He didn't receive an answer from you, not even a look of disdain or a grimace. He pressed his lips together, defeated, and stretched the muscles in his back as the host introduced him.
You stayed backstage, watching him with your arms crossed and with still no expression on your face. The trip to the Capitol had been tense. Very tense on your part. Your hostile attitude hadn't made things easy for Finnick, your mentor Mags, and even yourself. From the instant your names came out through your stay at the tribute's hotel up to that moment, you had been avoiding Finnick. Mags had tried to bring you back to him, but you were pissed off. Pissed off with the Capitol for putting you in that arena with the love of your life, with Finnick for pretending that everything was okay, and with yourself for not letting them kill you in your first games.
You looked over your shoulder when a girl covered in white fabric appeared in your visual field. She came closer to you, accompanied by Effie who was constantly arranging her dress, and you rolled your eyes. ―A wedding dress. Of course. ―You pointed out loud enough for the girl to hear you.
You and that girl liked each other. Very similar personalities, highly challenging to the Capitol, difficult to contain for President Snow. You wouldn't say you two had a friendship but your encounters during training definitely could have been the beginning of one if you were not just a few days away from fighting for your lives in the games. Again.
―Snow made me wear it. ―Katniss confessed.
You looked up and down at her and nodded.― Make him pay for it.
―Finnick, it is an honor to have you here with us tonight. ― They both sat and Caesar grabbed both FInnick's hands, shaking them. The smile remained on Finnick's lips. ―We thought we would never have you back but we're so glad that we get to see you once again. Let's show some love to Finnick Odair, ladies and gentlemen!
At that moment the people in the audience applauded and shouted for him again. Your eyes were still focused on your partner, the boy was very relaxed, grateful for all the affection he was receiving from the people of the Capitol. Gosh, he was so good at pretending. At that moment your dress started to feel too tight and your stomach grumbled; was it because of the crappy food you'd been at the Capitol? Because of how tight was the dress around your body? Or was it because of how disgusted you felt with the person Finnick became when a Capitol camera focused on him? Even if you knew he was faking it, you didn't like seeing him like that.
―The pleasure is always mine, Caesar.
―Finnick, we saw that dramatic reaping day that took place on District 4 and I think I speak for everyone when I say that we lived it very intensely. ―Murmurs could be heard in the audience agreeing with the host. Finnick pressed his lips together and nodded. ―First, your name comes out, ten years after your first victory, and then her name comes out and we can see how your expression changes completely. Look, look at that. ―The images from that day played on the big screens for the people to watch and you had to look away.
You swallowed and tensed your back, all the memories of that day came to your head unwantedly. His name. Your heart feeling heavy inside your chest. Him walking to the center of the stage with a smile on his lips. His eyes on you telling you to not worry. Your name. Gasps from the people of District 4. Finnick's jaw clenching. It became difficult for him to breathe. You walking to the center of the stage next to him with no smile on your lips. You shook hands. People clapped for you two.
―Are you okay? ―Katniss placed her hand on one of your shoulders and you nodded, closing your eyes and focusing on your breathing.
―People in District 4 love drama. ―A familiar voice said behind you two. The girl in her tree and wood-inspired outfit approached you and Katniss with a devilish smile on her lips. ―It's already done, girl. Your name came out already and you are here. Get yourself together. Snow is watching, don't embarrass yourself like this.
The relationship you had with Johanna Mason was complicated. You did consider her somewhat of a friend but sometimes she was too much. Finnick definitely knew how to deal with her better than you.
―We have been informed that she has expressly asked not to be here with you tonight, how does that make you feel?
―Well, it makes me feel sad, obviously. As everybody knows, she is a very special person to me and I think we could handle this situation much better together. Things have been difficult but I strongly believe we are the best allies, in and out of the arena. The love I have for her keeps me from having any negative feelings about her not wanting to sit with me here tonight, Caesar. I just hope that you all can enjoy her later.
―I'm sure we will have the best time with her. She's lovely, very lovely. ―People clapped. They loved Finnick. You could see it on their faces every time the boy opened his mouth, how they nodded their heads to everything he said, empathizing with him. In a way you were grateful for it, when the time came you knew they would rather save him. ―As you said, she'll be sitting here later and we know she's back there now, probably watching us and waiting for her moment. Finnick, is there anything you'd like to say to her?
Finnick nodded and acted for a few seconds as if he was looking for the words. As if he hadn't had this planned. ―My love, you have my heart. All eternity. And if I― if I die in that arena, my last thought will be of your lips.
―Oh, Finnick! You're going to make our hearts melt! When did you became such a loverboy?
―I've always been, Caesar.
They all laughed.
Johanna giggled and you ran your hand over your face. Maybe Johanna was right and the people of District Four were too dramatic. Katniss was left speechless, he and his ability to make those things sound natural surprised her. He reminded her of Peeta.
―Forgive me but I must ask because I know people are dying to know. Is everything okay between you two? Has the Quarter Quell been the cause of any couple crises?
People in the audience laughed again and so did Finnick. He didn't find it funny but laughed anyway which made you angrier.―No, that has not happened, no. We have had our ups and downs since that day, as you said, there have been a lot of emotions going on. We had plans for the future but we are trying to get through it.
―I'm sorry, Finnick, but you can't leave us like this. Plans for the future? Tell us more about that.
―We were trying for a baby.
That statement hit you like a big wave and swept you breathlessly to the seashore. You heard Johanna chuckling and Katniss, on the other hand, was as surprised and as confused as you were. People in the audience got up from their seats, demanding more information, asking if there was a wedding planned, and questioning if you were already pregnant.
―No we weren't. ―You mumbled getting the attention of the two girls who were with you. ―¡No we weren't! ― You tried to go on stage, angry like the sea during a storm and about to do something foolish that you would regret later and for which Mags would tell you off. Johanna was quick to step in front of you to prevent that from happening. Effie let out a little scream, seeing the scandal that was being made.
―Johanna, move.
The girl shook her head at you, smirking. That smirk. She knew all along.
―I'm not asking, Johanna. Move.
Johanna, again, shook her head at you.
―¡Ladies! Let's mind our manners and let's calm down. Please. ―Effie intervened, aware that there were people from the Capitol backstage watching. Katniss was behind you, silently rooting for Johanna to let you out.
―He knows Snow is not canceling the games. He's saving you.
―I do not need him to save me. I do not want him to save me. If I have come all this way, it is to save him.
Johanna smiled, mocking you. ―Well, he has gone ahead of you.
―What's going on? ―Peeta appeared and Effie jumped on his neck to fix the white suit he was wearing.
―She's pregnant. ―Johanna answered him.
―I'm not.
―Congratulations. ―The boy from District 12 told you sincerely.
―¡I'm not pregnant!
Seeing that people in the audience were not calming down after Finnick's news, Caesar mumbled something in the boy's ear. Unlike the rest of the tributes who had already been interviewed and who remained on the stage, Finnick was sent to the back of it.
―Girl from 4, you're next. ―A man from the staff announced and grabbed your arm. Caesar was distracting the audience while they got you ready to go out.
―Get off of me. I'm not going anywhere. ―You shook your body and managed to free yourself from the grip that was eager to push you on stage. You were still face to face with Johanna who had not taken a single step backwards and waiting for Finnick.
He said goodbye to the audience and walked to where you were. He knew what was waiting for him there, an even angrier you who would not understand why he had done that. All this time moving around the Capitol and with much of your relationship on display for everyone, and you still hadn't learned how to play the real game.
―I'll go for her. I'm ready. ―Peeta offered instead of you. The man seemed satisfied and before walking Peeta to the stage, he warned you that you would go after the boy from District 12 whether you liked it or you didn't.
Finnick walked with his head down. You were no longer interested in Johanna but you were surprised by the way she and Finnick shared a look of complicity when he passed by your side. His eyes never landed on you but they did on his friend. You turned around and walked after him. Your fists were close, your jaw was tight.
You pushed him by his shoulders, now it was Finnick who seemed unbothered. You pushed him again, trying to get any reaction but instead, he continued walking as if you did not affect it. He was calmed, he did what he thought it needed to be done. People in the Capitol will have mercy on you, you will have plenty of sponsors and you will make it out alive. But you didn't want that. You wanted him to be the last one standing, you had already discussed that with Mags. The woman assured you that she'd do anything in her power to get Finnick out alive. ―Why did you do that to me?! Who gave you the right to do that?! Finnick I swear to God if you don't speak to me right now!
―Oh, now you want to talk, don't you? What happens if now I don't feel like it? Would you like that? Would you like me ignoring you like you've been doing with me for the past days?
By the way his eyes looked at you and the way he had said it, practically spitting the words in your face, you knew he had been holding it in for days. You shook your head. ―It's not the same.
―Oh but it is. Trust me. You just don't want to see it. And for your information, it was Mags. She gave me the right.―He turned around and answered your previous question. ―Oh, you didn't expect that answer? Did you think you were the only one she’s made promises to?
You clenched your jaw. You did think that. Whatever she'd promised Finnick would contradict the promises she had made to you, so she was clearly fooling one of you two. And you knew it wasn't Finnick.
―You made me look weak!
―But you're not so why do you care? Right now you have more than half of those people in the palm of your hand. You could need the stupidest thing in the arena and they would send it to you without even thinking about it. They will make you the victor.
―I didn't want that! I didn't want that and you don't even care!
―You're right, I don't.
―You fucker. ―You threw yourself against his chest, hitting him with your small hands compared to his body. He was still standing on the spot while you beat him with tears in your eyes out of anger.
―Come on come on, give him a break. ―Haymitch, who had gone backstage to be with Katniss when he saw Peeta come out on stage, tried to separate you from Finnick by grabbing you around your waist.
―Why don't you save all that anger for when we're in the arena? It'll be better.
―Finnick! ―Effie said, shocked.
―I fucking hate you. ― You mumbled. While Haymitch managed to get you away from Finnick, your hands grabbed his shirt, he wasn't going to get off that easy, not after that comment. Your body shook against District 12's mentor.
―I could really use a helping hand right now, you know? ―Haymitch struggled to hold you. Katniss and Johanna freed Finnick from your grip and he left. You tried to go after him but obviously, you couldn't do anything against three people. As you continued to fight to free yourself from his grasp, Peeta's voice sounded louder over the loudspeakers, getting your attention.
If it weren't for the baby.
You looked at Katniss and she looked at you, still trying to process what had just come out of Peeta's mouth and trying to find a way of not going into that stage and choke him to death. Now you were going to be the one who was going to hold her down.
―Well, congratulations to you two. You are going to be amazing moms if you make it out of this one alive.
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moonlight-prose · 3 months ago
Text
RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME
➛ 02. LOST IN TIME AND SPACE
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a/n: logan angst with this fic is all i've been thinking about. mainly because he's the kind of man to swallow all of his feelings until it eventually kills him. so that's super fun to work with. and that scenario is basically this entire chapter. so please root for him, but also know he's not even close to dealing with his trauma. also the x-men timeline remains convoluted as fuck, so if the past of the logan who died doesn't make sense it is what it is. this is fanfic and we're all here to fuck him.
summary: the past is a thing he couldn't ignore. yet he still tried. and when the opportunity to spend a day with you utterly alone arises, he realizes that perhaps he doesn't want to forget about what brought him here.
word count: 6.6k+
pairing: logan howlett x f!reader
warnings: not explicit, angsty as fuck, some fluff, grieving a past he can never have back, logan goes through it, kissing, he's horny, me slightly abusing my literature degree, heartache, panic attacks.
PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST
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Logan never liked when the city fell silent. He hated the city in general. It unnerved him; scratched angrily against his chest until he couldn't find the peace he strived for. The city at night was filled with small noises—bangs in the distance, shouts of drunks wasted in the streets, and people finally turning in for the night.
They reminded him of the wars, the echoey expanse of nothing. Where every sound set his teeth on edge.
The cheap leather fabric of the couch stuck to his skin as he turned. He shoved his body into a standing position—his hands curling into fists. His skin remained sticky with a thin layer of sweat which only served to incense him further. Given the apartment's shitty air system, he'd be struggling through this for most of the summer. A fact he tried his best to ignore in the hopes that the fall weather would reveal itself sooner.
With a groan, he stripped himself of the thin tank top that clung to his skin. It didn't help to ease the humidity that hung in the air. It barely helped to cool off his body. But he'd take what he could get when what he could get was so little.
Wade's snoring echoed through the thin walls as he stood there, his body begging for a bit of sleep. Even if his mind refused to shut off. Images of you played through his head on a loop. The past was shadowed in pain, memories dipped in a venom he once wished would kill him eventually. Yet seeing you yesterday—a version that remained untouched by the depravity of what already happened—launched him back into a time that never seemed to be very far behind.
"You weren't there! And they needed you."
Silver ebbed from his knuckles as he faced the window—eyes shut and chest heaving. There was no question the sweat came from the humidity in the air. The cold chill along his spine however stemmed from you.
"You're not the Wolverine Logan. You're just a disappointment."
He fought the snarl that worked its way up his throat. A heavy pounding began to form at the front of his head. A drum he couldn't escape.
"Live with that."
If he opened his eyes. If he refused to give the memories even an inch of space in his mind. He'd have caught you standing there rummaging in the kitchen. A mug of tea forgotten on the counter the second you caught a glimpse of him getting up from the couch. You tugged at your sleep shorts as you stumbled towards the window—eyes heavy with sleep that simply wouldn't come.
Most nights it was easy. Long days at work left you utterly exhausted. To a point where staying awake felt odd and incomplete.
Tonight felt like hell.
No matter how many times you tossed and turned, you couldn't get the thoughts to settle. And all of them seemed to filter their way back to the man who currently faced you—his eyes shut and fists adorned with silver claws that slowly slid their way to freedom. You nearly dropped your kettle when he tore off his shirt, revealing sweat slicked skin lit up by the streetlights outside.
If you were braver you'd ask him to come over, join you in a sleepless night. But he had yet to see you standing there and you weren't one to draw attention to yourself.
So you stood and watched as he fought with whatever must have woken him up so late in the night. You witnessed his battle and wished you could be the one helping him. Maybe then he'd finally fall asleep soundlessly. His mind clear—body free of phantom aches from injuries that still haunted him. He may heal incredibly fast, but the mind...that took far too long to piece itself back together.
Before you could turn away, back to your now cold mug of tea, his eyes opened. Fixating immediately on your form in the window.
Few people in his life were able to calm the thunderous storms he weathered in his own mind. Jean and Charles did what they could. They brought back what he once thought was lost forever. Even you attempted to ease him from what he lived through—what he endured.
But that seemed to be the one thing your variant self was unable to comprehend.
He didn't need someone to fix him. He wanted someone to see him. To understand that there was no cure for a person this broken, no easy way out when things got this bad. He stood before you as a man riddled with far too much—scars that you'd never be able to see—yet he could see no hesitation in your eyes.
Something pulled at his stomach at the sight of you in small shorts and a tank top. Your skin exposed to the city as you watched him carefully. You analyzed him in a way that didn't make him want to put up a facade. And he found he liked it when you looked at him like this; with a burning need to know more clear in your gaze.
Your eyes trailed up his stomach, lingering on the hair that dipped down into his sweats. He wanted you to be here. Or him to be there. The location didn't matter as long as he could reach out and touch you—feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm.
Minutes passed before your gaze found his face and Logan felt an itch in his body at the notion that you were fascinated by him. That even in a different universe with completely different memories, you couldn't help but be drawn to the man he was.
The horror of destroying another version of you should have made him want to turn away from the window.
Then you smiled.
A slow sleepy grin that lit up your face. You probably didn't think anything of it—simply a small offer of kindness in your shared sleepless night. Logan however swallowed it down as if you'd given him the best tasting whiskey on this planet. His chest tightened, head dazed as you stood there looking with enough reverence to kill him.
If only he could see the way your insides melted at the sight of him smiling back. The thoughts of lust and like racing through your mind the longer you stood there.
Eventually the sun would come up, you'd be called to work, and this would become a brief passing memory you'd both hold onto down the road.
Until that moment though you remained in this spot. Fighting the drowsiness for a chance to watch him a bit longer. To trace your eyes along his body and soak in the expressions that played across his weary face.
You could feel the prick of sleep in your eyes, your body dizzy as it begged for you to finally give in and crawl back into bed. Yet how could you leave him there? How could you walk away?
He seemed to catch the way you bit back a yawn and chuckled. Pressing his hand to the warm window, he nodded at you. To anyone else on the street it might look nonsensical—comical even. To you his message was loud and clear: Go to bed and I'll be here in the morning. I promise.
Reluctance yanked at your heart when he nodded again, his hand falling back to his side. Yet no matter how hard you tried to keep yourself awake—if only to steal another second of his gaze on your body—you knew it was futile. Fighting sleep never went well in the morning when coffee was your only salvation. With another smile, you waved slightly—pressing your hand to the window briefly as if to respond to his silence with some of your own.
Sleep well. I'll find you in the morning. I promise.
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Logan woke up to the blaring horn of a taxi right outside. The shout of a man bounced off the buildings, cussing about traffic and for someone to get the fuck out of his way. He groaned, turning to his side in the hopes of catching another thirty minutes. But the city was alive and thrumming with its own heart beat.
To others the echo might have been familiar—peaceful.
To Logan it was like nails being dragged along a chalkboard.
"I fuckin' hate this city," he growled, getting to his feet and snatching his tank top from where he'd left it last night.
Surprisingly the apartment rang out with a sound he had yet to experience in this place. Silence. He peeked in the bedrooms briefly, expecting to find Wade still passed out. An empty room was all that greeted him—the fucking stuffed unicorn propped up perfectly on a surprisingly made bed. There was only one reason Wade tidied up his room.
Vanessa.
She was coming by here or Wade was going with her. Either way Logan didn't want to be around to hear what came next. He'd been privy to one too many nights of Wade reconciling his differences with Vanessa and all of them ended with Logan's head beneath a pillow. That or he snuck out to wander the city at night until he finally returned to a quiet apartment.
For a brief moment he wondered if he could find you at your place; his eyes settled on the view of your window across the one way street. The lights looked off, the living room empty. And he craved to know where in this city you disappeared to during the day. Where did you work?
Would you mind if he visited you there? If he took some time to hear your voice, see your smile.
He grabbed the shitty coffee bag that was tossed on the counter. No doubt due to Wade making some this morning. The machine was old, nearly broken, but it would make do for the time being. A neon yellow sticky note was stuck to the top—the scrawl of Wade's handwriting familiar.
Good morning peanut! Coffee is hot like you. Don't call me. Don't beep me. Because you don't need to reach me today. If you do, I'm at Ness's scoring for tens all across the board. I'm talking the head—
Logan groaned, crumpling the note and tossing it on the counter. Knowing information that Wade would probably tell him anyways wasn't how he wanted to start his afternoon. The cabinet creaked as he opened it, the plain blue mug he claimed as his sat in the front.
Another yellow sticky attached to it.
OF CHAMPIONS. I knew you wouldn't finish reading the note you gorgeous Canadian/Australian bastard.
P.S. Sweet angel's number. I was told to give it to you.
P.P.S. GET. SOME. (For the both of us.)
A crude drawing of Deadpool fucking the air was scribbled in the corner. The details were far too graphic for him to look at longer than a few seconds. Logan would have tossed the entire mug in the trash, but your number enticed him to stick it to the fridge as he made coffee strong enough to make the hair stand up on his arms. He glanced at it every few minutes, tracing the numbers as he considered what this meant.
Was this you telling him in simple terms that you wanted to get to know him? That his past and whatever he buried was something you wanted to learn.
His gaze burned a hole into the yellow paper as he drank his coffee, his mind racing at the possibility of speaking to you today. Some cash was stowed in the trunk Laura dragged from the previous Logan's home. Her claim was that he deserved to have it. Since he might have understood what it meant more than she did.
From what he could tell this universe's Logan was saving up for something—the wad of cash in the bottom of the trunk remained enough for him to get by until he found a stable place to set up a home. Somewhere near the mansion that still existed. He wasn't prepared to be a part of that life again just yet, but that remained the only spot that felt like home to him.
Even in a different universe.
Snatching the note off the fridge he grabbed his flannel, boots, and enough cash to last through the day. He had no location in mind. But knowing you wanted to spend time with him became the motivator he needed to actually leave the apartment.
The city was bursting with life—sounds filling the air as if it would replace the oxygen they consumed. He did what he could to ignore it. Slipping past people with ease, his eyes fixed on the small store that sat on the corner. He debated on ordering from the cafe across the street, wondering if you liked the place. If you came here for coffee and breakfast on days off.
He made a note to ask.
Thankfully the shop wasn't crowded with people—a shitty pop song blasted over the speakers. One he knew Wade would play to piss off your next door neighbors. Whether or not you actually liked Wade's music taste never crossed his mind. Or did you go along with it? Willing to do what it took to make them suffer.
"Just this," he grunted, tossing enough cash down to cover the bill and then some.
The burner phone was small in his palm as he yanked it out of the box and flipped it on. He didn't bother with getting an actual phone. What the fuck did he need that for? But this...he could do to make you entering his life a bit easier.
Every part of him screamed to push you away—make you hate him—but for the first time in his life, Logan didn't listen.
The shop door swung shut behind him as he dug out the sticky note, punching your number in carefully to not miss a single digit. Somehow in the midst of chaos, he was able to shut off the city noise when the phone began to ring. Half of him expected you not to answer. It was the middle of the day, you were at work, and this was probably more a hindrance than anything else.
Your voice filtering through the small speaker put his worries at ease within seconds.
"Hello?"
His heart jumped as he exhaled. "I hear you gave Wade directions this morning."
"Logan?" you asked, voice louder than before. The echo of someone shushing you came through, making him smile.
"Hey Honey."
A shaky breath left your lips. Logan felt his stomach clench at the realization you liked when he called you that.
"I didn't know you had a phone," you replied, much softer than before. "Wade told me you were too old for technology."
"Don't listen to anything that mouth tells you."
You laughed, breathy and cute, and he bit back a groan at the sound. "I'm glad he was wrong."
"He normally is."
"Where are you today?" Shuffling and a door shutting caught his attention as your voice rose in volume again.
A horn went off beside him, piercing his hearing. "Standin' on the street."
"Near our places?"
Oh he liked the sound of that. "Mhm." Another soft breath reached his ears; he felt his body go warm. "Where are you today honey?"
"Work." If he could see through the call, he'd catch you smiling. How your teeth dug into your bottom lip to stop the embarrassing giggle that nearly spilled free. "Do you...um...do you want to see it?"
The words slammed into his chest like a truck. The innuendo nearly enough to make him drop to one knee here in the middle of the street. And suddenly Wade's note came back to his mind. The crude drawing flaring to life as he pictured you saying those exact words in an entirely different situation. If he was a better man his jeans wouldn't have tightened. If he was a better man he'd have ignored it altogether.
Logan wished he was a better man. You longed for him not to be.
He cleared his throat, his grip tightening around the phone. "Where?"
"New York Public Library."
Vaguely the directions came back to him from decades past. He wondered if the building sat in the same spot on this universe as his own. In a rush of words, you gave him some instruction. He agreed to be there as soon as he could.
"See you soon Logan." The excitement wasn't hard to pick from your voice. That still didn't stop him from trying.
"Wait–"
"Yes?"
He turned. "Rosemary's? You like their coffee?"
Another laugh escaped you in a breath and Logan felt the walls around his heart chip. "Love."
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Twenty minutes later you were greeting him on the side of the building with a smile he felt down to his adamantium bones. A warm coffee was pressed into your hand, a sandwich tucked safely into a small paper bag in the other. For the entire afternoon he formulated things to say to you, stories to tell. Yet all that came now was an awkward smile and a greeting that made his chest burn uncomfortably.
You thought nothing of it. Even as you led him inside and asked him about his morning. The sight of him holding coffee and wearing a grin was enough for you to lose it a little. The breath knocking from your lungs, warmth spilling into your stomach.
"I didn't know what you wanted–"
Taking another sip, you grinned at the glimpse of red that dusted the tips of his ears. "I don't mind what you got."
A stain of soft pink remained on the cup; Logan's eyes attached to it within seconds. You could see the way his pupils dilated slightly—his throat bobbing at the sight of something so small and delicate. That didn't help the way your heart flipped whenever he was near. As if he'd taken control of all your emotions—all the baseline wants that you could normally ignore.
"What do you do here?" he rasped, focusing on the way you watched him. Though the glaze of sleep was gone from your eyes, the way you analyzed him still remained.
"Archives."
Unlocking another door, you led him down a flight of stairs. The elevator would have been the easier route, but he didn't possess a badge nor a library card. You were pretty sure he wouldn't have gotten one either way. So sneaking him in was the way to go until you could convince him otherwise. What you didn't know was that you could have asked anything of him—anything you wanted—and he'd agree without hesitation.
He followed close behind, unwilling to let you get a few feet away. As if he was drawn to you in ways that didn't seem possible.
"I work on making sure things are properly placed in the correct spot. Older books, newspapers from decades ago, stuff like that."
Humming, he watched as you opened the final door—letting him see the grand room that lay below filled with an infinite row of bookcases. Boxes that had yet to be gone through, files not placed properly, and piles of books that stacked on rows of tables. Each one contained a certain label of where they belonged.
"So a librarian?"
Laughing, you shut the door behind him with a soft click. "Kind of. I'm not working upstairs and handing out books like the actual librarians do. We hermits down in the basement prefer the term archivist."
"Hermits," he huffed. "You don't look like a hermit to me."
"Looks can be deceiving Logan."
That was a fact he knew too well. One that kept him up at night, replayed in his dreams without end. Oftentimes he wondered if he'd been the one to deceive. If his persona and reluctance to help gave others the impression that he was the man to turn to. The hero they needed. He never asked to be seen that way—never wanted it—yet when the time came...he couldn't run away from the truth.
The idea of telling you all this came to him last night as he watched you walk back to your room.
What stopped him was the image of the other you, grief stricken and horrified as he stumbled home from the bar.
"I have some questions for you." Your voice pulled him from his thoughts.
The small table in the back was free of books and you took a seat, pulling your sandwich from the paper. He took the chair across from you, his legs bumping into yours as he tried to cram them in the small space. The apology was quick to land on his tongue. Although your smile and the feel of your ankle curving around his leg killed it instantaneously.
"I'm hoping you have some answers."
He swallowed thickly, ignoring the way you shifted—your knee brushing his. "Now that depends."
"On?"
"Are they easy questions?" He grinned at the way you spoke around your mouthful of food—intrigue lighting up your eyes.
You slid half the sandwich towards him, not pretending to see the way he tried to refuse. He took a bite when your foot jammed in his calf. A pointed look crossing your face as if to say: eat because I know you haven't.
"What am I like?"
He nearly choked on the bread. "Do you mean..."
With a nod, you grabbed another bite, oblivious to the way his tongue swiped along his bottom lip. His eyes fixed on the way your teeth sunk into the meal and oil spread at the corner of your mouth. Tearing the sandwich in half would have been the better option. Biting where he mouth was seemed to be what you liked better.
His insides stirred deliciously, heat forming at the way your lashes fluttered at the taste.
"The other me," you mumbled, giving him the rest. "You said we were friends." When he didn't respond you kept going. "Wade alluded that we might have been...more than friends."
Fucking Wade Wilson.
Logan leaned back, his hand curling into fists in his lap as he once again fought the urge to take off. "He sure likes to run his goddamn mouth."
Anxiety sparked in your chest and you fell silent. Perhaps it wasn't the right time to bring it up. Or even something to bring up. Yet curiosity always ate you alive—the idea of not knowing the full truth. And when Wade briefly said Logan was still pining over a version of you that didn't exist on this Earth, you tried not to let it consume you.
You fought against your baser instincts in the hopes that one day he'd tell you himself.
Then he showed up. Offering you coffee and friendship and possibly more.
How could you ignore it then?
You knew he was watching you, could feel the burn of his eyes along the side of your face. Silence echoed loudly in the room as the old wooden bookshelves creaked and the chatter of people upstairs began to filter down below.
"I'm sorry," you uttered, doing what you could to move past whatever this was. "I shouldn't have asked. We can go look at some stuff if you want. I have newspapers from the seventies you might want to see–"
"I loved you."
You froze, head whipping around to meet his solemn gaze.
"On my Earth you were mine." With a sigh, he leaned forward. "And I fucked it all up. No I didn't just fuck it up. I ruined you."
"Logan..." you breathed. "I'm not them."
"I know." Sorrow flooded his hazel eyes—the grief playing across his face like a film you shouldn't be watching. And for the first time...you saw the man Wade spoke about. The broken version of a Logan that was found in a bar wallowing on his own world. "But I can't do that to you again. I won't."
This wasn't an omission of the truth. Nor a confession of his greatest sins. This was a promise lined with the guilt of his past. Memories of a time you'd never witness played out in his mind and he longed to show them to you.
To give you a piece of what he once had with a version of you that loathed his existence now.
But that isn't why he happened upon you on this Earth. History would remain exactly as it was. He couldn't change that. However, this—whatever he shared with you now—he could keep safe. The promise he made so long ago might finally be shown the respect he never thought to give it before.
"Come with me," you said softly, standing with a hand outstretched for him to take.
With a hesitant breath, he wrapped his calloused palm around yours and let you take the lead.
Past bookshelves and rows of boxes stacked nearly to the ceiling, you stopped at a shelf marked with words he'd seen a thousand times before. X-MEN. You tugged a box free and carried it to the table behind you—the top flipping open with ease as he caught sight of the pile of papers within. A list was taped to the side of what this might contain. Names he knew, people that might still exist on this Earth.
"This is all we know about the Logan in this universe." You pulled out a file, a picture of his variant clipped on top. He was rugged—aged.  "It's not much, but it shows a bit of his past."
"Why are you showing me this?"
"So you can see what others see."
You handed him a photo of the X-Men. Jean and Scott stood on either side of Charles. Logan was off to the side, a cigar in his mouth and a cocksure grin on his lips. He hated the man before he knew him. Always hearing how fucking wonderful he was; how great a hero he used to be.
He selfishly wanted to be everything this version of himself was.
He wanted to be the hero he could never amount to.
"What happened to 'em?"
You glanced at the image, pulling another file out. The name punched the breath from his lungs as you flipped it open. JEAN GREY: ALIAS - PHOENIX. An image of her smiling at a lecture was pulled free—her hair red and down to her waist.
"I don't know much, because well Charles Xavier never disclosed information about the X-Men lightly. But...something happened to her. From what we know...Logan was the one to kill her."
The file fell on the table, his heart twisting violently in his chest as the words flooded his mind. He killed her. He killed Jean. The woman he once loved before you came into his life. Something severed in his body, the breath in his lungs was suddenly hard to come by. But the touch of your hand on his kept him from completely falling into that dark pit he fought to climb out of.
"He–" Logan sucked in a breath and shut his eyes to the image of Jean. "He killed her?"
You nodded, silent while he processed the information. Showing this to him wasn't an act of malice—he knew that. You didn't want him to suffer. You simply wanted to prove that the Logan that once existed wasn't the greatest to have ever lived. He was simply a man suffering the plight of guilt the universe handed him.
He had his own cross to bear. His own nightmares to fight through.
In some ways...they weren't so different.
"You're not the worst Logan," you admitted, letting him lean into you. "And he wasn't the best Logan." Your hand pressed to his cheek, eyes soft and warm. "He was just a man who was offered a terrible hand in life."
Logan huffed, his forehead finding yours as he breathed in your scent. "So you're sayin' I'm just a man?"
"I'm saying that the James Howlett in this universe probably thought he was the worst Logan too."
The words shouldn't have struck him the way they did. Their truth, louder than anything in this building. But the blunt and hardened reality stared him in the fucking face, and he had no choice but to meet it's gaze. The Logan of this world wasn't perfect. He fucked up. He ruined things. Yet he found a way to fix them. Put the pieces back together in order to obtain something that resembled the image of his life.
As much as he fought to claim he wasn't anything like the Logan that once walked this Earth.
He was finding it hard to see where they differed.
"Show me somethin' happy honey," he replied gruffly, his hand finding your hip with ease. "Show me somethin' you like."
The smile you rewarded him with placed some breath back into his chest. "What like books?"
"If that's what you love."
"I don't think we have enough time."
His hold on your hip tightened. "'M here all day."
"Yeah?" Turning away from him, you dug through the box. Down to the very bottom. "They found these at what they think is his grave."
Silver flashed in his vision before you were pressing a pair of dog tags into his hand. The name WOLVERINE was etched into the metal—its cold touch practically burned the skin of his palm. For years he thought he'd never see these again. A piece of his past he couldn't bring with him.
"I thought you'd want to have them."
"They're his," he croaked.
"And you're the Wolverine. They're as much yours as they were his."
Fingers closed around them as the chains dangled from his hand, and Logan felt his heart place another bit back into the correct spot. He never believed he belonged with people. Never wanted to hurt them. Yet life continued to surprise him. The metal was familiar to his touch. Years of toying with them, of having their comfort on his chest, kept him sane at some points. It helped to remind him of who he was.
Without even realizing it...you gave that back to him.
He wanted to tell you how much this meant. How grateful he felt. But he was never good with words.
So he pressed his lips to your cheek and let them linger there as heat pulsed in your body. The race of your heart made him grin. Simply knowing you liked him hiked up his ego in ways he didn't need at a time like this. But like the Logan that came before...he was a sucker when it came to resisting the aspect of love.
"Show me around bub."
You slid your hand into his, your lips nearly brushing as you turned to catch his gaze. "Okay."
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"Why work there?"
The city at night exuded a different kind of energy that you frequently craved during the day. A fun lightness that normally hit when the clock struck six p.m. and people were finally out of work. You were allowed to leave earlier than expected due to a birthday gathering of coworkers going on downtown.
An invitation was offered. Until they saw Logan standing behind you and your plans for the night became clear.
"I love history." He offered to walk you home. You accepted on the single condition that he'd stay for dinner. "How humanity went from one thing to the next and so on."
He scoffed and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you out of the way of someone barreling by. "You don't have to explain that part to me bub. You're lookin' at a man who lived it."
"Did you?" The look you gave him had the feelings of want he pushed down earlier rearing their head. "Actually live through it?"
"I was born in 1832."
With a gasp, you clutched his arm. "Were you really?" you exclaimed. "That means you saw so much of history. Things we might not have written down."
And suddenly within moments...there you were from his world. Bright and beautiful and in love with the past. At first he believed it was due to your abilities; now he understood that's just who you were deep down. Always in love with what you couldn't fully figure out—the past you could see if you managed to travel back far enough.
"You have to let me pick your brain for facts."
He tugged you closer, stopping off to the side of the busy street, until you were stuck in his hold with nowhere to look but up at him. "Picking my brain ain't gonna be fun honey."
Your eyes were wide, lips parted slightly. "I disagree."
"You forget. Different universe. The history I know might be different from the one you know."
No matter how hard you tried, you could never hide the disappointment that flooded your eyes. "I'm sure it's not that different."
"Hm." He pressed a thumb to the top of your cheekbone, struck by how soft your skin felt beneath his. "Why don't you tell me yours. And then maybe I'll tell you mine."
The double entendre was layered in the lust that clouded his vision—the need that burned in his stomach. Logan hoped you understood it. Could see how much he ached for you. How you affected him since he first caught a glimpse of you yesterday. And seeing your pupils dilate, your chest heaving slightly, made his swell with pride. Saliva filled his mouth at the thought of one day getting a taste of you, but the sound of a horn going off behind him shattered the moment.
You stepped back with a deep inhale, your hand still in his. Which only served to prove Logan's point.
He fucking hated the city.
"Dinner?" you breathed, voice raspy with that feeling you tried to fight against.
Logan managed to turn you inside out. Pulling exactly where he needed to expose your heart. That alone should have terrified you. Yet the thrill of knowing him, of seeing where this might lead, kept you enamored and wanting for more.
"Lead the way."
What plans you created and meal you planned to order were lost the second you ascended the stairs to your apartment and stood in front of your door. The silence of the building was deafening compared to the noise outside. So much so that every breath you took echoed loud against the shitty yellow stained walls. Logan could hear the thump of your heart as it rammed within your chest. Quickening the closer he stepped towards you.
You turned, your back to the door and eyes dazed—unfocused. "I can order something."
His nostrils flared as your familiar scent began to deepen, mix with the arousal that seeped through your body. "That could work."
"What do you like to eat?"
The smile he gave you could only be described as canine. Near feral. "Dangerous question honey."
"What do you–" Shock flashed in your eyes, heat spilling into your face as the words finally processed. "Oh."
Logan wasn't hungry in a way that might seem normal to you. He didn't want to taste you, he wanted to devour. To feel you in ways that would scare you shitless. He craved you potently—viscerally. And perhaps it would scare you off.
Although something told him it wouldn't.
Silence no longer felt all consuming and horrid when he took one more step, crowding you against your door. You should have kept the conversation going. Laughed it off with a flippant smile and an offer of real food. Though neither of you could give a shit about dinner. That fact became evident the second he cupped the back of your neck and slotted his lips against yours.
A moan of surprise tore from your throat and Logan let out a growl to match. He kissed you fervently. Lips pressed hard and hot against yours, tongue sliding along your teeth, and somehow it never felt like enough. He'd dreamed of this for years. For the taste of you again, the gentle grip of your hands that dug into his hair and pulled.
That alone sent a groan echoing down the hallway, his body colliding with yours as your back hit the door. Your teeth found his bottom lip while his hands slid down to your ass, gripping and tugging until you could feel the prominent bulge through the denim of his jeans.
"Logan," you gasped, your tongue meeting his with another sharp tug on hair.
He slammed a hand against the door beside your head, his hips rutting down as you met the movement with one of your own. You wanted to drag him inside. Needed to feel his bare skin on yours. But something pulled tight against your chest as he stuttered into the kiss. The unfamiliar sound of his claws sliding out and puncturing the wood of your door made you jump.
"Sorry," he muttered, sliding his lips down your throat—teeth nipping the vein. "Happens."
"You owe me a door." You sounded breathless.
He brought his lips back to yours with a fury you'd never experienced before. "I'll buy you a new one." Your hips dragged along his, nails digging into the hot skin on the back of his neck. "I’ll fuckin’ make you one," he snarled.
The thought of someone passing by, seeing you nearly held up against your door by a man who's claws were embedded in it, was laughable. Yet you couldn't stop wondering what would happen if you let this go further. If you allowed him to take you right here out in the open.
Logan could smell the way you dripped for him and it drove him fucking insane. His body begged him to keep going. To slam open the door and bury himself in you right there on your kitchen floor. The way you whined into his mouth, rubbing yourself along his crotch, told him you wanted the same.
And he might have done just that.
If they hadn't started.
They're dead because of you!
Memories flashed in his mind with a rage unlike the past few times. Your face, tear stained and rageful. The way you used your powers against him. Tried to kill him for what happened. It all came rushing back with a lungful of air that burned.
I hate you!
"Logan?" You pulled back slightly, hands cupping his face with enough care he could feel the sting of tears start to build. "Are you okay?"
It should've been you that died Logan. Not them.
He sucked in a breath, ripping himself away from and stumbling a few steps back. Fighting against the past wasn't new to him. He'd been broken by it before. But now he couldn't even enjoy the sight of you with swollen lips and ruffled clothes, because all he saw when he closed his eyes was the other you.
The one he broke.
"I'm fine." His voice was raspy as he choked out the words.
A need to help him rang through your body and Logan could see it. He knew how badly you wanted to come to him—to hold him. This simply wasn't your battle to fight. He refused to change that in any way.
Standing up straight, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. An apology for the actions he was about to take.
He only hoped you wouldn't hate him for it afterwards.
"We'll do dinner another night, honey."
"Logan–"
"Goodnight." Walking away from you felt as if he'd ripped a hole in his chest with an adamantium bullet. One that wouldn't heal like before.
The dog tags were now wrapped around his neck, choking him like a collar he couldn't free himself from. A reminder that even the Logan of this world was unable to stop himself from destroying the one he loved. That was the plight they carried.
Their greatest grief. The one thing they had in common.
This...he could accept.
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jjkamochoso · 4 months ago
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Catching Fire, Catching Feelings, Catch These Hands
Fluff
Kyojuro Rengoku x f!reader
When Kyojuro finds a man bothering you, he's quick to take action.
Warnings: harassment from a stranger
As a high ranking demon slayer, you rarely had downtime so you decided to make the most of it by attending a market while you stayed in your hometown for a few days. You figured it would be wisest to leave your sword at home since they weren't welcome in open spaces and you'd rather not spend the next month in jail for brandishing a weapon in public. You felt bare without it but knew you'd be safe for the time being--it was daytime and you hadn't heard of any demon sightings in the area. Embracing the fact that you were actually able to wear something other than your uniform for once, you set out to get lost among the hordes of people, food, and material items. As you paid for pancakes from a food stall, you spotted bright orange and yellow hair in the distance. There was no way that was Kyojuro, right? He would've told you he was here!
But if he was here, you definitely shouldn't have left home without your sword.
You raced in between the crowd, eager to catch up to your dear friend. Though you weren't a Hashira, you still caught the group's attention as an accomplished Kinoe and found yourself working on missions with them from time to time. You got along with all of them but you were exceptionally close with Kyojuro. He was passionate, kind, and an absolute joy to be around. He was also extremely handsome, but he didn't need to know you'd been harboring a crush on him for a long time.
"Rengoku? Rengoku!"
Your yelling finally caught his attention as you ran up behind him and he turned around, a satisfied smile resting on his lips. When he saw it was you calling his name, the smile grew even wider.
"Y/n! It's always a pleasure to see a friendly face, especially if it's yours!" replied Kyojuro, bowing his head slightly in greeting.
"Same to you. I wasn't expecting to see you here," you said. "Is something the matter?"
"There's been a large increase in demon attacks in this area!" he shouted, earning a few wary glances from passersby. "I'm here to exterminate them!"
"To think I hadn't heard of that at all," you muttered, confusion apparent in the way you knit your brows. "If you need help later tonight, I'll gladly provide backup!"
"That would be fantastic! Thank you, dear friend!"
"Of course," you answered. "Were you exploring this market for work or for fun?"
"For fun! Care to join me in trying these... whatever these are?"
Kyojuro was pointing at a sign that read "Croquettes." Neither of you knew what they were but you were both foodies so you excitedly waited your turn to buy some. Food in hand, you found a place to sit and eat, happy to catch up with each other over snacks. He handed you a croquette as you passed a pancake his way.
"Tasty! You chose a wonderful dish to try," Kyojuro complimented, his mouth full.
"As did you, Rengoku. These are very yummy."
"Please, we're friends, are we not? Call me Kyojuro."
You stopped your chewing in surprise. "Oh! Well, alright then, Kyojuro."
You loved the way his name so easily rolled off your tongue, like it had always been yours to speak. You two fell into conversation about what you had been up to, what he and the other Hashira were up to, and how both of your families were. When your stomachs were full, you continued your jaunt around the market, Kyojuro being a superb shopping companion. You were currently stopped at a stall that sold ornamental hair clips and your attention was completely absorbed by the glittering jewels and vibrant flowers, so much so that when Kyojuro spoke up, you jumped.
"Excuse me for a moment. There's something at that previous stall I would like to buy for Senjuro," he explained, giving you a courteous nod as he left your side for the first time that morning. You smiled to yourself, resuming your browsing. He was always so sweet and considerate and you loved how he never stopped looking out for his adorable little brother. As your mind pondered all the things you admired about the handsome demon slayer, your eyes fell on the most gorgeous hair clip you'd ever seen and you picked it up, carefully inspecting it.
"That's a nice one, isn't it?"
You jumped for the second time in less than a minute, this time due to a stranger's voice in your ear. There was a man standing next to you, much too close for comfort, wearing a grin that made your skin crawl. You didn't want any trouble so you tried to keep the situation as relaxed as possible.
"Yes, it's very beautiful."
"It's not as beautiful as you."
Um, ew.
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Who did this creep think he was?
"I'm flattered, sir," you said, placing the clip back on the table, ready to make your escape, "but I must be going now."
You turned around, eager to find Kyojuro, but before you could get too far, you were stopped by the rough clutching of your wrist by the stranger.
"Hey, where you going? I'm not finished talking with you. I don't even have a pretty name for the pretty face."
You were enraged and wanted to teach this guy a lesson for having such repulsive manners. You instinctively reached for your hip but your hand felt nothing--your sword was at home, discarded on the floor where you'd left it earlier that morning. You cringed internally at your stupidity. Why, of all days, did you decide to be an upstanding citizen and leave your weapon at home? The next thing that crossed your mind was breaking his hand, which you were about to do before Kyojuro was by your side once more.
"If you continue touching my friend, I will not hesitate to cut off your hand!" Kyojuro exclaimed, his voice never losing its trademark cheeriness as he stared the stranger down.
"Yeah, right," the man sneered, "with what weapon-oh."
He spied the sword sitting neatly on Kyojuro's hip, the Flame Hashira's fingers ghosting the top of the handle to show he wasn't messing around. The unwelcome intruder immediately dropped your wrist and backed away, sputtering apologies before practically running from the scene. Kyojuro was no longer smiling as he assessed the aftermath of the situation.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice lower than usual. You nodded, trying to calm the blood that was boiling in your veins.
"I'm glad I already ate or that would've ruined my appetite," you seethed. "I just wanted a hair clip. Had I known that man was going to bother me, I wouldn't have stayed over there."
You sucked in a breath as your anger left you, leaving behind a feeling of unease akin to being prey stalked by a predator. "I would like to go home now. Kyojuro, would you mind escorting me? I know I could easily beat that man in hand to hand combat but I'm afraid I just don't feel as safe without my sword."
Kyojuro looked upon you with sadness contorting his features. "Are you sure you want to leave without the hair clip you were so fond of? We can continue browsing the market, I promise not to leave your side again. I will not hesitate to protect you from all threats, human or otherwise, today and all other days."
He sounded so earnest in his endeavor to keep you safe that the idea of you leaving the market early became unfathomable. Also, hearing those words from the man you were falling for left your heart throbbing in your chest.
"Thank you," you said, looking deep into his red and yellow eyes that were practically glowing in the sunlight, "you're consistently there for me and I never know how to return the favor."
He let out a hearty laugh. "Nonsense! Having someone like you in my life is favor enough! Your unshakable character and kind demeanor are incredible. You're a great listener and you give valuable advice. Every day I am thankful that I know you!"
You felt warmth flood into your cheeks at his praise, feeling bashful from his compliments. He just beamed at you, not at all helping to rid you of the giddiness you were feeling.
"Come," he said, offering his arm for you to hold. "I would like for you to show me the hair decoration that has captured your attention."
You enthusiastically locked your wrist around his elbow and led him over to the stall.
"This is the one," you said, picking it up.
"May I?" Kyojuro asked softly, gesturing to the ornament.
"Of course," you accepted, and he plucked the piece from your hand. He tenderly brushed back the hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. He then placed the hair clip on the side of your head, his fingers gingerly pushing it into place so it wouldn't budge. When he was finished, he didn't take his eyes off you-- his expression held such soft fondness that it was impossible to look away from his magnetic gaze.
"You look beautiful," he murmured. It wasn't the first time you'd heard that today, but it was the only time it mattered. You were so entranced by him that you didn't notice him paying for the clip until it was too late, the money already taken by the vendor.
"Please, let me pay you back," you pleaded as you walked away from the crowded market, finding solace in a quiet garden not too far from there.
"No way!"
"Kyojuro Rengoku!"
"Never!"
"Why not? You must tell me," you demanded.
"Because I want to show you that I..." He hesitated and you noticed that he was starting to blush, his cheeks almost the same color as the tips of his hair. "I want to show you that I can take care of you. In matters of both finances and safety."
You cocked your head. "Wait, why would you..."
All of a sudden, it dawned on you. Was he trying to court you right now?
He noticed you attempting to put the pieces together so he explained further. "Seeing that man disrespect you... I would have helped any woman in that situation but at that moment I knew that I couldn't bear to see another man lay his hands on you."
The Flame Hashira inched forward to be slightly closer to you, his haori swishing in the breeze. "Y/n, I have fallen for you and I wish to be by your side as not just a friend, but as a lover. A husband. If you'll have me."
"Oh, Kyojuro!" You threw yourself into his arms. He stumbled back at the unexpected movement but quickly grounded himself, hugging you tightly.
"I would be honored to marry you," you said, unable to contain your wide smile and thrilled beyond belief that he felt the same way about you that you did for him all this time.
"Wonderful! I am the luckiest man to be able to call you my wife!" he exclaimed.
"So tonight will be our first mission as a couple, then?"
"That is correct!"
You snickered. "Maybe we can defeat the demons with the power of love."
"Hah! My darling y/n, you sound like Mitsuri!"
That was the best compliment you'd received all day.
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bnhaobssesed · 2 months ago
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Just thinking about newlyprohero!Bakugo and cheeky!reader
He never liked parties that much. All those gatherings of people he sometimes barely knew. Most of them drunk by the end of the night. And his friends were these kind of people.
He hated to receive a drunk call from Kaminari to pick them up at one am. So one when he and Kirishima proposed for him to go yet again, he just agreed.
So there he was in a corner of the club, sitting at a table with the bakusquad. His arms were crossed while he sipped his drink and eyed up all his gatherings. People shouting, swerving through the crowd, downing drinks, swaying to the rythme. He rolled his eyes and watched carefully as Denki tried to whoo two swedish girls. Key word : tried. he could smell his alcohol level from here and it made his eyes twitch slightly.
"Hey bakubro, you ok ?" kirishima shouted from over the sound of the deafening mudic. "We shouldn't be here. The media is already all over our asses ever since we announced the launching of our agency. I don't want to ruin my reputation as a hero." Katsuki grumbled. Kiri sighed, he had Mina on his lap who was smirking at Katsuki's annoyed posture. "Oh come on you big dummy. Live a little. We're graduates, building our agency and you're being over there sulking like an idiot."
"Who are you calling an idiot ?!" His hands popped little explosions. Kiri placed a calming hand on his best friend shoulder, slighlty pushing him back in his seat. "Hey, stop you two. But you know she's right dude. I know our starting carriers are being watched a lot. But maybe it's time for you to let go... like, find a girlfriend ? You used to tell us you were too busy with hero studies. Now's the occasion."
"Right now isn't the right time, Ei." he glared at his friend who just raised his hands in defense. "I'm just saying ! it might make you lose up a little. Look at Denki, he seems fine." Katsuki rolled his eyes at the sight of the other blond, slouched in front of them as he had both girls on his side.
"Is Kacchan afraid he'll never have his first kiss ?" Kaminari boastly mocked while his little guests seemed more and more interested in Katsuki. One of them even slipped away and sat next to Katsuki. A little two close to his taste. He huffed in annoyance and got up, leaving her dejected.
"Hey ! We're you going ?" Kirishima called as he watched his friend walk away. "Away from here, and getting dunce face some water." was the last thing he grumbled. They all looked accusingly towards Denki. "What ? Not my fault he can't live a little." Sero slapped the back of his head. "You're really an idiot sometimes."
Katsuki reached the bar and ask for something who will sober up his friend quickly. While he waited for the bartender to be over with some other costumer, he leaned against the bar, thinking about what they said. It's true he never dated anyone during UA, or in middle school for that matter. He thought it was a waste of time. But what they said troubled him. And even if Denki meant it as a joke, he was right. Katsuki never kissed anyone. Even now that he was 20.
And that made him feel uneasy. He was late compared to young adults of his age. After all he saw half of his friends kiss someone like it was a routine while it was a step he had yet to take. Even Deku with his undying shyness managed to start to date Uraraka the following year after graduation. So what was missing ?
Was he truly scared ? Yes, he was because it didn't go with his character. Dynamight, never felt the touch of a woman ? What a pity. To him it sounded so lame.
Then the anger came. Who were they to think he couldn't kiss a girl. He was going to prove them wrong and kiss one. Tonight. He scanned the dancefloor and was met with disappointement. Not because the girls weren't pretty. But because of the gut feeling that told him he shouldn't spend his first kiss away with someone he barely knew. He wanted it to be as special as he was told and read about. Though he’ll never say it out loud.
His train of thoughts got interrupted as the bartender was heading his way. But before he could even speak, a hand grabbed his arm. He tried to protest, thinking it was one of his friends but he was met with you. You seemed breathless and your cheeks were red. You were flush against him, your chest slightly moving out of your top as your half lided eyes met his. “Hey, care to be my man for five seconds ?” You don’t wait for his answer before crashing your lips against his.
The kiss was good, almost too good. It was messy but seemed perfect. That kind of perfect you only find in Christmas movies when the girl realizes she loved the hometown farm guy more than her business man boyfriend. It was electrifying. And for a second Katsuki wondered why he had never done that in his entire 20 years of existence.
All his hesitation vanished and his lips started to move against yours. He can feel you smile a little, after all he was still tense and inexperienced. But he was kissing you back. Like a shy and awkward 16 year old but still. You bit his lips and he just groaned in response, accidentally leaving entrance for your tongue to slip in his mouth. He was completely under your spell. And he wasn’t going to do anything about it.
He could feel the slight liquor off of your tongue grazing his tenderly, as if careful not to scare him off. He didn’t like alcohol that much but right now it was addictive. He couldn’t get enough. He groaned against your mouth, completely surrendering to you. After what felt an eternity too short, you pulled away, a string of saliva still connecting your lips.
You eyed up where the creep that had been harassing you half the night was supposed to be. You didn’t see him anywhere. You sighed in relief but remembered you just kissed a poor random guy you had grabbed as a dissuasion. Which of who seemed so sweetly flustered at the moment.
“Your lips aren’t too bad, firecracker.” You said as you turned back to him and sent him a wink. He was left stunned. You were one cheeky little minx. “Firecracker-what?” He babbled through confusion, his lips still tingly from the kiss. You chuckled and you put a hand on his chest. You could feel how his heart was racing. How cute. “I have to go, but thanks for the kiss firecracker.” You trailed off as you walked past him, your hand making a suggestive lingering trail in his chest.
He was left stunned. And a few seconds later, realization came back. He just had his first kiss. With a stranger. One hell of a kiss at that. But he didn’t even know your name. He turned around and tried calling out to you but you had already disappeared through the crowd.
He stumbled back, the scene going through his head like a broken record. What just happened… Without noticing he strode his way back to where his friends still were.
"Hey, where's my drink?" Denki teased and he had to wait for a few seconds before Katsuki go tout of his daze. "Huh ? Oh they didn't make any drinks for idiots." usually his tone would be snarkier, which made his friend confused. "Hey, you okay man ?" Kirishima asked as his friend let himself fall in the seat beside him with a sigh. "Yeah yeah..."
"Oh my- is that...lipgloss ?” Mina interjected, grabbing the attention of everyone. They eyed up their friend who had a reddish trail all over his lips. He tried to wipe the evidence, to no avail, his cheeks speeding in a light reddish hue. Suddenly he was assaulted by questions. Did you make out ? You know her ? Is that why you disappeared? How did that happen ? Was she hot ? How ? When ? What ??? He was about to blast them in annoyance when he caught a glimpse of you. He couldn’t let you slip away this time. He hurriedly got back up and tried to follow you, under the confused protests of his friends.
He tried pushing through the crowd, barely excusing himself as he tried to grab you attention. He was about to reach you when a movement of crowd brought him away from your oblivious face. He tried to make them move, being blocked as most of them here danced. It wasn’t easy to be big Dynamight. He tried swerving through the people but couldn’t see you anymore. He scanned the room lighten with lights of every vibrant colors and caught a glimpse of the emergency exit closing. With difficulty he reached it and was met with the cold air of the midnight streets. He looked around and saw you. You were about to enter your taxi.
He strode in your direction. “Hey !” He shouted, grabbing your attention as you looked up in surprise. You smirked when you noticed who was heading your way. You just winked at him and got in your taxi, it leaving seconds after.
“Damnit!” He watched as the taxi disappeared around the corner. How did he manage to loose for the third time in one night…
He just wanted a name. A name on the girl who stole his first true act of love. The one who is feared, waited, fantasied, depicted in all languages and every timelines. That bond who now was tied to you and for some unknown reason made him drawn to you like a magnet.
He licks his lips, the strawberry taste of your lipgloss giving him one reminder of the kiss you shared. The sole proof that it was not a fantasy his brain had built.
But one thing he knows, he must absolutely find out who you are. One way or another…
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