#you want angst i'll give you angst
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crabsnpersimmons · 10 months ago
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This one goes out to all the slow burn enjoyers, the dense Y/Ns, and the soft robo jesters that suffer in silence!
Inspired by @bamsara's “Solar Lunacy” fic.
If you feel like reading my ramblings and want to experience more heartbreak for fictional jester blorbos, check under the cut where I detail all the planning behind the frames!
so i heard this song for the first time in a while and the opening lyrics immediately made me think of moon, so i was daydreaming some scenes and then i decided to thumbnail some ideas:
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and it all went downhill from there as everything became a metaphor and a parallel to each other, which i will now go into detail on!
you thought the animatic itself was sad?
*writing muse laughs maniacally* IT'S ALL A METAPHOR
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Frame 1. "turn down the lights" We start with a back view on Moon. The lights are out, the Moon is out, but we do not see his face. The music and the greyscale atmosphere are enough to establish the weight of the moment and the weight on Moon’s mind.
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Frame 2. "turn down the bed" We cut to a shot of Moon's body, kneeling on the ground of the daycare, like a padded cell. Moon’s hands are twitching with the effects of the glitch, with purple sparks coming from his hands. We still do not see his face.
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Frame 3. "turn down these voices inside my head" Cut to an extreme close up on the dark half of Moon’s face. Now we see his face, but only a portion of it. His left eye is wide open, red and glitching out. The voices in his head can refer to the glitch but also his repressed feelings. Or maybe it could be Sun's voice in their shared headspace.
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Frame 4. "lay down with me" Y/N's hand enters the frame from the upper right corner, lowering down to meet Moon where he kneels on the ground. Only a corner of Moon's face appears on the bottom left corner of the frame, his starry nightcap beginning to cover his glitched left eye.
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Frame 5. "tell me no lies" An full shot of Moon on the floor and Y/N standing in front of him with their hand stretched towards him. A light spills out from behind Y/N, creating a boundary between them.
Now we see more of Moon. It is only when Y/N enters the frame—enters his world—that Moon’s body is shown in its entirely. When Y/N is here, he is no longer fragmented. He is whole.
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Frame 6. "just hold me close" pspspspsps Playfully, Moon extends his own hand, beckoning Y/N to come closer, to join him. His right hand crossed over his body as he uses the playful gesture to hide his true feelings—to put distance between him and Y/N. His hat continues to cover his glitching left eye. He doesn’t want to worry Y/N.
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Frame 7. "don't patronize" In response, Y/N’s hand pats Moon on the head, returning his playfulness. Moon looks surprised by the action. Moon, notably, does not lower his hand—perhaps he has forgotten it or perhaps his invitation is still open.
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Frames 8-9. "don't patronize me" Moon rotates his faceplate so Y/N’s hand is touching the side of his faceplate, a more intimate gesture than a head pat. However, his hat is in the way. At this angle, his starry nightcap fully covers his glitchy eye and the dark side of his face, hiding his defect and acting as a veil between him and Y/N. A self-imposed boundary. So close, yet thinly separated. It's better this way. It's safer this way.
The lyrics are broken up by Y/N's arm, both to illustrate how the song is sung ("patronize" is drawn out and "me" is briefly added in before the chorus starts) but also to show how Y/N interrupts Moon's resolve, highlighting the irony between the visuals and the lyrics. Demanding not to be patronized, yet Moon happily accepts this play at intimacy. Don't patronize me, I am weak for it.
This is also the only instance where the red light of Moon's eyes glow and tint the surfaces around it. Visually, it makes it look like Moon is blushing (heavily inspired by @restinsodaroni's art). But also, in this moment of honesty, Moon's intrinsic light spills out, colouring the greyscale world. In this brief moment of honesty, Moon touches the world with his own colours, his own light.
(and this is also where i forgot to clean up the shading on Y/N's arm, but it's okay it doesn't need to be perfect it simply needs to be. And Moon will still love Y/N even if they are a continuity error.)
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Frame 10. "'cause I can't make you love me if you don't" A parallel to a frame 4, Y/N retrieves their hand away and immediately Moon is reduced to the corner of his faceplate in the frame. Only now his glitched eye is fully covered by his hat.
The lyrics here (and in the next frame) in particular grow lighter to emphasize Moon's diminishing resolve and agency.
From here on out, the lyrics here are broken up, carrying on this theme of fragmentation. Y/N is pulling away, Moon is breaking up, the words are breaking up. Everything is coming apart.
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Frame 11. "you can't make your heart feel something it won't" Y/N turns to leave. The lyrics, broken up as before, highlight the irony of the situation. Y/N, a human, can’t feel something they simply don’t feel. Whereas, Moon, the machine, feels something his code never intended him to feel.
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Frame 12. "here in the dark in these final hours" Another full shot that parallels frame 5, as Y/N steps towards the light and Moon leans forward into the space Y/N once occupied. Y/N is leaving—that which makes him whole is leaving. And he is only capable of making it to the boundary where the light cuts into the darkness. The "final hours" suggest it might be the end of Y/N’s shift, or perhaps this scene takes place right before the glitch takes over—the final hours that Y/N has with the true Moon. Either way, time is running out—and only Moon knows it.
There is a contrasting display of body language here. Moon is on the floor leaning towards Y/N with his hand still left out. Whereas Y/N is turned away, walking away, and has already slipped their hand away and into their pocket. Y/N is closed off while Moon is limply open. Y/N is actively moving while Moon is on the floor, waiting, hoping, for that which he lacks the agency to reach for himself.
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Frame 13. "I will lay down my heart" A close up on Moon’s hand, rising up again, perhaps to beckon Y/N back once more. This is a slight parallel to Y/N's hand reaching out to Moon. While Y/N can freely reach out and touch Moon, Moon cannot. He can't enter the light and more importantly he can't risk potentially harming his relationship with Y/N—be it through the glitch or by his feelings. He can only lay down his heart—put aside his feelings or hope that someone will pick up his pieces and make him whole.
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Frame 14. "and I'll feel the power" Still on a close up on Moon’s hand, now clenched in slightly. This initially was going to have the glitch effects. However, I felt it more meaningful for it to be left without. Leave it up for interpretation why Moon pauses his hand. What is the power that he alone feels and stays his hand?
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Frame 15. "but you won't, no, you won't" A parallel to frame 1, a view of on Moon's back with his hand stretched out towards the light, and Y/N walking into the light spilling through the open daycare door.
The placement of the lyrics suggest two different “you won’t”—Y/N who won’t realize Moon’s feelings, and Moon who won’t dare speak them into reality.
Another note on the parallel to frame 1, this time we also see Y/N's back, but it is notably different from our view of Moon's back. With Moon, we literally see inside him through the hole for his loop. However, Y/N is shrouded in shadow, just a solid, obscure silhouette against the bright light of a world Moon—and Sun for that matter—are closed off from. We don’t see into Y/N, just as the Daycare Attendant doesn't have any vantage point of Y/N's life beyond their time at the PizzaPlex. (The unfortunate reality of a being a character made for the purpose of being a vessel for the reader.)
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Frame 16. "'cause I can't make you love me" We finally cut to face Moon head-on, frozen in place with his hand stretched out, unable to cross the boundary into the light. His eyes have gone dark. Where we began by seeing bits and parts of Moon, and never seeing his full face—now we, the viewer, see the full Moon, open and vulnerable—unbeknownst to Y/N.
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Frame 17. "if you don't" But in the dark, behind closed doors, there is no one to perceive him—no one to receive him. The light dwindles as the daycare doors are closed. Moon stays frozen where he kneels. It is no longer the glitch that plagues him, but a far deeper dread.
But a lone streak of light peaks through the gap in the daycare doors. Perhaps that is just enough. A silver lining. A frail hope. A single, ethereal thread out of darkness and into light.
Thanks for reading and watching!
We'll be back to our regularly scheduled fun and games shortly!
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hellonerf · 1 month ago
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unusual face post where i don't bring up caname marriage. all of their gangstalia childhood photos have been shown! i've been very captivated by their answers
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the question is virtually the same for each of them with different wordings. here lord and owner have a goal for their future. between a distinguished admirable grown up and a welcoming hotel runner. meanwhile hero and parrain's answer are like. so vague. [(i?) can be anything] and [(be?) me] makes me laugh. what are these kids even saying? such blatant different personality dynamics. i actually don't have any coherent words i just point at a difference and go wowwww coool(keys jingling in front of me). but really. how sweet!!! the different similar answers
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xxnashiraxx · 3 months ago
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WIP Wednesday
Thank you for tagging me, @inkymoonbunny !!
Here's a WIP for Chapter 5 of With Stars to Fill My Dream, coming out this coming Sunday 8/11!
Visions of smiles, of tears, of sitting and writing and singing and strumming fill his mind. He sees her happy again in the presence of a different boy- skin and hair and eyes to match hers. They dance in gaudy, flashy outfits amid a crowd of similarly dressed people, all regalia and loud music. It’s unlike anything he’s ever heard, the musicians dressed in black and trimmed with gold, wide hats covering their heads as violins and accordions orchestrate the pretty swirls of Ofelia’s dress. Her smile is brighter than the sun. The next scene snaps into view, devoid of all the life and merriment of the previous one. She stands in black, above a hole in the ground, rain from a gray sky pelting her scalp. Her eyes are empty and rimmed in red. No trace of her former self left.
I know it's small, I'm sorry, but I gotta keep the rest under wraps!
Tagging everyone again- don't feel pressured, I'm just obsessed with you all ❤️
@ladyduellist @preciouslittlebhaalbae @sashitf @verbenaa @elinorbard @khywren
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glambots · 9 months ago
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The popular Scenario/HC for most fics is that Sun and Moon are head-over-heels for an oblivious!Reader and/or Y/N and yes, yes, that's all well and good--
But personally I'm more a fan of the inverse. You are pining so fucking hard over these robots but also completely convinced that they could never love you back because they are, in fact, robots. (And even if they could love, why would they love you? Don't kid yourself.)
Much more deliciously painful! And yet, tragically rare.
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softquietsteadylove · 8 months ago
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Lost love is sweeter when it’s finally found.
Thena meets Gil, a few months after his death, again.
Will their souls match again?
Thenamesh AU 👀
Thena's hands had never shook when facing down an enemy. She was the Warrior Eternal. She didn't have any reason to shake in the face of a fight. But if her weapons were forged of steel, she could imagine they would be rattling terribly right now.
"Thena?"
She tried to keep her breathing under control, to keep her blade level at the approaching target. She set her lips in a thin line, "close enough."
His face flinched, like she'd hurt him. "Thena, it's me."
It wasn't. It wasn't. It wasn't. It wasn't him. How many times had she imagined this? How many times had her brain whispered sweet things to her like this? The entire reason she had chosen to leave the planet was because that house - that little, solitary house back in Australia - was full of whispers.
Full of visions of Gilgamesh, alive and well, standing at the sink and inviting her to taste his latest creation. He would smile at her, the apples of his cheeks turning up the corners of his eyes. The sun would him just so and emphasize the softness his handsome face possessed.
The Gilgamesh before her put his hand to his chest. "It's me."
Thena tried to keep her eyes solidly open and in front of her. But the way he pleaded with her made her heart twist. She would not cry before the enemy. The voice of the man she loved would not bring her to her knees.
"Thena," he took another step closer. She re-gripped her weapon and he held his palms out to her. "Thena, look at me. It's Gilgamesh."
"No," she said aloud to herself, perhaps in some futile hope that her words would ground herself. That thing in the cave had said the same to her. She would not allow her mind to lure her into surrender.
His face changed as he thought. Gilgamesh never was good at hiding how he felt, or what he was thinking. He wore his heart on his sleeve. He had--he had worn his heart on his sleeve.
Because this was not him.
"Sweetheart," he changed tactic, and she tried not to make it obvious that her whole back snapped straighter. How dare he use that name for her? "It's Gil."
Gil: her Gilgamesh, love of her never ending life and partner in a world all their own. Not even their team and family knew the extent to which they had been connected. Two souls, completely alone, together, at the ends of the earth. The man she swore to love on any planet.
She knew what Mahd Wy'ry felt like. Knew its sharp, stinging pecking at her temples. Her vision would blur as her eyes flickered white. And there was none of that in this moment. This wasn't Mahd Wy'ry showing her a vision of her love. This wasn't even that thing in the cave using Gilgamesh's words.
"It's Gil," he repeated, walking closer again. He held out his palm to her, even his fingertips leaning out to her longingly. "Give me your hand."
Thena kept her stance, but the sword vanished from her grasp, dissolving into the air like sparks from a fire. Her fingers shook, reaching for him and dreading the second they would make contact.
"Easy," he spoke so directly to her, no fear, no hesitation. He spoke like he knew her. "I'm right here."
He would say that to her when she was struggling. When her head was screaming at her and the line between what was in front of her what was in the past faded. He would reach out his hand and say he was right there.
Their fingers slid together. It felt familiar. She didn't let him pull her in, but he didn't drag her. He let her decide. Her fingers fluttered against his. His hands were so much warmer and stronger. Her fingers looked diminutive embraced by his.
"It's me," he whispered as their fingers folded closed together, locking their hands pressed palm to palm.
She lifted her eyes from their bound hands to him. He looked like her Gilgamesh. He felt like her Gilgamesh. Her heart was pounding on the inside of her chest, insisting that she fold herself into his arms and collapse completely into his embrace.
If this was, in fact, her Gilgamesh.
The Warrior Eternal tilted her head. The hand felt like the right hand. His heart sounded like Gil's did. But she'd been shown things before. She could trust him no more than she could trust her own Wy'ry mind.
His face fell as she pulled her hand back to herself. His eyes still looked the same, in that warm brown that made her want to drag the sky down so he could pluck stars for his blueberry pie.
"Come," she ordered, standing aside so he could move ahead of her. She would not be turning her back to this thing yet. "The others should see you."
They would confirm if this was, in any way, her Gilgamesh.
"Okay," he smiled, doing as she asked without a second thought. He knew she was the Warrior Eternal. Walking ahead of her could have deadly consequences. But he strode in front as if they were walking home from the market back in Australia. He glanced over his shoulder, "so-"
"Eyes forward!" She pulled her Cosmic Energy to her hand again, just to poke the back of his armour pauldron. She could easily 'slip' and jab into the joints of his armour. And he knew it.
"Sorry, sorry," he chuckled. This was no laughing matter, but he was completely relaxed.
"Stop laughing."
"That just makes me wanna laugh more."
The two of them in the kitchen, her telling him to stop laughing and him clutching his belly in an attempt to do so. Two forks in a skillet of pie on the stove and light streaming in through the hole in the wall they called a window.
"Keep moving," she directed needlessly. She would act the jailer until she was certain he was any Gilgamesh, of any kind.
His hand extended back to her. He wanted to hold hers. They would walk back from the market in Australia, hand in hand, walking for hours back out to their solitude under a sun that could kill a human. She would point out lizards scuttling about and he would observe the plant life.
"You can say you dragged me back," he even suggested, still requesting her hand with his. "You're keeping me detained."
Thena glared at him until his eyes were forward again (as instructed). He knew her--knew the challenge he was presenting. If she wanted to hold his hand, then she would! She needed no excuse for it.
He grunted as she twisted his arm more into position, behind his back and at such an angle that even they would find it uncomfortable. His gait changed but he kept walking as she pushed at his wrist against his back. "Okay, yeah, this works too."
The Warrior Eternal smiled faintly to herself. She was still a Fighter, after all. She kept her grip around his wrist firm as she walked him back to the others. He certainly felt solid though. And with just the tip of her finger to slide into the valley of his palm, she affirmed that he was warm, too.
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sysig · 7 months ago
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I hope you blink before I do (Patreon)
#Doodles#SCII#Damned#ZEX#DAX#Blood#Fuck you *reinjects romance into your song about love-lost*#It's the ''I want to be the one to lay you to rest'' of it all#Or if not that then at least to be the last one suffering#See him off - make sure he goes knowing that he's not alone#I'm Fine just Don't Look at me and I'll Be Fine#Schrödinger's Fine lol - I am simultaneously Fine and Not Fine until I am observed#I simply subsist largely off of angst and then whatever small scrap of comfort that can be coaxed from there hehe#I am very mean to them considering how much I want them to be happy lol#Honestly I think what would be meaner is seeing ZEX off and then somehow DAX survives alone#Night ends just as he's about to blink out and oops you're still stuck here sorry about that <3#But I wouldn't do that to them would I?#:3c#I also think it's interesting that I started doodling this before I actually read ZEX's death - I finished it after but still!#Does he just give off gutted vibes? Canonically he's eviscerated so#And not just in the eye way - in this case it's enucleation#Did you come here for eye removal surgery puns? I don't see why you'd expect anything different *b'dm tss*#I've done way more research on eye removal than I ever expected to but now those two terms will be forever seared into my mind haha#Hhh ZEX's death was very affecting to me ;; I'll talk about it more with its accompanying doodle but really 💔#I wanted an honourable death for him - and if not that then a death where he wasn't alone - and if not that then to rest#He got one of the three ;;
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bonerot19 · 7 months ago
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lots of angst…
how many bocces of tissue do I need to prepare 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️
depends on whether or not I ever finish writing it 😪
it's called that bc it starts off with something very heavy happening to Jason (steph and jason are grabbed by black mask and he knows jason won't talk but he thinks he can make steph talk by hurting jason) and is, essentially, the bats feeling like shit and Jason wanting them to leave him alone and no one having any boundaries and Bruce assuming Jason will do something vengeful. also Roy is there but the more I learn about Roy outside of fanon, the more I hesitate to write JayRoy (but also I like iiiit)
and also Jason says: “But that’s the problem, Bruce. I keep my promises, but you never trust me. And you’re a liar, but I always believe you.”
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vanmarkus · 1 year ago
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WIP Wednesday 🧇
Tagged by and posted for the lovely @forthewolves who voted for a snippet from the jealous!Eddie fic, so here we go ✨
“I think I fucked it up somehow.” Buck admitted, trying his best to focus on Eddie's hand over his own, instead of the heavy feeling pulling his eyelids down again. “I pretty much doubt that.” Eddie shook his head kindly and Buck briefly wondered if he was only being so nice about it now, because he thought that Buck wasn't gonna make it. “I did…” Buck pressed quietly. “I must’ve… said something… he was weird after dinner.” “Weird how?” Eddie's voice started to sound a little distant and Buck suddenly thought that maybe he should hear other things too. The fire above or the walls creaking… something. He didn't hear any of it; only his own gargled breathing and Eddie's loud panting were close enough to penetrate his ears. There was a light sensation on his face and he opened his eyes. (When did he close his eyes? Oh, this wasn't good. Where was everyone?) “Hey, hey talk to me. You said he was being weird. Weird how?” Eddie brushed his fingers over Buck’s cheek and he wished, he wished so desperately that he could feel more than a ghost-touch over his numb skin. “I don’t… he was just. Distant, I guess.” Buck breathed, his upper lip sticking to his teeth with the soot and blood over it. “We kissed goodbye at the door and that was it. Didn't even wanna come in or anything…” There was a complicated expression on Eddie's face and Buck wondered if he should ask him to smile, just in case that was the last thing he was gonna see. “Maybe he just didn't wanna rush things. I’m sure he won't be like that the next time you go out.” Eddie reassured him quietly and if Buck could've moved, he would've probably shrugged. “We didn’t even set up another date.” “Don't worry. I’m sure you’ll have time to talk about that after we’ve got to the ER.” Eddie smiled at him fondly and Buck was probably delirious with blood loss, but he thought if there was one picture he could carry over to the afterlife he wanted it to be this one; Eddie with his lips pink and shiny with spit, stark against the dust covering him from head to toe, and smiling at him like he was the luckiest man on Earth, just because he got to be the one to hold Buck's hand while he was dying. Buck started chuckling at the thought, but it turned into a coughing fit. He vaguely registered the warmth of the blood trickling down his chin, leaving almost a pins and needles kind of sensation in its wake.
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missazura · 2 years ago
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bigbadmuerte​:
“No.” The word is said with a grimace, with gravity. “If you died, and you didn’t somehow manage to get someone else to pull strings for you, then you’d die. I’m not allowed to break the rules either. So don’t go testing your luck just because I’m here. I really don’t want you to die.”
“Alright, sheesh- I was simply curious is all.” She takes note of the sudden gravity of his words and shrugs. “I have a life now, you know? Friends and family to get back to. Before this I... huh.” 
She scratches her head as she quietly ponders on her past. 
“I got into a lot of trouble, because its fun- and I really didn’t know better.” 
It’s as if she could view her old self separately now, the old Azzy lying in the snow not a care in the world, getting drunk and wasted because of how worthless she felt after a horrendously failed relationship. How she spent her time eating junk food and sleeping in cardboard boxes under a bridge- how she doesn’t bother to dodge in combat as well as she could be simply because she felt deserving of getting hurt. 
“I know better now though. I’m eating better, sleeping better- keep myself clean from harm, for a while at least. It was... kinda boring, but at least my loved ones can sleep peacefully knowing that I’m okay.”  
MUERTE!!! I can't believe I haven't asked this sooner but what does Perdidita mean? It better not be something lame or I'm gonna getchu
"Oh! Right, I haven't explained that." He looks askance, as if a bit embarrassed. "It means 'little lost one.' It's usually what I call kids who have died too soon, but it seemed... fitting for you. If it bothers you I can figure something else out."
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radioisntdead · 4 months ago
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Accidentally waterboarded myself and passed out [not from the waterboarding I just hadn't slept] editing right now, fic will be uploaded in like two hours??
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lakemichigans · 2 years ago
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okay season 12 actually rocks idk why i hated it so much the first time i saw it
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fiercelywinged · 2 years ago
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Yes, hi, I apparently have a thirst for heart-wrenching angst that may or may not also involve physically hurting my muse...
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joelsgoldrush · 3 months ago
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“give me the first taste” | 10k
logan howlett x f!reader
part 2 of “GUILTY PLEASURE”
"Your hungry flirt borders intrusion / And I'm building memories on things we have not said / Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly, my love / Give me the first taste / Let it begin, heaven cannot wait forever / Darling, just start start the chase, I'll let you win." The First Taste by Fiona Apple
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SUMMARY: From the moment you first laid eyes on Logan, you knew he was a tough nut to crack. But if there’s one thing you love, it’s a challenge. As your relationship grows, you’re determined to show him that, in this universe, he can also be loved.
WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. angst. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. age-gap (reader is 25). once again wade saves the day. domestic!logan. soft dom!logan. logan calls reader “kid��. they watch (500) days of summer. oral sex (f and m receiving). fingering. thigh riding. thumb sucking. throat fucking. multiple orgasms. unprotected p in v. creampie (i would say i’m sorry but i’d be lying)
AUTHOR’S NOTE: jeez. hi guys!!! hope you’re doing alright. this is the 2nd part to “guilty pleasure.” writing for these two has been a total rollercoaster, but god was it worth it. as i always tell you, english isn’t my first language, so if you come across any mistake and you feel like letting me know, there’s no problem. thank you so much for all the support you’ve been giving my posts. i’m happy strangers out there take the time to read my silly stories :)
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A girl and a mutant walk into an apartment…
Actually, you’re still trying to come up with the rest of the joke. But one thing’s true: Logan’s about to set foot in your place.
You curse under your breath, putting both your hands to work as you struggle to open the door. “Fucking swollen wood. I hate humidity,” you mutter, glancing back at Logan, who frowns as you keep trying different maneuvers to get the door to function properly.
It’s a shitty situation overall. And having that gorgeous man practically glued to your back isn’t helping in any way. You can tell he wants to give you a hand, but you’re not having it—women in STEM or something of the sort.
“May I—” he starts, though you cut him off before he can finish.
“I’ve got this. Just need to—” you say, ramming your shoulder into the door with enough force to make it finally give away. Almost stumbling over the carpet but managing to catch yourself, you sigh in relief. Meanwhile, Logan stands still, scrutinizing you until you gesture for him to enter. “Welcome to the smallest apartment in New York City. It's nothing fancy, but it’s got everything you need for a comfortable stay on a budget. Make yourself at home!”
Logan narrows his eyes, the tiniest smirk playing on his lips before stepping inside. Each of his movements seems to be premeditated as he tosses his jacket onto the couch, surveying the room. A portrait of when you were a kid, probably six or seven years old, catches his attention. He tilts his head, picking up the picture to examine it more closely, and then flashes you a lopsided grin. “How cute.”
“Well, I’ve changed a lot,” you take the picture from his hands, returning it to the shelf where he had gotten it from. 
“Well,” he echoes, mocking your tone, “your beauty certainly hasn’t.”
His eyes bore into you as you meet his gaze. What amazes you most is that he’s being completely honest. In a heartbeat, you look away, wondering what’s gotten into you. Usually, you’re not this awkward—you’ve learned how to take compliments over the years, knowing how to smile just right, to flutter your eyelashes. To blush and giggle in command. Those were the tools that helped you to survive countless first dates—your dearest aces up your sleeve.
There’s no use denying that they remained just that: first, failed dates. You hope you never have to go back to dating apps after this.
“Are you hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving,” you say, trying to walk away from him, although he’s faster, catching your hand in his. 
“Hey,” he urges you to make eye contact with him, his voice perplexingly soft. “Is everything okay?”
You nod so vigorously that you nearly strain your neck. “I’m fine, I swear. I just never get past this point.”
Inching closer, he presses his lips together for a split second, his brows furrowing in confusion. “You lost me there.”
“Guys who come into my apartment don’t tend to call back,” you admit, a flush creeping up your face, cheeks getting hotter. “I happen to believe it’s a curse, though I’ve kissed, like, a hundred toads so far and it still won’t break.”
“So y’think you’re gonna scare me off,” he raises an eyebrow, grinning. His rough fingers become gentle as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s sweet. Should be the other way around.”
Wow. You two are a match made in heaven.
As you detach yourself from his embrace and head to the kitchen, you decide to look for something edible in the fridge, finding different trays of food from days ago, none of which look appetizing or suitable for feeding the Tin Woodman standing behind you.
All of a sudden, the unmistakable metallic sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing rings in your ears, forcing you to spin around. The image that unfolds before you is peculiar, to say the least: he’s cornering your cat against the door.
Why is he about to fight a cat?
“Please don’t kill him?” you take a step in his direction and scoop the little ball of white fur into your arms. Logan stares at both of you, eyes squinted and brows knitted. “I’m sure he’s the cutest feline you’ve ever seen. Have mercy on him.”
“I didn’t know you had a cat.”
“Earnest wasn’t aware of your existence either,” you reply, scratching along the animal’s back. He purrs beside your neck, his yellowish eyes never leaving Logan’s. “Earnest, this is Logan. He has claws just like you.”
“Don’t you dare compare me to that,” Logan warns you, retracting his claws with a sigh. You can’t help but wonder if he ever feels tranquil, at peace. “Y’know, you’ve doomed him to bad fortune with that name. Is he at least toilet trained?”
“Are you hating on The Importance of Being Earnest?” you ask, expecting a retort, though apparently the play’s title doesn’t ring a bell for him. “Oscar Wilde?”
“Who do you think you’re talkin’ to, kid?”
Now’s your time to roll your eyes, setting the cat down and letting it run away. He likes to hide in the bathroom—don’t ask why, because not even you know the answer to that. You flick your gaze up back to Logan, placing your hands on your hips. “See, you gave him trust issues.”
“He’ll survive. Don’t they have seven lives?”
This is the perfect conversation to have with someone who just ate you out thirty minutes ago: how many lives do cats have. Jesus.
At some point, Logan flops onto the couch, stretching out. You shudder as you hear him crack his neck, the popping sound getting on your nerves. He pats the empty side of the sofa, spreading his thighs until he’s almost taking up all the space. “Come here.”
Putting aside all your thoughts, you accept the invitation. You sit down, motionless, and his arm grazes the cushion behind your head, pulling you closer to him. You rest your cheek on his chest, letting out a deep sigh, one that you’ve been holding in since you got to the apartment. Is it possible that he knows you craved this? This proximity, this kind of affection. To be held—it’s been your only wish for months. He drums his fingers on your shoulder blades, then starts rubbing your back ever so lightly.
Far from dozing off, you feel alive.
It’s hard not to lose track of time and space when you find yourself immersed in the warmth he offers, and that’s when you realize how deeply you’re falling for this man. “Logan?” the mere thought of asking him what’s been on your mind terrifies you. The last thing you want is to ruin things—or whatever it is that you have. He hums, a low, heavy sound in his throat, indicating you to continue. “I have a question.”
“Ask away.”
You lift your face from his chest and look him in the eye. The city’s still alive outside, with music and chatter sneaking in through the window. Everything seems to be perfect, and you wish you could stay like this—just staring at him as if he were a painting in a museum, and you the critic who can’t stop writing articles about its beauty.
Okay, that was… weirdly specific. 
Logan tries to hide his smile as you peck his lips repeatedly. For a moment, you almost forget what you were going to ask him in the first place. But then he’s ready to listen, and you a wave of nausea washes over you.
“I know that we came here to… engage in adult practices.”
“Fucking, you mean.”
“I didn’t want to be that straightforward, but yeah,” you say, shaking your head as to rearrange your thoughts. “Would you mind if we stayed like this?” to emphasize your point, you kick your shoes off and put your legs on top of his lap. He observes the whole sequence without daring to utter a word. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to try that too. I truly do. But… right now, all I want is to cuddle,” he’s still silent, making you even more nervous. “I’m sorry. Is that okay with you?”
His whole body engulfs yours, your cheek coming to rest once again in its original position. You can feel the rhythmic beating of his heart, each breath he takes, the air he exhales dampening your nape. Logan peppers your neck with chaste kisses before pressing his lips to your temple. His voice comes out strained, partially muffled by your hair. “Who do you take me for, huh?” he’s right there, beside your ear, fucking everywhere. There isn’t a single centimeter of your exposed skin that he isn’t touching, marking as his. You don’t give him an answer, in part because you’re unsure of what to say. He takes your silence as a cue to keep talking. “Let me take you to bed.”
“I can walk on my own.”
“I know,” he mutters, standing up with you in his arms, one arm beneath your knees and the other one under your shoulders. Logan’s not used to being this cautious, this patient with someone he’s known for less than two weeks. You see it in his eyes when he lets his guard down—something that has cracked, a shell that’s been broken.
As he places you gently on top of the covers, he lingers for a moment, crouching beside the bed and searching for your lowered gaze. His fingers are warm as he tilts your chin up. “I didn’t come here just to have sex with you. That was a possibility, of course—but it’s not the main reason why I’m here,” he rasps, words accompanied by the light brush of his lips against yours for a quick, brief kiss. “I care about you. A lot. I’m fine with whatever we do as long as I get to be close to you,” he grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He then goes back to his usual bossy self, his demeanor changing. “And I don’t want to hear you apologizing for not wanting to have sex ever again. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Now you’re making jokes?”
“I can’t have serious conversations,” you confess, observing the look of pure confusion on his face. “It’s true. I once spoke at a funeral and they cut me off forty seconds into my speech.”
Logan laughs at your sudden confession, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Rising to his feet, he begins to unbutton his flannel, pausing after the first few buttons are undone, waiting for your approval. “Do you want me to stay tonight?” 
“If that’s what you want.”
“It is what I want.”
“Are you sure?”
“Don’t make me change my mind.”
His words don’t hide any real threat—that you know.
You stifle your laughter, shedding your clothes. Instead of going to the bathroom to change, you toss your work clothes carelessly to the floor, opting for an old pair of pajamas that are the complete opposite of sexy. They surely have seen better days.
Logan’s eyes trail over you, taking his time to analyze the faded lettering on your wrinkled shirt. “Keep calm and eat pizza?” he reads aloud.
“Hey. I bought it when I was seventeen.”
“You could use a new wardrobe.”
“Well, what about you?” you tease, toying with his belt. “You’re gonna sleep like this in my bed?”
“Can’t wait for me to get my shirt off, huh?” he grins, that all-too-familiar smile on his lips.
You play along, folding your arms over your chest. “You think so highly of yourself.”
Without breaking eye contact, Logan unbuckles his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles. He then shrugs off his flannel, leaving him in just his briefs and vest. You scan his body, and the room suddenly feels a hundred degrees hotter, the air between you thickening. Logan notices your reaction, chuckling. “Don’t get too excited. This is all you’re getting today.”
“I think I’ve already heard that before.”
“Kid.”
You raise your hands in surrender, showing him your palms and mouthing ’sorry’. Approaching your bed, you pull back the covers and slip into it. When you see Logan still standing there, you frown. “Where are your manners? Come here. I’m very impatient.”
He grumbles something under his breath, but he doesn’t make you wait long. He proceeds to get under the sheets beside you, occupying that side of the bed that’s always been empty. As you both settle in, facing each other, you can’t help but giggle, your contagious laugh getting to him. “What now?”
“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your index finger, a featherlight touch that has him closing his eyes. In the soft glow of the night, with the city’s distant sounds filtering in, he looks breathtaking. “I mean it.”
“Do you have an off switch?”
“I’m… not sure. Let’s find out tomorrow.”
“You need to sleep,” he pulls you onto his chest with firm but gentle hands. He intertwines his legs with yours, holding you close.
“Wait. I have a game to play.”
“It’s late.”
“Please?”
He sighs. “Okay.”
“We have to make confessions until we fall asleep.” 
“You just want to talk—that doesn’t even qualify as a game.”
“It does in this universe,” you reply, feeling his chest rumble with a chuckle as you settle more comfortably against him. “I’ll start: remember the first night you came to the bar?” he hums in acknowledgment. “It wasn’t Burger Night. We don’t serve food. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”
He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “I knew. You don’t have a kitchen down there, baby,” he falls silent, taking his time to come up with a confession of his own. “I have a fear of flying.”
“Really? You, of all people?”
“I wasn’t expecting to be judged.”
“Oh, don’t be such a crybaby,” you tease, burying your face further into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He shivers slightly where your nose touches his skin. “I like you. It’s kind of scary, and I’m sure saying something like this probably goes against the rules of dating 101, but I do. I feel safe with you, like—like this is where I’m supposed to be.”
Almost as if the pieces of the puzzle finally fit together, you think to yourself, though the words stay unspoken.
You’ve come to learn that Logan’s not a man of many words—he’s more of the “show, don’t tell” kind of guy. So when he makes you lift your face, you’re not surprised by the way he kisses you: hungrily. Passionately, like a starved man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. A soft whimper gets lost somewhere in your throat as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, languidly stroking yours.
“We didn’t brush our teeth,” you whisper against his lips, laughing when he groans in exasperation.
“You love having the final say, don’t you?”
“I’m being serious, Logan. Cavities are a real issue for me.”
“You can always get new teeth.”
“But my morning breath—”
“It’ll stink anyway, and so will mine,” he responds, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat once he settles into his ideal sleep position. “Good night.”
“Night,” you murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his neck. Despite your efforts to ignore it, being cradled like this feels incredible. You can’t believe you went twenty-five years without it.
Just as you’re about to drift off, curiosity strikes. “Can you get tattoos?”
“Bub, I was actually falling asleep.”
“Oh, okay. Sorry,” you mumble, feeling a bit sheepish.
More silence.
“Logan?”
“Hmm?”
“What was the Great Depression like?”
“Fuck me,” he mutters, his voice gruff as he shifts lightly. “It was fine. Now go to sleep.”
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And you do, but not for long. An abrupt coldness wakes you up, eyes wide open, feeling disoriented. It’s still pitch black outside, far quieter than when you first fell asleep. The clock on your nightstand reads it’s 3:17 am, though it feels like you’ve only been in bed for five minutes.
Then you see him—he’s twitching in his sleep on the far side of the bed, his painful grunts reaching your ears. Most of what he says is unintelligible, but there’s one word he keeps repeating over and over again without fail: “No.”
You don’t usually have nightmares. What’s the best way to wake someone from one? You’re still thinking when he starts mumbling again, his voice thick with distress, and now he’s throwing his arms in the air as if he were fighting off something—or someone—in his dreams.
Pressing your hands to his cheeks, you attempt to hold his face steady. He clenches his fists, his breath quickening the more he battles whatever’s haunting him. “Logan,” you whisper at first, subtly shaking his shoulders, but his eyebrows stay furrowed, deep in his nightmare. This time, you tighten your grip, fully sitting on top of him. “Logan. Logan! Wake up!”
Without warning, you’re on your back, pinned against the mattress. Logan’s straddling your hips, caging you in with his body, the weight of his adamantium skeleton pressing down. Your hands are trapped beneath his, and you watch as he clenches his jaw, teeth bared in a way that looks painful. His eyes are so dark and wild you barely recognize him, prominent veins throbbing in his neck with each labored breath he takes.
“Logan,” your own voice sounds unnatural, forced, as you do your best to bring him back to reality. “It’s me. You’re alright.”
That seems to get through him. Logan stares at you in disbelief, his eyes softening as they take in your terrified expression. He abruptly pulls away, retreating to the nearest wall. He’s gasping for air, slamming his eyes shut, his legs trembling. The only sound you can hear is his rapid breathing. You get up from the bed, taking a step in his direction, but you don’t manage to go any further since he stops you with a shout.
“Stay right there!” he’s growling, pointing his finger at you. “I’m serious. Don’t come any closer.”
“Logan…”
“Please, no!” his voice increases in pitch, not being able to meet your eyes. “Please. Just stay there.”
You comply, not wanting to upset him any further. Sitting back on your knees, you try to appear calm. A man so strong, capable of things you can’t even understand. A weapon turned against himself now stands before you, pushing you away as if his presence were poisonous. He slumps to the floor, the fabric of his vest soaked with sweat.
Once he’s fully conscious, you cautiously crawl toward him, watching his every move. On a random day, this might have been funny for both of you, but right now, there’s no room for laughter. Logan shakes his head, his shoulders tensing when you reach out to hug him, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. It takes him a couple of minutes, but eventually, his body sags against yours. For a while, neither of you speaks. You just thread your fingers through his hair, hoping the closeness will help soothe him. “Feeling better?” you whisper in the shell of his ear, and he pulls back to look you in the eye. You caress his cheek, his stubble rough against your skin. “Welcome back.”
“I’m sorry,” it’s the first thing he says, covering your hand with his. One by one, he kisses your knuckles, still shaking his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“You had a nightmare—it’s not like you could control it.”
“But I could’ve hurt you,” he says, lowering his gaze to your wrists, where his fingerprints have left their mark. “God. I’m so sorry. I have to go.”
“Wait!” you grab his arm, your mouth setting in a hard line, stopping him from leaving. “Don’t run away from me, not now. Don’t push me away, Logan.”
“I could’ve done something much worse.”
“But you didn’t. It was a nightmare, baby. You didn’t know,” you kiss his forehead, hoping to talk some sense into him. “Please, stay. Let’s try to get some more sleep.”
“What if—”
You hold his face close to yours, your noses brushing. “You won’t hurt me.” 
This time, he lets you keep him close, the roles now reversed. You can see him fighting his exhaustion, not wanting to fall asleep. But the more you play with his hair, the harder it is for him to stay awake.
“I’m alright,” he says, seemingly reading your mind. It’s hard to tell whether he’s reassuring you or himself.
“I know,” you knead his shoulder, aiming to ease the tension knotted there. “You better sleep, or I might start rambling again.”
A faint, tired hum escapes him, at long last allowing his eyes to close. “I like hearing you talk,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your collarbone, drifting off soon after that.
You continue to hug him, feeling the weight of his body gradually relax against yours as his breathing evens out. The room is quiet, but your mind is far from it: a tornado of emotions swirls within you—concern, relief, love, and something else you can’t quite decipher. It isn’t until sleep finally claims you too that your brain stops going a hundred kilometers an hour.
The most surreal Sunday night of your whole life.
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“So… when will you let me see Lolo again?”
Wade’s question makes you stop mid-pour, flicking your eyes between the drink and him. A few seats away, you hand a glass to Adam. Returning to where Wade’s currently sitting, you dry your hands on your apron. “Why are you even here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, and he gives half a shrug. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t holding him against his will.”
“He’s been crashing at your place almost every night. You have your own methods, woman,” he raises one finger, then quickly adds another, pointing at your shirt. “Two methods, in fact.”
At that, you laugh mirthlessly, shaking your head with a grin. “I’m surprised anyone would willingly date you.”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts, taking a tentative sip of his beer and leaning back in his chair.
You glance at him while you wipe down the bar, looking for something to occupy your hands. “He’s not my boyfriend—yet.”
Wade mimics a punch in his chest, just where his heart’s supposed to be, though you’re starting to question whether he has one. His lips form a small, exaggerated pout. “That must hurt, doll. You got yourself into a situationship with a goddamn fossil. Good luck getting out of that.”
“It’s not that bad,” you say, rolling your eyes. “We’re cool this way. There’s absolutely no need for a title.”
“Okay, let’s rehearse that one more time because you look like you’re about to cry,” he lifts an eyebrow, drawing nearer. “You want the title, right?”
“I don’t.”
He props his chin on his hand, laughing at you. “Yes, you do. You can’t fool me.”
“I said I don’t.”
“I said I don’t,” he mocks you, kicking his legs and puckering his lips.
You can’t help but throw the towel down on the counter with irritation, giving in. “Okay! Of course, I want the fucking title.”
“There she is!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in a triumphant gesture. “Glad we’re speaking the truth now,” he tilts his head to the side, noticing your sudden silence. “Hey, drop the long face. I’m sure he’s been thinking about it. In order to understand Logan, I usually compare him to elders over ninety.”
“Why would you do that?” you ask, your tone a mix of mild annoyance and curiosity.
“Just think about it! Senior citizens didn’t date for too long in the past. They’d go straight from strangers to lovers. Take my grandparents, for example: in the span of one year, they met at a party, then got married, and had five kids. Do you really want to have a litter of Logan’s grumpy, hairy puppies?”
“Wade, that’s not even possible.”
“The point is,” he continues, finishing his beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Logan’s rusty in this area, alright? I’d bet a thousand dollars he probably dated Cleopatra.”
“How did you pass History in high school?”
“I never graduated, but keep that between us,” he lifts his shoulders, shrugging. He spins the empty bottle, contemplating his next words. “You should tell him how you feel and what you want. That’s what works best for Vanessa and me. It’s easier that way—you can’t expect him to just guess.”
You wrap your arms around yourself. “I just wish he’d realize it on his own.”
“Well, sometimes you need to give the other person a bit of guidance. I’m just laying out the basics of a relationship here. Did your parents hate each other or something?”
The irony of it all. “They got divorced when I was little.” 
“Oh, god,” Wade sighs, rubbing his temples before glancing at you. “Let me get this straight: Mommy and Daddy weren’t exactly the poster children for love. And you also happen to be a bartender. Anything else, honey? Please tell me you’re at least getting laid, because otherwise, I’m going to feel tremendously sorry for you and your mental health.”
Just then, you hear your name being called. Smiling at Wade, you mumble: “Saved by the bell.” Once you’re back from taking some orders, Wade jumps to his feet, coming around the counter to hug you.
“Dude, what’s the matter with you?” you ask, loosely returning the hug. 
“You’re a fucking survivor,” he whispers in your ear, genuinely sounding concerned. “I don’t know how you do it—you seem so put together. I would’ve lost it by now. A life without sex sounds awful.”
“Jesus, Wade! Get off!” you stretch your arm to punch him in the back, earning a groan from him. “Back to your seat, gentleman. I certainly don’t need your pity.”
“I’m a certified sexologist. Your secret’s safe with me,” he declares with a smirk, gesturing to his empty beer. “But first, I’m gonna need more of this tasty apple juice.”
“I hope you’ve got some cash on you,” you say, getting him another beer. “Why do I get the feeling Logan would kill us if he knew we’re talking about this?”
“Isn’t that what makes it even better?”
Swaying on your feet, you scrunch your nose, momentarily lost in thought. “He won’t let me touch him. I don’t know if it’s me that does something wrong. We do have our… moments, but he takes care of himself. And usually in the bathroom.”
Wade goes white in front of you. “How long has this been going on?”
“Over a month.”
“Oh. That’s bad, like, really bad.”
“Thanks! I’ll be sleeping on the highway tonight. You can always join me.”
“Doll, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed, alright?” he waves his hand dismissively, then sets his palms flat on the counter. “I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but talking to him is your best bet. This isn’t something you can just brush under the carpet. You’re like a goddamn radio—put it to good use.”
Just as you’re about to reply, you spot Logan entering the bar. You raise a hand in greeting, waving at him. He meets your gaze and smiles briefly, and so your eyes drift to Wade’s, shooting him a warning look. “If you keep this to yourself, I won’t charge you for today,” you mutter through gritted teeth, to which he answers by pretending to zip his mouth closed.
Logan takes a seat next to him, ignoring his presence. Instead, he focuses entirely on you. “Hey, kid.”
“Hey, homey.”
“Hiya, Wade,” Wade greets himself with a mock cheer, patting his own back, which makes you laugh. He turns to Logan and his whole face lights up. “I’m afraid to tell you I can’t sleep when you’re not around.”
Logan rolls his eyes. “Get your shit together.”
“You’re the worst roommate ever! Can’t believe you got yourself a girl and completely forgot about your bro,” Wade murmurs under his breath, just as his phone rings. “Thank God. I’ve got to go. My love nugget’s calling,” he announces, heading for the door. Before leaving, Wade blows the two of you a kiss. “I hate you both, but I also love you. Peace out, my friends!”
Logan and you exchange glances. “He’s a funny guy, isn’t he?”
“You could say that,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. Logan intends to deepen the kiss, but you pull away after a couple of seconds. He frowns, clearly confused. “That’s how you greet me?”
You bite your lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “My tip jar is practically empty, and I hate to say it, but it’s your fault.”
“Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”
“Oh, no.”
“Good, ‘cause I’m not,” he plants a quick kiss on your cheek, making you smile. “You have classes tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah, at 9 am,” you almost grunt, not feeling too enthusiastic about it. “I’m gonna need your help. I can’t sleep through my alarm, okay? The professor said tomorrow’s class is an important one. Midterms are right around the corner, and I can’t take the liberty of failing them.”
“That won’t happen,” he assures you, and you believe him. “I can be of help, don’t worry. You won’t oversleep.”
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Oh, Logan. Sweet, lying Logan.
Turns out you ended up oversleeping. Twenty-five years on this earth, and you still haven’t learned not to trust a man, even if his puppy-dog eyes silently beg you to do otherwise. The thing is—you love them. You love men. And you’re especially fond of the one currently sleeping in your bed.
The first rays of sunshine hit your face, waking you up. You attempt to raise a hand to shield your eyes, but moving any limbs feels like a Herculean task. A warm body is pressed against your back, one veiny arm draped over your stomach. Logan remains fast asleep behind you, his steady breathing succeeding in making you feel at ease. You reach back, running your fingers through his messy hair, and he grumbles in his sleep, instinctively pulling you closer.
What a nice, domestic morning. Yep, you’re getting used to this. And nope, you don’t regret it, not even in the slightest bit.
Though there must be a mistake, because you’re preeeeetty sure you had something important to do. 
Oh. You have classes. Had—past tense.
You reach for your nightstand, blindly groping for your phone. The charger is lying on the floor, the plastic of it all damaged. Perhaps Earnest had chewed on it while you were sleeping? You gently pry Logan’s arm off you, sitting up, and your bleary eyes land on something barely peeking out from under the bed.
It’s your fucking phone. The screen is completely shattered, with three distinct holes in the middle of it. Three holes, how strange! You can’t help but wonder who might have left them. Clutching your pillow, you whack Logan in the face with it. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!”
He groans, trying to take the pillow away from you. “What the fuck is wrong with you, kid?”
“I wish I had a UNO reverse card because I should be the one asking you that!” you jab your finger into his chest, showing him the ruined phone. “You broke my fucking phone!”
“What?” he asks, voice laden with sleep, still disoriented. He holds the phone, carefully scrutinizing it. “I think I don’t know how to hit the snooze button.”
“No shit, Sherlock. I believe you’ve made that very clear,” you huff, tossing the phone aside as you flop back onto the mattress. The clock on your nightstand says 11:05 am, and you cover your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. “Next time, when it goes off, just wake me up and I’ll do it.”
Logan settles beside you, resting his head on his forearm as he watches you. “I’m sorry, bub. I’ll get you a new one.”
“It’s fine,” you murmur, sighing. This is your free ticket to be a menace. “I should’ve known dinosaurs and phones would never get along. My bad, pal.”
You don’t even get to see his reaction because he starts tickling you, the room filling with your laughter. Squealing, you try to wriggle away, but his fingers dig into your ribs, expertly finding your most ticklish spots. Your giggles escalate into breathless laughter, your eyes squeezed shut as you desperately attempt to push him away. He’s relentless, chuckling when his own laughter bubbles up. 
“L-logan, stop!” you gasp between fits of laughter, aiming to grasp his hands.
“We dinosaurs love tickling people. Sorry, sweetheart,” he manhandles you until you’re perched on his lap, fisting the fabric of your (his) shirt. Leaning forward, he captures your mouth in a heated kiss. “I’m sorry about the phone,” he slurs the words against your cheek, his lips trailing down to your neck. You tell him that it’s okay, trying to find a comfortable position on top of him, and that’s when his thigh presses against your core, your eyes widening at the unexpected sensation. Logan’s no fool, noticing the way your breath hitches. “What’s wrong, baby? You woke up needy?”
“No, I just—” you trail off as he does it again, his strong thigh coming in contact with your clothed cunt. You search for leverage by placing your hands on his shoulders, glancing at him. “Logan.”
“I’m all ears,” he rests his back against the headboard, the tent in his boxers impossible to ignore. “You want to get off on my thigh,” he states with certainty. It’s not a question—it’s a full-on statement. He knows what you want, what you crave. “Come on then. Grind against it.”
You do as he says, not caring to think twice. You start moving, rubbing your wet pussy against his muscular thigh. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and soon, you’re whimpering his name, your hands trailing down his abs. Why hadn’t you tried this before? It feels fucking amazing.
From his position, Logan stares at you, his lips slightly parted, eyes clouded with lust. Your arousal drenches your panties, soaking through them, the fabric clinging to his coarse leg hair. He glances down at the mess you’re making, his grin widening as he takes in the sight. “Goddamn, woman. I’m gonna make you clean it off, I swear to God.”
“Need your help,” you whisper, lowering your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. The coil tightening inside you is almost unbearable. A kiss is what you lean in for, desperate for more, though Logan appears to have other plans. He fists your hair, pulling at your nape and yanking your head back. The roughness of the movement pulls a moan from your lips, your mouth parched like a desert. 
“Eyes up here, okay? You look at me when I make you come,” his raspy voice makes you feel tingly, each word sending shivers down your spine. His hands fiercely grab the flesh of your hips, guiding you, helping you grind harder against his thigh. You think you’re on the verge of drooling when you catch the way his abdomen flexes, working to push you toward that long-awaited release. “That’s it, there you go,” he rasps, relishing the sounds he’s eliciting from you, each of your gasps feeding his desire.
Time slows as the warmth in your belly finally erupts, your eyes fighting to stay open through the aftershocks of your orgasm. No actual words leave your mouth, just a string of whines and moans, some carrying Logan’s name. He swallows every single sound you make, everything you give him, grunting as your legs tremble and shake atop him.
He lets you collapse onto your back, your breathing gradually evening out. “I think I saw fireworks behind my lids,” you confess, your mouth dry, expecting Logan to flop onto the mattress beside you. But he doesn’t. Through your blurry vision, you contemplate as he positions himself between your parted legs, getting dangerously close to your cunt. “Logan, what are you— Oh, fuck,” you moan mid-sentence when you feel him pulling your panties aside to lick a slow strip through your folds, collecting your arousal. He points his tongue, dipping it into your entrance, and you wince, squirming. “Santa Claus, is that you?”
Logan grins against you, closing his mouth around clit for a moment. He then shifts until he’s eye-to-eye with you, two of his fingers sliding into you in one smooth motion. “Give me another one,” he murmurs, his other hand slipping under your shirt to play with your nipples, pinching them. 
You never imagined two fingers could bring such intense pleasure. You just lie there, taking it like a good girl, as Logan sometimes call you. “Please, I need you,” you cry out, your fingernails scraping against his torso.
“I know, darlin’. I’m right here,” he rasps against your temple, moving his fingers in and out of you with more enthusiasm. But what he doesn’t understand is that you need all of him. Your hands itch to touch him, to feel the weight of his cock. The corners of his mouth turn up as he watches you struggle to find words. “Wish you could see yourself like this. Such a pretty girl, so gorgeous like this,” his fingers keep grazing that bundle of joy deep inside you, and he goes in for a kiss, the sour taste of your slick invading your taste buds. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever had. Need to stretch you real good before fucking you with my cock.”
Bingo! That last sentence does it for you, and you come for the second time in the morning, your cunt clenching and spasming around his fingers. You hide your face in his neck, mouthing at his Adam’s apple. He hasn’t trimmed his beard in days, and it shows because you can now feel a burning sensation on the soft skin of your inner thighs.
“You’re allowed to break all my phones from now on,” you suggest, only to hear Logan’s laughter in your ear. He snakes a hand through your hair, shoving it back away from your face. You feel him kiss your sweaty forehead, and as you press yourself closer to his body, something hard nudges your hipbone.
Absentmindedly, you trace the waistband of his boxers with your index finger, your eyes snapping to his face. Logan freezes on the spot, and it’s almost as if he’s stopped breathing. Without a word, he rises from the bed, his movements sudden and almost mechanical. You watch him, puzzled, as he heads toward the bathroom, the intimacy of just moments ago being abruptly replaced by a dreadful silence.
“Logan, is everything okay? Do you need something?” you ask and he pauses at the bathroom door, his back to you. For a brief second, you think he might actually open up, but when he turns around, his expression is neutral, masking whatever thoughts are running through his mind. At last, he flashes you a quick smile.
“I’m fine,” he says, his tone gentle but distant. “Just gonna take a shower. Then we can have breakfast together, right?”
You nod, his words easing the growing sense of frustration gnawing at you. He disappears into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon follows. You sink back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You take your pillow and bury your face in it, letting out a muffled groan. There’s something he isn't telling you, something hidden deep beneath his usual gruff exterior. Although you try to piece together the fragments of his behavior, they don’t quite fit.
The minutes drag on, and the sound of the shower becomes a distant, constant background noise. You close your eyes, visualizing your happy place, but your thoughts keep spiraling. All you can do is wait—wait for him to come back and act as if nothing had happened.
Logan’s right there, just a few feet away—yet in moments like these, he feels miles apart. It’s one of those days in which, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to bridge that distance. 
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It had all started with you asking Logan “Have you ever watched (500) Days of Summer?”
Of course, he had refused to watch the movie at first, and of course, you had threatened him with phoning Wade to let him know that Logan wanted to have a sleepover. That had done the trick.
You had asked for a day off at the bar, and surprisingly, your boss hadn’t objected. That turn of events led to this moment: sprawled out on the couch with Logan, the two of you watching the final minutes of your favorite film. Logan takes a long drag of his cigar, eyes trained intently on the screen. He’s only wearing sweatpants, which had caused your attention to drift from the plot a few times. The fact that you managed to sit through the entire movie without needing to pause it makes you feel particularly invincible.
Hey.
You again.
Yeah. I, uh, was just wondering if maybe after this, if, um, you— you want to get some coffee or something.
Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sort of supposed to meet someone after this.
Okay.
“That poor fella,” Logan murmurs, taking a slow sip of his beer. You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, a contented smile playing on your lips. His fingers absently stroke your hair.
“Just wait,” you say, pointing to the screen of your laptop.
Sure.
What’s that?
Why not?
Okay. Well, then I’ll just, uh— I’ll wait for you.
We— we’ll figure it out.
We’ll figure it out.
“They’ll figure it out!” you exclaim, but Logan quickly shushes you, his attention unwavering.
My name’s Tom.
Nice to meet you. I’m Autumn.
When the movie comes to an end, you’re met with Joseph Gordon-Levitt breaking the fourth wall, staring straight at the audience as if he knows he’s about to get himself into a mess with another girl named after a season. You sit up, your eyes eagerly searching for Logan’s. “So? Did you like it? I’ve watched it seven times now. Can’t understand how it gets better each time.”
Logan closes his mouth around his cigar, inhaling deeply before answering. “Yeah, it was pretty good,” he says, his hand finding your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Summer’s a bitch, though.”
“I respectfully disagree,” you tell him, grabbing his beer and giving it a try, only to grimace at the taste. Shuddering, you set it back down. “Why don’t you like her character?”
“Well, for starters, she did Tom dirty. Played with him like he was a damn rag doll.”
You raise an eyebrow, hugging a cushion closer to your chest as you lean back into the couch. “He knew from the beginning she didn’t want to be his girlfriend. Summer was clear—Tom just though he was smart enough to change her mind.”
“They acted like boyfriend and girlfriend the whole movie,” he scorns, placing his cigar down into the ashtray with a bit more force than necessary.
Is your first argument going to be over a movie? Exciting.
“Logan, they weren’t even official.”
“But she made it seem like they were,” he insists, the frustration in his voice growing.
“They were in a situationship—the perfect example, really. That’s not the same as being a couple.”
His gaze dips to the floor, brows knitted in a deep frown. “I think you’re relying on the technicality that they never used those titles. I mean, they did everything together. Isn’t that what normal couples do?”
Lord have mercy.
“Logan, who am I to you?” you inquire, crossing your arms over your chest.
He hesitates, narrowing his eyes, the question clearly catching him off guard. “You are—what? I don’t understand. Is this some kind of mind game you’re playing?”
“It’s actually very simple: if someone were to ask you about me, what would you say? Am I a friend? A bartender?” you inch forward, holding your breath, your tone faltering slightly. Meanwhile, Logan’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. “A fling? Your girlfriend? You complain so much about Summer, yet you can’t even name what we have.”
The living room falls into a heavy silence. Logan blinks slowly, his forehead creasing as he processes your words. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“Because these are the kinds of conversations we need to have. I understand you don’t want to have them, but I do.”
“Fine. Then tell me what it is that you want,” he asks, his mouth snapping shut when he sees you snorting in response.
“I don’t— I don’t know! To know how you feel, if possible?” you stand up from the couch, taking the cushion with you. You grind your jaw, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Why is it that every time I try to touch you, you push me away?”
He scrunches up his face, mirroring your movements and rising from his seat. “Bub, can we please talk about this tomorrow—”
“No! You don’t get to make all the choices, that’s not fair. Deciphering you isn’t easy, Logan. I’m not asking you to tell me everything you’ve been through. I just wish I could know how you feel about me. I can’t stand in front of you and pretend I don’t mind where this is going, because I’m more than sure I’m falling in love with you. “
“You can’t. You shouldn’t,” he says, his expression hardening. He turns his back to you, running his hands over his face in frustration before heading to the kitchen.
“Well, what were you expecting?” you follow him into the kitchen, finding Earnest on top of the fridge, beholding the scene with a curious gaze. “You basically moved in here, gave me a free trial of what life with you might be like, and now you have the audacity to appear surprised when I tell you I’ve caught feelings?” salty tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you spread your arms wide in exasperation. “Oh, but you’re right. How could I’ve been this stupid, to fall for the damned Wolverine!” you laugh bitterly, expecting him to break eye contact, but he doesn’t. “You think you’re so bad, so broken. Guess what: you’re not, because I love you, and I couldn’t care less about your past. You may think you’re unlovable, but you’re not, you hear me?”
For a heartbeat, the world seems to pause. And so he says:
“You are the most exasperating person I know.”
“Wow. Thank you so much!” you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You run a hand through your hair, infuriated. “That makes me feel better!”
“Let me do the talking now,” he says, taking long strides toward you, and the proximity makes you lower your head. “You’re not getting the final say today. Just because I’m not over-sharing my feelings all the time doesn’t mean I don’t have them! In fact, I do. I may not express them openly, but they exist. And I wish you could see inside my head! You’d be delighted at how much time I spend thinking about you,” you cackle at his words, rolling your eyes. His fingers grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “There hasn’t been a single moment since the day we met that I have stopped wanting you. Your voice is like a goddamn radio that, no matter what I do, I can’t turn off. It’s like I’m infected by you, and I hate it!” his eyes burn with a mix of anger and affectionpur, his pursed lips softening as he continues. “No good ever comes from caring this much about someone. So excuse me for being scared of ruining the only good thing that’s happened to me in years!”
You hit him with the cushion—not with enough force to make him hurt, but enough to make a point.
“Drop it, kid.”
“I’m—” you hit him again, “not—” and again, “stupid. I know what I’m getting myself into,” as you attempt to raise the cushion once more, Logan takes it from your hands, throwing it on the counter. Your shoulders sag, trying to find the strength to keep going. “And I know for a fact,” you add, glancing at his conflicted eyes, “that the easiest thing for me would be to walk away from you, but I can’t. It’s too fucking late.”
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I do! These are my feelings, okay? Mine, not yours. You don’t have the right to decide who I love and who I don’t.”
Logan’s eyes squint, scanning your face. “You’re… obnoxious.”
“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”
“And I—I love you,” he confesses, his nostrils flaring with emotion. Opening your mouth to say something, you close it moments later, your gaze locked on his. “You could take what you said, pretend as if I didn’t exist, and I wouldn’t say a thing, y’understand? I would move cities if you asked me, because I love you that fucking much, and I want you to be happy.”
You reach for his hand, briefly intertwining your fingers with his. Looking at him through your eyelashes, you rub your fingers over his stubble. “And what if my happiness comes from being with you?”
Logan lets out a harsh breath, his arm curling around your waist, pressing his chest to yours. “I can’t promise I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. I’ll probably makeplenty of mistakes.”
“Fine with me.”
“And you’ll be mad at me. A lot.”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure it’s mutual.”
Both of you laugh then, and you’re taken aback when he brushes his nose against your cheek, silently seeking permission to kiss you. His lips move hungrily against yours, trailing his hands down your spine, pulling you closer. He breaks the kiss and laughs at your eagerness when you chase after his mouth. You end up perched on his lap as he settles into one of your kitchen chairs. Logan stares into your eyes, his gaze drifting lower. “I won’t push you away this time. Not anymore.”
That’s your cue to finally do what you’ve been yearning for weeks. You fall to your knees in front of him, shaky fingers that graze the hairs on his happy trail. The bulge in his sweatpants is close to your face, and your mouth waters at the thought of having him between your lips. “Can I?” you ask, your voice a touch higher. 
He draws a long breath, tilting his head slightly. “You may, baby.”
You pull at his sweatpants and boxers, sliding them down his legs just enough to free his hard cock. As you take a look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, the sight overwhelming. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips, that musky scent of his hitting you.
A whimper escapes you, and Logan hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, darlin’. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he cants his hips up, causing your movements to stutter. “You can take a bit more, can’t you?” his question ends with a guttural grunt, his fingers tightening on your hair. “Gotta show me how much you want this.”
Logan takes all that you give him. You lower your head further, taking in another inch of him. Sex’s supposed to feel good, but this? It feels even greater. And he’s not even inside you yet, you hear a voice murmur in your head. The hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you sneak a hand between your bodies, grasping him by the base. You swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair..
“Thaaaat’s it, honey. Just like that, want you to choke on it,” he grumbles, running his mouth just the way you like. The tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat and tears fill your eyes. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure. Logan’s gaze is intense, and he stares into your soul, his chest heaving. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Dick got your tongue?”
You’ll definitely get back to that joke later.
“Will you—can you—”
“Come on, beautiful. I don’t have all day.”
God, you love it when he’s mean.
“Fuck my throat,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.
A smile dangles on the corner of his lips. “We both know you can be nicer.”
The fucker makes your pulse race. “Can you fuck my throat?” you ask again, more insistently. “Please.”
He guides himself into your mouth, smirking as he watches how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “How polite of you to say please. Some good manners you’ve got.”
You whimper around him, your body responding to the rhythm he sets, fully immersed in the intensity of the moment. And for a while, you drift away, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. It’s almost impossible not to compare him to your past hookups. You try to recall at least a single instance when another man made you feel this way, but no memory surfaces.
Time seems to stretch and warp. You don’t really know when it happens—he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, examining you. “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with that sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. Defeated, Logan shakes his head, pressing his finger against your tongue. “I was planning on coming on your mouth, but I think I’ve got a better idea.”
In the blink of an eye, you’re in your bedroom. Not even a metaphor—he picks you up and basically runs to your room, closing the door behind him. You prop yourself on your forearms, trying to process what’s about to happen. Logan, already naked, climbs onto the bed after you, He kisses you slowly, tracing the curves of your body. “You still want this?”
“I do. I’m just… nervous, that’s all,” you admit, flashing him a quick smile. “It’s been two years of celibacy for me. Will it fit?” you ask, glancing down at his cock, and Logan stares at you in confusion. “Also, how many girlfriends have you had? Just curious.”
“I don’t think this is the time for that conversation.”
“You’re right,” you agree, lying back on the mattress, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Were they pretty?”
“Bub.”
“Yes?”
“Shut up,” he replies with a smirk. “Focus on me, okay?”
Despite your tries to crack jokes at the worst possible moment, things escalate pretty quickly. Logan’s got three fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. He’s already made you come once with his mouth—to get you more relaxed, he had said. Wanting sounds slip past your lips as he doesn’t miss the chance to hit that spot that makes you squeeze your legs together. The tip of his nose drags long lines up and down the skin of your neck, mouthing at your jaw.
“I’m ready,” you mumble after some minutes, reaching for his cock and stroking him. “Let’s break the bed.”
“You’re lucky you’re this cute,” he says, catching your lips in a kiss. “Condom?”
“Negative, Sergeant.”
“You don’t have any?”
You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want you to use one.”
The way his gaze darkens doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand guides your face toward his cock. “Get me wet,” he commands, and you oblige, sucking him into your mouth. You hum around him, unable to contain yourself, and you hear Logan chuckling above you. “Can’t believe this is what it takes for you to shut up. Gotta keep your mouth full all the time.”
Once he’s satisfied with the way you’ve slicked him, he positions himself over you, caging you between his arms. Logan pins you down with his body, his hot breath mingling with yours. When you stare into his eyes, all you see is pure love, and your heart swells with affection. “Will you fuck the bad jokes out of me?”
Logan laughs, rubbing his length along your folds, grazing your clit for a fleeting second. “I sure as hell will,” he assures you, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks into your eyes for approval. “Ready?”
“I was born rea— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head breaches you, your eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. “Fucking mutant dick.”
“You’ll love it, believe me,” he husks next to your ear. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. Logan pulls out, and then fucks into you with a little more force.  “How are you still so tight? You’re killin’ me here.”
“I’ve got no idea, but you feel—amazing,” you gasp, latching onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. “Oh, god. I can feel you in my stomach.”
“I know, baby, I know. Can feel it too,” he curls one of his hands around your throat, keeping you in place. From his position, he can watch the way your face contorts in pleasure. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips, he sucks hard. “You were desperate enough to get on your knees in the damn kitchen. You’ll be good now too, am I right?”
“Yes. Yes. I can be good,” you pant, eyes wide and pleading. “Anything you want. Just don’t stop.”
“I’m not stoppin’, princess. Don’t worry,” his mouth curves into a wicked grin as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. His hand on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make you feel the pressure, grounding you in the moment. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs against your chest, his voice laden with need. 
Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Logan’s grip on your neck loosens as his hand slides down to grasp your hip. He squeezes your tender flesh, pulling you harder against him, as if he can’t get close enough. The bed creaks under the intensity, but you barely notice, too far lost in the rhythm of his movements.
“You’re perfect, all I’ve ever wanted,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” you hear him repeat, more to himself than to you, his voice stranded as he tries to hold himself back, letting you chase your own release first.
The pressure inside you builds up, tightening with every skilled flick of his fingers. You’re sure you must look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, though the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Logan, I’m—” you croak, the wind being knocked out of your lungs with each relentless thrust. “I think I’m gonna come.”
He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you, let go for me. I’ll take care of you, baby, I swear,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall. Your body obeys him, a shuddering release tearing through you, moaning Logan’s name and gripping him like a vice. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, driving you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, contemplating how wrecked you look. “Tell me where—please, sweetheart.”
“Inside.”
“What?”
“I said inside. Come inside me, Logan.”
He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. Logan buries himself to the hilt, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls with his thick seed. Beside your head, his claws unsheate, tearing into the pillow. He ruts against you, his body trembling and writhing against yours, already apologizing for the pillow incident while pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m sorry. That hasn’t happened in a while.”
When Logan collapses beside you, he pulls you into his arms, kissing you eagerly. You return the kiss, wincing as you feel a bit of his cum slip out of you, rolling down your thighs. He stares at your glistening cunt without an ounce of remorse, and you close your legs. “That’s private.”
“It wasn’t very private a minute ago.”
“Logan?”
“Tell me, bub.”
“Knock, knock.”
He must truly love you, because he plays along: “Who’s there?”
“Ice cream.”
“Ice cream who?”
“Ice cream for you all night long.”
“Guess I didn’t succeed in fuckin’ the bad jokes out of you,” he teases softly, letting his head fall back on the bed. “But it’s fine. I’ll just have to keep tryin’.”
This is the story of how you end up dating a man who’s two hundred years old. But it’s also the story of how that same man learns to let his guard down and open his heart. So, remember this, kids: the sky’s the limit, especially when it comes to love—and yes, even when it involves dating mutants.
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dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)
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hauntedhowlett-writes · 3 months ago
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ROOM FOR RENT
PAIRING: logan howlett x female reader
RATING: explicit (18+) | WORD COUNT: 5.3k
SUMMARY: logan finds a new roommate.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: i have logan howlett brain rot and i’m not sorry. big smooch to everyone who let me yell about this to them including @eupheme @pedgito @wannab-urs @chaotic-mystery @kedsandtubesocks @undrthelights and @murder-wife 💕
WARNINGS: post deadpool & wolverine, variant!logan howlett, able bodied reader, reader being picked up (enhanced strength babyyyy), roommates to lovers trope, meddlesome pet cat, a splash of canon typical violence - mentions of blood and knife wounds, wade wilson/deadpool appearances, mild angst, explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact) - dirty talk, pain kink, biting, pet names, praise kink, oral sex - m & f receiving, a little dacryphilia during a blowjob, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, begging, size kink. if i’ve missed any, please let me know!
LINKS: masterlists | support for palestine
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If Logan has to wake up to Wade's constant yapping for the rest of his life, he's going to go insane. Every morning he's jolted awake by Wade singing in the kitchen. When he notices Logan is awake, the singing stops and the one-sided conversation begins and doesn't end until Logan finally gets up from the couch and leaves the apartment with nothing but the clothes on his back.
Today, with some money in his pocket from a few odd jobs he's picked up, he finds solace in a quiet coffee shop. Sat beside a bulletin board, he scans the postings.
Art show, art show, yard sale, job opening, roommate wanted, art show--
Roommate wanted? Logan tears the paper from the pin.
Room for rent in 2 bedroom/1 bathroom apartment. One cat. Laundry on site.
He folds the ad up and stuffs the paper in the pocket of his jacket before gathering his empty coffee cup and tossing it in the trash on the way out the door, an uncharacteristic spring in his step.
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Your phone rings with a number you don't recognize. You consider sending it to voicemail, already exhausted from fielding similar calls about your room for rent, but ultimately decide to answer.
"Hello?"
A man clears his throat on the other end of the line before responding with, "This the number for the rental?"
"Yep," you reply. "Were you interested in seeing it or have any questions?"
"How much is it?"
"Your half would be $950.”
"And it's a whole bedroom?"
"As opposed to a half bedroom?" You laugh at your joke but the man remains quiet and you wince. "I mean, yes. It's a whole bedroom."
"I'd like to come see it, if you've got the time."
"Sure, how's this Friday sound?" You suggest. "What's your full name?"
"Why do you need to know that?" The man's tone grows defensive and alarm bells ring in your head.
"Well, I'd like to make sure you're not, like, a wanted criminal or something," you tell him with an awkward laugh. He's quiet and for a moment you think that he may have hung up on you. "Hello?"
"Yeah, 'm still here," he sighs. "Name's Logan Howlett."
"Logan Howlett," you repeat. You give him your name in return, though he doesn't do much but grunt in acknowledgment. "Alright, well, do you have something to write down the address?"
"Just tell me, I'll remember."
After listing off the address, he ends the call with a rough goodbye. You get to work on your personal research, entering his name into a search engine.
No results.
You refresh the page, thinking that must be an error, but the same message appears.
No results.
You try spelling his name differently.
No results.
You set the phone down, anxiety starting to creep up your spine. It's hard to believe that there's absolutely nothing online about this man, who now has your full address, name, and phone number.
A sharp meow shakes you from your thoughts and you find that your cat has taken up residence on your lap, staring at you intently as his tail flicks back and forth. You run your hand over his head, scratching beneath his chin.
"You'll protect me, right?" You ask.
He leaps from your lap and struts away, fluffy tail disappearing down the hall that leads to your bedroom. You sigh.
Hopefully you haven’t just done something stupid.
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Logan's attempt to leave the apartment unnoticed does not go as planned. Althea is sitting on the couch, a re-run of a talk show playing loudly, when he tries to make a run for it. He's distracted, watching her too carefully that he doesn't realize Wade has just returned from god-knows-where.
"Whatcha doin', twinkle toes?" Wade asks, startling Logan, who slams into the kitchen table with a curse.
"Fucking hell," Logan curses, rubbing his hip. "When did you get in here?"
Wade shrugs. "Sometime around the start of your 007 impression."
"My what?"
"Nevermind," Wade sighs. "You look snazzy. Got a hot date?"
"No," Logan grunts.
"A cold date, then?"
Logan pinches his nose. "No."
"Well, care to share, sugar plum? What's got you sneaking around like the Black Widow?"
"The who?"
"May she rest in peace," Wade says, tone suddenly somber.
"He's tryin' to move out," Althea chimes in. Wade's mouth drops open in shock.
"You're abandoning us?!" he exclaims. "After all we've been through?"
"Let the man do what he wants," Althea says. "Damn co-dependent freak."
"Harsh," - Wade places a hand over his chest, -"you know I have daddy issues. And mommy issues. And abandonment issues. And--"
"Enough," Logan snaps. "Yes, alright? I'm looking for a new place. I can't sleep on that couch forever."
"Is it because it smells like old people?" Wade whispers, pointing an accusatory finger to Althea, who flips him off.
"Look, this is your universe. Your timeline. Mine is gone and it's time I start making this whole thing less temporary."
Wade tilts his head and places a hand on Logan's shoulder. "My little Wolvie, all grown up," he says, wiping at a fake tear. Logan shoves his hand away, storming past him for the door.
"Remember to smile! Give 'em the ol' razzle dazzle!" Wade shouts as he slams the door behind him.
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You pace your small living room and check the stove clock for the hundredth time in the past five minutes. Logan is due to see the apartment and your nerves have gone from a simmer to a full blown boil waiting for the mysterious man with no digital footprint to show up. Your cat is lounging on the windowsill, blissfully unaware of your inner panic.
Three sharp knocks at the door cause your pulse to skyrocket. You take a deep breath before crossing the short distance to the door, pulling it open with a smile.
"Hi! You must be--“
Your greeting dies on your tongue as you take in the man crowding your hallway. He's wearing a leather jacket over a white tank top that stretches tightly across a broad chest and jeans that highlight thick thighs. His dark hair is cut shorter on the sides than on the top of his head, the ends fanning out in a manner that reminds you of a cat's ears and he's sporting an impressively thick beard.
"'m Logan," he says in the same deep voice you heard over the phone, holding a hand out towards you. You slip your palm against his much larger one and you're surprised by how warm his touch is.
"H-hi," you stutter, shaking his hand. You clear your throat. "Sorry, hi. Uh, come on in."
You move aside to let him through the doorway, not missing the fact that his shoulders practically brush the frame as he steps inside. Your apartment opens up directly into the living room and kitchen with a small dining area set in between and you gesture around.
"Well, this is most of it, to be honest. I know it's not much but--"
"It's quiet," Logan interrupts. "Ain't used to quiet."
"Where, uh," -- you twist the hem of your shirt -- "where are you coming from? Exactly?"
"Kind of a long story. Right now I sleep on a couch in a shitty one bedroom apartment shared by an asshole who doesn't shut the fuck up and a blind cocaine addict."
"Oh," you reply, nodding despite your lack of understanding. "Yeah, it's just me here. Well, and Dumpling."
"Dumpling?"
As if summoned by his name, your cat appears, making a swift beeline for the newcomer. He twists around Logan's legs, butting his head against his shins. You bend down, scooping him up in your arms.
"This is Dumpling. He's cute, but he'll knock over any plants so I wouldn't recommend you take up indoor gardening if you decide to live here." Logan eyes Dumpling warily before holding a hand out. Dumpling sniffs his fingers daintily and rubs head against his palm. "I think he likes you."
Logan huffs, the sound close to a laugh, and it makes you smile. He looks up at you and for a moment you forget that you're complete strangers who have just met. He feels inexplicably familiar, his presence comforting, and you're surprised by it.
"Let's look at the bedroom," you finally say, breaking the moment. You turn, heading for the hall and he follows behind you, steps surprisingly light for such a large man. You take him to the last door at the end of the hall and enter the empty room. "This is it. It's kind of small, but all the rooms in New York are pretty much shoe boxes. It's got a closet and access to the fire escape, though.”
"Better than the couch," he says, looking around the room. "You said $950?"
"Plus half of the utilities," you add. He nods.
"Look, I'll be honest. I'm...between jobs right now." He sighs. "And my schedule can be...unpredictable."
"Oh," you mumble. You think about it for a moment. Renting the apartment to Logan would be a risk but...you can't help but notice that exhaustion in his eyes, how it's clear he's trying to get back on his feet in one way or another. "That's okay. We can work something out."
He raises an eyebrow at you. "Really? You sure about that?"
Were you?
"Yeah," you reply. "I'm sure."
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Having a roommate is...an adjustment.
Logan is great. He does his dishes in a timely manner, doesn't leave any clothes on the bathroom floor, and even cleans Dumpling's litter box from time to time.
But he drives you insane and it has nothing to do with his qualities as a roommate and everything to do with how unbearably attractive he is. He could be doing the most mundane activity and suddenly you're more turned on than a faucet on full blast. On top of it all, he's surprisingly sweet for such a gruff man.
Currently, you're watching him pour himself a glass of whiskey. You know he's probably preparing to take the drink to his room so that he can have a cigar on the fire escape, but you find yourself wanting his company.
"Logan?" you ask. He looks at you over his shoulder.
"Yeah, bub?"
"Would you...want to watch a movie? With me?"
He turns to fully face you, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of his drink, dark eyes on you over the rim of the glass. You swallow nervously, prepared to retract your offer and hide out in your room for the rest of eternity, but he puts you out of your misery.
"Sure." He comes over to the couch, taking a seat that's a respectable distance away. "What are we watching?"
"Have you seen The Greatest Showman?"
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A musical. He's sitting through a goddamn musical.
"You kinda look like that guy," you say from beside him. Logan tilts his head.
"I don't see it."
"It's the bone structure."
"I'm bigger than him." You mumble something under your breath that he doesn't quite catch, though he thinks it sounded suspiciously like yeah, you are. "You say somethin'?"
"Huh?" You shake your head. "No, nope. Didn't say anything."
Logan relaxes against the back of the couch, settling in. You're curled up against the armrest, a blanket covering your legs and your arms wrapped around a throw pillow. You look relaxed, at ease, a stark contrast to how you had been when he first moved in. You spent more of your time hidden in your room and he's happy to see you're getting more comfortable around him.
It's also torture. You're like a drug that he can't get enough of, a high that doesn't last long enough. He clings desperately to every smile you grace him with and falls asleep with the sound of your voice echoing in his head. He wakes up looking forward to seeing you, even if it's just in passing before you head out for your very normal job as part of your very normal life.
That's what gives him pause. You're not like him, not built for violence, and he would never drag you into that life. He thinks about Vanessa and Wade and the wedge that was driven between them they're working to repair and he can't bear the thought of having you just to lose you.
Logan's so lost in his own thoughts he doesn't realize that the movie has ended and you haven't moved. Your head is angled in a way that has to be uncomfortable, your mouth dropped open as you breathe slowly and deeply. He grabs the remote from the coffee table and turns the TV off, plunging the room into darkness as he stands and quietly approaches you.
He slides one arm beneath your knees and using the other to support your back, lifts you from the couch. You settle your head against his chest but otherwise your sleep remains undisturbed as he carries you down the hall into your room.
It's not the first time he's been in your personal space. One time he woke up to Dumpling clawing at his chest and he marched the animal back to your room for the night, barging in on you while you had been up reading. He remembers the queen sized bed in a wooden frame and a dresser with a drawer that won't shut take up most of the space, the plain white of your walls replaced by a soft blue. You've installed what he first thought were regular shelves but later learned are meant for Dumpling to use for late night acrobatics that he can sometimes hear from his room.
Logan sets you gently on your bed and pulls the quilt up to your shoulders. Before he can think better of it, he reaches a hand toward your face, tracing his thumb over the high point of your cheek. You turn towards the sensation, chasing his touch, and his chest grows tight. He sighs, stepping back and turning for the door.
Dumpling sits in the doorway, flicking his tail. Logan steps around him into the hallway, the cat's gaze following him.
"Shut up," he whispers.
Dumpling meows in return.
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You're disoriented when you wake the next morning. The last thing you remember is being on the couch with Logan and watching The Greatest Showman, but somehow you've ended up in your room. You turn over in bed to find Dumpling on your other pillow, curled in a ball.
"Morning, Dumpy," you murmur, scratching his head. "How'd we end up here?"
Dumpling blinks unhelpfully at you before uncurling from his spot and hopping from the bed, leaving through your open door. It's then that you notice that you can hear grunting noises coming from the living room.
You get up to investigate and stop dead in your tracks, mouth dropping open when you find the source of the noise is a shirtless Logan doing push ups on the living room floor. The broad muscles of his back ripple with each movement, each push accompanied by a small grunt that makes your thighs clench together, imagining him making that noise when--
Logan stops, jumping to his feet and you shake your head free of the salacious image it began to create. He turns, giving you an uninhibited view of his thick chest that's covered in dark hair that trails down over defined abs before disappearing beneath the elastic of his sweatpants. You have to say something, anything, but your brain is full of static, unable to operate when he's standing there looking like that.
"Morning," he says.
"Good morning!" you reply, voice pitched higher than usual. You walk past him in a way you hope is casual, heading for the kitchen and prepping the coffee machine. "You got any plans today?"
"Got a friend who needs my help with something. Don't know when I'll be back." His voice is much closer than you expected and you turn from the counter to find him right behind you, a scant few inches of space between your bodies.
"Oh?" you whisper, keeping your gaze firmly on his face. "Is everything okay?"
"It will be."
He drifts impossibly closer, chest nearly brushing yours. Your heart pounds in your chest, a frantic rhythm that's become familiar ever since Logan entered your life. Reaching above your head, he grabs two mugs in one large hand, setting them on the counter behind you before taking a step back and turning to head for his room without another glance in your direction.
You sag against the counter, a wave of lust addled adrenaline crashing over you and leaving you breathless. The last thing you need to be doing is getting involved with your roommate, no matter how tempting he may be.
Dumpling jumps up on the counter beside the coffee pot and stares at you, likely waiting for food, but it feels more like judgment in his green eyes.
"Shut up," you whisper to him.
Dumpling meows, batting you with a paw.
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You're sitting on the couch when there's an unexpected knock at your door. Logan is still gone, helping a friend and you're not expecting anyone, so you’re not sure who it could be. You check the peephole before opening the door and see the distorted image of a man in a red suit and mask supporting the weight of your roommate against his side.
"What the fuck?" you ask as you open the door in a panicked rush. The masked man waves his fingers at you.
"Hi there! I've got a very," -- he grunts, adjusting his grip on Logan -- "heavy delivery."
Logan's eyes are closed, head flopped back on the masked man's shoulder. Blood stains his t-shirt in spots that look suspiciously like knife wounds and you gasp.
"What happened to him?!" you shout. "Oh my god, he needs to go to the hospital--"
"He just needs a little power nap," the man says. "I'm Wade, by the way. You mind if I just--"
Wade drags Logan through the apartment, depositing him on your couch with a huff, wiping his hands together. He looks around and you're shocked when the eyes of the mask seem to move, as if mimicking his facial expressions.
"This is a nice place," he says. Dumpling meows and Wade gasps. "You have a cat?! I wish I could pet you, sweet kitty, but Dogpool would put me in the dog house. Ha! Get it?"
"I'm confused," you manage to say. "My roommate is bleeding out on my couch after being dropped off by some wanna-be Avenger--"
"Ouch!"
"And you're saying he doesn't need to go to the emergency room?"
"Nope." Wade lifts Logan's shirt. "See? Good as new."
Despite the blood and tears on his shirt, there's no wounds on Logan's body. He shifts, lifting an arm to smack Wade's hand away as he groans, eyes fluttering open. He glares at the man.
"Get out," he growls.
"Now, now, that's not being a very good host, Logi. What, were you raised by wolves?" Wade replies. Logan roars, a ferocious sound that's more animal than man. His hand curls into a fist and sharp metal blades extend from between his knuckles. "Okay, okay, I'm leaving, no need for the murder mittens." Wade looks at you. "You should come to Sunday dinner!"
"Wilson!" Logan shouts. Wade finally heeds the man's warnings, rushing for the door without another word, shutting it behind him. Logan sags against the couch, blades retracting into his hand. He tilts his head back, closing his eyes.
You stand there in shock, trying to make sense of everything you just witnessed. Logan should be halfway to dead by now, but he doesn't even have a scratch on him. He has claws. How does he have claws?
"Can hear you thinking," Logan says, eyes still shut. "Just say it."
"Say what?" you ask. He lifts his head.
"Tell me to get out, scream, whatever it is."
You sit down on the couch, facing him. "Why would I do that?"
"Because that's what you should be doing."
His hand rests on his thigh and you reach for it, lifting it to eye level for a closer look at his knuckles. You trace your thumb over the smooth skin, up over his strong forearm. He watches you, face almost pained.
"I'm not scared of you," you whisper. "You wouldn't hurt me."
"But I could," he bites back.
"You won't." You're certain of that. You set his hand back on his thigh and stand from the couch, intending to grab him a glass of water from the kitchen, but he stops you with a hand around your wrist. His grip is loose enough that you could break free, but you don't.
Logan looks up at you with an unreadable expression, something close to fear mixed with a conflicting emotion that you think -- or hope -- might be desire. He tugs your wrist, bringing you to stand between his legs.
"How can you be so sure?" he asks.
You place your hand on his cheek, the coarse hair of his beard scratching at your palm. His eyelids flutter and his lips part on a sharp inhale.
"You're a good man, Logan Howlett," you murmur. He closes his eyes tightly and takes a deep breath.
His next movements are quick -- a hand on the back of your thigh, dragging you onto his lap, the other wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you close, his lips capturing yours in a savage kiss. You melt into him, meeting his urgency with your own desperation, tongues tangling together and fighting for dominance.
You pull back to trail kisses across his jaw until you reach his neck, sinking your teeth into the tan skin, just over his hammering pulse. Logan groans, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, pulling you tightly against him as his hips buck into yours.
"Fuck," Logan says, voice a deep rumble that you feel to your marrow. "Do that again."
"Do what?" you tease.
"Bite me," he demands. "Make it hurt."
You obey, biting down into his shoulder with greater effort, sinking your teeth in deep until he hisses from the pain of it and you let go, lifting your head to look at the mark you've left behind. It fades quickly, disappearing without a trace.
"Jesus," he says, pulling you in for another kiss, slow and deep, as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "Let me see you."
You allow him to lift your shirt up and over your head, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. His touch makes you shiver despite the heat of his hands as he traces the curve of your waist up to your chest, his thumbs finding your nipples and teasing them with slow circles. You drop your head back with a moan and he takes the opportunity to kiss your neck, your collarbone, moving down until his lips wrap around one taut bud.
"Logan," you whine, digging your fingers into his hair and holding tight. He hums, the sensation making your eyes roll.
"Thought about this," he murmurs, switching to your other breast. "Every time you'd wear those goddamn tight shirts of yours."
"Really?"
"Mhm."
"Wanna know what I thought about?" You tug his hair, pulling his head away from your chest. "Sucking your cock."
He raises his eyebrow at you and you take the opportunity to slide from his lap, settling on your knees between his spread thighs. You work his belt loose, followed by the fly of his jeans. He reaches past the waistband to free his cock and your mouth waters at the sight. You could tell he was big while you were on his lap, but he's even more glorious than you imagined. Thick, long, with prominent veins and a slight upward curve that you know will hit all the right places.
You take him in your hand, appreciating the weight of him in your palm as you hold him steady. With your eyes locked on his face, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue to lick from the top of your fingers to the flushed head. He groans, his hand curling into a fist that he presses to his forehead.
"Fuck," Logan hisses. You do it again, this time swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him into your mouth, moving down his length slowly. "God, look at you. Mouth stuffed so full you're drooling, huh?"
He's right. Spit gathers at the corners of your lips and runs down your chin as you use your mouth to pleasure him. The sounds he makes above you are downright filthy, deep moans and filthy praise that have you moving faster, taking him deeper, working to get as much of him in your mouth as you manage without gagging. He cups your cheek with one large palm, thumb tracing your stretched lips.
"Keep going, sweetheart. You can take a little more, can't you? That's it," he says. Tears burn your cheeks with the effort to obey, your throat tightening around the head of his cock. "Fuck, that's a good girl."
You breathe deeply through your nose, maintaining a steady pace and using your hand in tandem with your mouth for what you can't easily take. Logan's hips begin to flex beneath you, his words trailing off into guttural growls. His cock twitches in your grasp and he moans your name before his release floods your mouth and you swallow it down.
You pull off of him with a slick pop, gasping for breath. Before you can say anything, Logan is hauling you to your feet as he stands from the couch, lifting you up with one strong arm beneath your ass and urging your legs around his waist.
"What are you doing?" you ask.
"Just getting started."
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Logan kicks the door open to your room, startling Dumpling from his perch. The cat races out the door, disappearing into the living area as the door clicks shut. He sets you down on your bed and quickly rids himself of his boots and rest of his clothing before returning his attention to you.
You're lying there in your little sleep shorts that drive him nuts. The fabric barely covers your ass and there's been more than one occasion where he's shuffled into the kitchen in the mornings to see you in them, all the blood in his body rushing south at the sight. He joins you on the bed, on his knees between your spread thighs, and extends a single claw. Your eyes widen, but you don't pull away. In fact, you start squirming, hips flexing minutely against the mattress.
"Scared yet?" he asks.
"I wouldn't say that.”
He carefully slips the blade beneath the hem of your shorts, inching it up until it peeks out above the elastic waistband before twisting his wrist and slicing through the fabric like it's nothing. Claw retracted, he removes your ruined shorts and takes a moment to appreciate the vision you make, legs spread wide and your dripping pussy on display.
"You're a mess," he says, smoothing his hands over the soft skin of your legs. He lifts one of your knees, pressing a kiss to the inside of it before resting it on his shoulder. "Gonna clean you up."
Logan dips his head to your center, dragging his tongue through your soaked sex, groaning when the taste of you blooms across his tongue. Your fingers curl against his scalp, a sharp point of pleasure-pain as he explores your body. He swirls his tongue over your clit, experimenting with broad circles and sharp flicks until you're writhing beneath him.
"Logan," you cry, hips bucking against his face. He dips his tongue into your cunt, nose brushing your clit as he does, and he hums in satisfaction as your thighs tense around his head.
He looks up at you and drinks in the picture you make, gorgeous skin glistening with sweat and your back arched from the bed, chest heaving with desperate breaths. He wants this exact moment burned into his memory, certain it could chase away the dark shadows that linger there.
Logan presses two fingers to your hole, sliding them in with little resistance. You're so warm and tight, squeezing his fingers beautifully, calling out his name as he curls them when he drags them from your body.
"I'm going to come," you gasp. "Oh, fuck, just like that!"
You pulse around his fingers and he slows his movements to work you through it until you collapse against the mattress with a deep sigh. He carefully removes his hand and sits up on his knees.
"Guess I made more of a mess," Logan says. Your eyes squeeze shut with a breathless giggle.
"I'll forgive you," you reply. You reach your arms up for him and he moves to hover over you to accept your embrace. "God, Logan," you murmur, tilting your chin up to kiss him.
In this position, he's able to drag his cock through the slick mess between your thighs and you shiver beneath him, gasping into his mouth. He does it again, more purposeful this time and it drags a moan from you both.
"Please," you murmur.
"Please what, sweetheart? Tell me what you want," he replies. "What you need."
"Need you to fuck me."
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Logan reaches between your bodies and positions the thick head of his cock at your entrance, pushing forward. The stretch of him is unreal, almost too much even with how wet you are for him.
"Relax," he says, holding himself steady above you. "You can take it."
You nod and he pushes forward another inch, letting you adjust, and repeating the process until the coarse hair at the base of his cock tickles your sensitive skin. You've never been so full, no other experience compares to this. No other man compares to Logan, in any way.
He starts moving slowly, dragging his hips back until you're nearly empty before plunging back inside. Each thrust puts stars in your vision, makes the knot of want and need coil tighter in your lower belly, until you're moaning his name and begging him to move faster, harder, deeper.
Logan obeys, thrusting into you with enough force that your head board collides with the wall. He sits back on heels, dragging you up with him until you're sitting in his lap and he's able to thrust up into you.
"Feel so fucking good," he says, lips against your neck. "Need you to come for me, baby."
You nod, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and holding him close, meeting each of his thrusts with a rock of your hips that drags your clit against him, your nerves buzzing with the friction and fullness. While the orgasm he wrenched from you with his mouth felt like a wildfire, this one builds and builds, a wave cresting until it finally crashes and you cry out his name.
Logan leans forward to drop you back onto the bed, reaching a hand up to grip your headboard as he continues to roll his hips into yours, chasing his own release. His thrusts begin to grow more desperate until he presses in deep and you're flooded with warmth as he growls, long and low. The sound of splintering wood breaks through your post-orgasmic haze and you tilt your head back to find that his claws have extended through your headboard, splitting the wood and embedding into the drywall.
"I can fix that," Logan says breathlessly, tugging his hand free, claws retracting. You grin at him.
"Later," you reply, pulling him in for a kiss.
You've got better things to do right now.
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Thank you so much for reading! For more of my writing, check out my masterlists!
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i2sunric · 3 months ago
Text
𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 (p.sh)
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“fucking all the time is wrong when you're not mine, baby"
PAIRING: boyfriend's best friend!sunghoon x reader (f)
SUMMARY: just like eva did in the garden of eden, you fell under the serpent's court and now are under his spell. you knew you shouldn't betray your boyfriend, jake, like that when he was (not) so right for you, but seeing that he spent more time out for work made you seek the love and affection you needed, and who if not sunghoon could give you what you deserved?
WARNINGS: cheating (don’t like, don’t read). unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), they fuck everywhere and i mean it, toxic, creampie, masturbating, pussy eating, fighting, kissing, jealousy, doggy, missionary, rough blowjob, angst if u squint? jake is a toxic bf, sunghoon low-key corrupts reader, reader is designed with a weak personality. lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.
(RE)PUBLISHED: 6th August 2024
WC: 13.6k
TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin (oneshot) @mitmit01 @lilyuwon @whoslai @simhinata @ihrtantn @deobitifull @heeswif3y @skylalyla @lanapaz @run2min @rizz00 @yeorns @rayofsunshineeee @kim2005bomi @lhspeachie @star4rin @nyxtwixx @skipiuki @camprock101 @acolytees @hoonsdrnkdzd @jjklvr9 @sophi-ee @iamliacamila @nctislifue @dengenej @yorukoshii @nshmrarki BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED
a/n: before some loser tries to throw shit at this i have to say that no, cheating is NOT hot and this is purely fictional. this isn’t the only fiction with cheating as a trope and it comes from a project that IS supposed to have heavy and bothering themes, mostly because it comes as inspiration from a song (go listen to it, daniel di angelo ‘GET YOU BETTER’) that gives me toxic vibes. anw, LIKE & REBLOG please and lmk your thoughts (again) on this fic <3
“Again?” You asked with a deep frown after hearing that your boyfriend had yet to go to another work trip, despite having just returned from one “I know baby, what can I do? They need me.” He said it as if you were complaining already.
But could he blame you? You had spent two summer weeks alone and bored without Jake and now you had to go through another couple of weeks.
“Why you? They have other workers.” You commented, raising a brow.
Jake sighed and walked closer to you “Because I’m good, aren’t you proud of me?” You looked away and murmured “Of course i’m proud of you.”
Jake noticed your sudden change of mood and turned you to look at him “Come on, I'll be back before you even realise it.”
You rolled your eyes at his statement, something that Jake did not like “Don’t be selfish, I need to work to have money.”
“I'm not being selfish,” You reminded, tone cold. “I just miss my boyfriend who’d rather be miles away from me.” You snapped, stepping back and crossing your arms to your chest.
Those words had been left unspoken on your tongue for too long to be able to hold them back anymore.
“We both know that’s not true.” He hissed, rubbing his temples “Do we?” You scoffed
Jake clicked his tongue, “Listen, I'm just asking you to understand.”
You frowned again at him “I understand Jake, I've always done it!” Your voice raised out of frustration “So why can’t you understand me?”
“You?” His frown matched yours, a few wrinkles appearing on his forehead “What is there to understand about a needy and clingy girl?”
As soon as those words left his mouth your eyes saddened. Were you really being that whiney? So many questions formed inside your head while Jake regretted ever speaking.
You were just being honest, that’s what Jake always wanted from you; honesty, to voice out your feelings, so why was he mad at you?
“Taking many short distance flights is also not good for your body…” You murmured, bitter tears running down your cheeks, your gaze locked on the ground
Jake’s face softened, realising that you weren’t complaining— you were worried for him “Baby I—“
You shook your head “Save it.” And walked away, disappearing in the bedroom. Jake ran a hand through his hair in frustration, leaving you to cool down.
However you both were two stubborn beings so, instead of resolving it, you laid on opposite sides of the bed with heavy hearts, hoping the night to wash the annoying feelings away.
Heleft early in the morning, without a single message or a note and not even a kiss on your shoulder.
Whenever he had a flight in the night or early morning to catch and you would still be asleep, he used to kiss you softly on the shoulder, but this time he hadn’t.
Had you been too harsh with him the day before? Were you really being selfish?
You glanced at the clock and noticed you had already slept the morning away so you decided to get something done.
You stretched your limbs and exited the bed, doing your usual routine and some chores as well, trying your best not to think about jake. If he wanted to stay mad, so be it.
When you were cleaning the living room’s floor you heard your doorbell ring, so you went to open the door.
In front of you a tall man with a sheepish grin stood, waving his hand “Hi, Y/N.” He greeted warmly
“Hi, Sunghoon.” You said back, stepping aside to let him enter. you closed the door behind your back and walked him to the living room “What’s the occasion?” You asked, smiling
Sunghoon looked around the house “Is Jake home?” You shook your head in reply “He’s on a work trip.”
Sunghoon’s eyes widened “Again?” He asked and you couldn’t help but chuckle, you two had the same reaction to the news of Jake's departure “Again.” You nodded
“Aw, man.” He sighed, “I haven’t seen him in forever since he changed job.” You wanted to reply that you too hadn’t seen him since he decided to pick a job that required to travel around the world, but Sunghoon didn’t need to know that.
Sunghoon tilted his head, looking you up and down “So, home alone?” You smiled sadly “unfortunately.”
He gave you a wide smile, one that showed his two fangs “I took a couple of weeks off work because I had to go on vacation but the hotel shut down,” He seemed to debate whether to continue, but then added “I can keep you company.”
You blinked faintly at his offer, you two weren’t really close, you never really hung out apart from Jake’s friend group so it’d be awkward.
However , loneliness made you desperate so you just smiled in return “why not?”
Little did you know that Sunghoon had another plan in store for you.
⪩⪨
“Good morning, Y/N.” Sunghoon greeted a few days later, entering your house with his awkward yet comforting demeanour.
“Morning.” You said back, guiding him to the kitchen and placing down the casket of fruits he had brought you “You didn’t have to..”
“Dot’t be silly, it’s a pleasure.” Sunghoon smiled, sitting on a chair “Can i help you with anything?”
You quickly shook your head “No, no,” You took a pear and showed it to him “I'll cut this so we can eat and chat?” “Sounds good.”
It had become a small occurence that you’d sit together and talk about anything. You two had got to know each other, and you realised you had a completely different prejudice of him.
At first, you thought he was cold and awkward, but he actually was very soft spoken and kind. your heart always felt content when you were with him, but you chose to ignore that detail.
It was probably just because Jake hadn’t replied to your texts since he left the country, your heart was just pulling tricks on you.
You placed a small plate on the table with the pieces of pear and began to talk with him, laughing at a story of his dog scaring Jake's family dog, despite being a lot smaller.
“Layla and Jake are so alike,” You commented, chuckling “Indeed, I see no difference between them. like an owner like a pet." Sunghoon replied, taking a bite of the pear.
A small drop of the fruit’s juice rolled down his cheek, reaching his jawline. You had never paid attention to his features so closely, but he was so attractive. His jaw was sharp, you thought that if you ran your finger on it, it’d cut.
His skin was pale, porcelain-like and his eyes were so dark in contrast, his eyebrows thick and hair that seemed so fluffy.
Before the drop could fall down, you quickly extended yourself and dried it with your thumb, making both of you stop in your tracks. Sunghoon ‘s deep eyes widened and you pulled away “I—I’m sorry..” you stuttered, embarrassed
But Sunghoon didn’t seem to mind “It’s alright, thank you.” He reassured, resuming to tell his story. You try to shake the awkward feeling but get sidetracked when your phone screen lit up.
You quickly took it, hopeful that it was finally a message from your boyfriend, but your face fell when you realised it was just a notification from YouTube.
You sighed and looked so gloomy, like a whole storm fell over your shoulders, Sunghoon blinked faintly “Are you ok?”
You didn’t want to annoy him with your problems, you two had just started to be friends, but you just needed someone.
All your friends were busy working or living their adulthood somewhere, while you had been inside that house too much it felt almost sickish.
You sighed “It’s just that Jake and I had a small argument, right before he left.” Sunghoon’s eyes were so attentive you felt exposed, so kind and gentle.
“Is that so?” He asked, letting you know that he was listening “Yes,” You breathed out “We said harsh things and now he won’t even reply to my texts.”
Sunghoon’s jaw clenched at your admission, How could Jake ever ghost you? He could be mad all he wanted, but he was on the other side of the earth, for Christ’s sake, he could at least reply to your texts just like he did to Sunghoon a few hours before.
Seeing you so sorrowful made his heart ache; he wouldn’t admit it out loud but he had always found you attractive, since the first day he saw you on campus.
Screw his introverted personality, he never tried to speak to you, only admired from afar.
However, when he learnt that his best friend had found a girlfriend and the so-called girlfriend was you, he couldn’t help but blame himself.
Especially since jake was treating you like you weren’t worth anything.
You were worth it, you were everything Sunghoon dreamt of— if only you knew how better he could get you. good for him, he had two weeks to prove you so.
⪩⪨
“You just didn’t strike me as someone who likes doing grocery shopping.” You commented, putting milk inside the cart Sunghoon was gently pushing for you
Truth to be told, Sunghoon hated grocery shopping. He’d rather starve himself than get out of bed to buy himself food, which was why his friend Jay and his mother would often bring him food or just something enough to survive.
But it was for you and you needed to eat to be healthy, he could do an exception.
“I don’t have anything better to do, do I?” He said, chuckling at the sight of you trying to take a bag of chips which was on the top shelf, clearly too high for you.
You felt his figure hovering over you, the warmth of his body surrounding yours, his chest caressing your back as he took the chip for you.
That movement lasted no longer than five seconds but to you, it felt as if time had stopped.
You snapped out of your trance at the sound of the bag of chips being thrown inside the cart and Sunghoon moving forward.
You failed to notice the smirk on his lips, but the man was quick to hide it before his undercover was caught.
“What’s left on your list?” He asked, scanning the cart’s contents to see if he mentally remembered
“Uh—“ You quickly took the grocery list that was crumpled inside your pocket and cleared your throat “Just… donuts.” You said quietly.
You weren’t usually one to overeat, but since your heart was upset, your stomach was the same and you craved junk food.
You waited for Sunghoon to make a comment over it, to call you ‘gross’ the same way Jake once did when he saw you putting a bag of chips — the same type Sunghoon helped you take — inside the cart. You waited for it, but nothing came.
Instead, Sunghoon pushed the cart a little further in the lane until he reached the snacks section and eyed the shelves “There’s strawberry, brown chocolate and oreo.” He turned toward you and looked genuinely interested in your choice.
“Which one do you want?” You blinked faintly, unsure on how to handle that situation. He raised a brow, awaiting your answer “Strawberry.” You murmured.
“Strawberry it is.” He took the donuts and placed them in the cart “Do you want something?” You asked, reaching for him with a smile.
“Me?” You nodded in reply “Yes, take something you like, I’ll sugar mama you.” You joked nudging his shoulder.
Sunghoon stayed silent a few beats, “No.” He said sternly, “I’ll buy this for you.” He pointed to the food you wanted to purchase.
Your brows furrowed “What?” Sunghoon smiled, a wicked grin creeping on his lips “I’ll sugar daddy you.”
It seemed like you had hurt his pride trying to say you’d pay for his food, but you still didn’t want him to spend money on you, so you shook your head “That’s not necessary.”
“I insist.” He took another small cartoon of donuts and placed it in the cart, hurrying away before you could talk back. You reached him again “No, Sunghoon.”
“Yes, Y/N.” He kept taking useless things from the shelves and you kept putting them back, this went on for almost two whole lanes until you placed yourself in front of the cart.
Sunghoon tilted his head “What?” You narrowed your eyes, clearly upset. Seeing your change of mood made Sunghoon freeze. Did he overdo it?
He let out a small sigh “Alright, I’ll stop adding things.” You nodded satisfactorily, placing yourself back by his side.
“But I’ll pay.” Your head snapped back to him and Sunghoon chuckled “It’s the least I can do, you invite me to your house and I pay for your groceries, it’s even.”
Arguing with Sunghoon seemed to be a losing battle, so you just nodded your head and smiled back at him “Okay, thank you.”
“Anything for you.” They were just three words, but they were the most sincere you’ve ever heard.
After paying for your groceries, you two made your way towards the parking lot, you walked in front of a window, a crimson short dress on a mannequin.
You stopped to glance at it for a few seconds, your eyes sparkling. Sunghoon noticed you stopping and took a few steps back “Like it?” He asked, smiling at you
You were so stunned you just nodded in reply, eyes still glued to the dress. It seemed so perfect, sleeveless and not too short but not too long as well. You could see strings on the back, leaving it a little exposed.
“You want to try it?” At his question you snapped out of thoughts, turning to face Sunghoon (who was also a rather nice view).
“No, no, we should go home.” Sunghoon frowned at your reply “But you like it.”
You sighed softly and chuckled “Yes, but that doesn’t mean I should try it.” He eyed the dress and then you, studying you from head to toe “Even if I want to see you in it?”
His words took you by surprise and you widened your eyes “W-what?” He smirked, his fangs showing from the corner of his lips “Let’s enter.” He took your hand and dragged you inside the shop.
He sat on a small sofa in front of the dressing room, patiently waiting for you to try that dress on.
The way your eyes seemed to light up made him want to buy you anything if it meant to see your pretty face smile and be bright.
He knew you were still shaken from your argument with Jake, and by the fact that the bastard was obviously ghosting you, and he’d do anything to take that sorrow away from you.
“Ready?” He asked after a few minutes of not hearing anything from you.
You carefully opened the curtain and lord if he didn’t get an erection on the spot.
Seeing that tiny dress hugging your perfect curves, the shy blush on your cheeks and still that perfect smile on your lips “It’s so beautiful.” You commented
“Give me a twirl.” He asked and you complied, twirling gracefully “You’re beautiful.” Your smile lit up the whole room, you nodded in reply “I think it’s pretty nice.”
Sunghoon stood up and walked toward you, his arms raising and taking your hair away from your back.
The proximity between you two made your breath hitch once again. You could smell his manly cologne and the fabric softener of his hoodie.
“This should be tied.” He murmured in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. His breath hit your skin, so warm. You closed your eyes, waiting for him to finish tying the lace behind your back.
He placed your hair back where they were and placed one strand behind your ear. He pulled away satisfied and smiled “Now, that’s even better.”
You looked at yourself in the mirror of the dressing room and Sunghoon brought his hands on your shoulder. He leaned beside your ear and whispered huskily “Let me buy it for you.”
Your brows shot up and you quickly shook your head “I can’t let you do that.” Sunghoon gave you a mesmerising smile from the mirror “Why not?”
“Because you already paid for the groceries.” Sunghoon tsked at your reasoning “And?”
“And it’d be too much if you also bought this dress. Besides, I don’t even have a reason to wear it.”
“We’ll make one.” You felt a sudden rush of coldness when his breath left your skin and he stepped away “It’s settled, I’ll buy it.”
You turned around, “But—“ He brought a finger to your lips “Sh, I said I’d sugar daddy you and I always keep my word.”
⪩⪨
Y/N: Please Jake, can you reply to me?
Y/N: It’s been five days, at least let me know you’re fine.
You sighed and dropped the phone on the mattress beside you, tired of reading ‘delivered’ beside your messages. Had you crossed the line when you argued? Personally, you thought what Jake said was far worse, but you were ready to forgive him if only he swallowed his pride.
You bit your bottom lip, your body craving to be touched and screaming for release.
Not only had you and Jake not spent time together, but it had also been more than a month since you last had sex.
You tried to ignore your primal urges, however your hips unconsciously moved back and forth, trying to soothe the aching feeling between your legs.
Your breath got heavier as you let your palm wander under your nightgown, touching, trying to turn yourself on.
You bit your bottom lip, your hand reaching down to touch your clit, circling it with your fingers; using your slick to wet it more.
You slid one digit inside of you, fingering yourself for what seems like ten minutes, trying to find that one spot that makes your head spin— it didn’t feel good.
You decided to try and squeeze your breasts, fingering yourself at a fast speed… nothing seemed to work out.
Frustrated, you pulled your fingers out and curled yourself in a small ball, checking your phone just to see that again, Jake had not texted you.
At that moment, a new message popped on your screen.
Sunghoon: Hey Y/N, movie night tomorrow?
You unconsciously smiled and replied with a positive answer, feeling strangely giddy at the thought of having another plan with him.
Y/N: Sounds good.
It didn’t take much for him to text you back, only a few seconds needed.
Sunghoon: Awesome. Tomorrow @ 9pm?
Y/N: Yup. I’ll make sure to do some pop corns.
Sunghoon: Haha ok
You turned off the lights, placed the phone back on the bedside table and tucked yourself under the covers, ready to fall asleep when it buzzed again.
You took it, the screen light too bright for your poor eyes. You narrowed them, trying to read the new messages
Sunghoon: What are you doing now?
Your cheeks flushed at the thought of what you had been doing before he texted you.
Y/N: About to sleep
Sunghoon: Aw :(
Y/N: Why the sad face?
Sunghoon chuckled at your innocence and kind self. He bit his bottom lip and leaned back on the chair, typing his reply.
Sunghoon: I was playing a game and wanted some company.
Y/N: I’m not really sleepy
His eyebrows raised, he thought you’d just turn him off.
Maybe his plan was working.
Sunghoon: Can I call you?
You jolted up, sitting on the bed and looking around in panic.
Y/N: Voice call?
Sunghoon: Anything you want, x
The way Sunghoon was treating you wasn’t the way you treated fiends, but you decided not to overthink it much. Sunghoon’s contact name flashed on your screen as he called you.
You cleared your throat and tapped on the green button.
“Hey,” His voice came out as hoarse from the other line “Hi.” You whispered back, hugging your knees to your chest and fidgeting with the sheets
You could hear some keyboard tapping and asked “What are you playing?” Sunghoon chuckled “League of Legends.”
You hummed “I’ve never played.” Sunghoon let out a sound of disbelief “Never? Jake never let you play with him?”
Jake would always complain when you ever interrupted his gaming nights with friends, “No.” You replied simply.
“Shoot!” He exclaimed from the other line, making you jump in surprise and gasp “Sorry about that— I didn’t mean to startle you.” He was quick to apologise.
“It’s okay,” You reassured, not wanting him to feel guilty about that. “So, how was your day?”
You two started talking about everything and anything, laughing and just enjoying each other's company.
You hadn’t even realised you had fallen asleep, your light snores and deep breaths probably became Sunghoon’s favourite sounds.
Because he never hung up, not until you woke up the next morning and did it yourself.
⪩⪨
Something didn’t feel quite right that day, you let Sunghoon inside your apartment and the two of you prepared the living room for the movie night… but he had something different. Perhaps, the other night something changed between you two.
Maybe it was his not-combed hair, all fluffy and wild, or the white tee he was wearing that showed the shadow of his muscles and abs— or maybe the grey sweats he was wearing. You gulped down, it was you, you were the one off.
Not cumming for so much time did tricks to your brain.
You decided to ignore it and you two sat side by side, but still keeping distance “What movie do you wanna watch?”
Sunghoon asked, lazily eating a pop corn while scrolling through Netflix “Cause I had one in mind, but we can watch something else if you want.”
You hummed “What did you have in mind?” Your voice was softer and quieter, making Sunghoon feel goosebumps all over his skin.
Oh, the effect you had on him.
He took one pillow and sneakingly placed it on his laps, hoping it wasn’t obvious that he was trying to cover his growing bulge.
“How to lose a guy in ten days?” He asked, faking innocence when you widened your eyes and physically squeaked “I love that movie!”
“Is that so?” Sunghoon asked but he already knew the answer. you had said that one day when you were having a group hang out with the others.
He remembered, actually, he remembered every detail of you— even the ones you may think of stupid.
“Then, let’s watch it.” He said and clicked play, the movie beginning peacefully.
It all went alright until Sunghoon’s knee got closer and closer, touching yours.
He acted oblivious, focusing on the scene unfolding in front of him but he was painfully aware of you.
Maybe it was also because of your exposed thighs, the shorts hugging your legs so perfectly, making him almost drool. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.
Seeing that you didn’t reject his touch, Sunghoon grew a little bolder and placed his hand on your thigh, caressing it.
An alarm inside your conscience screamed danger! stop! but something told you that his touch was safe, soothing and so attractive.
Your mind went to Jake, how he would react if he ever saw your best friend touching your thigh, too close to where he shouldn’t be touching.
Nonetheless, Jake was so far away and Sunghoon so close to you, his hand slowly creeping closer to where you ached, where you just needed him.
Your breath hitched and your stiff state made sunghoon smirk sly. his plan was working smoothly.
His hand squeezed the flesh beside your thigh as your gaze was still fixed on the tv; however your attention was all on the coldness of his fingers, the way they felt on your skin.
“Sunghoon.” You wanted to say sternly but only a small whisper left your lips “Hmm?” He hummed, his dark eyes back on you
You gulped down and turned your head to meet his face, you glanced at the hand on your thigh and shook your head “You should stop.”
“Stop?” Sunghoon asked, his voice teasing and soft “It seems to me that you are enjoying my touch.”
Deny was what your brain told you to do but his hand moved even closer, resting just below the hem on your shorts.
Your hesitation made Sunghoon’s smirk turn more cunning, “What is on your mind?” He asked, his position shifting so his whole body was facing yours, the pillow falling on the floor.
You didn’t move a bit.
“That it’s weird…” You murmured “What you’re doing.”
“Yeah?” He cooed “And why do you think that?” He asked and his finger tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, making a small tint of blush appear on your cheeks
You weren’t naïve, you knew what Sunghoon was hinting at with his actions and words.
You knew it, yet you didn’t want it to stop.
“Because Jake wouldn’t like it.” At your words, Sunghoon’s smirk fell.
You were loyal and that was admirable, but it was only because his best friend made a move on you first, before he built the courage to talk to you.
Though Jake wasn’t treating you like you deserved, like Sunghoon would.
“Don’t think about him,” He said, his voice harsher than he intended to “Think about me.”
You watched him with hooded eyes as his hand that was tucking the small strand of hair behind your ear slowly slid down your shoulder.
Your heart was pounding so hard you could feel it in your throat and your breath heavier than before.
“This is wrong.” You whispered, unable to voice out the coherent thoughts forming in your brain with his hands touching you ever so gently “we shouldn’t do this.”
Sunghoon gave you a smile that was meant to be reassuring even if it was just victorious.
He knew you’d give in to him, sooner or later.
“It's wrong only if Jake finds out.” He looked down at your body, the way your nipples hardened and their outline could be seen from the shirt, he licked his bottom lip “Besides, don’t act like you don’t want it to happen as well.”
Silence filled the room except for the sound of the long forgotten movie, Sunghoon could sense your hesitation and your pretty brain overthinking, so he let out a small sigh “I’ll try something, you can tell me to stop if you don’t want to.” He said but remained still, waiting for your permission
“Try what?” You asked, your voice so soft and quiet it made his cock harden inside his sweats
“This.'' His voice sounded more like a growl, Sunghoon cupped the back of your neck while his other hand hooked around your waist, bringing you close; his lips connected to your neck, leaving wet kisses all over.
You instantly closed your eyes and a shaky breath left your lips, Sunghoon took it as a clue to add more pressure and suck small spots, careful not to do anything sudden.
One of your hands raised and placed on his forearm, feeling the muscle of his arm, Sunghoon smirked on your skin and detached himself just enough to talk “Do you want to stop?”
You sighed softly and grasped his hair with your other hand, bringing his mouth down on your neck “Keep going.” You said and sunghoon felt as if he was the luckiest man on earth.
His kisses grew hungrier, not leaving even a single spot untouched by his lips. one hand grasped your hair back, bringing it back to have more room while the other groped your breasts from outside the shirt.
You squeezed your thighs together, trying to find relief. “N-no marks.” you said as he sucked a spot for too long, he pulled away and bit his bottom lip, repressing a chuckle “Too late.”
Before you could reply, his lips found yours in a heated and desperate kiss, it was so wrong but it felt too right to stop.
You let your hands slip under his shirt and roam freely, feeling his sculpted chest under your palms, earning a deep groan from sunghoon.
His tongue slipped inside your mouth, he was the one in control of the kiss but you didn’t mind. You just craved to be taken care of.
He pulled away from you and began to lift your shirt up, too eager to feel your whole body— to make you his even if you didn’t belong to him.
He threw the shirt on the floor and widened his eyes as he saw your naked upper body.
Sunghoon stared in trance at you, but it made you feel self conscious and your arms wrapped around your chest.
Sunghoon frowned, taking your hands away “Never,” He murmured, kissing your lips once more “Never cover yourself from me, understand?” You nodded in response “Yes, Hoon.”
He squeezed your tit and lowered his lips to the other one, sucking on your abused nipple “Such pretty tits.” He commented and you unconsciously grind on the sofa, the wetness of your pussy glistening your panties.
He left one breast to pay attention to the other, sucking and flicking his tongue on it, making you whine “Mhhh.. Hoon.” You encouraged him to continue
Sunghoon smirked and looked at you, moving your hips while your eyes were closed and your mouth slightly opened, soft whimpers exiting it.
“Lay down, princess.” He ordered and you complied. His voice was so low and demanding you thought you’d do anything he asked without contemplating anything. Maybe he truly did a spell on you.
His fingers hooked under the hem of your shorts and he looked at your eyes, waiting for your approval. “Don’t ask,”
You said, trusting him and knowing he’d stop if you ever asked, but Aunghoon pecked your lips “Are you sure you want this?” He asked, because no matter how hard he wanted you, he’d never force himself on you.
You nodded, your mind hazy and you body in need to be touched “Yes— I need you, Hoon.” Your soft pleading made blood rush straight to his cock, the visible bulge pocking through his pants.
“Fuck, Y/N.” He groaned and pulled your shorts down, discarding them on the floor “You’ll be the death of me.” He stared at your body like you were a sculpture to admire at a museum, his hand tracing your curves.
“My gorgeous baby,” Sunghoon noticed the wet patch on your panties and smirked widely “So wet for me? We haven’t even started.” He cooed as he tucked the hem down, leaving you completely bare in front of him.
With one finger he gathered your juices and took his digit inside his mouth, humming in approval “Tastes good, so fucking good.”
At such a sight you couldn’t help but let out a small whine “Hoon..” You murmured and his attention immediately snapped back at you “Yes, baby?”
You moved your hips closer to him “Touch me please.” And how could he say no when you asked so politely?
“Want me to touch you?” His finger went down and played with your clit, making you arch your back “Want me to make you feel good, s’that what you want baby?”
He cooed, one finger slipping inside your needy and wet hole, your walls squeezing around it “Fuck, you’re so tight.”
He frowned, working his finger in and out your hole while you moaned under him “Does jake even touch you, uh?” He scoffed
He added another finger, keeping your legs opened with his other hand.
The movements of his fingers inside of you made you see stars, he was so skilled it almost made you forget you had a boyfriend that should do such filthy things to your body.
Not that you cared at that moment, and neither did Sunghoon.
Your hips moved back and forth to match his digits, deep inside of you.
He curled them and caressed your g-spot, making you squeeze your eyes and pant heavily “Faster.” You asked “Please Sunghoon— feels s’good.” His fingers moved faster and faster, the knot in your stomach about to snap when he abruptly pulled away.
You opened your eyes and whined, looking at him with a huge frown which made Sunghoon smile.
You were so cute like that, face all flushed in desperate need to cum “Don’t worry.” He reassured, pulling his sweat and boxers away “Just wanted you to cum all over my cock.”
You smiled but it soon transformed into a huge jaw drop as you saw how big and fat his cock was. it pulsed, angry red and thick, up on his stomach.
Sunghoon chuckled at your reaction, “Too big for you?” He asked, taking your chin in his hands and bringing your face slightly closer to him “Jake isn’t as big as me, is he?”
“That’s… never gonna fit.” You whispered, embarrassed “We’ll see that.” He pulled your head down on the sofa again and he fisted his shaft, your juices that still coated his fingers acting as lube.
He pressed the tip of his dick by your entrance, teasing it “Hurry.” You whined
Sunghoon smirked “Such a needy girl,” He scowled at you and pushed his cock into you in one deep thrust, making you gasp. you felt so stretched, your walls hugging his member, making his eyes roll back “Shit, princess,” He panted “You’re really so tight,” he pushed himself deeper, already bottoming out.
You whined in a mixture of pain and pleasure, gripping the sofa beneath you, Sunghoon noticed you and connected your lips with his, trying to distract you “Relax,” He cooed, one of his hands caressing your forehead with his thumb “It’s all good, you’re doing so well.”
His sweet words made you instantly relax, you looked at him through your teary eyes and he smiled warmly, pecking your lips once more.
He started moving inside of you, slowly at first and when the pain subdued to pleasure, you moaned “S’deep,” You breathed out, gripping his arm.
Sunghoon couldn’t hold back anymore, his hips started moving faster, your skin slapping together as he tsked “Bet he can’t fuck you like i do,”
He circled your clit with his free hand, while his other snuck around your neck, adding small pressure, just enough to make your mind hazy.
He groaned, trying his best not to cum right there as he heard your sweet moans, your tits moving back and forth alongside your body as he pushed his cock so deep he could see the shadow his bulge in your stomach.
“I’m the only one who can fuck you like you deserve,” He kept saying nonsense while you laid under him, the knot in your stomach about to snap.
You nodded at his statement, not registering his words at all “Hoon— s’close, i’m close.” You said, your voice cracked and quiet.
“I know baby,” He circled your clit faster “Can feel you squeeze me— fuck— squeeze my cock.” He threw his head back to move the bangs sticking to his sweaty forehead, revealing an image of every girl’s erotic dream.
He felt your walls squeezing his cock, signalling that you were about to fall apart and so he hurried his movements “Don’t cum yet,” He ordered but you shook your head, unable to resist anymore as you came, your orgasm hitting like a crashing wave, making your body squirm underneath him.
Sunghoon slowed his thrusts but never faltered, he helped you ride out of your high until you were able to open your eyes again, your breath so heavy.
He kissed your lips, holding your chin in his fingers while he resumed his speed, trying to reach his own release
You moaned louder, probably even your neighbours could hear you but Sunghoon pushed you to overstimulation, “Gonna cum, just a little more baby.” He panted, gripping both your hips and rutting inside of you until he pulled out and came all over your chest and body, shots of white seed painting you.
You spread it all over yourself, waiting for him to calm down as the realisation of what you had just done hit both of you.
You exchanged no words but Sunghoon carefully scooped your figure from the sofa and carried you bridal style to the bathroom, making you sit as he prepared you a warm bath.
“Hoon..” you murmured, guilt eating you alive. Sunghoon turned around and saw the state you were in.
Ignoring the hard-on he had again at the sight of you all dirty in his cum, he pressed a featherlight kiss on your forehead “Don’t overthink it,” He said gently “it’ll be alright if he doesn’t know, and you can keep a secret, can’t you?”
Sunghoon asked and you nodded “That’s a good girl.” He pecked your lips but you brought him into a deeper kiss and before you knew, his tongue was inside your mouth again.
He reluctantly pulled away, shaking his head, feeling like he’d be taking advantage of you.
Sunghoon closed the tab of the bath and helped you in, despite your legs that were like jelly, you felt refreshed and happier.
He let go of your hand but you didn’t, keeping it secured in yours. He looked at you with a puzzled expression.
“Get inside.” You beckoned to the bath and he shook his head again “I’ll take a shower later.”
You pouted “Let’s save water.” Your eyes were so soft and glossy he couldn’t help but comply and he entered the bathtub with you.
Nedless to say, you found yourself on his laps, needy grinding against his hard cock as you two made out with the warm water around you both.
Maybe you could do more than that while Jake was away.
⪩⪨
The next morning you woke up to a strange sensation between your thighs, it felt hot but also good, waves of pleasure rushing through your body.
You slowly opened your eyes and looked down, seeing a ruffled head buried between your legs, two strong hands pinning you down the bed.
“Hoon..” You breathed out, your mind still hazy and eyes too heavy to keep open.
Sunghoon momentarily detached himself from your cunt, your wetness coating his chin “Mh, hey princess.” He smiled as if he wasn’t eating you out for breakfast “Just relax, let me take care of you.”
You already weak heart melted at his statement and you just nodded, resting your head back on the pillow while Sunghoon flicked his tongue on your tongue, stimulating it with his fingers as well.
You closed your eyes and placed one hand behind sunghoon’s head, grasping his hair, trying to bring him closer, needing him closer.
The phone on your bedside table started ringing, making you take it and frustratedly checking who was ruining your moment.
You would’ve jerked away if it wasn’t for Sunghoon’s grip at the sight of Jake’s contact name “It’s Jake.” You half-whispered, half-screamed, trying to pull Sunghoon’s head away from your pussy.
He reluctantly let go and nodded “Answer.” Though his tone said that was the last thing he wanted you to do. With shaky hands, you took the call and placed the phone beside your ear “Hello?”
“Y/N, hi… it’s morning there, did I wake you up?” Jake’s voice seemed to foreign to your ears it felt strange at first; as you were about to reply, Sunghoon’s lips attached to your pussy once more, making you gasp.
“You good?” Jake asked from the other line, worry lacing his tone “All good!” You exclaimed, a little too high pitched.
No matter how hard you grasped Sunghoon’s hair, the man was not going to pull away from your pussy and the way he pinned you more down on the bed confirmed your thoughts.
Instead, you bit your bottom lip and tried your best not to give away the pleasure your boyfriend’s best friend was giving you. “Listen, I'm so sorry.” You frowned, confused “What are you sorry for?”
A whimper died down your throat when Jake answered “How I left things, I shouldn’t have ignored your texts..” He sighed softly “I was just mad, I needed some time alone, but it isn’t an excuse.”
No, it wasn’t, but you had forgotten about the fight thanks to Sunghoon’s magic bed skills, so you just shrugged it off.
“I understand.” You breathed out as Sunghoon inserted a finger into your sticky walls, fingering you while his tongue worked on your clit.
Jake sighed at your answer “I said hurtful things to you, can you forgive me?” You moved your hips, fucking yourself on sunghoon’s tongue, earning a hum of approval that sent waves through your body.
“Yes,” you replied, though you didn’t know if it was meant for Jake’s question or to incite Sunghoon in his act “Really?”
Jake’s voice sounded surprised, you usually took things personally, so why brush it all off? He wasn’t going to complain, though.
“How are things going there?” He asked “Alright,” You murmured, Sunghoon’s skilled tongue making you see stars.
“There?” You managed to ask without letting your voice shake when Sunghoon added a second digit inside of you, curling them like he had already memorised where your sweet spot was.
And he probably did.
“Well.” Jake chuckled “But I miss you so much,” You felt a pang of guilt, because since Sunghoon occupied your daily life, your mind had started to drift toward Jake less.
“Miss you too,” You whispered, your words making Sunghoon’s fingers move faster. You bit down on your fist to prevent yourself from making unwanted noises.
You heard a second voice from the other line but couldn’t quite understand what it said, and then Jake sighed sadly “I have to go baby, I'll text you when I finish this meeting.”
You hummed, your back arching “I love you.” Jake said sweetly and you answered with a quick “Me too.” Before hanging up, throwing the phone on the mattress.
You pulled sunghoon’s head away and pushed it on the bed, strangely he let you do it, not fighting you.
He laid on the bed while you crawled on top of him, hovering just above his face “You’re so hot when you’re pissed.” he teased, knowing that you would’ve been anxious about being discovered.
That was what added the thrill to Sunghoon, it would be boring otherwise.
“Shut up,” You shushed, lowering yourself on his lips and gripping his hair, pulling his lips on your pussy, the sweet sensation appearing again.
You bucked your hips down, riding his face while you moaned, trying to reach your orgasm.
Sunghoon’s tongue found your entrance, fucking your hole, drinking all your wetness like you were his last meal.
On other occasions you would've been scared of choking him, but with the pre-orgasm bliss, your selfishness appeared and you just worried about cumming.
His nose poked your clit, his tongue fucking in and out and his hums of approval to let you know that he was, at least, still breathing made you reach your high, legs shaking.
He helped you ride out of your orgasm, your breath still hard as you laid down on the bed again, chest raising up and down.
He sat up and kissed your lips, tasting your cum on his tongue “Morning, Y/N.” He murmured in a hoarse voice.
“Morning, Sunghoon.” It was the same thing you two had been telling each other for a week, only this time, it meant so much more.
⪩⪨
“Let me see them, come here.” He demanded as you two got home from your nail salon appointment, which he insisted on paying.
You smiled widely and walked closer to the sofa where he was sitting — or rather, manspreading — and happily showed him your pinkish nails.
“I love them.” You confessed, the small brush of Sunghoon’s thumb on your knuckles making your breath hitch “Pretty nails for a pretty girl.” He smirked when he noticed the effect he had on you.
Sunghoon was no innocent man, despite his shy appearance.
When he said he’d do anything for you, he meant it, even betray his best friend for you.
Maybe you didn’t want to dump him because Jake was, in fact, a good boyfriend if you didn’t count the bad moments you had together.
But Sunghoon was better than him, and he was planning on showing you.
He let go of your hand and patted his lap, beckoning you to sit on it.
Complying, you straddled him and wrapped your arms around his neck “But you didn’t have to pay for them.” You murmured, feeling guilty that he spent so much for you, along with the necklace and earrings he bought you as a gift
“Shhh,” He hushed you, pressing a finger on your lips, brushing his thumb over your bottom one.
“I want to spoil you baby, you deserve it.” His voice was barely a whisper, so deep and husky.
Your lips hitched with the urge you had to put them on his, kissing until you grew sick of it— but you couldn’t.
“Actually,” You mumbled and pulled away, just enough to resist your deepest thoughts “I don’t want to send you away, but Jake wanted to FaceTime me,” You gulped, fidgeting with his shirt
Sunghoon tilted his head, his hands securing around your waist, protectively keeping you close “So?”
“So, I thought it’d be better if he didn’t see you here.” You added, nodding at your own statement
Sunghoon frowned, “I can hide in the bathroom until you’re done.”
“Hoon— you’ve been sleeping here for four days..” His jaw ticked “Am I bothering you?”
You were quick to shake your head “No, never.” You bit your bottom lip, afraid to voice out your feelings since that useless argument you had with Jake
He sighed softly and took your chin in his fingers, making you look inside his eyes “What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, holding you so gently you thought you’d shatter right there and he’d be able to pick up all your pieces
“I—“ You shook your head, but Sunghoon’s grip tightened on your chin “Tell me.” He demanded, not harshly.
“I just… I don’t think Jake would like it if he knew about this and I feel so guilty.” Sunghoon felt his anger rise, because he wanted to tell you that your relationship was more off than on, he wanted to tell you to just break up with Jake and live with him, spend your day tucked under his protections so that no one could hurt you anymore.
But, you weren’t his and he couldn’t do anything about it… yet.
“What we’re doing isn’t bad, alright?” He tried to sooth your worry “We’re just two adults trying to satisfy each other’s needs,” Sunghoon licked his bottom lip, looking at your glossy and innocent eyes made his dick harden inside his jeans.
“And I want to take care of you..” He whispered, his hand slipping under your shirt, groping your breasts, earning a small whimper from you “Will you let me?”
Were the necklace and earrings he gave you cursed? Because no matter how much you knew this was wrong, you only craved for more.
“Yes,” You whispered, “I want to make you feel good too.” Sunghoon’s eyes softened, you were so cute and innocent and so his to ruin “Is that so, princess?” You nodded in response
“Want to make me feel good?” You hummed and Sunghoon got close to your ear, purring “Get on your knees.”
You complied right away, climbing down his laps and placing yourself between his legs “Need those pretty hands around my cock,” He said and you unzipped his jeans, palming his already hard length through the fabric
“Do you know how to give a blow?” He scoffed, almost being degrading “I bet Jake couldn’t even teach you properly.” Sunghoon caressed the side of your cheek and then his hand gripped your hair, pulling your head toward his hips “Hurry up, sweetheart.”
Not wanting to make him wait, you quickly pulled the hem of his boxers down and let them fall to his ankles.
His cock sprung free, veiny and thick, you let your tongue trace it, giving kitten licks to the tip.
Sunghoon groaned, holding your hair up to a semi-ponytail so they wouldn’t bother you.
You circled your tongue all over the tip, tasting his bittersweet precum.
“Stop teasing.” he warned, pulling your hair back and looking into your eyes, his tone softening, “Understood, baby?” You nodded in approval and took him whole inside your mouth in one swift movement, his long shaft hitting the back of your throat, making you gag.
He ard your slight gag but the sensation of your warm mouth wrapped around him was enough to cloud his mind. you bobbed your head back and forth, filthy sounds filling the room.
“Shit princess, you feel so good.” He groaned “Mh— could just cum right here.” His praising fuelled your confidence, so you gripped both his hips and moved your head faster, trying to provide him pleasure
You palmed his balls as well, gripping them gently as Sunghoon let out a low moan, throwing his head back on the headboard on the sofa.
You spied him from your eyelashes, he looked like the epitome of erotic: mouth hanging open, eyebrows furrowed and eyes squeezed shut.
He pushed your mouth further, trying to bottom out when your phone started ringing. You got distracted, looking to the side, about to pull away as you knew it was Jake.
“Don’t you dare.” Sunghoon groaned, standing up and pushing his cock deep inside your throat, you gagged, it being too big to fit.
You tried to push him away to catch your breath but Sunghoon didn’t seem to care. Only when he saw your teary eyes did he give you the chance to breathe.
You panted heavily, spit rolling down your cheeks and wetting your shirt.
Your ringtone started once again and Sunghoon watched you wild his eyes, he took your chin in his hands and raised a brow “You going to answer?”
Your eyes were glossy and the tip of your nose red, you shook your head in reply “That’s what I thought.” he smirked and yanked you by your hair, snatching them to push his fat cock inside your mouth once again.
The way you were just staring at him with those eyes made him grin, the sweat dripping down his forehead added a small spark to the whole situation.
Your phone rang once more and he let out an annoyed groan, taking it in his hands “Maybe I should just show your boyfriend what you’re doing right now, uh?” You panicked and shook your head, trying to pull away from him.
“Keep sucking,” he warned, maintaining his grip on your hair. He showed your phone screen to you, Jake’s contact name appearing before your eyes.
You murmured, trying to tell him not to do anything reckless but that only sent waves of pleasure to his length.
“Shit Y/N.” he panted, throwing your phone back on the sofa, not caring about its ringtone anymore.
“Always ruining the moment, that fucker.” He murmured, holding your head with both his hands and pushing his dick in and out your warm and went mouth
“I’m so close baby,” You nodded, dropping your arms on your side and letting him do what he needed to reach his high. His moans were low, more like growls which made the wetness between your legs grow more uncomfortable as time passed.
You liked when he acted so possessive, when he acted like you belonged to him.
You wished you did.
“Fuck, Fuck, Fuck.” He chanted, eyes rolling back “Such a good girl for me,” He groaned once more, pushing one last time, deeper until released his seed inside your mouth.
He took deep breaths, trying to calm down “Swallow.” Sunghoon ordered, his eyes so dark and red.
You gulped down and then stuck out your tongue to show him that no trace of his cum was left “Good girl.” He smiled, helping you up.
He helped you up and was about to pull your body closer when you shook your head “What’s wrong?” He asked, confused at your sudden coldness
You glanced at your phone on the sofa and smiled faintly “I think I should call Jake back.” You took it and bit your bottom lip, “I’ll be back later.”
You didn’t spare Sunghoon a glance and just disappeared in your bedroom, closing the door behind your back, leaving Sunghoon in the living room with the realisation that your heart still belonged to Jake.
⪩⪨
Jake was a total asshole. He had always known that, but realisation hit him the moment he saw you coming out of that room bawling your eyes out.
Despite not wanting to tell him, he had a feeling it meant Jake’s foul mouth said things he shouldn’t have.
And as he rocked you to sleep, whispering sweet nothings while gently caressing your body, he was more than determined to take you away.
What made it worse was that you took your time to clean the drool from your cheeks, combed your tangled hair and even put some mascara on to be pretty.
Jake didn’t even consider that, or didn’t try to think how happy you’d be to talk to him and harshly destroyed your mood.
The next morning you woke up feeling groggy, your eyes were puffy and tear stains lined down your cheeks.
You looked at yourself in the mirror and sighed, trying to fix the damage that was your appearance.
After washing your face and doing your needs, you exited the bathroom thinking you’d be alone and mentally preparing to make something for yourself to eat when you came across a tall male figure cooking.
You stopped in your tracks, eyes wide as you drank him in. Sunghoon was toasting something with the pan, his forearms flexing as he twisted the bread.
He was quietly humming a melody, quiet enough not to wake you up, the smell of caramel and first loves filling the air.
You felt a sudden peace of mind, dreaming about waking up like this every day, lazy sunday mornings spent in, cuddling and just being with each other.
Your dream was crushed when you remembered you actually had someone to do that with you, and he wasn’t Sunghoon.
You walked towards him and hugged his waist, your small arms wrapped around his toned torso. He stiffed for a second before realising it was you “Morning sleepyhead.”
“Morning Hoon.” You said back, snuggling your face closer to his back. He turned off the stove and turned around, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling your body closer
“Slept well?” Sunghoon asked, placing the palm of his hand on your cheek, his thumb giving it gentle strokes.
The way he talked and looked had you so weak and vulnerable and the only place you wanted to be in was the space between his arms, pressed in so close and so tight.
“Yes, thanks to you.” You gave him a sincere smile. His lips twitch up into a smile and you can feel the warmth of his gaze on your face.
He shook his head and placed a featherlight kiss on your head “I did nothing, really.” He did what Jake should’ve done, instead he chose to be the reason for your hurting.
You were about to answer when he held your waist tightly and placed you to sit on the kitchen counter, you blinked faintly in confusion. Sunghoon smiled and pecked your nose “Breakfast will be done soon.” He announced, winking at you.
He turned back to the stove and placed the toasts on a small plate; he walked to the fridge and took some jam along with butter.
You followed all his movements with your gaze, noticing how his muscles twitched at his every movement. He was wearing a t-shirt that was supposed to be Jake’s, though you had to admit it looked way better on Sunghoon. You shook your head, getting rid of those (not so) untrue allegations.
Sunghoon finished making the toasts and turned towards you, his fang smile so addictive. “Are you hungry?” He asked “I made toast and found strawberries in the fridge.”
“I think you’d like to eat something else.” You murmured, voice still hoarse from sleeping.
Sunghoon’s gaze darkened as he registered your words, placing himself between your legs “And what is it?” He questioned, face so close to yours you could feel his hot breath hitting your skin
With one hand you held yourself on the counter and wrapped the other around Sunghoon’s neck.
You two had only four more days together, and you chose to make the best of them.
You’d deal with Jake when he came back and could talk face to face.
“I have a perfect meal for you.” You smirked, looking down at your lower body. Sunghoon let out a soft sigh, his bulge already poking from his shorts “My favourite.”
His palm traced all the way from your breasts, down to your stomach and hem of the shorts.
He slipped one finger inside and cursed under his breath when he realised you were wearing no underwear
You chuckled at his reactions and Sunghoon attacked your lips with his, sucking on your bottom lip, making you squirm.
He squeezed your breasts and simultaneously played with your clit, touching you in only ways he could.
He detached his lips from yours and lowered himself, kneeling in front of you.
He kissed your clothed core, smelling the scent of you, so addicting.
You felt your pussy clench around nothing, the usual warm feeling building inside your body.
You looked down at Sunghoon with pleading eyes and he was more than happy to satisfy you “On it, baby.” He licked his lips as he pulled your shorts down, the cold air of the room hitting your sensitive skin, making you shiver.
Sunghoon placed kitten kisses all over your thighs, so close to where you needed him but not exactly there.
“Hoon.. please.” You whined, pulling him by his hair closer to your core. Sunghoon flicked his tongue on your clit, making you gasp out.
He continued to lick your pussy like a popsicle, his skilled tongue brushing against your shaven mound, making your head hazy.
Your breath grew heavy and you couldn’t help but throw your head back, desperately pushing Sunghoon closer, trying to find satisfaction.
Sunghoon rewarded your bravery by inserting one finger inside your hole, brushing it against your g-spot “Fuck— Hoon, yes” You moaned out
“Pussy tastes so good.” he purred, diving again between your thighs “All mine, this is all mine, got it?” in your blissful state you nodded your head in reply, bucking your hips to meet his movements
As Sunghoon’s fingers kept brushing against a certain spot that had your eyes roll back, you felt something snap inside of you and liquid spurred out of your pussy.
You widened your eyes, looking down at him with an apologetic look.
“I— I’m sorry.” You said, taking in the sight of said liquid dripping down Sunghoon’s chin and having wetted his shirt.
Sunghoon, on the other hand, seemed to be on cloud 9 “That was so hot, Y/N.” He said with sparkling eyes “Squirt on me again baby, please.”
He was really pussy drunk, drinking all your juices, fucking you with his tongue and fingers.
He raised himself on his feet and brought you into a sloppy and messy kiss, you could taste yourself on his lips.
His painful clothed bulge pressed against your core, rubbing against it.
Sunghoon made his shorts and boxers fall down to his ankles and rubbed his red tip on your wet folds, gathering your sweet juices.
He pushed his thick cock inside you and your breath hitched, its length still something you weren’t used to.
You propped yourself on your elbows and took deep breaths, trying to distract yourself from the burning stretch.
Sunghoon moved slowly, rubbing your clit to make you even wetter so that he could slip in and out without hurting you.
He held your face with one hand, his thumb inside your thumb while you sucked on it “You’re so dirty.” he smirked “My dirty girl.” He got close to your face and hurried his thrusts
“Tell me baby— shit— you mine, uh?” He asked, voice husky
“I’m not y-yours.” Ah, wrong answer. He stilled his movements, looking down at you with a raised brow “Not mine?” He scoffed, “Then you don’t deserve to cum.”
You felt him pull out and panicked, gripping his forearm desperately “No!” You exclaimed “Please Hoon.”
He gave one deep thrust, making you whimper “What did you say?” You blinked faintly “Please..” He shook his head “Nah ah.”
You sighed “I’m yours, Hoon.” His lips twitched into a sly smirk “Good girl.” Sunghoon praised as he gripped your waist.
You raised your top just enough to let your breasts run free and squeezed your nipple, stimulating your body.
Sunghoon joined you and squeezed the other one, bringing his lips down to circle it and send waves of pleasure through your body.
Sunghoon took hold of your hips, raising you from the counter while your hands were still gripping it, moving your lower body to meet his in quick and deep thrusts.
“Fuck, get down.” he helped you down the counter and manhandled you, turning you as he pleased.
He took your arms and hooked them around one of his, your back pressed against his chest.
Sunghoon entered your body once more, his movements so fast. You clenched around him, your moans so loud.
“You were made for me.” He groaned in your ear, kissing your shoulder “Mine to fuck, mine to own, mine to love.”
You felt the knot in your stomach tighten, crying out in pleasure “S-sunghoon.” He breathed out “I know baby,” the speed of his thrusts hurried, rutting inside of you as he hit the sweet spot “Cum for me.”
At his words your eyes rolled at the back of your head, mouth agape as you came apart on his cock.
He looked down, the white circle forming around his shaft, almost making him cum as well on spot.
Your legs started shaking, his thrusts never faltering even as you squirmed in his grip. He circled your clit with one hand, your eyes getting watery.
“Shh,” He soothed, letting go of your arms to make you stabilise yourself by gripping the counter; his hands grasped your hips, grip so tight it would probably leave marks by the next day as he thrusted inside of you, trying to reach his release.
“I’m gonna cum,” Sunghoon panted, the speed of his movements increasing even more “Inside—“ You choked out “Cum inside me.” Your words made him release his seed right there, coating your clenching walls with his warm cum.
He hugged your back, lips brushing against your shoulders as he fucked his cum right back into you, not wanting a single drop to fall out.
He raised from your figure but still not pulling out, turning your head by your chin and connecting your lips.
The kiss was sloppy and uncomfortable due to the position, but it held so many feelings it made you melt.
Sunghoon’s fingertips caressed your stomach, holding you close while gentle thrusts kept uniting your bodies “You begging me to cum inside really did something to me, pretty girl.” He chuckled, kissing your jawline.
“Fortunately,” You started, still out of breath “I’m on the pill. Sunghoon chuckled huskily, “I wouldn’t have minded even if you weren’t.”
He pulled out, drops of his cum running down your thighs. He turned you around and kissed you deeply once more “Let’s get you cleaned up, then we can eat.”
You gave him a weak smile, you were sticky and sweaty, probably your hair was also messed up, but Sunghoon still looked at you like you were the most beautiful person in the world. “Yeah. Let’s do that.”
He kissed the tip of your nose and chuckled “I’m taking you out for the night, so prepare that dress I bought you.” Euphoria took over your face as you nodded happily “Thank you, Hoon.”
“I already told you I’d do anything for you.”
⪩⪨
You were putting the earrings he had bought you, the crimson dress hugging your body.
You stood in front of the full-length mirror inside your room, trying your best not to poke another hole in your ear.
You felt a pair of strong arms wrapping around your waist, Sunghoon’s head snuggled in the crook of his neck. The familiar cologne filled your nostrils, bringing a sense of peacefulness inside you.
Sunghoon kissed the back of your shoulder, his arms bringing you to his body. You felt his erections pressing between your ass cheeks, making you chuckle “You’re gorgeous.” He whispered in your ear, his kisses raising toward your jaw
You let out a shaky breath as he started slowly grinding against your ass “Hoon… We have a reservation.” You cleared your throat, trying not to think at the wetness between your legs
“So?” His voice was so low it made you shiver in his embrace. His hands moved towards your breasts, squeezing them from outside the fabric of your dress. “I’ll be quick, I promise.”
You shook your head “We’re going to be late.” He pressed your lower body even closer to his, rutting his clothes cock on your ass “Please baby…” He groaned, “I’m so hard it hurts.”
His eyes locked with your from the mirror and you couldn’t deny him when he looked so desperate for you.
You loved it, you loved the way he seemed to be so obsessed with you.
You nodded “Alright.” He didn’t waste time and flicked your skirt up, pushing his pants and boxers down and pushing your panties to the side. As his cock sprung free, you could feel it rubbing against you, so hot and hard.
He took your arms and held them in his hand, rubbing your folds with his shaft with the other. With one swift movement, he entered you, moving fast already.
Your moans were music to his ear and the sight of you rolling your eyes from the full-length mirror made his cock twitch inside of you.
Sunghoon groaned, sweat coating his forehead as he sped up, letting go of your arms to grip your hips and use your body as he pleased.
You put one hand behind his head and pressed yourself closer to him, your back tightly against his chest.
“My perfect girl,” He chanted, biting his bottom lip, trying his best not to cum just there “This pussy was made for me, uh?”
His heavy breath sent shivers through all your body, the sweet feeling of his dick bottoming out, hitting your cervix repeatedly made your legs shake.
“Close already?” He asked, the sound of skin slapping and the wet sounds from your cunt filling the room “Y-yes.” You managed to say, the feeling of euphoria approaching you.
“Fuck— me too.” He let out a few breaths, hurrying his speeds “Let’s cum together baby,” Sunghoon hugged your body from behind, spooning you while standing up as he rutted fast your abused pussy
“You’ll let me cum inside, right?” You nodded your head, “Please.” You breathed out “Want you to fill me up.”
Your words were enough for Sunghoon to empty his load inside of you, your own hand went down to circle your clit and you came right with him.
Your walls pulsed around him and his cock twitched, with slow and deep thrusts. He kissed the back of your shoulder, his breath calming down.
“You did amazing,” He whispered, pulling out and covering your folds with your underwear.
He pulled his pants and boxers up and pulled you by your waist, kissing you hungrily “Now, you’re going to dinner with my cum inside,” He murmured on your lips “And after we come home I’ll fuck it right back, filling you up again.”
You were still dazed from your orgasm, or maybe it was the spell he gave you, because all you could manage to do was nod blissfully. Sunghoon’s plan was indeed working.
⪩⪨
Saying that you two had been fucking like two rabbits was an understatement.
Sunghoon took you in the kitchen again, then on the sofa, in the bathtub and so many times in the bedroom.
Like now, you had the insane idea to blow him around three am, the day before Jake was coming home.
Nobody could blame you, though, because the way he was sleeping with his lips open, bare chested and hands ruffled turned you so on you wanted to give him the sloppiest and messiest head of his life. And so you did.
Sunghoon was now cuddling with you, his fingertips brushing against your sensitive skin, the quiet of the night too comfortable as you laid in his embrace.
His breath was even and soft, his body heat should’ve been bothering you since you were in July but it only made you seek more. Maybe it was the fact that the day before, it would be gone forever.
“Hoon?” you asked, tone gentle “Hmm?” he murmured sleepily, sniffling his head closer to your shoulder
You stayed silent for a couple of seconds, trying to gather your thoughts “When tomorrow comes, can you give me some time alone?”
Sunghoon frowned “What?” You gulped, looking down at him, smelling your shampoo scent in his hair. “I need some time to figure things out.”
Sunghoon was scared to feel hopeful by your words, he still said “Figure what?”
“My feelings.” You answered, sighing softly “It’s just that, I’ve never felt so happy like when I’m with you.” At those words, he raised his head, his tired dark eyes meeting yours
“With Jake, everything feels on autopilot, we just live our lives as if we were two roommates.” He caressed your shoulder, letting you know that he was with you, that he had got you
“But with you— you made me rediscover how love feels like, how it feels to be someone’s first choice.”
“Y/N..” He whispered, feeling a sudden urge to protect you “But I’m saying this after spending basically one month without my boyfriend.” Hearing you utter those two words felt like a punch in the stomach, even though you were just stating the truth.
Sunghoon had just been a replacement for you, something to fill the void created by Jake.
“I need to see it for myself if I really have no feelings left for him or if..” He interrupted you before you could finish “I understand.”
You blinked faintly, “You do?” Sunghoon nodded, a smile forming on his lips “Of course, I’ll wait for you and understand if you choose to be with Jake.”
Your eyes sparkled at his words, he was so gentle despite the fact that his heart was breaking.
But that wouldn’t happen, because as he held you close to him, he knew his spell had worked.
No matter how much you tried, you wouldn’t be able to get away from him.
“I’ll always be there for you.” No matter how many times he repeated it, you always felt the sincerity of his words.
⪩⪨
“I’m back.” Jake announced, entering the front door with his huge luggage “Y/N?” He asked, walking into the living room
“Hey,” You smiled, reaching him “Welcome back.” Jake smiled wrapped his arms around you “How is my love?” He asked rather happily
“Layla’s alright, I think.” Your answer sounded harsh, still not fully having forgiven him for the horrible things he said on FaceTime.
Jake frowned, knowing his sins “I’m so sorry, baby.” You sighed, pulling away from his embrace “I know.” You just said and took his luggage “I’ll put the dirty clothes in the laundry.”
Everything went smoothly, he had talked to you all about his journey, how awesome Los Angeles was, everyone was so kind and supportive towards him. And, not a single question on how you had been the past two weeks.
Shaking the feeling off and trying not to think about Sunghoon anytime Jake brushed his fingers against your skin, you successfully managed to get through three days.
What you told Sunghoon was true, your life went on autopilot when you were with Jake.
You woke up, went to work, did the chores and then went to sleep. You barely spoke to each other and the awkward silence in the house was always present.
“Baby?” He asked while you were cooking by the gas stoves, you hummed in response, not turning around.
“Since when did you buy all those jewellery and clothes?” He raised a brow, leaning against the counter “They’re pretty expensive, they’re from Pandora.”
“Oh?” You turned around and looked at the jewel case in his hands, trying to suppress a smile at the memory of Sunghoon buying you all the things you liked. Honestly, you wouldn’t even care if he had bought you diamonds or just paper rings, you’d take anything he’d give you.
“I liked them, so I bought them.” You shrugged, turning back to stir the soup inside the pot
“You’re so rich you can buy anything you want now?” He scoffed, placing the jewel case on the table and crossing his arms.
You stopped in your tracks, raising a brow “What?” Jake clicked his tongue “Did you pay the rent?” You nodded “Of course I did, last week.”
He let out a satisfied sound “What about the car insurance?” Now did you turn around and stared at him in disbelief “It’s your car, I’m not going to pay for you.”
Jake sighed “Come on baby, I’ve spent all my money on the trip.” You narrowed your eyes, dots collecting inside your brain “It’s a business trip, the company should’ve paid for you.”
Jake widened his eyes, stuttering “I— I meant the food and…” He trailed off. You weren’t going to buy it, you didn’t want to hear his excuses anymore.
“I don’t care, it’s your car. I don’t use it.” You informed, cleaning your hands in the apron and crossing them on your chest “But I’m your boyfriend.”
Your brows furrowed at his statement “Only when you want to.” Jake rolled his eyes “Here you go again.” He ran a hand through his hair “Could you stop being so over dramatic?”
“Oh, so now I’m over dramatic.” You said sarcastically “Yes! Yes you are.” He snapped
You didn’t flinch or look away this time, you weren’t going to show your weak side. Jake always took advantage of it, and you weren’t going to let him.
“Sunghoon was right.” You murmured and Jake’s head snapped back toward you “What?”
“You’re an asshole.” You narrowed your eyes but Jake just dismissed your “Yeah, ok. What about Sunghoon?”
“I’ve spent a lot of time with him lately,” Jake laughed at your statement, seeming genuinely thrilled at your information “You and that weirdo?”
Your mouth hung open “What did you say about him? He’s your best friend.”
Jake tsked, “That’s what he thinks. He was a loner and I just talked to him. He has stuck with me since then and I’m growing pretty sick of it.”
“How dare you talk about him like that?” Jake’s brow raised “Why do you care?”
“Because he is ten times better than you.” Jake chuckled again “Oh, he is? Baby, I’m better than him or you would’ve been his girlfriend by now.”
He leaned back against the counter “And what have you two been doing, eh? Reading books? Watching corny films? Playing table games?”
“Sex.” You replied, your tone monotone, having had enough of his bullshits. His chuckle died and he frowned, looking up at you.
“You heard me, I slept with Sunghoon.” His jaw dropped, anger building inside of him “So you just go around and act like a slut? Is that what you do when I’m not home?”
“Don’t you dare call me a slut.” You snapped, your voice raising for the first time in three years “You cheated on me, Y/N. When were you going to tell me?”
“I needed a few days to figure my feelings out, and thank you for making me realise how much of an asshole you are.”
Jake scoffed “You're the one who slept with another man when you’re supposed to be my girlfriend.”
“You’re right, and I’m sorry for cheating.” His face held some victorious feelings that quickly died as you added “Because I should’ve dumped you before.”
“And that’s what I’m doing right now, Sim Jaeyun, I’m breaking up with you.”
“You can’t do that.” His face filled with anger, but no regret could be found.
You were glad you opened your eyes before you were stuck with him “You’ve sucked my happiness out, you took the life out of me. Now I’m going to take it back.” You took off the apron, throwing it at his chest “I’ll come and get my things tomorrow.”
You heard him throwing other harsh words to you, but you didn’t care. You didn’t even wear your shoes, just ran out of your old apartment in slippers, towards the only place you knew would always have space for you.
⪩⪨
“Don’t shoot me!” Sunghoon was playing with his friends at a video game, the sound of keyboard taps filled the whole house along with his shouting.
It was strange his neighbours hadn’t come to complain already.
“At your back!” Jay informed him, Sunghoon was taking the aim to kill the enemy but his doorbell ringing distracted him, making his shoot pointless. “Shit man, I think it’s Miss Choi again.”
Jay snorted, “Alright, go deal with her.” The friends exchanged goodbyes and Sunghoon got up, the doorbell kept ringing, making Sunghoon groan
“Here, Here.” He sighed as he opened the door only to widen his eyes when he realised it was you in front of him— not his neighbour.
“Y/N—“ He couldn’t even finish saying your name when you threw yourself on him, lips meeting his. Sunghoon was taken aback at first but soon enough kissed you back, your lips touching and moving together.
You pulled away, panting heavily “What are you doing here?” He asked, taking in the sight of you.
Home clothes, slippers on and heavy breaths…
“Did you run here?” You took several deep breaths before speaking “I’m so sorry I made you wait.” Sunghoon blinked faintly at your sudden apologies
“Why are you—“ You shook your head “Please let me finish first.”
Sunghoon nodded slowly, waiting for you to continue. “When I first met Jake, I had never experienced love, so I thought what he did was normal…” You recalled in your mind all the times he and treated you unfairly for a span of three years and shivered
“But you made me realise how love actually feels, and I want to learn all the other forms it comes with.” You looked up at his eyes “He called you names and said he’d only been your friend for pity.”
You continued “I just wanted you to know that you are not pitiful, in fact, you're the best person I’ve ever met. Please, don’t listen to him.”
Sunghoon couldn’t care less about Jake’s opinion about him. But a small smile appeared on his face at the way you seemed to be so annoyed by the fact that he had insulted him.
“You defended me?” He asked softly, and you nodded as if it was the most obvious answer “I also dumped his unworthy ass.”
Sunghoon’s brows shot up in surprise and a smirk crept on his lips “That’s my girl.”
He brought his arms around your waist, pressing your body on his “I want to make it right, Sunghoon, I want to be happy and I want you.” You bit your bottom lip “If you want me too?”
Sunghoon chuckled and twirled you in the air, your giggles filling his usual lonely apartment “I’ve always wanted you, from the first day I saw you, I knew you were the one.”
His answer surprised you, “You liked me?” Sunghoon booped your nose, you looked so cute, all rebel wannabe just for your insecurities to stop you again “I think I love you.”
Your breath hitched, those words leaving his lips made you feel so warm on the inside, your heart skipping so many beats you weren’t sure it was still working “I think I love you too.”
Sunghoon kissed you deeply, his tongue entering your mouth as he claimed you, finally able to call you his.
You pulled away and chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck.
You tilted your head, tone flirty “So.. You’ll let me stay for the night?” Sunghoon secured your waist in his grasp “I’ll let you stay forever.”
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florencemtrash · 6 months ago
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Take it Off - Azriel x Reader
Summary: You and Azriel have been friends for centuries... but what happens when he wakes up one day to find that things have changed? And how will he react when you start wearing Cassian's clothes?
Warnings: Angst. Jealous Azriel. Suggestiveness and then some (I don't know what warning to put, but it's spicier than my usual stuff is all I'll say). Cassian is an absolute menace... good for him
Author's note: Did I write this to procrastinate editing SSIB Ch 22 after watching Bridgerton S3?... yes
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Is this a fucking game to you?
Cassian grinned over the lip of his cup, raising his brow in a poorly disguised expression of confusion. He’d been playing the innocent fool all throughout breakfast, seemingly oblivious to the daggers Azriel was throwing his direction every time he made you laugh.
Internally, he and Nesta were both cackling. He threw his arm over the back of his meta’s chair, plucking the cream puff she held out for him, and tossing it into his mouth with a shit-eating grin. 
I’ve not the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Azriel. Although it hurts me deeply to see you so upset.
Upset was an understatement. Azriel was holding onto his glass of orange juice so tightly cracks were beginning to form beneath his fingertips. 
You elbowed Azriel in the ribs, brows furrowed as you pointed your slice of toast towards his hand. “Are you ok?” You whispered low and just for his ears. 
The molten anger in his eyes melted away, hazel eyes softening as he took in your concerned expression. You were the first and only one of his family members to watch him so intensely. You could unravel the meaning in every twitch of his jaw, every rhythmic tap of his fingers against his thigh, every flicker of his shadows. You knew when he was upset, when he was happy, and when he wanted to laugh but had trouble expressing it. The only thing you weren’t aware of when it came to Azriel was how unbelievably in love with you he was. 
But that was his own fault. 
You’d watched him fawn over Mor for centuries, watched as he practically crawled on hand and knees for any kernel of affection she was willing to throw his way. Then, when you thought he’d finally gotten over his feelings for her, he’d chased after Elain’s heels like a dog in heat. You didn’t even want to begin thinking about Gwyn and the way she’d trampled over his hopes with the simple phrase, “I love you as a friend, Azriel. Nothing more.” 
No. It was entirely his fault that you’d learned to bury your own feelings for him so deep they’d become background noise — as inconsequential and ever present as the sound of your own breathing. 
Still… you couldn’t help but notice the secrets swimming in his eyes, the hurt and longing there that you could only guess the origin of. Who’d hurt him this time? You wondered. 
“I’m fine.” Azriel whispered, his hands ghosting over your thighs before deciding against touching you there. 
You hummed, clearly unconvinced. You held your toast in between your teeth, tasting the raspberry jam explode on your tongue as you reached over and carefully peeled Azriel’s fingers off his injured glass. 
His heart stuttered at the sight of your lips as they closed around your thumb, licking away crumbs and jam from your fingertips. But then his gaze dropped to your chest and his stomach soured. 
As Madja’s apprentice, you’d acquired a special interest in botany — an interest that had all but shoved you into Feyre’s studio so you could learn the skills necessary to depict all manner of flora and fauna in your field journal. When you’d complained about finding paint and charcoal stains over your clothes, Cassian had jumped on the opportunity to give you his old shirts to use as painting smocks. He had to congratulate himself for the stroke of genius. After all, he and Nesta had been discussing plans on how to get Azriel to admit his feelings for months now. 
Azriel did not respond well to outright suggestions or bullying. If he told Azriel to pull his head out of his ass and ask you on a proper date, the Shadowsinger would only hunker down on his preconceptions that he was unloveable, and that you were far too good for him. If he revealed to Azriel that you’d secretly loved him for decades that would only make him feel even more embarrassment and shame. 
No.
  Jealousy worked far better when it came to Azriel.
You looked comfortable and happy in Cassian’s clothes — a fact that escaped no one’s notice. You had the sleeves rolled up past your elbows, the rows of buttons at your back haphazardly done without wings to accommodate. You’d worn that particular shirt a half dozen times now and replaced any scent of Cassian with your own. 
Still, you were wearing another male’s shirt… and it was starting to drive Azriel insane.
“I was going to get rid of these and thought you might like them for… painting.” Azriel shifted on his feet, holding out the neatly stacked pile of clothes for you. 
You were laying on your stomach in bed, colored pencils and textbooks splayed out around you, but quickly righted yourself and sifted through the piles he handed you.
You held one up for a better look. 
“Azriel, you were just wearing this last week.” It still smelled like him — the scent of the Illyrian mountains at night woven through the soft, cotton material. “I can’t take this. Or this. Or this!” 
“I have more just like them.” 
You huffed, fists balanced on your hips. 
Azriel was a simple male with ample space in his wardrobe. When he wasn’t in his Illyrian leathers he wore the same three outfits on rotation, all of them nearly identical. If there was anyone who shouldn’t be giving away clothes, it was Azriel. 
“I really appreciate it, Az, but I’m ok. I don’t need these. Cassian already gave me enough hand-me-downs to last two decades at least.” 
A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped out. “Well I’m glad for that.” He was practically seething. You noticed, as you always did, but you couldn’t imagine that you were the cause of his frustrations. 
“Are you sure you’re alright, Az? You’ve been acting strangely the past few days.” 
“It’s nothing.”
“I doubt that.” 
There were various things on his mind, chief among them you. So he took hold of the olive branch you’d extended him and laid down beside you, talking about everything and nothing at all. But one thing he avoided talking about at all costs was how the gentle scraping of your nails through his hair as he rested his head in your lap made him want to lock the door and never come out. 
He wanted to bury his face beneath your sundress and then tear it to pieces. He wanted to dive under the covers and leave an assortment of marks on your skin. To hold you so close that you began to smell like one another. 
You lay down beside him, leaning your head against his shoulder so he caught whiffs of your elderberry and lemon shampoo. 
“You know you can tell me anything, right? That’s what friends are for.” 
Right… friends. He was starting to hate that word. 
“Yes… I know.” 
How long do you think he’ll last?
Nesta felt Cassian’s soft laugh blow over the back of her neck as they crouched just behind the door of Feyre's painting studio.
Azriel had been undeniably irritable the last two weeks, his patience fraying like a linen skirt with the hem torn off. Cassian was still sporting a bruise on his cheek from this morning’s sparring session after one of his teasing remarks had hit a little too close to home. 
Not much longer. Look at him, Nes. He’s practically vibrating.
Nesta slapped her hand over her mouth, stifling her laughter. 
Azriel was restless, his wings kept opening and closing with agitation and the curve of his ears had long since turned a bright shade of pink. He’d had his shadows knock over a cup of ink earlier, sending its contents splattering over your shirt and staining the fabric beyond repair. But you’d only shrugged and said, “It’s my painting shirt. It’s meant to get dirty,” before going back to your canvas with a soft smile. The moment you’d turned your back to him, he’d silently cursed the ceiling. 
Stupid, stupid, stupid. He kicked himself, too focused on your continuing conversation to think that his meddling brother and sister-in-law might be watching. 
He hadn’t expected his emotions to take over so quickly, least of all with you. You’d been his best friend for over two hundred years. You were a staple in his life, more familiar to him than the childhood blanket he still had tucked away in his drawer. There was no reason why he should suddenly wake up one day and realize with a shock of surprise that he loved you and couldn’t imagine living in a world that didn’t have you in it. 
It had been such a silly moment as well. You’d been getting ready for Starfall, your hair done up and a flush of color spread over your cheeks and lips. He’d come to check in on you and lost his breath when he saw you sitting at the vanity, holding up earrings to your neck to see if they matched the satin of your deep blue gown. And then you’d politely asked him to lace up your dress and he’d nearly swallowed his tongue in surprise, forcing his hands to stop shaking as they brushed against your spine. Gods he’d wanted to throw himself off a balcony that night, if only because you’d be the one tasked with healing him. 
He wanted to throw himself off the balcony now. Let the ground swallow him whole so he wouldn’t have to make a fool of himself in front of you… again. 
I give it another week. Nesta declared.
Cassian smirked. I know my brother. He won’t last another three days.
In the end they were both wrong. 
It only took two days for Azriel to finally snap.
“Take it off.” 
You swiveled around in your chair, tongue pressing against your cheek as you wondered what gave Azriel the audacity to march into your private lesson with Feyre and make such an out-of-character demand. 
“What?” You asked, furrowing your brows. 
Azriel stood as still as an obsidian statue in the doorway. His wings loomed over his shoulders, talons reaching towards the ceiling tense and twitching. 
“Take. It. Off,” he repeated through gritted teeth. He clutched a neatly folded shirt in his hands, knuckles pale and bloodless from the tight grip. You’d been wearing Cassian’s clothes almost every day this past week and he couldn’t stand it anymore. He couldn’t stand sitting beside you at the dinner table or in the library, the laughter in his throat dying when he caught Cassian’s scent drifting off your skin. 
It was maddening the way you didn’t think anything of it. 
Yes, Cassian was practically a brother to you, and yes, he was a mated male but… fuck it bothered Azriel so much to think of anyone else laying claim to you. To think that one day you might actually walk around wearing another male’s clothes because you loved them. To think that that male wouldn’t be him. 
He’d tried to bring up the topic with you in his own round-about way, but you’d shrugged off all his suggestions of wearing something — anything — else. 
“If you want painting clothes, why don’t we go shopping this afternoon? I’m sure Feyre has recommendations. Or we could just walk around the Rainbow until something catches your eye.” 
“I’m not a full time artist, and it seems silly to spend money on clothes you intend to ruin.” 
“Why don’t you ask Feyre or Mor for hand-me-downs then? They’ll fit you better and the sleeves won’t drag so much.” 
“I like it when my clothes are loose.” 
Feyre glanced between the two of you, namely the flare of Azriel’s nostrils and the way he ground his teeth so intently you worried he’d crack a tooth. 
“I’m… going to leave now.”
“Wait—Feyre!” 
The High Lady kissed your cheek, a knowing look in her eyes, before scurrying out the door. 
Don’t scowl so much, Az, you’re making her nervous. She chirped to the Shadowsinger before slipping down the hallway and disappearing. 
She made it all of ten feet down the hall before crowing, “It’s happening!” to the others. 
It’s happening?! Mor leapt out from her bedroom, a robe hastily tied around her waist and soap suds clinging to her hair. “Fey—” she hissed.
Feyre pressed a finger up to her lips, cutting her off. They’re in the art studio now. 
I fucking KNEW IT! Mor squealed in delight, stomping her feet soundlessly into the floorboards as she allowed Feyre to grab her wrist and drag her forward. 
I won the bet, Nes.
You didn’t win, we both lost!
Semantics. 
Why you bas—
Feyre, Rhys, Mor, Cassian, and Nesta streamed into the foyer. There was an air vent here that led directly to the art studio two floors above them and painted over so expertly it may as well have been part of the molding. The sounds traveling through it were muffled by echos and distance, but nothing that fae hearing and magic couldn’t overcome. 
“That’s it!” The chair you’d been sitting in skittered back with a squeak. “What is your problem, Azriel? You’ve been agitated for weeks now. You won’t tell me, or any of the others, what’s wrong and every time Cassian so much as glances in your direction you look like you want to tear his throat out!” 
Azriel said nothing as you stomped forward and dragged him into the room, slamming the door shut behind him. Whiskey eyes flickered down to your hand — the hand you currently had closed around his wrist — and he shuddered. 
You didn’t even want to begin to unpack the hidden meaning of that response as you brought him to the center of the room and let go. 
He dropped the shirt on the nearby desk, hands lowering to the hem of your painting smock with a grimace. 
“I need you to take this off.” He repeated with a frown.
“What kind of person marches into a room and demands that their friend take off their shirt?” 
He flinched at that word — friend.
“Az!” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and his anger. “What is going on with you?!” 
“It’s nothing.” He growled out, but he tugged at the hem like its very existence was a personal offense.
“Clearly it’s not nothing.”
“Can you just take off your shirt and put this one on?”
You shoved him away. It wasn’t even like he was asking you to get naked, you both knew you were wearing something beneath this, but it was the way he was asking that grated on your nerves — like what he was requesting was perfectly normal and you were the ridiculous one for not listening.
“No.” You folded your arms over your chest with a huff. You were just being stubborn now, but you didn’t care. 
His eyes turned tortured and he clasped his hands together in front of you. “Please?” He begged.
“No! Not until you tell me what’s going on and why you’re acting this way!” 
“I don’t want to have this discussion while you’re standing there smelling like another male!”
That was… not what you were expecting.
You gaped at him, unsure whether to howl with laughter, or slap him across the face. 
“That’s what this is about? You’re upset because I’m wearing Cassian’s clothes?” You gagged at the mere thought of what Azriel was insinuating. 
“Well that was a little hurtful.” Cassian mumbled. 
Mor slapped the back of his head. “Shhhhh. I’m trying to listen.”
Azriel shifted on his feet, color beginning to spread high on his cheekbones. “It’s not about Cassian… not really…”
You tapped your foot on the ground, waiting for him to continue. Azriel felt naked. Stripped back like one of your insect specimens lit up beneath a microscope. Your eyes raked over his every movement. Even his shadows, usually so attention-seeking, cowered behind their master’s back whispering to one another about how Azriel might dig himself out of his own grave. 
“Well?” You snapped. 
Azriel shrank back, “I… I like you, Y/n.” 
You rolled your eyes, “I know, that’s why we’re friends. I like you too.”
“No. Not… not like that.” Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Oh I’m fucking this up so badly it’s not even funny anymore.” 
“I don’t even know what it is you’re fucking up. I—”
“I love you, ok?” He said in a burst of energy.  “I love you and not in the way that friends are meant to love one another and Cassian’s an idiot and I’m a jealous bastard and I… I…” 
You stared back dumbly. “You can’t mean that.” 
Azriel’s face fell. “And why not?”
“Because I have been here for decades, centuries,” you jabbed his chest with a finger, “And you never once looked at me that way. Never once considered me as anything more than a friend. You’re upset because I’ve been wearing Cassian’s clothes the last few weeks? Well guess what, Az, I’ve watched you walk in and out of those doors for years with your poorly concealed hickies and that lovesick look on your face, and I never made it your problem or anyone else’s.” 
“Well I want you to!” He shouted. It was the first and only time you could remember him raising his voice. “I want you to make it my problem, Y/n. I want you to tell me that you love me and I want you to shout at me for all the stupid decisions I’ve made because I’m yours. I’m yours to shout at. I’m yours to get angry with. I’m yours to love if you’ll still have me and…” Azriel gasped for breath, chest heaving as he came face to face with the fact that he’d just said those words out loud. Those words that he’d kept close to his chest with the rest of his secrets. Those words that proved just how completely at your mercy he was. 
Please say you’ll still have me. His eyes begged. 
When you didn’t move or say anything, he felt a piece of his heart wither away. He lowered his eyes, suddenly interested in a speckle of red paint that had smeared under his boot, “Forgive me. I’m… I’m sorry I didn’t… I shouldn’t have—” 
“You’re a fucking idiot, Azriel.” You muttered breathlessly. 
Then you flung yourself into his arms and crashed your lips into his. 
Kissing Azriel was better than you could have ever imagined. The fantasies you’d constructed late in the night when you were lonely blew apart like paper houses, crumbling in the face of reality. His mouth fumbled for purchase against your lips before slotting into place with a strangled moan. He lifted you in the air and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, tightening them until you could feel him harden between your legs. 
His tongue flitted over your lips tasting like oranges and magic. 
But his hands. 
His hands. 
You couldn’t get enough of them as they slid up and down your back, squeezing and pressing into your skin until he’d memorized the curve of your spine. You wove your fingers in his hair, tilting his head so you could stare into his hazel eyes before diving in for another taste. 
He walked you back to the desk, shadows flinging the tins of charcoal and pastel pencils off the furniture so you could perch there instead. Then he surged forward, pressing his hips into the space between your legs so he could feel the heat that gathered there. It sent shivers down his spine.
This… this was everything he’d ever wanted. You were everything he’d ever wanted. Not some unapproachable female he admired from afar but hardly knew, but someone who’d seen every inch of his soul and never flinched. Someone who’d nestled into the hidden corners of his heart and grown there like a willow tree. 
You moved your hands over the wide expanse of his back, digging your nails in to feel every twitch of muscle, every shudder, as he latched onto the side of your neck and slid his tongue over the sensitive skin there. 
He smelled like mountain rain. Like fresh wind and petrichor and sea salt. 
You smelled like lemons and safety. Like maple leaves and lavender and… Cassian.
Because you were still wearing his gods-damned shirt. 
Azriel felt his blood boil, and an instinctual rage took over as he growled low in his throat, bunched the fabric of Cassian’s shirt in his hands, and tore it in two.
You pulled away from him at the sound of ripping fabric, but kept your grip on his solid shoulders as air blew across your skin.
Azriel’s pupils were blown wide, his lips pink and raw as he leaned his forehead against yours in a daze. You continued to breathe each other’s air like you were drowning. He seemed just as in disbelief as you, if not more. 
“Azriel…” You whispered, chest heaving. 
He looked at you with half-lidded eyes full of heat. “... yes, Y/n?” He asked breathlessly.
“I think you ripped through my dress… and my bra as well…” 
“Oh…” He fingered the ruined fabric that fell loose around your shoulders and realized that your back was indeed on full display. The straps of your bra slipped down and the mangled buttons of your sundress clung to their loops by weak threads. “Oh…oh gods.” 
One hand flew up to your chest to keep the fabric in place while the other slapped over your mouth, suffocating the laughter that threatened to burst forth. 
Azriel’s ears and cheeks turned brighter than the sun as he slowly lowered you down to your feet, fumbling over apologies like he hadn’t been shoving his tongue down your throat mere seconds ago. 
“I’m so sorry—” 
“Azriel, it’s ok.” 
“No, I was being an ass and now I’ve ruined your dress and—” 
“You can buy me more.”
Azriel’s shoulder dropped. “I can?” “You can.” 
He shook his head very seriously. “Yes, yes you’re right, I—” Azriel had always been the beautiful one — the one that drew eyes when he walked into a room. The one that had females and males falling out of their seats for a proper look at his elegant features. But right now he looked so helpless, so flustered and unsure of himself that you finally lost it. 
Champagne bubble laughs slipped out of your mouth, light and airy, and sent a shock of warmth through Azriel’s chest. It was infectious the way the skin stretched over your cheeks. The light in your eyes couldn’t be contained no matter how hard you tried. 
He couldn’t help himself. 
He started laughing too. 
What began as one of his reserved chuckles grew into uncontrollable peals of laughter that echoed throughout the studio and had you clutching onto the desk for support. 
Azriel doubled over, one hand holding the stitch in his side together as you howled. 
“Oh gods. I can’t—” You hiccuped. “I-I-I can’t breathe.” 
Soon you were both kneeling on the ground, clutching each other’s arms for some semblance of stability. You gasped for breath, wiping away tears from the corners of your eyes. 
Azriel captured one of your hands, weaving his fingers through yours before bringing your wrist to his lips for a soft, reverent kiss. You thought you’d experienced enough emotions for today ranging from frustration to anger to a joy you couldn’t begin to put into words. But you were certain your heart could handle one more shift in the atmosphere. 
Wordlessly you tugged off Cassian’s shirt, dropping it to the side where shadows caught hold of the cursed fabric and quickly tossed it into the fireplace. The flames crackled with triumph, eating away at the shirt with a vengeance. 
“A little dramatic, don’t you think?” 
“We can agree to disagree.” Azriel murmured, his eyes growing dark and heavy. His gaze drifted down to the soft skin now exposed from your tattered dress, the thin straps clinging to your arms, the gentle swell of your breasts as you breathed heavily. 
His fingers danced over the straps in silent permission, eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation. But you were open and wanting and desperate for his touch. You crawled into his lap and a faint nod was all he needed before the pale blue fabric of your dress fell down and bunched about your waist. The bra followed, and then you were sitting there naked from the waist up, feeling the heat grow between your bodies as Azriel looked at you with pure adoration in his eyes. 
“Am I dreaming, Y/n?” He whispered, rubbing circles into your hip bones. 
You smiled softly, “Have you dreamed of me before?”
“Yes. Many times.” He kissed your chest, slowly dragging his hands down your ribs as you shivered and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, and then his belt buckle. “But we never got this far.” 
“Hmmmm, I think we could go a little further.” 
“NOT IN MY STUDIO!” Feyre’s voice echoed oddly through the room, sounding muffled and far away. 
Azriel’s wings flared out, hiding you from view as you yelped and pressed your chest against his. Your cheeks burned with embarrassment about being found in such a compromising position. But the door was closed! And so were the windows!
His shadows finally found the culprit in the air vent.
“Godsdamnit—HAVE YOU BEEN LISTENING THE ENTIRE TIME?!” Azriel shouted. 
A moment passed before Feyre answered, “... No,” in a much softer tone. 
“We missed part of the beginning,” Cassian chimed in. 
Azriel groaned, dropping his forehead against your shoulder as you were stunned into silence. He muttered something beneath his breath that sounded oddly similar to, “I swear I’m going to kill him one day.”
Azriel helped you to your feet and finally, you put on his shirt. 
“Are you happy now?” You teased, arms dropping to your sides. 
The corner of his lip twitched upwards. You looked… very good in his clothes with the sleeves rolled up and a sliver of your dress (now skirt) peeking out from beneath. 
He looked towards the vent, then wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close so he could whisper, “I would be happier if I saw my shirt and that dress of yours on the floor of my bedroom.” 
His hand slid up your skirt, squeezing the back of your thighs in a way that had you stiffening. 
All at once he was second-guessing himself. Maybe he’d taken things too far. Maybe the lust-filled haze had cleared and you didn’t want him anymore. 
You swallowed and wrapped your hand around his wrist, gently guiding his fingers to your core. You let him know just how much you wanted this. 
A roar of blood sounded in the Shadowsinger’s ears. 
“I think that sounds like a very good plan.” You murmured in agreement and his eyes turned black as night.
He stole another long kiss before scooping you into his arms. 
“Az, where are we going?” You giggled into the curve of his throat as he flew down the hallway and stairs. “We just passed your bedroom.” 
“We’re not going to my bedroom.”
“Well we missed my bedroom too.” 
He didn’t respond.
Azriel skidded to a stop at the top of the staircase, already well aware that his family had gathered at the bottom and were waiting to bombard him with questions. 
Azriel smirked at you, leaned down, and kissed your cheek. “When I take you to bed properly, it won’t be with our nosey family members in the house.” He ran his tongue across the line of your jaw all the way to your earlobe and whispered, “I want any noises you make to be for me, and me alone.” 
“You are certainly a man of poetry, Az.”
He smiled. “Only for you.” 
“Well, well, well if it isn’t the two love—” Shadows flew into his mouth, muffling his words. “HEH! Azz! Whazthf—”
“I’ll see you in a week.” He said to no one in particular, his shadows opening the door of the River House. 
“Where are you going?” Mor asked, her eyes zeroing in on the bright red mark blossoming on your neck. What the fuck? She mouthed at you, giving you two thumbs up as Azriel crossed the doorway with you in his arms.
“None of your business. I’ll see you in a week.” Then he looked down at you, eyes growing soft. “We’ll see you in a week,” he corrected himself. 
Your stomach bottomed out, heat flowing through your body as you heard him make such a declaration in front of... well everyone. You couldn't wait to see where he would take you and where he would take you.
"Ready?" Azriel asked, a sultry smile growing on his face.
"Ready."
You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in the hollow of his throat as he took off into the air. 
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