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skzdarlings · 1 month

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everything ; skz ; werewolf!felix x reader

requested by @yongbbokkie: if possible, can I have Sunshine!Felix with the prompt/s: ❛ i'm waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you. ❜ and ❛ do whatever you want with me, i'm yours. ❜

((maybe it's a pining from afar situation and something puts them in close quarters and Felix just can't help himself anymore))

read on ao3

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: werewolf!au. friends2lovers. miscommunication and misunderstandings followed by resolution and smut. mentions of reader being in a past abusive relationship though the circumstances are not detailed. not omegaverse just werewolves but mentions of rut cycles and slightly different physiology.

this is, um, the wettest thing i've ever written. there is no other word for it. so much come, masturbating (reader walks in on felix), pervy masturbating using reader's stuff lol, massive breeding kink, multiple rounds, scenting, possessiveness, throat-grabbing, biting, pussy eating, squirting, dirty talk. did i mention come.

word count: 15800 words. (hope it makes up for the delay hehe)

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy <3

For a few moments, Felix is yours. There is no awkwardness, no reluctance, just dancing, just friendship.

The club is packed so tightly, the lights and music as roaring as lightning and thunder. The extra stimulation overwhelms the senses, even werewolf senses. He doesn’t think and neither do you. You just dance, finding each other in the bouncing circle of your half-drunk friend group. He smiles and you take his hand, letting him pull you across the dance floor and into his arms.

You’ve missed this smile. You’ve missed these arms.

Sure, Felix is still your best friend and he is never truly far. The distance is not literal, just emotional, and that is so much worse.

Ever since his werewolf genes kicked in, ever since a pack took him in, things have just been… different.

Right now, you can pretend nothing has changed. You are far away from ivory moons waning over woodlands, of werewolf packs and supernatural powers. His senses are diluted here, overpowered by so many moving bodies and so much wild noise.

Felix smiles, that wonderful big smile that crinkles his eyes so sweetly. Lights flash over him, his blonde hair nearly glowing, his freckles like stars. He’s your best friend again. All yours for a few precious moments.

He’s bigger than he was, you think, with a bit of a flush, as you dance closer to him, his arms circling your body. Or maybe I just never noticed before.

Felix is not very tall, but he is not small either, lean and athletic and confident in every inch of his body. It feels like he is everywhere. Every time a strobe light flashes over him, he seems a little closer. You breathe in his cologne, subtler than it used to be because his sense of smell is so powerful now, but still recognizable.

You are definitely not a werewolf, but you are captivated by that smell. Something oak, woodsy, masculine but pretty. So very Felix. You want to bathe in that smell, luxuriate in him. You spent so many nights curled into his side, sharing his bed, wearing one of his hoodies, that you associate that scent with everything good, safe, and home.

His hands dance up your sides very softly, his breath puffing across your cheek as you dance and dance. One song pours into the next. You lose track of time. In forgetting the world, you forget yourself. You slide your arms around his shoulders and press close to him.

You used to hug him like this so easily, but you have hardly touched him at all the last few months. Felix could never be cruel to anyone so he has not outright rejected your usual closeness, but it is obvious that your touch now makes him uncomfortable. The last thing you ever, ever want to do is hurt Felix. So you have followed his lead. Every time he accidentally pulls a face – a displeased twitch of his nose, an upset furrow of his brow – you have backed away.

It’s just the werewolf senses, you keep telling yourself. He’s more sensitive now, that’s all.

He still hugs the others. The werewolf boys love rough-housing, in fact, tumbling all over each other constantly.

That’s different. Yes, very different than this, right here, right now, his hands sliding down your sides – slowly, like he is memorizing the shape of your waist. He squeezes your hips and it fills you with heat. His hot face touches yours, cheek to cheek. The music is pounding, a frantic sound, but you are slow dancing, keeping to the rhythm of your heartbeats where they beat against each other.

You slide a hand up the back of his neck, into his long blonde hair. You feel the shudder move through his whole body. It makes your legs feel weak, realizing the effect you have on him. It seems impossible, especially with how much he has pushed you away, but there is no way he is shivering for any other reason. He cannot possibly be cold. The club is packed and, besides, he is not human. He runs hot.

So hot. He radiates it, burning where your bodies press together. Felix has always been the sunshine that keeps you warm, but this is a different heat. You know better than to succumb to it, knowing this moment will pass, but right now it is so easy to cling to him, to breathe him in, to feel like the world is just you and him.

The real world soon returns. It’s getting late so your friends call it a night.

“We’ll drop you off, yeah?” Chan says to you. Felix lives with him and the other wolves now. They all have their own apartments but they live in the same high-rise. You live a few blocks down, close, but not quite belonging.

“I don’t mind walking,” you say.

You do not want to intrude and you do not want to make Felix uncomfortable. He doesn’t even know Chan is offering you a ride because he standing so far away.

Felix is looking at his phone, slouched against the car while everyone organizes themselves. He is wearing a leather jacket, a white shirt, blue jeans, his long hair falling into his face. You want to brush it back, feel it between your fingers. You want to lift his face and see his smile.

But he doesn’t look at you. Now that you are outside, now that the heat has dissipated and the cold breeze carries your bland, dull, human scent, now that he can remember you are not special and not like him – now, he is someone else, and you are too, and it is cold and dreary and miserable.

“What?” Chan says. He is such a good pack leader and a good friend, but it makes him utterly oblivious to little dramas like this. “You’re not walking by yourself this late at night, don’t be crazy. Come on.”

The pack leader does not take no for an answer. Even though you are not in the pack, being human, there is no refusing Bang Chan. He grabs you by the wrist and drags you to his car.

Jeongin is in the front seat. Seungmin takes a back corner before Felix can lift his head, before he even knows you will be in the car too.

Felix looks tense when realizes he is trapped with you. Whether he takes the middle seat or the other corner, you will be beside him. If standing together outside is so intolerable, then being in a car is going to be torturous.

“I can walk,” you say to him.

“What?” He shakes his head. When he smiles, it is not his usual smile, not something real. You know the difference. His proper smile brightens you but this smile makes your heart sink. “Of course not,” he says. “C’mon. It’s late. Let’s get home, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, but he is already gone, taking all sense of home with him.

You take the middle seat. Felix rolls his window down and leans towards it. His eyes are closed the entire journey, the wind blowing across his tired face.

Seungmin is also a werewolf but he does not seem bothered by your human scent. Jeongin and Chan, the other packmates, likewise seem indifferent, chatting about everything and nothing, totally unperturbed. And you must cross paths with many werewolves during the day, but no one ever seems bothered by you.

Felix is the only werewolf who seems to have a problem with your scent. You do not know what it is that affects him so deeply. You have tried changing soaps and shampoos but nothing seems to help. It must be something natural to your human body. Humans do not smell like werewolves in general. Werewolves release pheromones that humans cannot smell, and it is important in forging interpersonal dynamics. That includes romance. Werewolves mate for life. You know they find their true mates through smell as much as the other senses. They are biologically wired to pursue their perfect match based on all those senses.

You are not a werewolf. You can never be his true mate. In the few months since he fully and rapidly developed his werewolf senses, Felix has withdrawn from you even though he promised it would never separate you.

You used to talk about what would happen if his werewolf genes activated. He comes from a family of werewolves but the gene lays dormant in certain carriers. Most werewolves develop in puberty if they develop at all. Some people never develop their wolven senses or powers. A minority, like Felix, are triggered by something in adulthood and succumb all at once.

It was always a possibility, however minute, but he promised things would stay the same. He said you were his person, that best friend did not even suffice as a word to describe your love.

You’re my world, you know, he said one night, speaking with the sort of earnest sincerity that only Felix could, his deep voice rumbling in your ear as you cuddled into him.

You wanted to say it back but you were hurting at the time. You ended a bad relationship a year earlier. It took your tender heart far too long to realize how badly your ex-boyfriend was treating you. When Felix found out the details, he was furious, though he kept it down around you. You had never seen your best friend so emotional. He became even more protective in the aftermath.

He showed you, time and time again, what real love is supposed to be. It doesn’t rush or demand, it doesn’t manipulate or coerce, and it doesn’t ask you to be small. He would hold you all night if that’s what you needed. He would make you laugh and let you cry.

You slowly realized true love had been in front of you, all this time, begging to be seen.

At least, you thought so. After such a bad relationship, you were taking it slow, and Felix never rushed you. You thought, maybe, one day…

But just when you were ready, everything changed. The werewolf gene unexpectedly activated. Felix was admitted to a wolven hospital and underwent his first transformation under a full moon. When he came home, he was different. Sure, he was still Felix, with his long dyed hair and his many freckles and his sun-kissed skin, but his brown eyes were so very different when he looked at you.

If he looked at you, which he avoids these days.

“Home sweet home,” Chan says, parking the car outside your apartment building.

Felix wastes no time getting out of the vehicle, practically spilling onto the sidewalk in his haste. He holds the door for you but averts his gaze.

You thank Chan, say good night to the other boys, then you shuffle across the seat and step out of the car. Felix still does not look at you, pretending he is distracted with something across the street.

You are a little tipsy, your emotions easily riled. You want to say good night so it will finally prompt him to look at you, but you are suddenly very choked up. Thoughtlessly, you touch his arm instead.

He flinches. It feels worse than a slap.

You do not look at him again, hurrying to the building before he can see the tears in your eyes.

Miraculously, you hold them in until you reach your apartment. You are one foot in the doorway when the tears spill, all the emotions you’ve suppressed over the last few months finally flooding free. The door falls closed with a slam and the whole world collapses under you.

You drop right there, knees pulled up to your chest and face buried in your hands.

You spent so many nights like this, crying all alone until you worked up the courage to tell Felix about your bad relationship. He was immediately understanding. It was so foolish to fear he would ever judge you. He put an arm around you and held you all night.

He is the person you want to call when you are hurting. It is agonizing to be without him. He is the one person you need and the one person you cannot call right now.

You let yourself feel sorry and miserable. When the tears have subsided and you are slouched against your door, empty and tired, you make a decision to end this. You have spent too much of your life collapsed on the floor and crying on your lonesome. You refuse to do it again.

As horrible as it is, you need to distance yourself from Felix. This slow deterioration of your relationship is excruciating. If he decides to reach out, you will be there, but you simply cannot continue to compromise yourself.

You somehow manage to wash up and get in bed. You sleep through the morning and rise late, delaying the inevitable a little longer by scrolling on your phone. Felix used to be the first text of the day but there is nothing from him. You would usually message anyway but today you put your phone aside and get out of bed.

So much of Felix is in your apartment. Borrowed hoodies, games, books, and so much more. Items are littered everywhere from the bedroom to the bathroom to the kitchen and back. It takes an hour and you are not sure you find everything because he is so inextricably woven into your living space. You do not even see it anymore because it – because he – is always there.

You fill a cardboard box. Your plan is to walk the couple blocks to the high-rise and return it with a vague explanation. You are not sure what to say. Perhaps it is best to opt for brevity. After all, this is not a break-up because you are not a couple.

No, you think, staring at the full box with watery eyes, this is worse.

You make it a few steps out your door before you drop the box. It is way, way too heavy for you to carry two feet, never mind two city blocks. Already panting with exertion, you stare at the box taking up a huge slab of the narrow corridor.

You really don’t want to ask him to come get it, nor do you want to make multiple trips. You are scared that if you give him the opportunity, he will try and reassure you that nothing is wrong and you don’t need to do this. You’ll believe him in the moment, but then it will start all over again.

Like ripping off a bandage, it has to go all at once. It’s time to heal.

You push the box, budging it down the corridor inch by slow inch. You reach the elevator and press the call button. You calculate the logistics of pushing and shoving the box for two blocks, mostly concerned the cardboard will rip if it snags on something outside.

Lost in thought, you don’t see a person in the elevator and accidentally shove the box at him. He yelps, a loud cry of surprise as he jumps aside. It makes you leap out of your skin, shooting upright to look at him.

Some of your despondency leaves at the friendly face of your neighbour.

“Changbin!” you say. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even see you there.”

“Hey now,” he says, winking, his handsome face plastered with a grin, “I’m not that short.”

“No, of course not,” you say, laughing along with him.

Changbin is a werewolf as well. There are a lot of packs on this side of town because the large national park is nearby. The wolves like to use the expansive forest when the full moon cycle swings around.

“Moving out?” he asks with an eyebrow quirk.

“Ah,” you say. “Not quite.”

You explain your predicament, that the box belongs to a friend and you need to somehow reach his apartment building two blocks away. Changbin, ever the charmer and ever the helper, immediately offers his aid.

“Oh, you don’t have to—” you start, but he has already swung the big box into his arms.

Werewolves do have supernatural strength. Changbin looks strong, with big biceps and a stocky frame, never mind the supernatural enhancement. He doesn’t even break a sweat. The box might as well be empty for all the difference it makes to him.

He is kind enough to walk two blocks to the high-rise. You chat on the way and find the conversation flows easily. You also can’t help but notice he has no problem with your scent. It really is just Felix who seems so repulsed.

You ring the buzzer for Felix’s apartment but there is no answer. You try a couple more times, embarrassed because Changbin is waiting. Fortunately, he is very non-plussed, humming to himself while you ring the buzzer.

After a few tries, you ring Chan instead. He answers promptly and you explain the bare bones of the situation, that you have a box for Felix and you would appreciate if he could pass it along. Chan agrees, of course.

Maybe it is for the best. You can leave the box with Chan and not even have to confront Felix at all.

Chan buzzes you into the building. Changbin walks you to the elevator where he puts the box down. You thank him profusely but he waves it off and states he was happy to help.

It looks like he wants to say something more, looking at you while he rubs the back of his neck. In the end, he says he will see you around and departs.

You exhale. The worst of your nerves have dissipated since Felix is not even home. You have been the one instigating your interactions the last few months so you figure if you just quietly step back, he won’t even notice.

It pains you to admit it, that you could disappear from his life and he would just… not care. You stuff those feelings down, down, down for now. You prepare a friendly smile for Chan so he doesn’t ask too many questions.

When you reach the pack floor, you give the box a good shove into the corridor. Chan lives directly across from the elevator so you don’t have far to go.

Except there are voices in the corridor. You turn towards the sound.

An awful chill freezes in your blood, your whole body going rigid at what you see.

Felix is home. He is standing in his open doorway, half-dressed in a pair of jeans and nothing more. His long hair looks more dishevelled than usual, like someone has been running their fingers through it.

Someone. He is talking to a young woman. You don’t know her too well, simply that she is the only female werewolf in Chan’s small pack. She is wearing more clothes than Felix but still very casual in shorts and a t-shirt, barefoot like this is her home. You suppose it is, much more her home than yours.

She belongs. You do not.

Her and Felix are standing close while they converse. So close. They speak to each other in hushed tones, her expression tender and sympathetic while Felix winces in seeming pain. The details of their conversation are inarticulate at a distance but their voices are nonetheless audible.

Your scent reaches Felix first. He straightens so fast it would be comical under any other circumstances.

Nothing is funny right now. You feel like a complete and utter fool, standing in his corridor with a box of his things like he cares about them at all. He has already moved on. You were in denial, a stupid little human girl still clinging desperately to old memories.

“I better go,” the woman says. She leans up and kisses Felix on the cheek, gives him a little wink and mumbles something only he can hear. She turns and walks into the apartment next door, giving you a genuinely friendly wave. She has always been polite to you and you have no reason to dislike her. You can only wave back pathetically.

Your hand slaps your side when she disappears into her apartment. You and Felix look at each other.

He looks guilty. Sweat dots his hairline, streaks his bare chest, and his face is flushed. It is very obvious what he has been doing all morning.

The thought of such a fantasy was once tantalizing. The sight of him, like this, would make you dizzy. You remember the last time he casually took off his shirt, the swoop of desire that moved inside you, a sensation you did not even know you could still feel after your bad relationship.

Now that swoop is just nausea. There is no pleasure in it at all.

You are completely mortified.

“Hey,” Felix says. His deep voice breaks on a high-pitched twinge. He clears his throat. “Um,” he says. He runs his fingers through his hair, mussing it even more. He can’t seem to bring himself to meet your gaze, eyes darting all over the corridor but never you.

You curl your fingers, nails pressing hard into your palm.

“Look,” he says, clearing his throat again. “We need to talk about—”

You don’t want to hear it. You can’t hear it. You are hurt and embarrassed and devastated. Why couldn’t he just tell you he wanted to pursue a werewolf? It makes sense, biologically, and you can hardly fault him for the desire. Honesty would have hurt but not like this. Now you have to suffer the rejection of the only man you ever truly loved and suffer the fact you were not even worth a conversation.

It is too late to talk.

“It’s fine, Felix,” you say. All your messy, menial scripts crumble in your mind. Emotion takes over, bitterness and pain and irritation. “I brought you your things,” you say, pointing to the box. His eyes dart there for the first time, brow furrowing. “If I find anymore, I’ll give them to Chan. He’ll pass them along.”

“Um, what?” He looks from the box to you.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you say, blinking back tears. Your feelings come out in fragments, word after word with little coherency. “After everything I went through last year – I just – this is too much. The werewolf thing – I just – I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t have you in my life like this. Thank you for your friendship. The memories will always be important to me. But it’s for the best we don’t see each other again.”

You had not planned on so much finality, but that was before. Now you need to leave. If you stay here another second, you are going to fall apart.

“Good luck with everything,” you say.

You turn to leave but he says your name. You suck in a breath, wait a beat, and slowly turn back around.

Felix walks partway down the hallway, his whole face screwed up with pain and confusion. His mouth is moving but no words are coming out. Finally he closes his eyes and shakes his head, slamming a hand into his hair.

“Hold on,” he says. “Hold on, I – what are you talking about? You – you don’t want to be friends? How can – You can’t—” That deep voice breaks again, fracturing with emotion.

A part of you knows that you are being too harsh, letting your own emotions dominate your words. Another part of you is too heartbroken to care.

“It’s for the best,” you say weakly, your voice barely more than a breath of a sound. “Really.”

“For the best?” he asks, voice pitching up again. He has not looked at you so intensely for so long. “How can you say that to me?”

Much to your horror, he starts crying first. His tears seem to catch him by surprise too, his expression puckering as he tries to stop it. A hand flies up, covering his eyes. He shakes his head rapidly.

“Felix,” you whisper.

“For the best?” he repeats. He drops his hand and takes a shuddering breath.

You avert your gaze. You can’t stand to look at his eyes so full of tears, his face so strained with hurt.

“Did something happen?” he asks, taking a few more steps towards you. “Was it – was it me? You said – the werewolf thing – Did I do something? Please, please tell me.”

He doesn’t even realize how much he has withdrawn from you. He is bad at controlling his face, as evidenced now, so he probably has no idea how blatant his repulsion has been. Maybe he thought he was being subtle. Maybe he thought you wouldn’t care, that you were just his friend and you would be content to relegate yourself to the sidelines of his life. Maybe that is all your fault after all.

If you were a better friend, you would have coped with his new feelings. You would have been happy for him. If you were a better friend, maybe he would have told you sooner.

“You deserve a better friend than me,” you say.

He looks at you like you are completely crazy, his head tilted, his eyes narrowing.

“What?” he asks. “Where is this coming from? Please, I don’t understand. You can’t be saying what I think you’re saying.”

“I already told you,” you say, as calmly as you can. “I just can’t do this anymore. Our lives are heading in different directions and I – I – I just need to go. I want to go. Please.”

You have known Felix all your life. You were children together, hapless youths on a playground that immediately loved each other with the easy, thoughtless affection of childhood.

He reminds you of that child now, innocently standing in the corridor with his arms hanging limp at his sides and so much bewilderment on his freckled face.

“You want to go?” he repeats, voice low, soft.

You nod. After a second, he nods back, bottom lip still quivering. A fresh stream of tears spill over his eyes. He hiccups on a sob, turning away and covering his face.

“Fine,” he says, speaking between shaky breaths. “Go. I can’t – I can’t keep you here if you want to go.”

“Thank you,” you say softly. The elevator is still waiting when you press the call button. You step onto it and say, “Good bye, Felix.”

As the doors close, you hear another choking sob. You name is lost in the sound.

The door closes.

The regret is instantaneous. You stare at your phone for hours and even debate returning to his apartment, but in the end you do nothing.

You replay every moment, from seeing him with the other werewolf to his confusion and your departure. It was a long, long walk home, tears streaming down your face as your mind went back even further, remembering every moment of your friendship.

How could this have happened? You and Felix have always been open with each other. He was the first person you confided in about your bad relationship and he immediately did everything to save you from it. But when it was the other way around, when the werewolf gene activated, he turned away from your friendship. You poured your heart out to him, trusting he would catch it and keep it safe, but he did not feel the same way.

Secrets, confusion, heartbreak. It plays on a loop in your mind.

It is the middle of the night when you get a text. He has not messaged in a while, not in a substantial way. If you scroll back on your phone, you can see the disintegration of communication, the days when he would send message after message with any and every thought slowly petering down to brief replies and a vague acknowledgement at the very best.

This message is more. You can hear his voice when you read it, can picture those dark eyes.

Tell me this isn’t real. Please.

You feel sick. You are angry at him for being the one to withdraw only to suddenly turn on his heel. You are angry at yourself for reacting so drastically and immaturely. Mostly, you are just sad.

If I did something, I’m sorry, he writes. I’ll never stop being sorry. I’ll fix it. I’ll keep my distance. Just don’t say I can never see you again.

You type a reply, then delete it, then repeat.

You say nothing. Every time you try, you see him and her in that corridor, you see him flinching from your touch, you see him recoiling at your scent. It twists and tangles with memories of warm nights and tender smiles. You wipe your tears and remember when he did it for you, his thumb so gently sweeping your cheek. He used to touch you like you were precious to him. Now he flinches from your touch.

He does not text the next day, or the day after, or the day after that. You are not sure if it is better or worse.

After about a week, he messages again, stating, I miss you.

You are at your work desk but he immediately seizes your full attention, as he always has.

You stare at your phone. You take a breath. You have had a few days to decompress, to let the wound bleed. It is still sore to the touch.

You write, I miss you too.

You do not check your phone for a while, listening to the relentless buzz as he sends eager message after eager message. It feels like the old days for a minute, but slows to a stop when you do not reply. You read them back later, his pleading, his sweetness. It makes you spiral, on the one hand wanting to take it all back, but on the other hand picturing his flinch, his disgust, knowing it is only a matter of time before your heart breaks again.

You do not reply. He takes the hint and gives you a few more days, then he messages, I still have your stuff in my place too, you know?

I know, is all you say. I have more of your stuff too.

As predicted, you have been finding his things all over the apartment. Even things which are technically yours are still stamped with his memory. He helped you move into this place after the break-up. He took you shopping and paid for so many things to get you back on your feet. Everything from blankets to cushions to plates make you think of him. This was just a room before he made it a home. Without him, it is just a room again.

There are a couple days of silence, then some of his packmates start messaging you. You don’t think he is sending them after you, as Felix would never manipulate or coerce you like that. They reach out of their own volition, curious because they have not seen you in a while. But it is all so overwhelming, so you throw your phone under a pillow and go for a walk.

That is when you run into Changbin again. His smile is charming as ever when he strikes up a friendly conversation.

“I was wondering,” he says, scratching the back of his neck, not-so-inadvertently flexing his big bicep when he does, “I was going to ask a couple weeks ago, when I helped you with that box – ah, I was kicking myself after because I didn’t see you for a while. But – I thought we had a nice conversation. Maybe you and me could do something.”

“Do something,” you repeat. It sounds like he is asking you out which is a little perplexing, because he is a werewolf and you are a human. Surely nothing serious can come of it. You used to think it was possible, as there are plenty of movies and romance novels to prove it, but your personal experience has led you to other conclusions.

“A date,” he clarifies, grinning that handsome smile. “You and me. My treat. No pressure. I just think you’re clever and, ah, very beautiful, and I want to know you better.”

A polite rejection is on the tip of your tongue. You are not in any emotional state to try dating someone right now. But you think of Felix and that woman in the corridor, and you think of your phone buzzing, and you think of another long, lonely night stewing in it all.

Changbin must be looking for something casual anyway. A werewolf would not truly settle down with a human. Maybe this is a good opportunity to put yourself out there.

“Sure,” you say. “I’d like that.”

Changbin takes you out a few days later. You actually do enjoy yourself. He is very charming and it is easy to talk to him, plus the date itself is very fun. He takes you out for food then to an arcade, flopping at every game in a hilarious spectacle.

“I’m a werewolf,” he complains later. “I’m strong! Those games were rigged.”

You giggle, wrapping yourself up in the jacket he leant you. You are walking back to the apartment building, the warm evening giving way to a cool night as you make the trek. It is enjoyable until you reach the building, at which point you start to panic. Does he expect to be invited into your apartment? Does he expect… more? The thought leaves you dizzy and not in a good way. Changbin is so very handsome and so very likable. Going out with him showed you that you can enjoy yourself without the crutch of a lifelong friendship.

You don’t need Felix.

But you still want him.

You try to go back and find the moment it all went wrong, try to picture a different ending, but it feels impossible. A foolish fantasy from a girl still clinging to the dying dredges of hope and affection. There is a wonderful, handsome man at your side, a werewolf at that, and your mind is somewhere else.

Changbin remarks on it, politely but nonetheless curiously. He gives you a penetrating look, like he knows something is wrong and there is no use lying.

You sigh.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I just… I recently broke-up with a friend.”

“With a friend?” he asks, eyebrows jumping with surprise. “What kind of friend?”

“A close one, very close,” you say. “We’ve known each other forever, you see. He’s the most wonderful person I have ever known. He’s good to everyone, open-hearted, kind, warm. I have truly never known a better man. He just makes every room a little brighter when he’s in it. You would like him, I think. Everyone does. He’s a werewolf but the transformation only happened for the first time this year. Since then…” You sniffle. “Things have been different. Werewolves are biologically wired to be with other werewolves and form packs… I think my human status just started affecting him negatively.”

“Biology,” Changbin says like it is a foreign word. He looks at you with a cocked eyebrow. “It exists, yeah, but werewolves still have hearts, you know? It’s nice finding other werewolves so you aren’t alone, but it isn’t necessary. Love is complicated.”

That does give you pause for a moment. A logical part of you knows it is true, that plenty of werewolves make relationships work with humans, but that is almost harder to accept. If it’s just biological, then it cannot be helped. But if it’s a choice—

“So he isn’t biologically wired to hate me now that he’s a werewolf,” you say miserably. “It’s just something he chose to do.”

“Now, I didn’t say that,” Changbin says. “But, if that is what happened, he’s an idiot. If you were that obviously in love with me, ah, I wouldn’t let you go that easy.”

“I’m not in love with him…” The lie tumbles without an ounce of confidence. Changbin just gives you an amused look. Embarrassed, you drop your gaze. “It doesn’t matter,” you say. “He doesn’t feel the same way. Believe me, I know how he’s been looking at me, or how he won’t. That’s why I walked away. I was holding onto a friendship that once was and a fantasy that will never be. It’s time to be reasonable.”

“Ah, I don’t think love is very reasonable,” he says. “But you should stay true to yourself and do what’s right. And, in the mean time, if you need a friend…”

You exchange smiles. A weight lifts off your shoulder as Changbin changes the subject to friendship between you.

“I would like a friend,” you say. “Thank you, Changbin.”

“Ah, it’s been fun. But give me back my jacket,” he teases. “Since we’re friends I don’t need to impress you. I’m cold.”

“I thought werewolves run hot,” you say, laughing. You shrug off the coat and hand it to him.

“Eh, a little bit, maybe more than humans. But the blood really only gets hot during a rut cycle,” he says.

It is a casual statement. He is too preoccupied with zipping up his jacket to notice you get a little flustered.

You know a bit about ruts, namely that werewolves have a cycle which span a few days every month. It’s a fertility and reproduction thing, pushing developed werewolves to find mates and, well, mate them. It is a common part of the werewolf lifestyle so it is fair for Changbin to so casually mention it.

It is not because of Changbin that you feel flustered. You are thinking about Felix that night at the club, how burning hot he was compared to everyone else. Now that you think of it, not even Chan felt so hot when he grabbed your wrist, nor Seungmin beside you in the car. Felix, though, was radiating heat. Was he starting a rut cycle? Perhaps that explains why he was so hot and sweaty the next day during your confrontation.

You remember the other werewolf in the corridor. Your heart sinks again. Was she helping him through his rut? Then again, she left the second you arrived. Why were they even in the hallway? If she was spending his rut with him, surely they would have been inside together, not yapping in the hallway...

“You look worried,” Changbin says.

You are gnawing your bottom lip, eyes darting around as you contemplate that day. At his words, you blink to attention, doing your best to shake the anxiety.

“It’s nothing,” you say. “I’m just confused about so many things right now.”

“You know, if this guy really is so great and wonderful – and I think he is, if someone like you loves him so much – then he will probably be happy to answer your questions so you don’t feel so confused.”

“Ugh.” You slap a hand over your eyes and shake your head. “Why do you have to be so decent and mentally competent and right?”

“Jutdae,” he says, then flexes an arm and squeezes a bicep through the jacket. “And lots of protein.”

You laugh again. With a few more words of thanks and a promise to catch up again soon, you give him one final good night hug. He says he might meet up with some friends so you part ways, Changbin strolling while you head inside.

You look at your phone, considering his words as you ride the elevator to your floor. Changbin is right. Giving Felix the silent treatment is not helping you or him. Even though the conversation will probably be uncomfortable in so many ways, you should talk to him. It might not repair anything, but at least you will have closure. That wound cannot heal so long as it is still bleeding and festering.

You are drafting a text message in your head when you step off the elevator.

Then you lift your eyes and stumble to a stop.

Felix is sitting outside your apartment door. He is wearing jeans and a blue flannel, a denim jacket on top of that. A habitual joke is on the tip of your tongue, seeing him so decked out in his favourite colour. It disappears at the morose look on his face.

His long blonde hair is down around his shoulders, neglected black roots peeking at the crown of his head. He looks a little wan and very tired, his head lolled to the side.

He scents you before he sees you, eyes fluttering closed for a second, then he looks at you.

He really looks at you.

Felix always has such a softness in his gaze, but this look is searing. It moves through you, a forceful heat twining its way around your insides. It holds you in captivated thrall as he stands, one black boot thumping against the ground with the force of his push as he straightens himself out.

That piercing looks crinkles as more of your scent registers to him. His face twists with revulsion, except it is even more severe than usual. It is so disturbed that it makes you think his past expressions were not disgust at all, because this face is so terrorized by whatever he smells.

“Where were you?” he asks.

You have been staring at each other in silence for so long that his voice reverberates loudly in the corridor. It makes you jump as the smoothness of his deep voice pours into you. It’s only been a few weeks since you last heard him speak, but somehow you forgot how profoundly that voice could affect you, especially when he drops it so deliberately.

“Out,” you say. You are so flustered that your body goes into defense mode, your tone sharp when you say, “I don’t need your permission for that.”

That softens the slash of his gaze. He shakes his head.

“No,” he says softly. “Of course not. I’m sorry.”

His apology is so sincere, eyes searching yours for something beyond the surface. You feel like he is speaking to you without words, somehow conveying a lifetime of love in the way he looks at you, saying, it’s me.

You soften too, in every way, your voice and your posture, your heart and everything inside you. So soft and malleable, all that heat expanding in every direction until you can imagine yourself radiating it like he did. It feels so inappropriate to be aroused when there is so much drama between you, when a serious conversation needs to be had. But he is looking at you so intensely, colours of emotions playing across his face. A shaking breath draws your gaze to his lips.

He says your name. It feels like a touch. You feel dizzy again, this time in a very good way, despite yourself.

You hear his sharp intake of breath as you step a little closer. Your scent is affecting him. It makes him do a double-take, looking at you up and down without any subtlety. It is blatant, searching. For lack of a better word, predatory, a wolf on the prowl, scenting something it wants, maybe needs. Your skirt is long, sweeping past your knees, but you feel like he can see past it somehow.

His eyes, low on your body, flick up to your face. Your knees knock. That hungry look twists into something repulsed again, his brow furrowing. It darkens his whole face.

Of course. He is disgusted with you and your boring human scent and he always has been. You cannot give into hopeful delusions.

“What are you doing here?” you ask in your most casual tone, striding up to him like you are unaffected by his presence.

He steps to the side, staring while you fumble around in your purse for your keys.

“I wanted to talk,” he says.

You stare into your bag, rifling through mint wrappers and lipsticks and bus tickets. You can feel his eyes, practically burning a hole in the side of your head. You want to be chill, want to laugh and tell him he’s acting weird, to knock it off. You want to be indifferent, remind him there is a distance between you now and his staring is not appropriate.

Then he puts a hand on the door, near your head. He moves around you, undeniably scenting you as he goes. His other hand comes around the other side, caging you between him and the door. Your back is to him but you can still feel his gaze, shivering when he breathes you in.

You swallow, cringing at the wave of arousal that moves through you when his nose brushes the back of your neck.

Werewolf instincts, you remind yourself, trying to find the resolve to snap him out of it, except that’s not what you want. You want him to press right against you and put his mouth on your neck, to taste everything he is scenting.

Until you remember he hates the scent. So much so, he makes a guttural noise that sounds like a growl, rumbling at the base of his throat.

You expect him to flinch and move away. You imagine him shaking his head as he abandons his efforts to reconcile because you’re just not worth it.

You are not expecting him to say, “Why do you smell like another werewolf?”

“What?” you say. “I – I don’t—”

“Yes, you do,” he says, taking another deep breath. “It’s all over you. Who is he?”

Oh, you have been wearing Changbin’s jacket for the last half-hour. You did not notice any smell but you are not a werewolf. To Felix, you must be utterly smothered in it. You wonder if it smells like a sex pheromone, given Changbin was taking you on a date, maybe permeating a desire your human senses did not notice.

Whatever it is, it has Felix riled in a way you have never seen before. He has been very careful to hold himself in check around you. The worst of his werewolf symptoms have been hidden from the start. It is part of why you are so hurt, that he would not trust you with it.

Now it overrides his good sense. His nose swipes the back of your neck again, his fingers curling against the door where his hands sit.

“He’s just a friend,” you say.

“A friend,” he repeats. “He doesn’t smell like a friend.”

“Well, he is,” you say. All your desire, heartbreak, and desperation swell inside you, bursting like a firework, hot and crackling. With a pounding heart, you turn around to face him, intent on confrontation when you snap, “Why would that even matter to you?”

You look into his eyes. He is so close, arms around you, that woodsy scent enveloping you. It feels like coming home, falling into his gaze, letting the heat wash over you as he stares back. There is something animalistic about his intensity, a predator with its hackles raised, sights set and hunger striking.

“Felix,” you whisper, voice heavy with a thousand questions that never manifest.

One hand leaves the door. He grabs the back of your neck, not roughly, not cruelly, but with an undoubted and irrevocable command. It makes another firework burst inside you. You gasp.

That gasp is interrupted when he dives in without any hesitation, his mouth thoroughly claiming yours in a hot, desperate kiss.

Whenever you dared to fantasize a kiss with Felix, it was always soft, a little brief, giving it time to grow. You never imagined so much heat overwhelming you all at once, that his mouth would be so ravishing. You didn’t even know a kiss could move through your whole body, that when he puts his tongue in your mouth it would feel like he is already fucking you, your body throbbing with want.

It is not just werewolf instinct because you react too. You drop your purse on the floor and put your hands on him, one on his chest and the other his neck, clinging to him like he clings to you. He takes it as invitation, his other hand leaving the door to hold your waist. His grip is powerful, but despite the supernatural strength it does not hurt. No, Felix would never hurt you. Oh, it was so stupid to think he ever would.

He makes a sound that has you whimpering in turn, the low grunt pressing at your most vulnerable places. The kiss is open-mouthed, hot and wet and messy.

He walks you back that final step, pressing you to the door. He cups the back of your head so you don’t hit it.

You grab the collar of his denim jacket and yank on it, pulling him even closer. You are completely delirious with him. Everything that has happened and everything that will happen is wholly unimportant as he slots his whole body along yours.

His leg pushes between your thighs, his hips pinning you to the door. The thought would have you terrified a year ago, but now it just feels right. Of course it feels right, because this is Felix, who has seen you at your most vulnerable and healed you, who has caught you every time you fall. He will always fix what hurts. He will always take care of you.

Your body knows it, begging for him, hips rearing towards him. It presses his thigh against the juncture between your legs, makes it so your flimsy skirt doesn’t matter at all. You are not thinking when you start to rock against him.

You forgot your body could feel so much pleasure.

“Oh, fuck—” he says, his already deep voice somehow even lower as he curses.

You squeak as he holds you against the door, deliberately rocking his thigh between yours with more pressure and speed than you could manage. It makes a torrent of mortifying sounds spill past your lips, but he gathers them all up lovingly, tastes them on his tongue as he chases down your gasping breath. Every little mewl, every breath, every squeaking hiccup is swallowed up by him.

“Come for me, please,” he whispers, roughly. It sounds like begging despite how much physical power he has over you. It would scare if it was someone else, but that supernatural strength doesn’t matter because it bends to you, waiting for your permission.

You just barely remember you are in the corridor. You hope no one chooses now to step out of their apartment. You wonder if the other werewolves on the floor can scent whatever pheromones Felix must be giving off.

It doesn’t matter. You’re hurtling towards an orgasm and you can’t stop it. You’re going to come on him, just like this, fully clothed but so wet that you can feel it gushing as he grinds his thigh against you.

You grab onto his belt, feeling the curve of his bulge just below your palm. It makes his breath stutter and it makes you surrender. Your body seizes and your pussy throbs as you come, a strangled cry in your throat while rocking desperately against him.

It settles slowly, the world coming back in increments. You are breathing hard, clinging to each other, bodies still pressed so tightly together. You can feel his heart beating hard and fast. It keeps rhythm with the lingering thrum below.

So much for conversation. Grinding all over Felix in a semi-public space was not in the plan at all.

“Oh my god,” you say, voice breaking as you are hit with realization. You push at him and he goes obediently.

“Fuck,” he says, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head. He runs his hands through his hair, shakes out the length of it while breathing erratically.

Your heart is still pounding. You put your hand over your chest like that will calm it down.

Felix looks at you.

You recognize this look.

This look – this is the face you have been mistaking for disgust. Now that you have seen him truly reviled, snarling at Changbin’s scent on your body, you realize it is not disgust, not at all. It’s pain, a wincing, cringing desperation as he fights to keep everything inside him.

It is barely contained right now, his chest still heaving, his fly still bulging, hands shaking at his sides as he stares at you with open need.

“Oh my god,” you say again. You lean against the door for support, closing your eyes to try and make sense of the world. You see the events of the last month play out, the months before that, going back further and further until you shake your head to clear your mind. “I just—” You open your eyes, meet his anxious gaze. “Just give me some time,” you say. “I – I need to think – I’m so—”

“It’s okay,” he says, hands out to placate you, but careful not to touch you. He forces himself to smile despite his own emotional tumult. Sweat breaks out on his hairline. “Take your time, I – I’m sorry, I didn’t come here to—I just wanted to talk—I—”

“I know,” you say. “I know.”

He nods sharply, clearing his throat as he turns awkwardly to the side. He points vaguely behind him, stutters something like, “I’ll go, um, I’ll just—”

He turns on his heel and walks away, taking the corner to the stairwell so fast that you blink and he is gone.

You can hear him bounding down the stairs. You stand there, listening until he is too far to hear.

With every limb shaking, you pick up your purse and finally fish out your keys. You manage to turn the key in the lock and step inside before you crumple to your knees.

This time your thoughts are a very different whirlwind, just as confused and just as emotional, but so conquered by sensation that you find yourself just sitting there, touching your lips, thinking of him.

There is a lot to think about.

You realize you have been wrong about so many things. You and Felix should have spoken a long time ago. You have both been skirting each other, tentatively regarding the other, worried you might hurt them. It resulted in you both getting hurt anyway.

You are so, so scared of making that hurt worse. It makes you hesitate.

A day goes by. Felix respects your space. On the second day, when you contemplate reaching out for a conversation – a real conversation – your phone buzzes.

You are surprised to see that it is Bang Chan.

Hey, he writes. I need to talk to you right now. It’s about Felix.

Your heart-rate shoots through the roof, terror obliterating every other emotion.

Is he okay? you write. What happened??

Look, I’m just gonna say it, Chan writes. Felix is in rut. You know what that is?

Yes, you say.

At first, you are relieved he is not hurt and it is something so mundane. Then you are flustered as you recall the other night. You remember the heat between you, the way you came on his body and the way he begged for it. Even now, you are more aroused than embarrassed, shivering as you remember the way he looked at you.

Right, Chan says. Look I promise I’m not asking you to sleep with him or something. I wouldn’t do that. You have no responsibility for anything. But you also gotta know that dumb kid is in love with you, right? Like… insane in love. Like… won’t let anyone else see him or help him even though he’s a new werewolf, hasn’t had that many ruts, and it hasn’t even been a whole month since the last one.

You watch as each text appears, your adrenaline building with every word. The phone shakes in your tight grip.

Didn’t someone help him with his last rut? You ask. I saw her at his apartment.

What??? Chan answers quickly. No. I sent her over to see if he needed anything, because he kept telling me to fuck off because I was telling him to call you. I’m telling him again but he still won’t listen. You know he thinks he’s a monster right?

You are still reeling from the revelation that he and the girl were not an item at all, that they were truly just having a conversation. He was flushed and sweaty because he was in rut, not because he spent all morning with her. You were the one racing to conclusions, not even giving him a chance to explain. You remember him stepping towards you, asking to speak, but you cut him off before he could. You assumed he just wanted to reject you.

Chan says Felix is in love you. Is it possible that after a conversation with another wolf, he was gathering the courage to tell you, only for you to say you never wanted to see him again?

Now you read the last message and your heart sinks, a painfully heavy weight in your gut.

A monster? you write. What do you mean?

That doesn’t even make sense. Felix is the kindest, most loving man you know. Assuming werewolves are monstrous is such a medieval thought that it never occurred to you for a second that he would feel that way.

Yeah, Chan says. Look, he never told me the details because he said it wasn’t his story to tell, but he told me that you went through something really hard and that was why he didn’t want to stress you out with the werewolf thing. It can be pretty intense, especially at the start, and especially when you’re already an adult. He spent his whole life thinking he was one thing only for everything to change really quickly. He was really scared of coming on too strong and losing you because of it.

You made his worst fears come true, you realize, numb as you stare at the screen.

You know Felix, Chan writes, He’d rather just suffer alone than have someone else feel it too. I told him to trust you more, that you would want to help, but there’s no getting through to him when he’s like that. I love the guy but he can be kinda stubborn.

You both have a stubborn streak. The last month of drama attests to that.

What do you want me to do? you ask. You have more answers but you feel just as lost as before, maybe even more.

Can you just talk to him please? Chan says. He holed himself up in his apartment and he won’t let anyone in. He stopped answering my messages too. Ruts are a Molotov cocktail of hormones. They’re intense even if you’re experienced and he isn’t. I just don’t want him to get hurt and not do anything about it because he doesn’t want to bother anyone.

You remember Felix in that corridor, arms hanging limp at his sides, looking at you with so much hurt and sorrow. Despite that, he didn’t pressure you to stay. He listened. He let you go because he thought you wanted that. He stood by himself in that corridor, crying over a box of his things that he thought had a home with you.

Tears blur your vision. You have to rub your eyes before answering Chan.

I’ll go to him, you write. I don’t want him hurt either.

I know you don’t, Chan says. You have a spare key to his place?

Yes.

Good, Chan says. He’s not answering his door so you’re gonna need it. Give the guy a smack for me, hey?

His joke makes you laugh, though it is strained. You give yourself a second to compose yourself then you are on your feet. You are in a loose house dress and tights, face bare and hair undone, but you do not waste another second. You know you can be yourself around Felix no matter what. You wish he understood the feeling was reciprocated.

This time, instead of running away, you run to him. This time, you will make him understand.

The two city blocks pass in a blur. You have never moved so fast in all your life, bumping into slow stragglers as you barrel down the street.

By the time you step off the elevator on his floor, you are warm and out of breath. You wipe a little perspiration off your forehead as you approach.

You were so frantic in your determination to arrive, there was no time for nerves to materialize. They strike all at once, twisting anxiously as you knock. You wait a minute but he doesn’t answer, just like Chan predicted.

You take a steadying breath and put the key in the lock. Hand over your heart, you push open the door and step into the apartment.

It does not look any different from the last time you were here. Even your slippers are still by the door. You disregard them now, stepping out of your shoes and venturing forward with a nervous little patter.

If you were a werewolf, maybe you would have scented a change in the air, but it smells and feels familiar. The apartment is very still, maybe a little warmer than usual, sunlight streaming through the windows.

You finally hear a sound. You leave the small foyer and make a very clumsy entrance into the room.

You can hardly blame yourself for stumbling. Felix is sitting on the couch in nothing but a pair of jeans. It looks like the same blue jeans from the other night. Yes, in fact, you are sure they are because you can see the faintest streak on his thigh. You were embarrassed to find you were so wet that it came through your panties and skirt. You wondered if it got on him.

You certainly have an answer now.

Felix is touching himself. He is slouched back on the couch, his bare chest damp with sweat, his knees spread apart. His jeans are pulled open and it looks roughly torn, the zipper snapped off the fly. His hand is wrapped around his cock. One of your t-shirts is clutched tightly in the other hand. He is holding it against his face, covering his eyes, mouth, and nose. He is clearly chasing the scent, knuckles whitening with how tightly he grips it.

His abdomen clenches as he approaches a climax. You watch as he quickly wraps the t-shirt around his cock, fucking the material. His eyes are closed, head thrown back.

You snap to the realization that he has no idea you’re here, so overwhelmed with your scent from the shirt.

You quickly cover your eyes with both hands and yelp his name.

His reply is a startled yelp as well. You peek at him through your fingers, watching as he frantically stuffs the t-shirt between the couch cushions. He tries to stand at the same time, fighting to close his pants over an uncooperative erection that does not seem to be going down.

“Fuck, sorry, I – hold on, fuck – I can explain—” he stammers.

“Um, me too,” you say.

He can’t get his pants closed but he gets himself tucked back inside. He keeps a grip on the fly with one hand, the other running through his long hair.

Then he is standing there, flushed and out of breath. You slowly lower your fingers from your face.

There is a moment of silence, both of you startled. After a bit of staring, he cracks a nervous smile. You tentatively return it.

His brow smooths out, his dimple poking into his cheek. He chuckles first, then you laugh, then you are laughing together. It feels good, letting out all the ridiculous tension.

“Why, uhh, why are you here?” he finally asks.

“Um, Chan texted,” you say.

“Oh, for the love of—” He cuts off his own tirade, shaking his head and exhaling heavily.

You twist your hands together, fingers budging in a nervous fidget.

“Um, he told me… he told me…” You forget your precise words because Felix meets your eyes, holding your gaze in his. You lose yourself in the depth of his dark eyes. You think your heart is beating loud enough to hear.

You look away, overwhelmed by the intensity of his stare. Your eyes stray to the couch, to your t-shirt poking out between the cushions. You are startled by a jolt between your legs, like a lightning bolt of arousal, the previous scene suddenly resonating with clarity.

“I—” You almost choke on your words, so much nervousness, so much fear, so much need in your voice. You meet his searching eyes, stepping forward as if compelled by them. “I thought my scent disgusted you.”

He blinks back at you, your words taking a moment to settle. Then he furrows his brow and tilts his head. A bit of hair falls forward and he tucks it back.

“Uhhhh, what?” he asks. “Dis—disgusted me? You thought—” He looks back at the couch too. He is very flushed, his rut no doubt keeping him suspended on a perpetual edge, and his ears darken with a richer tinge of red. “Um. No.” He laughs at the ridiculousness, looking at you with wide, blinking eyes. “I, uh, I definitely don’t – I think you – I mean—”

“Um, yes,” you say, clasping your hands together again. You rock a little on the balls of your feet. “Yes. I can see that, um, I think you’re not disgusted.”

“No,” it comes out on a breath. His eyes drop from your face down your body. You look so simple, but he looks at you like no one has ever been more beautiful. “No, I’m not disgusted. Why did you think that?”

“You, um, you make faces sometimes,” you say. It sounds so petty and silly to say out loud, but it’s time to get it all out there. “And you’ve been so distant, Felix. I thought that maybe, now that you’re a werewolf, you didn’t want anything more to do with me.”

His face scrunches up with bewilderment.

“Nothing – nothing to do with you?” he asks, voice breaking where it pitches up. It would usually make you laugh, but now is not the time as you stare back, all your insecurities and vulnerabilities on display. He does not laugh at them either, taking a small step towards you with a tender look on his face. “I could never feel that way,” he says. “You’re my whole world. I – I’ve told you that. You’re my – you’re my person.”

“Chan said you felt like a monster,” you say softly. “I wish you would have told me how you felt. I could have told you that you aren’t a monster, not at all. You’re my person too, you know.”

He exhales, shoulders deflating. He rubs the bridge of his nose, thinking of something to say. Eventually he shakes his head and drops his hand.

“I didn’t want to be a burden,” he says. “You’ve been through so much. I couldn’t – I couldn’t ask you to take care of me too.”

“Felix,” you say, throat cloying with emotion. You take a step closer as well. “Felix, you’re not a burden. I wanted so badly to take care of you. I – I love you.”

The word love resonates like thunder. It pierces the air, leaves a ringing aftermath.

“You – you love me,” Felix says, like the words are incomprehensible. “As a – as a friend – or?” He tries to look disinterested but completely fails, staring at you with all that intensity again.

You combat the instinct to make yourself small, to hide your vulnerabilities, to retreat into denial and just smile prettily. You hold his gaze. When you smile, it is honest and affectionate.

“I love you, Felix,” you say. “As more than a friend. As everything.”

“Oh,” he says. His hand goes back into his hair, untucking it from behind his ear just to tuck it back again. His eyes dart everywhere like he is replaying the scene and scanning it for answers. He blinks at you. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you say, with a small laugh.

“But you – you never wanted to see me again,” he says, then lifts his brows, expression all at once understanding. “Because you thought I didn’t want you. Oh my god. I’m such an idiot.”

“I’m not the brightest either,” you tease.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, closing the distance yet again with another step. He forgets the state of his clothes and lets go of his pants, too wrapped up in his words to notice the startled drop of your eyes. Not much is exposed, just the shape of his hips and a stubborn bulge, but it still leaves you sweating.

“Look,” he says. “I – I can’t just say I love you.” Before your heart can sink, he continues frantically, “Because it’s not enough. I do, I do love you. The werewolf gene activated for you. The doctors asked if I had been in any dangerous situations that might have triggered it and I said no. They – they said it sometimes activates in peril, when you feel the need to protect yourself. That’s what happened to me. Except it wasn’t because I wanted to protect myself. I wanted to protect you.”

“Me?” you say in a small voice, like you can hardly believe it.

“Yes,” he says, smiling, both hands moving as he talks. “I felt so helpless, watching the way you were hurting. I wanted to protect you. I never wanted to see you suffering again. I tried to be calm around you but pushing it down just made the feeling more desperate. My wolf, it’s like my heart. It’s just an animal, you know? And it only understands loyalty and love. And the first time I changed, I didn’t think like a person, no, but I thought of you all the same. They could barely keep me contained in that hospital. I just wanted to run to you. I wanted to protect you. I wanted to keep you safe. Staying away from you… it’s been killing me.”

“Me too,” you say, so filled to brim with emotion you think you might burst. “Oh, Felix, me too.”

A laugh spills out of him, more of a release than humour. You take another step towards each other, this time close enough to clasp hands between you.

“I wish you would have told me,” you say. “But it’s my fault too. I know I’m still recovering in some ways. I’m quick to think little of myself. But I shouldn’t put you in the role of the mean voices in my head. I’m sorry too. So, so sorry.”

“How could you think I’d ever be disgusted with you?” he asks in a low voice.

When he cups your cheek, a shiver moves down your spine. You straighten, leaning into his touch, looking at him with wanting eyes. He swallows hard, staring back.

“It was silly,” you say. “I even thought you were seeing someone else. That werewolf lady in your pack. I thought maybe you wanted a werewolf mate and I wouldn’t be enough.”

“That’s crazy,” he says. “You’re my everything.”

“And you’re mine,” you say.

You touch his arm, just the lightest caress of your fingertips. His skin is so hot it makes you gasp. Your cool fingers must be a balm because his eyes close and a little sigh parts his lips.

“Uh,” he breathes, eyes still closed. “Sorry for what you, uh, saw, coming in— I promise I don’t usually – ruts are just—”

You step a little closer. You can feel his breath on your cheek when he breathes in and out.

His hands drop to his sides as you lean in and kiss his neck. It is just a chaste touch but it makes his eyes fly open. He looks at you and you swear his eyes have never been so dark.

“You want me,” he says. When you nod, he releases another deep breath, a massive exhale of relief. “Ruts are… intense,” he says.

“Mm,” is your gentle reply. Your eyes run down his bare skin, fingers itching to touch. You meet his gaze. “But it’s you, right?”

Some romances depict ruts as an out of control haze. Though Felix is certainly more intense, it is your best friend’s familiar eyes locked on yours. You realize it actually makes him the vulnerable one, all his desires so blatant, his needs on the surface, unable to hide them for a second. You understand why he held back, especially while you were in recovery. There is so much of him.

But that is what you love. You can never have enough.

“Yes,” he says.

His deep voice is so rough that it makes you whimper. His hand jumps at the sound, settles on the back of your neck like it did yesterday. Anticipation tingles from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes, every inch of your body aware of him, desperate for him.

“Yes,” he says again, staring at your mouth. “Yes, it’s me.”

Your breath catches when he squeezes your nape. In the back of your mind, you recall all those little courtship rituals of werewolves, the instincts that manifest between them and their mate. A gentle squeeze of the nape is a request for your submission, for you to put your trust in his strength and his affection.

You do, utterly. You rest your hands on his waist, your cool palms against his hot skin, making his eyes flash with hunger.

“What are you waiting for?” you ask, his mouth so close, kissing a tantalizing promise.

He smiles that real smile, eyes crinkling sweetly, sunshine radiating with all that heat.

“I told you, ruts can be intense,” he says. “I’m waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you.”

“You have it,” you say. Your eyes drop to his chest and you run your hand from his collarbone all the way down to his abdomen, watching the muscles tense under the caress of your fingers.

You smile at him, swiping at his hot skin with your fingertips as you step back. He lets you go, hands dropping to his sides. He moves when you do, like his whole body is tethered to yours, magnetized to your core. Each step you take, he follows with a fixated prowl.

“Do whatever you want with me,” you say, peeling down a strap of your dress. “I’m yours.”

His steps gain speed, his smile brightening. In a matter of seconds, he is chasing you into his bedroom, laughing behind your trail of giggles as you scamper ahead of him.

He catches you around the waist inside the bedroom, pulling your backside into his front. The straps of your dress are both lowered and you hold it to your chest with your hand, heart pounding from excitement and the little chase.

You make a sweet sound when his nose swipes your neck. You tip your head, offering more skin. It is a good thing his grip is so strong, because you tremble when he exhales, breath caressing your skin. He gathers your dress in his hands, plucking the fabric out of your grip. He pushes it down your body and it puddles on the floor.

“Felix,” you say on a sigh when he kisses the back of your neck while working his fingers under your bra. You help remove it, dropping it onto the floor. You rock back against him when he touches you. He uses both hands to cup your breasts and squeeze.

“Can’t believe you thought I was disgusted,” he says. “Like I didn’t spend my whole last rut in here thinking about you.”

“Y-you did?” you ask, with a little whimper, because his open jeans are not doing much to shield him and you can feel how hard he is against you.

“Yes,” he says, a hand coming up to circle your throat, gripping it possessively as he puts his teeth in your neck. It makes you jump in his arms, body shaking.

He holds you tight against him, the denim of his pants rough through the thin fabric of your tights.

“I’m sorry for all that,” you rasp. “I must have made it so hard for you.”

“Mm,” he says, grinning against your neck. “You made it very hard.”

“Pfft.” You slap a hand over your mouth when laughing. “That was a terrible joke.”

“Mm. True though.”

You squeak when he nudges you forward, so close to the bed that you stumble right onto it. He climbs up behind you, grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your back.

“At first, I was just sad,” he says.

He leans back to grab something off his bedside table. You admire the length of his body as he does, the low-slung jeans, the sheen of sweat across his chest, and his subtle, slender musculature.

You meet his gaze when he comes back. He is kneeling over you, a cocky grin on his face. He gathers his hair and ties it with the band he just grabbed.

“Then I really thought about it,” he says. “Mm, yeah, thought about hunting you down.” He straddles your thigh, his hands planting on either side of your head. “I’d find you and I’d remind where you belong.” He leans down, kissing along your jaw. “With me. Under me. Moaning my name. Forgetting about everything else.”

“Did you—” You start but gasp, his mouth on your throat, biting, sucking, licking. You arch your back, leaning into his mouth as he works his way down your body. “Did you… like with my shirt… when I saw you before…”

“What? Did I get off to your scent?” he asks. “Yes.” His hand follows his mouth, fingers curling into the band of your tights. “I told myself I shouldn’t. The last few ruts I managed. It wasn’t fun, mostly too hot, but I got by. But – you weren’t coming back, were you? You left so many pretty things here that made me think of you…”

He abruptly kneels upright. He uses both hands to grab the waistband of your tights.

“Found one of your cardigans,” he says. “Soft, like you. Put it on my pillow and fucked my hand like I wanted to fuck you.”

He rips your tights open with little effort, tearing right down to the thigh.

“Put it on my face,” he says. “Tasted it. Like I wanted to taste you.”

You moan for him, threading your fingers through his hair as he gets between your legs and opens his mouth on your pussy. He licks right through the material of your panties, like he doesn’t care at all, tormenting you with the obstruction until it is soaked through. You say his name over and over, your thighs already shaking just from warming up.

“Mmm.” He pushes himself up again, his mouth wet, tongue sweeping over his lips. He grabs your panties by the waistband and tugs them down.

By now, his jeans have slid down his hips. He is so hard, beading at the tip, as wet for you as you are for him. You watch as he uses your panties to quickly jerk his cock, gathering the wetness at the tip, then tossing them over his shoulder.

He falls back on top of you, face between your legs, licking you with nothing in his way.

“Wanted to find you,” he says between teasing kitten licks, looking up at you, smirking with the flick of his tongue. “Wanted to make you come so hard – mm, fuck you so good…” He slips two fingers inside you. Even though it has been some time, they move with no hindrance, your pussy so wet that he sinks right in.

“Yeah,” he says, momentarily going cross-eyed with his face so close to your pussy, watching his fingers move in and out of you. He grins when you clench around him. “Show you we were meant to be,” he says. “Just like this.” He licks you again, fingers moving so quickly that it sounds as obscenely wet as it feels. “Wolf or not. Knew you were mine. Was gonna make sure you know too.”

“Ohh,” you say, tugging at the blankets beneath you. “Who are you and what have you done with my sunshine Felix?”

He laughs, a low chuckle, the vibrations moving in your pussy.

“Mm, I’m right here, sweetheart,” he says. “Right… here…”

Then his mouth is occupied, little licks replaced with broad strokes of his tongue, then a repeating pattern that has you swelling and gushing on his tongue. You come so hard that it makes you dizzy, head thrown back as you squirt all over his thrusting fingers.

“That’s it,” he says, kissing your wet thighs.

While you are recovering, he grabs you and moves you. He arranges you neatly in the middle of the bed, making sure you are comfortable. Then he lets down his hair and removes his jeans.

“Felix,” you say, though it is generous to describe your voice as anything but a needy whimper.

He runs his hands up and down your trembling thighs, coaxing you open with murmurs of sweet nothings. You let him in, stringing your arms around his neck as he fits his hips between your legs and leans over you. You feel the head of his cock against your pussy, still throbbing with aftershocks. You are clenching around nothing, needing him, so ready you could scream.

You don’t scream, but sigh, like you are relieved when he gets inside you, like this is what you have been missing all along.

He takes his time despite the fever of his rut. Maybe because of it. His senses are so heightened, the pleasure felt so strongly. He groans, eyes closed, putting his face in your neck and breathing deeply as he slowly rocks into you.

“What were you thinking,” he murmurs, lips moving on your throat, “Trying to run away from me?”

“I’m – I’m sorry,” you say, interrupted with a hiccupping little uh-uh when he rolls his hips and you feel him deeper, harder, faster.

“You thought I wanted someone else?” he asks. “Impossible.”

Your eyes are closed, head thrown back. He grabs your chin and pulls your face to him, says, “Look at me. Right now.”

You do, blinking your eyes open. His thumb rubs your bottom lip and you open your mouth. You don’t even need to think, instantly accepting the intrusion of the digit, sucking on it while holding his gaze.

It would have terrified you a year ago, with anyone else, losing yourself to instinct like that, opening yourself up so willingly. With Felix, it feels right, it feels good.

“It’s you and me,” he says. “You understand that?”

You nod, humming affirmatively around his thumb. It rubs over your tongue, opens your mouth a little more. You want to close your eyes with every rolling thrust into you, but he tugs your face back to him when you try.

“You’re my mate,” he says. “Just you. It’s always – always been you.” He groans on the second always, picking up some speed, making you whine against his fingers.

He is so hot, clearly in the grips of his rut fever, but you cling to him, accepting everything he has to offer.

“Gonna be mine,” he says. “That’s right, yeah?” You nod frantically. “Yeah. Gonna put a ring on your finger. You’re gonna be so good to me, aren’t you? Gonna let me take care of you. Gonna be my mate. Gonna have my children. You and me. Home. Oh, yes, sweetheart, that’s it—”

You clench so tightly at the mention of children. It catches you off guard, your body’s visceral and immediate response, faster than your brain compute can why. You have told Felix you want children one day, in the future, back when you were just friends and it was an abstract thought. Thinking of a home with him, having his children, making a whole life together, being bound so completely …

“Fuck,” you say, his thumb sliding out of your mouth. He cups your face to keep it locked on him, your lips brushing each other.

“Look at me,” he whispers.

You do, though you are so close that you barely see him. It feels like he is everywhere, everything, around you and inside you. You melt when he kisses you, stealing your breath as he claims you so completely. You kiss back, messy and haphazard, all heat and wetness, but it feels good.

“C-can’t get pregnant,” you say with a pout, a bit delirious from getting fucked, letting the words roll thoughtlessly off your tongue. “B-birth control.”

“I know,” he says. He moves a little, gets up so he can hold your hips and pull you onto his cock with every thrust. “I’m stronger,” he says, just as deliriously, watching where his cock moves inside you. “Yeah. Gonna fill you up so much, it’ll happen anyway. It can’t stop me.”

He holds your hips, keeps you in place. He thrusts into you deeply and says, “You’re mine,” and thrusts again, “You’re mine,” and thrusts again, “You’re mine,” and comes inside you.

It is not quite like all the werewolf pornography, with exaggerated knots on preposterously sized cocks, but werewolf physiology is still a little different than human. That difference is exacerbated on a rut. You feel it as he comes, the way he swells and gets harder, just enough that you feel your fullest as he releases. Pushing at you walls, stretching you around him, making you his without question.

He doesn’t really soften after, the rut sustaining him, but the swelling goes down. Even then, not entirely, as you feel a sharper burn when he pulls out of you. The flicker of pain is oddly tantalizing, a biting sensation on top of so many others. It ripples through you, makes you moan.

Your whole body is twitching, eyes closed as you come back to yourself.

You look up at Felix. His eyes are between your legs, his hand running up your thigh. You feel his thumb spread your pussy open, feel his release spilling out of you. That is the other different element; with a werewolf, there is a lot more of everything.

Though you know your birth control will function regardless, when you feel all that inside you… for a moment, you believe he might be strong enough to overpower it.

It makes you giddy, pleasure moving through your body. He smiles at you, all sunshine and sweetness. Then he takes control of your hips and puts himself back inside you. The refractory period on a rut is virtually nonexistent on the peak day, which is usually the second day, which is today.

“You okay?” he asks, rocking into you slowly even though he fits so easily now, your body made to take him.

You nod, sliding your hands over his shoulders. You scratch across his back then up in his hair, making him grunt and close his eyes. He leans down and kisses you, continuing to fuck you until you are making all those sweet sounds again.

“Good?” he asks, kissing your jaw, your neck.

“Good,” you say.

“Not too much?” he checks.

“Mm, no,” you say. You give him a teasing smile. “Not enough actually.”

“Oh, really?” He laughs, eyes big with playful incredulity. “Should I growl and bite more?” He makes a playful snarl like the werewolves in all the erotica.

It makes you laugh. You can’t remember the last time you laughed while having sex, but it feels so good, just as good as all the hot, desperate stuff.

“Hmm, maybe not,” he says, laughing too. “Maybe all the making-a-bitch stuff is a bit much, hm?”

It seems you will learn more about yourself than him over this rut, because that also makes you clench involuntarily. He blinks with surprise, mouth in a soft ‘o’ as he looks down at you. He laughs just a little at the look on your face, a low chuckle as his grin widens.

You cover your mouth, blinking innocently up at him.

“Oh shit,” he says. “I see.”

You pout when he pulls out of you, but there is little time to feel bereft because he flips you over onto your front. Your face lands in the pillows, then he yanks you down the bed.

Oh, it feels filthy suddenly, because the new angle opens you up and you can feel come dripping out of you. It catches his eye too, because he puts his fingers there and stuffs it back inside you.

With little effort, he gets you back under him, pushes down your shoulders and lifts up your hips. You feel him at your entrance again, pushing the tip past the rim.

“Is that it?” he asks, dropping his voice so low yet sounding so sweet. “You want me to make you my bitch, baby?”

He slams home, holding your hips up while pounding into you with relentless measure. You grab a pillow to hold, yelping and whining into it as he fucks you with wild abandon.

For a few seconds, you succumb to that single-minded animalistic pursuit, and you really do believe he can put a baby in you. You start babbling the desire – begging for it, asking him to fill you up.

“Please, please, please,” you say, gasping.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he says, draping himself over your back, not stopping his hips for a second. “I got you. I’ll give you a baby. So good for me. Made to take it from me, yeah, baby?”

You know you are going to come again, his angle and precision too much to withstand. Sure enough, you are coming all over his cock in a matter of seconds, squeezing him into another orgasm too.

He kneels behind you, throws his head back while coming. Then he grinds inside you like he is trying to get it as deep as possible.

“Oh, Felix,” you say, whimpering when he pulls out, still hard, the burn less this time because you are so filthy wet that he slides so easily. You can feel his release gush out of you, his fingers chasing it, pushing back into you.

He rubs at you until you are rocking your hips and coming on his fingers. It is so much stimulation that your eyes water and your nose starts to sniffle.

He rolls you over and cups your face. You open your mouth instinctively, tilting your head to expose your neck. He looks at you like he can’t really believe you are exist and that you are here.

“Wow,” he says. The hand on your face slides so he can put his thumb back in your mouth, letting you suck on it like it is giving you life. He clenches his jaw, makes a rough sound, presses down on your needy tongue. “Next time,” he says, while starting to put his cock back into you, “Your mouth. And my mouth. You’re gonna sit on my face for hours. I’m gonna take care of you. Oh—”

He is halfway inside you when you reach up, putting your hands on his chest. He stops immediately, pulling out, taking back his hands, looking at you with a concerned tilt to his head.

“Will you lay on your back?” you ask, voice hoarse.

He blinks, like for a second he doesn’t understand words, but then he obeys. His hair is in absolute disarray, a veritable lion’s mane. He rakes it back, smooths it down as best he can. He never takes his eyes off you, watching as you sit up, as you climb on top of him, as you put him back inside you and set a slower pace.

“My turn,” you say, smiling. “I want to take care of you too.”

He smiles, putting his hands on your hips but not guiding them. He lets you take the lead, moving on top of him, finding all the ways to make him moan and close his eyes and twitch inside you.

You make him come twice that way. After the second time, he finally starts to soften enough that you can take a break.

You lay down beside him, squeaking with surprise when you press down on your belly and a little more come gushes out of you. You look at each other, his face the picture of total innocence despite his hand in it. You swat his chest, rolling onto your side and putting your head on his chest.

He laughs, putting his arm around you, stroking your back.

“You know I do mean it,” he says, looking down at you. “I want everything with you.”

“Me too,” you say. You kiss his chest, then his neck, under his jaw, making him sigh contently. “I love you, Felix. Everything about you, wolf and all.”

“I love you too,” he says, pressing you close, kissing your forehead.

There is a long moment of content silence. He strokes your back, up and down, lulling you to a dozy state. It is too early to sleep and, besides, the sheets need changing before that – even though you suspect they will just be dirtied again.

You are contemplating these sweet mundane nothings when he says, “You’re in the pack, you know. As my mate. That makes you one of us.”

“Does it?” you ask.

“Yes,” he says. “I’m telling you this, because you’re a packmate and Chan is leader, but you’re my mate, so you have to take my side and tell him to fuck off when he tries to say I told you so.”

You laugh, shaking your head and playfully rolling your eyes.

“Sounds good,” you say. “Hmm, I might go have a shower before… the next… round…”

You do not have to look down to know that he is hard already, his blinking gaze revealing all. You giggle together and kiss again.

“All right, fair enough,” you say, eyes closed, exposing your neck obediently when he cups your nape. You press against him, moaning softly when he scents your neck then sucks a bruising kiss there. “It can wait,” you say, smiling. “We’ve been waiting for this long enough.”

“Mm,” he says, already slipping back into his feverish need. He grabs you and pulls you back on top of him.

There is not much talking for a while, but there is some laughter and plenty of smiles, and for the first time in a long time, you are looking forward to everything that follows after.

#lee felix x reader #felix x reader #lee felix smut #felix smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x you #skz x you #yongbbokkie #valentinesdaystories

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prkhaven · 1 month

Text

FORBIDDEN EYES -s.jy-

▐ pairing: popular!jake x quiet fem!reader

▐ synopsis: Dragged out to a party, you wanted nothing more than to leave but instead, you found yourself crammed into a closet with one of the most well known guys on your campus, Jake Sim.

▐ genre: smut minors do not interact, seven minutes in heaven au, kind of pwop, what’s plot?

▐ wc: 3k

-all warnings below cut-

▐ warnings: party setting, alcohol consumption, profanity, reader’s friend sucks, kissing, tension, usage of nickname (hun and jakey), lowkey down bad jake

▐ smut warnings: unprotect sex (big no no), p in v, quickie, slight dirty talk, creampie, hand over mouth, slight exhibition

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄

You stood off to the side, away from the sea of sweaty people grinding their bodies together as music filled the stuffy house leaving no room for your own thoughts.

Through the crowds of people, you tried to look for any of your friends who brought you out here in the first place only you leave you behind in a flash.

You grumbled not believing you allowed yourself to be dragged out this when you told them numerous times you didn’t want to come.

“Looking for someone?” You turned to the accented voice and that’s when you saw Jake, displaying his infamous sweet smile

Out of 10 randomly chosen people, those 10 people will know exactly who Jake is. Captain of the soccer team, surprisingly very intelligent despite his carefree attitude, and most of his small friend group that made a name for themselves.

You knew who Jake simply was and it was the exact opposite of you. You didn’t respond to his question as you continued to look for your friends.

The questioning gaze he shot you cut through you like a knife but you didn’t dare face him, unaware of just how strong his undeniable power could be over you if you looked at him.

“I can help you find whoever you’re looking for” He tried to insinuate the conversation again but you only shook your head walked off, not wanting to stay any longer

Jake rapidly blink at the now empty space in front of him before letting out a scoff as his eyes trailed over you with a slight smirk before going after you. “Hey!” You somehow managed to pick up the same voice you were trying to get away from through the loud noises of the party

When you thought, you had escaped him, you were turned around and met with Jake’s body as he pulled you towards him and held a protective arm over you. You heard a loud thud from behind and you peered over your shoulders to see someone crashed into a wave of people causing them to fall down like dominos.

Your eyes widen as you and Jake’s eyes met as he gave you a tight smile and gave a squeeze to your shoulder before letting his arm fall to his side to let you go.

You shivered at the sudden coldness from when his arm unwrapped itself from around you and you stopped yourself from thinking about that anymore.

“Good thing I was able to catch up to you before you became one of those people” He puckered his plump lips to the people who slipped trying to get back on their feet

He expected to get sine type of reaction out of you from his comment, literally anything would have satisfied him but you only stared at him with an unreadable expression and it was driving him insane.

Just because you were quiet didn’t mean you weren’t known about, especially to Jake. He’s seen you walking around campus multiple times and his eyes always followed you until you were out of his sight as he deemed you, pretty mysterious girl, that he tried numerous times to talk to but always failed in the end.

“Hun! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” One of your friends suddenly appeared after not seeing her the moment you entered the party, as she wrapped her arm around your arm but she piqued seeing Jake

“Jakey? What’s your deal with my friend?” Your friend narrowed her eyes to him as he weakly raised his hands up to show his innocence

“Just watching out for her” His gaze shifted onto you before walking away from the two of you without another word

Your friend dusted you to remove Jake’s presence off of you, “Hun you have to be careful of guys like Jake. He’s always up to no good” Your friend pouted, shaking her head, “I’m speaking from experience”

But instead of paying attention to your friend’s rambles, you zoned out as you unconsciously searched through the numerous crowd of faces until you found Jake’s piercing gaze already on you.

A smirk plastered on his face as he gave a wave towards you, as an acknowledgement, to let you know that just how you looked from him in the crowd, he always looked for you too.

You frowned when you caught his face but your eyes never left his once.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

The night was still young according to your friends’ words as they squealed dragging you with them to a separate room in the house away from the party.

Right when you entered the room, it was silent and peaceful. The room blocked out the unbearable noise of the party and you hummed in happiness until your eyes settled upon the circle formed in the middle of the room, your eyes immediately soloing out Jake who let out a grin seeing you.

“You finally made it” Heeseung, another one a part of Jake’s infamous friend group spoke as he motioned for you and your friends to sit down with them

You saw how Jake shot his eyes towards the empty space next to him to you but it was filled by the very friend who warned you to stay away from Jake. “Jakey!” Her voice squealed as she sat uncomfortably close to him

Jake’s eyes darted from you to your friend but you turned your heel to sit across from him in between his other two closest friends, Jay and Sunghoon.

They gave a courtesy greeting as you sat down which you quietly returned, already hating the position you were in.

“Alright! Let’s get this party actually started!” Heeseung called out as he brought out an empty bottle and placed in between the circle

“Are you in middle school Heeseung? What is this?” Sunghoon sharply commented and Heeseung scoffed

“Relax it’s either do the dare or take a shot” Heeseung explained as he brought out a bottle of pure vodka next to hi

With the sudden view of the alcohol, it rose out cheers and claps of joy as Heeseung quickly spun the empty bottle anticipating who would be the first one to be picked.

Your eyes watched the spinning bottle, feeling your heart racing as the bottle spun and spun before slowly coming to a stop right in front of you. Your friend next to Jake gasped seeing you being the first one to be chosen for it.

“What’s it going to be… Dare? Or shot?” Heeseung asked as his hands held the vodka bottle and you gulped, eyeing the bottle

No response came out of you as you still looked to the bottle which made Heeseung raise an eyebrow in amusement, “Choosing to take a shot on the first round. Interesting” He chuckled as he poured you your shot and handed it over to you

You grabbed the shot as you looked ahead of you, seeing Jake’s worried expression but you looked away, mentally preparing yourself for the inevitable burn in your throat but when you were going to bring it to your lips, a hand suddenly grabbed the shot from you.

You looked to see Jake’s friend, Jay, down the shot in your honor, hissing at the burn. “Aw come on Jay, it was for her!” Your friend grumpily told but he didn’t pay any mind to her and handed the shot back to Heeseung

“Alright Jay’s stepping in as the gentleman he is” Sunghoon clapped his hands loudly at his friend who gave a shove to him behind your back to shut him up

Heeseung looked to you before telling you to spin the bottle for the next round. You leaned forward and weakly spun the bottle before going back to your spot.

As the bottle spun, you leaned your body to Jay who instantly noticed and brought his head towards you, “Thank you for taking the shot for me” You quietly spoke and Jay kindly smiled and waved it off as nothing

“You didn’t seem to want to take the shot or the dare so I decided to step in” Jay returned your soft tone with his own

You gave a small smile and a soft nod of your head before straightening out your posture, seeing the bottle im the corner of your eye slowing down in your opposite direction.

Jake’s fisted his knee as he looked between you and Jay, not able to hear the short shared words. How was it possible that Jay received more attention than he ever could only ever imagine getting in the span of not even 30 minutes in meeting you.

“What’s it going to be Jake? Dare or shot?”

The mention of his name brought him back from looking at you who finally leaned away from Jay and straightened out your body to look at him as the bottle pointed towards him.

“What?” Jake’s confused response as he looked around caused a light ripple of chuckles and Heeseung pointed to the bottle that pointed to him

“Dare or shot?” He was asked the question once again and he snuck a glance to you, who didn’t look away from him once

“Dare” Oo’s filled the room and Sunghoon quickly jumped in, wanting to give his best friend the dare

“I dare you to do seven minutes in heaven with someone in this room” Jake felt his heart drop as he stared at his friend, bewildered at the dare given

Sunghoon only smirked before sneaking a glance towards you before leaning back on his hands staring to Jake. “Your choice though”

Hearing the offer of him being allowed to choose who to do seven minutes in heaven made his mind wander to you, the only person clouding him.

Your friend on the other hand was oblivious and batted her eyelashes, seeing Jake get up from his spot as she expected him to offer a hand to join him but her jaw fell slack seeing him walk over to you and offer his hand to you instead.

You looked to Jake’s hand before looking up to his gaze that only focused on you. “Will you do seven minutes in heaven with me?” Jake asked and you hesitantly nibbled on your lip

There was a moment of silence, anticipation filling the air of what your response was going to be to his offer and gasped filled the room when you softly clasped your hands with his as he helped you to your feet then guided you to the closet in the room.

The moment the closet door closed, the timer started. Jake underestimated just how small the closet was as there was barely enough space for the two of you to move freely.

The only source of light was the one shinning from underneath the crack of the closet door. But Jake somehow was able to see your face clearly, as the front of your body was against his.

Jake nervously gulped feeling your tits pressing against him and you slightly moved in the crammed closet and he closed his eyes silently, asking for forgiveness for the sinful thoughts in his head. “Jake?” Your soft voice calling out his name, shot fire throughout his body and burned him

He weakly hummed not trusting himself to speak. “How come you asked me to do this with you?” Your question made him open his eyes to face you

As his eyes found yours in the dark, he could still feel the intensity of the moment and it turn his mind into mush as he softly grasped your cheeks with his hand and brought his face closer to yours, his lips hovering over you. “Push me away if you don’t want this” He murmured and he expected you to shove him away but little did he know, you didn’t want this to stop

Your lips were quick to meet with his and he let out a shocked noise before having his eyes close, melting into the kiss. Everything faded to dust and it was only you and Jake in the entire world.

You wrapped your arm around his head to bruise your lips even tighter together causing Jake to wrap his arms around to hold you close.

This was all he ever wanted to experience and he knew he couldn’t possibly let this go, he was going to make sure he super glue himself to you. “Jakey” You breathlessly let out as he leaned away from your mouth and peppered your jaw and neck with his kisses

“Keep saying my name like that” He murmured in your neck as your hands found their way to the fluff of hair

“Jakey. Jakey” You repeated and Jake’s hold on you tightened as he could feel his mind slipping off hearing your siren voice chanting his name

Such desperation and need filled your bodies as Jake slotted his leg in between you and grazing your clothed core making you let out a loud gasp, gripping his hair as he continued to nibble on your skin.

You slowly rubbed yourself on his offered leg, feeling your panties stick even more to you from the friction and you were panting loudly as you felt the delicious rub against your clothed core.

Jake felt your rubbing self on him and smirked as whispered loud enough for you to hear, “Rubbing yourself on me with such desperation makes me think you want me to take you right here, right now”

You weakly nodded your head, mind reeling in the minimum pleasure you were feeling, “Yes, take me right here Jakey. P-please” Your broken out voice went straight to his aching cock and he couldn’t believe that you were asking, begging, for him

This was only supposed to be a simple round of seven minutes in heaven but instead it was going to go down in history in his books as the best seven minutes in heaven to ever exist.

He planted a kiss on the tip of your nose with a deep chuckle, “Anything you wish for hun” The usage of the nickname your friend uses for you made you shudder as it lolled off his tongue with such ease

Jake was quick to bring down his pants just enough for his cock to spring out as you turned to have your back towards him and dropped your panties and pants all in one shot, not wanting to waste the limited time you had left.

“Fuck” He gasped, even under the little to no lighting in the crammed closet, your pussy still glistened “The prettiest ever” Jake rubbed your ass in admiration as it pressed firmly against him

“Jakey please” You whined and Jake shushed you quickly as his chest hit your back as he brought his lips to your ear

“Gotta be quiet hun unless you want everyone out there to know I’m splitting you open with my cock” His hot breath fanned over the shell of your ear and you shivered at the thought of possibly being caught

You whined loudly and that caused Jake to cover your mouth with his hand as the other one helped eased his cock into your gaping hole. You gasped loudly in his hand from the intrusion, gripping his wrist harshly.

“Sucking me so good. Promise I’ll properly take care of you but right now we’re in a bit of a rush” Jake blabbed feeling the clench of you as you gripped him like no tomorrow

“F-fuck” Jake breathlessly let out only sinking halfway in before giving shallow thrust to help bottom him out later instead of right now, not wanting to be interrupted

You moaned in Jake’s hand as his hips met with your ass from behind. The stretch from his cock made you fall apart and you let your obscene noises fall out and onto his hand that still covered your mouth. “D-didn’t know you could be so fucking loud” Jake groaned as he soon found a fast pace that allowed you both to feel such heights of pleasures in a short amount of time

“Jakey!” Your muffled cries of his name only made him snap his hips harder into you, trying to chase the high for you to come together

His freehand rubbed your clit in fast circular motions causing you to claw his bracelet on his wrist in desperation.

“Come for me, come for me” The words against your ear made your clamp down tightly as you creamed his cock with your juices

His frantic thrust only became messier until he finally bottomed out inside of you as his warm seed filled your insides. He let out gruntled sigh as he emptied himself.

Jake let go of your mouth and held your body in his arm as he noticed your knees bucking from the wave of release.

He finally heard your soft whimpers and he hated how he had to make sure you stayed quiet instead of being able to properly hear your beautiful noises.

Jake soothed the side of your hips to help you relax as he kept his cock buried deep inside you not wanting to leave the warmth you provided for him.

He gulped trying to regain his breath, panting heavily as he could feel the slight twitching of his cock as you still remained your grip on him. The arm that didn’t hold your body up rested against the wall to hold himself up.

He could stay buried in your warm hole forever but the screeching of the closet door opening and the aggravating voice of Park Sunghoon filled his ears, “Time’s up-”

Jake quickly reached behind his back to the handle of the opening closet door and slammed it shut before anyone could see what happened inside the closet.

He didn’t need anyone else seeing you like this, it was something for his eyes only from now on.

You peered over your shoulder in fear but Jake gave you a reassuring smile as he continued to hold the door shut with his hand, “Don’t worry” He gave a feathering kiss to your cheek before poking your side making your squeal and jolt causing a slight friction in between your jointed selves.

He chuckled softly at the glare you sent him as he could feel his heart swelling because of you, “Are you free tomorrow afternoon? I’d like to take you out on a date”

#enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enhypen fics #jake sim #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun x reader #jake x reader #jake sim x reader #enhypen jake #jake smut #jaeyun smut #jake sim smut #sim jaeyun smut #kpop smut #enhypen fluff #enhypen oneshot #enhypen

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benevolentbones · 3 months

Note

Hi ✨️✨️

Emily's sister likes Reid and flirts with him a lot before asking him out and he's all shy.

your type | spencer reid x prentiss!reader

warnings: none really, alcohol consumption, flirting

word count: 1.7k

a/n: hi!! hope you enjoy nervous spencer :) love him. reblogs and comments appreciated <3

half team were sitting around the office, finishing off the last of their paperwork for the night, it was a friday night and a certain member of the team was growing bored of filing away the never ending pile of reports. hotch, jj and gideon had already left for the night, leaving the rest of the team to finish off the workload.

emily leaned back in her desk chair, her red long sleeve shirt complimenting her complexion as she tucked her dark locks behind her ears.

“it’s friday night- we should go out and do something fun. lets go to a bar.” emily spoke, interrupting the sound of keyboards clacking and paper shuffling.

“i agree, let’s get out of here.” derek grinned, standing up from his seated position to have a well deserved stretch, his shoulder making a popping sound as he did so.

“reid, you in?”

spencer adjusted his posture at the sound of his name, his head turning towards his colleagues.

“i don’t know guys- i kind of wanted to read ‘the history of torture’ by george riley scott.” he responded, scratching the back of his head.

“the history of torture? on a friday night?” derek shot spencer a confused expression.

“just a bit of light reading.” spencer shrugged.

“nope, i want you guys to meet my sister, she’s a bartender at this new place down the road. it’ll be fun.” emily stood up, grabbing her bag that sat under her desk.

“but-“

“you can read tomorrow, right now it’s time for you to socialise. morgan text garcia, let’s go.”

spencer found himself sitting in the backseat of emily’s car as she drove downtown, derek sat in the front. penelope had replied saying she would meet everyone there.

“i don’t see why the child locks were necessary.” spencer mumbled, pulling on the inside door handle.

“shh. we’re almost here.” emily pulled up next to bar, there was a group of people standing outside cigarettes resting between their index and middle fingers. clouds of smoke plumed into the night sky, through the hazy air a neon sign read ‘the wine seller’.

emily unlocked the car, stepping out and strutting her way to the entrance, derek and spencer following close behind. in the midst of all the smoke stood garcia, her blonde hair tied in space buns with a blue polkadot dress adorning her form.

“are we ready to party!” she exclaimed, clearly she had already had a drink or two.

everyone stumbled into the bar, immediately a wave of noise washed over them. i’m the centre of it all, people were dancing on each other flashing lights casting rays of colour over their sweaty bodies.

“is your sister cute?” derek questioned emily over the loud music.

she rolled her eyes in response. “you could say that.”

“what’s her type?” he grinned, scanning the bar.

“oh you’ll see.” emily chuckled.

spencer rolled his shoulders nervously, trailing behind emily who was making a b line for the bar. she called out to a girl who was facing the shelves full of liquor.

“y/n!”

you whipped your head around to see where the voice had come from, a grin immediately forming when you saw your older sister stood at the bar.

“emily! finally made it out of the office i see.” you chuckled, grabbing a bottle of vodka from the shelf and pouring it into a shot glass for the man that stood at the bar. he nodded as a thank you and made his way back to the dance floor.

“it’s busy in here wow.” emily muttered, eyes scanning the room as she rested her hands on the bar counter.

“mhm i sure know how to bring in a crowd, what can i get for you and… you lot?” you peered around at the three people behind you. penelope rushed to emily’s side giving you a big smile.

“oh right, this is penelope, derek and spencer, from the bau.” you gave everyone a small smile, your eyes lingering on the taller hazel eyed man who stood awkwardly behind emily.

“i’ll take a pink gin and lemonade.” she shouted over the music, you nodded with a smile and reached for the gin.

derek strolled over to the counter, eyeing you as you picked up a gin glass.

“i’ll just have a whiskey.” he shot you a grin which you returned.

“make that two.” emily added, rooting in her bag for her wallet.

you made the drinks and laid them out along the counter for the team to take.

“and for the cutie in the back?” your voice travelled to spencer who seemed caught off guard by your comment.

“uh- me? uh i’ll have i uh- vodka soda.” he stuttered out, heat rising to his face.

“whatever you want sweetheart.” you shot him a wink and began to make his drink.

emily turned her focus to derek who was sipping at his drink.

“i see why you wanted to bring reid here so bad.” he laughed, and then dragged garcia to the dance floor.

“y/n what time do you get off, will you have a drink with us?” emily asked, taking a gulp of her drink immediately feeling the alcohol’s warmth spread through her body.

“twenty minutes em, then i’m all yours.”

“come find me later!” your older sister yelled out, disappearing into a crowd of warm bodies.

you served up spencer’s drink, passing it to him. he tucked his hair behind his ear before reaching for his wallet to pay.

“don’t worry, it’s on me.” you shot him a charming smile which he returned.

“t-thanks y/n.” he reached for the drink, taking a small sip, before taking a seat at the bar. you raised your eyebrow slightly in surprise, not expecting him to take a seat.

you could tell he was very much out of his element, that everyone had just come from the office. he wore a white striped button up shirt paired with a pair of suit trousers, his tie hung loose around his neck. his big eyes wandered around the room before falling back on you, you had already moved on to making cocktails for a bridal party to his left.

spencer studied your form, your quick movements and ability to multitask in such a busy environment impressed him. you wore a tight black tank top along with a black miniskirt the ended just above your mid thigh, and a small black apron was tied around your waist.

he couldn’t help but stare at your figure as you rushed around the bar, your form fitting clothing showing off every curve to your body, in all honestly he was infatuated.

finally the rush had died down and you were making your way back to your side of the bar to polish more glasses, you noticed spencer’s intense gaze on you and smiled to yourself.

“you like what you see, dr.reid?” you questioned, poking fun.

he immediately pulled his fixed look from your body and up to your eyes.

“i- uh sorry.” he nervously sipped at his drink, feeling embarrassed.

“don’t be, you’re pretty cute yourself.” you shot him a small wink and he felt his face flush.

“so spencer, how are you liking working at the bau?” you quizzed, carrying a stack of glasses to the shelf behind you.

“uh- it’s good, i like that i can help people.” he muttered out a vague answer, which he followed with a question.

“a-and do you like being a bartender?”

you shrugged, wandering back to stand in front of spencer.

“it’s just a part time job, i’m studying criminal psychology right now in college, im in my third year.” this got his attention, he straightened his posture, taking another sip of his drink.

“oh really? that’s so interesting- what do you plan on doing after?” he seemed less anxious now.

“i’m not really sure, might do a masters- it was emily’s suggestion.” you let out a small laugh, spencer longed to hear you laugh more.

“i take it this isn’t really your vibe?” you stated, looking around the bar at people making out and dancing, spencer followed your stare. emily and penelope were in the middle of the dance floor cheering derek on who had now taken his shirt off and was swinging it above his head.

“uh- no not really, i didn’t really plan on coming here tonight, but prentiss- your sister, she kind of child locked me in her car.” he mumbled out, an awkward laugh leaving his mouth.

you pinched your eyebrows, shaking your head and letting out a joking sigh. “she’s trying to set me up.”

“set you up?” he repeated what you had said.

your face warmed as you began to speak, “i broke up with my ex over a year ago and was recently complaining about how i can never meet any decent guys at the bar, because- i mean look.” you gestured to a corner where a group of frat bros were downing their beers.

“and em said she knew someone who would be great for me.” you eyes landing back on spencer.

“you mean me?” he pointed to himself, still somewhat confused.

you nodded. “i mean she managed to guess my type exactly, can’t blame her there.” you now gestured to spencer, his face burning a dark crimson, and it wasn’t the alcohol’s fault.

“i mean i hope you’re single- and i’m not just aimlessly flirting with a taken man. that would be a little embarrassing..” you trailed off, rubbing the nape of your neck, your tank top lifted slightly revealing your midriff.

“i- i yeah i’m single.” spencer couldn’t quite grasp the fact you were flirting with him, on purpose. he honestly thought someone like you would either be in a relationship or have a line of much more attractive men just waiting to take you out.

you smiled at his flustered state, you thought he was adorable.

“well then, dr.reid, would you like to go on a date with me sometime? maybe a café or the park, somewhere not as chaotic as this?” you questioned, you were pretty confident in yourself, which was something that ran in your family.

“yeah…i would like that, a lot.” he smiled at you, you quickly jotted down your number on a piece of paper, passing it to spencer.

your eyes flickered to the watch on your wrist, a smile spreading across your face.

“time for me to clock out, darlin. i’ll be right back.” and with that you skipped off into the back of the bar to grab your things, your heart beating twice as quick.

taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea @thedancingnerdmermaid

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff

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strang3lov3 · 7 months

Text

Enjoy the Silence

You trespass into Joel’s house in search of some peace and quiet so you can get yourself off. Joel catches you in his bed in a compromising position. (5.2k)

That’s Pedro’s bum can you tell I love ass

Tags- pillow humping, masturbation, getting caught in the act, some humiliation but Joel talks you through it, oral (f receiving), unprotected piv, prone bone, softdom Joel, little bit of crying (good tears) creampie, let me know if there’s something I missed.

A/N- Thank you to @tightjeansjavi , @notjustjavierpena , and @noxturnalpascal for all of your encouragement on this I know I’m not easy to deal with sometimes AND thank you my dear readers for being patient with me, I’ve been slacking on writing/uploading. I’d love it if you’d say hi to me, I’ve been missing you!! Hope you enjoy this one I’m glad to be back❤️🩷💜💙🩵

It’s too fucking loud tonight. You live with a group of single women in Jackson, all somewhere around your age, a few older, a few younger. You get along well with them, and they get along well with each other. Too well, perhaps. They’ve been talking for hours tonight. Hours. And they talk for hours most other nights too, especially now that the weather is starting to warm up. They’ve been making drinks and playing music, being rowdy. It’s past eleven at this point and they’re still going at it.

You can’t sleep. The blankets are too warm, but without them you’re cold. You’ve flipped your pillow over what feels like hundreds of times. It’s just one of those nights. Except every night is one of those nights, it seems. You tried touching yourself to fall asleep easier, but with no success. It’s not exactly the easiest getting off in such a full house. You’ve got privacy in your bedroom, sure. But the walls are thin and sound carries with such ease.

God, does this suck. A lot of your problems would be solved if you could just get yourself off. You sit up in bed and stare out your window and into the window of the house next to yours. Joel’s window. His lights are off now, but earlier you had caught a glimpse of him getting out of his bathroom. His hair was wet and slicked back, his skin shiny and damp. He’s so sexy, so thick. That’s when you moved your hand between your thighs as you watched him pick out clothes from his dresser, biting your lip and circling your clit frantically as you prayed for his towel to drop. It didn’t. It never does. You groaned quietly in disappointment as you watched Joel walk back to his bathroom and then come out moments later fully dressed, subsequently shutting off his lights and leaving his bedroom. For a moment, with your eyes and your thoughts focused on Joel, you were able to block out all the noise and focus on your pleasure. But then he left and the pleasure vanished.

You’ve lived next to Joel for quite a while now. More often than not he’s grumpy, keeping mostly to himself and Ellie. He’d usually just glare at you and your roommates. He can be friendly with others, though.

Once one evening, Joel had spent five minutes knocking at your door to complain about the noise. You saw it coming, you and your roommates had amassed quite a few dirty looks from him in the moments prior. You watched him through the window, glaring at your porch from his own. Your roommates were outside, talking and listening to an old but new-to-you CD. He wore a scowl and his arms were crossed at his chest when you finally opened the door.

“You ladies are chatty,” he grumbled. “Your music’s hurtin’ my ears.”

“We can be chatty, yeah,” you replied, “But you’re kinda crotchety.”

Joel sighed and rolled his eyes. “I’m askin’ you politely to keep it down,” He turned to leave then, but you tapped the back of his leg with your foot, stopping him, “You could go inside, you know,” you taunted.

Joel turned back around slowly. He looked so big, so broad as he looked down at you. “So could you.”

“Hm,” you hummed. You weren’t really sure why you were arguing with Joel when really, you agreed with him. The CD player sounds tinny and hurts your own ears at times, you can’t imagine what it does to Joel’s damaged ears. And the girls were too loud, other people live around here. But you were annoyed at the way he came over to complain about the noise level when he doesn’t know half of it, how loud it gets. “Fine. I’ll get them to quiet down if you do something for me.”

Joel raised his eyebrows, “Oh, I’m doin’ ya favors now?”

“Something like that,” you said.

“What do you want?” he asked through a sigh.

“You’re right, they’re being too loud,” you explained, “You don’t know how loud it can be, actually. I’ll try to get them to quiet down if you let me get some peace and quiet.”

“How’s that?”

“Well, your house is usually pretty quiet,” you began.

Joel nodded. “Mhm. And I like it that way.”

“And I’ll keep it that way,” you urged. “Please? My roommates are so loud, I can’t even hear myself–”

“Yeah, I know. Come on,” Joel interrupted. “Let’s go inside, then. Talk to your girls tomorrow.”

Joel led you to his house, opened the door for you and brought you inside. He offered you a glass of water and told you to make yourself at home, so you sat quietly on his sofa. Joel sat on the loveseat next to you. He figured you’d have brought a book or something to busy yourself with, but when he looked up at you after a few moments, you had curled your legs into your chest, laying sideways on his couch. He laughed to himself quietly and laid a blanket over your body, then turned out the lights and went upstairs to bed. You had never slept so peacefully. And that’s how the tradition began, Joel would let you come over to enjoy the quietness of his home. You never made good on his end of the deal, though. Your roommates stayed too loud, but it didn’t matter. You and Joel had found a system that worked for you both.

Still staring at Joel’s window, you shift your attention towards the direction of Joel’s front door when you hear it slam shut. You watch him stroll away, probably off to drink with Tommy or something like that.

Your core is still aching, a dull but constant ache. You’re thinking about Joel, unable to get the image of his slick body out of your mind. You’re thinking of the quietness of his house. Peace and quiet would be nice right about now. It’s never this late when you go over to Joel’s. You know you’re welcome over any time. Joel gave you a key to his home when you earned that privilege. But surely he didn’t have that open-door policy for what you’re thinking of using his quiet home for. He wouldn’t know though, right?

Fuck it, you decide, climbing out of your bed and sliding on a pair of slippers. First grabbing Joel’s key from your nightstand, you exit your room and go down the stairs, going towards the back door where you walk past all of your roommates in the living room who don’t seem bothered or worried about what you’re up to this late at night. The chill of the air bites at your cheeks and your shoulders. You didn’t bring a jacket, but the distance from your back door to Joel’s isn’t a long one.

You unlock his back door with your key and let yourself inside, scraping any dirt from your slippers on his doormat so as not to track it inside. It’s always quiet, but the silence is almost eerie. It makes you feel uneasy, doubly so because you know you’re doing something you shouldn’t be. But you’ll be quick. Joel won’t know, so no harm no foul.

You scan the first floor, looking for a quiet, comfortable area. Joel’s home looks almost like TV in black and white the way it’s so dark right now. The first floor is no good, you’ll feel exposed. So you walk up his stairs, and your first instinct is to go to his guest room. You spend a lot of time there anyway, when you’re not napping on his couch you’re napping in that room. But he keeps it clean for you, pristine. The bed is made neatly and tailored specifically to his taste. You’d never be able to recreate that, he’d instantly become suspicious.

Across the hall is his own bedroom, not nearly as tidy as his guest room. A clothes pile on a chair, the shade of his lamp slightly off kilter. His bed is made up of crumpled sheets and blankets, the pillows indented from the weight of his head. Joel won’t know a thing.

You tiptoe into his room, closing his door but the creak of its hinge cuts through the quiet air and startles you. Maybe it’s better to leave it untouched. You make your way quietly to his bed, first sitting on the edge, your feet dangling slightly in the air. You kick your feet a little, letting your slippers fall off. You feel so out of place here, so wrong. Like you’re invading his privacy, but you’re not. Not really. You’re not here to snoop or to do anything wrong, you’re just here to…well.

You lie back in his bed, his sheets are soft and worn, cold on the back of your legs. Their scent fills your nostrils, they smell like Joel. Like soap and his musk, slightly sweaty. It’s almost like he’s here with you. Spreading your legs and dipping your hand beneath your pajama bottoms, your mind starts to wander. Tracing your clit with your fingers, your brain is flooded with flashes of Joel. At first, it’s images of his neck, his forearms, his hands, all the veins protruding, muscles flexing. You’re circling your clit faster as you imagine he’s here with you, that it’s not his bed you’re lying against but instead his chest, he’s holding your knees apart as he nudges your head to the side with his nose, your neck exposed for him to lick and kiss and nip as you tease your cunt. You come quickly and your fantasy drifts from you. You make yourself come once more before you adjust the bedsheets slightly, put your slippers on and leave. Joel’s bedroom looks just as he left it.

You watched him, learned his evening schedule. On Tuesdays and Thursdays he’s out on evening patrol, he doesn’t come home until the early morning. Those are the nights you sneak over to his house. As time goes on, you learn that you can be less careful. You don’t bother wiping your shoes, you don’t tiptoe like you used to. You’ll push the bedroom door open wide when Joel leaves it halfway shut. When you leave, you don’t bother laying the sheets back in the way Joel has them crumpled.

Joel notices.

You still come over for your usual quiet time, and Joel studies you. He’s begun sitting close to you, trying to memorize the smell of your shampoo on your hair. He thinks he smells it on his pillow. And the scent of your body, your soap and your perfume. He thinks he can smell it on his sheets. He thinks he can smell you on his sheets.

You stay too long in his bed one Thursday night, startled when you hear Joel’s heavy footsteps in the distance. You bolt out of his bed, going down his stairs both as quickly and as quietly as you can. You shouldn’t have been so ballsy. Joel thinks he hears the door close but doesn’t pay it much mind as he undresses and gets into bed, and he doesn’t even notice you running back to your house from his window. What he does notice, however, is the way his bed feels warm as he lays down. He runs his hand along the length of his bed, the sheets feel cool on the opposite side. When he flips on his side, his nose nudges against something damp on his pillow. That’s when he sees your light flickering on from across the distance between your two windows, he sits up in bed to get a closer look at you. He watches your chest heaving like you’re out of breath, perhaps from sprinting across his lawn. He watches you then fall on your bed, he sees both of your knees hike up and spread apart. That’s when he puts two and two together. Suspicions confirmed.

He always knew you were trouble. And now he knows what you’ve been up to, trespassing to touch yourself in his home, in his bed, without him. You goddamn deviant. He’s gonna catch you in the act.

Four whole days go by, which gives Joel enough time to find someone to cover his evening patrol. It’s Tuesday night and he’s got his bedroom lights off so you can’t see him watching you from his window. You look antsy, pacing back and forth across your room, frequently checking your window to see if he’s left yet. When Joel does leave his home, he’s conscious to not look behind himself at your window, to see if your light turns off. He doesn’t want you to know that he knows. He doesn’t look to see if you’re sneaking through his lawn. Instead, he keeps walking, giving you ample time to really screw yourself. When he feels a sufficient amount of time has passed, he turns back around and walks home. He enters his front door slowly and quietly, like a ghost. He takes careful steps through his living room, up his stairs. When he reaches his room, he pushes the door open wider and leans against the frame, listening to your breathy moans, watching you grind on his pillow in the low light of his room. You’re gripping his headboard as you whine, you’re even wearing one of his dirty flannels. Sick puppy.

“Joel,” you moan to yourself. “Joel, oh god–” the lights turn on and you turn your head to see Joel leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed.

“Joel!”

“Yeah, I know,” Joel murmurs. “Caughtcha, didn’t I?” Any words you could possibly think of are caught in your throat. You feel hot, itchy. Joel notices the key he gave you sitting on his dresser and spins it around his finger. “Wasn’t what I had in mind when we set up our little arrangement.”

“I was– I wasn’t–” you shift uncomfortably as Joel puts the key down.

He shuts his door and approaches you on his bed, first examining his headboard. He hums when he sees there’s little indents in the wood from your fingernails, marks on the wall behind the headboard. It all makes sense now. When Joel sits next to you on his bed, you quickly slide your ass off of his pillow and away from him. He’s quicker, tugging your– his flannel in the opposite direction, forcing you back to your place. “Nuh-uh,” he chides. “You stay right there.”

The air feels thick and Joel’s eyes are dark, almost inky black. You can hardly look at him, his intense gaze making you squirm. So instead you look down, where he plays with the fabric of his flannel, admiring the way it dances on your thighs with his touch. He lets a silence hang heavily between you both as he presses his lips in a thin line, waiting for you to explain yourself. You don’t. You can’t. You feel so exposed, so ashamed of yourself.

“Whatcha been doin’ to my pillow?” he finally asks. His voice is low, quiet and deep. He’s met with more silence. “Makin’ a mess, s’what. Up to no good, hm?” More silence as you adjust his flannel over your body, protecting your modesty. “I’m askin’ you a question,” he takes your chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, forcing eye contact.

“Yeah,” your voice is hardly above a whisper. Your face is hot, your waterline is brimmed thick with tears, a few spilling over. “I’m sorry, Joel.”

“Ohhh, I know,” Joel coos, wiping the tears from your cheek with his thumb. “M’not tryin’ to embarrass ya, darlin’. S’human nature.” You can’t even begin to think of a way to get out of this situation. “S’that pillow ‘sposed to be me?”

“Yes.”

“Figures,” Joel mumbles. “Makin’ me blush,” he taunts, tracing lazy patterns on your thigh. His touch makes your tummy flutter, it feels misleading. Like you’re enjoying it almost, though you shouldn’t be. “All you had to do was ask, sweetheart,” he says. “Didn’t need to make believe with my pillow. Get yourself into all this trouble.” You can’t quite get a read on what his angle is here. Still aroused and you feel nervous, small, guilty – awaiting punishment of some sort.

You’re defeated. All you can do is nod in understanding. You find the bravery to meet his eyes, his gaze still dark and intense, perhaps even hungry. He walks his fingers up the length of your thigh, noticing how you twitch as he nears your center. “I’ll go easy on ya f’ya tell me the truth. How long you been doin’ this, sweetheart?”

You are in trouble. He’ll go easy on you if you tell him the truth. “I dunno,” you whisper.

“Sure you do.”

You don’t even know. A few weeks, a month maybe. You shrug.

“Think you wanna be honest with me,” Joel advises, provoking you slightly. Nothing from you. “S’alright. You don’t have to tell me. Just means you’re gonna finish the job.”

“What?”

“You’re gonna finish what you started,” he says. “And this time I’m gonna stay right here and watch.”

Your heart drops. You search Joel’s eyes, looking for some sort of indication that he’s fucking with you. You’re not sure that you’re capable of this. Sex and masturbation are already two different animals. Getting off in front of the man you fantasize about in his bed? Where would you even begin?

“You had the balls to start this, you’re gonna finish it. Come on sweetheart, show me how you do it,” Joel nods, gesturing for you to begin. When you don’t, Joel scoots even closer to you on the bed. “So shy, aren’t you?” He turns his body toward you slightly, outstretching an arm across your body and then holds your hip in his strong hand. He begins to guide your movement, encouraging you to rock back and forth on his pillow. But you’re stiff in his hold. “Come on now,” he encourages, “Y’can even hold my hand f’ya want.”

Joel holds his free hand out to you, still moving your hip with the other. He knows how vulnerable and exposed you feel right now. Taking his hand, your other gripping the headboard once more, you still can’t meet his eyes, Instead you squeeze them shut, your hips following the guidance of his grip.

“Why you bein’ quiet?” he asks, “Need to hear ya.”

Complying with his request, you let out a shaky and small moan. More of a whisper, really. He hums in approval, encouraging you to be louder. You’re starting to build a pace and find your courage, at least a little.

When you let out a real moan, a real sound of pleasure, Joel squeezes your hip. “Ohh, there it is. Good girl,” he coos, “Good fuckin’ girl.”

It’s instantaneous, the way his praise goes right to your core. You’re rocking your hips faster now, adjusting yourself to find a better angle. You can feel your own slick beneath you on the fabric of Joel’s pillow, wetting your thighs and your ass. His hand grips your own firmly, holding you steady, reminding you that he’s here with you.

Joel smirks as you move on your own accord. He lets go of your hip to explore your stomach and your torso with his palms, his fingertips dancing along the underside of your breasts. He sits up to get closer to you, tweaking one of your nipples beneath his fingers and sucking the other into his mouth, licking and swirling his tongue around the peaked bud. You tangle your fingers in his salt and pepper curls, tugging the strands as you ride his pillow.

This is all he wanted. To watch you leave your mark on his clothes, in his bed, on his walls. He pulls away from you and watches you in admiration, moaning softly when he finally presses his palm against his bulge. He undoes his jeans and pushes both them and his boxers down his thighs, then removes his shirt. He grips his cock tightly, biting down on his moans as he gazes at you with lust in his eyes. He thinks you’re getting close now. Your hips are beginning to stutter in their movements, you’re getting quiet now like you’re concentrating on your pleasure, your body’s tensing up. He’s been so focused on you, he’s forgotten all about the fact that this is supposed to be your punishment for trespassing.

Fuck. The punishment.

Joel doesn’t have a clue how he’ll punish you as he lurches forward, kneels behind you and pulls your arms from the headboard. He hopes he’ll find the answer along the way. All he knows is that you’re not coming, not yet. Especially not by your own doing. Yeah, that’ll work, he thinks. He’ll bring you to the brink of orgasm, make you beg and apologize before finally letting you come. Maybe he’ll not even let you come, he’ll see how he’s feeling as time progresses

Joel holds your arms behind your back in one hand and you yelp in surprise, then he adjusts his placement and pulls you back by your legs until you’re prone on his bed. “Up, sweetheart, up,” he mumbles, lifting your hips and pulling his pillow back, propping your ass up for him. The dampness of your arousal on his pillow feels warm and sticky against your tummy.

He palms your ass, squeezing and kneading the flesh before parting your cheeks with his thumbs. He runs a single digit through your soft, slick folds, humming as you tremble beneath his touch. You’re so wet. “What a fuckin’ mess,” he purrs, pressing his middle finger against your entrance, circling it before pushing inside. You keen into his touch, arching your back for him.

“Joel,” you whine as he pulls his finger out.

“Do you know what a mess you made?” He doesn’t bother letting you attempt to respond, you’re way too addled for his touch to answer his question coherently. Joel dips his tongue between your sensitive folds, replacing his fingers. Just like how he touched you moments prior, he traces your entrance with a pointed tongue before dipping it into your heat. Your arousal is like honey, so thick and sweet on his lips.

He tastes you, savors you as he kisses your cunt. He’s lapping through your slick folds, his tongue parting all of your sensitive flesh, sensitive just for him. You can feel the wiry hairs of his beard tease your clit before he dips his lower, circling and flicking your bud with the muscle. He sucks it between his lips, making you squirm and writhe in pleasure. “Joel, oh my god.”

Your fantasies of Joel were never like this, never so indulgent. He’s sucking at your clit, then licking, nipping at your folds, before focusing his attention back to that bud. You’re moaning, pushing your ass back and grinding against his mouth, feeling his aquiline nose tease your hole. He’s buried between your most private place, his tongue flicking and swirling with such fervor. You’re biting into his sheets and seeing stars when he enters you with his fingers once more, curling them into that sweet spot inside of you.

You’re bucking against his face, your slick soaking his fingers to the knuckle, spilling into his palm. His fingers’ movements don’t falter as he pulls his mouth away from your cunt, trailing kisses over the crease where your ass meets your thigh. “You’re close, aren’t you?”

“I’m so close,” you answer through a gasp.

Joel kisses up your ass cheek, “How many times did you make yourself come in my bed?”

“Twice,” you reply. You’ll answer any question he asks now.

“Only twice?”

“Tonight.”

“Ohh,” Joel says. “Twice tonight. How ‘bout in total?”

You don’t know the answer. Of course you don’t. He’s doing the math in his head as he fingers you. He’s thinking at least twice a night, twice a week. This venture of yours has probably been taking place over a couple of weeks. So that’s…more than enough, he decides. “Yeah, ‘course you don’t know. S’lot though, hm?” He lifts his face to watch you nod. “In that case, m’not sure that you need to come again.”

“I do,” you whine, “I need it, Joel.”

“You want it–” Joel pulls his hand from your core and you cry at the loss. God, you wish his mouth was back there. “You be good to me and I’ll consider it.”

Joel pumps his cock momentarily behind you before he nudges a knee between your thighs. “Wider,” he instructs, leaning over you from behind. He brackets your thighs with his own, one hand on your waist as he notches the tip of his cock inside of you. He doesn’t yet push all the way in, though. Instead, he waits as you squirm and arch your back for him, trying to take more than what he’s giving you. You whine in frustration. “Easy, now,” he warns. “Should ask permission. Nicely.”

“Please, Joel,” you say, “Fuck me.”

“Yeah, there you go,” he praises, working into your body. You sigh in satisfaction as he buries himself in you fully, his tuft of coarse curls scratching against the skin of your ass. “Wasn’t so hard, hm?”

Joel tightens his grip on your hips, denting his nails into your skin like how you did to his headboard. His thumbs are pressed firmly into your lower back as he begins to roll his hips into you. The way he thrusts so languidly into you makes your head fuzzy, the only thought you can focus on being the sensation of his thick cock parting your insides. He’s fucking you steadily now, and you can feel the skin of his thick, pillowy tummy caressing your back with every stroke. Fuck, how good he feels.

He fucks you apart, setting a steady rhythm. Joel knows how much you needed him, how much you wanted him before now. How you love it, how it’s nothing but pure pleasure that makes up your whimpers and gasps and the tears on your cheek. He leans lower, covering your hand with his own and intertwining his fingers between yours. You shiver as he tugs your earlobe between his teeth, then licks and kisses your ear, his mustache tickling your skin as his nose nudges your temple gently. He takes a moment to kiss away your tears and rests his arm around the crown of your head, caressing your hair before fucking you wildly.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it, sweetheart?”

“So good,” you choke out.

You can feel Joel’s grin against the shell of your ear. “Just how you imagined when you were fuckin’ yourself on my pillow, hm?” he purrs.

“Better,” your answer is honest.

“Yeah, I know,” he says, “Good answer, sweetheart.”

He curls one of his forearms beneath your bicep, reaching for your breast and tweaking, pinching you as he wraps his other arm around you, searching for your pussy with his hand. He finds your sensitive bundle of nerves and draws lazy patterns over it, teasing you. You’re so wet. So slick, your pussy gushing with each stroke of his cock deep inside you. The sounds of your slick and skin slapping skin are lewd, obscene as he pounds his hips against your body. He’s grunting, gasping in your ear. It sends shivers down your spine.

You’re twitching and bucking your hips, chasing that tightness beginning to build in your tummy. “Easy,” he murmurs. “Let me take my time with you.” He knows how desperate you are to come, but Joel makes you wait a little longer, feel the burn some more.

You’re whining and squirming as Joel fucks you, his face buried against your neck the hair on his cheeks scratch you. He’s biting, nipping at your skin as you let out your breathy little moans. In every inch of his body, he feels it–that power he holds, knowing you’re aching to come on his cock and it’s all because of him, it’s all for him.

His cock is beginning to twitch and he’s feeling that warm, sticky feeling in his gut and deep in his balls, he’s not lasting much longer now. He fucks you harder. “What about now, huh?” he grunts, “Should I let you come now?”

“Yeah,” you moan. “Yes. Let me, let me.”

“Then ask me,” he whispers, momentarily slowing his pace. He draws in and out of you slowly as he speaks, “S’all I wanted you to do, just ask me.”

“Please let me come, Joel,” you ask.

“Good girl,” He brings his hand to your face, shoving his fingers past your lips. You know what he wants, no need for his instruction. You’re moaning, sucking on the digits as he fucks you, the motion of his thrusts grinding your clit into his warm palm. Joel feels you begin to tense up as you choke on his fingers. “There you go, let go, let go f’me. You’re alright,” he coos. “Come for me. I’ve got you.”

You’re stiffening underneath him, eyes screwing shut as you let yourself go. You come on his cock and against the calloused palm of his hand, ecstasy washing over you in thick, electrifying waves. Joel watches your face closely, he memorizes your cries of pleasure and how you convulse beneath him. He’s fucking wrecked you.

You’re gurgling on Joel’s fingers that are still in his mouth as he slides his other hand away from your cunt in favor of resting it up high by your head. It’s his turn for release now. He’s without a thought when his hips begin to stutter as they lose their rhythm, the frenetic slamming of his body against yours indicating his closeness. He lets out a symphony of grunts and moans into your ear as he comes inside you, painting your insides with his spend, milking himself entirely. You take it all, everything he gives you, whining at the overstimulation and the way his release makes you feel so warm and full. Your cunt is slippery with his come as his thrusts begin to slow, slow some more until he stills inside you completely, resting on top of you. With a groan, he pulls out to admire his work, to watch how your combined arousal spills on his sheets. He uses two fingers to push some of his escaped come back inside you.

You stay laying on your tummy as you cross your forearms to use as a pillow to rest your head. Joel meets you on his bed, also laying on his tummy. You hadn’t even realized he undressed himself.

He reaches over to caress your cheek, then your flannel-covered back. “Nice touch,” he murmurs. “S’pretty on you.”

“Smells like you,” you confess quietly. “Turns me on.”

Joel makes an amused face as he nods. His eyes are sparkly but sleepy and your cheeks are warm, you bite down on a shy and embarrassed smile. He smirks at that. “So bashful,” he purrs. “You’re welcome to use my home and wear my clothes for your dirty work any time you like,” he says. “Just invite me every now and then.”

If you enjoyed, please leave me a comment, rb, or send me an ask, tell me your thoughts. Your kind words and engagement keep me motivated to write

#strang3lov3 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #the last of us hbo #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal characters

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loonylupinblack3 · 2 months

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Heyy! I absolutely adore your work and I was wondering if I could make a request? A Logan x reader fic where they’re out at a bar and the reader is on the shy side, so when Logan steps aside and a sleazy man tries to get handsy with her, she doesn’t really know what to do. Logan steps in though, protective and fuming. Hope this makes sense!

If not, no worries at all and I hope you have a wonderful day, love!! 💗💗

My Hero

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: sleazy man being sleazy, the blatant ignorance of consent, small amount of violence, swearing

Word count: 2k

A/N: hope you enjoy anon <3

You hated big social events. They were your worst nightmare. You hated the amount of people everywhere and the talking and the strangers and all of it. You much preferred one on one, with people you knew and trusted.

Social events just made you uncomfortable. You couldn’t act like other people could. You weren’t easy to talk to or excited to meet strangers. You were awkward and your words came out stilted. You needed a script to follow when speaking to people, and any straying from that script left you vulnerable, confused and scared.

So safe to say these social outings the X men insisted on having weren’t your thing. They claimed it would improve team relationships by completing fun activities together, yet everyone had decided getting drunk at a club was the best fun activity.

You were strongly opposed but it was mandatory, so with incredible reluctance you let your boyfriend drag you to the club, promising to spend the whole night with you and not have a single drink.

Knowing Logan, that was a big promise, and also knowing him as your boyfriend, you knew he’d keep his word. He knew how uncomfortable you got in big groups of people, and he enjoyed the idea of helping you, of being the reason you could bear it.

When you arrived a feeling of dread washed over you, thudding music coming from the warehouse-looking building, and fractures of bright light escaping through the cracks of the door. Logan put his arm around your waist, pulling you close, and you revelled in the safety you felt from it, sticking close as you entered the club.

Loud noise immediately assaulted your senses, and you scrunched up your face as your ears screamed in protest. The music was blaring through speakers dotted all over the room, blasting you to near deafness.

You moved closer to Logan, the man tightening his grip on you. “You alright?”

His voice, barely heard over the loud music, was still a huge relief to you, your beating heart easing slightly. You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m not dying.”

He laughed at your words, his body shaking in the process. You smiled, as you always did whenever you made Logan smile or laugh, a small sense of pride flaring inside you. The good feeling helped you push forward, finding a seat at the bar. Logan sat right next to you as he said he would, and when the bartender inquired what drinks you both wanted he settled for soft drinks for both of you.

You smiled into your hands, feeling slightly giddy that he kept his word even though you knew he was going to. It was something about him deciding not to drink on one of his only nights out because it would better comfort you that made you so delighted.

Logan gently pried your hands away from your face with a smirk. “If I’m not drinking tonight you may as well let me reap the rewards for it. I wanna see that pretty smile of yours.”

Of course those words only made your smile widened, heat rushing to your cheeks at the compliment, and Logan stared with unwavering focus, a smug smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“You’re insufferable,” you mumbled, looking away.

Logan chuckled, hands snaking to your waist. “You know you love me.”

Unable to resist you turned to look at him, eyes gazing at his features, memorising every blemish on his skin. “Yeah, I do.”

Logan grinned widely at your confession, though you’ve said those words many times before. He just seemed to get a sense of satisfaction every time you spoke them, a reminder that you really did love him, and that you were his.

The sounds of commotion took your attention away, and you heard Scott’s raised voice but couldn’t spot him through the crowd, nor decipher what he was saying. Logan’s brows creased in concern and he looked like he wanted to go check it out, but loyalty to you and his promise to stay by your side stilled his restless body.

“Go,” you urged him, knowing he wanted to check up on his friend. “I’ll be fine here for a few minutes.”

He hesitated still, loyalty to two different people warring inside him. At your sincere expression, however, he leaned in close, pressing a kiss to your forehead and whispering a promise of returning soon before he disappeared into the crowd.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, turning back to the bar and staring at your brightly coloured fizzy drink, though you didn’t take a sip. You hoped Logan would be back soon, for though all your talk of being able to handle yourself you still felt vulnerable and alone, even in a room packed full of people.

“All alone there Missy?”

Your head whipped to the side to the source of the question, finding a man much older than you leaning on the bar, eyeing you appreciatively.

You shifted about nervously, swallowing thickly. You hated talking to strangers. “Um, no, I have a few friends here.”

The man raised his eyebrows, making a show of looking around the bar before zeroing back on you. “So then where are they?”

You felt uncomfortable that he was still talking to you and pathetically shrugged your shoulders. “They said they’d be back soon.”

The man nodded, humming slightly before sidling closer to you. As you were seated you couldn’t very well move away, but you longed to when you smelt the alcoholic tang on the man’s breath.

“The name’s Hiram,” he spoke, using a hand to ruffle his hair slightly.

You thought he looked ridiculous.

“Y/n,” you murmured quietly instead, because you weren’t sure what else to say.

The man, Hiram, seemed to take that as an invitation to move closer, his breath in your face and hand on your shoulder. You tried to lightly shake it off but he had a vice grip, fingers uncomfortably digging into your skin.

“Why don’t we leave this place Y/n?” he offered, hand trailing to your lower back.

You were extremely uncomfortable as of this moment and was grasping for something to say to make the man leave you alone.

“Please let go of me,” was your meek response, feeling both foolish and defenceless.

The man scoffed, hand moving to hold your arm in a tight grip. “Listen Y/n, let’s just have some fun ‘kay? You don’t need to make it a big deal.”

You ignored him, tugging your arm out of his hand and sliding off the stool, intending to search for Logan. The man was fast though, his slimy arm wrapping around your waist and jerking you towards him.

An icky, sickly feeling overtook you, the overwhelming sense of fear flooding your senses. You didn’t want this grimy man’s hands on you and certainly didn’t want his revolting breath in your face. You wanted to be home curled up on your bed with a book in hand, your boyfriend’s arms wrapped around you and his chin resting gently on your head as he read over your shoulder.

This was not what you wanted, but you’d told him that and he’d ignored it so you didn’t know what you were supposed to do now.

“Please, leave me alone-” you pleaded, desperately trying to tug yourself away from him.

He groaned like you were the one being difficult, tightening his grip on your waist to the point it was painful. “It won’t even be for that long-”

“She said leave her alone.”

Relief bloomed in your chest, even with the dirty man’s fingers still digging into your flesh. Hiram turned to look over his shoulder, eyes widened slightly at the sight of Logan towering over him, a white fury in his eyes.

He didn’t bow out immediately, however, which took guts, because a lesser man would have taken one glance at the fuming look on Logan’s face and bolted.

“C’mon man, just having some fun,” Hiram laughed, hand sliding lower down your waist.

Logan noted the movement, his jaw clicking as he stared at Hiram like he was his next meal. “You get the fuck away from her or I’ll make you.”

The man scoffed, taking a step forward, and then suddenly was on the floor, a cry of pain coming from his lips as he cradled his now broken nose. Logan moved forward, stepping on the man’s fingers as he did so, a sickening crack accompanying the action, before he was in front of you and wrapping you up in his arms.

“M’so sorry Bub,” he murmured. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”

You shook your head but was grateful he was here, burrowing your head into his chest in an attempt to escape it all. “Can we go home?”

Logan was already leading you to the exit. “Of course. The others’ll understand.”

You were grateful as Logan drove you home, but you couldn’t get the feeling of the man’s grimy hands off you. You felt dirty, tainted, like he’d wiped mud on you and you needed to clean it off. Logan noticed your unease as you entered your shared room, and inquired gently as to what the matter was.

When you confessed your feelings, describing the awful ickiness crawling up your arms, and the phantom touch of the man’s hands imprinted upon your skin, Logan gently took your hand and led you to the bathroom, where he started filling the bathtub full of warm water, adding the strawberry essence you liked so much. He beckoned you to get into the tub and you did gently, taking each piece of clothing off and feeling the man’s hold more deeply, like he was still touching you beneath your clothes.

It made you want to cry as you sat in the tub, knees to your chest. That was until you felt Logan’s hands, marred from centuries of violence, rub your skin with the softest touch, soap coating his fingers. The realisation that he was washing you, delicately cleaning every spot of your skin with his hands, was too much to bear and the tears started falling, but Logan just kissed them all away as he continued cleaning you.

Bit by bit he cleaned you off, making sure no part of you was untouched, wiping the man away from your body. You felt relief and an undying amount of love and gratitude for the man before you. It was hard to imagine him as the formidable Wolverine, because right now he was caring for you with such gentleness you were putty in his hands.

Fully cleaned off, the man’s hold a distant memory, Logan dried you off and dressed you in one of his shirts, knowing you felt safe with your body swamped in his clothes. He then gently carried you bridal style into your bedroom, holding you with a softness you hadn’t known he possessed.

He tucked you in the sheets, made sure you were the utmost comfortable before sliding in beside you, immediately pulling you to him, your back to his chest, and just holding you. You couldn’t have asked for a better moment, and gratefully melted into his embrace, feeling the safest you had all night.

“I love you Sweatheart,” he murmured into your hair, pressing a kiss to prove his words.

A delightful shiver ran down your spine at the action and you sighed in contentment, moving further into his embrace. Things were now as they should be, the two of you wrapped up in each other as the night slowly crept by. In the morning you’d wake up to your head in the crook of Logan’s neck like it always ended up, your limbs tangled together and breathing in sync.

For now though you let your eyes droop, a smile on your lips as you whispered, “I love you too.”

Logan held you a bit tighter after the words, a desperate feeling of love and awe overcoming him, and gently brushed your hair as you fell asleep, before he eventually followed suit, with you in his arms like you were supposed to be.

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine x reader #wolverine fic #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine #wolverine x you #james howlett x reader #x men #xmen #xmen fic #x men x reader #x men fanfiction #x men fic

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shiningstages · 2 years

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Not gonna be here again this weekend, but I just wanna pop in and say that the Love Live Musical girls sound so good;; I wish I could see them live frfr;;

#;big bubble blowing baby! ( ooc )#( i mean i wish i could've seen all the groups live frfr but like...they are a musical...legit can only see them live fgjfhdjghdhgx #that being said #hopefully!!!!!!!! soon i'll be here for real #i should've known that Only being surrounded by my brother would make me really unmotivated #to be fair he's been really good about kind of trying to give me my space #but i can't really write with Any noise on #and i wanted to be at the desk; but he's listening to tv and doing the dishes...so i give up ghfghfjgchf #'go to your room then' no i'm stubborn and want to be at The Desk!!!!!!#every time i tried to write too he'd be nearby.......even for school things he has this ability to just come over and talk to me #and then i get irrationally annoyed so i just watch vids and play rf5 instead of work gfhgfghfjgxhd #speaking of work though!!!! actually trying to figure out my Bonus Stage of college (i'm calling it this now)#and i have!!!!! multiple plans!!!!!!#i still need to look at the college i'm at right now; and double check to see if one program somewhere else is online or not #but any way i stretch it!!!!!! creative / script writing things will happen!!!!!!!#my biggest thing is i don't wanna move........if the place i really wanna do this at is campus-only.....byebye #though i do like my backup plan a lot too which is a relief #i wanna do a lil something for my community college choir though...before i Leave; you know........#i'm gonna go to winter concert but like.............i feel like i should do More )

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nvuy · 6 months

Text

so… about that drink you ordered — boothill

summary. boothill has a pity party at a bar and notices a familiar face that he wants to smash into two.

notes. sort of requested official unofficial sequel sort of to hijacked. you can read this stand alone. not saying you should, though. teehee. this is so uninspired. i just like this concept a lot. i also just like rivals to lovers. i’m also riding on the coattails of the “boothill is largely illiterate.” whether it’s actually canon or not who knows. let me be. he’s still not released LMAOOOO.

warnings. the usual banter, little bit of threatening, but nothing major.

Boothill was at a loss. The mission was a bust, there was no response from La Mancha, and the dreamscape was beginning to grind his gears. So many loud noises, the poster signs were following him around, and this so-called SoulGlad was not as good as it was advertised to be.

This bar sucked, too. The bartender had been giving him the stink eye for the better half of an hour now. It probably wasn’t appropriate to sick him right in the face for it, break his nose, and give him a beating.

The bartender wasn’t scrawny, though. Some big bulk of meat with tired eyes, scruff and mousy brown hair. His chest looked like it was about to pop the buttons of his vest. Dude looks absolutely repressed. Probably works minimum wage.

The bartender abandons a blue inky pen and his notebook that Boothill snoops in. Nothing interesting. Just pages of tabs and tabs of people he doesn’t know, nor care about.

There’s music from the stereos in the corners, though surprisingly, considering it’s not a club—that one is next door. It’s a conjoined building. The only thing seperating the bar and the VIP private rooms of the club is a wall and a locked door. Comforting—and Boothill would have lost his mind already.

It’s also dark. Granted, it’s two in the morning, but the low lights can’t be good for normal people. Not to mention the group of women in the corner that have been hoarding the few slot machines for about thirty minutes now.

Every so often, a chime will go off, and one of them will start busting into tears.

He’s here alone. Not for any particular reason. He’s waiting for a response from somebody, and what better way to pass the time than people watch and pretend he’s not nosy.

Also he feels super important sitting at the counter of the bar.

He almost jumps at a whisper in his ear.

A reddish drink in a ribbed coupe glass is gently dropped onto the counter space beside him. There’s a cucumber slice on the rim, and it also looks like it’s been dusted with sugar.

Boothill turns his nose up. Gross.

The bartender glances at the figure who slots into the seat next to the ranger. “Can I get you something else?”

“Hard whiskey.”

Huh. His eyes snapped to the right. Very familiar. Almost unnervingly so. Just in case, he scoots himself away by an inch, sitting closer to the edge of the barstool.

The bartender blinks, unsure as he pulls a tumbler from the rack. “For you?”

A finger prods the Ranger’s cheek. “For him.”

There’s a zap from the finger, like a small electric shock. Like static charged from the friction of the weird material of the barstools.

“Thanks, Gal.”

“No amount of flirting is gonna make me clear your tab,” Gallagher warned before sliding the whiskey over to the Ranger. Boothill had barely moved, now acutely aware of his own face plastered on a wanted poster behind the bartender’s head. “Try not showin’ up here frequently. Bad for my image if I keep serving crooks.” He points to the Ranger, and then to you. “Both of you.”

The bartender then is called over by a group of women who are giggling at a booth in the corner.

Boothill was sure he was going to lean forward and scrap with you over the counter. He could already feel the terse skin of your neck in his hands.

“You followin’ me?”

“You followed me first,” you say harshly.

The ranger let out a laugh before picking up his drink. “It was only a job. If you got offended, that’s your problem.” He then holds the glass close. “You g’nna do that thing again?”

“‘Thing?’” you repeated.

There was a smug grin on your face. You rested the chin in the palm of your hand.

Oh. He was so going to throw you over the counter and smash a bottle over your head. “Y’know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout. Don’t play stupid.”

You took a sip of your drink.

“Boop.”

Your finger pressed to his chest. You snickered when he stared down at the brief flashing of yellow beneath his joints.

Then, you flit your finger upwards and flick his nose.

He grabs your hand with the intent of pulling it from its socket.

“Now, that’s a dangerous game to play,” you remind him. “I’ve got you in my hands, remember?” Your free hand lets go of your glass, and there’s a small flash of yellow light on the pads of the gloves on your hands. A flicker is all it takes to showcase his entire makeup in your palm. You spin it slowly for good measure.

Then, the image disappears and you snatch your wrist from his hand.

“What do you want?” Boothill mutters. He’s absentmindedly staring into his drink while swishing it around. The ice cubes softly tap against the glass.

“Insight. You’re a Galaxy Ranger, right?” He can’t lie to you anyway. You pretty much know everything about him. Your main profession is definitely stalking and being a thorn in his side. Your fingers held his chin up softly. “Tell me about it.”

He blinks, dazed. “That’s it?”

“No.”

He removes your hand from his chin. He holds his glass protectively. “Then quit pullin’ my leg. Cut to the good bit.”

You sigh. “You’re no fun. Do you come to bars just to mope?” You pull a dramatic frown for good measure.

“Do you come to bars to piss everyone off?” he shoots back. Despite his tone, his fingers are gentle around the glass. Any more firm a hold, and the drink would shatter and spill all over the counter.

You grin.

You tap his nose again. “Just you.” Then, you shake your head. “I’m here ‘cause I got a bar crush.” You then point to a table behind Boothill’s head in the corner. “Blondie with the nice eyes and the rings.”

After a moment's hesitation, the ranger turns and follows your finger.

Sure enough, you’re not convincing him to spin around so you can shove your hand into his sockets. There is a blond man at a table dressed in green, winking at an opponent over a game of… poker? Is that poker? The game with the chips and stuff. And dice, too. They’re thrown over a board, and there’s a couple of people who have tuned in to watch the entire thing unfold.

“His name is Aventurine. Or, that’s a code name, I think. He’s Sigonian. Works for the IPC, incredibly insecure, has a gambling addiction, needs to eat lead…” You stopped short, counting on your fingers as Boothill turns back to you. “Isn’t he dreamy?”

Boothill narrows his eyes at you. “Do you know everything about everyone?”

You shrug. “Pretty much, yeah.” Then, you make a noise. “Eh, I’m lying. Lots of people are boring. I only know the basics ‘bout most of ‘em. It’s the higher ups I’m interested in. Case in point–” You gestured to the blond man again, now scanning over his cards. “–Mister Big Shot. And all his loser coworkers. I don’t like the IPC.”

Boothill quietly sips his drink.

At least you can both agree on something.

He wants to yawn. He doesn’t have the function to do that anymore.

You talk too much.

He cuts you off, and fiddles with a few buttons on his arm. “What can you tell me–” A small image of a woman projects into view from a small lens near his wrist. “–About her?”

You lean closer to the image. Pretty.

She has lovely purple hair and eyes to match. It’s an unassuming photo. She’s not even looking at the camera, not even close to it. She’s standing next to a little boy with sparkling eyes and a uniform that starkly resembles the hotel staff in the waking world of Penacony—oh, the bellboy. You forgot his name.

You hum. “What’s her name?”

“Acheron.” He spits it nastily, as if tasting vitriol on his tongue.

You lean back against the counter. “I’d have to dig deeper. Can’t say I’ve seen her around before.”

“Well, that’s disappointin’,” he huffs before the image shrinks and disappears back into the lens. “Thought you were better than that.”

Your brows knit together.

“Are you trying to rile me up?” It was working. Curse you and your hot-head. It would get you killed one day.

Boothill grins.

Then, he raises his glass to you. “Yep.”

You wanted to pull him apart right there, like a doll.

Instead, you whisper, “tell me about La Mancha.”

Boothill casually sips the whiskey. “What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll dig up whatever I can find about that Acheron girl.”

Boothill then lets out a small giggle. “I already know who she is.” He wasn’t lying either. You could tell by how he grinned. “I was testin’ ya.”

Oh, great. He’s figured you out again. Not that there’s much to decode beneath the layer of self-doubt and hostility.

You could feel your face burning.

He grabs your cheeks before you can turn away.

“You ain’t here ‘cause you got some ‘puppy crush,’” he accused playfully, squishing your skin like it’s clay. “You already told me ya know everything about blondie. Who’re you really here for?”

He’s not stupid.

He’s also twirling a lock of his hair around his finger.

God damnit.

Your fingers curled tightly around the rim of your glass. The cucumber slice has since fallen into the cosmopolitan, and it’s giving the entire drink a strange watery taste.

The bar carries on. There’s a hoot from the table with blondie, who’s now, since the last time you stared daggers into the side of his head, collected some more of his poor opponent’s chips.

You pull your face from his grip. “Nobody.”

“Not even me?” Boothill presses. “You seem to love followin’ me around. In and out the dreamscape.”

You grit your teeth.

“The bartender,” you mutter finally. “I’m here for the bartender.” Currently, Gallagher is half asleep on the other side of the counter, trying to negotiate with some drunkard over the pricing of a scotch.

You eye him warily for a moment.

“There it is.” He pats your head like a dog. “Knew you’d come ‘round, pumpkin.”

You’re trembling with rage. “Kiss my ass, you cyborg scum.” You were considering throwing a punch at his perfect face.

“Rude.” Boothill flicks your nose back and you grunt. “I’m tryin’ to be nice wit’ you. You followed me here.”

You wanted to leave now. He sucks when he knows he has the upper hand, even if he’s well aware you can make his arms tear his own head off.

But you’re not going to do that. You need him. You made that clear.

The sound of a slot machine goes off somewhere to the right. There's cheering from a bunch of women.

You turn back and stare at the wall of liquor behind the bar. Maybe you should just knock yourself out. Whether by downing an entire bottle of bourbon or smashing it over your head. It was a hard choice to make.

You watch him through your peripherals, noticing he’s pinched a napkin from the pile on the counter.

“Lookin’ very pretty tonight, by the way. Hard to keep my eyes off ya.” He was writing something down with the pen from before. “If you were anyone else, I woulda had to take ya home. ‘Specially after ya bought me a drink.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome.” Then, you pause. “Excuse me?”

Boothill folds the napkin into a square and holds it to your lips. “Open.”

“You are not–”

Too late. He’s pushed it to your teeth, and you instinctively clamp down on it.

Oh, this sucks. This sucks bad.

He knows it, too, from the way he’s grinning at you like a shark and snickering.

He presses his warm lips to your cheek. The scent of whiskey faintly wafts in the air.

You stupidly freeze, hands curled around his wrists when his cold hands tilt your head so the tip of his tongue can press to the corner of your lips. You could stop him. You could.

You didn’t.

You smell like strawberry, the same as that other night. You look just as good, too. Shame you haven’t put anything on your lips. He would’ve loved to be stained a nice pink again.

He slides his whiskey next to you.

Then, he finishes what’s left of your drink. Dickhead. “I’ll be ‘round if ya need me.” He taps your nose and stands up. “You know where to find me.”

With a tilt of his hat, he leaves.

You pull the napkin from your teeth. Are you serious?

Face burning with humiliation, you hastily unfold the tissue, fingers shaking around the glass of whiskey. It’s heavy on your tongue; disgusting, bitter, everything you’d use to describe that stupid cowboy and his abomination of a body.

Scrawled in blue ink is a line of numbers. It looked suspiciously like a phone number.

Below it in blocky letters are the words: Keep In touc H. ♡

There’s a crudely drawn horse with a hat in the corner.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #boothill x reader #boothill #hsr x you #✦ ( the macrocosmos. )

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solarmorrigan · 10 months

Note

For the angst prompt thing: Steddie and "Don't fucking touch me."

Hello! Thank you very much for sending a prompt, I'm sorry it took me so long to post, but I do think this one is my favorite out of all the fills I've done for this prompt list <3

[No warnings; Unnamed Freak (who apparently got a name in the most recent novel, but I didn't know that at the time) is named Oliver]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

“I’m gonna step outside for a minute,” Steve leans in to murmur in Eddie’s ear, even though the music isn’t that loud.

“Yeah, sounds good.” Eddie nods, and only just keeps himself from turning to catch Steve’s mouth in a kiss when he feels the brush of his lips against his ear; it’s not his fault he’s developed some kind of Pavlovian association between having Steve’s mouth anywhere near his skin and receiving kisses – but they do have company.

Said company is just Gareth, Jeff, and Oliver, but still. Eddie has some decorum.

Steve stands from the couch and the arm he’d had slung around Eddie’s shoulders slides away slowly, his hand brushing warm and heavy over the back of Eddie’s neck, thumb stroking once, familiarly, along the side of his throat before disappearing entirely as Steve moves towards the front door. He doesn’t do so great with groups of people in small spaces anymore; the noise gets to him, and the heat generated by so many bodies in close proximity tends to give him a headache, so he takes breaks now and then, just to give his brain a few minutes to unbend.

The door swings open on silent hinges (Steve had attacked it with a can of WD-40 and a look of determination earlier today, insisting he couldn’t stand the squeaking anymore; he’s always doing things like that around the house – little repairs, organizing, picking things up, even though Eddie insists he doesn’t have to. He says he wants to, the endearing little weirdo) and Steve steps out into the cool evening, leaving Eddie and the boys behind in the warm light of the trailer’s main room.

“So,” Jeff says, looking up from his spot on the floor and gesturing vaguely at Eddie with his beer can, “how’s that going for you guys?”

Eddie blinks at him. “How’s what going?”

“The whole thing between you two,” Jeff clarifies, and Eddie raises a skeptical brow at him.

“You wanna talk about me and Steve having sex?” Eddie asks.

Jeff’s nose scrunches in distaste. “What? No.”

“Not ever,” Gareth jumps in.

“I mean…” Oliver says with a shrug, flinching when Gareth pelts him with a balled-up napkin.

“No,” Gareth reiterates.

“I refuse to apologize for simple curiosity,” Oliver sniffs, and Eddie, seated next to him on the couch, gives him a shove.

He’s glad his friends are accepting – supportive, even (he’d like to say he wouldn’t hang out with them if they weren’t, but let’s be real: nerds could be hard to come by in their neck of the woods, and as long as they were the quiet type of homophobic, Eddie would probably still play D&D with them. But he’s glad they’re not), but he does have some boundaries.

Like, one or two, maybe.

“I just meant the whole… dating thing,” Jeff says, taking a sip from his beer. “Because I’ll be honest, I really didn’t see it at first, but it actually seems to be working out.”

“Dating?” Eddie parrots blankly.

“Yeah. You guys are in, like, some kind of never-ending honeymoon phase or some shit,” Gareth says. “Hasn’t it been over two months?”

“Uhhh, no, I think you gentlemen are confused,” Eddie drawls. “Steve and I are not dating.”

This declaration is met with a moment of silence.

“Seriously?” Oliver finally says.

“Yep,” Eddie replies easily. “No relationship shit here. Strictly a friends-with-benefits-type deal.”

“Seriously,” Olver says again, flatly this time.

“Yes, Oliver, seriously,” Eddie huffs, reaching over to give him another shove, only to have his hand pushed away.

“Eddie, he was practically sitting in your lap just now,” Jeff says. “You two are all over each other.”

“Constantly,” Gareth adds.

Eddie shrugs. “It’s not like this is a big couch; we gotta squish. Anyway, Steve’s just a touchy kind of guy.”

“He doesn’t sit like that with any of us,” Gareth points out.

“Yeah, well, you guys aren’t the ones receiving benefits,” Eddie says. “You want him to sit on your lap? You could ask.”

Gareth lets his head hang back with a noise of frustration. “That’s not the point, and you know it.”

“Don’t you two go on dates?” Jeff asks. “I’ve seen you at the movies. You talk about going out to eat, doing other shit…”

“Yeah, see, that’s the friends part of friends with benefits,” Eddie snarks. “Friends hang out sometimes, I’ve been told. We are all, in fact, hanging out right now, but that doesn’t mean I’m dating any of you.”

“You don’t see the way he looks at you?” Oliver asks, and Eddie can’t help but scoff.

He appreciates the fact that Oliver is passionate about pretty much anything he does, but it also means he’s given to romanticizing. He doesn’t usually manage to drag Jeff or Gareth in with him, though.

“Pretty sure he looks at me like a friend, because that’s what we are.” Eddie rolls his eyes before offering a smarmy little grin. “I mean, I’m sure he looks at me as an exceptionally attractive friend, but that’s it.”

“Genuinely can’t tell if you’re fucking with us, man,” Jeff says, rolling his eyes.

“Genuinely, I am not,” Eddie promises, taking the last viable swallow from his beer before getting up and heading for the kitchen, wiggling his empty can at the others with a raised eyebrow in question. Gareth raises his own near-empty can with a shrug and Eddie nods. “Look,” he says as he ducks towards the fridge, “Steve isn’t the kinda guy you have a relationship with, anyway, you know?”

Eddie doesn’t mean this in a negative way, just as a matter of fact. Steve just doesn’t seem to be a relationship kind of guy. Nancy had been something of an outlier, in how long she and Steve had lasted, and it had become clear after the dust from the Upside Down had settled that he really doesn’t have any interest in pursuing her further. Just the other day, he’d mentioned to Eddie how difficult relationships can be, and about how glad he is they have their thing together instead.

“Being with you is just… easy,” Steve had said; he hadn’t been looking at Eddie at the time, his face instead pillowed on Eddie’s chest, hair sticking to his naked skin where the sweat was still cooling from their last round, but Eddie could see the edge of a smile on his lips.

And Eddie doesn’t have much experience with relationships himself, but he knows that being friends with Steve is easy and that the sex feels equally easy and that the way he’d agreed with Steve and carded his fingers through his hair had sent Steve right to sleep with that same smile still in place.

Easy.

Now, Eddie shoves his head into the fridge and reaches for the beers that have somehow gotten pushed to the back. “It’s nothing major, okay?” he calls back towards the living room.

“Eddie…” Gareth calls back, an edge to his voice.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it.” Eddie waves vaguely, making sure to grab a second beer. “Anyway, Steve’s a good friend, and he’s really hot, and we’re just having fun.”

The bang of the front door against the frame startles Eddie so badly he nearly smacks his head on the underside of the freezer as he stands, a beer clutched in each hand like he might be able to use them as projectiles.

There is no threat, though – just Steve, who had apparently failed to catch the screen door before it had shut too quickly behind him. He doesn’t seem to have noticed; he’s just standing there, staring at Eddie, color rising high in his cheeks, eyes wide and shocked, like he’s just been slapped.

Concern wells up from Eddie’s gut, and he opens to his mouth to ask what’s wrong when Steve finally speaks.

“Yeah,” he croaks, “I’m not having fun.”

Eddie’s brows furrow in confusion, the beginnings of cold dread trickling into his veins well ahead of any conscious thought.

“I think I– I think I should go,” Steve says.

He grabs his keys from the side table by the door, where they’ve lived next to Eddie’s and Wayne’s for the last few months whenever he’s been at the house, and then he’s gone again, the screen door banging shut once more behind him.

And Eddie has no idea what just happened, but he knows it wasn’t good. He drops the beers on the counter and bolts out the door after Steve.

Steve is nearly to his car by the time Eddie scrambles down the front steps, and he’s paying absolutely no attention when Eddie calls after him.

“Steve,” Eddie tries again, stumbling to a stop right behind him as he jams his keys into the driver’s side lock. “Steve, for fuck’s sake, what–” he reaches out, wrapping one hand around Steve’s bicep, and Steve jerks out of his grip.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Steve snaps.

Eddie pulls his hand back, but doesn’t step away, entirely baffled by the sudden turn the evening has taken. “What the hell happened back there?”

Steve goes still, grip going lax on his keys. “I heard what you said, Eddie.”

“About – about what? Are you mad I was talking to them about us sleeping together? Because, Steve, they already knew,” Eddie insists, a little incredulous. “You said you were fine with them knowing! You were practically feeling me up in front of them!”

“I don’t give a shit if they know we’re having sex!” Steve hisses, finally whirling around to look at Eddie. “I meant the rest. About how I’m not the kind of guy you have a relationship with.”

Eddie’s stomach sinks. He hadn’t realized that was such a sensitive subject. “I – shit, I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings, I just didn’t think you wanted–”

“About how we’re just having fun,” Steve cuts in, and if he’d sounded raw before, his voice is practically ground down to nothing now.

That brings Eddie up short. “…aren’t we?” he asks after a moment.

Steve says nothing.

“I mean, shit, Steve, it’s not like we’re in a relationship,” Eddie says, offering a little laugh, because even Steve would have to admit that the idea is a little silly.

Except.

Except Steve just glances away, staring at the ground beside Eddie’s feet, and – oh, shit.

“Oh, shit.”

Steve is still unnervingly silent, one arm curled around his middle while the other hand comes up to pinch briefly at the bridge of his nose. He still won’t look at Eddie.

“You… you thought we were,” Eddie says dumbly, and Steve shrugs.

“Can you blame me? We spend all our time together, Eddie. I’m here more than I’m at my own house, I think I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve slept in my own bed in the last month. We go out and do things together, I try to keep things nice around the house because I want Wayne to like me, we have, like, a lot of sex, and– we… I mean, we kiss and touch and just – do shit like that even when it doesn’t lead anywhere.” Steve shrugs helplessly, finally looking up. “I mean, Christ, Eddie, what did you think we were doing?”

“I thought we were friends!” Eddie insists. Steve throws him an incredulous look and Eddie amends, “With benefits!”

“Right.” Steve’s expression flattens back out, going cold and hard and unlike anything Eddie’s become used to from him. “Because I’m not the kind of guy you’d want to have a relationship with.”

“I said that because I thought you didn’t want to be in a relationship!” Eddie snaps. “It’s not like you stay with anyone for very long, so I just assumed you didn’t want to be with anyone.”

Some of the ice retreats from Steve’s face, leaving a watering kind of hurt in its stead. “Do you listen to me at all when I talk?”

“What? Of course I do!” Eddie might have gotten turned around in certain respects, but he will not have his merits as a friend called into question; of course he listens to Steve.

“Are you sure? Because I talk about you an awful lot. I talk about doing things with you, about doing things in the future with you,” Steve says pointedly, “about how I want to stay with you.”

And Eddie had wanted Steve to stay with him, too. He’s just been thinking – well, he’d thought it was because they get along so well, that Steve had wanted to stick around. That it had only made sense.

“We never talked about… being anything else,” Eddie says, the protest a little weak even to his own ears. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember that.”

Steve pulls a sharp breath in, pinching at the bridge of his nose again; he leaves his hand there this time, eyes scrunched shut. “Just a few days ago, I told you how much I liked being with you. How good and how easy it felt compared to anyone else I’ve ever been with,” he says, barely more than a rough whisper. “And you said…”

I like being with you, too.

Eddie had said that.

He’d meant that he likes being around Steve, likes being his friend, definitely likes having sex with him, but he’d said it while combing his fingers through Steve’s hair, while cuddled up with him in bed, and – okay, yes, he can see the mixed signals there. He can see where Steve might have gotten the idea that they didn’t have an arrangement, that they were just together.

“I– I didn’t mean–”

“Obviously,” Steve snaps, dropping his hand from his face and turning back towards his car.

Eddie tsks, frustrated, and reaches out to grab Steve’s wrist – not pulling, just trying to keep his attention.

“Don’t,” Steve warns him, pulling back from his grasp for a second time.

“I didn’t mean to lead you on,” Eddie tries desperately. “I really… I really didn’t.”

“Yeah. I can see that. But Eddie…” Steve is quiet for a moment, posture so tense and still that Eddie suspects he’s not even breathing. “I’m probably the best-qualified asshole around to tell you that you really have to fucking think about how what you’re doing affects the people around you.”

Somehow, that stings more than any screamed insult Steve could have thrown at him.

“Steve…”

“I’ll come get my shit out of your place tomorrow,” Steve says, low and sharp, before getting into his car and slamming the door behind him.

After that, Eddie has no choice but to step back or get run over, and he watches until Steve’s taillights are no longer visible.

He can hear the hissing of some whispered conversation just beyond the door as he trudges back up the front steps, but his friends fall conspicuously quiet the moment he steps inside.

“…hey,” Gareth finally ventures after several seconds of awkward, sticky silence.

“Hey,” Eddie says flatly.

“Do you… want us to stay?” Jeff asks.

Slowly, Eddie shakes his head. “I think I should… I need to– think about shit.”

The boys all nod, throwing him variously sympathetic glances and clapping him on the shoulder on their way out. Oliver pauses, as if he’s going to say something, but Gareth gives him a shove and gets him out the door before he has the chance. Probably for the best.

Eddie feels numb as he trudges back towards his room, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened.

He flops down on his bed, face landing in a pillow that smells entirely too much like Steve’s shampoo. Probably because it’s on the side of the bed that Steve always takes. Next to the nightstand with the small stack of sports magazines that definitely aren’t Eddie’s. And the spare pair of glasses that also isn’t Eddie’s.

With a low tug in his gut, Eddie realizes how much of Steve’s stuff has crept into his room, into the trailer, into his life – how much Steve has become a part of his life, how much of Eddie’s day has been built around him, how much he’s come to lean on his presence, has come to want him there.

And Steve is going to take it all back sometime soon. Take all of his things away before he removes himself from Eddie’s life, too, because Eddie hadn’t been thinking and he hadn’t been careful and he hadn’t realized–

Eddie’s pretty sure he just broke up with Steve.

He’s also pretty sure he hadn’t wanted to.

His main consolation, as he curls up on his side, nose still buried in Steve’s pillow, is that as soon as Robin hears what happened (and she will hear, he has no doubt), she’ll probably come murder him.

At least he won’t have to wallow for long.

Part 2

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #smallspaceplant #eddiesteve #listen Steve is u-haul lesbian flavored and Eddie is I know we're married but do you like me? lesbian flavored - you feel?#anyway I shouldn't be allowed to use tags on less than six hours of sleep!#answers from solar #solar wrote #hurt no comfort #edit: now with a continuation that will eventually include comfort

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classypauli · 5 months

Text

𝑫𝑶𝑪𝑻𝑶𝑹’𝑺 𝑻𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑴𝑬𝑵𝑻

Part 2

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x fem!Reader

Summary: After so long Tara finally meets you again... only this time a little drunk.

Word count: 3k

It has now been a couple of weeks since visiting the hospital. People would think that Tara has already forgotten about what happened but the opposite is true. In those weeks there wasn´t a day she would not think about you. Her mind was repeating what happened and everytime a smile grew on her face. Mindy and Chad started to make fun of her, saying she looked like a kid first time having a crush. She doesn´t care.

Tara wanted to see you, so badly. She started thinking about how to get to see you again, like she would play another attack and go to the hospital, which to be honest was too cruel, or she would just go there and act like she had some examination and suddenly she saw you start to talk with you, then you would ask her to go on a date with her, you would start dating and-

God, she needs to stop. Young Carpenter sighed and put her head on the table. The voice of her professor was muted in her ears, today she felt like sleeping, just laying in her bed all day doing nothing. It was friday and she promised to go to some party. Mindy has been talking about it forever.

„Mindy I´m not in a mood right now.“ The girl turned her forehead against the table.

„I didn´t even say anything!“ Mindy scanned the shorter girl, looking for any signs of sickness. „You don´t feel good?“ she asked now with a normal tone. Tara shook her head.

„Well then we should probably call some doctor, who knows, maybe they will help you.“ Tara punched the girl beside her, making an angry noise from being teased on.

„Who does he think he is?!“ Tara was angry. They were currently at the party Mindy talked about. Everything was fine at first, everyone was minding their business, and they danced and drank, talked and joked around. It was so much fun.

But that fun soon disturbed that idiot Frankie. He was being himself of course and was trying to get with every girl there, including Tara. But the girl wasn´t in the mood for his stupid games. At first, she ignored him but as soon as he was touchy and started grabbing her to go upstairs, she became furious.

She yelled at him so hard the boy even flinched, wasn´t expecting this behavior from a sweet girl like Tara. Yeah, like she was some easy prey. He then became angry and embarrassed but knowing a lot of people were around him he couldn´t do anything.

„He is a prick Tara forget about him.“ Mindy was standing beside her watching as her friend was getting more alcohol into her cup. Tara wasn´t really drunk, yet at least. And after this incident, she just wanted to get alcohol into her system to forget about his ugly ass face.

„Like...“ the short girl let out and furious sigh out of her lips. „he is such a fucking idiot I´m surprised no girl has punched him yet.“ Tara shook her head at the bitter taste as the alcohol touched her tongue. Maybe she will be first.

„Oh! And on top of that-“

„Tara.“ Mindy said from her side but she only continued, she didn´t even notice the hand of her on her right shoulder.

„-he even-„

„Tara.“ Mindy said a little louder through the loud music that was playing in the house.

„Fuck Mindy what!“ Tara looked at her friend, raising her voice a little. She wasn´t angry at her, of course not and Mindy also knew that, but Tara had a short temper.

„Apollo at 9 o´clock.“

Tara turned pale. Her eyes widen and her body becomes stiff. She felt like she had forgotten how to breathe. What did she say? No, that can´t be. The only person they were calling Apollo was...

„Tara fucking turn around.“ Mindy said between her clenched teeth as she kept looking at the way she told her to look at.

Tara took a big breath trying to calm her beating heart and shot her eyes to the left. There was a group of friends chatting and laughing, they had beers and cups in their hands as they were standing by the side of the room so as not to disturb anybody.

She scanned the group and suddenly saw the familiar figure she had been so desperate to find these past weeks. You were standing there in your civil clothes and cup in your hand. Your bright smile could be seen from every spot of the room, smiling at your friends as you were talking about something, sipping on your drink.

„Tell me I´m not crazy.“ Tara´s eyes kept looking at you as if she was afraid you would disappear again. Her chest kept rising and falling at a fast speed.

„No Tara, you´re definitely not.“ Mindy may only see you from a photo but this was definitely you. You looked far better in a person than in a photo, she must tell.

The young Carpenter turned to Mindy with wide eyes and eyebrows raised. „Oh my God! Oh my God! What do I do?!“ she quickly looked at her clothes if they looked fine. „Do I look good? I don´t have anything between my teeth?“ she smiled widely showing her teeth Mindy to check.

„Stop Tara! Calm down.“ Mindy took her shoulders to make her look at her. „Okay okay stop right now. No, you don´t have anything between your teeth. You´re fine.“

Deep and slow breaths were the next thing she needed to do or she would have another attack and that would be pretty embarrassing. It was just you. Yeah, just the cute doctor who took care of her at the hospital. Yes, only you, as if you were someone special-

Of course, you were special! To her! She wanted to impress you so badly. The girl was always thinking about the ways she would meet you again, what would she say to you, what would she be wearing, and how she would impress you... She looked like a garbage at the moment.

Today Tara didn´t give a fuck about what would her clothes be or how she would style her hair. She just wanted to have a little fun from studying and enjoy the night with her friends.

She looked at your way one more time and your eyes met. You squint your eyes at the girl as if you were trying to remember something. She quickly turned her head to Mindy, a scared look swimming in her eyes.

„Mindy. She saw me.“

„And now she´s making her way here.“

„No, that can´t be real.“

„Oh yes, it is.“

„No no no no.“ Tara shook her head to left and right trying to put herself together. She wasn´t ready to face you. This is not how she imagined your second meeting.

„Hi.“ Mindy looked at you and greeted you back. She took Tara again by her shoulders and turned her to you.

„Hi.“ The short girl said as she was now looking at your pretty eyes. You were smiling at her like you were the first time you saw each other.

„I´m sorry I didn´t wanna disturb but... I think I know you.“ You now lowered your eyebrows a bit and kept scanning Tara´s face.

What? Do you know her? Oh my God, you remember! The girl´s heart started beating in her chest as she now realized that. You wouldn´t remember if she didn´t catch your attention, right? Right?!

„Uhm... I-“

„Oh! I know! You were in a hospital! I knew you were familiar.“ You smiled widely at her, you looked happy that you could remember after all a lot of people came through your hands every day.

Tara breathed out as she looked down. „Yeah,“ she laughed „you got me.“

„Oh, you okay now? You had any complications after?“ You kept asking her as you scanned her face and body, not in a disgusting way. But let´s be honest, Tara wouldn´t mind that either.

The shorter girl smiled softly, playing with her hands as she was softly swaying her body to the sides like a small child. „No no, everything has been fine since then.“ She smiled shyly at you. „Thanks again.“. You just shook your head like she had nothing to thank for. You were just too sweet.

Mindy offered you and your group to be with them and after the introduction, some went to drink more in the kitchen or went to the dance floor. The three of you along with some of your friends were sitting on a couch in a living room with drinks in your hands, talking and laughing at others' dancing skills.

You were so friendly and your friends too, Tara was looking at you the whole time, listening carefully every time you started speaking so none of the words could slip her. The Carpenter didn´t even notice how much alcohol she drank, guess it was because of the stress from your presence but as soon as she stood up, she could feel everything.

Oh no. Her mind was now spinning, „I´m going to the toilet.“ Mindy offered to go with her as she saw her friend's face. She was drunk.

„Oh my God, Mindy.“ These were the first words that left her mouth as she saw herself in a mirror. Her eyes were down and her face was all sweaty from the hot room and alcohol. Tara touched her cheek at the state and turned around to her friend. „I can´t go back looking like this.“ Her mind was spinning and she barely could control her legs. „I´m so fucked up.“

Mindy was behind her smirking, leaning against the bathroom door, clearly dunk as well. „Tomorrow morning will be fun.“ She laughed to herself, eyes closed from the sharp light of the bathroom.

„Hey! Are you even listening to me?“ Tara went to her but stumbled a little. Mindy laughed at her clumsy friend. She wasn´t as drunk as Tara, she could still walk normally. The only thing she was more giggling than usual.

„Come on, it´s fine. Or do you wanna leave Y/N?“ Mindy asked Tara. „Did you forget about how you were these couple of weeks?“.

Right. She can´t do that. She needs to get your number, at least that. They went to the group again but with each step they took the alcohol in their system could be felt more and more. Tara was now so drunk that she laughed at everything she saw. The girl sat beside you again but this time a little more closer than she was before, you turned to her and smiled at her. She giggled at you as she tilted her head a little.

You could see her cheeks were red and her eyes had fallen a little. Every time she was speaking her voice was really loud and her hands were everywhere around the place, even almost smacked you but you were quick to dodge it. Yep, she was drunk.

Tara´s mobile kept vibrating a couple of times but she only ignored that. It was Sam, she was worried about her because they agreed that Tara would inform her every now and then that everything was fine. The first time you caught the notification you wanted to warn Tara about it but then you saw it.

On her wallpaper was your photo from the hospital, the one with all of your colleagues. The photo was zoomed on your smiling figure, it was so cute you wanted to laugh but you couldn´t. You didn´t want to embarrass her so you played like you didn´t see that.

„So...“ Tara hiccuped as she leaned her hand on the back of the couch behind your head. You raised your eyebrows at her as you were trying to hide the smile from how drunk and cute at the same time she was. „How old are you?“ she kept looking into your eyes as if she was trying to seduce you but was cut by a hiccup again.

Laughing at her now you answered her question. „How old do I look?“

„I don´t know, you look really young to be a doctor. You are a doctor? Or you are a student? How old are you?“ Tara squints her eyes at you. You let out a laugh as you threw your head back at her words, closing your eyes in the process.

Tara was drunk smiling at you, showing her dimples. She didn´t know why you were laughing but it was because of her so she didn´t mind. In her head it meant victory. You wiped your unexisting tears and shook your head. „You are so drunk.“

„No, I´m not! Look I can drink more!“ she went to grab a cup that was on the table in front of the couch but you were quick to take it from her hand.

„Absolutely not, you had too much already.“ Tara wanted to argue with you about it but her thoughts were cut by your touch.

„You have really pretty hands. They are much bigger than mine, look!“ she compared your hands and yes, hers were really small.

„And your fingers are so long... I wonder how it would feel inside of-“

Mindy covered her friend's mouth from beside her. She kept listening to your conversation the whole time, making sure Tara wouldn´t say or do something she would be embarrassed about the next day. Something like this.

„Okay, I think we should head home.“ Mindy wanted to pull Tara on her legs but she didn´t want to stand up and leave you. She kept pouting as she sat a little more closer to you almost sitting at your tights.

„Come on, I will go with you.“ You stood up and gently took her hands to help her on her legs. She smiled like a kid and immediately did what you wanted her to do.

You and Mindy were taking Tara to her home. Sam was now calling Mindy asking about her sister. She had the right to be mad, she let her go to a party under the condition of her texting her if she was alright.

As you were close to the apartment door Mindy left you two so you could be alone. Tara won´t remember it but Mindy for sure will and she will make sure her friend will pay back for this.

„We are already here.“ Tara whined and turned around to look at you as you now stood in front of her door. „I don´t wanna leave you, I wanna be with you.“ The girl hugged your neck as she put her head on your chest to stare into your eyes.

You laughed at her. „Don´t worry, I´m sure we will see each other again.“

„Do you wanna come inside?“ she smirked and dragged her finger around your shoulder, tilting her head to the side softly. The young Carpenter had clearly enough for today.

„You know I can´t Tara.“ You breathe out with a kind smile on your lips.

„I love it when you call my name, it sounds so different, and also your smile and your eyes and-“

The door from her home suddenly opened and there stood Sam. The three of you kept looking at each other shocked written on your faces, waiting till someone made the first move.

„Uhm... hey I´m Y/N, I don´t know if you remember me.“ You smiled kindly at Tara´s sister. She kept studying you a little, then it hit her. Yeah, you were the one from the hospital. You helped Tara and that was all she needed to know.

„Yeah, I remember.“ She then looked at her sister, slowly shaking her head. Tara´s arms were still around you, not caring that her sister could see everything. „Come on Tara.“

The short girl let out a whine not wanting to let you go. She tightened her grip on you and was now looking at you to save her from her angry sister. „You need to let go of me.“ Your voice was so soft, it was only convincing her to stay but your words said otherwise and she needed to listen to you.

Slowly pulling away from and with a point on her lips, eyes big as if you were saying that you will never see her again. You didn´t even leave and she missed you already. The girl just wanted to stay with you.

„Will I see you again?“ Tara asked as she was almost at her apartment looking for your answer. You nodded your head at her, shooting her one of your smiles with a wink.

„Okay... Goodnight.“ She said with a low voice, putting her head down and leaving you in a hallway. Sam turned to you and gave you a tight-lipped smile.

„Thanks for bringing her here.“

„It´s fine, she´s amazing.“ You looked from the way she disappeared to Sam. „I guess I will head home also. Goodnight.“ You waved at her and started to walk away.

The next morning couldn´t be worse. Tara woke up with a terrible headache and the urge to throw up, Sam was giving her silent treatment, Mindy kept teasing her about yesterday and she had no way of contacting you. Like she would do that, the girl was so embarrassed that she just wanted to bury herself deep into the ground.

Afternoon Mindy and Chad came, and they kept making fun of Tara and her flirting skills. Suddenly her phone rang signaling a new message.

Y/N:) :Heyy, hope you feel better

What? How did you get her number? It was really you?

„Mindy? How did you get Y/N´s contact into my phone?“ Her friend looked at her with a confused face. „Did you give her my number?“ Mindy shook her head, still looking muddled.

„Maybe she did it herself.“ She shrugged her shoulders. „At least you have her number finally!“

Yeah, at least something but when did you make it? Oh yeah, she probably left her phone on the couch when she went to the bathroom. But if you got your phone number into her phone that must mean...

„Oh God... please no.“ She put her head into her hands, covering her red face from embarrassment.

You saw that fucking wallpaper.

Taglist: @jensortega813 @isawxxp 🤍

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cherryredstars · 4 months

Note

hello cherry this is my first time requesting something :)))) i was wondering if you could do a miguel x reader where y/n and miguel get into a big fight because miguel hasn’t been home / hasn’t been letting the reader know when he isn’t going to be there and after their fight y/n goes out to the club to let off some steam with her friends and it turns out miguel is at the club for a business meeting and he spots her and gets a bit possessive (feel free to add anything else you’d like hehehe that’s what im mainly been thinking about )

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: Possessiveness, Suggestive, Slight Praise, Dom!Miguel Vibes

A/N: Hello, love! I hope you enjoy!

Unedited

You were still fuming when he left.

Your cheeks puffed in agitation, glaring at him from the couch as he walked out the door. Horrible timing if you ask him. One second the two of you are fighting about how he barely has time for you with all these meetings, and the next he’s asking for a rain check because he’ll be late for a business conference. Really helping him out there.

It’s left him annoyed the whole meeting, resisting the urge to bang his head against the table and rub his face until it peels off. In all honesty, he doesn’t really need to be part of this meeting. He’s only here for looks, not even expected to know what the meeting is about or add any input. He could be at home, laying on the couch between your legs as he laps at the liquid gold between your thighs as an apology.

Miguel lets out a heavy sigh, the noise getting lost with the loud music that’s giving him a headache. His eyes wonder from the table of men, turning his head to peer over the railing surrounding the balcony of the VIP section. His eyes scan the mass of people, taking in the writhing mass. At his age, things like clubs have lost their appeal, but he knows this place would be something you would like. You’d love to dance to these songs, too.

Miguel hums to himself, making a mental note to take you here sometime soon. His eyes are about to go back to the meeting when he spots a familiar face in the crowd. Or, multiple faces. His eyes zero in on you, your face turned to talk to your friend behind you. The strobe lights light your face in different neon colors, and he straightens up. His eyes stay on you as you walk through the crowd, a drink in one hand and the other slapped over the top as you walk. Good girl.

Miguel is content to have you have this time with the girls, knowing after fights like this you need something to take your mind off of things. But his eyes stray to a group of men near the bar leering over at your group of friends, one of the sleazy fucks gaining courage to walk towards you. Miguel’s expression sours, and he fixes his suit jacket as he stands up. The group instantly stops talking, focusing on Miguel.

“Where are you going?” One of his coworkers ask, brows furrowing in confusion.

Miguel doesn’t spare him a glance, adjusting the cuffs of his suit. “Bathroom.”

The group continues to watch him, slowly turning back to each other and continuing the conversation. Miguel turns his back to them as he leaves, his eyes sticking to where you and your group stand. He can see the fuck walking towards you, and he grumbles when he realizes he’ll get to you first. Once he descends the stairs, it gets slightly harder to spot you. But it isn’t an impossible task with his abnormal height, and he can still make out the vague area you’re in. The crowd parts easily for his intimidating build, and soon enough he’s a few feet away from you.

As expected the sleaze is already with you, mouth moving way too much as he talks to you. Your brow is furrowed in annoyance, and you glare at the man as he talks. Miguel can’t make out what he’s saying, but he can tell you aren’t interested in his shit. Miguel’s stare hardens when the man leans forward, getting into your personal space and whispers something to you.

Miguel reaches you right as you lift your hand to slap him. Miguel’s front presses into your back, his hands acting fast as one wraps around your wrist and the other around your neck to tilt your head up. Your face shoots up to stare at him, the glare in your eyes softening slightly at the sight of him. Miguel’s thumb strokes the pulse point on your neck, calming you down as he stares at the man in front of you.

“Down girl,” he mumbles to you, slowly lowering your hand so it rests at your side.

You make a sound similar to a scoff, but you don’t resist. Your body melts into him, and you turn to hug him when he lets go of your neck. The man looks between the two of you and scoffs, walking off with an irritated grumble once he realizes he’s not getting lucky with you. Miguel watches him go, his large hand stroking your hair.

Once he’s completely gone you pull away from Miguel. That glare is back on your face, and you cross your arms as you stare at him.

“I’m not some dog.” You sass, tilting your chin up.

Miguel hums. uninterested. His hand comes to grab your cheeks, squeezing them together so your lips pucker. The furrow in your brow grows deeper, and Miguel’s mouth twitches at the corner.

“Of course not, mamí,” he agrees. “But you are a brat.”

You begin to grumble a protest but Miguel pinches your cheeks tighter.

“Ah-“ he cuts you off. “Behave and have fun, yeah? I’ll come get you when my meeting’s done.”

Your lips jut out further with a pout, and your grumble something inaudible before nodding reluctantly. Miguel hums, leaning down and pressing a quick kiss to your lips.

“Good girl. I’ll be back”

He lets go of your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead before giving you a once over and leaving. You watch him go, trying to ignore the ache between your thighs.

You hate that fucker.

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1800jjbarnes · 1 year

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐈𝐬 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

【Synopsis】 : You suggest something new, and the boys love the idea.

『Word count』 : 2.1k

Paring: Steve x Bucky x Reader [Poly Au]

[Warnings] : Making out. Hickeys. Big dick energy. Light-hearted sex. Poly relationship. Swearing. Pet names. Praise from Bucky. Steve is a moaning mess. Multiple orgasms. Protected anal sex. Unprotected sex (Steve didn't wrap it).

Masterlist | Navigation

"Please, please. Please." You sounded like a broken record. One that had been broken by none other than the infamous lone wolf Bucky and his best friend, Steve. You were the good girl around the compoud. You weren't the best agent by all means, but you weren't an unskilled either. You had friends in and out of the heroing and crime fighting. You try to live a normal life.... well, that was until Bucky, the deep-voiced man that recently joined the Avengers, started to take interest in you.

Everyone wanted him and his best friends. They were the walking sex on legs. But none of them were interested in relationships or flings or even hookups. Especially with the women and some men shield agnets that only started working for the avengers because they wanted to get closer to them. People would lie, saying they'd been with them, but in truth, Bucky and Steve were untouchable, and that made them even more desirable. Heck, Bucky didn't even like human interaction with anyone other than their friend group. But yet when Bucky saw you, he knew he wanted you. And so did Steve.

It became a game of cat and mouse. But in this case, it was two very, very large cats cornering one scared little mouse. You wanted it, though. As much as you fought it at first. You wanted the pleasure you knew they would provide. But part of you wanted to keep your dignity, not wanted to be plastered as a whore in the compound. But Bucky and Steve reassured you that no one would come to know your dirty secret. And yet, no one would even believe it anyway if it were to get out.

So here you stand, with two large bodies holding you close in between them. Steve's fingers were paced fast as you high came, ripping closer and closer. Bucky's tongue lapped the bright purple marks on your soft skin, the ones he created so he could show others you were taken without anyone knowing who exactly gave them to you. They were both possessive over you. Learning more and more things about you and your body every time they had you in these situations.

"Steve , I.." You gripped his biceps, nails digging into his flesh as you could feel your orgasm approaching. Steve just chuckled, going faster while Bucky snaked his hand from behind you to place a finger on your clit, circling it quickly in time with Steve's thrusts.

"Fuck fuck fuck.." you swore, knees buckling, you fall into Bucky's arms, making him keep you up while they continue. Your orgasm comes quickly, Steve letting out a chuckle at his work. You were so fucked out already and they hadn't even started yet. Bucky swopped you up, laying you on his bed while Steve takes this time to undress, finally making you not the only one naked in the room. Bucky kisses your forehead whispering how good you were, making your heart jump at his words.

“Bucky.” You shakily place a hand on his cheek, bringing him close so you could kiss him on the lips passionately. Buck’s hands snaked down your body, gripping your breast, giving them a squeeze. You moan into his mouth, making him smile. The noises you made were always music to his ears.

“So Me or Buckaroo first, baby? Since we chose last time.” Steve rubbed your ankles as he stood by the end of the bed. You sat up, looking at your lover. A hard gulp ran down your throat as you tried to prepare yourself to answer him. You recently found you wanted to try a new thing but became unsure how to ask. No better time than the present, right?

“I…I want both of you..” You glance over to Bucky, “At the same time.” Steve and Bucky could feel their dicks twitch at the idea. don’t get them wrong, they both fantasised about taking you at the same time but they didn’t want to scare you away with the act. But hearing the thought roll off your tongue, god it made them go feral. Bucky jumped up, ripping his shirt off while he jogged over to his dresser.

“Rock, paper, scissors,” Steve shouted with a huge smile like a teenager. You tilted your head in confusion as you watched Bucky strip down while he held his fist out.

“Deal.” Bucky smirks, throwing the lube on the bed next to you before also placing his fist out. They swung, Steve getting scissors, and Bucky getting rock.

“Fuck!” Steve swears with a whimpering tone. Bucky laughs smugly, walking over to you with pride. He lets his hand out for you to take, so he can pull you up off the bed so you could stand on your wobbly legs. Did they really just play rock, paper, scissors for who fucks you in which hol-

“Oh god….” Your cheeks run a blush in a similar shade to the evening sky. Bucky twirls you, so you face Steve, and he could stand behind you. He kisses your neck from behind, rubbing your ass slightly before letting his hand land a smack on your soft skin.

“Next time, Stevie. But right now, this ass is mine.” Bucky chuckles to himself.

He lathers himself up with lube and then coats his fingers again. With one finger, he begins prodding at your ass before slipping it in slowly. It’s a foreign feeling, and it has you squirming under his touch. He murmurs something in your ear you can’t quite make out, but it’s all a blur anyways when he begins sucking at your neck. He adds another finger, and he has to hold you in place. It’s almost painful, but the lube is a blessing.

Steve is suddenly in your sight, grabbing your chin to look at him. “Keep your eyes on me, I wanna see your face.”

Steve cups your core, chuckling slightly at how wet you still were... He’s able to slip two fingers in easily, and the noise that comes from your lips is something that you wouldn’t imagine. They go at two different paces, and you can’t think. You forget that you’re meant to be looking at Steve, and you focus on him again. Bucky has to hold you up as your knees keep wanting to give way. You have never felt this much before in your life.

“I...I feel weird..” The tingle in your gut was growing differently than any other orgasms you’ve ever experienced before. You lent more into Bucky's body, while Steve got down on his knees so he could be face to face with your dripping pussy. His tongue licks a long strip, making you gasp out, gripping his short hair. His fingers got faster while Bucky stayed at the same pace, making your brain shortcircuit. Before you could tell what was going on, you were cumming all over Steve’s face.

“Fuck, our baby just squirted,” Steve said in amusement while Bucky chuckled against your ear, making you blush even more than you were prior. They both pulled out making you whine. You left dizzy, unable to register what was happening. All you could do was watch Steve disappear for a second before reappearing with a towel, wiping his face clean with a smug smile plastered to it. You could hear the sound of a wrapper being opened behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, seeing Bucky rolling a condom on his thick length. He had a sweet smile, but you knew this man had a dark side. He was going to enjoy ruining you.

“Okay, Stevie, lay back and let our baby ride you.” Steve does what Bucky asks, laying down on the bed so you can straddle his hips. You guide his cock to your entrance and sink down on him, watching his face contort as you squeeze his length. He fills you perfectly, hitting spots inside you that make you see stars. Fuck, you swear every time you feel his cock it gets bigger. From behind, you suddenly feel Bucky’s fingers, slick from the lube, slide against your ass like he had done before. You shiver at the feeling but welcome it, angling your hips so he has better access.

“You feel so perfect squeezing me,” Steve moans from below you, hands reaching out to grope your breasts in order to distract you from the discomfort you might feel soon enough.

“Isn’t she tight, Stevie. Always so good for us ?” Bucky grins, pressing a finger into your ass. You hold your breath at the feeling, but Steve just whispers calming words to you. You relax into them as Buck slowly moves his finger. One finger becomes two, and you ride Steve a bit harder as you warm up to the feeling. He grips your hips and guides you on his large cock, working the pleasure from you.

“Please, James, please,” you beg, leaning back up against his chest. He kisses your neck and smiles at your neediness.

“You ready for me, Doll?” he teases, thrusting his fingers at a quicker pace.

“Fuck yes, Bucky, I need you so bad.” Bucky pulls you into a bruising kiss as he removes his fingers and replaces them with the tip of his cock.

“You’re doing so good for us, baby. Now be a good girl and take a deep breath.” Bucky keeps kissing you as he presses his cock further and further inside of you. Steve helps you relax, but you can tell it’s difficult for him, too. His strokes are getting messy as you get tighter around him. His release came quicker than he expected. Only a thin wall now separates Bucky and Steve’s cocks, and that just turns them on even more. It turns you on even more.

They pump into you simultaneously, finding the perfect rhythm that makes your heart stutter. You’re at mercy to them, putty in their hands while their thrusts become different pacing, making it near hard to breathe. All you can do is moan and beg, your brain becoming jelly the harder they fuck you. With their stamina, they last so much longer than other men. I guess the serm could be a blessing in some situations. They bring you to orgasm after orgasm, pleasing you seems to be their only goal.

“I’m gonna come,” Steve whimpers from below you, fingers digging into your hips with bruising force. “Please, I’m gonna come.” Bucky leans over to bite your shoulder, pumping into your ass with deeper strokes than ever.

“You gonna cum Doll? You want Stevie to cum inside you?” Bucky’s fingers wrap around your neck, giving it a tight squeeze.

“Oh my god, Stevie, please give it to me. Please come inside me,” you moan through your strong high, gripping onto Bucks’s metal arm. Steve comes on a long, drawn-out moan, sending Bucky over the edge right after. He thrusts into you a few more times before he becomes too sensitive, and then they’re both pulling out.

The three of you fall into a heap on the bed, panting and sweating for a moment. Bucky kisses you deeply before shifting to give Stevw the same treatment. Buck gets up to grab a washcloth while Steve holds you tightly, pampering your face with sweet kisses. They take care of you sweetly. Ensuring not to irritate your sensitive skin, Bucky cleans you up, and together, you and Steve care for Bucky. Once you are all done, you flop on the bed with Bucky on his back and you half on top of him. Steve cuddles up next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist while nuzzling his face into your shoulder. it was silent for a moment. The only things that could be heard were your bumping hearts and breathing that finally began to slow down. It was peaceful until Steve opened his big, smug mouth.

“Ready for round two?”

You have never wanted to slap him so much as right now.

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odxrilove · 1 year

Text

BIRTHDAY BOY

PAIRING: mingyu x f!reader

GENRE: fluff, friends to lovers, bday party!au? kinda confession!au, uni!au but not really mentionned

WARNINGS: , flirting, swearing, alchohol, drinking, one mention of being high (not yn or seventeen), etc typical party stuff, game of truth or dare, minghao is annoying x1 (jk), yn gets jealous a bit, yn and mingyu are in love ewwww, huge make-out session (borderline smut...) (JKKK. or am i), lots of tension + more?

WC: +8.1k

SYNOPSIS: It’s Mingyu’s birthday party, and Hoshi lets something out under the influence of alcohol. Apparently, you have two gifts prepared for him– completely throwing out the one-gift tradition your friend group strictly follows. However, Hoshi’s a liar — and a bad one at that — but it’s already too late. Even though Mingyu knows he’s supposed to be excited about all the gifts he’s receiving tonight, he’s (not so surprisingly) only interested in everything you’re giving him.

A/N: thank u so so much to sara the loml pookie bear (@4xiaojun) for reading it so many times over the past few months and hyping me up ! i couldnt have finished this fic if it wasnt for u ily bae !!!! &&& rec song - i dont understand but i luv u by seventeen

FIC TAGLIST: @etherealyoungk @simpforyongbokk @luvhyun3 @nhularin @matchahyuck @graybaeismytae @mark-geolli @esloao @jaklvbub @sukistrawberry @raggedypansexual

back to masterlist !

“Having fun?”

The music is loud, resonating off the walls and making your ears ring. But even if you barely hear your own thoughts over the noise, mingyu’s smooth voice fills your ears.

You change your weight from one foot to another, bringing the red cup to your lips and taking a sip of your drink. The alcohol isn’t cold anymore and you slightly grimace at the way it burns your throat when you decide to empty your cup. You pull the cup away from your mouth, bumping it deliberately against his before crossing your arms and looking up at him.

“Yeah. Even more so now that you’re here.”

His already pretty smile widens and his little vampire teeth appear as he throws his head back to laugh. Your mind is hazy from the alcohol and you’re a bit tipsy, glossy eyes staring at his neck. You always thought mingyu’s skin was so pretty.

Mingyu takes a look around the room before focusing on you again, leaning with his shoulder on the wall next to you. He’s tall and looking down at you, it makes you smile a little.

His heart beats in his chest at the sight of your cherry lips, still wet from the drink. He doesn’t think he’s seen you wearing this lip color before, recounting all the times you came to hangouts wearing anything else than lip balm. The color suits you though, he thinks.

Unconsciously, his eyes wander to your cup before landing on the white plastic rim, the red trace of your lip gloss making him shudder.

The glint in your eyes is mischievous when he makes eye contact with you again. He sees you looking him up and down and he has to yell at his own mind when certain thoughts enter his head. He can sense how you fill up with pride at the sight of him wearing the watch you just gifted him, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“You’re already wearing it?” your body turns to him a bit and he leans down even more at the same time, faces centimeters away from each other. He lifts his hand up with a grin, pushing his shirt sleeves up his arms even more when he notices you eyeing them.

This time, you smile so big Mingyu almost awes at the sight. You force yourself to stop smiling and look away but your happiness can be heard through your slightly playful voice. “The others wouldn’t be happy to hear that, y’know?”

Mingyu wiggles his fingers and flexes his arm, making you giggle and uncross your arms in the process. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s my favorite gift.”

He tilts his head to the side, ruffling his styled hair with his ring-clad hands. Mingyu isn’t much of a ring-wearer but when he does, it fills your stomach with butterflies– not that that doesn’t happen on a daily basis.

“Who said the others have to know?” His stare makes you feel weak, knees almost buckling under you. You lean back on the wall for support, something he definitely catches up onto with the way he smirks. “Let’s say this is our little secret, yeah?”

You blush when you realize he’s, again, wearing the rings you gifted him months prior for secret santa.

Mingyu turns to lean against the wall with his back, facing the crowd as he lets himself drown into the loud music and the warmth your body radiates, shoulders touching. Your friend crouches down a bit, legs stretching on the ground and head close to your neck. With a sigh, he plops his head on your shoulder, turning to hide against you. He grabs your hips and holds his arm around your waist, audibly whining against your neck.

You nod silently, picking at the rim of your cup. From how close the two of you are, Mingyu can count your lashes, admire your face and the way your lips curl into a smile when you see your friends having fun on the other side of the room.

His breath tickles your skin and you realize mingyu’s just as tipsy as you are.

“You know what Hoshi told me?” he starts off, voice small and softer than usual. You guess he’s a bit tired from partying all night. It’s only a few seconds later that you look at him, smiling and humming when he silently waits for an answer. “He said you had a second gift for me.”

The man, who’s supposed to be 6.1ft tall, seems to shrink even more at your question, pouting and eyebrows furrowing. He glares at you before his eyes turn soft, hugging your body from the side. “You know I didn’t mean it like that~” His voice is slurry and you laugh at him, patting his head and passing your fingers through his hair.

Ah Hoshi, he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t go around spilling secrets and creating drama. You avert your eyes, suddenly finding the fabric of Mingyu’s shirt very interesting. “Is the watch not enough for you? ‘didn’t know you would be so greedy, gyu.”

You nod again, fixing a few strands of hair on top of his head. “I like your hair like this.”

“Yeah? You think I’m handsome?”

Mingyu abruptly gets up, rolling his shoulders back to stand up straighter. He lets out a mix between a gasp and a chuckle before turning towards a mirror near where you’re leaning against the wall. He passes his hand through his hair, going over the spots you didn't touch and paying extra attention to not mess up the ones you previously styled as he smiles. Suddenly, his tone turns confident as he examines himself in the glass, winking and adjusting the sleeves of his shirt.

You try your best to keep a straight face but the alcohol in your system makes it a difficult task. “Of course, you’re always handsome.”

Mingyu seems to light up at your words, a big smile on his face as he returns to where you are, choosing to lean against the wall on your other side. You know he’s up to something with the way he looks at you but you don’t question it– he’s mainly harmless so you have nothing to worry about.

To Mingyu's surprise, you don’t deny it.

He taps his pointer finger on his chin, pursing his lips and giggling, “Could it be that you’re flirting with me?”

He swears he can see a teasing look in your eyes before it quickly disappears, making him gulp. He can’t even question you about it more before you’re intertwining your fingers together, holding his hand close and walking away from the wall. Mingyu feels like a puppy following his owner, tail wagging and tongue lolling out as he watches you drag him to the other room, discarding your empty cup on a random counter.

With a loud sigh, you plop down next to the armrest, dragging Mingyu down with you, squishing his big body between Hoshi and you. He looks at you and pouts as you let your head fall back on the couch, closing your eyes for a few seconds as the loud music resonates off the walls.

When the two of you enter the living room, you’re not even surprised to see some of your friends gate-keeping the couches, seemingly playing a drinking game. Hoshi is one of the drunker ones and you walk past him to get to the bigger couch, ruffling his hair as he stares with empty eyes at a framed photo hung up on the wall. He’s still out of it so you quickly scratch the underside of his chin with your nails and he perks up, immediately scooting over to give you and Mingyu some space on the couch.

You feel Mingyu’s hand resting on your forearm, slowly dragging up and down as he intensely watches goosebumps rise up on your arm. When Hoshi seems to get dragged into a conversation between Joshua and Seungkwan, voices fill the room and you joyfully listen, letting Mingyu take your hand in his.

His skin feels soft against yours and his thumb draws circles on the back of your hand. You turn towards him, leaning further against the armrest as he smiles at you. He’s cute you think, he’s always been cute.

And then Mingyu brings your intertwined hands up to his mouth, kissing the back of your hand delicately and smiling into the sweet kiss.

His eyes sparkle, the party lights making him shine. His hair is ruffled from the many hugs he received from his friends and his cheeks are rosy from the alcohol.

Suddenly, it feels like you two are the only ones there, like there aren’t dozens of partygoers stumbling around Mingyu’s apartment. It’s weird, how you stare at each other in absolute delight, ignoring everyone around you as if Seungcheol wasn’t calling out both your names for a game of truth or dare.

It’s Mingyu who first snaps out of it, having been elbowed in the ribs by Hoshi next to him. He grumbles in pain but lifts himself off the couch anyways, extending his hand out to you and winking at you. You laugh and place your hand in his, his warmth sending shivers over your spine.

Mingyu hoists you up from the couch and immediately wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you so close to him that your free hand lands on his chest. He tilts his head slightly and comes closer, mouth inches away from your ear.

“I’m happy you came. Thank you.”

Mingyu pulls back with a slight blush on his cheeks, the tip of his ears read. A shy smile covers his lips and for a moment you’re not sure if you’re able to speak. You shallow and find your vocabulary again, thoughts racing in your mind.

When you speak up, eyes locked into his, Mingyu thinks he could pass out from the sugary sweet tone in your voice.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

With a silent nod of his head in the direction of the hallway towards his friends, you put your hand in his again and lead the way, zigzagging between guests.

—

“So, you really made out with that girl during summer camp? There’s no way that’s true.”

Laughter fills the room as you once again find yourself in the living room with Mingyu and his closest friends. At first, you had all followed one of the guys to the kitchen for a game of truth or dare until one of the partygoers threw up right on the stark white kitchen tiles, pausing the game and consequently pushing the group back to the sacred couches.

Jun yells at Dino, hitting the latter on the shoulder and downing his drink. The younger one cackles, teasing Jun more for his confession. “Shut up, dickhead. I’m not saying anything else, just know that she was the one who initiated it.”

His answer doesn’t convince Dino in the slightest and he just continues to laugh, falling backwards on the beanbag he’s currently occupying.

Mingyu’s laugh fills your ears, the joyful sound bringing a smile to your lips. You’re sitting right next to him again, but this time with your back to the armrest, one leg dangling off the couch and the other one blocked under the latter. Your heel digs into the skin of your thigh and unfortunately for you, it’s starting to feel like you have pins and needles in your legs.

You openly wince at the prickly sensation and squirm around, trying to release your hurt leg as you support yourself on the armrest, your feet on the floor slipping. Even with all the laughter and noise in the room– and Hoshi’s sudden barking, Mingyu notices and turns to you with worried eyes. You’re pouting without knowing it and he finds it hard to stare away from your lips, forcing himself to help instead.

What you didn’t expect however, was for him to pull your legs over his, in his lap, after you sat back down. You can feel your face heating up and you’re sure that your ears are full on red at this point. Mingyu knows the effect his action had on you, smirking while pretending like he’s absorbed by the current conversation– or more so an argument between Seungkwan and Dino about who used to have the best math grades in high school.

A gentle hand places itself on the side of your knee, helping you lift your leg as he guides you up with his other hand on your waist, respectfully and only after your nod of affirmation.

The boy continues to act like nothing is going on, seeming calm while his heart beats loudly in his chest. There is so much going on, the music resonating off the walls and friendly banter in the background, but Mingyu’s only focus is on the way your breath hitches when he hoists one of your legs up in his lap. He grabs onto your ankle, near the strap of your high heel and your leg soon joins the other one in his lap.

Mingyu’s being careful with his movements, unsure if he’s crossing a boundary or not– unsure if he just ruined one of his best friendships just because his heart couldn’t keep itself in check. But then you grin, eyes sparkling wide and radiant as you look at his hand on your ankle.

It’s a silent game of back and forth– Mingyu’s looking at you to see your reaction and you avoid his gaze, knowingly, to stare at his pretty hand running up and down your calf. Mingyu knows you would have said something if you disapproved of his action but he’s still feeling like a high school boy with a crush on someone for the first time, worrying about every small thing.

On the other hand, you are glowing, happiness and excitement radiating off you. You feel weird, butterflies erupting in your stomach as if you weren’t already aware of how much Mingyu could affect you– how he could make you fall in love with him over and over again.

Actually, if he thinks about it, he is a boy with a crush on someone– you, just not as a high school boy anymore since he graduated long ago.

You snap out of your little bubble, again, and for once you are grateful for Joshua. Because you’re almost hundred percent sure Mingyu was starting to trace hearts on your thigh. And you certainly didn’t know how much longer you could survive his constant flirting.

When your eyes lock, there’s a look and nod of agreement between you. And then his hand is on your upper thigh, thumb brushing circles on your skin.

“Truth or dare! Yn and Mingyu, you two are playing this round!”

Even with the guys’ screaming in the background, you hold eye contact with him for a little bit longer, just in time to see his eyebrows relax and his gaze soften before you’re diverting your eyes.

“Isn’t truth or dare something you play in middle school?” You tease your friends, trying to lift yourself off the couch to sit up straighter so that other people can join and use the couch. Before you can do so and pull your legs off Mingyu’s lap, he stops you with a hand on your knee, looking at you with furrowed brows.

“Cmon Yn, truth or dare is a classic. Even us oldies have to play it once in a while!” Dino exclaims, unaware of the sudden tension rising from your couch.

A loud slap is heard before Dino winces, turning around to face the culprit as Scoups menacingly points at him, “Ya! Who are you calling old!” They continue to argue for a bit, with Dino calling the oldest, well, old and Scoups pushing the youngest off the beanbag and on the floor.

Normally, you would have paid more attention to it, the friendly banter bringing you much joy, but this time your mind is focused on something else.

If Mingyu tried to talk to you right now, you would barely be able to hear it over the loud music, but he doesn’t talk to you, his gaze tells you enough. “Don’t” is what you understand he’s trying to say and you let out a deep breath. He’s still staring at you, hand still on your knee and his eyes seem to be pleading you to stay.

At that moment, you realize you could probably never say no to Mingyu.

So you set your legs back down in his lap, readjusting your dress so that you don’t flash everybody. When Mingyu realizes you decided to stay, he sends you a big smile, teeth on display. And when he smiles at you like that, you would trade every couch in the damn world to see it a bit longer. You don’t even care anymore about the other party goers who might have wanted to join the game, Mingyu and you clearly taking up the whole couch, with a drunk Dk squished to Mingyu’s right side.

“Hey lovebirds! We said you two are playing, pay attention instead of staring at each other!”

The game in itself isn’t that bothersome– your friends are mainly having fun, bickering and throwing each other under the bus when it comes to revealing not so important secrets. It’s pretty entertaining to watch and you take pleasure in it, but you can’t concentrate fully on Jeonghan’s story about how he saw his high school math teacher and science teacher, both married with kids, making out together in the science lab ten years prior. And all that because of the eyes boring into the side of your head.

You huff when you still feel his eyes on you after Woozi downed his drink, poking Mingyu in the ribs. A quiet yelp leaves his mouth and you smirk, triumphantly, crossing your arms proudly, chin high.

That is until Minghao turns towards you, pinky lifting from his glass and pointing your way. “Yn, truth or dare?”

Your cheeks grow hot, being caught off guard as you sink into the armrest of the couch. You take a moment to think. You know Minghao isn’t the type to completely humiliate you if you decided to choose dare, he’s actually rather laidback with you, but you also remember accidentally spilling his last cup of his favorite tea right on his lap when you all went to visit his new apartment a week prior. And since Minghao’s pretty protective of his tea, you’d prefer to avoid walking right into the cage of a wild and unpredictable animal.

And as the red-haired boy looks at you, waiting for your answer with a slight smirk on his face, you’re sure you made the right choice.

“Truth. I don’t want to leave this place covered in a mix of glitter and cereal or something.”

Truth it is. And could Truth possibly do even any harm?

Minghao hums, taking a last sip of his drink before finally speaking up. “Wise choice. Or not. Yn, of all the people in this room, who’s the guy you’re crushing on?”

Okay, so apparently Truth can do a lot of harm.

Your eyes widen, your mouth falling open in sock as everyone turns to look at you, some whispering between themselves and some even giggling.

You definitely did not think this through enough.

Mighao tilts his head a bit and you don’t waste a second more before you’re reaching forward to grab your shot glass off the table, “Pass”. In your haste, you forget that you’re basically sitting sideways on the couch and that you don’t have any support under you as you move your upper body off the couch, eventually losing balance and falling forward.

But before you can hit the coffee table with full force, an arm snakes around your waist, holding you up and bringing you back on the couch. Mingyu’s hand is holding onto your hip firmly, his fingers dipping into the fabric of your dress.

There’s a sudden silence as your friends look from you to Mingyu, then back to you. You turn your head towards your ‘savior’ and directly make eye-contact, the close position and the strong scent of his cologne making you dizzy.

Your face heats up, again, and you quickly grab your glass from the table, downing it and returning to your seat, hands clasped tightly together. Minghao eyes the now empty shot glass and chuckles, “Hiding something?”

You glare at him, “It’s one question only, Minghao.” You forgot sometimes how infuriatingly teasing he can be.

The next round of truth and dare goes more smoothly, nobody’s falling to the ground and there are no questions regarding anyone’s love life– if you don’t take into account Joshua asking Hoshi if his sister is still single.

You don’t know how much time passes but you feel at ease on the black couch, leaning the side of your head against the backrest as you continue to enjoy the nice and friendly atmosphere. The guys have now changed to another game in a smaller group, while the others thought it was a good idea to start playing Mario Kart.

The music changes to a slower genre when the clock hits 2am and you decide that maybe it’s time to get another drink, the alcohol leaving your system a bit too soon for your liking.

With a sudden boost of energy, you swing your legs off Mingyu’s lap and stand up, kneeling down to stack the empty shot glasses and bring them with you to the kitchen. While you’re doing so, you feel a tug at the bottom of your dress. Mingyu pulls the hem of your dress down as you lean over and he makes sure no one can sneak a glance under your short outfit.

You turn to him with difficulty, the stacked shot glasses in your hands and your heels almost knocking over a plastic cup on the ground. Mingyu looks up at you, hair brushed back and arm resting on the back of the couch. He waits for you to speak and you smile softly. “Want a drink?”

The corners of his mouth turn up and he gets up from the couch, taking the shot glasses from your hands. “I’ll go with you, if that’s ok.”

You nod, and almost notice the faint blush on Mingyu’s cheek, “Of course.”

The music is still playing through the heavy speakers in each corner of the room, the lights of the TV casts a colorful glow over Mingyu’s living room and the chatter of every party goer doesn’t go unnoticed as you two make your way out of the room, stepping over the many empty cups on the wooden floor and into the less crowded hallway.

There aren’t really a lot of people in the hallway, but most of them are walking from one room to another, making it a hassle to peacefully cross the hallway without bumping into someone. It’s loud and the people occupying the little space aren’t exactly making it easy to enter the kitchen.

Mingyu sees the mess before you do, taking all the shot glasses in one hand and grabbing your hand with the other. His back is creating a wall between you and the ‘danger’ in the hallway, and before you know it, Mingyu’s pushing forward, bumping into drunk party goers to make it through. He quickly creates a path, one that is safe to take as he pushes away the cups and beer bottles on the ground away and to the side, craning his arm so that you’re close to his back and following him.

When a very drunk– and probably high, guy stumbles out of a random room and directly into Mingyu’s shoulder, the shot glasses nearly fall to the floor, earning a panicked gasp from the owner. The guy doesn’t even bother to say sorry, looking past the both of you with a dead gaze as he tumbles forward, weak legs bringing him to the living room.

You whip your head around, smelling the awful stench coming from the guy and bring your hand up to cover your mouth. When he’s out of sight, you sneak one last glance to where he disappeared off to and tsks. “Asshole.”

Mingyu’s laugh brings your eyes back to him, puzzled. He just squeezes your hand, sending you a smile over his shoulder.

As you two finally arrive at your destination, the kitchen, your eyes widen in horror. It seems that there are even more people in the small kitchen than in the living room, which is already crowded enough. There’s not even enough space to navigate properly, people choosing to squeeze themselves between other people to get to the exit, spilling bits of their newly-filled drink. You hear Mingyu sigh– the cleanup the morning after is gonna be a tough one.

“Hey, why don’t you wait for me here? I’ll go in alone and come back with the drinks.” Mingyu turns to you, the shot glasses carefully leaning against his chest.

Mingyu watches as you glance around the hallway and then around him, into the kitchen. You bite your lip, showing you’re becoming a bit anxious and he furrows his eyebrows. His smile quickly falters, showing concern right away. “You okay?”

You look up at him as he turns fully towards you, almost blocking the doorway to the kitchen. You pass your hands over your dress, flattening out the non-existent wrinkles. “Yeah, it’s just starting to feel a bit too stuffy in here..”

Mingyu hums, raising his head to look at the end of the hallway, where the door to the balcony is situated. When he returns his gaze to you, he tilts his head cutely, licking his lips. “You wanna wait by the balcony? I told the guests not to go on there too much so that i won’t get a noise complaint from the neighbors. I think it’s safe if you go there.”

With a smile, you nod at Mingyu, “yeah, that would be great. Thanks.” You place one of your hands on the wall next to the kitchen before leaning in so he hears you better over the music. “Don’t die in there by the way! We haven’t even gone to Iceland yet like we planned to years ago– it would be a waste for you to miss out on our extravagant bucket list, right?”

Mingyu’s laugh fills your ears, the sound making you smile from ear to ear. “C’mon, who do you take me for? Seok– Oh sorry.” Mingyu cuts himself off, lifting his two hands in the air with one still holding all the shot glasses. The girl, who just bumped into Mingyu, and who you recognize as one of your classmates from your major, pushes her hair behind her ear, blushing at your friend.

Before she leaves, she mumbles a few words, but the music is way too loud for you to make out what it was, and then she’s gone.

You don’t pay too much attention to it, as does Mingyu, who’s already back to look at you. It’s not the first and certainly not the last time someone is going to bump into one of you two at his party.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You turn back to Mingyu, crossing your arms and making the silver necklace you’re currently wearing shine even more under the flashy led lights.

“Ah, sweetheart, you never listen do you?” Mingyu brings his free hand up to your jaw, tapping on the underside of your chin with his index finger. “I said, you need to stop biting your lips when you’re nervous. They’re too pretty for that.”

You can’t speak, your entire vocabulary having left your body. His hand then turns to cup the underside of your jaw, his thump grazing over your bottom lip, ultimately smudging a bit of your lipgloss. Your mouth falls open a bit at the shock but he doesn’t stop. “A pretty color.. for pretty lips. Suiting.” His thumb sweeps one last time over your lip before he retreats into the kitchen.

“Wait for me by the balcony, I'll grab our drinks for us.”

—

The temperature outside is completely different from the stuffy warmth inside the small apartment, the cold breeze making you shiver. You’re not a fan of the winter, or the cold in general, but when it’s almost 3am and your cheeks are red from being around Mingyu, the weather is probably the only thing keeping you sane.

You think it’s captivating outside– how the moon shines and provides you enough light, how the silence from nature and the muffled sounds from the party mix together, how the wind blows your hair around and makes you tremble. You like it all.

There’s a calming atmosphere around it. You don’t feel as edgy as before and you mentally thank Mingyu for allowing you to use his sacred space for your own benefit.

If you truly think about it, you had come to the party with no real intentions, but as the night goes by, you find yourself yearning for more.

You find yourself yearning for Mingyu. You suppose it’s not entirely a bad thing– it’s also not the first time.

You’re leaning over the balcony railing, looking down to the street at the foot of his apartment building. The concrete tiles are darker than usual, and wet– you were too absorbed by the party to even notice it was raining outside. The water droplets on the railing are cold against the skin of your forearms but you just clench your jaw through it. In a way, it wakes you up.

Your eyes are closed as you hum to the melodies of the pop song playing inside, chin propped up on your palm. You don’t know how long you rest your eyes, but you missed Mingyu’s voice when he opens the door to the balcony, stepping out of the apartment and smiling your way.

“Sleepy?” You just tilt your head, eyes still closed. You do turn towards him as you feel his presence behind you.

You realize Mingyu always smiles when he’s looking at you and butterflies race in your stomach.

Your hands are on the slippery metal railing as you lean back against it, the water droplets staining the lower back of your dress. It’s cold against your skin and you shiver, suddenly, and Mingyu notices, immediately stepping closer to you.

“Just a bit out of energy.”

Mingyu closes the balcony door behind him, swiftly setting down the two newly-filled plastic cups on a wobbly garden table in the corner and joining you. He stands in front of you, hands in his pockets and smirking down at you. You gulp, feeling like his prey.

“Why’s that?” His tone doesn’t show an ounce of concern. Probably because he knows he has nothing to worry about.

You’re not a jealous person, truly. You’re relatively confident when it comes to your relationships and friendships and have never deemed it necessary to throw a tantrum about your partner and who he talks to. To be fair, your last relationship was quite a while ago, but you still stand by your own beliefs.

So, feeling a tiny bit of jealousy creep up when your classmate– the one who had previously bumped into Mingyu– walked up to him in the kitchen and laid her perfectly manicured hand on his bicep was an entirely new thing for you.

You had even questioned yourself if you had the right to be jealous. You and Mingyu weren’t even together!

The fact that you could watch what was happening right from your spot on the balcony didn’t help you either– your curious self being unable to stop watching while your mind was telling you to think about happy moments– aka moments where Mingyu showed he was definitely more interested in you than in the party or your classmate.

So even though the little angel on your shoulder tried to avert your eyes from the crime scene, the manipulation play from the little devil on your other shoulder was a bit too convincing for your liking. In conclusion, you found yourself staring at the entire event.

Frankly, nothing happened. On Mingyu’s part at least. The girl however, let’s say she was just trying to get to know him (a lie you’re definitely not telling yourself to keep calm).

Honestly, you weren’t paying much attention at first. It’s Mingyu’s birthday party, of course people will go up to him and congratulate him. But when the girl– you honestly don’t even remember her name– leaned towards him and put her hand on his chest, on the same spot where your hand had been moments prior, you knew this was more than a simple “happy birthday!”.

Was it foul to only remember the way Mingyu’s smile seemed fake, the way he slowly backed away from her presence, and the way he rushed back to you? If it was, you couldn’t care less.

The two drinks he brought back were still sitting on the old table, untouched as if forgotten.

Mingyu’s a bit too close for your liking. You can probably start counting his lashes– or the sparkles in his eyes. But when you open your mouth to joke, so that the tension could leave your body, Mingyu interrupts you and gets even closer.

His tone is serious but you know he’s enjoying this, the corner of his mouth tilting up. “Were you jealous?”

You hate how good Mingyu knows you, and you hate the effect he currently has on you, even though you would normally bathe in it.

You know he knows, so there’s really no need to lie. Even more so when one of the reasons why he rushed back to you was because your eyes met when he was getting your drinks, and he saw you biting your lip. And you know now he doesn’t like it when you do that.

You lean back against the railing even more, the metal digging into your skin as your heart starts to speed up. Your sudden shyness doesn’t waver his interest in the slightest and he only takes a step forward, backing you up against the railing.

“What are you going to do if I say I was?”

At that, Mingyu chuckles, looking to the side before hanging his head down. When he looks at you again, his hand finds its way to your cheek and he carefully brushes over the blush adorning your skin.

The only thing you hear is a small ‘cute’ uttered under his breath before he retracts his hand and puts both of them on the railing behind you, trapping you between him and the end of the balcony.

Mingyu caught you, literally, and there’s not much you can do to stop him from getting what he wants. So you opt the easy way out, speaking the truth. “I was jealous, yeah. For the first time ever actually.”

His smile grows even wider. “Do you love me that much, darling?”

You don’t give him an answer this time, because you know he’s not really waiting for one. He knows and that’s enough for him, now. He also doesn’t really have the correct mindset to play this game with you at his party. The few glasses of alcohol you both took earlier are probably a bit at fault too.

You clear your throat and he speaks up again, voice a bit rougher than earlier. “I guess Hoshi didn’t lie when he told me you liked me that much that you would have prepared two gifts for me.”

“You know Hoshi almost always lies.” You let go of the railing, hands finding their way to Mingyu’s waist, fiddling with his leather belt.

You hear him inhale sharply, looking up to the sky for a short moment before focusing on you again, and definitely not on your hands.

To fight back against the aggressive butterflies causing havoc in his stomach, Mingyu pulls you towards him, one hand on your lower back and the other one squeezing the fat at your hip. He’s in total control, and he’s confident about it too– you couldn’t even blame him for it.

“Oh, almost always? So he’s not lying this time?” Mingyu leans down again, faces inches away from each other, to the point where you could just close the distance between the two of you with a small movement of the head. “Because I do think there’s some truth to it, sweetheart.”

Your hair swings in the wind, and even though it’s cold, you want to stay with Mingyu as long as possible. His body feels warm under your fingertips and you almost gasp when he pushes you against the railing, his hand protecting your lower back from digging into the cold, wet metal.

A short silence fills the air and you don’t know what to do except look away, your face growing hotter and hotter with every minute. Mingyu doesn’t talk either, too busy staring down at you. He makes a mental list in his head of all the things he loves about you, adoring you with his eyes while the music inside resonates from the glass door.

You look away because you can feel him stare, and you wouldn’t know how to react if you were to make eye contact, since the effect Mingyu has on you is continuously making your knees buckle under you.

“Were you interested?”, you suddenly ask, voice much quieter than before. It takes Mingyu a few seconds to realize what you’re talking about when you don’t meet his eyes, deciding to rather look at his shoes instead.

He thought he had made it clear– clearer than anything else– but he didn’t expect you to suddenly shy away while in his arms and close to his chest, all because some girl tried to flirt with him. Deep down, you know he isn’t (if he was, he wouldn’t be with you right now, risking at least a three day-long fever) but you want him to say it.

Mingyu just tilts his head a bit, a soft smile on his face as he tries to show you you have nothing to worry about. “Not in her, no.”

This time you smile back, a quiet ‘good’ falling off your lips as you place your hands on his forearms, palming his muscles through the sleeves. “Just wanted to make sure, y’know.”

He knows.

Now it’s his turn to ask questions though.

“Why didn’t you say anything during Truth or Dare?” The question comes off strong, completely out of nowhere and causing your eyes to widen in shock. You weren’t expecting him to mention the game and how much you had embarrassed yourself.

You’re quick to answer though, in all honesty. “Because the others didn’t have to know.”

Mingyu smirks, liking the way your face heats up whenever he does or says something. He feels like your eyes can’t take him in wholly, going from one part to another frantically as they slide over his upper body. “And can I?”

Your eyebrows furrow after his teasing tone makes an appearance again and he has to stop himself from letting out a chuckle. You’re almost pouting too, lower lip jutting out and unintentionally showing off your pretty lipgloss. You cross your arms, nails digging in your own forearms as the cold suddenly takes over you again. “I think it’s pretty obvious, don’t you think?”

A beat of silence, and then, “I want you to say it.”

He’s begging for it, pleading eyes boring into yours. His voice sounds somewhat more whiny as he starts to rub your sleeveless arms, making the goosebumps disappear. It’s not the first time you’ve seen Mingyu use his puppy eyes, he usually brings them out when someone teases him or when he needs something, and today, it’s the latter.

Once again, you find yourself unable to refuse Mingyu anything.

“I should have said your name when Minghao asked.”

Then he’s smiling again, happy you finally (kinda) admitted what you two should have confessed months earlier. He didn’t think you would give in so quickly, making him beam in excitement. His eyes are full of joy and his cheeks are rosy– you like to think it’s because of what you said, but the alcohol could still be playing a part in it.

You didn’t even feel tipsy anymore, no blurred vision or imperfect balance. It’s the first time you’ve sobered up so quickly, and you entirely thank Mingyu for it.

You truly don’t know how much time passed since you stepped foot onto the balcony, the cold weather dragging every minute out but Mingyu’s presence speeding everything up. The music seemed to have calmed down a lot since the beginning of the night, and when you glance around Mingyu and into the apartment, you notice you can actually now make out the furniture and picture frames in the hallway. The kitchen and hallway are mainly empty but you can still hear chatter and laughter coming from the living room, concluding the rest of the guests are probably scattered all over the couches.

When your thoughts are all over the place, a slight pinch at your hip wakes you up, bringing you back to reality– on the balcony, and still in Mingyu’s arms. He chuckles, smoothing down your dress where he pinched you, rubbing over the now sore spot as you slowly wince.

He looks behind him, into his apartment, where you were previously staring at and comes to the same conclusion as you.

You’re all alone, with no one around.

That thought alone makes him gulp. Fuck, was he always this nervous around girls?

It’s a silly question, because he knows he’s only ever that nervous when it comes to you.

He’s nervous, but he still craves for more so he focuses on you again. On your pretty eyes and how much they glisten in the moonlight. On your soft hair and how perfectly his hand fits in the nape of your neck, playing with a few strands. On your pretty lips and how he wishes he could just kiss away the lipgloss, so that you’d have to apply it again and he could then mess it up again.

Mingyu needs you now, and if that means speaking without a filter, then so be it– a sacrifice he’s more than willing to give.

“Are you going to kiss me now?”

You giggle and he feels dumb. But then you smile so deeply that he falls in love all over again. And he thinks you’re with no doubt the most beautiful soul he’s ever met.

Your hands start to travel back up from his forearms to his biceps, before landing on his shoulders, where they squeeze his muscles, the tension in them all too familiar. You eye him, entirely this time, taking your time to appreciate every single part of him.

You stare a bit too long at his neck and Mingyu blushes, unaware of how he’s supposed to react to this sudden onslaught of attention. Your hands move up to his jaw, holding his face close to yours as you stroke both his cheeks.

You truly have him twisted around your finger.

“Do you want me to?” It's an unnecessary question, but you want him to say it– just like Mingyu wanted you to before. Mingyu thinks he’s on the verge of collapsing, the only thing still keeping him upright are your hands on him and his on your waist and the railing.

He’s desperate as he catches both of your wrists and kisses them each, before bringing your right arm up to wrap around his neck. He’s slow but determined and it sends shivers down your spine. Your nails scratch against the nape of his neck and he groans, clearly affected by it– by you.

“Please, Yn.”

Your left arm soon joins the other one around his neck and Mingyu has to mentally restrain himself from rushing whatever good is supposed to happen. When both your arms are loosely hanging around his neck, your bodies are closer than ever, chests pressed against each other, warmth engulfing you entirely.

Your sweet voice is the last thing he hears before his mind circuits. “Guess it’s time for your second gift then.”

And then you’re standing on your tip-toes, closing the small distance between you two and finally, finally stopping the seemingly endless torture.

Your lips smash against his and it’s so aggressive because you can’t control yourself anymore. His lips feel soft and delicate against yours and you think you might end up breaking them– you wish you would.

Mingyu holds a strong grip onto your waist, his arm circling around it to make sure you don’t shy away again. His other hand is on the side of your neck, holding onto your face as he pushes you against the balcony railing.

One of the first things he notices is your raspberry flavored lip gloss– which he swears he knows he will never get enough of– and the slight hint of alcohol on your lips. It’s enamoring, enticing and everything he’s ever wanted.

You run out of breath quickly but you don’t stop, you refuse to, physically unable to separate yourself from him. It’s Mingyu who backs away first, leaving you desperate for more, chasing after his lips. You gasp for air, head spinning at the utterly new but heavenly feeling while Mingyu attacks your neck, jaw, and everything that could make your eyes roll back.

Your hands are gripping onto his shirt, nails clawing at his back as Mingyu takes pleasure in pressing kisses onto your skin, going from your neck down to your cleavage and stopping when his chin grazes the fabric of your dress.

Mingyu groans when you pull at his hair, biting and sucking at your neck before planting a last kiss on your collarbone, quickly coming back up to your lips. He swears he can’t live anymore without kissing you.

You drag Mingyu closer to you by the collar of his shirt, and then he’s kissing you again. His lips were determined and unrelenting, not letting go of you. He was addicted, goosebumps taking over his body as he bit down on your lower lip. You whined at the metal taste in your mouth, craning your neck for more.

Mingyu chuckled against your lips, kissing them slowly before sliding his tongue against your lower lip to soothe the bite. He’s barely leaving you alive, completely breathless but still– always– aching for more.

His mouth was devouring you and you just couldn’t get enough– both of you, too absorbed in your own little bubble to even notice the weather was becoming gradually worse, rain falling out of the sky in a downpour.

His tongue slid against your lips, again, before entering your mouth. Your hands holding onto Mingyu’s shoulders weren’t enough to get you anchored, legs trembling as he held onto your waist, muscles flexing.

Mingyu’s warmth surrounded you completely, to the point where you felt like you couldn't breathe properly. Mingyu had taken full control over you, as your mind was a total mess, and you were just able to follow his movements and beg for more.

You gripped onto his bicep as you arched your back, the rain drenching both of you to the core– not that you really cared anyway, the way Mingyu’s tongue fought with yours was what truly mattered.

You were ruined– completely and devastatingly ruined for everyone who wasn’t Mingyu.

Then he eventually parted from you, pressing one sweet kiss to your mouth and you almost teared up when you felt him smile against your lips.

Mingyu was beautiful, soaking wet hair sticking to his forehead, cheeks and the tip of his ears spark red and his lips swollen, red and plump from kissing you. His chest is heaving as you stare up at him, not caring in the slightest about the rain messing up your makeup and outfit.

His hands slowly lift up to your face, holding it so softly your heart skips a beat. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone and he leans towards you, nuzzling your nose with his.

Mingyu’s eyes literally shine and your lips part in awe.

You stare too much but Mingyu doesn’t force you to look away, because he’s sure he’s staring just as much.

It’s only when you lean back into his arms that Mingyu notices the lingering taste of raspberry on his lips. He grins and he hopes that your lip color stained his lips, so that when you go back inside, your friends know that you’re his now– not that they weren’t aware before.

And when you lift your head to look at him, arms circled around his waist, your smudged lipgloss is enough to make him want more.

“Happy fucking birthday to me.”

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