#scenarios playing on loop in my head)

[personinthepalace]

"That fucking baby stole my goddamn candy!" - Eric in Taskmaster Minnesota Season 2, Episode 1

This lives rent free in my head 😆

[verdiesque]

Woke up terrified and it took me a moment to remember tf is going on and well. It's the visa appointment innit

[ivy-saurs]

jerry seinfeld: gender.

*audience starts booing and throwing things at him*

[simplybybea]

"I didn't choose to bee a writer a bunch of people stayed talking in my head and it was easier to keep the records of their collective shenanigans than to ignore it'

“how did you get into writing” girl nobody gets into writing. writing shows up one day at your door and gets into you

[chrissssssmut]

I wanna request a five some scenario based on this TikTok

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSryxcfbe/

SLEEPOVER TROUBLE

Yunjin, Winter, Giselle & Somi x Male Reader

Tags: Anal, Oral, Vaginal, hole switching, dirty talk, harem, fivesome, cumplay, wet noises, dominant girls, cock worship, absolute filth

AN: My mind's not working properly so forgive for any mistakes here. Male Reader def had the time of his life here! I also changed some of the stuff here so it won't be as accurate like the pics XD.

It started off innocent enough.

Or so you thought.

When Somi had messaged the group chat, saying, “Sleepover at [Your Name]’s place. I’m bringing snacks. And wine. And… mischief 😘,” you assumed it was just her usual chaotic teasing. You had no clue that an hour later, your apartment would be filled with four of the hottest girls you knew—all in the kind of pajamas that made you question whether you were dreaming.

“Damn, this place is still as messy as last time,” Yunjin muttered, tossing her overnight bag on your couch as she slipped off her fuzzy slippers. Her oversized shirt rode up just enough to show the curve of her thighs, and the way she arched her back when stretching didn’t help.

Winter followed, hair tied up, wearing a cropped baby tee that barely contained her chest, and loose sleep shorts that hung dangerously low on her hips. “Could use a woman's touch,” she smirked, stepping past you close enough that your shoulders brushed. Her perfume clung to your hoodie.

“Yah, he’s trying his best,” Giselle giggled, arms looping around your neck from behind. You felt her chest press into your back, warm and firm. “Aren’t you, babe?” she whispered low by your ear, breath hot.

Somi shut the door last, dropping a huge tote bag full of junk food and alcohol with a smug grin. “He’s gonna need more than his best tonight,” she said, eyes locked on you like she already knew exactly how this night was ending.

Your throat went dry.

They sprawled on your couch, laughing, talking, eating chips and sipping drinks. The movie was playing—some dumb romcom—but no one was paying attention.

Especially not you.

Because every time you looked up, someone was touching you.

Yunjin’s hand on your thigh.

Winter’s head resting on your shoulder, breath slow, soft.

Giselle’s fingers playing with the hem of your shorts like it was casual.

Somi lying across your lap like it was her spot, stretching so her tank top rode up her ribs.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Yunjin finally said, voice low, sultry, as she leaned closer. Her lips brushed your ear. “Something wrong, baby?”

“I—uh…” You swallowed. “You guys are… kinda handsy tonight.”

“Oh?” Winter sat up, crawling across the couch like a cat. “And you don’t like it?”

Somi looked up from your lap. “Or do you like it too much?”

You could feel your heartbeat pounding in your ears as Giselle snatched the remote and shut off the movie.

“Let’s stop pretending,” she said, turning to straddle your lap while Somi moved beside you. “You know we didn’t come here just to watch movies.”

“Not with you looking like that,” Somi added, tugging your shirt up just a little, revealing your abs.

Yunjin was already lifting her top off, slow and deliberate. “I’ve been thinking about this since last week. You wore those grey sweats on campus and didn’t even realize how hard you were making it for us.”

Winter leaned in, pushing her lips to your jaw. “We talked about it after you left. Every. Single. One of us.”

“And we decided,” Somi whispered, her hand creeping down your waistband, “we’re done waiting.”

Clothes disappeared quickly.

One moment, they were four flirty girls on your couch. The next, they were devouring you with eyes and hands and mouths.

Yunjin kissed you first—hard, deep, dominant. She tasted like wine and need, her tongue sliding against yours as her fingers wrapped around you, stroking slow and intentional.

Winter moved to your chest, kissing down your collarbone, teeth lightly grazing your skin. “So sensitive,” she whispered, lips ghosting lower.

Somi straddled your thighs, looking up at you as she pulled your cock free. Her smile was filthy. “I call first taste,” she said—and then her mouth was on you, warm and slick and greedy.

You groaned, hand tangling in her hair, but she batted your hand away.

“Don’t rush me,” she pouted. “I want to savor this.”

Meanwhile, Giselle knelt beside her, lips pressed to your stomach, murmuring, “We’re going to ruin you tonight.”

And they did.

Somi sucked you with the enthusiasm of someone starving, tongue swirling, moaning like it got her off to feel you twitch on her tongue. When she finally pulled off, spit dripped from her lips, and she wiped it with the back of her hand.

“My turn,” Winter said simply, crawling between your legs. She took you deep in one go, gagging just slightly, eyes rolling up like she loved the stretch. The sounds were obscene—wet, messy, lewd.

Giselle kissed you while Winter sucked. Her hips ground against your thigh, clearly getting off just from watching you fall apart.

Yunjin whispered, “Don’t cum yet. We’re just getting started,” as she climbed onto your lap, lowering herself onto you without warning.

“Y-Yunjin—!”

“Shh,” she moaned, sinking fully down with a delicious whimper. “You feel even better than I imagined…”

The pace was brutal.

They took turns riding you—Winter moaning breathlessly every time she bounced, her voice high and sweet; Giselle dragging her nails down your chest as she fucked herself on your cock like she owned it; Somi grinding until you were begging to come, only to stop and edge you with a smug, cruel pout.

Yunjin whispered filth in your ear the whole time, kissing your throat, nails digging into your back.

“You’re gonna come for us, baby?”

“Fuck look how stretching our pussy baby”

“You want us to milk you dry?”

���Look at how desperate you are…”

“We could keep you tied to this couch all night.”

You were overstimulated—every nerve on fire—but you didn’t want it to stop.

Then Somi bent over on all fours on your coffee table. “One more round,” she said, looking back at you with flushed cheeks. “Use me however you want.”

Giselle bit her lip. “Let’s all watch.”

And they did.

As you fucked Somi hard, her cries echoing off the walls, the other three touched themselves, moaning softly, telling you how hot you looked, how good you made her sound, how lucky they all were.

You came hard—groaning her name, shaking, hips snapping as Somi gasped and pushed back, needing every last drop.

But they didn’t let you rest.

You barely had time to catch your breath.

After Somi collapsed onto your chest—sweaty, panting, and completely blissed out—the other three girls weren’t satisfied. Not even close.

“Up,” Yunjin said, standing at the doorway to your bedroom in nothing but your oversized shirt, which hung off one shoulder and covered just the very tops of her thighs. “You’re not done. Not until we all have you to ourselves.”

Giselle leaned in, voice purring. “One-on-one. No interruptions. You’re ours tonight.”

Winter dragged her nails down your back. “You’ll give us everything, baby.”

You looked at the four of them—flushed, soaked, insatiable—and realized something terrifying and arousing at once:

You were so screwed.

She led you into the room first, locking the door behind her with a smug click.

Yunjin didn’t pounce. She sat on the bed like a queen waiting to be worshipped, legs crossed, lips curled in a knowing smirk.

You stood there, hard again somehow, eyes wide.

She crooked a finger. “On your knees.”

You obeyed.

Her thighs parted slowly, revealing her soaked center. Her voice was thick with want. “You’re gonna use that mouth properly now, baby. Prove you’re worth the mess I’m about to make.”

You leaned in, tongue pressing to her clit, slow and deliberate.

She shuddered. “Fuck—yes… just like that.”

Her thighs locked around your head, hips grinding against your face as she started to lose composure. She tugged your hair, guiding your rhythm.

“You taste so good—you know that? You’re gonna eat until I say stop. And then I’m gonna ride you so hard you’ll forget the others even exist.”

You groaned into her, drunk on the way she moaned, on how wet she was.

And then, just like she promised—Yunjin pushed you down, mounted you, and rode you with a hunger that felt almost feral.

Every bounce of her hips was torture and bliss. She leaned forward, breath hot on your lips.

“You love it when I take control, don’t you?” she moaned. “You’re gonna cum inside me. I want you deep, filling me up, begging me to stop—”

You did.

Hard.

And she made you stay inside until you were soft.

Then hard again.

And came again.

You barely made it to the bathroom to splash water on your face before Winter appeared in the doorway.

“Your turn’s over,” she told Yunjin. “I’m next.”

Yunjin laughed breathlessly and kissed your jaw on the way out. “He’s all yours.”

Winter said nothing else. She just took your hand and led you to the bed.

Then she pushed you down and climbed on top of you in one smooth motion.

Her eyes were sharp, dangerous, but her voice was a whisper. “No teasing. I want you deep. Now.”

She didn’t ride like Yunjin.

Winter sank onto you with a sigh, leaned down to kiss your neck, and whispered filthy, desperate things against your skin.

“You make me so wet,” she breathed. “I’ve wanted this for months… fantasized about how you’d feel inside me…”

Her rhythm was slow but intense. Each grind hit deep, her body trembling with every thrust.

“I’m gonna cum like this,” she gasped, nails scratching lightly down your sides. “With you underneath me, helpless, mine—fuck, you feel so good…”

Her orgasm ripped through her with a strangled moan, legs shaking, lips crushed to yours.

But she didn’t stop.

“I need more,” she whined, moving again. “Don’t you dare hold back on me.”

She milked you—twice.

By the end, you were gripping her thighs, babbling her name, while she smiled, pleased and sweaty, collapsing against your chest.

“Still with us?” Giselle smirked, slipping into the room wearing her pajamas and nothing else.

You nodded weakly from the bed, body wrecked, but cock twitching back to life.

“God, you’re so hot like this,” she laughed, crawling over you. “All fucked out and still so eager.”

She pulled the hoodie off slowly, dramatically. “But with me? You’re not allowed to come unless I say so.”

You groaned, but she kissed it away.

Then she straddled your face.

“You know the rules. Make me cum first.”

You obeyed.

Giselle moaned—high-pitched, breathy, head thrown back. “Shit, fuck, you’re too good at this.”

She rocked against your tongue, grinding until her thighs trembled and her voice cracked.

Then she finally moved down, lined you up, and lowered herself with a moan so lewd it echoed.

She rode you like she wanted to destroy you—fast, relentless, teasing you right to the edge.

“Close?” she whispered, breath shaky.

You nodded.

She stopped.

“Beg.”

“Giselle, please—I can’t—please let me—”

“Say you’re my good boy.”

“…I’m your good boy.”

She smirked, started riding again. “Cum.”

And you did. Hard.

So hard you blacked out for a second.

She chuckled. “One more for good measure.”

She didn’t stop until you gave her two.

You thought you couldn’t go anymore.

You thought you were done.

Then Somi walked in with a bottle of water and a wicked glint in her eyes.

“Drink,” she said, sitting beside you on the bed. “We’re not finished until I say so.”

You sipped, panting.

She took the bottle away, then pushed you flat on your back.

“You remember earlier? When you fucked me on the coffee table?” she whispered, straddling you. “I was just getting started.”

She kissed you—wet, needy, tongues tangling—and then she lowered herself onto you, slowly, moaning.

“Oh my god… you’re still so big,” she gasped.

You grabbed her hips, tried to keep up—but Somi was ruthless. She fucked you like a pornstar—bouncing, grinding, slapping her ass against your thighs with each thrust.

“Give it to me,” she whined, sweat dripping down her neck. “Fill me up—all of it.”

You didn’t know how you had anything left. But her voice, her body, her expression—it forced it out of you.

You spilled inside her as she cried out, her body shaking around you.

But even as you trembled beneath her, she leaned down and whispered:

“One more.”

She made you go again.

And again.

Until you were twitching, panting, empty, wrecked.

When the door finally opened and all four girls re-entered the room, they looked pleased.

You, naked, sprawled across the sheets, sweat-soaked and dazed, could barely lift your head.

Yunjin laughed. “He survived.”

Winter smirked. “Barely.”

Giselle winked. “Better prepare yourself before round three.”

Somi leaned in close and kissed your cheek. “Rest up, baby. You’ve got four girlfriends now.”

You closed your eyes and whispered:

“…I’m never surviving another sleepover.”

Morning.

The sun barely lit the room. Birds chirped. But your body ached like you'd fought off a demon.

Your legs? Weak. Your cock? Surprisingly... hard.

The reason?

Four gorgeous girls, all sprawled across your bed in various states of undress.

Yunjin was on her side, her hand possessively gripping your thigh.

Winter had her head on your chest, soft breath ghosting over your skin.

Giselle slept with one arm draped around your waist.

And Somi? She stirred first, eyes sleepy—but shining with mischief.

“Mmm… morning wood?” she whispered, biting her lip.

You blinked. “…Somehow.”

She grinned. “Guess it’s time for round three.”

Ten minutes later, the girls were awake and eager.

“Let’s make it fun,” Giselle smirked, crawling onto the bed on all fours.

Somi followed, slapping her own ass. “Asses up, faces down. Let him pick.”

Yunjin and Winter looked at each other… then joined in.

Soon, all four of them were on the bed—lined up like sinful dolls, each arching their backs, presenting soaked pussies and tight asses with shameless pride.

Yunjin looked over her shoulder, licking her lips. “You’re gonna fuck every one of us. But here’s the twist.”

Winter smirked. “Switch holes. Every thrust.”

Your cock twitched violently.

“Start with me,” Giselle said, winking.

You walked up behind her, heart pounding.

One thrust. Deep into her slick pussy.

She moaned. Loud.

You pulled out, moved to Somi.

Slid right into her tight little ass.

“Fuck!” she yelped, gripping the sheets. “Oh my god yes—keep going—”

Next, you were inside Yunjin’s dripping cunt.

Then into Winter’s ass.

Then Giselle’s ass.

Somi’s pussy.

Yunjin’s ass.

Back and forth.

Every girl.

Every hole.

Each time you slammed in, they cried out in unison. Gasps. Moans. Wet sounds echoing through the room like music.

You grabbed hips. Spanked them. Heard the slap of skin-on-skin every time you rammed forward.

“Fucking switch again,” Somi whined. “Don’t stop—don’t fucking stop—”

Yunjin looked back, sweat on her brow. “Cum in whichever hole you want. But you better use us all.”

Winter was the loudest when you pushed into her ass again.

Her back arched, hands clenched into the sheets. “Oh my god—I’m gonna cum from just this—your cock feels so thick—”

You grabbed her hair, pounded harder.

She screamed, her orgasm gushing down her thighs as you pulled out and moved to Giselle again.

Giselle was panting, tongue out. “In my pussy—fuck me deep this time—”

You obeyed.

She was tighter now, wetter than ever.

You alternated between her ass and her pussy like it was nothing. Each time made her twitch, shake, cry out.

Somi kept reaching back to spread herself for you. “Right here, baby—come on—slam it in—fuck yes—!”

Yunjin?

She looked over her shoulder and begged, “In my ass. I want it rough.”

You delivered.

You felt it building—heat in your spine, balls tightening, everything overstimulated and raw.

But they wanted it.

All of them.

“Inside,” Giselle panted.

“Don’t hold back,” Winter gasped.

“Fill one of us,” Somi moaned.

Yunjin was the last. She turned her face just enough to say, “Come on, baby. Let us have it. Drain those pretty balls and let us feel it leak out of us.”

You slammed into her, into her ass, and came hard.

Your cum spilled down her thighs, thick, hot, messy.

And then—still twitching—you moved to Somi and pushed inside again.

You came again, right into her pussy.

Winter opened her mouth under you, desperate. You knelt over her, jerked, and gave her the third load across her tongue and cheeks.

Giselle?

She sucked the rest from your tip with a filthy slurp and swallowed everything.

All four girls collapsed onto the bed.

Your legs? Shaking.

Your cock? Finally soft.

Their asses? Dripping.

Your room?

Wrecked.

And you?

Dead.

Somi giggled as she curled up beside you. “Same time tomorrow?”

[gloomwitchwrites]

141 What If....

You ask him to leave the uniform on? 🥵🥵🥵🥵

I am feral over this. FERAL. Literally chewing on my own arm because I need to calm down. Your prompts always get me going. I totally blame you for this. Now, I went with a little variety here. We've got Kyle in formal military dress, John coming home from deployment, Johnny returning on break for a quickie, and Simon playing out a pre discussed fantasy. Enjoy!!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: established relationship, CNC, breeding, restraints, welcome home sex, quickies, formal events, semi-public sex, unprotected piv, sex in a car, dirty talk, brief knifeplay, light degradation

Word Count: 3.3k

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John’s return is delayed.

He was supposed to come home to you a month ago. But it wasn’t him that notified you about his postponed reunion. Someone from SAS contacted you via the post. The envelope held a singular piece of paper. No apology. Just black ink on a white sheet with an official letterhead. John has always been good about making sure you know when he’ll return. It's something you constantly worry about.

While on a mission, you won't hear from him—this you know. But whenever he is able, John makes an effort to let you know when to expect him or if he's okay.

To not hear from him is odd, and it stirs up all sorts of emotions, pushing your brain toward any number of possibilities. Each scenario appears briefly before sliding into another. They worsen—and then you’re sick, stomach twisted into a tight knot.

That piece of paper is on the kitchen counter. Untouched—but not forgotten. It said yesterday. And yesterday, John did not return.

You’re chewing on your fingernails. Pacing. Stressing.

It's the familiar squeak of the doorknob from the front door that finally stalls your racing thoughts. All that mental energy becomes physical. You're sprinting, throwing yourself at John the moment he enters.

He chuckles—the sound is pleasant and soothing to your heart.

“Didn’t think you’d be home,” he says, drawing you close.

Your answer is to wrap your arms around the back of his neck, and seize a kiss from him that says so much. You need John to know how much you’ve missed him—how worried you’ve been.

His hands on your hips tighten, squeezing slightly as he melts under your kisses. Each one is desperate. Needy. You savor him like you’ll never know this again. John's grip on you is firm, and much stronger than you can resist. He draws you away from him—not enough to create a separation—but enough to talk.

“Slow down, love. Let me look at you.” His hands move to your face, cradling your cheeks. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too," you reply. You pull him close again. "Need you." Just a murmur, hardly audible, but John hears it.

He does not resist. He gives in, accepting your love, answering every kiss and touch with one of his own. Hands roam, fingers cling, and yet you're not nearly close enough. You need him on his back with you atop him.

John breaks away, breathing heavy, lips slightly puffy from kissing you. "Bedroom."

You shake your head. "Right here,” you reply, going in for another kiss. “Uniform stays on.”

The middle of John's brow scrunches slightly in confusion, but your fingers are already looping in his belt buckles, guiding him into the living room. That brief moment of confusion morphs into a sultry smirk.

John allows you to guide, allows you to push him onto his back on the sofa. His hands never leave your body, they roam constantly even as you undo the front of his pants and shimmy them down to mid-thigh.

You have him in hand instantly, coaxing him to hardness quickly. The need for him is a driving force, positioning yourself above him, ready to impale yourself.

John's hand slips between your legs, fingers finding your center. "Your—fuck." The sound of your slickness greets him and John groans.

Placing your hands on his chest, John palms the base of his cock, lining it up. You don't slowly ease down. You drop, accepting every inch of him in one go. There is a brief flare of pain from the rapid intrusion, and then it's gone, replaced with the fullness of him inside you.

With your palms splayed wide, you're able to rock your hips, moving up and down his length in a steady movement that has both of you groaning.

"I missed you," he murmurs as you come back down on him. "Fuck—I missed you."

Your thighs start to burn with every bounce. John's fingers dig into your hips, dragging downward before ascending again. With the next roll of your hips, John meets you, thrusting up. It cuts a sharp gasp from your lips.

He grips harder, taking control. You cling to the front of his uniform, fisting the fabric as John brings you down just as he thrusts upward. It is not sweet. It is brutal and desperate. Each connection drags more pleasure out of you until your head falls back and you clench around him.

With a deep groan, John sits up, and effortlessly flips you over onto your back. Pinned beneath him, there is nowhere to go. All you can do is take what he gives.

John buries his face against your neck. "Love you so much."

You hook your heels behind his legs, urging him on. "Love you," you manage to gasp.

It is all sweat and heat. John's lips graze the line of your throat and then your chin. You turn toward him, the two of you meeting as he holds his body against yours, his release flooding your pussy.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle drapes his arm over your shoulder, tugging you against him, the noise of the function receding with every step. Usually when the two of you attend a formal function together, Kyle is in a suit, but this attendance was requested by Kyle's superior officer, Captain John Price.

Instead of a suit, Kyle wears his formal military dress. The uniform is freshly steamed and free of wrinkles. His shoes are polished to perfection. Like this, he's incredibly handsome. You've been admiring him all night, resisting the urge to touch him too much around people he works with on a regular basis.

"Can't wait to take this bloody thing off," sighs Kyle, lightly tugging on the neckline of his uniform.

You rest your head against his shoulder, savoring his warmth. "I think you look rather dashing."

"Dashing?" he laughs.

As the two of you enter the parking garage, you snag his hat, placing it on your head. Kyle's smile widens. He leans in for a kiss, greedily accepting what you offer him. Removing the car keys from his pocket, Kyle hits the button to unlock the vehicle. The SUV beeps, headlights coming on.

Kyle takes his hat back, holding it with one hand instead of putting it back on his head. He offers his mouth again and you close the distance.

"Can't wait to get that dress off you, love," he murmurs against your lips. “Been thinking about it all evening.”

You place your hand against his chest. "I think I'd like it if you leave the uniform on."

Kyle nearly chokes. "What?" he draws back slightly.

With a mischievous grin, you tug Kyle around the side of the SUV. The vehicle is in a corner spot, leaving the two of you tucked between it and a cement wall. There is no camera and no light. Both of you are hidden in shadow.

No one will notice the two of you unless they come looking.

You lean in slowly, offering your mouth. Kyle places his hand on the side of your throat, thumb slowly rubbing against the front of your neck. The kiss is honey-sweet, and tinted with seductive need. You seek another, and yet another until the two of you are gasping for air.

"Not here," murmurs Kyle, drawing back slightly.

Your hand slides downward, pausing at his belt. Kyle whispers your name, but there is no fight in it. If anything, it is lustful. Fingers toying with the belt, you kiss him again, loosening the buckle and then the front of his pants.

Reaching your hand inside, you find him hard and wanting.

"Someone will see," he groans, grabbing your wrist.

"Who will see us?" you reply softly. Kyle's gaze shifts outward to the parking garage.

"No one is around." You start to descend, opening his pants further.

Kyle's attention returns to you. His pupils expand as you take him in hand, painting your bottom lip with a pearly bead of cum. You present your glossy mouth to him, and Kyle brushes the pad of his thumb across it.

You lightly nip at that thumb, and then take him into your mouth. Kyle stifles his groan, but it comes out as a muted whimper. He gently cups the back of your head as you suck him down, hollowing your cheeks when you come back up.

This is just a tease. You want his resolve to slip.

Kyle doesn't break eye contact. He is completely focused on watching you. His dick twitches in your mouth, and Kyle grunts.

"Fuck, love. Come here."

With gentle tenderness, Kyle grasps the back of your neck, easing you off him. You extended your legs, leaning into him.

His voice is slightly husky. "I can't wait until we're home."

Kyle opens the rear passenger door and helps you up into the seat. You slide backward to the other end, Kyle following. With a hand on your throat, he pushes you onto your back. These next kisses are rough and possessive. Hungry. Claiming. You open for him, wanting to consume.

His free hand is gripping your dress, shoving it upward where it collects at your hips. Your tongue meets his the moment his fingers slip between skin and underwear. It is brief, and then he's drawing back only to bury his face between your legs.

Digging your heels into Kyle's back to stabilize yourself, you give in, moaning loudly as his tongue swirls a path up and down your sex. He teases just like you teased him. But it is short-lived.

Kyle is desperate for you. He finds your clit and stays put, tongue working quickly to send you over the edge. Your body shudders, a breathy groan escaping you as the orgasm hits. Still on your back, Kyle ascends, one hand pressed to the inside of your thigh while the other finds leverage against the car door just above your head. You lift your hips slightly, presenting your pussy to him.

He takes the hint, thrusting deep.

He does not go slowly. It is skin slapping against skin. It is all low groans and desperate fingers. His body weight keeps you pinned, and if anyone were to open door they'd have a clear view of his bare ass.

"Don't stop," you beg. "Please."

Kyle's answer is to seize your mouth, to force his air into your lungs, to firmly press his body to yours and swivel his hips, pelvis grinding against clit. Your hands fall on his ass, and then he's transformed. An animal. Rutting.

Surely, the car is shaking, but you hardly care. You only want him to finish. To give you every drop of his release.

You feel his muscles tighten under your hands, and then your bodies are sealed.

There is a small pause between then and the moment he kisses you, this time tenderly.

"So much for waiting," you tease.

Kyle’s exhalation is a pleased one. "Just wait until we get home."

John "Soap" MacTavish

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?"

Johnny's smile is devilish. "Came to see you."

"Me?" you laugh. "You just saw me this morning."

"And it wasn't nearly enough," coos Johnny, grabbing hip and waist, tugging you against him. "Missed you the whole time. Couldn't stay away."

Before you can form a reply, Johnny is lifting you up and onto the kitchen counter. He pushes everything up and out of the way, revealing your pussy to him.

"Johnny!" you exclaim.

With one hand on your thigh, Johnny uses his other hand to remove his belt and undo the front of his pants.

"I came home to fuck my wife." You instantly feel your cheeks grow hot. With a sultry smile, Johnny leans in but doesn't close the distance. "Would you like that?"

You nod. "Yes," you reply, voice nearly a whisper. "But—"

"But what?" he asks. You gesture at him. "The uniform? That stays on, love."

Guiding you wider, Johnny circles your clit with the pad of his thumb. The touch is electric, making you shiver as he toys with your sensitivity.

"Look at that," he purrs. "Look how wet and ready you are for me."

You whimper as Johnny tests your pussy with a finger.

"I think this deserves something bigger. What do you think, love?" He inserts a second and you whimper again. "Use your words."

"I want you inside me."

"I am inside you," he teases, pumping both fingers.

You shake your head, gasping as his thumb toys with your clit. "Your dick, Johnny."

"That I can do." His fingers are gone instantly, replaced with the head of his cock. He holds himself just inside, inching slowly until you've taken him to the base. "We'll have to make this quick. Can't be late and disappoint Price."

Johnny lightly swivels his hips, and then he's holding you in place, thrusting steadily. He kisses your lips, then your cheek. Resting his forehead against your temple, Johnny boxes you in, using your pussy for himself.

"You take me so well," he says softly. "Watch. Want you to watch."

Your gaze shifts downward, locking on to where your bodies meet. Keeping one hand on the countertop to stabilize yourself, you bring the other between your legs, fingers lightly playing with your clit.

"That's it," purrs Johnny. "Come for me."

A brief swirl and you're gone, squeezing hard around Johnny. He fucks you through it, grunting as he increases his pace. With a moan that claws up his throat, Johnny seals your bodies together, and his warmth floods your pussy. He thrusts lightly and stills.

A beat of silence, and then you both burst out into laughter.

"Fucking hell," he mutters, shaking his head.

"You came all this way on a break just to have sex with me?" you laugh.

Johnny leans back, grinning sheepishly. He glances down at his watch, smile fading. "Shit."

He pulls out and steps back, fumbling with his pants.

"Are you going to be late?" you ask teasingly.

Johnny tightens his belt and then helps you off the counter. With a quick kiss to the cheek, he heads out the door.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Every light in the house is off. The blinds are closed and it's completely dark except in one particular room.

The deep red glow calls out to you like a siren song. You stride toward it, moving through the hall silently like a shadow. The bedroom door stands open, revealing the blood-tinged space. From your point of view, nothing is out of place. All is calm and as it should be.

But Simon is here somewhere. Lurking. Watching.

This is what you wanted after all. An idea you passed off to Simon with the hope that he'd indulge your fantasy. Clearly, he took it to heart.

Adrenaline spikes in your blood as your gaze focuses on the bed. Attached to each corner are wrist and ankle cuffs. To be immobile and bred at Simon's pleasure is all you asked for, and here it is.

As you step forward, a large gloved hand slides over the front of your throat, squeezing. Simon is right behind you, and you feel every inch of him. Without even having to look, you know Simon is in full tactical gear. Parts of it dig into your back.

The leather of his gloves squeak as his fingers adjust against your throat. With a little pressure, he tilts your head back and you meet his whiskey-brown eyes. It's all you can see of his face. The rest is shrouded behind a balaclava.

"Do as I say," he growls. "Or you'll make this harder on yourself."

His command sends a bolt of need straight to your clit. Already, you feel a growing slickness between your thighs.

"Answer me if you understand."

"I understand," you murmur.

Simon makes a pleased sound deep in his throat. His thumb rubs a gentle line back and forth over the same spot.

His head tilts, lips pressing against your ear through the balaclava. "Then be a good little slut and get on your back."

Using his leverage on your throat, Simon lightly shoves you toward the bed. This time you turn around, facing him completely for the first time. He's dressed in all black tactical gear. Every inch of him is covered except his eyes, and his large frame fills the doorway.

When you take a step back, he takes a step forward. The backs of your thighs hit the bed, and you push yourself up and on, reclining until you're nearly horizontal. Simon saunters, gaze predatory and observing. His gloved hands hover just above your legs, pausing there before he bends slightly, reaching for an ankle cuff.

Simon glances between it and you languidly. You're not sure what his intentions are, not until he grabs your ankle with his other hand and tugs hard. You yelp, surprised, and then you kick out, attempting but failing to free yourself as Simon attaches the cuff into place.

"You said you understood," he growls, as you sit up to swing on him.

Simon snatches your wrist right out of the air. He hops onto the bed, kneeling as he grabs one of the cuffs for your wrists. Still, you fight and still you fail as he latches it in place.

You're not immobile but you're more restrained than before, movement restricted enough that you can't fight back like you want to. Not that you want to escape.

With a fluidity that surprises, Simon removes a knife from his boot and hooks it under the hem of your shirt. A sharp tug and the fabric surrenders to the blade. Simon tears it further, removing the garment completely.

As you use your one free arm to lash out, Simon is already prepared, blocking the blow and forcing it back to the bed. He attaches the cuff and returns the knife to your clothes, splitting your pants and tossing the remains aside.

You're on your back, completely naked and cuffed to the bed.

Simon's hand wraps around your throat, the knife tip dangerously close to your face. "I was going to worship your pretty pussy," he murmurs. "But I think I'll just take what I want."

It's all a game—a scene. You want Simon to use you, to fuck you ceaselessly, to do whatever the fuck he wants because he can.

Simon flips the knife and imbeds it into the bed above your head. Slowly, he removes his belt, tossing it aside. When he opens the front of his pants and eases them down a fraction, you nearly groan at the sight of his hardness. Simon palms the base of his cock.

"I won't be gentle," he says, gloved fingers pressing against your pussy.

He rubs back and forth, easing a little more from your body before grabbing your hips and slamming home. There is a brief flare of pain from the intrusion and then nothing at all except excitement.

"Your body is mine," he growls as he fucks you. "And for the next twenty-four hours, I'm going to breed this pussy until I'm satisfied."

You are unable to move, unable to do much but take it. Simon is situated between your spread legs, and you have a clear view of his cock sliding in and out of you. If you want an orgasm, Simon will have to grant it. Begging for it won't get you anywhere. You need to be good, and then he'll reward you.

Simon grunts as he thrusts, pace increasing as he nears his end. Watching him is lovely. His groan is lust-drenched, his orgasm sending a little shudder through him that you feel in your core.

Simon's gaze shifts to between your legs where he slowly pulls out. "What a fucking sweet sight," he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

His cum pools at your entrance, threatening to drip out. Soon you'll be overly full, a mess between your legs and on the bed.

Already Simon is stroking himself back to hardness. "Think that cunt of yours needs a bit more.

[heirofnight]

it's the shadows

pairing: azriel x reader (heavily), cassian x reader, rhysand x reader

word count: 1.2k (i intended for this to be a drabble but i can't ever shut the hell up)

summary: reader is close friends with az, cass, and rhys, but is very obviously pining for azriel. the four of you are drunk and cassian just has to know which one of them would be the best in bed. sexual tension ensues. duh.

while this entire debate was absolutely ridiculous - one may argue even downright childish - you couldn't stop the grin that was spreading across your cheeks.

you couldn't remember the last time you'd laughed this hard. your stomach was aching, cheeks sore. dried tears were collecting at the corners of your eyes. there'd be a lull in the conversation, a period of time that allowed all of you to calm down and collect yourselves, before you'd inevitably meet one of their mischievous gazes and fits of laughter would begin all over again.

"seriously, y/n?," cassian inquired, voice booming. you snorted at his dumbfounded expression, at the fact that the four of you had finally calmed down, just for cass to loop back to the topic that had you all howling in laughter in the first place.

"azriel?," he continued, pointer finger gesturing towards the male sitting opposite from you in the sitting room. cassian had a half-full wine glass in his large hand, the liquid sloshing around precariously as he motioned in the shadowsinger's direction. "the motherfucker doesn't even speak!," he finished, causing you to erupt in another alcohol-induced fit of giggles.

azriel smiled warmly at the sight, shaking his head in mock exasperation at his brother's disbelief. az took a sip from the glass of wine he'd been nursing at a much slower pace compared to the rest of you.

rhys chuckled now, sitting alongside cassian on the plush sofa. he shoved the war general on his broad shoulder playfully, gesturing towards azriel himself, "he doesn't need to speak in this particular scenario, brother," he purred, his own wine sloshing within his grip.

azriel's cheeks tinted red at the implication, shifting his gaze down to his lap to hide a dimpled smirk.

"and see, that's what i'm saying," you added, throwing your hands up in agreement. you sat on the floor, upon the cushioned carpet that spread throughout the sitting room. you glanced up at azriel, a fond smile playing across your lips as you met his bashful gaze.

"he doesn't need to use words, cassian. i stand by my original statement: azriel is absolutely the most capable male in bed out of the three of you," you couldn't even finish the sentence without giggling, awestruck at cassian's ability to always turn the conversation back to this topic in particular.

you'd been close to all three of them for so long, and cassian - with his overly-competitive nature - just had to know, from a female's perspective, which male you thought would be the best in the bedroom. even though your answer was always the same: azriel.

was it because you may have been harboring feelings for the aforementioned male? perhaps. however, you didn't need to be pining after him to come to that conclusion; it felt like the obvious choice, regardless.

azriel glanced over at you with silent pride flooding his gaze, and you winked at him playfully in response. "i've got your back, az," you slurred, alcohol heavy in your veins. you reached over to poke him in the kneecap gently, and he huffed out a laugh.

"thank you, sweet," he spoke, tone gravelly, and you felt your chest grow fuzzy at the nickname he reserved just for you.

"oh, come ON," cassian scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. rhys barked out a laugh, tossing his head back against the headrest of the quilted couch.

you laughed along with rhys, sitting closer to azriel's legs now. az reached down, smoothing a section of your hair that had grown disheveled during your laughing fits throughout the evening. you were hyper-aware of his touch, and currants of electricity shot down your spine as the contact mixed with the wine in your system.

"i'm going to go out on a limb here," cassian started, pausing to take a sip from his glass. you rolled your eyes, bracing yourself for the familiar statement preparing to spill from his lips. "and i'm going to say that your opinion on this particular topic is heavily biased," he finished, knowing hazel eyes glancing from you, up to azriel, and back down to you.

you groaned in mock annoyance, flipping your hand in a dismissive gesture.

"yeah, yeah, cass, i know," you huffed out a breath, narrowing your eyes, "you're so convinced that i want to be in azriel's bed," you finished, pausing for dramatic effect before speaking further. cassian scoffed, his eyes widening slightly as if to say duh.

the alcohol was making you feel bolder than normal, and honestly, it's not like you were completely shy about your attraction towards azriel. it was a commonly known fact, one that all of you tended to play into from time to time - an inside joke, a bit.

however, while the attraction was known, you'd never confessed to any of them your very real feelings for azriel. that aspect wasn't a joke to you in the slightest.

"it's the shadows," you deadpanned, shrugging your shoulders sloppily.

cassian and rhys paused for a moment, absorbing your statement. then, they both erupted into howling laughter, and you weren't far behind them. you heard azriel's low chuckle from where he sat behind you, and he sent one of those mentioned shadows from within his twining orbit to twirl through your hair playfully.

cassian collected himself, shaking his head as he wiped his eyes.

"what kind of shit are you into, y/n?," cass wheezed out, and rhys laughed harder at his follow-up question.

you sniffled, wiping your own eyes before responding, "i mean, you really cannot blame me," you mused, gesturing towards azriel once more, "have you really not stopped to consider this at all?," you widened your eyes, stunned.

as if to prove a point, you turned your head towards azriel, locking your curious eyes with his amused ones.

"azriel, have you or have you not used your shadows on someone during sex?," you asked, extremely forward.

he almost choked at the question, cheeks turning crimson. cassian and rhys resumed their howling, but you peered at him expectantly.

he couldn't deny you an answer, not when you looked at him like that - innocent-looking wide eyes, cheeks pink from the wine. and was there a large, screaming part of him that wanted to entice you with his bedroom habits?

perhaps.

he nodded once, a dimpled smirk appearing across his pink cheeks.

"i have," he spoke, deep voice cutting through the laughter.

everyone paused at his words - you'd all half-expected him to evade the question altogether. but here he was, divulging life-altering, world-ending information that had your brain short-circuiting in one fatal blow.

the silence was deafeningly loud, and your expression shifted in a way that had azriel knowing exactly what you were thinking. your eyes had widened and glossed over, your mouth was agape. his smirk grew, forming into something more playful.

and to prove his point, he sent one more shadow your way to lightly twirl through your fingers and caress up your arm, looping around your neck gently.

cass sent a low whistle into the dead silence of the room, croaking out a laugh. "well, fuck, az," he chuckled, downing the rest of his drink.

"you win," cassian added, awestruck - shaking his head in defeat.

you didn't even hear what was happening around you, too focused on azriel - his darkened gaze as he peered down at you, and the feeling of that tendril of shadow tightening around your throat in silent challenge.

a/n: i'm so sorry. i'm spamming u with all of these ideas but hear me out, i have to get them out immediately. pls don't hate me. but this one had me sweating lmfao. sucker for sexual tension as always!!!

[kxsagi]

Hiii, first of all i want to say that your writing is sooo good.like you're literally my fave author in this app and I love how you characterize the bl boys. Anyways can I request blue lock guys with a single mom reader and how the guys react to the fact that she's a single mom(maybe the father left reader when she got pregnant or you can write whatever scenario you want regarding the bio father) and their interaction with reader's child. If you could, pls include isagi, bachira, nagi, reo, rin and sae.

Also take care and have a great day<333

“𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐮𝐩”

a/n: OMG TYSM??? AAA THAT IS SO SWEET! take care and have a great day as well you pretty soul ❤️

i love the domestic fluff behind this request + reader def has another kid with them after

ft. isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, nagi seishiro, itoshi rin, itoshi sae

isagi yoichi

he’s surprised at first, but not in a bad way, just wide-eyed, taking it all in. 

“you’re a mom?” he blinks. “like… a real one? like… diapers and everything?” 

once he processes it, he’s all in. 

isagi grew up with supportive parents, so he has a lot of respect for the strength it takes to raise a kid alone. 

if you tell him the father walked out on you, he gets super serious, quiet and tense in a way you haven’t seen before. 

“you don’t have to tell me everything now, but if he ever tries to come back, you let me deal with him.” and the way he says it? dead serious. 

when he meets your kid for the first time, he brings a little soccer ball and awkwardly crouches down like he’s meeting royalty. 

“hi! i’m… yoichi. i kick balls for a living.” 

you: “okay let’s… rephrase that.” 

but it works. he’s silly, energetic, and so patient – your kid absolutely adores him. 

he’ll start doing commentary while the kid’s eating cereal, like it’s a world cup final. 

“AND HE SCORES THE LAST FROOT LOOP! WHAT A LEGEND!” 

you catch him googling “how to be a good stepdad” at 3 AM. you don’t bring it up. but you definitely screenshot it. 

bachira meguru

bachira lights up when you tell him. 

“you have a little gremlin too?!” 

he’s thrilled. he doesn’t ask anything about the father unless you bring it up. he’s more focused on how he can be a fun and loving person in your child’s life. 

he sees your kid and immediately goes “wanna see my monster voice?” and makes the weirdest, funniest noise ever. 

the two of them are chaotic together. 

you walk into the living room and there’s glitter everywhere, paper hats on both of them, and he’s letting your kid draw a mustache on his face. 

“we’re pirates now,” bachira says, completely serious. “you have to pay the glitter tax.” 

when your kid calls him “meguru,” he beams. when they accidentally call him “dad” one day? he tears up a little. 

you: “you okay?” 

him, teary-eyed: “i would die for that child.” 

also probably teaches your kid to climb furniture and you have to ban them from the couch for a week. 

nagi seishiro

“oh,” he says when you tell him, blinking slowly. “that’s kinda cool.” 

nagi doesn’t react big. he just accepts it immediately, like it’s just another part of you. 

but inside? he’s kind of in awe. like you raised a tiny human? by yourself? sounds exhausting. 

“you must be really strong,” he mumbles, head on your shoulder. 

he’s surprisingly good with kids. laid-back, unbothered, and doesn’t treat them like they’re fragile. 

your child is obsessed with sitting on his shoulders while he walks around the apartment like a lazy giraffe. 

he lets them play games on his phone, and one time they accidentally deleted a rare gacha pull. he just shrugged. 

“they’re more fun to hang out with than reo.” 

he naps with them on the couch and sleeps through them using his hair as a blanket. 

he gets attached without even noticing. one day he buys a switch for them and says it’s “because they’re annoying when they’re bored” but you find it in his shopping history under “gift for my mini me.” 

itoshi rin

freezes when you tell him. 

absolutely panics inside but tries to stay stoic. 

“oh. okay. i see.” (he doesn’t see anything. his brain is buffering.) 

but once he calms down, he starts asking thoughtful, gentle questions. 

“what do they like to eat?” 

“do they know their father?” 

“are you… okay?” 

when you explain your ex bailed after the pregnancy, he clenches his jaw and gets really quiet. 

he just nods and says, “that’s not your fault. he’s pathetic.” 

rin’s not the best with kids at first. he’s awkward, stiff, stands like a statue, but he’s trying so hard. 

your kid hands him a toy and rin just… holds it. like it’s a grenade. 

“do i… do i play with it?” 

but one afternoon, your kid falls asleep on his lap and something in him just softens. 

from then on, he’s all in. buys extra snacks for them, watches their shows even if he doesn’t get them. 

“this blue dog… why is he emotional?” 

“it’s bluey, rin. let it happen.” 

itoshi sae

you expect him to be judgmental. he’s not. at all. 

he hears “i’m a single mom” and just says “okay.” 

“you’re still hot. and you’re a good mom. sounds like a win to me.” 

he doesn’t ask about the father unless you bring it up. when you do, he’s indifferent on the outside, but furious on the inside. 

“he left? while you were pregnant?” 

you nod. 

he just hums and says, “if he shows up, tell him to meet me. i’ll ruin his life.” 

when he meets your kid, he keeps his usual cool attitude, but your child’s the only one who gets to see him smile freely. 

your kid: “can you make silly faces?” 

sae: “no.” 

also sae, five seconds later: pulling the most cursed expression you’ve ever seen. 

he buys expensive stuff for your kid without blinking – custom sneakers, private tutors, limited edition toys. 

“i like spoiling them. deal with it.” 

you catch him once, watching your kid sleep while he absentmindedly brushes their hair out of their face. 

he looks at you and says, “this is the only family i’ve ever actually wanted.” 

yeah. you cry. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[aventurineswife]

“Drop your reqs yeah 🧍‍♀️plz”

Your wish is my command.

Category: Fluff |

Characters: Sunday, Dan Heng, Aventurine |

Scenario: One night you couldn’t rest, requesting to accompany them if they’re comfortable. You both ultimately share a bed, and they learn you’re extremely clingy during your sleep. Hands slipping beneath their shirts, leg thrown over them, cuddling them like a Koala to a tree. Y’know the deal. |

Could be mutual pinning or already established. anything you wish to write!

“Cling to Me, Dreamer”

Tags: Sunday x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Soft moments, Comfort, Co-sleeping, Vulnerability, Gentle intimacy, Quiet affection, Sleepy moments, Relationship development.

A/N: you never disappoint, do you, sweetheart? 🤭💖

Sunday was always awake at odd hours, often seated near the window of his cabin aboard the Astral Express, staring out at the void of stars. When you approached him one sleepless night, your shy request to join him brought a small, amused smile to his lips.

“If it brings you peace,” he murmured, gesturing toward the bed. His voice, soft and airy, was a balm in the stillness.

You hadn’t intended to fall asleep so easily, but exhaustion claimed you once you settled beside him. Sunday remained seated on the edge of the bed, gazing out at the cosmos, until he felt a weight press against his back. Your arms had looped around his waist, and in your sleep, you clung to him as though he were the only anchor in a vast, uncertain world.

Sunday froze, his breath catching. Your touch was warm, grounding in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Carefully, he shifted so he could lie beside you. But even then, you didn’t let go, nuzzling closer with your hands wandering up beneath his tailcoat. Your legs tangled with his, locking him in place.

Sunday’s wings fluttered slightly, his halo tilting as his emotions stirred. Vulnerability wasn’t something he indulged in often, but as he looked at your peaceful face and felt the rhythmic rise and fall of your breath, he allowed himself to relax. His arm draped over you, hesitant at first, before settling securely.

“You’re relentless, even in dreams,” he whispered, a faint smile playing on his lips.

For the first time in a long while, Sunday felt a quiet warmth, and with it, the courage to close his eyes and rest.

Dan Heng valued his solitude, often retreating to the archive room for quiet reflection. When you knocked on his door that sleepless night, he seemed taken aback by your request.

“If you’re sure…” he said softly, stepping aside to let you in. His calm demeanor belied the slight tension in his shoulders.

You assured him it was fine, settling on the corner of his bed while he returned to his reading. But as the hours stretched on, your exhaustion won out. Dan Heng noticed when your breathing evened out, a soft sigh escaping you as you shifted closer in your sleep.

When he tried to move away slightly, your arms instinctively latched onto him. One hand slipped beneath his shirt, your fingers brushing against his skin as if seeking warmth. A leg hooked over his, effectively pinning him in place.

Dan Heng’s face turned crimson, his usual stoicism faltering. He shifted awkwardly, unsure if he should wake you or simply endure. But as the moments passed, he found himself relaxing into your embrace. The warmth of your body and the quiet comfort of your presence began to ease the tension he hadn’t realized he carried.

“You’re troublesome, even when you sleep,” he muttered under his breath, though his tone was fond.

Carefully, he adjusted his position, resting his head against yours. For the first time in what felt like forever, Dan Heng let his guard down, lulled to sleep by your steady breathing and the comforting weight of your embrace.

The house you and Aventurine shared was as extravagant as the man himself, with sleek furnishings and a view of a shimmering cityscape through the tall glass windows. That night, you found him lounging on the oversized sofa in the living room, a glass of wine in hand. He raised a brow when you approached, your sheepish expression catching his attention.

“Couldn’t sleep, huh?” he asked, his voice light, teasing. “And you came to me for company? I’m flattered.”

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics but nodded, mumbling something about how his presence always seemed to ease your nerves. His smirk softened into something gentler.

“Well, the couch is cozy, but I think we both know the bed’s more inviting.” He set down his glass and offered you his hand, guiding you to the bedroom with a theatrical bow. “Just don’t blame me if you end up tangled in the sheets—I’ve been told I’m irresistible.”

You scoffed but followed him, finding solace in his playful banter. Aventurine stretched out on the bed, folding his arms behind his head as he watched you settle beside him. He seemed content to simply observe you for a while, his eyes glinting in the low light.

Sleep came easily for you, but for Aventurine, it didn’t take long to realize you were a clingy sleeper. At first, he chuckled under his breath, the sound low and amused, as your arms wrapped around him. Then your hands slipped beneath his shirt, your touch warm against his skin, and a leg threw itself over his.

“Well, aren’t you full of surprises,” he murmured, his smile twitching at the corners.

Despite his usual bravado, Aventurine found himself oddly affected by your closeness. His smirk faded into something softer as he adjusted himself to accommodate your weight, his hand coming to rest lightly on your back. For all his confidence, moments like this felt rare, and he wasn’t about to ruin it with his usual quips.

“Sleep tight, darling,” he whispered, his voice unusually tender. “Though I think you’re holding onto me tighter than necessary. Not that I’m complaining.”

As the night stretched on, Aventurine lay awake for a while, marveling at the quiet intimacy of the moment. He didn’t mind being your anchor, not tonight. With a soft sigh, he let his eyes close, a sense of peace washing over him that felt as rare and precious as the stars outside.

[harrywavycurly]

Delicate: Pretend

Masterlist: Here

CW: Language, mentions of drinking/being drunk, smut (p in v, fingering), dirty talk, brief moment of anxiousness and insecurity.

A/N: This is the last part of this mini series and I hope y’all enjoy it! This has been a fun little series to get me more comfy with writing smut and y’all have been so sweet!! Don’t worry this isn’t the last time you’ll see these two! 🌟

Word Count: 11.7K

Tag List: @masochistfork @dipmeinhoneyh @sunshinemoonsposts @sweetmoonlove0214 @maudie-duan @umadirectioner @littlemomentsofbeauty @sunflower-tia @tulips4harry @gmikaelson @fangirl509east @howling-wolf97 @outofthisworl-d @namoreno @blckburd @triski73 @prettygurl-2009 @hopefullimaginer123 @somewiseguy @emmie2308 @delanie881dlover13 @frankyrose7 @matildasatellite @run-for-the-hills @mema10 @indierockgirrl @mads3502 @robinsue87 @finelineryy @spinninc @angeldavis777 @swiftmendeshoran

Summary: Drunk confessions change things Harry handles it all wrong🌟

“So yer tellin’ me you don’t-” Niall pauses as his blue eyes glance down to Harry’s phone that’s face up on the small table they are standing at in the middle of the busy pub they’ve only been in for a little over an hour. “Uh your phone is going off.” Niall states as he points to the device currently lighting up and making the table shake with its vibrations. Harry’s brows pinch together as he looks down and sees your contact name flashing on the screen along with a photo of the two of you backstage when you surprised him at one of his first solo shows in New York.

“Oh sorry let me-”

“Does that say Muffin?” Harry sends the Irishman a glare as he picks his phone up, his thumb hovering over the bright green answer button.

“It says mind your own fucking business.” Niall just lets out a loud laugh at Harry’s harsh but still moderately playful tone, he holds his hands up in mock surrender as Harry turns to walk out towards the patio area before hitting the green answer icon and bringing the device to his ear.

“Hey-” his greeting is cut off by a woman’s voice that he faintly recognizes making him quirk a brow as he stands off to the side of the patio that’s only being occupied by a few people enjoying a smoke.

“Harry? This is Cindy we just met a-”

“I remember. What’s going on?” He tries his best not to be snippy and come across as rude but his heart is currently on the verge of beating out of his chest as a sense of worry begins to creep its way towards the front of his mind making every single horrible scenario that could possibly involve you start to play on a loop.

“Uh well we had-or more like she had a few drinks and is upset about something but-”

“But what?” He asks as he pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger as he does his best to wait patiently for Cindy to finish explaining the situation, already knowing you’re a bit tipsy while he’s not around to make sure nothing happens to you causing a pit of anxiety to form in his stomach.

“She wants to go home and uhm- well I don’t know where she lives and she can’t really tell me.” It takes Harry half a second to head back inside when Cindy drops the news on him that you’re wanting to go home but are currently not in a clear enough state of mind to tell this poor woman where home is.

“I’m on my way.” He doesn’t let her say anything else before he’s ending the call, he does however make a mental note to apologize for his less than friendly tone and bluntness when he sees Cindy later. He lets out a sigh as he begins checking the location setting in your contact information so he can see where you’re at and it doesn’t shock him one bit to see you’re exactly where he left the two of you before he called Niall for a night out.

“Everything alright with the muffin?” Niall asks as he places his near empty pint glass down as Harry approaches the table.

“She’s drunk.” Is all he says as he places his phone on the table and reaches into his back pocket for his wallet. Niall raises an eyebrow when Harry tosses down more than enough cash to cover the three beers they’ve had between them. “I have to go get her and take her home.”

“Ah bestfriend duties huh?” Harry doesn’t miss the slightly suggestive tone of Niall’s voice as he says the word bestfriend.

Like somehow Niall knows all about the filthy things the two of you have done and the mixture of emotions that have begun to rise to the surface as an unforeseen side effect of them. But he doesn’t, he can’t, because Harry didn’t have the time to get enough liquid courage pumping through his veins to tell him before Cindy called and informed him of your current situation. So he just brushes it off as Niall being his obnoxious self and rolls his eyes at him when he shoots a wink his way after Harry grabs his phone.

“Yes now tell Amelia she’s an actual saint for putting up with you and that if she still needs a rebound guy I’m available.”

“Oh fuck off like she’d want to be with you after being with me?”

“I’d show her what being with a proper gentleman is like.”

“Are you having a fucking laugh? In no way are you a proper gentleman H you-you leave people on read for months and then show up out of the blue on their doorstep and-”

“It’s called a depressive episode Niall everyone has them and I showed up at your door because it was supposed to be a surprise you twat.”

“A surprise? Harry I didn’t even think you had my new address! That’s how long it had been since we talked.”

“We share locations of course I have your new address now I’m sorry for calling you and then leaving so soon but she-she needs me and-” Niall just holds up a hand while shaking his head making Harry stop his rant halfway through.

“It’s okay I understand Harry you don’t need to apologize. You should go get her. ” Niall tells him with a smile that makes Harry feel like Niall definitely knows something is going on between the two of you he just doesn’t know to what extent. “Better run as fast as you can though.” He adds with a mischievous grin as he brings his beer up to his lips to take a sip, Harry raises an eyebrow in confusion making Niall chuckle.

“What are you on about?”

“Ya know.” Harry stares at the blue eyed man like he had six heads making Niall let out a frustrated huff. “Because you’re the damn muffin man.”

“That’s the gingerbread man you idiot.” Harry says with a snarl only making Niall lean his head back and laugh while Harry reaches over and snatches the cash from the table. “Pay for your own shitty beer.” He snaps as he shoves the cash into his front pocket before turning to walk towards the front of the pub.

“Is it okay if I tell people I know you?” Niall shouts causing Harry to raise his hand up and shoot Niall the bird on his way out the door making his best mate laugh even louder knowing he was able to get a rise out of him.

“Fucking Horan always with the jokes.” He mumbles once he’s outside and heading towards the restaurant you and Cindy are at.

It only takes Harry ten minutes and one car laying on their horn and tossing a few unsavory words at him when he crosses the street while they were making a right turn until he is standing in the doorway of the very same restaurant he left you at after hearing you tell Cindy not once, but twice how much of just a friend he is to you. He runs a hand through his hair as he prepares himself to see you, not that he doesn’t want to see you it’s just that he hasn’t had an adequate amount of time to deal with these new feelings he’s discovered he has for you to be able to be in the same room with you without potentially making it extremely weird. But it becomes clear to Harry the closer he gets to the booth you are still sitting in that you’re in no condition to notice if he’s being weird or not, his eyes scan the table in front of you that consists of three empty martini glasses and a plate that now just has some sad little crumbs instead of the mountain of fries he watched the waiter bring you over an hour ago.

“Well looks like I missed quite a party.” Harry’s tone is light and playful as he walks up to the table, Cindy looks over at him with a relieved expression on her face while you on the other hand rest your elbow on the table and tuck your chin into your palm before speaking to him.

“Yeah. You did.” You state with a slight edge as you look up at him, your eyes are glossed over and the tip of your nose matches the light shade of pink your cheeks have turned due to the drinks you’ve managed to finish in a short amount of time.

“What’s the occasion?” He asks as Cindy looks back at you and gives you a smile before she starts to slide out of the booth.

“Can’t tell you.” Harry rubs his lips together to hold off the smile as you try your hardest to sound stern and serious but you have a silly little lopsided grin on your face that makes you come across as anything but.

“I’m sorry but I have to go I have a flight home tomorrow and-”

“You’re leaving me too? No-no you can’t go you just got here.” Harry tries not to let the first few words hit him in the gut as he watches you reach out for your friend who gives you a grin and a breathy laugh.

“I know I’m sorry but next time I’m in town I’ll call you and we can meet up for dinner or something.” She offers as she reaches over and grabs your outstretched hands, giving them a nice squeeze before she lets go.

“Okay.” You say with a pout, Harry turns his attention away from you and over towards Cindy who is tossing the strap of her crossover bag over her shoulder.

“Sorry about how I was earlier I didn’t mean to come off as rude I just wasn’t expecting to be dealing with this tonight.” Cindy gives him a small smile as she places her hand on his arm.

“It’s okay I understand.” Harry feels an odd familiarity in the way she says the four simple words to him and the way her smile seems as if she’s almost hiding something. “It was lovely to meet you-have a good night.” She’s off and walking towards the door before he can think too much into it making him turn all his attention back to you, his very tipsy bestfriend that almost two hours ago he realized he was in love with.

“Hi love.” Harry reaches his hand down and places it on your shoulder, the pout still etched on your face as you look at his hand. “Ready to-”

“You just left.” It’s a mixture of your words and your sad almost watery hushed tone that makes him feel the first crack in his heart that’s already confused and working overtime due to the near anxiety attack he’s been fighting off ever since answering the phone not even fifteen minutes ago.

“I thought you’d like to spend some time with-”

“You thought wrong.” Your tone is harsh but soft as you brush his hand off your arm and slide out of the booth, Harry uses the time it takes you to stand up to flip through the events of the evening to see where he misread any of the signals or misheard anything that would’ve given him the idea that you wanted him to stay.

“Just wanna go home.” You mumble as you lean over into the booth to grab your clutch, Harry’s arm instinctively wraps around your waist when he sees you wobble just a bit once you’re standing back upright.

“Okay.” He says softly not wanting to speak any louder than you, afraid it’ll cause your lower lip that’s tucked between your teeth to start wobbling and your eyes to finally allow the tears he can tell you’re trying to will away with blinks and a deep breath start to fall.

To his surprise you let him keep his arm around you the whole walk out of the restaurant and even allow him to slide his hand to your lower back to maneuver you away from the side of the sidewalk that’s closest to the oncoming traffic. He doesn’t dare to look over at you the whole walk back to your apartment, he can feel the change in the air that’s circulating around the two of you and he isn’t ready to deal with it just yet. So instead he just uses his key and opens your front door, holding it open for you before he slowly follows behind so he can use the few minutes it takes to close and lock it to try and gather his thoughts before having to walk into your living room where he knows you’ll be sitting on the armrest of your couch trying to clumsily take your shoes off.

“Is it easy for you?” Your question catches him off guard as he takes a few steps into your kitchen where he sees you leaning against your island, your shoes are still on and your clutch looks as if you just tossed it onto the counter next to you. Harry can’t help but raise an eyebrow as he creates some space between the two of you by heading into your living room that is open to the kitchen.

“Is what easy?” He asks as he turns so he’s facing you but leaning against the back of your couch. He’s glad he’s gripping on the back of it for support as he finally looks you in your eyes, they look almost twice as big with all the tears he can see brimming the edge of your waterline that he knows will be streaming down your face within the next few blinks.

“Leaving me.” Harry feels as if all the air got knocked out of him as he hears the way you’re trying to hold back your emotions, but he watches them betray you as your bottom lip starts to tremble and the first tear rolls down your cheek. “You do it a lot and-and sometimes you make it look so easy that I just want to know if-”

“I make it look easy?” He asks dumbfounded making you just shrug as you wipe at your face trying to get rid of any evidence that your emotions might be winning at the moment. “Leaving you is never easy it’s-it’s the hardest part of my day actually and that’s just on a regular basis don’t even get me started on how bad it is when I’m leaving for months at a time.” He answers as he pushes off the couch and takes a few steps towards where you’re standing in your kitchen.

“Then why do you do it?” Harry feels another crack begin to form in his heart when your voice breaks and you look away from him and down towards your shoes that he knows you’re going to need help unbuckling in your tipsy and emotional state.

“You always leave like-like you left me for a whole week and then you stay the night and-and we do things and then you leave in the morning or after lunch and tonight you-you just got up and left me without even really saying anything just have fun and-and then you were gone.” Harry’s hands are on your face by the time you’re done letting all your thoughts tumble out of your mouth in a slightly slurred, jumbled mess.

“I’m sorry love I’m so sorry.” His thumbs brush some tears away as they gently wipe under your eyes. “I didn’t know you wanted me to stay.” He answers truthfully because you’re very good at telling him and pretty much anyone else what you want so hearing how upset you are with how things have been going recently makes him want to pull you into his chest and hold you until you fall asleep or forgive him, whichever comes first.

“You never asked.” You tell him with a sniffle that makes the corners of his mouth droop downwards. “I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Harry leans in and places a kiss to your forehead as you let out a shaky breath and close your eyes making a few tears roll down your already soaked cheeks.

“I didn’t mean to fall for you but-but I did and now I feel like I’m going insane every time you leave because I miss you so much and god you think there’s something going on with me and Zayn but-but we only kissed one time on a drunk dare years ago and-and I’m-I’m sorry for making you do this all because I got fired.” Harry takes a half step backwards so he can get a good look at you after you let out a sigh as if you feel a sense of relief having gotten all that off your chest. Your eyes open and immediately find his, your hands come up to wrap around his wrists as his hands stay holding the sides of your face.

“You don’t have to say sorry you didn’t force me into this I wanted to do it I-I like taking care of you.” He sees a ghost of a smile tugging at your lips as you give his wrists a small squeeze.

“Sometimes when we are out and you’re holding my hand I like to pretend it’s not just because I’m your muffin but because you actually want to because you’re-you’re just mine and I think about what it would be like to have that all the time.”

“To have what all the time love?”

“You being mine and not just-”

“Just Harry?”

“Exactly.” You say with a deep sigh as you use your hands around his wrists to gently pull them away from your face. “But it’s stupid because look at me-I have my shoes on still and-and no job I’m-I’m a total mess.” You grumble as you point to your feet with a huff as you step around Harry and only slightly stumble your way to your couch so you can lean against the armrest and try to lean down and unbuckle the strap of your sandals. It’s this little action that makes him very much aware how gone you are, and how you probably won’t remember much of this conversation tomorrow.

“You’ve always been a mess.” Harry lightly teases as he walks over and kneels down so he can undo the straps of your shoes for you earning him a watery laugh from you.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with me like this-even though it’s your fault be-cause you left.” You whisper as you run a hand through his hair, giggling to yourself when you accidentally cause some pieces to fall into his face.

“I’m sorry I’m the reason you got like this.” He responds trying to cover how upset he is with himself giving you a smile that your martini fogged mind won’t notice isn’t genuine.

“If you forgive me I’ll forgive you.” Harry looks down at your outstretched hand with a chuckle, you smile when he places his and in yours. “Thanks for taking me home.” You tell him as you drop his hand and wrap your arms around him for a hug that he instantly reciprocates by wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest.

“I’ll get you some water and aspirin to keep your head from throbbing too bad in the morning.”

“Will you be here?” You tilt your head so you can look at him. “In the morning?”

“Do you want me to be?”

“Yes.” Harry just gives you a smile as he leans down and kisses the top of your head.

“Okay then I’ll be here.”

It doesn’t take him long to wrangle you into the comfort of your soft sheets, the only obstacle for him having to wrestle you a bit so he could take your dress off and slip one of his t shirts over your head as you whined about being too tired to care what you slept in. But Harry knows you, he knows you’ll get all huffy and puffy in the middle of the night having to deal with the way the dress feels too tight while trying to sleep and he’ll wake up next to your naked body in the morning and that’s something he really doesn’t think he has the mental bandwidth to deal with right now. So once he finally gets you to drink some water and take your aspirin he is tucking you into bed, a soft kiss to your forehead that has your eyes closing and a soft sigh leaving your lips.

“Goodnight love.” He whispers to which you just mumble something incoherent before rolling over onto your side. He runs a hand over his face as he closes your bedroom door and walks into the living room.

“Fuck.” He mumbles to himself as he takes a seat on the edge of your couch, not being able to shake the uneasy feeling he gets at the thought of going in there and sleeping in the same bed he had you moaning and crying out his name in just this morning. Because now he knows things haven’t just changed for him but for you as well, the only difference is that you won’t remember talking about it while Harry is left carrying this new information around like an extra weight strapped to his heart.

So he gives himself some time to sit and process everything for a while before he eventually kicks off his jeans and slides into bed with you silently clinging to the idea that maybe, just maybe tomorrow morning the martinis won’t have washed away your memories of the previous evening and you’ll remember the confessions you said between little sniffles while tears rolled down your cheeks. But as he gets comfortable and you let out a tiny whimper before your hands find him in the dark to pull him closer to your side of the bed, Harry begins to understand he’s not that lucky and you most likely have already forgotten everything you said to him.

Harry swears there’s a whole layer of hell dedicated to the exact form of torture he’s enduring right now as you snuggle into his side and nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck while your hand that was resting on his chest just a few moments ago begins to slowly slide down to a very obvious destination. He’s never denied you before, not even a few weeks ago when he was half asleep on the couch and all you wanted was to have his cock in your mouth or when you were a few drinks in and were a needy mess for him after joining him at a gallery opening just begging for him to put his mouth on you, he always gives in and ends up giving you whatever you want.

And for a moment he thinks maybe he should just let you have your way, since that is his role in a very specific part of your life, to take care of you in anyway you need him to but the larger part of him, your bestfriend quickly shoves that line of thinking out the window the moment he feels your hand dip under the waistband of his boxers. Because knowing what he knows makes him feel a pang of guilt at the idea of allowing himself to feel the pleasure of your touch, even if at this very moment nothing would make him happier than to let you use him to find your own pleasure. He can’t risk this coming back and biting him in the ass because with the way his luck seems to be running out he knows it’s bound to happen eventually and he refuses to let his friendship with you be in jeopardy just because he couldn’t practice a bit of self control.

“Good morning love.” His voice is thick as he cracks his eyes open and gently wraps his large hand around your delicate wrist before your soft fingers can grab a hold of his hardening length. “How you feeling?” He asks as he drags your hand back up his chest placing it over his heart, placing his overtop and running his thumb over your knuckles.

“I feel okay.” You mumble against the sensitive skin of his neck, your lips brushing against the spot below his ear has a shiver running down his spine and straight to his cock making him close his eyes. “Just a little headache but-”

“I’ll make some coffee.” He’s sliding out of bed before you can even blink and register what’s happening. “Caffeine helps with headaches.” He adds without so much as glancing over at you to see your confused face as you sit up and watch him all but run out your bedroom door.

“Harry.” Your voice is a little rough due to the tears you shed the night before as it calls out for him from the bedroom just as he is pouring water into your coffee pot. He lets out a sigh as he runs both hands through his hair giving it a firm tug at the roots to try to help him ground himself and remind himself that his friendship with you in the end is worth more than getting laid.

“Yes love?” He asks with a warm smile as he leans against the doorway of your bedroom. You raise an eyebrow as you place your hands in your lap and tilt your head to the side as if you’re trying to decide if something is off with him or not and Harry hopes your slightly blurry vision from sleeping in your mascara will help conceal his fidgeting hands and the way his smile doesn’t quite match the gentle tone of his voice.

“How-what happened last night?” There it is, the question he knew was coming and the justification he needed to feel a little better about his abrupt departure from the comfort of your bed.

“You had a few drinks with Cindy and-”

“Oh god the martinis.”

“They get you every time I don’t know why you still order them.”

“Because they taste good and I like the cute little olives on a stick.” Harry lets out a chuckle and shakes his head at your reasoning for still preferring a martini when you go out for drinks. “Did she take me home or-”

“I brought you home.” He answers making you slowly nod your head as your eyes dart around the room as if you’re looking for clues to help you piece together what took place last night.

“On a scale of one to ten how embarrassing was I? Did I try to sing Madonna on the patio again?” You ask with a hint of almost fear in your voice that makes Harry give you a reassuring smile as he shake his head no.

“You were fine just a bit emotional that’s all-no Madonna or Cher on the patio.”

“I do enjoy a good cry when I’m drunk that’s for sure.”

“I’m going to go finish making some coffee.” He tells you as you fall back onto your soft sheets with a dramatic huff.

“Harry?” He pauses mid-step and turns to look at you over his shoulder with a quirked brow as you lift your head up so he can see you properly. “Thank you.” Your voice sounding so genuine is what makes Harry have to turn and walk back into the kitchen after muttering a soft barely audible you’re welcome, feeling the guilt of not telling you everything that happened last night begin to settle in the pit of his stomach.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” He mumbles quietly to himself as he stands in front of your coffee maker, gripping the edge of your counter as it finally starts to percolate and the dark brown liquid begins to gather in the pot.

“This is fine. It’s going to be fine.” He repeats the phrase it over and over again in a hushed whisper as he closes his eyes and readies himself to spend a good chunk of the day with you, all while trying to not give into your advances or spill the beans on everything you told him last night, two things that at the moment he doesn’t really know if he’s actually capable of doing but he is going to try his best.

Harry wouldn’t say he’s avoiding you, he would say he’s simply busy or has made himself busier than normal by accepting last minute meetings and being more hands on with a few projects for an upcoming launch and if that just so happens to help him not be stuck in awkward situations with you then that is just a happy coincidence. He’s managed to keep himself busy for the last three days since the morning after you drunkenly told him how you feel about him and if he’s being honest with himself he misses you, it’s not like he’s ghosted you or anything he still texts and sends random voice notes throughout the day he just hasn’t been in the same room as you, hasn’t smelt your perfume or felt your hand brush his skin when you push his hair up and out of his face and well, he misses it. But as his luck would have it, three days is about all the time he’s going to get before being in the same room as you again because as he steps out of the kitchen and into his living room with a fresh mug of tea in his hand he hears a very familiar sound of his front door being unlocked.

“Why does he keep it so cold in here?” His brain actually stops working for a moment as your soft voice floats from the entryway by his front door and into the dimly lit living room. He looks around frantically as he places his mug on the coffee table, trying to find a place to hide as if you’re some crazed person who just broke into his house and he’s not trying to be the first kill of a horror movie.

“Fuck.” He groans as he stubs his toe on the edge of the bookshelves that line the wall behind his couch, it’s in that moment that he realizes how dumb this is because the moment you see the mug on the table you’re going to know he’s home and it’s not like he gives everyone keys to his house or his gate code but before he can try to move and greet you he hears your footsteps getting closer.

“Why is it so-oh my god!” Your hand flies up to your chest over your heart as soon as you walk into the living room and see Harry in the middle of ducking behind his couch, hands gripping the back of it with his eyes wide as if he was expecting someone else besides you.

“Harry what the hell are you doing? You scared the shit out of me.” He slowly stands up and brushes his hands down the front of his t shirt as if he’s trying to get rid of invisible dust.

“I was uhm-uh-uh I live here.” He fumbles with his words making the sentence come out more like a question rather than a statement.

“I’m aware of that I meant what are you doing behind the couch?”

“Oh I dropped some-wait why are you here?” He quirks a brow as you adjust your bag on your shoulder, his eyes do a quick once over of your outfit and his eyes soften when he recognizes it as the one he helped you pick. “Your interview was today?” The small nod you give him tells him it didn’t go well and he feels his heart drop when you sniffle and look away from him and up towards his ceiling.

“I’m apparently overqualified so-”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means they didn’t want to pay me what I’m worth but also didn’t feel comfortable paying me the amount they are willing to offer.”

“That’s stupid.” He states harshly making you let out a watery chuckle and give him a shrug as you look at the ground. Harry puts his hands in his pockets and rubs his lips together as he tries to think of something to say to make you feel better when all he wants to do is pull you into his arm and kiss the frown off your face.

“I uhm wanted to use your fancy shower with all the-the jet things that massage your back.” You tell him shyly as if you haven’t ever come over with or without him being home to use his fancy contraptions like his shower, jacuzzi tub or steam sauna. “I forgot to check your location to see if you were home. I’m sorry.” Harry just lets out a laugh as he walks over to his coffee table to grab his tea.

“You don’t have to apologize love it’s fine go ahead I was about to go read for a bit but I can do that in the study if you’d like some-”

“You can read wherever you want Harry it’s your house.” You inform him with a playful hilt to your voice making him just lift one shoulder in a shrug.

“I know I just didn’t want to bother you that’s all.” You tilt your head as you adjust your bag that he knows has an extra set of more comfortable clothes in it as well as a pair of cozy socks so your feet don’t get cold on his hardwood floor, something you always complain about every time you stay over and the main reason he has a whole drawer dedicated to fuzzy socks just for you.

“You never bother me Harry.” Your voice is reassuring and makes him smile and feel his cheeks get warm as you take as few steps towards the hallway his bedroom is at the end of. “Do you still have that towel warmer you can’t figure out how to use?”

“Yes.” He answers with a chuckle making you smile as you head off down the hallway.

“Perfect.” Is all he hears you say before you’re out of his sight. He runs a hand through his hair as he takes a moment to let his current situation hit him, you’re in his house about to go use his bathroom because you want a relaxing shower after a job interview that ended poorly.

“This is fine.” He mumbles as he brings his tea up to his lips hoping the warm liquid will help calm him down a bit as he turns and slowly makes his way down the hallway to his bedroom. When he walks into the room he smiles when he sees your bag on the end of his bed that you tend to sleep on, a sight he hasn’t seen in a few days that he’s missed and oddly enough it has him wondering if he’s gone about this whole thing totally wrong.

“We both have feelings for each other so what’s the real harm in enjoying each other’s company?” He thinks to himself as he places his tea on his nightstand. He turns towards the door that leads into his bathroom when hears you humming to yourself as you set up your things, and when you emerge in nothing but a fluffy robe he finds it hard not to take notice of how adorable you look wrapped up in the soft fabric of the light pink robe that lets him see a decent amount of your legs since it stops around the middle of your thigh.

“Damn she looks good.” His mind takes a dangerous turn as he blatantly stares at you, but he can tell by the faint smile on your lips that you don’t mind, not really.

“Stop staring at me you weirdo.”

“I’ll stop staring when you stop being pretty but I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

“Oh god Harry that was bad.” You tease as you dig through your bag for something, Harry takes this time to walk around the bed so he’s standing next to you.

“That was good and you know it.” He argues as his hands grip your waist to turn you so you’re facing him, you roll your eyes and let out a huff making Harry laugh at your little dramatics. “Come on love just admit it-it was good.”

“I’ll do no such thing because it was horrible.”

“That just means I’ll have to try harder then.” You bite your lip to hide your smile as a blush creeps its way across your cheeks. “What is it you’re digging around for in that black hole you call a bag?” He asks as his hands slide down to your hips.

“My socks. I can’t find-”

“I have some.” He says with a smile as you raise an eyebrow at him. “And yes they are fuzzy and soft just like you like.”

“What would I do without you?” Your tone is playful but Harry swears he hears just the faintest edge to it letting him know you’re actually being genuine.

“Well hopefully you’ll never have to find out but I’m sure it would involve you walking around with cold feet.” His voice is smooth and gentle as he brings a hand up to cup the side of your face.

“I’ve missed you.” You whisper as his thumb runs across your cheekbone, your hands are on his chest feeling the softness of his t shirt. When you look up and lock eyes with him you watch the usual light jade green turn into a dark emerald shade as he licks his lips.

“I’ve missed you too.” His voice is low as he leans in and presses his lips against yours in a kiss that has your eyes closing and your arms wrapping around his neck.

The kiss starts off slow but as Harry feels you pull him closer to deepen it, the kiss turns hungry. You swipe your tongue over his bottom lip before slipping it into his mouth as his hand slides from the side of your face into your hair. He manages to maneuver the two of you so the back of your knees hit the edge of his bed without breaking the kiss. His lips move against yours as he gently lowers you to the bed, standing between your legs as your back hits the soft comforter.

“You okay?” He asks as he pulls away, his hands on either side of your head as he hovers over you.

“Yes.” You say with a nod making Harry smile as he leans down and places a kiss to your forehead then your cheeks and the tip of your nose making you giggle as his lips find their way to your jaw. “You know I did come over to take advantage of your shower.” You remind Harry as he kisses his way down your jaw to the side of your neck.

“Mind some company?” He asks between little nips to the side of your neck, he smiles against your sensitive skin when he hears you let out a small gasp when he nips at the spot just below your ear.

“Not at all.” You answer with a sigh as Harry’s lips travel down your neck, moving your robe just enough so he can place kisses to your collar bone while your hands slide down his chest and dip under the hem of his t shirt feeling the way his muscles tense under your touch.

“Let me go get it started then. Know how all the knobs confuse you.” He teases making you run your finger up his side slowly a place you know he’s always been ticklish, causing him to flinch away as a deep chuckle bubbles up from his chest.

“Don’t be rude Harry.”

“Sorry love.” He gives you a sly smile when he lifts his head, his eyes catch yours before he places a quick kiss to your lips. “How hot do you want it? Burn your flesh or a normal temperate most humans can tolerate?” He asks as he stands up, his hands on the tops of your thighs as you sit up onto your elbows.

“Most humans can tolerate how hot I like to shower you just-”

“Baby your version of a hot shower is equivalent to what I’m guessing the inside of a volcano feels like.” He watches your face as the petname falls from his lips, he sees the smile that takes over and the way your cheeks turn the tiniest bit pink.

“You don’t have to join me if you can’t handle it.” Your tone is nothing but teasing making Harry give you a knowing look before he’s leaning in and attaching his lips to yours in a kiss that leaves you wanting nothing more than to pull him down onto the mattress with you and say to hell with the shower when he pulls away.

“Oh I can handle it don’t you worry.” And with that he’s giving your thighs a little squeeze before turning and heading into the bathroom.

Harry stares at you in awe as he watches the warm water cascade down your body, steam filling the shower and surrounding the two of you in an intimate kind of warmth. His are eyes filled with lust and deep affection as you run your hands through your damp hair after rinsing out your fruity smelling conditioner, you tilt your head and glance at him over your shoulder. It’s when he watches you bite your bottom lip that he decides he’s done being polite and keeping his hands to himself while you enjoy his shower. It takes him three steps until he’s on you, hands softly tracing your curves, savoring every soft inch of you as if he’s trying to memorize every dip and delicate curve just incase it’s the last time he’ll get to experience it.

His hands gently grip your hips and turn you so your back is pressed against the tile wall of his shower as he captures your lips in a heated kiss, your arms wrap around his neck as he slides his tongue against yours deepening the kiss. You pull him closer when you feel a hand slip between your thighs, he swallows down your moan when the tip of his index finger runs up and down your slick folds, teasing you.

“Need to feel you.” He mumbles against your lips when he pulls away from the kiss just to let you catch your breath, your head rests against the wall as he pushes his finger into your wet center pumping in and out a few times before adding his middle finger earning him a moan as you grind down onto his hand.

“Oh god.” Your voice is soft and breathy as he pumps his fingers into your wetness at an agonizingly slow pace that has your hands gripping the tops of Harry’s shoulders. “H-Harry I need more please.” He leans in and places kisses to the side of your neck as his thumb begins rubbing light circles over your clit.

“You’ll get what you need I just want to take my time with you.” He says as he kisses down your neck to the top of your shoulder. “Haven’t gotten to fuck this sweet pussy in days baby I wanna feel you make a mess on my fingers before I stuff you full of my cock.” He tells you as his fingers curl inside of you, pumping into you at a quicker but still slow and deliberate pace that has you feeling pressure slowly build in your lower tummy.

“Missed your fingers so-oh yes yes right there.” Harry smirks against your wet soft skin as he adds a third finger, he feels you begin to clench around him as he makes his thrusts more determined and adds more pressure to your clit.

“Yeah? Missed my fingers being deep inside you? Oh that’s the spot isn’t it baby? God you feel so good-can feel your tight little pussy squeezing them.” He lets out a groan as you arch your back and grind down onto his hand as your eyes snap shut. “Let go for me baby-I’ve got you.” He whispers in your ear as he pumps his fingers into you at a pace that has you letting out a soft cry of his name as a wave of pleasure washes over you.

“Harry-oh oh god.” His skilled fingers pump into you at a steady pace as he feels your release drip onto his hand down to his wrist, trying to drag out your pleasure as long as he can making your chest rise and fall rapidly as you try to catch your breath. He kisses your forehead when you let out a tiny whine as he slides his fingers out of your soaked cunt.

“God you’re so pretty when you come undone for me.” He tells you voice thick with need before his lips are on yours in a passionate kiss that has your hands tangling into his damp hair trying to pull him closer as his hand slides to the back of your thigh lifting your leg up, his tongue licks into your mouth as he nudges the tip of his painfully hard cock at your entrance. He pulls away from your kiss swollen lips and watches your face as he slowly pushes his tip into your warm wet center, he feels you give his hair a tug when he pulls out just to teasingly push back in.

“You’re being mean.” You whine as he pushes into you so half his cock is snug inside your tight hole just to slide back out slowly so just the tip is inside you. His hand gives your thigh a squeeze as his lips find that spot below your ear that makes you let out a breathy moan.

“M’not being mean baby I’m just giving you what you want.” His sweet and soft voice is wrapped in a teasing tone as he whispers in your ear, he slowly sinks his thick cock inside you letting you feel every inch of him till you’re gripping onto his arms at how overwhelming it is to feel him fill you up like this. He stills for a moment letting you adjust to him and wanting to savor the feeling of you being wrapped tightly around him. “I missed how good it feels to stuff my thick cock inside your tight pussy it’s always so snug and-god it feels amazing.” He says with a moan, his mouth nipping at your jaw lightly.

“So good-feels so good.” You moan as he begins to move his hips making sure you feel how deep he is with each slow deliberate thrust.

“You like being full of me don’t you baby? Like it when I hit that spot-right there.” He watches with lust filled eyes as he gives you a deep thrust making the tip of his cock hit the spot inside you that has your eyes closing and his name falling out of your mouth. “That’s it just let me take care of you-so pretty baby.” His lips find yours as your hands grab at his back pulling him closer, his tongue swipes across your bottom lip before he slides it past your lips deepening the kiss as he increases the pace of his thrusts just enough to have you moaning into his mouth.

“Your pretty cunt is takin me so well-doing so good for me.” He says with a moan when he pulls away from your lips, his hand glides down between your wet bodies until his thumb finds your clit. “Talk to me sweetheart tell me how you feel.” He demands gently, needing to hear your voice telling him how good he’s making you feel.

“Oh god it feels so good Harry-so big oh shit and-deep I love it.” He lets out a deep groan when he feels you clench around him, he leans back just enough so he can look down and watch his thick shaft disappear into your cunt as he pulls out to just the tip and then slowly pushes back in making you claw at his back. “Faster Harry please-oh god.” You beg as he takes his time fucking you nice and slow with deep thrusts of his hips that has you needing more as your hips jerk up to meet his pace.

“Greedy little thing.” He teases as he increases his pace just slightly. “Wanted to take my time fucking this perfect little pussy- be gentle and sweet to you but you just always need it a bit rough and hard don’t you baby?” You just let out a cry of his name as he gives you a particularly harsh thrust and his thumb presses tight circles on your clit. “Always begging for more even when I’m stuffing you with my big cock that you love so much-god you feel so fucking good wrapped around me I swear it’s like heaven being buried inside your tight little cunt.” His words have you pulsing around him as his thrusts turn quicker and more determined as he grabs your legs and hikes it over his hip letting his cock reach even deeper with the new angle.

“Oh fuck Harry-don’t stop oh god please don’t stop.” You pant as he leans his head into the crook of your neck and nips at the sensitive skin below your ear.

“Not gonna stop baby just let go for me-let me see that pretty face you make when you’re coming all over my cock-need to feel you make a mess all over me.” He licks and sucks his way down your neck only lifting his head when he feels you clenching around his thick length and a string of incoherent words mixed with his name rumble out of your mouth as you reach your blissful release.

“Want you to come Harry-fill me up please Harry- please.” He groans as he pumps his cock in and out of your tight hole as you ride out the waves of pleasure from your intense orgasm.

“Fuck baby-always so polite when you’re begging for my come to be pumped deep inside your pussy.” Your nails dig into his shoulders as his thrusts turn harder and more precise, he feels his muscles in his stomach tighten and with a choked moan he’s spilling into you, coating your wet walls with his warm load. “Filling you up just the way you like-gonna have me dripping out of your tight little hole all night.” He pants as he slowly fucks himself through his release making you a withering mess in his hold as he moves his thumb from your clit so he can grab ahold of your hip helping you stay upright against the wall.

Your hands cup his face when he places a soft kiss to your lips, his hand sliding down your thigh as he gives you one last thrust before slowly pulling out. His mouth moves against yours as you deepen the kiss, sliding your tongue past his lips while his hand gives your hip a soft squeeze before sliding down between your legs. Harry kisses you through the shiver that runs through your body when his index and middle finger tease your soaked entrance before slowly slipping inside of you, he feels you tremble in his hold as his tongue slides against yours while he pumps his fingers into you slowly.

You lean your head back against the tile as Harry’s lips travel down your jaw to your neck, your chest rising and falling rapidly as his fingers work his come back into you with each slow pump. Your hands fall to his shoulders as you try to catch your breath.

“You okay sweetheart?” He asks as he slides his fingers out of you and lowers your leg so your foot is back on the floor of the shower. “Did so good you always do so good for me.” His sweet words have a lazy smile working its way onto your face as he moves his lips lower down your chest, he moves to his knees as his hands gently work your legs apart. “Just need a little taste baby.” He mumbles against the warm skin of your inner thigh before the flat of his tongue is licking up the front of your soaked center.

“Harry.” Your voice is strained as you grip his shoulders to help keep you balanced as his tongue slides through your wet folds making him moan against you as the taste of his arousal mixed with yours hits his tongue.

“Sorry baby-just needed a taste it’s okay I’ve got you.” He says softly as he rises back to his feet, his hands cup your face as he looks into your eyes. “You’re so beautiful.” He smiles when your cheeks get a deep flush to them. “And amazing.” He says before kissing your cheek. “And wonderful.” His lips move over to your other cheek. “And perfect.” He finishes with a kiss to your forehead making you let out a soft giggle as your arms wrap around his neck.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me I’m just stating facts.” You smile and lean into his touch as he stares at you with a look that makes the whole moment feel extremely intimate. “You know there’s no rush on finding a job right? I’m happy to take care of you for as long as you want and those guys are absolute idiots for not hiring you.”

“I know.” You answer with a smile as his thumbs gently run up and down your cheek bones.

“Good.” He leans in and kisses the tip of your nose because he turns to look at the water falling from the shower head in the ceiling just a little ways away from them. “Now since we are already in the shower I hope this means you won’t be a pouty little mess while I clean you up.”

“As long as I don’t have to move from this spot I’m fine.”

“Of course Princess just stand right there and I’ll take care of the rest.” He shoots you a playful wink as he steps away from you so he can grab a washcloth. “As usual.” He adds with a smirk making you roll your eyes but your smile never leaves your face because it never gets old how Harry can go from being so filthy with you to being so sweet and silly, it’s something that shows how well he knows you and how he is always able to be exactly what you need him to be. As you watch him take his time as he gently runs the cloth over your skin his eyes glance up to meet yours and the look he gives you makes your heart race because it’s one you’ve never seen before, it makes you wonder if in this moment the two of you are beginning to cross that invisible line between bestfriends and something else, but then he blinks a few times and looks away making your heart sink low into your chest.

Harry officially can say he is avoiding you, it’s been a handful of days since you spent the night at his house after your job interview. He knows something shifted during his shower with you, it makes his insides all twisted up because he begins to think about how it’s the feelings you haven’t shared with him at least while sober and his own feelings for you that turned what he intended to just be a regular interaction with you into something more passionate and meaningful. But he’s worried, scared that maybe the shift he felt was just one sided and instead of risking talking about it and potentially losing you he does something so incredibly unlike himself, he starts to ignore you. He stops answering your texts or calls and he knows it’s wrong, he knows he is being the worst version of himself but he just can’t bring himself to talk to you because he knows everything he’s been feeling lately will come spewing out and he’s just not ready to talk about it, at least not yet.

He looks down at his phone to see the time as he stands off to the side of the bar at a crowded party he rsvp’d to months ago, having also checked the box for a plus one figuring that you’d accompany him but seeing as he hasn’t been the best friend let alone sugar daddy to you recently he didn’t bother reaching out to check if you still wanted to come. He lets out a sigh when he sees the party hasn’t even been going on for an hour, meaning he still needs to stay and make it look like he cared enough to at least the hour and a half mark. As he slides his phone into the pocket of his black dress pants he hears a very familiar voice that has his breath hitching and his heart thumping wildly against his ribcage.

“I told you they’d let you in.” He can tell you’re smiling just by the way your voice sounds and it has Harry lifting his head and craning his neck to try to find you and when he does he feels his heart drop because you’re not alone.

“Well of course they let me in it doesn’t change the fact I still wasn’t invited.” Zayn says with a huff as Harry watches your hand slip into his so you can lead him through the crowd. “What’s this party even for anyway? Bit posh for-”

“I think it’s to save some sort of animal or something to do with animals.” You explain as you stop at the bar, the same bar that Harry is currently standing next to. His eyes land on Zayn, hating how good he looks in his well fitted suit and hair styled perfectly with that one strand falling down over his forehead, he must be able to feel Harry’s presence as he looks over to his left and catches Harry’s hard glare.

“Uh babe Har-” Zayn looks away from Harry and taps your shoulder a few times as he tries to tell you who he sees but you cut him off.

“What do you want to drink? They have sparkling water or-”

“I don’t need anythin’ but for you to look over there and-”

“Look over where-oh.” Harry’s heart skips a beat when your eyes find his, your mouth falls open and your cheeks turn pink and for a moment he thinks it’s because you’re embarrassed but when you brush Zayn’s hand off your arm as you take a step in Harry’s direction he quickly realizes the flush to your cheeks and neck isn’t from embarrassment it’s from anger.

“I uh didn’t think-”

“That seems to be something you’ve doing a lot lately. The whole not thinking thing.” Your voice is harsh as you cut his sentence short and stand right in front of him with a dark look in your eyes he hasn’t seen in years. “Now you better find us somewhere to talk or I’ll let this whole party know what kind of asshole they invited.” He just nods as he turns on his heels and walks towards a hallway he saw a few doors on. You cross your arms over your chest as you stand at the end of it and watch him check each room until he finds one that seems suitable for the conversation the two of you are about to have.

“A closet? Really?”

“The other options were the kitchen or a bathroom and I figured the bathroom would cause more interruptions.”

“Whatever.” You snap as Harry holds the door open for you so you can enter the rather large hall closet that has a shelf with boardgames on it and a few random jackets hanging towards the back.

“Uhm you look lovely I like that dress a lot.” Harry’s voice gives away his nerves as he closes the door behind him, effectively closing the two of you in the space that suddenly seems too small to hold all the unspoken words that are hanging between the two of you.

“Thanks. You bought it.” Your words make Harry fight off the urge to smile, enjoying the fact that even though he’s been a shitty friend you’re still at least using his cards to buy yourself nice things. “Now I just need you to stand there while I get some things off my chest okay? Don’t interrupt or give me any silly looks with your annoying face just-”

“Do-do you want me to face the door then? Because I can’t change how my face looks.”

“Actually that would be great.” He raises an eyebrow at you as if you can’t seriously expect him to face the door but when you place a hand on your hip and narrow your eyes at him he realizes you’re serous.

“Uh okay.” He mumbles as he turns around so his back is facing you and his eyes are glued to the back of the door that has a random assortment of scarves and ties hanging from hooks that are attached to it. He hears you let out a deep breath and he can practically see your hands clasping together in front of you so you can mess with the ring on your index finger, something he knows you do when you’re extra anxious about something and it makes him feel another crack form in his heart knowing that he’s the one making you feel nervous and anxious.

“I know something changed between us the day I showed up at your house.” Your voice is only slightly shaky, something no one else besides him and maybe the man you came to this party with would be able to pick up on. “And I know you felt it because you haven’t talked to me sense and-and god Harry how could you just not talk to me for four whole days as if-as if I’m just some random person and not your bestfriend? How are we supposed to fix this if you don’t talk to me? Or-or is this your way of saying you don’t want to fix it and you rather just be done with me as a friend and as-”

“That’s not it at-”

“I’m not finished.” You cut him off harshly making him swallow thickly as he hears the emotion in your voice. “If you needed time then you could’ve told me you know you could’ve told me and I would’ve understood. But this? This I don’t get because this isn’t you. You don’t ignore the people you care about especially after-” He hears you sniffle and it takes everything in him not to turn around but he knows that’ll just upset you even more. “After you make them feel like the most important person on the planet. You don’t do that Harry. You don’t get to ignore me after making me feel like that it’s-it’s wrong and rude and- and just mean.” Your voice is thick with emotion as you sniffle and let out a frustrated sigh as Harry hears what he knows is the sound of your hands falling to your sides in what he can only assume is defeat as you pour out all your frustrations and feelings about how he’s treated you over the last four days.

“You-you can turn around now.” You tell him and for a moment he hesitates, afraid of what heartbroken version of you he’ll see once he turns and faces you.

“I’m sorry.” He lets the words slip out of his mouth as he turns around and is face to face with you, the girl he’s in love with but somehow managed to break before he even had the chance to tell you how he felt. Your eyes are watery and your bitting down on your bottom lip to try to hide the fact it’s trembling but he sees it, of course he sees it he’s your bestfriend and knows all the little things you do when you’re upset.

“Is that it? Or-”

“You’re right something did change that day but something also changed before that or at least for me it did.” He shoves his hands into his pockets as he looks down at his feet. “I realized when I heard you tell Cindy that I was just Harry your fiend that-that I don’t want to be just your friend or your-sugar daddy I want to be something more because I-I’m in love with you.” He hears you let out a small gasp but he doesn’t dare look up he just swallows the lump in his throat and keeps going. “And it just so happens that’s the same night you drunkenly told me you fell for me too and-and fuck I wish you wouldn’t have told me that because I knew you weren’t going to remember and I just had to carry this secret around and I felt so guilty every time you’d try-try to touch me because I knew how you felt and I didn’t want to take advantage of that or have you feel like I was taking advantage of that-but then you came over and didn’t get the job.” He lets out a sigh as he runs a hand through his hair while lifting his head up so he can finally look at you.

“And everything changed.” He takes a small step towards you, not wanting to make you feel overwhelmed. “It felt different like we were just two lovers making up for lost time and-and it scared me because I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you and yet I did the dumbest thing possible and just ignored you and I’m so sorry. I am so so sorry.” He feels his eyes burn with unshed tears and when you reach your hands out as you close the gap between the two of you he feels as if his heart begin to race.

“It felt different because it was different.” You tell him as you cup the sides of his face with your hands, he feels a few tears roll down his cheeks as you look up at him with rounded eyes. “That was the first time we were together as two people who know they love the other one in a way that’s not exactly friendly.” Your thumbs wipe away the tears from his face as he sniffles and tries to get control of his emotions.

“I do you know? Love you. I love you so much.” He watches a smile take over your face as you pull him down towards you so you can brush your lips against his, his arms wrap around your waist tightly as if he doesn’t want to risk you being able to get away from him.

“I love you too Harry.” You say once you pull away from him, he feels as if his heart is going to burst and the grin that takes over his face is going to be there permanently as you tell him the words he’s been longing to hear from you without the influence of a few dirty martinis.

“Do you forgive me? For being a dumb asshole?”

“Yes I forgive you.” You smile as he presses his lips to your cheeks as your arms loosely wrap around his neck. “What do we do now? How is this going to work with our current situation?”

“Oh that’s simple baby.” He pulls back so he can look you in your eyes. “You just let me keep taking care of you.” He answers making you let out a chuckle as he leans down to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck.

“Yeah? Just let you take care of me forever huh? Never work again or anything just have you pay my way through life?” You tease but Harry just mumbles a quiet yes as he kisses at the soft skin of your neck. “Are you still my sugar-”

“I’m your boyfriend.” He answers cutting off the rest of the question he already knew was coming as he pulls away from your neck. “Who just so happens to be crazy rich and willing to pay for anything and everything you want or need to be happy.” You laugh and roll your eyes as he gives your hips a playful squeeze.

“You’re horrible.”

“Yeah but you love me for it.” You look up at him and give him a smile as you nod your head.

“Yeah. I do.” Harry smiles as he leans down and places a kiss to your lips that feels a lot like a first kiss, because this one is full of love leaving the both of you breathless when he pulls away.

“I love you.”

“I love you too Harry.” He places a kiss to your forehead making you smile. “Now come on I need a drink and we still have twenty minutes until we can leave.”

“Already counting down the minutes till you can get me home huh?”

“Yes.” Is all you say as you wiggle out of his hold and grab the doorknob. “Oh and you also bought me these shoes.” You tell him as you slide your foot out from under your full length gown.

“Is it wrong that I get turned on knowing you spent my money while mad at me?”

“You’re such a freak.” Harry just shrugs as you laugh and open the door of the closet allowing the two of you to go back to the party.

“Nineteen minutes.” He mumbles into your ear as he stands behind you at the bar. You laugh as you lean into him as his hands find your hips giving them soft squeezes and it feels so natural, being like this with him that you can’t help but silently thank whatever lucky stars took you to that sketchy website all those weeks ago. Because if you wouldn’t have filled out that little profile you wouldn’t be here, standing at the bar at a party with your bestfriend that also now just so happens to be your boyfriend.

[happypeachsludgeflower]

SVSSS BRAINWAVE JUST HIT! I HAD A THOUGHT ™

An average modern person transmitigates into SVSSS. Mind you, I specifically mean SVSSS and not PIDW. That’s right, our protagonist awakens to find themselves as a NPC in the world of Scum Villain Self Saving System. And they think to themselves upon waking up, “Oh, I’m an NPC in a xianxia novel with a happy ending! Cool!!” and goes about their life being a background nerd geeking out about plants, and monsters, and cultivation in general, and neat flying swords.

But this is a world of sex pollen and wife plots and unfortunately the cure for a lot of diseases is duel cultivation with a heavenly demon, and we all know who that demon is going to end up marrying, so it’s best to mess around with meta cultivation knowledge and prep for the worst case scenario, and honestly, they may as well solve some of the minor issues in the plot while their at it, so they invent some new cultivation techniques from some of those nifty svsss fanfictions they read while alive (I’m specifically thinking of this fic’s explanation of duel cultivation and cauldrons, but other weird cultivation methods could be used from other fanfics and xianxia books), so they can tidy up some things.

For instance, is it really necessary for Zhuzhi-lang to be stuck as a weird snake creature for nearly twenty years? Is it really needed for Yue Qingyuan to have crippled cultivation due to his sword?? Does Tianlang Jun have to be stuck under a mountain and then escape only to slowly die in a decomposing body??

They know they can’t change everything without the system interfering, but small nudges should help right? After all, they’re just a background NPC and Shen Yuan will show up eventually and everyone will fall in love with him and no one will even notice the NPC’s existence even if they had noticed something was up during their miraculous healing and salvation spree.

So they go about fixing those things. They catch Zhuzhi-lang unawares and feed him a sun and dew mushroom seed while he’s confused and do some funky cultivation shenanigans and pat him on the head cause he’s really such a cute weird snake creature and give him some vague warning about not trusting in laws and then fucks off to somewhere else.

I’m still caught up on Metagaming’s concept of duel cultivation transactions where you give and take—like taking something from someone’s cultivation, not just power, and returning something else—and keep getting stuck in a brainrot loop of the NPC taking some bloodmite powers from Zhuzhi-lang when they gave him a fully humanoid form that’s not reliant on Tianlang Jun. So my main idea for how the NPC plots to hold Yue Qingyuan in place is feeding him lesser bloodmites (not full ones because they only took a minor ability and can only hold someone for a few minutes before the bloodmites die), while they hold Yue Qingyuan still long enough to draw some ritual to heal his soul and separate it from Xuan Su. But honestly, I’m sure other ideas could apply here too. My Metagaming brainrot is just too strong right now to think of any.

And Tianlang Jun? Simple. Zhuzhi-lang’s got a humanoid form and can easily get the sun and dew mountain flowers for himself. They can’t stop the man from being imprisoned entirely. The system says no since Luo Binghe needs a dramatic entrance. So while they can’t stop the tragedy, they can put some pieces into play for an early escape, maybe a new plan to get him a better body once’s he’s back, and be a ferry for Su Xiyan’s body to revive her at some point as well.

It’s nice being an unnoticeable NPC, isn’t it? You can do whatever you want and no one’s going to know!!

Except. Someone does notice (as we all could have seen coming). And Shen Qingqiu is suspicious as fuck of this obnoxious Shidi because he notices everyone due to paranoid, and he’s even MORE suspicious of the mysterious character that healed Yue Qingyuan’s soul (and wasn’t that a doozy of a realization to have when Yue Qingyuan burst into his bamboo house one day freaking out because some disguised, powerful cultivator somehow did the impossible after ambushing him and holding him down as they healed his soul, and Shen Qingqiu is still reeling from learning that Yue Qingyuan’s SOUL was damaged trying to save Xiao Jiu and the stubborn asshole never told him because he apparently assumed Xiao Jiu knew there wasn’t a single universe where Qi ge didn’t try to come for him). And so yea, Shen Qingqiu is suspicious as all hell and starts snooping and plotting to catch the mysterious cultivator by combing through Cang Qiong because whoever it is has to have an in at the sect somewhere to know about Yue Qingyuan’s soul.

And that’s not even mentioning how suspicious Zhuzhi-lang and Tianlang Jun are now. They might not have realized what that strange cultivator did when they did it, or understood the cryptic in law mention, but they certainly have some suspicions now that Tianlang Jun was as imprisoned by in law like people, and Zhuzhi-lang kept his humanoid form just fine without Tianlang Jun, and now the hunt is ON for the mysterious benefactor, so they can repay the kindness and find out what the fuck is going on.

The NPC is, of course, oblivious to all of this going on and goes about their merry way thinking they’re being the Best ™ at being lowkey. They are SO good at being inconspicuous!! They deserve an award really!!

And then. Shen Qingqiu doesn’t qi deviate.

Shen Yuan doesn’t show up.

Oh shit, the NPC thinks to themselves as they begin to panic. They even check Shen Qingqiu out themselves to see if it’s Shen Yuan just being really good at acting. Maybe he was a better actor in the book than he gave himself credit for or something?? But no. That’s Shen Qingqiu all right. Shen Yuan is missing in action, and someone has to fix the plot of Cang Qiong is doomed.

Thus begins the NPC’s journey to try and unobtrusively fix PIDW’s child abuse problems (that they’re unaware are already fixed), save Liu Qingge from his qi deviation in Ling Xi Caves, make sure Luo Binghe doesn’t raze the sect to the ground someday and hopefully find him some sort of husband replacement to keep him under control when he does return, possibly dispose of the Huan Hua Palace Master at some point because he’s vile trash, and did I mention there are multiple man hunts for this poor oblivious dude currently on going??

And the most important question for them to solve? Where the fuck did Shen Yuan go??

Hmm I wonder where that man could have gone.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Count Alexei Vronsky x fem!reader

Summary: You're forced into an arranged marriage.

Genre: fluff, angsty

Warnings: Alexei is kind of an asshole in the beginning, reader is from France, the daughter of a Marquis, and she is described as having hair that can be pinned up and curled (otherwise no descriptions), sexism of the time (very mild)

~ thank you anon! sorry this too forever (this was requested ages ago)!! ~

COUNT VRONSKY MASTERLIST

As you brush your hair in the mirror of your vanity, staring unemotionally at the girl staring back, your mother's words ring in your ear. "Love, beautiful love, can be learned, ma chérie (my love)," she'd promised, as her hand lay on your nervous knee, smoothing her thumbs over the crinkled skirt of your lavender dress, the fabric bunched up from hours of carriage riding. 

"I did not love your father when I met him. Not in the beginning." Your mother smiled and continued, "But, when it finally happened—and it will for you too—I could not imagine myself without him." 

And you did believe her. Up until you took your first step on Count Vronksy's estate, the sun hot and warm on your skin, you listened to your mother's proclamations of true love with attention and yearning. 

You still want to believe her even now.

Your future husband's lips had felt so foreign on your upper palm, the feeling more like a courtesy than something intimate. He hadn't said a word, minus the polite greetings that frankly don't count in those situations, as he stood beside his mother wearing an oddly vacant expression. The blue shine of his eyes mirrored an ocean you imagined losing yourself in, but one you couldn't yet reach. 

You suppose you should feel incredibly lucky that he didn't turn out to be some old, hideous, nobleman with crooked teeth and chapped lips. You certainly did feel lucky that the only reputation he had was player tendencies and fleeting infidelities—which your mother promised you could be dampened with time and care. 

"He will be a good husband to you, mon amour (my love). Give him time."

Your mother sounded so sure, but you didn't know how much time your heart could handle without breaking.

Across the house, Count Alexei Vronsky paces his bedchamber, his white chemise hung loosely over his shoulders as he practically tugs at his blond curls. His mind races with countless scenarios and possibilities as he plays the memory of meeting you on an endless loop. 

"Alexei," His mother, Countess Vronskaya, chastises as she sits on his bed, her lips pursed. "You are acting like a spoiled child. Sit down." 

Her youngest son shakes his head, his voice coming out strained. "I cannot do this, Mama," he says, meaning every word. "I do not know her. I cannot love someone I do not know!"

"Love?" Countess Vronskaya scoffs, staring at him with sharp eyes, "What on earth has put that silly word into your head? And don't tell me it was your little affair from a few months ago—oh, the shame—" she fans her lace fan faster and then shuts it and abruptly lays it onto her lap.

"Alexei, love does not exist. Responsibility, on the other hand, does. It is your responsibility to make up for your mistakes and this is the solution. Marriage. Besides," she fans herself again, "You can easily have Mistresses, I am not denying you that so please, stop this nonsense at once."

"I do not want any Mistresses!" Alexei exclaims, his frustration growing.

Countess Vronskaya stares at her son with an expression of annoyance and disbelief. "Then what, pray, do you want? To bring further scandal upon this family with your childish rebellion? You will marry this girl. It is not a request but an order."

Alexei drops to his bed, his head held pitifully in his hands as he calms his breathing. He pretends he's anywhere but here, his mind focusing on how the wind against his window sounds like waves crashing onto sand. 

One. Breath in.

Two. Breath out.

Three. Breath in.

"I understand, Mama," he whispers, knowing he has no choice in the matter. 

* * *

One. Breath in.

Two. Breath in.

Three. Breath in.

"Maman, it's too tight, I cannot breathe," you whimper as you press a palm on your stomach, feeling slightly light-headed as the maids tighten your corset and slip over your periwinkle dress, the silk sliding over your shoulder as one hangs delicately to the side. It's a simple dress, minus the puffs and ruffles. "Beauty is pain," your mother says, nodding her head as the maids continue to dress you up. 

They pin up your hair with a silver pin and wrap your neck in pearls, adding earrings to finish the look. "Charmante, ma chérie (Beautiful, my dear)," your mother admires as she stands and pushes a stray curl behind your ear.

"Il va t'adorer (He'll adore you)."

You focus on her promise as you walk down the grand staircase and enter the ballroom, which is illuminated by golden chandeliers and sparkling candles. The event looks lavish and it seems to you that Countess Vronskaya had invited all of Russian Society for the announcement of your marriage. Your stomach churns with nerves as you glance around the room. You don't know how to introduce yourself to the women who stare judgmentally from behind their fans. 

Your mother takes your arm and leads you to the center, where Count Vronsky stands beside his mother again, chatting ideally with some other aristocrats. Upon seeing your arrival, he turns and you hold out your hand, his lips brushing your skin in the same fleeting manner as it had earlier. 

"Good evening, Lady Y/l/n," he says, looking you over and you wonder if you look unpresentable from the way he's staring. His gaze then shifts to your mother. "Marquise Y/l/n."

You smile up at him. "Good evening, Count Vronsky," you say and then smile at his mother, "Countess—" You swallow your words when she sees your dress and her frown deepens. 

"What is this?" she asks with a hiss, her voice low. Alexei tenses from beside her. 

"I beg your pardon?" you whisper, eyes wide with confusion as your mother's frown deepens.

"Your dress. It isn't suitable for an occasion like this," Countess Vronskaya almost snarls, looking around the ballroom and then her eyes land on you again. "You look positively underdressed!" She sounds completely taken aback and almostdisgusted as she looks you up and down. You feel stupid and exposed, hearing her tell you this in front of your future husband. You don't dare look at him.

Your mother takes the fall. "I didn't know this wouldn't be suitable for this occasion, Countess Vronskaya. In France—" The Countess sends her a dirty look, clearly having no patience for any explanations.

Your mother exhales, "I assure you, Countess, the fault lies with me. I misjudged the attire. I apologize for my mistake," she says with a forced smile, pushing on your back to move you closer to Alexei—who still hasn't said a word. "Our children should have a dance, shouldn't they?" 

You look up at Alexei, your chest tightened as you make eye contact. Countess Vronskaya doesn't seem pleased but she nods and Alexei holds out his arm, his lips still shut as he stares in front of him.

You hesitate but take his arm as he leads you onto the dance floor and begins the dance, his hand around your waist. You try to remember the moves and once you're finally comfortable, the dance is suddenly over.

"I–" 

Alexei interrupts you with yet another chaste kiss to your hand and then he spins around, his posture as composed as it always is. He excuses himself and walks to make conversation with other guests, leaving you all alone. 

You stare at him, blinking back tears. How are you supposed to love him if he won't even talk to you? You feel hopeless as you stand there, feeling stupid and lonely in your dress.

So lonely. 

* * *

Alexei's knee bounces impatiently as he waits. You're over thirty minutes late. None of your maids have seen you and neither has your mother. His mind flashes back to last night; your pretty smile, the sound of your voice and the curls in your hair—the ones that had gotten slightly messy with the constant movement of your head. He feels a tightness in his chest. 

Where are you?

The thunder cracks outside, the rain pouring against the window of the parlor. It's a dreadful day and it only creates a pit in his stomach at your disappearance. Something is wrong.

"Should I fetch your mother?" One of the maids asks timidly when, ten minutes later, you still haven't shown up. Alexei takes a breath and shakes his head, he stands and holds his head in one hand. 

"No need, it's fine, I'll—" 

He's interrupted by the sound of a familiar neigh-ing outside the window. His head snaps around and his eyes widen. "Frou-Frou?!" he gasps, seeing his horse out in the rain. His eyes widen even more when he sees familiar hair blowing messily in the wind and rain, covered only by a flimsy cloak.

He stands and runs outside, ignoring the calls from the confused maid. All he can think of is Frou-Frou and you. Frou-Frou doesn't do well with strangers and Alexei knows that the slightest jerky movement could startle him and he could unintentionally hurt you. You. Why would you steal his horse? In a thunderstorm no less? 

Are you running away?

"Y/n!" he screams into the yard. You're approaching the fence but Frou-Frou's never ridden outside of the manor without him. Alexei breaks into a run and curses when Frou-Frou makes a jerky movement, kicking you from his back as you scream. The rain is blurring Alexei's vision now as his white shirt becomes soaked. His hair is sticking to his forehead as mud from the grass sticks to his boots. You've fallen into the mud and grass, your skirt heavy under the extra weight of the rain.

Seeing him run up, you try to stand to run but the mud slows you down and you fall again. Frou-Frou panics from the rain and the situation and he runs off. "Damnit," Alexei curses, hesitating. He knows Frou-Frou isn't going to leave the grounds without him, so he turns and grabs you under your armpits. "What is wrong with you?!" he hisses as thunder cracks again. You kick your feet, mud splattering his trousers and Alexei's chest tightens when he sees the tears in your eyes. 

"Don't touch me!" you hiss, hitting him as you try to stand in the mud. 

"What were you thinking?" he demanded, pulling you upright. "Were you attempting to flee?"

"Why should it concern you?" you spat, wrenching your arm from his grasp.

"Because you are my betrothed!"

"And you do not love me," you hiss. Your heart is thumping and you hate how pretty he looks, wet and disheveled. You hate how your heart reacts to him in ways you're sure his doesn't when he looks at you.

Alexei groans, his head already hurting from this entire situation. He just holds you tighter. "You are correct—I do not know you well enough to claim such feelings for you. But I do not wish to see you harmed, running recklessly into a storm! My God, you already drive me mad! How am I supposed to tame you?" 

He sighs, his voice drifting when he realizes he's said the wrong thing as your expression twists into one of pure anger. You hit him with your palm, mud flying into his hair. 

"Tame me? Is that how you see me?"

"No, wait, I didn't mean it like that," he tries to explain, shielding himself as he keeps his hold on you. You're so different from when he'd met you yesterday when you'd been on your best behavior— he groans when you pull away, only to slip and fall.   

You shriek when he falls over you, the rain still pouring on you both. It's almost comedic now, your dress and his chemise a mess of dirt, mud, and rainwater. "Lady Y/l/n, please," Alexei tries again, struggling to get you to listen to him. 

Once he's leaning over you, his knees digging in the dirt as he holds your hands beside your head, he whispers; "My darling, please, you misunderstand me." 

You're breathing heavily now, your gaze intense. 

"I do not love you, but that doesn't mean it has to be like this our whole lives," he whispers, not sounding quite like himself. He lifts one arm, finger gently tracing your cheek as he slides the mud away. "It does not mean I want to see you hurt, running off in a storm with my horse." 

You calm your breathing and when you move to sit up, he does the same and you both catch your breaths. The rain is soaking you both, the cold air chilling your skin, and you watch him. He doesn't look as distant anymore. His skin is smeared in mud and his blond hair is askew. You push some wet strands of hair away from your eyes, half wishing he would have just let you run away. 

As the storm begins to calm and the rain softens to a gentle drizzle, Alexei's breathing is calm.

"I did not mean to frighten you," you murmur, your voice barely audible. "I just—I feel so out of place. As if I don't belong here. As if I don't belong with you in your world."

His expression flickers, and for the first time, you see a vulnerability he's been keeping hidden beneath his polished exterior. "Do you think I don't feel the same?" he asks quietly, his voice raw. "I have spent my life pretending to be the man everyone expects me to be. I have never been what anyone truly needs. I am not fit to be a good husband."

The honesty in his words sends a sharp hurt through your chest. "Then why chase after me?" you ask, your voice shaky. "Why not let me leave if you feel the same way?"

Alexei hesitates, then with a deep breath, he moves a little closer, his eyes searching yours. "Because," he begins, "when I saw you out here, stubborn and fearless in this storm, I realized something. You might be the only person brave enough to truly see me. And if I let you leave, then I would regret it until the day I die."

The rain has nearly stopped now, the storm's fury replaced by a stillness that feels almost unreal. You're unsure what to say, your chest tightening with the weight of his confession. For a moment, neither of you moves. The distance between you feels both vast and insignificant, the air thick with something that will probably remain unnamed.

Then, almost tentatively, Alexei leans in, the lips that had barely let themselves brush your hand, now kiss your forehead. You inhale.

"We can figure this out," he murmurs against your skin. "Together. Please do not run anymore. I can do better, for you."

You close your eyes, the weight of his words settling in your heart as you take them in. A moment passes and then you force a small smile, leaning into him as you nod.

"Okay. Let's go find Frou-Frou then," you whisper, earning a smile from Alexei. Your smile widens a little. Maybe your mother was right—maybe love could be learned. And perhaps, just perhaps, it could start here.

[nochedie]

sleepless | dean winchester 🌙

pairing: dean winchester x reader

genre: fluff

wordcount: 689

summary: after a night of staring at the ceiling, drowning in your own thoughts, dean helps you fall asleep

a/n: actually wrote this at 3am last night because i couldn’t sleep! i haven’t written for dean yet and i really wanted to show him love so here’s a short little drabble! listened to simulation swarm by big thief while writing 🫶🏼

2am.

your bare feet lightly padded across the laminate of the motel room floor, and you felt around to help you navigate the poorly lit room.

you flinched as your hip bumped into the table, making a bit of noise. you turned to look in the direction of the bed you got out of to grab a drink of water, and through the slight illumination from the moon through the sheer curtain, you could see dean stirring slightly and you hoped you hadn’t woken him.

the motel you were staying in had a small kitchenette with a refrigerator, and you had put a water bottle in there earlier in the day to cool. you grabbed the water bottle and savoured the feeling of the liquid on your dry throat, instantly refreshing. you took the bottle back over to the bed and placed it on the bedside table before trying your best to get back into bed without making any noise.

“you okay, baby?” dean spoke, voice even deeper than usual with sleep.

“yeah, i just needed a drink. go back to sleep, love.” you placed a hand on his hair, brushing your fingers through until you heard his breathing deepen as he fell back into a peaceful slumber.

you stared up at the ceiling, willing your eyes to shut.

3am.

you were still wide awake, having not slept a wink. you turned to dean, still fast asleep. you could just about see his silhouette in the darkness, and you leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his forehead.

3:30am.

dean began to stir beside you when you moved to grab the water bottle from the bedside table.

almost instinctively, and still half asleep, he reached out an arm to drape across your waist.

you paused your movements, frustrated with yourself for making too much noise and disturbing him.

“c’mere.” dean tugs your form slightly, prompting you to put down the water bottle and slip back down beside him.

“can’t sleep?” he tries to suppress a yawn.

“not really.” not at all, in fact. you hadn’t slept a wink all night and you didn’t even feel close to falling asleep.

one of dean’s hands found yours, and he placed a gentle kiss to your neck. “anything i can do?”

“no.. it’s alright.” you turned your body to face him, shuffling as close as you could as dean wraps you up in his arms.

“have you slept at all tonight?” he questioned.

“no…”

“baby…” dean brushes a few strands of hair away from your face. “is there something wrong?”

“there’s nothing wrong, really. it’s just… i don’t know, i guess i’ve been a bit more stressed than usual lately.”

“why didn’t you tell me?” his tone was soft and concerned. he wasn’t berating you, but rather worried that he had done something wrong or that you didn’t trust to tell him about any of your worries, big or small.

“i didn’t want to bother you with it…”

“you couldn’t bother me if you tried, sweetheart.”

“i worry about you. i worry about sam and cas. i worry about everybody we’ve ever known. i don’t think i could cope with losing anybody else…” your brain was full and it wouldn’t turn off. countless scenarios playing in your head on a constant loop.

“i worry about that too, baby… but you need your sleep. you must be tired.” truthfully, you were exhausted. but everything was just so loud.. it wouldn’t grant you peace.

dean knew you loved to hear him sing, even though he would only do it once in a blue moon and never in front of anybody but you. feelings of content smothered you as soon as the first note left his lips.

“i close my eyes… only for a moment, and the moments gone…”

after a few moments, the sound of his voice, his touch, his scent, him, muted the sound of your crushing thoughts.

it didn’t take you long after that to finally allow sleep to engulf you. by the end of the song you were fast asleep, your breathing deepening with each passing moment.

“sweet dreams, baby.”

comments, feedback etc always appreciated! thank you for reading!

[peachyscenes]

diet pepsi | enhypen x reader

scenarios inspired by lyrics from diet pepsi by addison rae

notes: suggestive, some more than others so proceed with caution. loss of virginity for jungwon's (both you and him), but no real smut. members are not in order to accommodate the order of the song lyrics, reader is described with female anatomy/female presenting!

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

RIKI

“my boy's a winner, he loves the game

my lips reflect off his cross gold chain”

the air is stuck in your lungs as his lips assult your own. your hands grip his shirt tightly, too entranced to let him go so easily. the hand that rested on your knee rides up, leaving behind a trail of fire on your skin. the tension between you two was so thick, he had to do something.

you were supposed to be tutoring him. he had pumped himself up to ask you for help with trigonometry, his friends hidden to not scare you off, but showing him support. he felt giddy when you showed him up to your room, everything about it was you. he was supposed to ask you on a proper date after the tutoring session, but currently his hands were busy playing with the hem of your skirt. not very gentlemanly of him. jay would not be happy.

you break away first to catch your breath. riki felt dizzy, his breathing staggered as his eyes close, reminiscing the feeling of your lips.

you catch a glimpse of your reflection on his pendant and suddenly feel heat rushing up to your face. the marks that riki had made on your neck were beginning to bloom.

riki's head is running when he finally looks at you, wondering if he had crossed a boundary of yours.

"hey, i'm sorry if i crossed the line. i was gonna ask you out afterwards but-!"

you shut him up by pulling on his pendant to meet you for another kiss.

JAKE

“i like the way he's telling me

my ass looks good in these ripped blue jeans”

you're both more than tipsy. giggles and whispers are shared amongst the two of you as you both sit on the couch. the house party was packed, but you and jake were in your own little worlds. there's a sparkle in his eye when he looks at you, everyone can see just how much you are to him. there's song changes to one that makes you perk up.

"wanna dance?"

the music thumps through your bodies as he sways with you. jake lets out another giggle when your hips roll with his own. your back is pressed against his chest and his hands are on your hips, rubbing his thumbs against your exposed skin. you both bask in each other's company. it's then that his hold on you tightens when the song transitions to a more intimate one. he leans down to give your cheek a kiss.

"you look so good, baby." jake was very appreciative of your outfit when he picked you up. he presses another kiss, but this time right below your earlobe. his lips linger there for a bit before he bites your lobe lightly. his fingers loop around your belt loops to pull your ass right up the front of his pants. he lets out a groan, quiet enough so that only you would hear.

"these jeans, i think you wanna kill me too."

JUNGWON

“my cheeks are red like cherries in the spring

body's a work of art you'd die to see”

earlier he had tripped over his pants when he took them off. you also accidentally smacked him in the forehead when you took off your shirt.

for being something you both anticipated, this night feels a bit embarrassing. but you try to not let it get to you, both of you too affected from the heat between your legs to truly stop. after you both successfully managed to strip down to your underwear, there's a moment of hesitation from him. you can see it in his face, he's overthinking. you smile at him when your eyes meet, and gently take ahold of his hands to set them on your stomach.

"it's ok."

he gives you a lopsided smile. his hands tremble when they move up your torso. it's cute, you think. jungwon's breath hitches when he finally takes your bra off. there's a bit of silence between you, but the hard-on he sports is a clear indication that he's just as excited as you are.

"so pretty..." he voices out loud. you shyly look away, a bit embarrassed at how much he's staring. jungwon giggles before sliding himself up to kiss your cheek.

"we're both nervous..." you state. he nods, leaning in to kiss your lips.

"do you wanna stop?"

you wrap your arms around his neck, and pull him in for another soft kiss.

"no."

SUNGHOON

“when we drive in your car, i'm your baby (so sweet)

losing all my innocence in the back seat”

though neither of you are open about your relationship at school, you make sure to let people know. guys who seek to ask you out are met with rejections from you, annoyed when they find out why.

"he's not a good person."

"he's a hooligan."

"he'll hurt you."

you ignore them, respectfully asking them to not speak ill of sunghoon and to leave you alone. your friends still think he has you blackmailed, but you assure them that they're wrong. this school day in particular feels longer, having to endure a nastier rejection response.

"i bet he doesn't even like you."

you wanted to curse at them. scream at how wrong they are.

of course sunghoon doesn't like you.

when the last lecture ends, you rush to gather your things, immediately running off to the exit that leads to the back of the school.

sunghoon is about to smoke a cigarette when he sees you, immediately hiding both the stick and the lighter behind his back.

"it's the first one of the day! i swear!"

you rolled your eyes, simply leaning up to kiss him. he immediately reciprocates.

no. like is too simple for sunghoon. love is not enough either, he told you once.

he's obsessed with you.

HEESEUNG

“break all the rules 'til we get caught

fog up the windows in the parking lot”

you're supposed to be at your club meeting right now. you're supposed to present the new project and your club's goals with another member. you simply emailed her the slides and told her you had an emergency to take care of.

his touch is electrifying. the place even more. there's a voice at the back of your mind that screams at you for not being careful enough. anyone could spot you two. but you trust heeseung more than yourself.

you look spent. your glasses are crooked and your skirt is hiked up to a more than inappropriate length. heeseung looks no better than you. your lipgloss is smeared on his lips and his dress shirt is unbuttoned from top to bottom, showcasing the number your nails did to his chest.

the windows of his old beat up car are so fogged up that anyone who walks by would know what had occurred.

heeseung simply smirks at you before leaning in to kiss you. a moan is ripped out of you when you feel his fingers dancing along your leg, hiking it up to expose you once again. there's a mischievous glint in his eye when he breaks away from your lips.

"round two?"

SUNOO

“summer love (ah, ah), sexy

sitting on his lap, sippin' diet pepsi”

you're the only ones at the movie theater. though the movie you came to watch is popular, you came on a weekday. you share a grin with sunoo, choosing to sit in different seats instead of your assigned ones.

this is your first date with him, after crushing on him all semester, you finally gathered the courage to ask him out. and it couldn't have gotten any better.

you both share a large drink, diet pepsi, and a large popcorn bucket, freely laughing out loud at the movie, making comments as there was no one to shush you.

at some point, you both end up holding hands. and then eventually he pulls you into his lap. his suddenness shocks you a bit, but you're not put off. you balance yourself on his lap, placing your hands on his shoulders to sit properly.

"y'know... i'm kind of bored." he says softly to you. his arms encicle your waist, slowly pulling you into him. you look at him, a bit confused. he sees you thinking, and you miss the mischievous grin that spreads on his face as you fall into his trap.

"what do you wanna do?"

he leans his face closer to yours, brushing his lips against your own. his heart is beating so erratically against his chest, he's sure you can hear it.

"why don't we kiss?"

the date just got a whole lot better.

JAY

“i write my name with lipstick on your chest

i leave a mark so you know i'm the best”

jay feels lightheaded. his legs are still shaking. he swallows as he relishes in this feeling. his hold on your hair softens, allowing you to rise up from the floor. your knees feel a bit wobbly, but you don't mind. you plop yourself down on his lap, arms coming up to loosely wrap around his neck.

he looks absolutely stunning.

his shirt is barely hanging onto his form, sweat glistening against his forehead. the hickies you drew from him more prominent.

your lipstick smeared on his lips.

you bite your lip at the sight of his post-orgasm glow, feeling more heat rush to your core. you're sure that there's a wet patch on his khaki dress pants if you stood up.

"you ok baby?" you ask him, nuzzling into his neck and breathing in his cologne. he manages to hum at you, hands sliding up from your legs to your waist, pulling you even closer against him. you can feel his member twitch, still not quite ready to settle down.

"did so good baby. truly no one like you." he grabs you by your nape to pull you towards his lips. you allow yourself to drown in his kiss, addicted to how he tastes. he pulls away, eliciting a whine from you as he gently lays you down.

"sorry baby, just wanna return the love."

[dynakatsposts]

"You're Not That Bad"

Pairings: K. Bakugo x Fem. Reader

Author's Note: "Love" by W2E has been playing on loop and I made a scenario in my head. I hope y'all like it!

Warnings: Swearing (cus it's Bakugo, alright?)

⋆. 𐙚 ˚❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･────୨ৎ────⋆. 𐙚 ˚❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You and Bakugo are classmates, but not friends. It's not that you two had any bad interaction, it's just that you two barely talk to each other. Yeah, sure, you two hang out, but because both of you have the same friends. Both in the same circle of friends, but barely interact with one another.

No one questioned any of you two. They probably understand why you don't interact much with Bakugo, unless it's about school work, or just some simple questions. You were like the class A's quiet student. Silently observing everyone around you. Minding your own business and not butting in anyone's conversations. Of course, they'll really understand why you're not that close with Bakugo.

But what they didn't understand is HOW Bakugo interacts with you. You ask a question, he responds just like a normal person would. If it was another person, let's say one of your classmates, their heads would have been blown off by his loud yelling. It's not because you are a complete stranger to him. No, because even if it was a complete stranger, he'd still be yelling at them. (Typical Bakugo)

The Katsuki Bakugo whose always rough and sharp around the edges, whose loud and brash, acts so soft and calm around you. You don't even notice the way the crease of his eyes soften when you come around. The way his voice will go soft when he speaks to you. The way his shoulders doesn't tense when it comes to you. This left everyone questioning how the hell did the great all mighty Katsuki Bakugo goes soft for the class A's quiet girl and you're completely oblivious about it.

How did this happen? Simple; he respects you as a person. What could be his reason? Well, it's because you didn't treat him like some kind of a king or a monster. Just a normal person. As much as Bakugo hated to admit it, sometimes, he just wishes someone could see him as a person. Not a person above them, not a monster, and definitely not a weakling. Just a person.

You treated him like one. Didn't praise him so much after some combat training, just a simple "Nice, that's cool." You don't go and comment something when he somehow makes a mistake (which he wouldn't admit even though it's so obvious). You don't fear him when the two of you are sparring, you just give all your best. You don't fake your words around him, just say the actual truth.

Since then, he has always respected you and is now probably interested in you. He can't deny that you're good-looking. He'll never deny that, but he also won't admit that he sees you in that way. You're small compared to him. So delicate like a beautiful flower. Skin looking soft like cotton. Mesmerizing eyes. Soft pinkish lips.

You're always in his thoughts. Bakugo never took himself as someone who'd be interested with any of these things, but it changed when it came to you. The Katsuki Bakugo has been admiring you from afar.

One day, your friends thought of hanging out in the mall, which you all agreed to. So here you are with your friends, along with Bakugo, who's been grumbling to himself that this was a stupid idea and how annoying they all were. But deep down, he didn't meant any of that. He's just a grumpy guy, which you find adorable.

Everyone started going their own ways, leaving you and Bakugo together.

"Those idiots... Dragging me here just to go away at whatever store their going to. Fucking stupid."

He grumbled to himself, shoving his hands on his pockets. Then looking at you, wondering why you're still here.

"Hey, why aren't you out with them?"

He asked, eyes softening as his gaze landed onto you. You're on your phone, scrolling through whatever you were looking at.

"It seems like you could use some company. I wouldn't mind staying here."

You said nonchalantly, closing your phone and putting it in your pockets before looking at him. He was surprised that you were willing to stay behind for him. He scoffed, but there wasn't any annoyance in it.

"You didn't had to. You could've just went with them. I'm not the most cheerful person, y'know?"

"Yeah? So? Do I always need to surround myself with cheerful people?"

He was caught off guard by your question. He knew to himself that you aren't an extrovert. More like an ambivert. But still, you choosing to stay with him was making him feel warm on the inside.

"You wanna go and hang out instead? It's okay if you don't wanna."

"Sure."

"Nice. Wanna go to this new cafe? They said they have good coffee."

"I'll be the judge of that."

You chuckled at his statement. He couldn't help but feel warm and at ease hearing you chuckle because of him. He's making sure to savor this time hanging out with you. (and maybe, just maybe, you two can hangout again. But that's another thought next time)

"You're not that bad..."

⋆. 𐙚 ˚❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･────୨ৎ────⋆. 𐙚 ˚❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Masterlist𔓐𑇓

[moonlight-prose]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 02. LOST IN TIME AND SPACE

a/n: logan angst with this fic is all i've been thinking about. mainly because he's the kind of man to swallow all of his feelings until it eventually kills him. so that's super fun to work with. and that scenario is basically this entire chapter. so please root for him, but also know he's not even close to dealing with his trauma. also the x-men timeline remains convoluted as fuck, so if the past of the logan who died doesn't make sense it is what it is. this is fanfic and we're all here to fuck him.

summary: the past is a thing he couldn't ignore. yet he still tried. and when the opportunity to spend a day with you utterly alone arises, he realizes that perhaps he doesn't want to forget about what brought him here.

word count: 6.6k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, angsty as fuck, some fluff, grieving a past he can never have back, logan goes through it, kissing, he's horny, me slightly abusing my literature degree, heartache, panic attacks.

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Logan never liked when the city fell silent. He hated the city in general. It unnerved him; scratched angrily against his chest until he couldn't find the peace he strived for. The city at night was filled with small noises—bangs in the distance, shouts of drunks wasted in the streets, and people finally turning in for the night.

They reminded him of the wars, the echoey expanse of nothing. Where every sound set his teeth on edge.

The cheap leather fabric of the couch stuck to his skin as he turned. He shoved his body into a standing position—his hands curling into fists. His skin remained sticky with a thin layer of sweat which only served to incense him further. Given the apartment's shitty air system, he'd be struggling through this for most of the summer. A fact he tried his best to ignore in the hopes that the fall weather would reveal itself sooner.

With a groan, he stripped himself of the thin tank top that clung to his skin. It didn't help to ease the humidity that hung in the air. It barely helped to cool off his body. But he'd take what he could get when what he could get was so little.

Wade's snoring echoed through the thin walls as he stood there, his body begging for a bit of sleep. Even if his mind refused to shut off. Images of you played through his head on a loop. The past was shadowed in pain, memories dipped in a venom he once wished would kill him eventually. Yet seeing you yesterday—a version that remained untouched by the depravity of what already happened—launched him back into a time that never seemed to be very far behind.

"You weren't there! And they needed you."

Silver ebbed from his knuckles as he faced the window—eyes shut and chest heaving. There was no question the sweat came from the humidity in the air. The cold chill along his spine however stemmed from you.

"You're not the Wolverine Logan. You're just a disappointment."

He fought the snarl that worked its way up his throat. A heavy pounding began to form at the front of his head. A drum he couldn't escape.

"Live with that."

If he opened his eyes. If he refused to give the memories even an inch of space in his mind. He'd have caught you standing there rummaging in the kitchen. A mug of tea forgotten on the counter the second you caught a glimpse of him getting up from the couch. You tugged at your sleep shorts as you stumbled towards the window—eyes heavy with sleep that simply wouldn't come.

Most nights it was easy. Long days at work left you utterly exhausted. To a point where staying awake felt odd and incomplete.

Tonight felt like hell.

No matter how many times you tossed and turned, you couldn't get the thoughts to settle. And all of them seemed to filter their way back to the man who currently faced you—his eyes shut and fists adorned with silver claws that slowly slid their way to freedom. You nearly dropped your kettle when he tore off his shirt, revealing sweat slicked skin lit up by the streetlights outside.

If you were braver you'd ask him to come over, join you in a sleepless night. But he had yet to see you standing there and you weren't one to draw attention to yourself.

So you stood and watched as he fought with whatever must have woken him up so late in the night. You witnessed his battle and wished you could be the one helping him. Maybe then he'd finally fall asleep soundlessly. His mind clear—body free of phantom aches from injuries that still haunted him. He may heal incredibly fast, but the mind...that took far too long to piece itself back together.

Before you could turn away, back to your now cold mug of tea, his eyes opened. Fixating immediately on your form in the window.

Few people in his life were able to calm the thunderous storms he weathered in his own mind. Jean and Charles did what they could. They brought back what he once thought was lost forever. Even you attempted to ease him from what he lived through—what he endured.

But that seemed to be the one thing your variant self was unable to comprehend.

He didn't need someone to fix him. He wanted someone to see him. To understand that there was no cure for a person this broken, no easy way out when things got this bad. He stood before you as a man riddled with far too much—scars that you'd never be able to see—yet he could see no hesitation in your eyes.

Something pulled at his stomach at the sight of you in small shorts and a tank top. Your skin exposed to the city as you watched him carefully. You analyzed him in a way that didn't make him want to put up a facade. And he found he liked it when you looked at him like this; with a burning need to know more clear in your gaze.

Your eyes trailed up his stomach, lingering on the hair that dipped down into his sweats. He wanted you to be here. Or him to be there. The location didn't matter as long as he could reach out and touch you—feel the warmth of your skin beneath his palm.

Minutes passed before your gaze found his face and Logan felt an itch in his body at the notion that you were fascinated by him. That even in a different universe with completely different memories, you couldn't help but be drawn to the man he was.

The horror of destroying another version of you should have made him want to turn away from the window.

Then you smiled.

A slow sleepy grin that lit up your face. You probably didn't think anything of it—simply a small offer of kindness in your shared sleepless night. Logan however swallowed it down as if you'd given him the best tasting whiskey on this planet. His chest tightened, head dazed as you stood there looking with enough reverence to kill him.

If only he could see the way your insides melted at the sight of him smiling back. The thoughts of lust and like racing through your mind the longer you stood there.

Eventually the sun would come up, you'd be called to work, and this would become a brief passing memory you'd both hold onto down the road.

Until that moment though you remained in this spot. Fighting the drowsiness for a chance to watch him a bit longer. To trace your eyes along his body and soak in the expressions that played across his weary face.

You could feel the prick of sleep in your eyes, your body dizzy as it begged for you to finally give in and crawl back into bed. Yet how could you leave him there? How could you walk away?

He seemed to catch the way you bit back a yawn and chuckled. Pressing his hand to the warm window, he nodded at you. To anyone else on the street it might look nonsensical—comical even. To you his message was loud and clear: Go to bed and I'll be here in the morning. I promise.

Reluctance yanked at your heart when he nodded again, his hand falling back to his side. Yet no matter how hard you tried to keep yourself awake—if only to steal another second of his gaze on your body—you knew it was futile. Fighting sleep never went well in the morning when coffee was your only salvation. With another smile, you waved slightly—pressing your hand to the window briefly as if to respond to his silence with some of your own.

Sleep well. I'll find you in the morning. I promise.

Logan woke up to the blaring horn of a taxi right outside. The shout of a man bounced off the buildings, cussing about traffic and for someone to get the fuck out of his way. He groaned, turning to his side in the hopes of catching another thirty minutes. But the city was alive and thrumming with its own heart beat.

To others the echo might have been familiar—peaceful.

To Logan it was like nails being dragged along a chalkboard.

"I fuckin' hate this city," he growled, getting to his feet and snatching his tank top from where he'd left it last night.

Surprisingly the apartment rang out with a sound he had yet to experience in this place. Silence. He peeked in the bedrooms briefly, expecting to find Wade still passed out. An empty room was all that greeted him—the fucking stuffed unicorn propped up perfectly on a surprisingly made bed. There was only one reason Wade tidied up his room.

Vanessa.

She was coming by here or Wade was going with her. Either way Logan didn't want to be around to hear what came next. He'd been privy to one too many nights of Wade reconciling his differences with Vanessa and all of them ended with Logan's head beneath a pillow. That or he snuck out to wander the city at night until he finally returned to a quiet apartment.

For a brief moment he wondered if he could find you at your place; his eyes settled on the view of your window across the one way street. The lights looked off, the living room empty. And he craved to know where in this city you disappeared to during the day. Where did you work?

Would you mind if he visited you there? If he took some time to hear your voice, see your smile.

He grabbed the shitty coffee bag that was tossed on the counter. No doubt due to Wade making some this morning. The machine was old, nearly broken, but it would make do for the time being. A neon yellow sticky note was stuck to the top—the scrawl of Wade's handwriting familiar.

Good morning peanut! Coffee is hot like you. Don't call me. Don't beep me. Because you don't need to reach me today. If you do, I'm at Ness's scoring for tens all across the board. I'm talking the head—

Logan groaned, crumpling the note and tossing it on the counter. Knowing information that Wade would probably tell him anyways wasn't how he wanted to start his afternoon. The cabinet creaked as he opened it, the plain blue mug he claimed as his sat in the front.

Another yellow sticky attached to it.

OF CHAMPIONS. I knew you wouldn't finish reading the note you gorgeous Canadian/Australian bastard.

P.S. Sweet angel's number. I was told to give it to you.

P.P.S. GET. SOME. (For the both of us.)

A crude drawing of Deadpool fucking the air was scribbled in the corner. The details were far too graphic for him to look at longer than a few seconds. Logan would have tossed the entire mug in the trash, but your number enticed him to stick it to the fridge as he made coffee strong enough to make the hair stand up on his arms. He glanced at it every few minutes, tracing the numbers as he considered what this meant.

Was this you telling him in simple terms that you wanted to get to know him? That his past and whatever he buried was something you wanted to learn.

His gaze burned a hole into the yellow paper as he drank his coffee, his mind racing at the possibility of speaking to you today. Some cash was stowed in the trunk Laura dragged from the previous Logan's home. Her claim was that he deserved to have it. Since he might have understood what it meant more than she did.

From what he could tell this universe's Logan was saving up for something—the wad of cash in the bottom of the trunk remained enough for him to get by until he found a stable place to set up a home. Somewhere near the mansion that still existed. He wasn't prepared to be a part of that life again just yet, but that remained the only spot that felt like home to him.

Even in a different universe.

Snatching the note off the fridge he grabbed his flannel, boots, and enough cash to last through the day. He had no location in mind. But knowing you wanted to spend time with him became the motivator he needed to actually leave the apartment.

The city was bursting with life—sounds filling the air as if it would replace the oxygen they consumed. He did what he could to ignore it. Slipping past people with ease, his eyes fixed on the small store that sat on the corner. He debated on ordering from the cafe across the street, wondering if you liked the place. If you came here for coffee and breakfast on days off.

He made a note to ask.

Thankfully the shop wasn't crowded with people—a shitty pop song blasted over the speakers. One he knew Wade would play to piss off your next door neighbors. Whether or not you actually liked Wade's music taste never crossed his mind. Or did you go along with it? Willing to do what it took to make them suffer.

"Just this," he grunted, tossing enough cash down to cover the bill and then some.

The burner phone was small in his palm as he yanked it out of the box and flipped it on. He didn't bother with getting an actual phone. What the fuck did he need that for? But this...he could do to make you entering his life a bit easier.

Every part of him screamed to push you away—make you hate him—but for the first time in his life, Logan didn't listen.

The shop door swung shut behind him as he dug out the sticky note, punching your number in carefully to not miss a single digit. Somehow in the midst of chaos, he was able to shut off the city noise when the phone began to ring. Half of him expected you not to answer. It was the middle of the day, you were at work, and this was probably more a hindrance than anything else.

Your voice filtering through the small speaker put his worries at ease within seconds.

"Hello?"

His heart jumped as he exhaled. "I hear you gave Wade directions this morning."

"Logan?" you asked, voice louder than before. The echo of someone shushing you came through, making him smile.

"Hey Honey."

A shaky breath left your lips. Logan felt his stomach clench at the realization you liked when he called you that.

"I didn't know you had a phone," you replied, much softer than before. "Wade told me you were too old for technology."

"Don't listen to anything that mouth tells you."

You laughed, breathy and cute, and he bit back a groan at the sound. "I'm glad he was wrong."

"He normally is."

"Where are you today?" Shuffling and a door shutting caught his attention as your voice rose in volume again.

A horn went off beside him, piercing his hearing. "Standin' on the street."

"Near our places?"

Oh he liked the sound of that. "Mhm." Another soft breath reached his ears; he felt his body go warm. "Where are you today honey?"

"Work." If he could see through the call, he'd catch you smiling. How your teeth dug into your bottom lip to stop the embarrassing giggle that nearly spilled free. "Do you...um...do you want to see it?"

The words slammed into his chest like a truck. The innuendo nearly enough to make him drop to one knee here in the middle of the street. And suddenly Wade's note came back to his mind. The crude drawing flaring to life as he pictured you saying those exact words in an entirely different situation. If he was a better man his jeans wouldn't have tightened. If he was a better man he'd have ignored it altogether.

Logan wished he was a better man. You longed for him not to be.

He cleared his throat, his grip tightening around the phone. "Where?"

"New York Public Library."

Vaguely the directions came back to him from decades past. He wondered if the building sat in the same spot on this universe as his own. In a rush of words, you gave him some instruction. He agreed to be there as soon as he could.

"See you soon Logan." The excitement wasn't hard to pick from your voice. That still didn't stop him from trying.

"Wait–"

"Yes?"

He turned. "Rosemary's? You like their coffee?"

Another laugh escaped you in a breath and Logan felt the walls around his heart chip. "Love."

Twenty minutes later you were greeting him on the side of the building with a smile he felt down to his adamantium bones. A warm coffee was pressed into your hand, a sandwich tucked safely into a small paper bag in the other. For the entire afternoon he formulated things to say to you, stories to tell. Yet all that came now was an awkward smile and a greeting that made his chest burn uncomfortably.

You thought nothing of it. Even as you led him inside and asked him about his morning. The sight of him holding coffee and wearing a grin was enough for you to lose it a little. The breath knocking from your lungs, warmth spilling into your stomach.

"I didn't know what you wanted–"

Taking another sip, you grinned at the glimpse of red that dusted the tips of his ears. "I don't mind what you got."

A stain of soft pink remained on the cup; Logan's eyes attached to it within seconds. You could see the way his pupils dilated slightly—his throat bobbing at the sight of something so small and delicate. That didn't help the way your heart flipped whenever he was near. As if he'd taken control of all your emotions—all the baseline wants that you could normally ignore.

"What do you do here?" he rasped, focusing on the way you watched him. Though the glaze of sleep was gone from your eyes, the way you analyzed him still remained.

"Archives."

Unlocking another door, you led him down a flight of stairs. The elevator would have been the easier route, but he didn't possess a badge nor a library card. You were pretty sure he wouldn't have gotten one either way. So sneaking him in was the way to go until you could convince him otherwise. What you didn't know was that you could have asked anything of him—anything you wanted—and he'd agree without hesitation.

He followed close behind, unwilling to let you get a few feet away. As if he was drawn to you in ways that didn't seem possible.

"I work on making sure things are properly placed in the correct spot. Older books, newspapers from decades ago, stuff like that."

Humming, he watched as you opened the final door—letting him see the grand room that lay below filled with an infinite row of bookcases. Boxes that had yet to be gone through, files not placed properly, and piles of books that stacked on rows of tables. Each one contained a certain label of where they belonged.

"So a librarian?"

Laughing, you shut the door behind him with a soft click. "Kind of. I'm not working upstairs and handing out books like the actual librarians do. We hermits down in the basement prefer the term archivist."

"Hermits," he huffed. "You don't look like a hermit to me."

"Looks can be deceiving Logan."

That was a fact he knew too well. One that kept him up at night, replayed in his dreams without end. Oftentimes he wondered if he'd been the one to deceive. If his persona and reluctance to help gave others the impression that he was the man to turn to. The hero they needed. He never asked to be seen that way—never wanted it—yet when the time came...he couldn't run away from the truth.

The idea of telling you all this came to him last night as he watched you walk back to your room.

What stopped him was the image of the other you, grief stricken and horrified as he stumbled home from the bar.

"I have some questions for you." Your voice pulled him from his thoughts.

The small table in the back was free of books and you took a seat, pulling your sandwich from the paper. He took the chair across from you, his legs bumping into yours as he tried to cram them in the small space. The apology was quick to land on his tongue. Although your smile and the feel of your ankle curving around his leg killed it instantaneously.

"I'm hoping you have some answers."

He swallowed thickly, ignoring the way you shifted—your knee brushing his. "Now that depends."

"On?"

"Are they easy questions?" He grinned at the way you spoke around your mouthful of food—intrigue lighting up your eyes.

You slid half the sandwich towards him, not pretending to see the way he tried to refuse. He took a bite when your foot jammed in his calf. A pointed look crossing your face as if to say: eat because I know you haven't.

"What am I like?"

He nearly choked on the bread. "Do you mean..."

With a nod, you grabbed another bite, oblivious to the way his tongue swiped along his bottom lip. His eyes fixed on the way your teeth sunk into the meal and oil spread at the corner of your mouth. Tearing the sandwich in half would have been the better option. Biting where he mouth was seemed to be what you liked better.

His insides stirred deliciously, heat forming at the way your lashes fluttered at the taste.

"The other me," you mumbled, giving him the rest. "You said we were friends." When he didn't respond you kept going. "Wade alluded that we might have been...more than friends."

Fucking Wade Wilson.

Logan leaned back, his hand curling into fists in his lap as he once again fought the urge to take off. "He sure likes to run his goddamn mouth."

Anxiety sparked in your chest and you fell silent. Perhaps it wasn't the right time to bring it up. Or even something to bring up. Yet curiosity always ate you alive—the idea of not knowing the full truth. And when Wade briefly said Logan was still pining over a version of you that didn't exist on this Earth, you tried not to let it consume you.

You fought against your baser instincts in the hopes that one day he'd tell you himself.

Then he showed up. Offering you coffee and friendship and possibly more.

How could you ignore it then?

You knew he was watching you, could feel the burn of his eyes along the side of your face. Silence echoed loudly in the room as the old wooden bookshelves creaked and the chatter of people upstairs began to filter down below.

"I'm sorry," you uttered, doing what you could to move past whatever this was. "I shouldn't have asked. We can go look at some stuff if you want. I have newspapers from the seventies you might want to see–"

"I loved you."

You froze, head whipping around to meet his solemn gaze.

"On my Earth you were mine." With a sigh, he leaned forward. "And I fucked it all up. No I didn't just fuck it up. I ruined you."

"Logan..." you breathed. "I'm not them."

"I know." Sorrow flooded his hazel eyes—the grief playing across his face like a film you shouldn't be watching. And for the first time...you saw the man Wade spoke about. The broken version of a Logan that was found in a bar wallowing on his own world. "But I can't do that to you again. I won't."

This wasn't an omission of the truth. Nor a confession of his greatest sins. This was a promise lined with the guilt of his past. Memories of a time you'd never witness played out in his mind and he longed to show them to you.

To give you a piece of what he once had with a version of you that loathed his existence now.

But that isn't why he happened upon you on this Earth. History would remain exactly as it was. He couldn't change that. However, this—whatever he shared with you now—he could keep safe. The promise he made so long ago might finally be shown the respect he never thought to give it before.

"Come with me," you said softly, standing with a hand outstretched for him to take.

With a hesitant breath, he wrapped his calloused palm around yours and let you take the lead.

Past bookshelves and rows of boxes stacked nearly to the ceiling, you stopped at a shelf marked with words he'd seen a thousand times before. X-MEN. You tugged a box free and carried it to the table behind you—the top flipping open with ease as he caught sight of the pile of papers within. A list was taped to the side of what this might contain. Names he knew, people that might still exist on this Earth.

"This is all we know about the Logan in this universe." You pulled out a file, a picture of his variant clipped on top. He was rugged—aged.  "It's not much, but it shows a bit of his past."

"Why are you showing me this?"

"So you can see what others see."

You handed him a photo of the X-Men. Jean and Scott stood on either side of Charles. Logan was off to the side, a cigar in his mouth and a cocksure grin on his lips. He hated the man before he knew him. Always hearing how fucking wonderful he was; how great a hero he used to be.

He selfishly wanted to be everything this version of himself was.

He wanted to be the hero he could never amount to.

"What happened to 'em?"

You glanced at the image, pulling another file out. The name punched the breath from his lungs as you flipped it open. JEAN GREY: ALIAS - PHOENIX. An image of her smiling at a lecture was pulled free—her hair red and down to her waist.

"I don't know much, because well Charles Xavier never disclosed information about the X-Men lightly. But...something happened to her. From what we know...Logan was the one to kill her."

The file fell on the table, his heart twisting violently in his chest as the words flooded his mind. He killed her. He killed Jean. The woman he once loved before you came into his life. Something severed in his body, the breath in his lungs was suddenly hard to come by. But the touch of your hand on his kept him from completely falling into that dark pit he fought to climb out of.

"He–" Logan sucked in a breath and shut his eyes to the image of Jean. "He killed her?"

You nodded, silent while he processed the information. Showing this to him wasn't an act of malice—he knew that. You didn't want him to suffer. You simply wanted to prove that the Logan that once existed wasn't the greatest to have ever lived. He was simply a man suffering the plight of guilt the universe handed him.

He had his own cross to bear. His own nightmares to fight through.

In some ways...they weren't so different.

"You're not the worst Logan," you admitted, letting him lean into you. "And he wasn't the best Logan." Your hand pressed to his cheek, eyes soft and warm. "He was just a man who was offered a terrible hand in life."

Logan huffed, his forehead finding yours as he breathed in your scent. "So you're sayin' I'm just a man?"

"I'm saying that the James Howlett in this universe probably thought he was the worst Logan too."

The words shouldn't have struck him the way they did. Their truth, louder than anything in this building. But the blunt and hardened reality stared him in the fucking face, and he had no choice but to meet it's gaze. The Logan of this world wasn't perfect. He fucked up. He ruined things. Yet he found a way to fix them. Put the pieces back together in order to obtain something that resembled the image of his life.

As much as he fought to claim he wasn't anything like the Logan that once walked this Earth.

He was finding it hard to see where they differed.

"Show me somethin' happy honey," he replied gruffly, his hand finding your hip with ease. "Show me somethin' you like."

The smile you rewarded him with placed some breath back into his chest. "What like books?"

"If that's what you love."

"I don't think we have enough time."

His hold on your hip tightened. "'M here all day."

"Yeah?" Turning away from him, you dug through the box. Down to the very bottom. "They found these at what they think is his grave."

Silver flashed in his vision before you were pressing a pair of dog tags into his hand. The name WOLVERINE was etched into the metal—its cold touch practically burned the skin of his palm. For years he thought he'd never see these again. A piece of his past he couldn't bring with him.

"I thought you'd want to have them."

"They're his," he croaked.

"And you're the Wolverine. They're as much yours as they were his."

Fingers closed around them as the chains dangled from his hand, and Logan felt his heart place another bit back into the correct spot. He never believed he belonged with people. Never wanted to hurt them. Yet life continued to surprise him. The metal was familiar to his touch. Years of toying with them, of having their comfort on his chest, kept him sane at some points. It helped to remind him of who he was.

Without even realizing it...you gave that back to him.

He wanted to tell you how much this meant. How grateful he felt. But he was never good with words.

So he pressed his lips to your cheek and let them linger there as heat pulsed in your body. The race of your heart made him grin. Simply knowing you liked him hiked up his ego in ways he didn't need at a time like this. But like the Logan that came before...he was a sucker when it came to resisting the aspect of love.

"Show me around bub."

You slid your hand into his, your lips nearly brushing as you turned to catch his gaze. "Okay."

"Why work there?"

The city at night exuded a different kind of energy that you frequently craved during the day. A fun lightness that normally hit when the clock struck six p.m. and people were finally out of work. You were allowed to leave earlier than expected due to a birthday gathering of coworkers going on downtown.

An invitation was offered. Until they saw Logan standing behind you and your plans for the night became clear.

"I love history." He offered to walk you home. You accepted on the single condition that he'd stay for dinner. "How humanity went from one thing to the next and so on."

He scoffed and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you out of the way of someone barreling by. "You don't have to explain that part to me bub. You're lookin' at a man who lived it."

"Did you?" The look you gave him had the feelings of want he pushed down earlier rearing their head. "Actually live through it?"

"I was born in 1832."

With a gasp, you clutched his arm. "Were you really?" you exclaimed. "That means you saw so much of history. Things we might not have written down."

And suddenly within moments...there you were from his world. Bright and beautiful and in love with the past. At first he believed it was due to your abilities; now he understood that's just who you were deep down. Always in love with what you couldn't fully figure out—the past you could see if you managed to travel back far enough.

"You have to let me pick your brain for facts."

He tugged you closer, stopping off to the side of the busy street, until you were stuck in his hold with nowhere to look but up at him. "Picking my brain ain't gonna be fun honey."

Your eyes were wide, lips parted slightly. "I disagree."

"You forget. Different universe. The history I know might be different from the one you know."

No matter how hard you tried, you could never hide the disappointment that flooded your eyes. "I'm sure it's not that different."

"Hm." He pressed a thumb to the top of your cheekbone, struck by how soft your skin felt beneath his. "Why don't you tell me yours. And then maybe I'll tell you mine."

The double entendre was layered in the lust that clouded his vision—the need that burned in his stomach. Logan hoped you understood it. Could see how much he ached for you. How you affected him since he first caught a glimpse of you yesterday. And seeing your pupils dilate, your chest heaving slightly, made his swell with pride. Saliva filled his mouth at the thought of one day getting a taste of you, but the sound of a horn going off behind him shattered the moment.

You stepped back with a deep inhale, your hand still in his. Which only served to prove Logan's point.

He fucking hated the city.

"Dinner?" you breathed, voice raspy with that feeling you tried to fight against.

Logan managed to turn you inside out. Pulling exactly where he needed to expose your heart. That alone should have terrified you. Yet the thrill of knowing him, of seeing where this might lead, kept you enamored and wanting for more.

"Lead the way."

What plans you created and meal you planned to order were lost the second you ascended the stairs to your apartment and stood in front of your door. The silence of the building was deafening compared to the noise outside. So much so that every breath you took echoed loud against the shitty yellow stained walls. Logan could hear the thump of your heart as it rammed within your chest. Quickening the closer he stepped towards you.

You turned, your back to the door and eyes dazed—unfocused. "I can order something."

His nostrils flared as your familiar scent began to deepen, mix with the arousal that seeped through your body. "That could work."

"What do you like to eat?"

The smile he gave you could only be described as canine. Near feral. "Dangerous question honey."

"What do you–" Shock flashed in your eyes, heat spilling into your face as the words finally processed. "Oh."

Logan wasn't hungry in a way that might seem normal to you. He didn't want to taste you, he wanted to devour. To feel you in ways that would scare you shitless. He craved you potently—viscerally. And perhaps it would scare you off.

Although something told him it wouldn't.

Silence no longer felt all consuming and horrid when he took one more step, crowding you against your door. You should have kept the conversation going. Laughed it off with a flippant smile and an offer of real food. Though neither of you could give a shit about dinner. That fact became evident the second he cupped the back of your neck and slotted his lips against yours.

A moan of surprise tore from your throat and Logan let out a growl to match. He kissed you fervently. Lips pressed hard and hot against yours, tongue sliding along your teeth, and somehow it never felt like enough. He'd dreamed of this for years. For the taste of you again, the gentle grip of your hands that dug into his hair and pulled.

That alone sent a groan echoing down the hallway, his body colliding with yours as your back hit the door. Your teeth found his bottom lip while his hands slid down to your ass, gripping and tugging until you could feel the prominent bulge through the denim of his jeans.

"Logan," you gasped, your tongue meeting his with another sharp tug on hair.

He slammed a hand against the door beside your head, his hips rutting down as you met the movement with one of your own. You wanted to drag him inside. Needed to feel his bare skin on yours. But something pulled tight against your chest as he stuttered into the kiss. The unfamiliar sound of his claws sliding out and puncturing the wood of your door made you jump.

"Sorry," he muttered, sliding his lips down your throat—teeth nipping the vein. "Happens."

"You owe me a door." You sounded breathless.

He brought his lips back to yours with a fury you'd never experienced before. "I'll buy you a new one." Your hips dragged along his, nails digging into the hot skin on the back of his neck. "I’ll fuckin’ make you one," he snarled.

The thought of someone passing by, seeing you nearly held up against your door by a man who's claws were embedded in it, was laughable. Yet you couldn't stop wondering what would happen if you let this go further. If you allowed him to take you right here out in the open.

Logan could smell the way you dripped for him and it drove him fucking insane. His body begged him to keep going. To slam open the door and bury himself in you right there on your kitchen floor. The way you whined into his mouth, rubbing yourself along his crotch, told him you wanted the same.

And he might have done just that.

If they hadn't started.

They're dead because of you!

Memories flashed in his mind with a rage unlike the past few times. Your face, tear stained and rageful. The way you used your powers against him. Tried to kill him for what happened. It all came rushing back with a lungful of air that burned.

I hate you!

"Logan?" You pulled back slightly, hands cupping his face with enough care he could feel the sting of tears start to build. "Are you okay?"

It should've been you that died Logan. Not them.

He sucked in a breath, ripping himself away from and stumbling a few steps back. Fighting against the past wasn't new to him. He'd been broken by it before. But now he couldn't even enjoy the sight of you with swollen lips and ruffled clothes, because all he saw when he closed his eyes was the other you.

The one he broke.

"I'm fine." His voice was raspy as he choked out the words.

A need to help him rang through your body and Logan could see it. He knew how badly you wanted to come to him—to hold him. This simply wasn't your battle to fight. He refused to change that in any way.

Standing up straight, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. An apology for the actions he was about to take.

He only hoped you wouldn't hate him for it afterwards.

"We'll do dinner another night, honey."

"Logan–"

"Goodnight." Walking away from you felt as if he'd ripped a hole in his chest with an adamantium bullet. One that wouldn't heal like before.

The dog tags were now wrapped around his neck, choking him like a collar he couldn't free himself from. A reminder that even the Logan of this world was unable to stop himself from destroying the one he loved. That was the plight they carried.

Their greatest grief. The one thing they had in common.

This...he could accept.