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#I think letting them swear worked really well
suiana · 2 days
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(yandere! zombie x gn! survivor reader) (im such a youtube shorts kid bruh this idea came to me because of a video i watched)
did you know that zombies retain their habits from when they were humans?
well you sure as hell do now, because why is your annoying neighbour still following you around?? he's literally fucking rotting???
"shoo! go away!"
you hiss at him, shooting a rubber band at him before quickly climbing up a tree. phew, you wouldn't be bothered by him from here. it's been like this for a few days now, your undead neighbour following you around as you did your best to survive in this ruined world.
you never really liked him, your neighbour that is. he's always been that one weird guy that keeps annoying you ever since he moved in. constantly knocking on your door and asking to have meals together, to getting to and from work at the same times as you... you're so sure that he was stalking you. how could it ever be a coincidence that he just somehow knew when you were going out and coming back from work?
but now you wouldn't ever know and it's not like you wanted to know anyway. ignorance is bliss after all. oh! he's also very stubborn and it's quite apparent in his zombie form.
"bweh."
"go away!"
the zombie hits at the tree you were sitting down on as he looks up at you with what seemed to be puppydog eyes. you could only grimace at the sight before checking through your supplies. shit, you're running out of stuff.
"ugh... i'll need to scavenge for food-"
"guh!"
you raise an eyebrow at your undead admirer before humming. right, you suppose it isn't that bad that you have him around... he gives you stuff that's useful and scares away other mobs (you think he eats them if they get too close to you). you would've actually coddled him like a dog if he wasn't trying to get into your pants or kiss you every second.
"thanks."
you lean forward and snatch the bad of chips from his rotting hands before stuffing it into your bag. mn, you could probably have that for your lunch and dinner tomorrow.
"let's see... i need to find a good place to sleep tonight."
"bwa! buh beh!"
your zombie immediately starts scratching at the tree bark before jutting his lower lip. huh...
"no, i'm not sleeping in your apartment."
"gah!"
you think you're starting to understand zombie language because why are you holding full on conversations with him??
"don't give me that face. you know our apartment complex is riddled with zombies. i don't want to be turned."
"kh... gur! rh..."
"you think i'm trusting you? i swear i saw our old neighbour lurking around there and he was an olympic sprinter."
you shake your finger at the zombie before sighing softly. why did this apocalypse have to happen? things were going great for you before this. you just had a raise and you were so close to landing a date with your hot boss!
if you didn't know any better you'd have thought that your little zombie admirer was the one who kickstarted this zombie apocalypse because of his jealousy. what did he work as before he turned? a scientist?
"tn... jhn... ngh..."
"don't act all sassy with me right now. it's not like i want to sleep in your place to begin with. you'd probably lock me in there with you and i'd be trapped."
"bah!"
rolling your eyes at the sassy undead man, you rest against the trunk of the tree and shut your eyes. might as well get some rest before setting off again.
"i'm going to rest now. help me keep an eye out."
"kah kah. jah?"
"no, i won't kiss you. and no, i most certainly won't reward you with myself. you're rotting, damnit! how many times do i have to tell you that?"
"ui..."
what in the sassy zombie apocalypse have you gotten yourself into?
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jinnie-ret · 17 hours
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stray kids x hybrid!ninth!reader (fem)
genre: light angst, mostly fluffy
content warnings: small swearing, mention of disease, mention of vaccination
word count: 1.8k
summary: the boys are shocked at how your hybrid features present themselves when you are feeling particularly emotional
requested: @shua-f4lmings
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MAIN MASTERLIST
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How could it ever work being a Kpop idol when you were forced to hide a part of our identity every day? Well, you managed somehow. Despite the fact that you were a hybrid, JYPE still accepted your audition and allowed you to become a trainee. You felt fortunate that you didn't face direct discrimination from the company, considering you were part of a rare few, an experimental collective, of children that had turned into hybrids against their will. You see, there had once been terrible news of a new outbreak of an autoimmune disease breaking out, during your childhood, so when a vaccination was created, your parents had rushed at the opportunity to make sure you were safe. Little did you know, did anyone know, that it was in fact a scam. The disease - a hoax. The vaccination - contained a serum that caused you to experience genetic mutations and develop physical attributes very similar to a cat, all because of some deceiving scientists that wanted to experiment.
Luckily, you had learnt to love yourself and your feline features. Your fluffy black ears that helped your hearing become more sensitive, and perhaps even more attuned to music, your tail that would swish and perk up anytime you saw your members or somebody you loved, these all became things that you appreciated. It truly showed your strength and determination to not let anybody get you down, particularly when you used to feel like the black sheep, or, black cat, of the family.
You remember that it was not too long after Chan had gathered you all together as a unit, pre-debut, that you decided to reveal this side of you. After all, you could only wear baggy sweatshirts and beanies for so long.
"Guys, can I tell you something?" you spoke up after you were all sat evaluating a dance practice.
"I think we really should practice this dance again, can it wait?" Chan pondered, not wanting to miss any rehearsal time, especially since the new TV debut show was on the horizon.
"Please, it's important," you had urged them all, your future group members, not wanting to withheld this information from them for any longer.
"Ok, sure," Chan nodded and turned his phone off, before everyone was looking at you as you stood up.
"Is everything ok?" Hyunjin frowned.
"Yeah, I just want to share this side of myself to you. I've not been honest," you began, confident in yourself, just unsure about what their reactions would be.
"If we're going to be a group..." Changbin tilted his head.
"-that's why I'm telling you now! Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you. Umm," you apologised, feeling guilty.
"It's ok," Changbin nodded, seeing the weight of the situation in your eyes.
"Please can you just tell us? The suspense is killing me," Jisung groaned, whining after when Minho smacked him on the back without even looking.
"I don't know how to say it so..." you had taken a deep breath before pulling your beanie off, ruffling your hair back into plsce and ultimately revealing your ears. It had seemed like some sort of headband at first, but seeing the way your ears twitched and pointed at sharp intakes of breath or gasps in the room, showed that they were very real.
Poor Felix was incredibly confused. It was hard enough for the Australian boy to follow the conversation, and even harder to make sense of things as he saw your fluffy cat ears on top of your head.
"What the-" Jeongin's jaw dropped.
"Why are your ears moving like that..." Seungmin was astonished.
"I'm a cat hybrid. There was an experiment gone wrong a while back, masked as a 'cure', a vaccination, when really it was an experiment. So, umm, yeah, I'm sort of like a test subject.." you trailed off as Chan came to stand in front of you, raising his hand slightly.
"Can I touch your ears?" he questioned, which honestly wasn't what you were expecting. Instead, you thought it was time for him to go into his words of wisdom mode, but really even he couldn't avoid his own curiosity, as he waited for your response.
"Oh, yeah sure," you shrugged, a smile working it's way into your face as you felt a soothing scratch and pat to the head. It was so relaxing that you shut your eyes for a moment.
And when you opened your eyes...
"My turn! My turn!" Han was suddenly in front of you, Seungmin and Jeongin surprisingly waiting too.
"Wow, so cute!" Hyunjin was looking at you with the biggest heart eyes, and you could also lightly hear Chan explaining to Felix what had just transpired.
"Cute, haha," Changbin chuckled, stood next to you and observing your reactions.
"So you guys don't find it weird then?" you laugh as you ask, knowing that they were entranced.
"No! Never!" Seungmin shook his head.
"Me?" Felix came up behind Seungmin, half hugging his arm before asking permission to also pet your ears.
"Yes," you smiled reassuringly at the shy Felix.
The only one of the boys who hadn't interacted with you after you revealed your big secret was Minho, and perhaps that was because he simply couldn't comprehend that his fellow band member he had naturally grown protective over was also part cat. His favourite animal by a mile.
"I knew there was something feline about you," Minho hugged you tightly, the only one not to go straight for the ears.
"That's all the approval I needed."
Post revelation, you were able to feel even more relaxed around your members at the dorms, and wow, when they saw your tail, to be frank, they lost their shit. That was a story for another day though. You had more important things to think about them, such as the meeting that had been scheduled with the company before filming began. Understandably, in your opinion, they had found some medication, hybrid suppressants, that would hide your features. Some people would have been offended by the gesture but in reality, you were relieved. You just wanted to debut and you didn't want to take any attention away from the boys with your obvious differences in genetics. Although the first day of taking the pills felt rough, especially with your body having to withdraw physical features, you went through with it, initially explaining to the boys that it's what you wanted. Whether they believed you or not at the time, you weren't sure, until today...
"No way!" you gasped, clutching the blanket for dear life as you sat up from your comfy spot curled up on the sofa. Once again, you had chosen to use your vacation off from work as a chance to binge watch your favourite show, and finally, you had made it to the end.
"Don't roll credits, don't roll credits, don't- NO!" you cried out in disbelief. As if they had just killed off your favourite character. You sobbed, curling into yourself, ears flat against your head and tail curled up against you, like you were trying to protect yourself from the TV screen even though you had already turned it off and thrown the remote away from you in distress.
You hadn't realised that your hybrid features had popped out, not that it would be a problem as you were on break, but you must have forgotten to habitually take your tablets, the ones you bad taken the previous day finally wearing off. Even with the box being on the coffee table in front of you, the idea had left your mind.
It was long forgotten now.
It was a pitiful sight, the way you were trembling as you cried, but with your physical hybrid features also came mental ones, emotional ones, instincts that you couldn't help but follow. That emotional attachment that cats found with their people, happened to you and your favourite TV show. You felt hurt, betrayed, distraught.
"Rori?" Minho was the first to call out in concern, as the boys piled in from their outing at the beach. Yes, Rori, that was your stage name. It was a running joke between you all that Minho adopted Dori and her namesake was because of you. They weren't that dissimilar right?
"What's wrong? What's happening?" Felix called out in confusion, still taking off his sandy shoes by the front door. The boys had wanted you to come along with them, but you hated water, and would much rather laze around in the comfort of your own home.
"Aigoo, your tail is all fluffy," Jeongin patted your head, yet you continued to cry. The eight boys looked between each other in confusion until Jisung spotted the medication on the table and looked at Chan pointedly, hoping he took would connect the dots he had just found.
"Oh, Rori, we thought you didn't like taking the, it's ok. It'll be ok, we'll sort this," Chan rubbed your back gently.
"We can announce it to the fans," Hyunjin suggested, and the others nodded along.
"We'll have a word with the company," Changbin added, their plan already formulating before your very eyes.
"They'll still love you," Jisung didn't like seeing you cry.
"They won't care, you're still the same person," Seungmin spoke up, last to enter the room. He had soon caught onto the situation though, only after rinsing his feet from the sand that lingered. He couldn't barely the itchy feeling.
"What are you talking about?" you sniffled, lifting your head out from your arms and your ears lifted in curiosity.
"Aren't you sad because of, you know, having to take the tablets...?" Chan was confused, so much so that his hand had even stopped it's comforting motions on your back.
"No!!" you cried out, tail fluffing up even more, irritation flaring up ever so slightly as you wished you didn't have to explain yourself. It would much easier if these humans just knew what you wanted!
"Oh," Minho pursed his lips in thought.
"Then what's wrong?" Jeongin urged, eager to hear what was truly wrong.
"-died! It's not fair! They were my favourite and they were so kind and-" you whimpered tearfully, already having flashbacks of the final episode you and just watched.
"It's because of a show?!" Felix rose his eyebrows in surprise, leaning back to try and see your whole face.
"Really?" Seungmin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
"It's not just a show!!!" you wailed louder, tail swishing now as you felt a mix of sadness and annoyance.
"Ok it's not just a show, we know that, chill, kitty," Jisung patted your head but Minho nudged him warningly, knowing you didn't like that nickname.
"Ji-" you huffed.
"But it's definitely not because of the suppressants, right?" Changbin cut you off, which was annoying at first, having being interrupted twice in a row, yet you were appreciative of the change in topic.
"No, no, I don't care about taking them. I'm fine with that," you took a deep breath and wiped your remaining tears away, "I just might need 2-3 business days to recover."
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tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @kpopmenace143 @haodore @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @his-angell @2minstan @skzoologist @lovingchan @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria @theo4eve @linoalwaysknows @royal-shinigami @jolly04 @turtledove824 @yangbbokari @thisrandomgoofy15 @lieslab @hannamoon143 @arumlilyeclipse
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winterzsurprise · 1 day
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Change My Mind [4]
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Pairing: BTS x reader
SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.
Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.
Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor
Words: 7.1k
[1] [2] [3] [4]
nothing much to say this time but this is not beta read, my friend who was supposed to read it is unfortunately unavailable, idk if the argument makes sense in the end cause I personally run from confrontations so idk how to write good arguments so yeah.
This is a bit shorter than the previous chapters but the next one is longer again since-- GUNSHOT
ANYWAYS, Happy reading!!
Also I hope I got the taglist right, please if you don't want to be in it, do tell me. If anyone else wants to be added to the taglist, please comment down below.
TAGLIST: @wildestdreamsblog @canarystwin @prettywheenicry @jmnscutie @sassy-snassy @misuguru @11thenightwemet11 @yoongibaybee @rinkud
___________
In all of your years working for Bangtan, as one of their staff and the youngest stylist, you've been included in every life events and celebrations there is. Birthdays, first wins, comebacks, everything there is even something as important as family dinners. You've never skipped or forgot a single member's birthday, period.
But as Guwon stands before you, a plane ticket to Jeju in hand with the departure scheduled tomorrow and returning just a day short before the tour, you find yourself at a crossroad. It’s Jungkook's birthday tomorrow and Jimin has planned a small party tonight at their dorms before the formal celebration at the company the next day.
While you've been trying to rectify the awkward air between you and the maknae since his confession by starting conversations, the maknae only replied to you with silence before promptly vanishing in two seconds flat.
But despite the strain in your relationship, you could never think of not attending his birthday. You'd never thought to be petty enough to return his energy. His present was already wrapped in a pretty bow under your bed for a week now for Christ's sake!
“I-I can't… It's one of their birthday’s tomorrow.”
“Oh.” His smile falls. “Can't you just give your gift today? Surely they can party for one night without you.”
It was a genuine question, logical and true but for some reason, his tone raised concerns within you. You swear to the highest heavens you could hear a bit of irritation hidden beneath dejection.
You winced. “I can't, I'm really sorry… I-I can pay you back what you've spent for the trip. I'm really sorry, I just never missed any of their birthdays. I swear I'll make it up to you next time!”
Guwon's shine dulled the further you went on and your heart twinged with guilt. In another universe where some humans gained animalistic features, he'd have dog ears pressed to his skull, staring at you with wide and glistening eyes.
You waved off the image immediately, disturbed.
“It's also my fault for not asking for your schedule. The tour is next week and then you'd be away from me for months so I kind of… panicked. I'm sorry.”
He should've known better than not to do research on your bosses , a voice at the back of your head scoffed and you waved the thought away as you put a hand over his. 
“I should've notified you as well. Tell me if those are refundable or not, I'll pay you back.”
He waves you off. “Cute but I've been raised well to know not to ask a lady to pay for my mistake, so don't worry that pretty head of yours about not being able to go.”
The date continued and thankfully, no dead air remained and conversation eased out of the both of you. Guwon sorted out his reservations early on, he'd stopped eating every once in a while to pick up his phone to either receive a call or respond to an email.
With how often he answered the chimes of his phone and how long it took for him to finally put it down, you figured he must've prepared a lot for the week and it made you feel more guilty every time he did it.
Today, he brought you both to an indoor park he rented for an hour for a picnic. It was on the outskirts of Seoul and he also cooked most of the food placed between you both, his mother however, was responsible for the side dishes.
Speaking of mothers, yours called earlier to congratulate you on whatever it was she was adamant on keeping secret but you already knew what it was and you were glad Jungkook’s mother gave birth on such a perfect day almost 21 years ago.
Guwon was planning to propose to you during the trip.
It left a bitter taste in your tongue. Sure you had expected to be married to him at some point but you barely knew the man outside of his colorful stories, and knew none of his actual behavior in his home. You haven't even visited his house yet for a vibe check so why is he rushing too fast?
Despite the guilt in your heart, relief is more palpable knowing you'd have more time to figure out if you truly want Guwon in your life.
Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you took a glance at it.
[17:29] Jinnie: I'll pick you up at your apartment by 6.
[17:29] Jinnie: please be prepared😊
Seeing the t̶h̶r̶e̶a̶t̶e̶n̶i̶n̶g̶ friendly smile attached at the end of his message, you're suddenly reminded of the present. You hadn't told any of them of your date today, something that had drawn out longer than you thought it would. You frowned, fingers drumming on the side of your phone as you pondered on what to reply.
You had promised to help with the food yet here you are, out of town and on a picnic date inside a garden observatory.
“Who is it?” Guwon asks, seeing the frown on your face. Your mind immediately picks up the odd tone he has.
“Their oldest, Jin. We're supposed to cook together before the rest comes home.”
He furrowed his eyebrows. “I thought the birthday was tomorrow?”
“Oh, we're planning a small party before it, just his closest friends.”
Guwon nodded, eyes distant and thoughtful as he took a bite of his sandwich before continuing. “What time are you expected?”
“Their eldest said he'll pick me up at six.”
He looked at his watch and frowned deeper. “It's already 5:30. Maybe I can drive you to their dorm instead?”
You immediately shook your head. Remembering the promise you had with Jin and Jungkook. The maknae had recently begun to look at your direction again yesterday after Hoseok had talked to him, inviting Guwon would ruin the smallest progress you’ve had. 
Not to mention, you can't reveal their dorm location even if he is to be your husband. Company rules and you've signed an NDA.
“Company rules, can't reveal their location.”
“If we're going to be a couple soon, I'm going to need to know more about these guys you're hanging around. I don't trust them.” He says as he turns to the picnic basket to take another sandwich out, unable to see the twitch in your eye. 
“Well, you have to learn how to, they’re my bosses and my best friends.”
“I’m having a hard time believing that. I mean,” He scoffed. “Did you notice how they look at me whenever I’m around? That rapper—Yun–Yoonmi stared at me like I’m an insect he stepped on.”
Anger boils deep within your soul and you’re sure it's visibly contorting your face at this point but the man didn’t notice it and continued chewing on his food.
“Besides, their location is pretty well known already, no? Just a couple searches away, why be so secretive about it?”
You refrain yourself from frowning and it takes all of the energy within you to not react as wildly as you would’ve. It was amazing how the illusion of something good could shatter with only a few words and you set down the sandwich in your hand.
There's something terribly humbling upon realization that the man you're talking to is indeed, a man.
Noticing the shift in the air, he set down his cup of coffee with a slight raise to his brows.
“Why are you looking at me like that? It's true though, I just think it's pointless to try to hide it when some people already know, so what's the use of trying to hide their dorm?”
Where's Jimin and Taehyung at times like this?
You dreaded the conversation you're about to bring up to your mother once she calls, and could hear her scolding you for having such high standards. Guwon being indifferent to the possibility of being stalked, and your boys’ privacy being breached immediately raise red glaring flags over his head.
A lawyer himself who shrugged at the threat of crimes, the joke just writes itself.
“Don't look at me like that, I'm just… trying to understand why you didn't want me to interact with them after our second date. It makes a man overthink, know?”
Whatever thread you were holding onto, a sliver of hope that you might've misheard or misunderstood him, decayed within you and you picked up your phone to stuff into your bag.
You had hoped, wished, that after your deep talk on the night Seokjin had scolded your ass to the nines he'd understand your dynamic better with the boys or at least try. You could already hear Yoongi's drawl out ‘I told you so’ as you packed up, even imagine him bringing up Namjoon’s statistical analysis and how I should've listened to it.
“If you're implying what I think you are implying then I don't think we should meet each other anymore.”
Tossing the food back into the basket carelessly, you slung your bag over your shoulder and stand, only for his hand to shoot out to grab your wrist in an iron grip.
“Wait, I-I'm sorry! I just got… jealous, that's all.”
Even with the apologetic look displayed clearly on his face and the fear swimming with them, nothing could bring back to life the trust you had on the man and you pushed his hand away.
“I can't stay with someone who can't understand why those boys are important to me, sorry Guwon but we're over. Don't you ever contact me again.”
“You can't possibly be breaking up with me because I said what I felt? Over them? Really?!”
You don't even recognize the man sitting opposite you.
He knew, he saw how close you are with them and even sat through the stories you told him during your dates. Guwon knew you cherished every single boy in the group yet he disregarded it all because of jealousy? If that isn't a warning, then you might be blind.
“It's like I never even knew you at all.”
He scoffed. “Same with you. Can't believe I actually believed your words telling me you were friends but I saw how those boys treated you!”
Sure your relationship with your bosses is unusual but it was built from hardship and loneliness from being taken away from home and surrendering their time for a glimpse of fame in a field where they're at a huge disadvantage. It was special in ways not many could fathom because in their head, what reason would there be for a man to befriend a girl other than having the intention to fuck them?
It was the mindset of the old and “ wise” and it had infuriated you to the nines.
For him to reveal himself as one of those old cogs when he expressed himself as a gentleman and be convinced by his act of kindness, even the word disappointing could express how greatly upset you are.
“Bet you've slept with all of them at least once, hell, I don't even know why your mother bothered when you're already busy whoring yourself for seven men.”
Anger flooded your veins, it was hot and rampaging under your skin. Before your mind could even register your actions, your hand had already moved, making contact with his cheek in one swift motion. The slap echoed like a clap of thunder in the silence of the observatory.
Even after seeing the angry red mark beginning to mar his skin, your anger remained.
“Goodbye Guwon, I hope we never see each other again.”
Walking away was easier said than done.
You got picked up by Guwon earlier and since you've run far enough from the indoor garden, away from your supposed ticket back home, you're now waiting for an uber at a small library sequestered between towering and loudly designed buildings. You had half a mind to ask your friends that lived nearby for a ride but decided against it.
They might be busy with their own family. 
Unlike you.
As you sit there waiting for your ride to come, your mind takes you to your mother and her genuine glee at the thought of you getting married. Ever since your second date, she had been sending you photographs of weddings for inspirations, links to event places and tailors, and flower shops where you could have your bouquet arranged. She was beyond ecstatic, if she heard what had happened, she would be devastated. 
A loud, exasperated sigh left your lips, the volume catching the attention of the bookkeeper who was quick to shush you.
As you waited longer with only the deafening silence of the library to accompany you, doubt began to form at the back of your head. 
Was breaking up with Guwon really the right choice? 
An angry, louder voice screamed at you for doubling down on your decision. You knew your boys longer than you knew him, if the trip had gone through, Guwon would've proposed to you despite the short time you've known each other. Something you didn't want. Not to mention, he would've gone through the idea while contemplating on your loyalty.
So yes, it was the right decision!
But you were to be married .
Your mother was so happy to have finally matched you with a guy you attended three dates with. The thought made your heart clench, she was excited to see you on the altar and has most likely spread it around your town with pride. She was about to have three married children.
Gods, you don't want to imagine the conversation later on, she'd be distraught.
Your phone buzzed and you dreaded looking at the screen to see your mother's name. Luckily, it was Jin instead.
           [18:01] Jinnie: where are you?
           [18:01] Jinnie: knocked on your door but the neighbor said you were out.
           [18:02] Jinnie: you're late😒
           [18:02] Jinnie: I'm going to have them deduct your pay this month for making me wait
           [18:03] You: I'm sorry your highness for disappointing you, please forgive this servant of yours🤧
           [18:03] You: was on a date
           [18:03] You: not that it matters anymore, I broke up with Guwon
           [18:04] You: does it even count? I mean, we weren't official, he didn't ask me to be his girlfriend yet.
You paused, face souring as you realized what you've just typed. 
Guwon hadn't asked for your hand officially even after three dates, he had the chance on your second date during the stroll but he didn't. Despite this, he went and asked your parents for their blessings when he hadn't even asked you first.
           [18:04] You: wow I just remembered that
           [18:04] You: then he had the audacity to propose to me!
There's a pause in between his usually instant replies and you had an inkling he's already spreading the gossip around the group somehow.
           [18:08] Jinnie: wow there's a LOT to unpack there
           [18:08] Jinnie: but worry not
           [18:08] Jinnie: I'll have Jimin get us the strongest drink there is for later
           [18:09] Jinnie: we'll drink that sorrow away and you're going to tell me what the hell you meant by proposing while not being official 
           [18:10] You: I don't think I should tell you that…
           [18:10] You: considering… ya know
           [18:11] You: also don't you guys have an early schedule tomorrow?🤨
           [18:12] Jinnie: bold of u to assume I don't want hear how massive of a failure he is
           [18:12] Jinnie: nothing better than hearing your enemy’s downfall😌
           [18:13] Jinnie: also what do you mean ‘you guys’??? 
           [18:13] Jinnie: you're literally our make-up artist!
You scoffed at the message but before you could type up a reply, the notification from your uber app popped out to inform you about your driver now waiting outside the library and you walked out.
           [18:23] You: and just because I'm your make-up artist, doesn't mean I should let you all get away with this
           [18:23] You: and I won't even drink much :pp
           [18:24] Jinnie : if I ever see you stumbling around the house, you owe me 100000
           [18:25] You: WOW
           [18:25] You: AREN'T YOU RICH ALREADY????
           [18:25] Jinnie: money is money😌
           [18:26] Jinnie: just get ur ass over here already before I add more zeros to the bet
The smell of Jin’s cooking, both spicy and something savory, welcomed you first before the sound of sizzles did. At the sound of the door closing, Jin appears round the corner with an apron hung from his neck and a tong stained with red bean paste in the other.
Despite the disappointed look he's going for, reminiscent of a mother who caught her daughter coming home past curfew, the relief you feel upon seeing his handsome face after earlier was palpable and the knots in your stomach loosened.
“I should have your pay deducted for showing up late.”
You winced. “Sorry boss, can I appeal for a heartbreak discount on that?”
“Only if you give me a hug and cry on my shoulder.” 
He opened his arms wide, plush lips widening into a smile when you approached to wrap your arms around his torso. The fabric of his sweatshirt was soft and the scent of new laundry overtook his usual scent of freshly baked cakes and gentle vanilla perfume, it almost made you boneless in his hold. Moreso when he started stroking your head while the other ran up and down your back with his palm, fingers still wrapped around the tongs.
He didn't pull away despite the awkward position with him bending down and practically melting against your smaller form. In your years of being friends, you could never recall Seokjin being the first to pull away from a hug and once more, you're grateful for that.
“You wanna talk about it?”
“I’ll do it while cooking, we might burn whatever you're cooking if I told you all about it here.”
He shook his head, his rubbing motions on your back turning into gentle pats. “We can just order it online if it does, I even bet that they'll still eat it even if it was. Hoba was relentless today.”
His nails raked through your scalp and you resisted the urge to shiver. 
“He was being an ass towards you guys. Then when I defended you all, he accused me of sleeping around.”
His first instinct was to curse the man down to his ancestors who bred with each other until he was born, but stopped himself when he realized what he's about to say and cleared his throat.
If his arms coiled tighter around you, you only leaned into him further.
“Normally I would say "I told you so" but I know Yoongi has it covered later. So I'll just say—"
"Don't you dare. Jin don’t you dare finish that sentence."
"I knew it."
He let out a cry when your hand slapped his arm but it quickly dissolved into a fit of squeaky laughter and he pushed your head back under his chin before you could even continue hitting him. Hand continuing their petting as you let out an annoyed groan.
“My mom was so excited! God. I hate that bastard for disappointing me and her. She was sending me links to wedding planners and dressmakers because apparently he was supposed to take me to Jeju tomorrow and propose.”
He stills in your arms, the hand in your hair stopping its motion as his breath hitched in his chest. It took him a moment before he recollected himself and continued to pat your head, pressing a kiss on top of your crown.
“I'm sure auntie will understand, I know that she would've wanted you to find a good man like she and your sister did.”
A voice at the back of your head told you he was referring to himself but you threw the thought away as soon as it went.
“Personally, I would've taken the ticket and ditch him.” He laughed and you hit his arm with a barely concealed grin. “All I'm saying is that free things should be used and if it's gifted then better! You get to decide how to use it so refund it!”
“I don't think it's that easy.”
“Just say Kim Seokjin of BTS asked for a refund and they'll immediately accept it.”
Pulling away, you playfully rolled your eyes at him, earning you one last laugh as you walked to the kitchen where the sizzles of the food being fried on the pan had long been muted. Jin followed you with an onslaught of words spilling from his lips, justifying and detailing how he would've done in your place as you placed your bag down on the island counter before reaching for the spare apron.
Hearing his rants filling the silence made it easier to relax, made forgetting how upset you were at Guwon a walk in the park.
It was familiar and his voice, despite his fiery indignation, was oddly comforting.
Soon enough, your conversation halts and you both position yourself over the counter, following his orders mindlessly; which is mostly dicing the vegetables and the slabs of meat he marinated last night in soy sauce and spices. 
You found the repetitive motions of chopping soothing and silently thanked the man now hovering over the saucepan, gently stirring the seaweed soup. 
As if sensing your eyes boring holes on the back of his head, his ears reddened and he looked over his shoulder to meet your gaze.
“W-what is it? Wh-why are you looking at me like that?”
“Just admiring how huge your shoulders are and how reliable you are.” 
You recalled how dearly he cared for his group despite the exhaustion from practicing singing and dancing the whole day. Despite being the youngest in his family, Jin took on the mantle of the oldest brother in the group easily and selflessly provided for his members alongside Yoongi and Namjoon. If it were anybody, you were sure the boys would've been sick or had long given up, especially when the company was about to file bankruptcy in their earlier years.
From the bone shattering dances, exhausting practices and routines stretching from dawn till dusk, you were thankful Seokjin was there to catch the others when they fall.
It was a hard task nobody would've assumed since selfishness is a built-in trait of a human yet Seokjin proved you wrong when he stayed up every night despite the muscle cramps and exhaustion weighing his bones to cook for his members, taking the role of the eldest like it was a second nature despite being the youngest in his family.
He barked out a half-hearted laugh as his red ears brightened from the compliment. “I already know that of course!”
“Thank you for everything, Jin.”
His face crumpled when he laughed bashfully, the bright hue in his ears crawling to dusk his cheeks as well. It didn't take long before he recovered and like clockwork, in reaction to being flustered by compliments, he got defensive and raised the saucer threateningly at you.
“Ya! If you're planning to compliment me, at least be original! I'm done hearing about how wide my shoulders are from ARMY and how reliant I am from the others! We've been together for years, do better and be original with your compliments!”
It was a joke, obviously.
But staring at the older man childishly brandishing his cooking utensil like a bludgeoning weapon, you couldn't help but ponder about what truly pulled you into him only to realize that you've never truly dove deeper than surface level details. It was disappointing to find out how shallow you've been when expressing your appreciation for the man.
Like he said, you've always pointed out how reliable he is but never have you pointed out the small things such as the warm food he claimed have been extras and the hot soups sectioned off for you on cold days.
He was the first to approach you on the first day despite being the member who mostly kept to himself, asking you if you wanted to celebrate their Rookie of the Year win with them instead of the rowdy staff behind you. 
The first one to build a bridge leading to this deep companionship you had with the rest of the members, have you really never thanked him for that?
“You're so caring and humble despite your background and where you are right now. If it was anybody else, they would've left the boys to fend for themselves once they were able to yet you didn't stop cooking for them, for us. I don't think I have ever met a man so down to earth and as loving as you are,” You paused. “Well, except Jimin but if you want something more original I'd say I love your hands even when you think they're weird because they—”
You didn't even realize Jin crossed the distance between you both until his hands clasped around your lips, silencing you completely.
Unlike earlier with only his ears blushing, his cheeks now glowed red, the flushed skin spreading down to his neck, continuing past the collar of his dark blue pajamas. When your eyes meet, you find his glistening with unshed tears no doubt touched by your hastily put together declaration of your appreciation for him. 
When it was clear you wouldn't continue your rant, his arms fell to your shoulders and pulled you into a tight embrace. 
His violent heartbeats thudding against his chest was the first thing you've heard before you registered the stuttered exhales and his gentle saccharine scent filling your senses, clouding your brain completely. For a moment, it was just you and him in the kitchen, hugging a little longer than friends should be.
But then again, since when have you guys ever drawn the line on how platonic touches should last?
“God… You gotta stop doing that.”
“I'm just following what you told me like a good dongsaeng and I think I did exceedingly well on it. Does that guarantee a deduction on my pay deduction?”
There's an odd, invisible weight that lifted off of you, something you didn't even realize you were carrying. But there's also a tinge of guilt pinching the edges of your heart.
Jin was the first to approach you, and the first to confess four years ago. He was all shy looks and sweet smiles, his sweet words accompanied by a bouquet of flowers that must've cost him more than he could've gotten from being an idol of a new group. 
When Jin loves, he gives his all and doesn't think twice to give half of himself as well. In a way, he and Yoongi were alike, just with different approaches.
He was open and unapologetic while Yoongi was subtle and often silent.
His laugh twinkled in your ears but it dwindled later on, as if he remembered something towards the end of his mirth. “You're driving me crazy, how am I supposed to move on when you're this lovely?”
Hearing him confirm your suspicion about his crush—is it even called that at this point?—relieved you from an unknown anxiety most likely sparked by Jungkook's words a few nights ago. Why are you even relieved hearing him still liking you when all you've done is hurt him?
“You're such an idiot, you know that?”
“Love makes you do the stupidest thing but I don't think I've ever regretted ever falling for you.”
He pulls away, a gentler, softer smile now tugging his lips up.
“God, you made me sappy! My god, my soup!” 
Even without the warmth of his embrace, you could feel it radiate in the small space of the kitchen. You continued your work as Jin fuzzed about the seaweed soup behind you, bathing in the domesticity of it all.
Your phone vibrates loudly in your bag on the island counter. Wiping your hand on your apron, you opened it to see Jimin’s messages.
           [18:56] Mimi: seokjin hyung told me to buy the strongest alcohol 
           [18:57] Mimi: any idea why he’s being weird?
           [18:57] You: I’ll tell jin that you called him weird
           [18:57] You: but yes
           [18:57] You: I’ll tell you all later why
           [18:58] Mimi: 🤨
           [18:58] Mimi: not if I get you drunk in the first ten minutes
           [18:58] You: I’d like to see you try, pretty boy
Your phone vibrated again. Namjoon had texted you, seeing the preview you rolled your eyes.
            [18:59] Joonie: Seokjin hyung didn’t say but I already figured it out
            [18:59] Joonie: You'd hear enough from Yoongi hyung later but
[18:58] Joonie: I told you so
[18:58] You: I hope you trip and fall on shit🥰
[18:59] Joonie: Love you too, noona😁
[18:59] You: blocked🚫
“I'm not seeing enough chopping, young lady. Get back to your station!” Jin jokingly scolds. With a laugh, you return to your spot.
By the time some of the boys arrived—except Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung, no doubt pre-gaming somewhere—it was already ten and some of the dishes were plated, ready to be eaten in the dining room. If it wasn't for both your and Jin's advanced thinking to ready the bowl of rice and their plates beforehand, they would have starved to death as Yoongi dramatically puts it before blaming Hoseok for draining them out the whole day.
The man in question just laughed in response before shrugging and rebuking their ‘accusations’, saying it wasn't even that hard. To this, Yoongi grumbled under his breath and Namjoon rolled his eyes.
A few minutes later, the maknaes entered, cheeks all flushed except for Jimin who was holding up a bag full of canned alcohol as if it was game from an all-day hunt.
You thanked Jimin silently for drinking the birthday boy tipsy enough to make the dinner energetic instead of the awkwardness you thought it'd be due to what happened a few days ago. There's fleeting eyes you've caught in between jokes he made, either pouring with adoration or longing, you tried to not to pay it much mind.
But of course, the alcohol pouring could only go for so long before you're all lounging in the living room to talk about anything that comes to mind. It was half an hour short from the clock tickling to twelve, signifying Jungkook's actual birthday.
The conversation started off tame with Taehyung questioning the animals who sleep standing to something more elaborate with Yoongi asking everyone's opinion about some decrypt conspiracy theory surrounding the rich of the west. It was all fun and games when Taehyung, lost in his own mind running with the most random thought, sluggishly pointed at you and asked:
“Wh-why aren't you checking your phone? G-Guwon hyung haven't been texting you yet?”
Many heads turned to you who was practically boneless in between a tipsy Hoseok and a still sober Yoongi. You didn't even need to look to know the look of concern Jin was throwing your way.
But everything was hazy, your head throbbing from the alcohol. The words slipped past your lips before you could think about it.
“We parted ways… He accused me of sleeping around when I said I didn't want to go on a trip with him tomorrow ‘cause I didn't want to skip Jungkookie's birthday.”
Hoseok patted your shoulder and Yoongi nodded, face indifferent as usual. Despite the reaction of the boys on both sides, not everyone in the circle held the same opinion it seems.
“You didn't have to decline it, noona. You-you’ve been with us for years, missing one wouldn't hurt me much.”
Jungkook's voice was softer as if he had sobered up from the revelation and you waved him away.
“What are you saying? I couldn't leave when we weren't alright.” You glimpsed at Jin before continuing. “Besides, he was planning to propose and I'm glad he couldn't anymore.”
In your drunken mind, the information didn't carry much weight but the pin drop silence following your words did, you guessed that it must've been. However, it didn't last long when Taehyung jumped up to his feet and punched the air as if Korea just scored the final score in FIFA.
The boys look at him with wide eyes, shocked by his reaction. Jimin recovers and tries to tug him down but a drunk Taehyung is determined, with a will stronger than a monk's resilience and patience, no one could stop him from doing what he wanted.
And that was bumping his glass on your forehead, a little harder than it should've been if he was sober and you reel back, a hand over your forehead.
“Noona! you're free again! Do you know what that means?!”
“Ok that's enough for you tonight. Let's get you to bed.” Jimin says, chuckling awkwardly as he stands behind his best friend, wrapping his arms around his waist before dragging him away.
“Why? Can't I just congratulate noona from recognizing something was off instead of ignoring it like most do? Noona,” He turned to you, bottom lip jutted out. “It's not bad that I'm celebrating right?”
Seokjin’s laugh was nervous when he rose to usher the man away as well. “Alright, lets all calm down so we don't accidentally say something while drunk.”
“Fuck yeah! I-I don’t even know why I even believed his lies, he’s a lawyer for fucks sake!”
“Not that it ever stopped you before. I still don't understand why you couldn't have married one of us instead.” Jungkook cuts in, suddenly irritated.
Somehow, the tension in the room grew tenfold and everyone sits up, alert and ready to interfere if their youngest decides to let the alcohol take control of him. Your brain clears once it registered the annoyance in his voice, heart dropping to the soles of your feet.
“Jungkook—”
“I just think it's a bullshit excuse and you know it. You told that to Jin-hyung four years ago and have repeated it ever since. We’re all adults now, we can handle a little rejection and who’s to say we can’t date when we’re the only idol running the company. You say it's because you don’t want to choose but aren’t you just instilling false hope in us?” 
He stood as he grew more agitated but Jin pushed him down, eyes stern as he stared down at their youngest. Seeing the conflict brew between them, the growing guilt built by years of spending time with them reawakened.
It tied your stomach in a knot and felt like a building had dropped onto your heart.
As if sensing your emotions, Yoongi’s hand found your shoulder to give it a squeeze.
“You’re not thinking straight so stop it,” Jin excuses as he turns to you with an apologetic smile. “He’s just drunk, he doesn’t—”
“I know what I’m saying and I think you’re being too biased here hyung!”
“Jungkook…” Hoseok calls from next to you, voice low, a warning.
“You too! She’s also your friend, why aren’t you pointing out how she’s just playing with us? Why are you only calling me out?”
“Because you’re being a stupid drunk right now, Jungkook. Stand down .” Yoongi ordered, voice firm and warning. His arms are crossed as he stared their youngest down but the maknae wasn’t intimidated by it, if anything, the fire in the older man’s eyes only fueled the anger boiling within him.
In years you’ve watched over them, never once has Yoongi scolded their youngest past Run BTS contents, leaving the reprimanding to their oldest and leader. For him to call him out and seeing them grow agitated by each other’s presence, dread loomed over you with your nightmares threatening to come true. 
This isn’t how tonight’s party was supposed to go.
“Isn’t there anyone who’d agree with me at how absurd all of this is?!” His head snapped at Namjoon who’s watching with a careful eye. “Hyung, surely you can also see it!”
Throughout the exchange, Namjoon had sat back and watched the interaction from the sidelines instead of interfering on the first hint of a fight breaking out. Even when the situation becomes a little aggressive, he stays silent but you don’t doubt that he’d be the first to stand if the disagreement becomes volatile and inching towards physical.
That's what he always has done, observed and let the high rise of emotions eventually tides down to a calm on their own. He's a leader, he's supposed to be fair and to do so, he must first understand both sides before taking action. He also trusts his own team to temper their own ire after years of being together.
But now that he's forced to join the argument, he sighed and stood. Seokjin stepped away as he approached their youngest with both hands placed on his shoulders to sit him back down. 
Obediently, Jungkook follows.
“While I do see where you’re coming from, I think it's a bit unfair that you’re blaming her for being scared.” Jungkook opens his mouth but a firm shake of Namjoon’s head shuts him up. “Don’t start again. There’s a power imbalance here kid. If her choosing someone could cause a problem, we’d get off scot free but not her. In the eyes of the company, she’s disposable—”
“But she’s not.”
“She is. In their eyes at least. By having her around causing problems for us, she’s nothing but a thorn in their side that they should remove. If she had dated one of us and eventually broke up, it would cause an awkwardness and riff between guys especially if it ended on a bad note and BigHit won't stand for it. You know how important this job is for her, right?”
They stared at each other for a long while, both unrelenting in silence. You all waited with bated breath, Namjoon was the only one who could diffuse the situation and if he fails, then who else could possibly calm the maknae down?
Turning to the clock, you bit your lip at the time.
It was nearing Jungkook's actual birthday, three minutes short before both hands ticked to twelve.
Which meant it would have to start during the denouement of an argument. The thought planting discomfort in your stomach. Such a happy celebration shouldn't be welcomed like this.
In the midst of raised voices and pointing fingers, Taehyung has completely sobered up from where he sat between Jimin’s thighs, staring beady eyed at the situation in his friend’s arms. Sensing your gaze, he turned to you with a sheepish, apologetic smile when Jungkook's heavy sigh broke through the silence.
His head fell to his chest as Namjoon removed his hands from his shoulders yet his eyes remained on their youngest’s hunched form.
“You get what we're trying to say now, do you?”
“Y-yeah…”
“Anything you want to say, gguk?” Namjoon was talking to him like he was a kindergarten teacher and you both were kids who fought on the sandbox for the shovel, warm and understanding but the disappointment in his tone is clear as day.
Jungkook doesn't reply but he shoots up to his feet, surprising Hoseok next to you, with eyes still trained on the floor.
When he did look up to meet your gaze, it was brief and cut off by a deep bow. You reached your hands out, trying to stop him from doing so but Yoongi took one of your hands and pinned them down between his and your thighs.
Jungkook never had to bow for you and it felt wrong seeing him bent down to apologize.
“I-I’m sorry noona, I—” He trails off.
In his speechlessness in a room full of people who—while understanding where he comes from—stood behind you, he clams up and then in a flash, he’s gone, bolting from the living room and skipping up the stairs. The sound of his heavy footfalls echoing like the clock ticking down to his birthday.
The argument has been dissolved, yet it left a bitter taste on your tongue, it made you feel queasy having everyone back you up without reprimanding you as well. It was true, what Jungkook said. 
Weren't you practically leading them on by not choosing anyone? No matter how unintentional it must be, if he thinks that way then maybe everyone else in the group does, just silently.
You turned to the clock again. A minute closer to the next day.
Frustration made you want to pull your hair out but the long, lithe fingers that have entangled with yours in the middle of it all, forbade you from doing so. As if he could hear the internal debate between logic and emotions, Yoongi gave you a comforting squeeze.
But it didn't feel right, you shouldn't be sitting on your ass while Jungkook blamed himself for expressing his own opinion, sure it was a bit aggressive but you understood his frustration.
“Jungkook!” You called out, rising to your feet to follow him when Yoongi tightened his hold on your wrist and shook his head.
“He needs time to process, leave him be.”
Yet despite this, you shrugged his hold off and followed the youngest’s heavy footfalls upstairs and presumably into his room. You caught onto him in the hallway, with the door to his room opened and half of his body already inside.
“Jungkook, let us talk.”
“I-I don't want to see you right now, noona please.”
The desperation to correct the wrongs gives you a short burst of energy and you catch his wrist.
“Jungkook please, I—”
You heard the joyful chime of the clock downstairs before you heard the sweet jingles of bells.
Then you felt it.
Electric jolts shoot up from your connected hands, waking every cell and your mind awake and you almost keel over from the wave of relieving warmth washing over your body. There’s now a low hum accompanying the bells chiming in the background, the soft harmony between them sending shivers down your spine. 
You've thought of first meetings like those scenes in Hollywood movies where a kaleidoscope of colors explodes behind your eyelids, like fireworks celebrating the precious moment where the protagonists finally meet and fireworks shoot up to the sky. They talked of a brief moment of reprieve from reality, the world slowing down and feeling the most calmed you've ever been with your soulmate in hand.
Like your soul finally recognizing its pair and suddenly, everyone became a blur in the background.
Yet when you stared back at Jungkook's mirrored astonishment, your stomach bottomed out.
Because no way in hell, after all this time, you're soulmates.
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you can't be this oblivious
bradley bradshaw x fem!reader
warnings: none except like one swear word lol.
word count: 1026
summary: oblivious!bradley x affectionate!reader!! reader is super affectionate to everyone but it is different with bradley. She’s sweet to everyone but she isn’t sitting at a table for 30 mins and letting just anyone rant about their day, unless they are rooster.
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Y/N Y/L/N, aka Magnet was just that. A Magnet. 
“And then they had me doing pushups because I made a snarky comment according to them.”
Bradley Bradshaw better known as Rooster was someone you would consider a best friend. Though Phoenix would argue he’d be more than that if he wasn’t so oblivious. 
“I mean what did you expect Roo? I would’ve had you doing the same thing.” she giggled into her glass. 
They had been at the Hard Deck for around two hours now, coming right after they got off. It felt like a ritual at this point. Work, Hard Deck, go home and then repeat. There were a million other things they could all do and yet they always came here. Maybe it was the atmosphere that cheered them up after a long day. Or the beer.
What she hadn’t expected was sitting at a table for the last 30 minutes with Rooster ranting about the trouble he’d gotten in earlier, she didn’t mind that though. She could listen to him talk forever. There were very few times that Rooster felt comfortable enough to share things so anytime he did, she took it seriously. 
“You wouldn’t even think to punish me Mag, we both know that.” Rooster replied with a smirk playing on his lips. 
She often thought of what it would be like to kiss him. Would his lips be soft and plushy or more rough like he pretended to be. She liked to believe it would be the first option. She’d never get to really know though as it seemed he never reciprocated the feelings she was putting out. 
“You don’t know what I would do, Rooster. I could make you do 20 pushups right now.” she said
“And I would do them.” he said, a twinkle in his eye or maybe it was the lighting. 
She gasped quietly hoping he didn’t hear. Flirty Rooster only came out after a couple of drinks. She had heard the phrase that drunk words are sober thoughts. Never really believing it though, he never had so much to drink he couldn’t remember saying something so eye raising to his supposed best friend. 
“The worst thing about all this extra work is I feel like I have no time to eat something good. It’s always some fries from here and a couple beers” he continued, brushing past his previous statement. 
Coming back to her senses she spoke quickly, “We could go out together. I mean all I do is drink a couple of beers here.”
She felt him tense up. Preparing for the worst she thought of a way to recover.
“You are truly my best friend. I mean nobody else would’ve offered to do something like that.” Rooster spoke up before she could backtrack. 
Her heart cracked slightly. Best Friend. Who knew two words could hurt so much. Glancing to her right she could see Hangman and Phoenix cringing at the sight. Warmth flooded her body as she began to stand up. 
“Hey where are you going?” he questioned following her up. 
“Yeah um, my head is starting to hurt so I think I’m just going to head home. I’ll see you tomorrow Bradley.” she said as she turned to walk away.
Bradley? She only called him by his first name when she was upset or poking fun at him. 
“Well at least let me take you home? I mean I brought you here.” he rushed out.
“No. It’s fine I’ll call an uber.” she pushed past a few people and walked out the door. 
Shoulders slumping Rooster glanced out the window at the woman. Phone in hand she was true to her word in calling an uber. He felt a pang in his heart watching her. Had he done something wrong? 
A hand clapped against his shoulder. He could smell the cologne and know who it was before even turning his head. 
“Well that was a shit show. I mean come on, Rooster, you can’t be this oblivious.” Hangman said with a cocky smile. 
Shrugging his hand off Rooster turned his head; the muscles in his jaw contracting, “What do you mean, Hangman? Oblivious to what?”
Hangman laughed at him, “You’re meaning to tell me that you haven’t realized that Magnet has been flirting with you ever since she met you? I mean she practically asked you on a date a few minutes ago.” 
Was that a ringing in his ears? Y/N flirting with him? Bradley felt like his head was going to combust where he stood. 
“And there's the look of realization. You really must’ve been oblivious.” Hangman added. 
“I think you’ve gotten this all mixed up. I mean Y/N is close and affectionate with everyone. She leans her head on your shoulder, gossips with Phoenix, and is constantly fixing Bob's glasses. And with me she just leans up against me, compliments me and listens to me rant and she-” Rooster took a pause. “Oh.”
“Yeah, oh. I mean Rooster, Y/N is an affectionate person for sure. But she has never once listened to one of my rants and she’s the only one who'll listen to yours.” Hangman said, an almost serious look on his face. 
“I just watched my future wife walk out that door after asking me on a date.” Bradley said.
“Well hold on nobody said she was-” Hangman started before Rooster talked over him.
“No Hangman, trust me I know. That is going to be my wife. As long as I haven’t ruined everything.” Rooster said, confidence in his voice. 
“Well then I guess you should go get your wife to be.” Hangman said, a small smile on his lips. 
“Yeah I’ve got to go.” Rooster took off out of the bar and to his car. 
“I cannot believe it took him that long to realize that.” Phoenix said, walking up besides Hangman. 
“He’s a little oblivious but we got there. Hope he has a gorgeous ring to propose with. Claims that’s his wife to be” Hangman replied. 
“I don’t doubt that.” Phoenix remarked quietly, watching Rooster peel out of the parking lot.
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let me know if anyone wants a part 2!
part 2:
!!!please don't repost my work anywhere, translate, or bind my works anywhere without permission!!!
98 notes · View notes
jakedustry · 2 days
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𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 - 𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈
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popular!riki x fem!reader
in which after many of your protests, your friends manage to convince you to go to your school prom, reminding you you don't need a date to have fun, and you even believe them for a second – until you are left alone at your table, with no one to talk to. Fortunately, your close friend shows up right in time to show you prom can be funny after all.
wc 2.8k
warnings none (me thinks) except for kissing
↪ izzy adds... I wrote this a year ago on my wattpad account but thought it would be nice to bring some riki fluff on my tumblr too :)) This is only vaguely proofread!
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“I don’t want to go,” you whined, grabbing a hair tie from your table before turning to face the group of girls sprawled on your bed again. “I am serious. First of all, I don’t have anyone to go with, and second of all, I don’t have a dress either,” you explained your reasons when you notice the looks on your friends’ faces. 
“But you have to go! Prom is so much fun!” One of the girls exclaimed, ready to argue with you. “It might have been fun if someone asked me to be their prom date,” you mumble, sighing. “Or if you guys were still in school. I don’t want to go alone!” You complained. 
Honestly, you didn’t care much about not being asked out for prom. What bothered you more was that none of your friends would be there with you. You were the youngest in your friend group, and with all the girls being a grade above you, it meant there was no one you could talk to. 
“People are blind. I don’t get why no one asked you out.” 
“It’s whatever. I am not going anyway,” you repeated, sitting on your bed between the two eldest. “Everything got far worse after you left. The girls in my class keep laughing at anyone who breathes. I don’t need them making fun of me because I don’t have a date.” 
“You don’t need a date! You can go alone and dance with whoever you want! I swear prom is super fun!” Your friend kept trying to convince you. “And I already finished your dress,” your best friend joined the conversation, making all of you look at her. “What? Really?” Your eyes widened. 
She had decided to study fashion design after finishing high school, and she had been promising you she would make a dress for you since the first semester started, but you knew she was busy, so you never paid much attention to it, thinking she wouldn’t have time for it. 
“Why haven’t you shown us earlier?!” 
Your best friend unlocked her phone, scrolling through her gallery to find a picture. “I thought I told you about it before. And I wanted to bring it tomorrow to see if it needs fixing,” she shrugged. “Here it is,” she turned her phone towards you so you could see first, showing it to the rest of the group afterward. 
It was a long midnight blue v-neck piece with a fitted bodice and a sweeping skirt, and you absolutely loved it. Even though you always preferred pants and shorts over a dress or skirt, you could see how much work she had put into making it for you. Seeing the dress made you feel a sudden wave of excitement. You wanted to wear it as soon as possible. 
“You are so good!” The oldest gasped. “It’s nothing,” your best friend chuckled, awkwardly rubbing the back of her neck. You knew she was proud of her work, too. “It really does look gorgeous, though,” you assured her, still in awe. 
“Well, now you just have to go.” You sighed, “Alright, I’ll go, but you guys have to promise we’ll get an ice cream and sleep over at mine after it.” The girls grinned, agreeing immediately. 
♡⸝⸝ 
You looked into the mirror again, fixing your hair with a smile. Even though you didn’t feel super excited to go out alone, you must admit, you felt pretty tonight. The dress your best friend designed fit you perfectly, and once you put your hair up and let her do your makeup, you found yourself looking forward to the dance more. 
“You look stunning,” your best friend assured you, her smile so genuine she might also make you feel like the prettiest girl in the world. “Should we go?” She asked, offering you her arm. You giggled, wrapping your hand around her arm and leaving your room with her. 
“No boy will be able to resist you tonight.” You couldn’t hide your smile as you heard your best friend, your confidence slowly building up. You nodded, following her to her car. 
Your confidence, however, dropped down again as you ended up alone at your table, staying the only one not dancing. 
You ended up sitting at a table in the far corner with a few of your classmates, looking around the place as soon as you sat down. You must say, they did a great job with the decoration. “I am going to get something to drink. Do you guys want anything?” One of the girls asked, putting her handbag on her chair and looking around the table. One of her friends stood up, too, saying she would go with her when their other friends asked for drinks.
You just watched them, not saying anything. They weren’t your friends. Honestly, you barely knew them, so you didn't want to bother them with getting you a drink. It felt awkward sitting there with them, but there was nothing you could do. It wasn't like it would feel any less uncomfortable at the other tables. 
Half an hour later, the dance floor was already occupied, with almost no space for any more pairs. You saw a few of your classmates here and there dancing or sitting at their tables and talking to their friends, but you didn't dare to walk up to any of them. 
So you ended up sitting alone at your table, watching everyone else enjoy themself while you had nothing to do. You knew you shouldn't expect much when you didn't have a date, but you got your hopes up when you talked to your best friend, and now it made you regret coming here after all. 
You shifted in your place, staring at the almost empty glass of coke you got earlier. Playing with your straw, your thoughts drifted away to your friends again. To your actual friends, not just your classmates. You remembered how your best friend would laugh at the stupidest things whenever she was around you and how the eldest in your friend group would always talk about her boyfriend, to the point it annoyed all of you. 
You sighed, closing your eyes for a quick second so tears wouldn't fall down your cheeks. You just wanted to be with them.
“How come you are here alone?” You opened your eyes upon hearing the familiar voice, quickly blinking to make all the possible tears disappear before they could even show up. “I thought I was too late,” he mumbled so quietly you almost didn’t hear him. Almost. 
“It’s weird that none of the guys here asked you for a dance yet. They are missing out,” he grinned, sitting on a chair beside you. “How long did it take you to learn those lines, Riki? Do you go around asking every girl?” You teased him but couldn’t hide a smile. 
You watched him, taking a proper look at what he was wearing. All the boys had a specific dress code: formal pants and a button-down. A vest or a suit jacket were optional, so most of them weren’t wearing them. But he was. He had a black vest on his white button-down, and you could swear he looked better than ever before. It was somehow attractive seeing a man wear a vest even though he didn't have to.
You knew he was attractive. You would be a fool to deny it when all the girls in your grade and the grade under you had a crush on him at one point. But still, it felt as if your eyes had opened only now. 
“Now seriously. Why did you reject everyone? I thought you wanted to dance tonight,” he questioned, looking around the place. You shrugged, looking the same way he was, “No one asked me yet. I didn’t get the chance to reject anyone.” 
You had met Nishimura Riki last year for the first time. You were running through the school hallway late in the afternoon, being one of the last students still in school. Lessons ended more than an hour ago and you had lost track of time while studying in the school library. It was a pure fate that the two of you met, really. You weren’t planning on stopping. If anything, you almost sped up to get out of school as soon as possible to catch your bus, but you ended up slowing down instead when you heard your favorite song coming from one of the classrooms. 
You glanced inside, wondering who was stupid enough like you to be still hanging out in school at this hour. That was when you saw him dancing in the middle of an empty classroom to your favorite song. Back then, he obviously had no idea it was your favorite song, and you had no idea it was one of his, too. 
He noticed you standing at the door and froze, a sudden wave of embarrassment brushing over him. He turned the music off immediately, watching you apologize for interrupting. You felt as embarrassed as he did but didn’t move right away. You lingered in the silence, keeping eye contact with him until you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks. You apologized again, running off before he could say anything. It was a chaotic first meeting, but you still managed to get stuck in his head. 
You didn’t have a proper conversation with him that day or any of the days prior, but you started greeting each other in the hallways since then, exchanging small smiles or glances from across the room. 
It went like so for weeks, with neither of you walking up to each other to actually say something. You didn’t know his name, and you assumed he didn’t know yours either, but you still found yourself looking forward to seeing him between your classes. 
And not so long after, when your best friend wanted to introduce you to her boyfriend’s friends, you finally got to hear his name. You stuck together with Riki most of the afternoon, only exchanging a few words with his other friends. It was Riki who your eyes landed on, unable to look away as you found yourself getting lost in your conversation. 
You considered him your close friend since. 
Riki looked back at you, confused if you were telling the truth or joking. “No one asked you for a dance?” You shook your head at his question, looking down at your glass again. “I swear everyone is blind,” he shook his head in disappointment. “You look amazing today,” he assured you. “You look amazing all the time, actually,” he mumbled, making your cheeks turn pink. “Thank you,” you muttered shyly. 
He hesitated for a second, encouraging himself before he stood up. “Do you want to dance?” Your name rolled on his tongue so easily, as if he had said it a million times before. You smiled, looking up at him again. His hand was reached towards you, and he averted eye contact. For the first time in the year you knew him, you saw him without his usual confidence, and it might have been making you more nervous than him. Everything about him tonight made you nervous. The way he stood, talked, and dressed. It all made you weak in the knees. 
You carefully took his hand, already worried your hand was sweating. He looked you in the eyes again, holding your hand properly as he took you from the table. The current song was ending, but he still had the next one and hopefully a few songs after that, too. 
Riki awkwardly waited for the song to end before looking at you again as he heard the last line. “We are going to kill the next song,” he proclaimed, making you giggle. 
“How about something slower for our pairs this time?” His eyes widened, terrified, as he looked at the DJ. Everyone cheered for him, but Riki couldn’t. Not when he wasn’t sure what you would think about dancing with him to a slow song. 
He glanced your way again, his eyes scanning your face and trying to see if you were still up for a dance. You looked him in the eyes, trying to figure out the same thing. Eventually, you decided to take the first step and put your hands on his shoulders. He stepped forward, making it easier for you to reach him before he placed his hands on your waist, a sheepish smile on his lips as he looked at you with nothing but love. 
It wasn’t a secret to many – actually, he was pretty sure everyone except for you knew – that he had a crush on you for as long as he could remember. Since he saw you in the hallway, with your hair tucked behind your ear, he couldn’t stop thinking about you, and it has been getting worse and worse ever since. And seeing you so close now, trying to keep eye contact with him even though your cheeks were getting hotter the more you looked at him, only made him love you more. 
“We can’t really kill this dance,” you mumbled with a smile, trying to ease the atmosphere so it wouldn't get awkward. He chuckled, nodding before he leaned down to you, stopping once his lips reached your ear. “But we can be the best-looking pair.” His words sent shivers down your spine, making your cheeks turn redder than ever before. You stepped closer again, laying your head on his chest so you wouldn't need to look him in the eyes. 
You nodded, slightly squeezing his shoulders. “Thank you,” you mumbled. “For dancing with me tonight.” You looked up for a second, assuring yourself he heard you. You had underestimated his visuals, you realized. Now that you were standing so close to him, your bodies touching, seeing him bite his bottom lip at what you said in the purple lighting above the dance floor has made you go crazy. 
You felt girls looking at you, trying to murder you with their stares, but you didn’t mind. You couldn’t even think about them when you had a handsome boy right in front of you. Especially when you knew his eyes were on you only. 
Your eyes widened in question when you heard your name leave his lips, questioning what he needed. He hesitated for a moment before moving his right hand from your waist to your face, lifting your chin with his thumb and index finger. You were too pretty for him to be able to think straight, no matter how much he tried. “Please don’t kick me for this,” he whispered, leaning down again, this time connecting his lips with yours. 
You moved your hand to the back of his neck when you felt his lips on your, pulling him closer to yourself. You were both aware of people staring your way, whispering about god knows what, but you couldn’t care less. This was your moment. 
Riki grabbed your hand again, exchanging one look with you before he took you from the dance floor, rushing to the main hall outside where you all left your jackets before. You didn’t question anything and followed him, keeping your eyes on your intertwined hands. “My things are still in there,” you reminded him, having no idea where he was heading. He didn't answer anything, though, not looking back for even a split second. 
As he stopped in the middle of the hallway, finally looking at you again, you realized he was looking for a quieter place without so many people around. Honestly, you didn’t care where you were. He could take you anywhere, and you would go with him. Because all you could think about at the moment were his lips. 
“I’d kiss you again if your lips weren’t so high up,” you mumbled, creating a grin on his face. He pulled you closer again, leaning down so you could do as you wished. “I thought we were just friends,” he whispered against your lips, making you shiver once again. The look in his eyes, combined with his deep voice would be the death of you soon. You were sure of it. 
“You kissed me first,” you reminded him, breathing on his lips so he could get a taste of his own medicine. “So maybe we aren’t really just friends, pretty boy.” 
“Definitely,” he agreed, his hands cupping your cheeks as he kissed you again, this time with more passion, making sure you could feel every last bit of his love on your lips.
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lulublack90 · 3 days
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Prompt 23 - Two
@rosekillermicrofic September 23, word count 746
Previous part First Jegulus part
“I swear this is taking longer to do than it did to steal them!” Barty grunted as he carried another stack of books up the narrow staircase. He dumped them at Sirius’s feet, who had somehow wormed his way out of helping bring them up by saying he was the only one who knew how Regulus liked them ordered on the shelves. Barty thought it was a load of bullshit, but Sirius had been amazing today, so he let him off. 
Finally, the van was empty and Barty flung himself on Regulus’s new sofa. He let his head loll back and his eyes closed, he was exhausted. 
“What’s in the boxes?” Remus asked, pointing at the collection of stacked cardboard boxes. 
“The rest of Regulus’s clothes and knick-knacks,” Barty supplied, yawning widely. “I’ll deal with them in a minute. I know just how Regulus likes to fold his shirts,” He cracked an eye to see if Sirius reacted. 
“Don’t lie, Barty, you just want to get your hands on Reggie’s underwear,” Sirius snorted at him. Barty couldn’t help it. He laughed too.
“Aww, he already knows me so well,” Barty snickered. “Hey, Evan?” He craned his neck so he could see his boyfriend. “What do you think about the other Black Brother for our threesome instead of Reggie? I bet Sirius has stamina. Look at those thighs! Hey, Remus, how big’s his—” Barty ducked as a hardback copy of War and Peace flew at his head. 
“Go manhandle my brother's briefs and leave me alone,” Sirius ordered. 
“Yes, darling. Keep talking to me like that, and I’ll be yours forever,” He cackled as he fled the room before any more classic literature could be used as a weapon. 
Regulus’s bedroom was neat and tidy when Barty entered and, after a few minutes, it was total chaos. He’d dragged all the drawers out and the wardrobe doors were wide open. Clothes were everywhere. He’d dragged the boxes in and the contents of two of them were thrown across the bed in a heap. He really needed Evan’s help. “Evan?” He asked, popping his head around the corner where he spotted Evan looking quite cosy on the sofa with Remus, discussing something or other. Evan looked up and rolled his eyes at the pleading look on Barty’s face.
“How bad is it?” He asked. 
“Bad,” Barty replied. 
“Excuse me, Remus, the gremlin was let loose,” Barty would have stuck his tongue out at the comment, but he was too worried that Evan wouldn’t help him if he did. 
Evan walked into the room and surveyed the mess Barty had made. “How? How have you made so much mess in less than five minutes?!” Evan sighed in exasperation. “Go and sit in that corner and don’t move,” Barty dutifully did as he was told and watched Evan work his magic. 
Soon, Evan put everything back to rights and all the rescued clothes were put away as well. “Right, you, go take those boxes down to the recycling, and then you can see if anyone wants a drink,” Evan ordered. Barty didn’t backchat and did as instructed. By the time he got back up to the flat, Sirius had filled the bookcases and neatly stacked the overflow beside them. 
“Does anybody want a drink?” He asked. They all nodded and gave him their orders, thankful that they were easy ones, and went into the kitchen to find the kettle already boiled. 
When he came back through with the tea tray, Sirius was on the phone. 
“Sure, Mum, I’ll ask,” Sirius moved the phone to his chest and asked. “Do you guys want to come over to the Potter’s for dinner tomorrow night? Effie says she wants to thank you both and would love it if you’d join us,” Barty looked at Evan, unsure. 
“Pandora’s going,” Remus added, and that decided it for them. If Panda was going, they would. 
“Please,” They said in unison, and Sirius conveyed the message to Effie. Evan sat down and dragged Barty with him. Barty snuggled into Evan’s side and felt his eyelids drooping again. Evan would wake him up when the tea was ready to drink, so he didn’t fight it and was overjoyed when Evan’s fingers found his hair as he continued the conversation he was having with Remus. Barty fell into a doze, excited to see Regulus’s face when he got home and saw all of his belongings squashed into his flat.  
Next part
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just-a-floofy-catt · 2 days
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I feel like i haven't posted in forever again TwT
I found an old GlitterGolf idea drabble that I wrote after reading a really good fic about them buried in the depths of my phone so uh...
*throws it at you*
Omg a glittergolf fic with judgemental, sassy, hw2-esque Sun
So like, not only is there the trope of Monty disliking him and thinking hes annoying asf and a weird freak,  but now instead of being oblivious and nice, Sun returns the same energy, thinking that Monty is a selfish brute who shouldnt be trusted around children. Like, he'll make very off  comments about him and just spend the whole time scowling and trying to shoo him out XD
So, like, imagine there's a thing going on at the daycare.
Where, as almost like, a way to bring more business in and shit, theyve started having a daily thing where one of the glams will visit the kids there and do an activity with them for an hour or so. Usually its Freddy, sometimes its Chica, and rarely its Roxy. This is the first opportunity that Sun really gets to meet them, and it actually goes really well. Sun absolutely adores Freddy, has a new bestie in chica, and shockingly has some good banter and an unlikely friendship with Roxy.
However, theres a day where Freddy has to go for energency maintenence, and the others are all booked for parties.
Leaving only Monty free to do it.
Now, Monty has never done one of the shifts before, because he doesnt do well with the younger kids. Both because hes scary to alot of them, and because he also just doesnt really know how to deal with them. Maybe deep down theres even a deep rooted fear of hurting them 👀👀👀
(There definitely is)
But so he is absolutely NOT excited to go.
Despite the way that the rest of the Glams praise up Sunny and how great he is, Monty does not care and still views him as the same annoying freak he always did, despite not having met him yet.
So, he shows up and Sun opens the door all cheery being like "Oh hello Freddy! Youre a bit late i was worried you werent gonna show up and-"
And then he clocks that its monty.
"Oh."
He immediately glares down at him in pure, utter distain, voice filled with disappointment and mirth.
Monty stares back up at him with a huff, tense. If he had fur, his hackles would be absolutely raised.
Then Sun would be all like "ugh. Ew. why are you here", and Monty very bluntly explains that hes been forced to go and that Freddy is in maintenence.
Then Sun tries to shut the door on him XD
"Im sure the kids can go one day without a glamrock then! Ill let them know freddy is sick, thank you for telling me. Lovely to meet you, Montgomery!"
Monty stops the door by grabbing it stongly with his hand, scoring clawmarks into it.
"What do you think you're doing?!"
Sun scoffs at the damage
"Im the one taking over, dipshit. Im here to do my fuckin job"
The realization that hes truely stuck with Monty dawns on him, and he opens the door again, taking a deep breath.
"No swearing in the daycare..."
He spits it through gritted teeth and relents, turning his back to him and stalking away.
Then the cheery front goes back up and he completely changes XD
He introduces Monty to the kids as best as he can, but none of them really seem too interested, making him both snicker but also be incredibly frustrated that his dramatic intro didnt work.
(Also, to explain more character stuff, Sun is mostly in typical fanon form, and then uses all that hw2 sass mostly as a defence mechanism. Hes definitely got some mischief to him that he also uses it for, like banter with Roxanne, but for the most part hes a sweetheart. He gets easily frustrated with management and people that he doesnt like, but has alot of patience with activities like crafts and also with the kids. He is still like, painfully innocent and has his loopy childlike vibe, but just covers it up when he feels threatened. The best way i can describe it is that he acts like a playground bully when he doesnt like you. XD Still childish, but now just a more snarky, cold and mean version. Hes a bit cautious of some new things, although very curious. So he normally is a bit cautious around new people, but very welcoming and nice.
This is different for Monty, because of what he hears from the kids XD
Alot of them when mentioning him in passing, see Monty as scary and violent, so now thats how Sun views him. Alot of the kids see him as a threat, so now Sun does too. Hes protective of the kids, so of course hes jumped to judge someone he doesnt know based on whether the kids like him or not XD
Dont get me wrong, in some situations hed definitely try to show the kids the thing theyre scared of isnt so bad, but in the case of Monty, he has confirmation  that he can be angry and violent from the other glams and staff, so of course he still just sees him as bad lmao.
Like, the way he acts towards Monty is mostly because of mama bear instinct stuff. He sees him as a threat to the kids  so he doesnt like him.)
Enemies to lovers my beloved ✨️
But over time, Monty starts having to do it more and more, as inconveniences keep piling up, and Sun starts to kind of let his guard down, and the scathing defensiveness turns into teasing. He sees Monty actually trying to connect with some of the kids, and also after spending his whole life w Moon, understands that Monty is frustrated that theyre scared of him. He starts to see the good in Monty, and also pity him a bit.
Monty on the other hand, starts to admire how much Sunny cares about the kids, and steadily gets used to his upbeat and overly cheery demeanor. He no longer sees him as annoying, but instead, endearing.
And then theres eventually endgame GlitterGolf
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capricornsicle · 2 years
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How are you doing post movie?
It is very much Teen Wolf. I enjoyed it.
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irhabiya · 7 months
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today sucked the life out of me ya Allah
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Is Shaun Nora's child? If so, does she view X6 as family due to his closeness to Father, or just as a friend?
shaun is nora's biological child, yep, and post-institute when asked she says she has two sons (referring to shaun and synth!shaun--but a minor plot point in my fic is that she doesn't tell anyone about synth!shaun being a synth. if pressed for details, she just says her eldest passed away recently and that typically shuts down any further questions).
oh, edited to add bc i don't think i was clear: she treats synth!shaun as a son too. she takes to him straightaway. he's still a child who views her as his mother, and she still wants to be a parent. they have a good relationship.
she does view x6 as family, but in a found-family sort of way that doesn't have anything to do with them sharing dna. she thinks shaun calling himself "father" is extremely--i think paternalistic is the right word, and she emphatically does not approve. she feels family is a lot more than genetic material, and so is parenthood, which relates back to her family situation mentioned here.
she and x6 grow close as they work together and kind of outside the bounds of father's knowledge. x6 is a smart guy and figures out nora's still working for the railroad, and for his own reasons keeps it to himself, and nora's aware that if she actually reported how snarky and independent x6 is, he'd be sent to reconditioning. so their relationship is tense for a while, but eventually grows genuine and very close.
i think outside of nick, x6 is the companion she's closest with by the end of things.
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joelsgoldrush · 2 months
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“GUILTY PLEASURE” | 8.6k
logan howlett x fem!reader
“I want this like a cigarette / Can we drag it out and never quit?” Guilty Pleasure by Chappell Roan
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SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.
WARNINGS/TAGS: smut - mdni 18+ fluff, angst, drinking, dirty talk, slow-burnish, grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader, reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes, age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, finger sucking, soft dom!logan, wade being the funniest asshole, logan calls reader "kiddo/kid"
AUTHOR'S NOTE: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.
** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.
*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)
**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)
special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever
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The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.
Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.
Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you. 
Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.” 
Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.
The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend. 
You:
cutie patootie alert
there’s this really handsome guy at the bar
i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before
i think i’m in love with him
my night just got a 100% better
Allison:
age
what does he look like
is he bald?
You:
he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here
brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong 
i didn’t stare at him for too long
otherwise that would’ve been very weird
and no he’s not fucking bald
that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair 
Allison:
so you’re dating retired now
get it grandma!
You:
oh fuck you allison 
Allison: 
it’s okay girl we all have our flaws
just make sure it’s nobody’s father
wait it’s not mine right?
You:
nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it
Allison:
bitch 
Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.
“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.
The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”
Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”
Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss. 
Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”
The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.
“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”
Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.” 
“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”
Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.
“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features. 
“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”
(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)
He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.
“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”
“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules. 
“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up. 
You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.
“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”
Yeah… that you knew.
It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.
As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.
“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.
“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”
“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”
For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”
“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.
“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”
His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”
“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”
“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”
“Look, Wolvie. I–”
“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”
“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”
You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.
Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”
The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”
“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”
“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”
“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”
A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”
“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”
“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”
“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”
Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”
“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”
“Me neither.”
“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”
You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”
Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”
But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”
The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.
(But you aren’t.)
His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”
“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”
Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”
“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”
“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”
As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.
What the fuck had just happened?
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“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”
She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”
You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”
After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.
Your savior complex strikes again!
It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail. 
Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”
Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.
“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”
“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”
“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”
“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”
“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”
You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”
“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”
“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.
Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.
“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients. 
“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”
“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?
“You sure?”
“Affirmative.”
“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”
“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”
“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.
“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”
“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”
Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”
Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.
“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”
Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”
“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”
“What? No.”
“Why not? She’s cute.”
Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.
Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”
“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.
After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”
You could die at peace.
“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”
“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”
“Now why would you think that?”
“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”
“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”
“You don’t have to.”
“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.
“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”
“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”
“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.
He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”
Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”
His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”
This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.
“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.
“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”
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You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.
Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.
Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”
You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”
“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment. 
Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”
“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”
“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”
Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”
“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”
“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”
“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”
When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”
“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you. 
Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”
“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”
From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”
“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”
“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”
“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”
“Go fuck yourself, will you?”
“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”
Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?
Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.
“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.
You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”
Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”
You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”
He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?
“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”
He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him. 
“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”
You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”
The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”
“I just... I want to understand you better.”
“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”
He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”
With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.
“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”
“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”
The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. 
Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”
Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”
But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”
Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”
You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”
He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”
“Should I give you some space?”
That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”
“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”
“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”
“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”
“God, do you ever shut up?”
You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.
“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 
“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”
“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”
“Am I that easily replaced?”
“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”
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Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.
Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.
He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?
It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.
Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?
“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.
“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”
The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic. 
“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”
“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”
You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.
“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”
“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”
“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”
“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”
“Careful.”
“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”
You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”
His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”
“Get your hands off her.”
Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on. 
“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”
“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”
“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”
Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”
“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?” 
The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”
“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.
“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.
“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.
“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”
“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”
The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”
Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”
“Don’t. Now is not the time.”
“I was protecting you.”
“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.
Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”
You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I don’t have a phone.”
“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”
“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”
“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”
His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”
“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”
You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days. 
“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.
“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”
In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.
“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”
“Right here? On the counter?”
“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”
“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”
“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.
“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”
Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”
“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”
“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”
“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”
His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”
“L-logan–”
“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”
You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”
With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 
“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”
He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble. 
“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”
“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”
Who had given him a damn script for this?
The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.
Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”
And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.
“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”
You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”
“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”
You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”
Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”
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part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”
dividers by: @cafekitsune thank you!!! :)
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b0mblover · 5 months
Text
It’ll be Okay in the End
By: J
cw; selfharm, generally negative thoughts, blood (etc everything that comes with sh)
lopt essentially has a silent breakdown and mason comforts him or smth idk im not good at summeries,
[Note; this was wrote out of my own desperation for comfort, not romanizing sh, i do not encourage or believe anyone should do this to themselves, seek help.]
i uh, actually had a easier time writing this than most things, probably because ive been essentially replaying this whole scene in my head for literal years! i for once wasnt upset when i wrote this, i was very tired tho! uh i have alot more to say but hawaii part ii lopt is taking over my brain again, so im gonna go do that! have fun with my depressed 100% projected loptson ig!
lopt was in ‘his’ so called room, scribbling away at some paper,
mason was rather concerned, hearing frustrated noises constantly, what sounded like pencils breaking,
they had been “partners” officially for 3 months now, mason had always cared about lopt to an extent, partner or not, but this was… odd.
sure lopt had his own life, hobbies, but he didnt care to keep /that/ much from mason, especially whenever he asked,
but, this was different.
lopt had came home from wherever the fuck he was- hell if mason knew details- annoyed, he stormed off to some room, when mason tried to ask what was wrong he only blew him off saying that “its none of your fucking business, you wouldnt get it anyways”
lopt was scribbling away in his notepad, despite being a god and literally being immortal, he still couldnt force creativity to come to him,
it was his fifth time trying,
most drawings resulted in poorly scribbled out lines,
he had went out to try and get inspiration for “some project” though he didnt really /have/ anything to work on, starting a new drawing always seemed to be a block for him,
he sat down his broken (6b) pencil, (rather violently but he didnt want to acknowledge that) and got up, he knew somewhere in him, that he needed a break, he walked out of his room to get water, but his mind wouldnt leave him alone,
constant thoughts about how awful his art was spewed around
“youre not “talented”, youre worthless”
“itd be better to quit now”
“just rip up the damn papers, theyre ugly anyways”
“imagine- you could just go and alleviate all this pain, just with that knife-“
he tried to push down his thoughts,
grabbing a cup from the cabinet and filling it with water,
the knives in the butcher block seemed so… tempting,
most of him /knew/ that he shouldnt- that it was wrong, that mason would be disappointed- disgusted, if he found out about his thoughts,
but, he couldnt help it,
all memories of the nights he got up from their bed to take part in something that would disgust his partner made him sick.
questions runned through his head as he sipped on his water, leaning onto the counter
“would he be sad?”
“would he care?”
“would he call me names?”
“tell me how pathetic i am?”
“leave me?”
“would he hate me?”
“tell me how ugly my body is”
“tell me how he hates the scars”
“tell me just how much he despises me”
the voices grew louder wither every question,
saying that he wanted mason to hate him,
that he did hate him,
in the very back of lopts mind, in the tiniest corner, he knew it all wasnt true, that he was being dramatic over nothing,
but even then, the memories of all the times he loved someone- all the times he didnt question if they hated him, what they all said to him,
he felt like doubting himself was the only way to have them not leave,
to not abandon him,
he took a deep breath before sighing, realizing his cup was empty, he decided that he had enough of a “break” and that he needed to start “working” again,
mason was sitting on the couch, some random tv show playing for background noise, when lopt wasnt “there” it was almost too quiet, in a way, mason had grown to love how loud and chaotic the house was with lopt- even if thery were the only two people in it.
he seen lopt walk into the kitchen for around 8~ minutes before he trudged his way into his room once more,
he didnt know excatly as to what lopt was doing,
granted whatever it was had to have been important, he didnt usually spend 3+ hours in a room alone silently, it started to make him worry, was lopt sick? just why did he seem so upset when he came home? is he okay? did he hurt himself?
lopt sat down at his desk once more, staring at the scribbled page, a sphere, he couldnt figure out how to shade it properly on the background,
he sighed turning his attention to the top left drawer,
he stood up walking over to his dresser, pulling out another drawer, he took out a roll of bandages, and some tissues, 
he knew that he shouldnt, that it was essentially pointless, that hed feel better soon enough,
but that fear crept back up,
“what about last time you didnt? remember? it got only worse because you didnt”
he rubbed the sides of his nose bridge, the voices were annoying, they knew that he was gonna, even without the encouragement.
he sat back down at his desk, sitting the tissues to his right and the badages to his left before pulling out the left hand drawer,
he rummaged through it, various miscellaneous items, before coming across a box,
a red box, seemingly quiet old, with yellow letters reading “do it” on the front,
he took one out, ‘unwrapping’ the razor blade,
straight edge,
he stared at it, contemplating just what hes doing with his life,
“i cant draw, i cant write, i cant make people happy, i cant make music, i can only recite the tales others have told, im worthless, im doless, i will never amount to anything or anyone in my life, god or not, human or not, this is deserved, if i cannot create, then i at lease deserve to bleed”
a mantra he told himself, attempting to poorly justify his actions,
mason listened at the door, hearing nothing, no pencil, no walking, almost no breathing, he didnt know everything about lopt, sure, but he knew that he didnt look well off, and what boyfriend would he be to his partner if he wasnt concerned?
they had an unspoken rule to always at least knock before walking into the others space, granted they had seen every part of each other, it was just a courtesy they had, 
though, something felt off,
mason felt as if he shouldnt knock, that lopt was hiding something,
all those sleepless nights where lopt comforted him abundantly, he had felt him get up, a few times he had caught lopt in the basement, he didnt know just what he was doing, he always hid something,
he didnt want to break any boundaries sure, thatd be rude and disrespectful, but, he had a weird feeling in his gut that it was for lopts own saftey,
“please forgive me for this” he muttered to himself,
sharply inhaling before opening the door,
simply greeted by lopts back.
lopt heard the door open, he had three lines going diagonally down his right arm, bleeding, he fumbled the razor, dropping it onto the floor, it had gotten rather dark by now, so it probably wouldnt be seen, he attempted to get the tissues, he had always been a great liar,
“ill just say i accidentally cut myself, if he asks what i was doing with a weapon, ill deflect and say i was being stupid”
it seems like he fumbled the tissues for a bit too long.
“hey”
mason said over his shoulder,
he moved his left hand to cover the cuts,
“o-oh, hey, whats wrong?”
“hm, well, i mean nothing? i guess, what are you doing?”
“i- you guess? is something the matter?”
mason had noticed he was oddly covering his forearm,
“you ignored my question.”
“huh?”
“i asked what youre doing.”
masons tone sounded alot more pissed off, granted he wasnt, just concered more than anything,
“o-oh i um, ok dont laugh but uh- i was trying to draw”
“and why are you covering your arm? are you hurt?”
“i- huh? wh- no, no! i uh, may have also been playing with a blade and accidentally scraped myself, nothing much”
“let me see”
“what?”
“let me see your injury”
lopt was taken aback, all of his previous partners never asked to see his wounds, scars sure but never his wounds, even if they werent self inflicted, he was shocked, he hadnt planned for this.
“i- i assure you dear, it isnt anything to worry about-“
“let me see it. are you hiding something?”
in that moment lopt felt small, like a child almost, weak, helpless, he didnt know how he could get out of this without mason either finding out or being suspicious of him.
“i- here”
lopt moved his left arm to mason, there were a few small cuts on it, though rather old looking,
lopt moved his right arm off the table, into the shadows to not call attention to it.
“uh huh, now the other?”
lopt seen his eternal life flash before his very eyes.
his mind went on autopilot and raised his right arm, he usually would fight but, he knew itd be pointless, mason would just worry more, thus making him keep a closer eye on lopt, he didnt want to feel selfish, not like that,
“oh my, i- oh my god,”
mason was shocked, he had suspected that lopt had hurt himself in the past, granted the scars,
but, he didnt think he still did it, sure the weird behavior, but it never really dawned on him until that moment.
.
mason had brought (more like dragged) lopt to the bathroom, running the slits under cool water, putting pressure to hopefully get the bleeding under control, he opened the cabinet under the sink and pulled out another roll of bandages,
he stood behind lopt washing the blood off, still slightly in shock,
“why?”
“huh?”
“why do you do this?”
masom questioned, fully aware of the long list lopt was about to give out,
“i- well, i dunno..”
lopts voice trailed off before starting again,
“i mean, i dont even know why i do this, it just feels good? like i can do something right? it makes me feel like im not worthless”
mason hummed for a second before choosing his words
“do you feel normally that youre worthless?”
“i guess so, i dont know why, i have the best boyfriend, my life is great, i just dont know..”
“mmhm, what were you trying to draw?”
“i dont know. does it matter?”
lopt shot back
“well, you seemed frustrated at it, so im sure it’s important to you yeah? so then it’s important to me”
mason brought his hands around lopts wrist, rubbing it slightly attempting to calm him down
“i- i dont know, i just, i feel frustrated, so i tried to draw, but drawing makes me feel more frustrated, so i did this- an- and n-now-“
lopt began to stutter, tears swelling up in his eyes, mason had only seen him cry on a few occasions,
“shh- shh its okay, i know what youre saying, breath, okay?”
lopt inhaled deeply, feeling masons left hand move to wipe the tears away,
he didnt even know why he was crying,
mason bandaged lopts arm slightly tight, 
“shh, now, you wanna talk about this? or wait a little bit longer to calm down?”
“c-calm down”
“alright alright, shh youre okay, see?”
mason lead lopt into his bedroom, taking lopts hand under the covers as he had done for him every sleepless night,
lopt could feel his eyelids starting to droop, the warmth of his boyfriend comforting him, the love of his boyfriend comforting him,
he shoved his head into masons chest, finding it to be the most comfortable spot out of the entire bed,
mason ruffled his hair, slowly stroking his hand on his neck,
“y’know, you may be a god,
and you may be immortal, but,
ill be with you for as long as you need, in this life and after”
lopt didnt respond, just slightly nodded his head before burrying it deeper into masons chest, 
maybe tonight wasnt so bad after all,
spending time with mason- no, his boyfriend, was never bad.
lopt faded in and out of sleep, trying to fight the melatonin being produced, just to feel the sweet touch of his boyfriends skin, before he completely felt himself drift away, he heard him speak,
“I love you, i love you so much, never forget that, in this life and the next, ill always love you, lopt.”
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am i the only one who doesn't see purpose in the cycle of work for more work to do more work so that you can earn more work? why should i fucking try if my only reward is getting more work and maybe a "good job keep working". i am. fucking tired.
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arminsumi · 1 year
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THE HORNIEST
↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader
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Summary : Horny!Gojo needs you so bad, he's insatiable. A menace.
Warnings : minors do not read/interact : smut/explicit content, it's very horny lol, not proofread, c*mshots and creampies, unprotected sex, multiple rounds, implied drunk sex
Note : lmk if you want more horny gojo lol 👍 reqs open!! anyways lol the title cracks me up. he ain't the strongest he's the horniest :(
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Horny!Gojo introduces himself to you in the flirtiest way possible, cooing a sweet and drunk "Who invited the goddess?" into your ear. He's sat on the couch with you, one night at a stupid frat party. Starstruck by you. And your reciprocation made his chest feel fluttery for the first time in years. It also made his dick stand up in his pants.
Horny!Gojo leans into you for the whole night, whispering flirty things and dirty jokes into your ear like his mind is a factory pumping them out. You match his playful energy so well, he says "I think we're made for each other."
Horny!Gojo has his sharp eyes wandering to your thighs, then your shoulders, then your lips as you speak — and he licks his lips to wet them.
Horny!Gojo showers you in compliment after compliment, relishing in your reactions and getting greedier; he needs to get you alone. "Wanna go someplace quieter?" he has to shout over the music to ask you.
Horny!Gojo assures you with cocky confidence, "Yeah, I could make you cum. Aw, don't give me that eyeroll, it's turning me on. I know for a fucking fact I could make you cum. I could make those eyes roll back. I could make your legs shake."
Horny!Gojo squeezes your hand tightly when he leads you upstairs, and giggles with you as the two of you escape into a quiet, empty bedroom. His heart is panging so hard in his chest. His body feels electric. He's so horny it's the only thing he can focus on.
Horny!Gojo whimpers when you crash your lips into his. He starts making out wildly with you like he's a sex-deprived loser. Because he is. A sex-deprived, touch-starved college boy.
Horny!Gojo hits those deep, hard strokes with no breaks just to destroy you. He never lets up. Never stops to have a breather or lets you catch your own breath. "Working up a sweat b—abyyy? Too much dick stuffing your little cunt? Yeah? Is it too much? Too big? Too deep? Fuck, you're gonna squeeze my dick off, haha, calm down. It's just a little dirty talk."
Horny!Gojo murmurs into your ear, "All I wanna do is make you finish over and over again." desperation and conviction in his voice. He really just wanted to fuck you into bliss, have you dumb on his fat cock, have you squirming and whimpering and going feral for him.
Horny!Gojo pins you down like a beast but also pounds into you like he's the bitch in heat. "Oh my god oh my god yes yes yes fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckkkk that pussy's so fuckin' gooooodddd" he's a mess, just swearing and moaning like a broken record.
Horny!Gojo almost sobs your name into your mouth when he cums, draining every drop of cum that he's worked up for you in the past hour.
Horny!Gojo turns his creampies into whipped cream with his thrusts, smacking his hips so hard into you that you feel his balls slap against your ass. They're so heavy and full, makes you think that if you weren't on birth control you'd definitely get knocked up with just one of his fat nuts.
Horny!Gojo goes round after round, becoming a melting sweaty mess of a man and feeling his muscles tire out. He pins you to the bed with his whole weight, and gives you his all just to show off a little.
Horny!Gojo has such a strained but enthusiastic voice after fucking you into next year with his dick. "Wow... that pussy's so fucking creamy." he grins toothily. A sweat drop beads off his cheek. His bangs are stuck messily to his forehead, some brushed to the side.
Horny!Gojo is insatiable, he calls you long after the party, over and over, shows up at your door and relishes in how his horniness rubs off on you. He's always a giggly mess in bed with you.
Horny!Gojo needs you so bad some days that he comes to you straight after his workout at the gym, no shower just sweaty gym boy abs, and fucks you as a way to "push his limits" for like three hours.
Horny!Gojo needs to cum everywhere he can. It's like he has a cumshot checklist. Thighs? Yes. Tummy? Yes. Ass? Yes. Chest? Yes. Face? Yes. Pussylips? Yes. Hands? Yes. In your panties? Yes.
Horny!Gojo is so fucking cute when he kisses you after sex, nuzzling your neck like a cat and telling you how good you treat him with that five star pussy.
Horny!Gojo jerks himself alone when you can't come over :( always to you, of course. Sexts like a menace. He's a bit too good at it.
Horny!Gojo gets so pussy drunk sometimes that he begs you to become his wife. His dick feels so raw and sensitive but he keeps squeezing it into that tight hole of yours.
Horny!Gojo is obsessed with you, mind body and soul. Just the sight of you and sound of you makes his dick stand up. And then he's whisking you off your feet and frantically throwing you onto the bed, and you're giggling at your horny boyfriend— oh... when did that happen? Hm. Well now he's your boyfriend.
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© arminsumi
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i2sunric · 1 month
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𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 (l.hs)
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PAIRING: heeseung x reader (f)
SUMMARY: due to a storm, his parents are stuck in a motel for the night while you are stuck at his house. with wi-fi not working, heeseung can’t think of anything better than recreating the scenes of your smutty books.
WARNINGS: established relationship, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), fingering, standing sex (?), missionary, pussy eating, masturbation, dirty talking, blowjob, oral (m and f receiving), rough sex, chocking, i lied about the doggy style, pet names (angel, baby), lmk if more, NOT PROOFREAD.
PUBLISHED: 13th August 2024
WC: 3.7k
TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey (oneshot) @trizdoniki @love4hee @strayy-kidz @baribaaari @shirizula @astratlantis @jaeyungxrl @heestarry @heeseungismymanz @mitmit01 @rayofsunshineeee @heesexual74 @deezbin @jakeswifez @nikiswifiee @hqqj @diorfmu @isa942572 @yjwluvs @norihoyeon @starggukies @shiningnono @sunpov @iamliacamila @strawberrhypen @gnvi-eve @wildflowermooon @kaykay11sworld @erenswifesposts @star-hoon @aubaee @lvnglysunoo @heebear @enhypenlovre BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED.
a/n: honestly the intro sucks and so does the outro but i swear the smut is GOOD. literally 3k words of filthy porn ngl. enjoy lol. please LIKE & REBLOG to spread and let me knows your thoughts 💗
What was supposed to be a cozy Thursday night ended up in you being forced to stay at Heeseung’s house for the night.
Forced? Not really, you enjoyed the excuse of spending more time with your boyfriend. Because of a flooding caused by the storm outside, you weren’t able to go back home.
But neither were his parents, who were supposed to have a nice date and ended up being blocked by the horrible weather.
The sound of the raindrops tapping against the window filled the room as Heeseung turned off the shower.
You were laying on his bed with your back to the wall as you peacefully read your book, thankful that your sixth sense made you bring it.
Heeseung entered the room with only a towel wrapped around his waist while he used another to dry his damp hair.
“Reading still?” He asked, nudging the book with toe. “Ew.” You stated, pushing his foot away “And yes.”
Heeseung just chuckled and moved to get his clothes from the drawer “Heard from your parents?”
He hummed “I called them before showering, they said they’ll stay at a motel,” He put his boxers on “But before they could say more, the line cut off.”
You threw a glance at the window “This storm is going to destroy a lot of things.”
Heeseung struggled to put on shorts and then rounded the bed, the mattress lowering where his weight was.
“I bet they’re having some wild sex right now.” You joked, flipping another page of your book.
Heeseung pinched your side “Ew? I don’t really want to think about my parents going at it.” He laughed, laying down beside you.
“Careful, you might have a brother soon.” You joked again, earning another gentle pinch.
A couple of minutes passed by and Heeseung groaned “Wi-fi doesn’t work.” He threw his phone at the end of the bed. “I can’t play games.”
“Poor you.” You cooed, caressing the hand he had placed on your hip, his chest pressed against your back.
“Can’t you put your book down and give me attention?” You could hear the pout in his voice “No boy, I’m at an important point.”
“Evil.” Heeseung murmured as he settled into a more comfortable position, strangely not going anywhere to do something else.
You felt his hand on your side, relaxed as well as his breath even. ‘He must’ve fallen asleep’, You thought, as you flipped another page of your book, unable to stop your eyes from reading the scene unfolding before you.
If Heeseung was to casually open his eyes and read even one line of the chapter, he would certainly make fun of you.
Who even reads smut in their boyfriend’s bed?
You felt his hand flex on your stomach but you didn't really mind, he would always move uncontrollably when asleep— sometimes, even kicking you.
As your mind proceeded the words written down on paper, your body reacted to it, almost unconsciously.
You could feel your core pulse in need, your body temperature raising and at the same time goosebumps appeared on your skin.
It always happened, you couldn’t help the way your imagination wandered with the characters of the book, the tension and the way they cared for each other. It was all too tempting, you could feel your stomach fill with butterflies.
But your boyfriend was sleeping and you didn’t want to disturb him, knowing he already had troubles falling asleep — the reason why he always stayed up late to play games —, so you kept quiet.
You felt Heeseung shift behind you, the hand on your stomach circling your waist until he was able to pull you against his chest, his breath hot against your ear.
You held your breath as he changed position, not making any sudden movement while he used you like you were a teddy bear.
Gulping down, you waited a few beats before focusing your attention back on the chapter.
It’s not like you and Heeseung had never gone further than third base, but it was always so… vanilla.
You longed for someone to use you for your own pleasure, to talk you through your multiple orgasms, to mark you up and manhandle you like a doll.
But you would never have the courage to confess that to Heeseung.
Yes, you two had been together for almost a year and half though you weren’t ready to open up to your contorted fantasies. Afraid that he may run away, you loved him too much for that.
So, you hid in your imagination, burying your nose in books that filled the void inside of you.
Letting out a quiet sigh, you tried to calm the fire igniting your bones, but your hips shifted uncomfortably, the ache between your legs too strong to be ignored.
Suddenly, Heeseung spoke to your ear, voice low and husky “You want to show me too?” You jolted and closed the book, catching your finger in middle, hissing at the pain.
You turned your face around and caught his gaze, something different inside it. Something primal.
“I-I thought you were sleeping.” You said, blinking faintly and Heeseung smirked, “I was reading with you.”
He reached the book from your hand and like a fool, you let him take it. He opened the page where you had left your finger in and cleared his throat “He looked at her with a strange urge, his attention gliding to her face,” He started reading.
“His voice was low when he said ‘Show me, show me how you touch yourself when you’re alone in the middle of the night’.”
The heat that was once in your stomach moved to your cheeks, embarrassment coating your expression.
“It’s just a chapter, I was skipping it.” You tried to reach back for your book but he held it up, sitting “Ah, lying is bad, Y/N.”
Heeseung’s smirk was cocky “You seemed pretty into it.” You scoffed, “Give it back.”
Your boyfriend was clearly enjoying it, the way you blushed and the flustered look on your face. He licked his bottom lip and eyed you up and down.
Only when you lowered your gaze, unable to meet his, did you notice the hard-on he was sporting. Was he enjoying it the same way you were?
“There’s no wi-fi.” He stated, “And my parents aren’t home, don’t you think we should occupy our time?”
This side of him was something you had never seen, perhaps, had he the same hidden likings as yours? Looked like you were about to find out.
“How?” You asked, your voice hoarse, barely yours. Heeseung glanced back at the page and said “Take off your shorts.”
Your breath hitched in your throat, “W-What?” And he just chuckled darkly “Do you think I didn’t notice your body language, mh? Do you think I didn’t see how you were craving… this?” He raised the book.
“Now, take off your shorts or I’ll have to do it myself.” Normally, you would comply, but you were feeling bold, adrenaline shooting in your veins, so you said instead, “Make me.”
His eyes darkened, his brow raised. He placed the book on the bed and crawled towards you as you backed away until your back hit the headboard.
He kept eye contact while his fingers hooked around your shorts, and instead of his usual slow pace, he yanked them off.
You gasped at the sudden force, soon enough your shorts were laying on the floor “Isn’t this what you want?” He questioned.
“You want someone to dominate you, uh? To show you what’s your place?” Your whole body shivered from his words as you mindlessly nodded.
“All this time I’ve been gentle, afraid to make you uncomfortable,” He gripped your panties “But all you wanted was to be fucked, hard, isn’t it?” He ripped them off you, the sound of fabric stretching making you gasp again.
He smirked and threw the messy fabric on the floor, with your shorts “So, I’ll follow what you like.” He pointed at the book resting on the duvet “Play with yourself.”
You widened your eyes. Heeseung’s behaviour was different from his usual one, though you couldn’t say you didn’t like it. Lord, you were drenched just from his words and he could see it, the way your juices coated your pussy, spread in front of him.
You gulped and slowly moved your hand down, reaching your clit which you started circling.
A soft hum escaped your lips at the sweet feeling and you watched him, his gaze so primal and full of lust as he took in the sight of you touching yourself.
Just a few beats passed before he asked “You know what she does now, right?” And you nodded, lifting your hand up to his lips. He hummed and took them inside his mouth, his warm tongue twirling around your digits.
The taste of you, even if it was just brief, was enough to make his head spin, so delicious and intoxicating.
You removed them “Let me watch while you fuck yourself.” He said and was suddenly aware of your position. Of how open you were in front of him, your folds clenching around nothing.
Heeseung raised an impatient brow and you hurried to coat your fingers in your juices, rubbing them against your entrance before thrusting one inside.
You moaned, your fingers brushing against your g-spot right away, given all the times you’d done this.
Heeseung licked his bottom lip, the taste of you still lingering in his mouth, on his tongue. He could feel his shorts grow tighter by the minute, his desire for you overtaking any rational thought.
“One more baby, I know you can take it.” He urged and you complied, adding a second digit to your ministration.
Heeseung let out a groan, his eyes locked on you as you brought pleasure to yourself. He quickly took the book back in his hands and flicked the page, a wicked smile on his lips.
“Yeah, bet you’ll like this.” He said as he pushed himself down the bed and took you by the back of your thighs, tilting your body until it was pending at the edge of the bed.
You stopped your movements and pulled your fingers out with a ‘POP’ sound, resting on your elbows to look down at him “Hee?”
“Don’t worry, angel.” He pried your legs open, his breath fanning on your cunt, making you squeeze your eyes “Just need to taste your sweet pussy.”
And then you felt it, the swipe of his tongue across your folds, your mind clouding from the pleasure as soft gasps escaped your lips.
Heeseung ate you like a starved man, alternating sucking on your clit and fucking you with his tongue, his strong grip prevented you from squirming around.
You rocked your hips against his mouth, needing to chase the pleasure building inside your lower belly.
You reached a hand and placed it on his head, your fingers tangling in his locks, “Mh, that’s it, angel.” He murmured, “Fuck my tongue.”
And so you followed his orders, moving with deep and slow thrusts, just enough to send jolts of pleasure through your jody as Heeseung stuck his warm tongue inside of you.
Soon, your movements grew sloppier and faster, your lips parted “I’m— I’m gonna—“ And before you could even finish your sentence, your orgasm hit you, making your back arch off the bed, your legs shaking.
“This was so hot, baby.” Heeseung pressed a few more kitten licks on your clit before raising himself, caressing your thighs with his thumbs.
You looked up at him, your breath still uneven from the great amount of pleasure he had put you in.
He gave you a small smirk before reaching behind you and taking your forgotten book back. He flipped the pages “Spoiler, she gives him a BJ.” He said.
You chuckled, your body now recovered as you sat up “And you don’t want it?” You batted your eyelashes.
Heeseung took a steady breath. “Don’t tempt me.” He quickly searched further one the book, scanning lines and as he found something he liked, he pointed at it, a small laugh escaping his lips.
“As much as I love feeling your mouth around me, I want to feel you whole.” He murmured.
You sat up, crawling towards him to the edge of the bed “Maybe I want to.”
His breath caught in his throat, your vicinity and your words going straight to his cock “The way she does.”
Heeseung went back to the chapter where it all started, scanning the lines until he read “After making her see stars, he quickly unbuttoned his jeans, his gaze dangerous. ‘Your moans were so sweet, darling.’ He murmured, lowering his jeans and boxers, his cock sprung free.” He paused to gulp.
“He took the back of her head and moved her ‘till her neck bent in an awkward position, his red tip brushing against her lips.” He lowered the book.
“Is this how you want it? Rough?” Heeseung questioned and you nodded “Might as well follow the script.” You shrugged.
A low groan built in his throat, you tugged the hem of his shirt “This off?” Your eyes glistened with fake innocence.
Heeseung swiftly worked his shirt off, throwing it on the floor. It’s not like you had never seen him without a shirt on, you were used to him during beach dates or pool parties, but it was always so breathtaking.
Heeseung smirked, noticing the way your hungry stare was studying his chest. In the blink of an eye his shorts joined his shirt, his cock hard and angry, some pre-cum smeared over the tip.
“Be a good girl and open up for me,” He murmured as he climbed on the bed, his hand clutching the headboard to keep himself steady.
You quickly laid down, his hips hovering on your face. You looked up at him, doe-eyes looking ever so pure… And then you took him all in your mouth.
Heeseung threw his head back at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his cock, your head bobbing back and forth.
“Fuck,” He breathed out, his eyes meeting yours “So good, always so good.”
He caressed your cheek, his thumb grazing gently your skin as his hips bucked, meeting your pace.
He then pulled out, making you frown which was soon transformed when his lips met yours.
You could feel his cock twitching between your breasts, one of his hands squeezing it as his lips claimed yours.
The kiss was sloppy and messy, both of your tongues moving together, his spit down your throat.
He was delaying his orgasm, you noted, because he would’ve cum just from a few licks of yours.
And then he pulled his lips away from yours to thrust his throbbing length inside your mouth again “Mh… Yes— Shit. You’re so good, angel. Mouth made just for me.” He praised as he moved.
You hummed, sending waves of pleasure all through his body.
You gripped his thighs, bobbing your head faster, desperate to bring him the pleasure he deserved.
Heeseung understood and gripped the headboard with both of his hands, his hips thrusting inside of your warm and wet mouth. He hit the back of your throat, making you gag “I’m so close.” He breathed out.
At his words, you ignored the burning sensation building in your throat and hollowed your cheeks, with a few more thrusts he was emptying himself with a groan.
When he pulled out, you licked any drop of cum that spilled out your mouth and hummed happily.
Heeseung chuckled, leaning down again to capture your lips in a messy but loving kiss.
You playfully bit his bottom lip and he pulled away, yelping “Brat.”
You smiled at him and sat up, your voice just briefly hoarse “What happens next?”
Heeseung’s gaze darkened but his words were serious “You sure you want to continue?” He sighed softly, “Baby, I don’t want to hurt you.”
You smiled reassuringly and beckoned to the book “Time to change chapter.”
Heeseung let out a quiet groan, his cock visibly twitching “He fucks her against the wall.” He narrated what he had read “Hard, hand around her throat… is that what you want?”
Just the idea of doing it that way had you drenched down there, a shiver ran along your spine “Yes, Hee.” You breathed out, and to emphasise you add “I need it.”
“My nasty girl.” He practically growled as he got up from the bed, taking you with him and slammed you against the wall of his bedroom.
You yelped when your back hit the cold surface, the tapping of the raindrops on the window your background music.
Heeseung claimed your lips again as one of his hands snuck to squeeze your backside, his fingers kneading it.
You could again feel his hard cock pressing against your stomach, its warmth infecting your core.
“I’ve always wanted to fuck you,” He whispered on you throat “To have you milk my cock as I take you so hard you can’t say a coherent word.”
You rocked your hips against his, a clear effect of his words, your arms wrapped around his neck.
As if you weighed nothing, he raised you and you wrapped your legs around his sculpted waist.
Without any warning except for the aligning of his cock, he slammed deep inside of you, making you moan out.
Heeseung wasn’t the biggest cock you’ve seen, but he surely was the longest. You could feel him so deep, he could probably even reach your stomach if he tried hard enough.
You gripped the back of his neck like your life depended on it as he moved without any mercy, pulling all the way out until the tip just to slam back in, knocking the air out of your lungs.
He snuck one hand between your breasts and reached your throat, wrapping it around it. He gripped, not enough to choke you but good enough to make you light-headed.
His cock pounded hard into you, driving your brain into nothing but a puddle of his name, the one you screamed and moaned.
Your nails dug into his shoulders and he grunted, rewarding you with a deeper thrust, one you can almost feel in your centre, where the familiar knot was tightening.
Your eyes rolled back, just moans and whimpers escaping your lips.
Heeseung removed the hand from your throat and gripped your neck instead, letting your lungs that were screaming in protest fill with air up to their capacity.
He moved so your forehead pressed against his, both of you panting in each other’s mouth, your pussy clenching around him.
He groaned, he put one of his hands on the wall to steady himself as his hips kept bucking fast on yours, the sound of skin slapping mixing up with the rain’s.
“Is this what you like, baby?” Heeseung asked, moving his face to gently nip on your neck.
Your whole body felt sensitive from the attention he was giving it, from his small hickeys to the way he kept hitting your sweet spot “Y-yes.” You croaked out “Feels s’good, fuck.”
Heeseung grinned and stilled, twitching inside of you with a groan.
Before you could even comprehend it, he had you with your back on the mattress, never pulling out of you.
Your legs spread open, eager to feel him in you, to let him claim him.
“Fuck,” He grunted out, his pace never once faltering as he gripped your thighs to help himself, surely there would be marks the next day “Feels like heaven inside of you.”
You answered with a muffled whimper, not sure if your brain could even form out a word anymore.
He leaned on you, chest pressed against chest as he hid his face in the crook of his neck, his hot breath hitting your skin.
You rolled your eyes back, the pleasure building inside of you almost unbearable “Hee..” You breathed out, gripping his forearm to warn him where words couldn’t reach.
“I know,” He murmured, “Me too, baby…”
You cried out as you tried to delay your orgasm the same way he could do, but the pleasure was too much and before you could even try to resist more, you saw white.
Your back arched off the bed and squirmed around, your walls clenching tight around Heeseung who, despite your state, never stopped thrusting.
“Shit— Where do you want it?” He asked, because it was in some ways a first timer. First time going rough, first time going raw.
You couldn’t find your voice, your eyes watery from the impact of your orgasm, so you wrapped your legs around his waist, trapping him.
He frowned “Are you— Fuck.” You felt his cum filling you up to the brim, the sensation so sweet a gasp left your lips as he rocked slowly, adrenaline lowering.
After a couple of minutes where neither of you had the energy to move, Heeseung raised himself and offered you a warm smile “How was it?” He questioned as he stood up.
The sight of you, sprawled on his bed with both your seeds running down your thighs was enough to make him pop another boner, which earned him a side eye from you.
“Don’t worry, baby.” Heeseung chuckled, opening one of the drawers to retrieve one of his shirts and helping you in it. He then carefully cleaned you up, dried the sweat running down your forehead and after putting back on his shorts and underwear, he laid beside you.
One of his arms snuck around your shoulder, he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead “You’ll have to go commando, since I ripped your panties.” You giggled, hugging him tighter.
“I really enjoyed… this.” Heeseung smirked, “I bet.” He glanced at the book, now resting on the bedside table “Come to me when you start another book, yeah?”
Heeseung absentmindedly squeezed your breast through the shirt “I’ll make sure to recreate it all… even may steal some of the lines.”
Content that he wasn’t going to judge you for your strange likings, rather supporting them, you let yourself be held as the storm outside slowly died, the breeze hitting your skin as you fell asleep, safe in his arms.
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lis-likes-fics · 26 days
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Casual
Pairing: bff!Eddie Munson x Reader Word Count: 12.3k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, protected sex (birth control), virginity loss, friends with benefits, Eddie talks you through it, constant consent, humor during sex, Eddie calls you "mama" but no mommy kink, fondling, slight hair pulling, oral (f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, a million different positions, slight edging?, L-bombs but not romantically, swearing... A/N: So I wrote this as a best friends with benefits thing and not a best friends to lovers, but the line gets blurry sometimes with besties. I really fucking loved this one because they're like...they literally never stop being besties, they're so fucking dumb, I love them. So yeah, this is platonic in the least platonic way possible, and I love that for them. Thank you so much and enjoy! A/N #2: While I was writing the first author's note, my typing kept popping my ears. *cries in adhd like a little bitch*
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Eddie finds you in his bedroom doorway moments after hearing the front door close. He half expected Wayne to be coming back home early from work, but that didn’t make sense because he only left an hour ago and he probably would have called ahead.
But, no. You stand there with damp hair from a fresh shower and dressed down in some shirt you stole from his drawer and pajama pants. He raises a brow. He hadn’t been expecting you, but he isn’t surprised in the slightest. He doesn’t even bother to move from his spot, leaning back on his bed with an arm behind his head and a book in his hand.
“Hey, there,” he mumbles.
You stare at him for a while, saying absolutely nothing. You don’t seem particularly pleased. He stares back. Neither of you move.
“I’m upset,” you finally say, still staring, still standing.
If Eddie’s remembering correctly, you’re supposed to be out on a date. So hearing that you’re upset isn’t necessarily pleasing to him. Judging by the time, you should have had a very entertaining night. But apparently not.
He’s the first to move as he lets his book fall down to his lap. “Why?”
You think for a moment and then drop your stuff at his door, walking inside as you use your foot to close the door. There’s a long pause between speaking, as you use it to walk around his room and look at all of his stuff. “It’s sort of embarrassing.” You pick up a random pepper shaker on his desk, swirling it around and then turning on your heel to look at him.
He’s got his head tilted to his shoulder with a look on his face that reads “seriously?”. He sits up, lifting a brow. “I’ve seen and learned a lot about you since we became friends, so I doubt there’s anything you could do or say to embarrass yourself in front of me.”
You roll your eyes, licking your lips as you set the pepper shaker down again. “Okay, well…” you trail out, trying to decide how you want to tell him. “You know how I had that date?”
He puts his book away, crossing his legs and leaning back on his elbows. “The drive in?”
“The drive in.”
“What about it?”
“Well…” you sigh. “Okay, so…” You lick your bottom lip, trying to form the words. You’re never shy in front of him, so there must be something wrong. You chew on your lip, thinking to yourself with a heavy sigh. You plop down onto the bed next to him. “God, so, we got there and the movie was fine and whatever–” you roll your eyes, “–and we watched most of it but at some point, we started, like, kissing, and whatever, right?”
Eddie shrugs, laying back to stare at the ceiling as you continue to recount your night. “Yeah.”
“And it got a little…”
He raises a hand to prompt you, “Hot and heavy?”
“Yeah.” You look down at your lap where you fiddle with your fingers. “So we drove away somewhere more…more private?”
He looks at you, sitting back up enough to fully see your face as he smirks lightly. He gives you this devilish look that makes you want to hit him. “Did you...?”
You nod a little. “Yeah.”
Swallowing thickly, you watch his face shift as he takes in your demeanor. His head slumps to one side, his smirk falling off his face. “Oh…” he mumbles. “How do you feel?”
You stare at him. He can see you mulling over your response as you struggle to find the right words. Despite yourself, you feel a knot tying itself in your throat. You force it down and away, pretending it’s not there and hoping it’ll help. And it does…for now, at least.
“I’m upset.”
He cringes a little, lifting an arm to give you a place to lean into him. “That bad?”
You bury your face in his shoulder and pout. “Yeah.” You pull away suddenly. “I mean, I know everyone’s first time sucks ass and whatever, but, like…” You drop your head in your hands, wiping at your face as you find yourself glad for washing your makeup off earlier. “Eddie, I didn’t even…”
He almost seems offended. He doesn’t care about announcing it because you’re alone and also it’s outrageous. “You didn’t cum?”
“No!” you exclaim. “I…faked it.” You’re almost disgusted with yourself for it. It sort of just happened in the moment. He was clumsy in trying to get you there, but it wasn’t working. You just wanted to end it off and move on, so you just…made the sounds and the faces. He seemed pleased enough. “I feel kinda bad. I mean, he was sweet and all, and he, like… He tried, but…”
His question is crude with as little hesitation as humanly possible. Again, he doesn’t care about being awkward or guarded because you’re his best friend, and you’ve talked about worse, and there’s no filter with you. “How big was he?”
“Eddie, what?” Usually you wouldn’t mind his brashness, but you’re still trying to get over the events of a couple hours ago.
“Honest question,” he shrugs. “I just wanna know. Was he like…” he lifts his hand, squinting his eyes and hunching over and pinching his fingers together, “little?”
You shrug. His bluntness is rubbing off on you. You feel a little less awkward and you hunch a little less. “He was fine…just a little too…short? To reach?”
He makes a face, like he’s shocked and disgusted. He looks you up and down almost like it’s your dick. “That’s rough,” he says. “How many times did he cum?”
“Why do you assume he came?” you raise a brow.
He rolls his eyes with a scoff. “Please, guys always cum.”
You roll your own eyes and push yourself off the bed. You’re roaming his room again as you mess with all of his stuff. You open his drawer and ruffle through his unfolded clothes, you pick up empty beer cans and turn up your nose at the smell, you strum the strings of his acoustic. You do all of this instead of looking at him when you answer. “Twice.”
“Oh.” You fake disgust when he looks at you, smirking and bobbing his brows at you. “You must’ve been really fuckin’ nice.” He makes this weird growling sound, and the “ew” that comes out of you is guttural. He snorts happily, and then his humor is gone as he deadpans, “Or he’s a lightweight. Did he cum inside?”
You’re sick of him.
You shake your head. “I made him wrap it.”
“Aren’t you on the pill?”
“Yeah.” He hums.
He watches you lean back against his desk, looking at this weird mask he had just sitting among the chaos. You move it around in your hands and force down the heat in your throat at the recounting going on in your head. Swallowing it down is a hard task that ultimately fails as he watches you begin to choke on the unshed tears.
He sighs, his chest warm with a bitter emotion as he watches your waterline threaten to spill over. “Oh, c’mere.” He stands from the bed, opening his arms wide to pull you into a bone crushing hug. It’s warm and it hurts and it feels so nice. He smells like he always does, green apple shampoo stolen from your house and cheap cologne and cigarettes. It’s a nice smell.
“I guess I like…I don’t know, I expected a little more. It was…really disappointing.” A couple of tears manage to get past you, and it pisses you off but you’re already over it. “I wanted…to get rid of it, and now it’s gone but it doesn’t feel like anything’s changed, but it also feels like everything’s changed, but not in a good way.”
He rubs your back, listening to you as you need him to listen. “I’m sorry,” he mutters when you stop. He sets his chin atop your head after a kiss to your forehead. Part of him wants to square up with the dude you went out with, but he sets that urge to the side in order to comfort you. “That fuckin’ sucks, and you deserve so much more.”
After a moment, you pull away from him, wiping at your face with a huff. “It’s stupid.”
“S’not stupid.”
You don’t argue, you just throw yourself onto his bed, laying flat on your back with your arms and legs spread so wide that you take up nearly all the space left. Eddie watches you lay there with your eyes closed and your breath slowed. He thinks you’re really pretty, especially right now with you wearing his shirt. He almost hates himself for thinking to ask–
“Look, it might be…creepy and weird to ask and—Jesus, if I’m being creepy, I want you to fuckin’ punch me s hard as you can—but, shit, maybe I should shut up.”
His rambling is cut off by you, still lounging on his bed. You haven’t moved, your eyes are still closed. You don’t seem fazed at all by his awkwardness. “What are you about to ask me, Ed?”
He sighs, sitting next to you with his foot shoved underneath him. He sets his hand on your thigh. You still don’t move, used to his touchy-communication. “What happened tonight fuckin’ sucks–”
“You say ‘sucks’ a lot.”
“It’s a nice word.”
You peek at him through one opened eyes. “You’re weird.”
“Nevertheless–” You laugh. He watches your belly tense as you do it, rolling over to sit up and witness his fumbling with opened eyes. “As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted…”
You laugh again, and he’s happy he could do that for you, especially after your rough night. You’re happy you could ease his worries, because he was being awkward, and Eddie isn’t usually awkward with you, and you know he likes your stupid jokes.
He takes a breath and starts again. “What happened sucks, and—only if you want to—I would be willing—if you’re comfortable—to…fix it for you.”
You raise a confused brow, less confused and more vaguely unbelieving. “Fix it…for me?” you echo.
He shrugs. “I don’t like when you cry, and I want to make you feel better. I’m not a total expert on sex, but I think I know my way around it pretty well.” He puts his hands together like he’s going to pray and points them toward you. “If you want…I can help.”
You raise a brow and stifle the smirk threatening to grace your lips, ready to tease him in order to push down the flush of heat rushing through you. “You wanna fuck me.”
He raises his hands. “I want to fuck you if you want me to fuck you. To help. But I’d love to fuck you… if you want…me to fuck you.” There’s a pause. “Maybe.”
You look away, scratching your head in thought. “Since when have you wanted to fuck me?”
He smacks a hand down onto your thigh just to do it. “Babe, it’s always been on the table. All you had to do was ask.” Whore.
You roll your eyes for the millionth time. “You’re such a guy.”
He shrugs like he doesn’t care at all. “Like I said, guys always cum.”
You raise a brow at him, shoving his hand off your knee to stand again. You jab an accusatory finger into his chest. “Is that to insinuate that you’ve cum thinking about me?”
“I– Okay, I did not– Listen here, you little shit.”
You laugh out loud, still pointing at him to make fun. “I’m kidding!” He fake laughs, and you return the favor by tilting your head and questioning him further. “But have you?”
To avoid it being awkward, he just shrugs nonchalantly and answers the question. “A couple times.” It works, even though you flush at the answer.
“What? That is so weird!”
“That is not weird.” He hopes you ignore the way his cheeks turn pink, powering through it with more brashness and more jokes. “It is completely normal to think of your best friend when you’re cranking one out.”
You shake your head definitely. “No, it’s not.”
He challenges you. “Have you ever cum thinking about me?”
Without turning your head, you glance away from him. “I don’t think that makes it normal.”
“So you have, is what I’m hearing.” You turn to him quickly, raising a finger as you try to speak over his ad libbing. He thinks he’s really funny, and it’s gonna make you scream.
“Listen–”
“Listening.”
You huff, glancing away and then looking back at him. Well, not really him, but the ends of his hair over his shoulders. “Maybe once or twice…” you shrug, “Maybe even thrice, but that’s not–”
“You little freak!” He points his finger at you, his whole face wide with amusement.
“Hey– Be nice to me. Or I’ll cry. You don’t like it when I cry.” You pout to give him a preview. You’re sure you could summon more tears if you really need to…
“You’re evil,” he shakes his head, looking up at you with a huge grin.
You bob your brows. “Yes, I am.”
He surprises you. In the next moment, his arms are wrapped around your midsection, and your feet lift off the ground. He takes you in his hold and turns you until you’re being slammed into the bed. You laugh as you bounce, squirming around to push him off of you as he pins you under his weight. Both of you are giddy with the amusement, laughing at each other and playing along with the other’s fun.
When you open your eyes and the laughter dies down, you realize that he’s actually pinning you to the bed. It sobers you up almost immediately, and you realize that he’s really close. He could kiss you right now if he really wanted to. You notice the exact moment he realizes it, too.
You gulp and take a breath for courage. Your voice is small—awkward—but it’s okay because he’s your best friend. “You can…” you mumble. “You can help, if you want to help.”
His eyes glance at your lips, and then he raises both his brows as he looks back at you. “You want me to?”
You nod, trying not to hold your breath to avoid dulling the charged air between you. “Yes, I want you to.”
He tilts his head and the tips of his hair tickles your cheek. “Is it because I have you pinned?”
“It helps.”
Eddie backs off of you, sitting back on his bed to allow you to sit back up. You do, crossing your legs underneath you. He thinks for a moment, watching you as he does. There’s a long pause where the both of you contemplate something, unsure if the other has the same thing in mind.
“Before we do anything,” he breaks the silence carefully and articulately, and you can see the moment that all his seriosity has set in, “I need explicit permission. And you gotta let me know how you’re feeling. I don’t wanna do anything to make you uncomfortable.”
You listen intently, nodding along as he lays down the rules. “Okay,” you say.
He tilts his head toward you, looking up at you through his bangs. His brown eyes are so pretty. You’ve always thought so. They’re so warm and loving, just like him. It’s the reason you became his friend in the first place: because he’s warm and loving. “S0?” he prompts, snapping you out of your thoughts.
You take in a deep breath and smile, lifting a hand and slowly setting it on his own. “I want you to have sex with me, Eddie.”
He visibly shudders, and you think he’s a sucker. Technically, he is, but whatever. “Jesus,” he mutters, running his free hand through his hair. Then he smacks yours away, and your chuckle turns into a snort. He always knows how to make you comfortable. “Okay.”
You turn your body to face him, clearing your throat. “So… How do we…?”
“Okay, so…” He makes a “shoo” motion with his hands, so you get confused and raise a brow. You slowly and hesitantly lean back onto your elbows, staring at him with all the silent questions you can muster. He rolls his eyes. “No, get up. Sit over there, whore.”
You roll your eyes at him in return, moving to sit at the head of his bed with your legs crossed in front of you. Playfully, he rolls his eyes yet again and shakes his head at you like he’s disappointed. Eddie turns to lounge across the foot of the bed, propping himself up on his elbow. “First, I want you to walk me through everything he did.”
“Okay,” you mumble, thinking back to what happened in that car. “Well, he kissed me. We made out for a bit, and then he pulled me into his lap.” You only glance at him as you speak, but he’s so nice about it that you don’t feel so weird talking to him about being poorly fucked. “And he took off my shirt. He was, like, moving my hips and stuff.”
“Okay.” He listens so closely. His full attention is on you and only you, and it feels nice.
“Then he, uh, he played with my nipples. You motion vaguely to your chest.
“Did he use his mouth?” he questions gently.
“Mhm.”
He shakes his head then. He’s still gentle but his tone leaves no room for argument. “You gotta say yes or no, sweetheart, or I’m not touchin’ you.”
That’s fair enough. “Yes.”
“And it felt good?”
“Yes.” It almost sounds like a question, but he understands what you mean.
“Okay,” he gestures toward you. “What else did he do?”
You think for a moment. It’s already becoming a little fuzzy as your mind becomes distracted by the thought of Eddie, your sweet, idiot Eddie, doing these things to you and making it feel good.
This is the same boy you’ve seen fall out of his van because he tripped on the step and totally ate shit hitting the ground. This is the same boy you’ve seen stuffing his face with marshmallows because he was dared to by Mike and Dustin, and he was trying to prove that he could do more than they originally dared for him.
This is also the same boy you’ve seen absolutely shred his guitar with some fingering skills you’ve been envious of. And the same boy who’s seen you cry a million times and wiped away all the tears with plenty of jokes and compliments and threats of violence as were humanly possible. If there’s anyone who can make you feel good, it’s him.
You shake the thoughts away in order to get them straight. “He laid me down on the seat,” you remember, “and took off his pants and stuff.” You don’t really need the “and stuff” but it does make it a little easier…for some reason.
He furrows his brow in question, tilting his head like he’s grossed out all of a sudden. “Okay?”
“And then he…” you stare at his Dio poster across the room, “put it inside.”
He lifts his lip in disgust. He’s done that a lot tonight in response to this guy. “That’s it?” he asks with more distaste than you thought possible.
“What do you mean?” you furrow your own brow this time.
“Baby,” he says effortlessly, like he’s said it a million times before (because he has), “there wasn’t even foreplay.” He sits up, “No wonder you didn’t get off, girls need foreplay. Guys don’t need shit. We just think about tits, and we’re hard.” He shrugs, “I’m thinking about tits right now. Hard as a rock.”
The face you make transcends the rolling of the eyes or the upturn of a lip as you scoff. “Eddie–”
“You gotta be built up,” he continues, brushing past his comment like he never said it to begin with. You consider his words, taking them as the truth because he knows way more about sex than you would. He’s no prodigy, maybe, but you’re barely out of your virginity, so he’s got more advantage than you. “Did you blow him?”
You glance up, a bitter tone in your words as you mutter the first part, “Between positions… yeah.”
You don’t think “disgust” fits anymore. He’s just annoyed and entirely displeased. “You blew him, and he didn’t blow you?”
“I thought the term was ‘eat me out’.”
He shrugs a shoulder absently. “Symmetry.”
You airquote your response. “Okay, ‘symmetry’.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Yes,” you reply finally, still tasting traces of your toothpaste in your mouth. “I blew him, but he didn’t blow me.”
Eddie makes a guttural sound to try to properly express the amount of offense he takes to this. “You know what, fuck this guy.” He leans forward, placing both his hands on your knees and holding them there as he stares at you with those big, brown eyes of his. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I got you now.”
It’s easy to take humor from that to avoid dealing with the arousal it sends through you. “You’re real confident.”
He’s not pulling back on anything, he has no reason to. He somehow becomes more intense as he effortlessly response, “Because I’m gonna fuckin’ eat you out like my life depends on it.”
“I–” There’s no way you can respond to that. “Oh. Uhm.” Your mind is immediately a jumbled mess of fantasies and incoherent words and more fantasies. There’s a heat between your thighs and an anticipation in your belly that makes it difficult to think.
“Relax,” he catches your sudden daze. He pats your thigh like it’s just something that he does and not a preface to him pulling them apart and having a feast. “You’ll be fine.”
“Okay.”
He gets up, stretching his arms high over his head to pop his back. You can’t help the way your eyes fall to the slip of his belly, spying a tattoo hidden away there underneath his shirt. “I’m gonna go take a shower.” He eyes you. “You don’t need any infections.”
You turn your lip up because you think he’s disgusting. “That’s gross, Eddie.”
He points at you. “But considerate.”
You get up specifically to push him away from you. “Go shower, you dirty whore.”
He winks at you. “Yes, mama.” You don’t know how to respond to that. “Get comfy, I’ll be out in a bit.”
You swallow thickly, trying not to dissolve into some pathetic puddle because he called you “Mama”. You’ve never been into that before, and all of a sudden, you can’t get the sound of it out of your head. He’s already long gone, leaving you alone in his room as you sit on his bed to wait for him.
You’re a total goner, you’re sure.
~
You’re going through more of his stuff by the time he comes out of the shower. You glance over your shoulder at him after the door closes, and you’re almost surprised by what you find.
It’s not like you haven’t seen Eddie shirtless before. The sight isn’t unusual to you, but given the context and the way his sweatpants hang low on his waist, giving the perfect view of his gentle V-line, his soft tummy. It’s a mouthwatering sight, and it’s taking everything to look away.
His hair is still dripping. The dampness is giving his curls a gentle shine in the lamp light in the room. He rubs his towel haphazardly through his hair as he speaks. “I know I’m gonna take them off anyway, but–”
He stops short when he finally looks up to see you. You’re rummaging through his drawers like the little thief that you are, your hand stopped somewhere in the second drawer in favor of watching him. But that’s not what makes him pause. It’s the fact that you’re in one of his shirts, one that goes down past the curve of your ass and stops short before even reaching your mid-thigh. Your legs are bare—you’ve discarded all your other clothes somewhere in the room and left yourself in some underwear and his shirt.
He always knew you were sexy. As your closest friend, it’s his duty to know how sexy you are, but this is another level and he doesn’t understand why.
Instead of pointing out the fact that his sweatpants are growing a sudden bulge, he gestures to the shirt. “Are you gonna steal that?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” He scratches the back of his neck, tossing his towel onto a chair stuffed in the corner of his room. It’s stacked high with clean laundry that he never got around to. He pays no mind to it when the towel and a couple of clothes fall to the floor immediately after.
Eddie takes a breath before he looks back at you. “C’mere,” he mumbles, raising a finger to make a come hither motion. You listen to him, walking over to stand in his space. Your hands rest at his sides because you always rest your hands at his sides, and, naturally, he holds you back.
“Remember,” he begins in a quiet voice (or as quiet as Eddie can be), “you gotta use your words. I gotta know if I’m hurting you, or I’m doing too much or too little.” His thumbs stroke your elbows. “You know your body better than anyone, but I’m gonna do my best to know it even more than that.”
You chuckle playfully. “Okay.”
“And you definitely, definitely have to let me know when I’m doing something right.”
“So you’ll keep doing it?” you guess.
He shakes his head and says in a flat voice, “No, to stroke my ego.”
You roll your eyes, and your humor is interrupted by his hand lifting to touch your cheek. You lean into it because his hands are warm. “You still wanna do this?” He’s completely serious, and a little nervous now as he looks at you.
You nod, raising one hand to wrap around the back of his neck. “I trust you, Eddie.”
He nods, mostly to himself. “Good. That’s good.” His tongue darts out to lick his lips. “That’s great,” he raises his brows. Then he sighs, glancing away from your intense gaze. “Let’s hope I don’t fall in love with you or something, or you’ll be getting your back blown out every night and twice on Sundays. Jesus H. Christ.”
You roll your eyes and shake your head at his ridiculousness, almost forgetting that he’s probably completely serious and you are about to fuck as you play into your banter. “You’re so–”
You don’t get to finish your sentence. You’re cut off by Eddie’s lips engulfing your own, warm and soft and really nice against your own. You let out a long breath, pulling him closer by the back of his neck as he takes a step forward into your space.
To be completely honest, you’ve kissed Eddie before. You’ve kissed him on a dare, you kissed him to trick people into thinking you’re dating. Hell—he was your first kiss because you and some friends were screwing around and then you happened to be picked to be locked in a closet for seven minutes because you were at a stupid party playing stupid games.
So the sensation isn’t completely new, but the making out part is. Eddie is a really good kisser.
When he pulls away, you aren’t really expecting it. He seems pleased by your daze as he bobs his brows. “So what?”
Instead of answering him, as you’ve forgotten what you were going to say, you kissed him again. It’s really nice, kissing someone. It’s nice to be this close, to breathe each other’s air, to taste each other’s lips. His tongue grazes your top lip, and you lean into it, because you trust him and it’s nice.
Eddie keeps you pulled close against his body as he starts stepping forward, keeping you from tripping as he does. The back of your knees hits the bed, and you hold on too tightly as you feel yourself falling backwards. You laugh when you fall back onto the bed with his weight on top of you. He laughs with you, “You’re okay, mama.”
He silences you with his mouth again, enjoying the feeling of your lips on his. He likes it just as much as you. Between that and his little pet name, your mind is swimming and your heart is racing. When he pulls away, it’s only to press his lips to the skin of your neck, suckling and nipping gently at the flesh as he does. You close your eyes, your fingers happily tangled in his hair as you keep him close.
“Mama,” you mutter under your breath, seeing just how much you like it as he nips at your neck. “I like that.”
You can feel him smiling against your skin. “Yeah? Want me to keep using it?”
You nod, “Yeah.” A hum echoes in your chest as he wraps his hands around your sides, lifting you a bit just to put you farther up the bed. He crawls on top of you, one of his knees settled between your legs as his hand caresses your side.
Your breath becomes thin when his hand smooths underneath his shirt, feeling the softness of your skin with a quiet breath. His palm stops at your belly as he slips the very tips of his fingers to rest underneath your breasts, feeling just how warm you are.
“Good?” he mutters, taking your earlobe so gently between his teeth and letting it go.
You nod, your eyes heavy like they’re glued down with sap. “Mhmm,” you breathe.
“Yes or no, mama?” he reminds you, gently kissing your lips.
“Yes.”
He smiles, rewarding you with another kiss as he whispers against your lips. “Good girl.”
You don’t have time to think about that right now. It’s too nice, too fuzzy. It sends a warm flush straight to the pit of your stomach and makes your breath hitch. Eddie knows and adds it to the list of things you like for tonight.
The slightest whimper slips from your lips when you feel his warm fingers reach up to brush your breast, gently groping you as he plays with your peaking nipples. He hikes your shirt all the way up until your bare chest is revealed to him, and he takes them in with an appreciative breath before leaning down to take one between his lips.
It’s much different than the guy before him. Eddie’s deliberate, licking and sucking and so, so gently nipping the bud. It sends a strange sensation through you, lighting every nerve ending and making it impossible to think straight as you keep your fingers tangled in his hair. You keep him close. It feels too good to do anything else.
You speak between breaths, your heavy eyelids and sticky lips working against your attempts to speak. “You’ve seriously cum to the thought of me?” you wonder, whimpering when his other hand comes up to pinch your other nipple between the pads of his fingers.
“Yeah,” he mutters, sucking harshly and making you gasp.
“Why?” you ask, making an attempt at playfulness between the haze of his ministrations. “Am I that irresistible?”
With only seriousness, Eddie looks up at you, letting his fingers take over in teasing you. “Yeah.”
Your grin falters, almost not expecting his answer—or at least the amount of honesty in it. “Wait, really? You’re not just buttering me up?”
He makes a face, a confused one that flatters you more than anything else. “No? You’re fucking sexy as shit.” He tilts his head, “You think I’m lying when I tell you that?” Eddie’s hand smooths down your side, gripping your hip as he goes.
You shake your head, bringing your knee up and sighing gently when his hand slides over the round of your ass. “You don’t have any weird feelings for me, do you?”
He pinches you, and you squirm away from him giddily. “Mama, I’m in love with you, but not like that.” He gently makes your side. “Now stop talking to me. It’s hard to kiss you if I’m talking.”
You chuckle. “Yes, si-”
Your words are interrupted by a tiny moan when his fingers graze the mound of your pussy through the thin fabric of your panties. Your back arches just slightly, the ticklish feeling making quick work of scouring your body.
“Does that feel good?” he wonders quietly.
You nod and bite down hard on your lip. The anticipation of it is eating you up. “Yes.”
“Good,” he lilts, continuing to brush his middle finger up and down the length of your panties until he’s pulling them to the side just enough to see you. Eddie licks his lips, leaning in to kiss your belly. You’re weak against him, trying not to cant your hips up into him and deter his work.
His finger caresses your folds through the bit of slick that had begun to gather there. “You feel the difference?” he asks between kisses.
“Yes.” Your voice is a squeak, and he seems quite proud of himself for making it that way.
“I’m gonna take these off, okay?” he says. “Then I’m going to put my mouth on you. You’ll let me know if I’m doing too much, right?”
You nod. “Yes, Eddie.”
He smiles, “Thanks, mama.” He feels the way you react to that, the slightest flutter of your folds. He sits up just to allow him the access to slip your underwear down your legs. The little, flimsy material comes right off. He drops it to the ground and comes to kneel in front of the bed. You hold your breath when his hands close around your waist, pulling you down to the edge to bring you that much closer to his face.
Instinctively, you close your thighs. It’s hard to will them to open and stay that way with the way his warm breath fans over your skin, his hands touch your body, his eyes stay glued to your own, constantly asking for consent.
You think he’s going to say something smart, smirk at you and chuckle at your shyness. But he does. Instead, he just gives you a calming look and asks, “You still okay, mama? You wanna stop?”
You let out a gentle breath, shaking your head. “No, I’m okay.” You chew on your bottom lip. “Just not used to this.”
“That’s okay,” he reassures. His kindness is honestly making your arousal worse. You feel like you’re going to start shaking if he pulls away from you. “Can I open your legs?”
You nod. “Please.”
He nods back, kissing your knee and smoothing his hands down your thighs, one on each side. The hand on the inside of your thigh dips so slowly between yours, seating deep between them until he’s slowly pulling them apart. The sound your thighs make when he opens them is lewd, it’s the quiet schlick sound that comes from the arousal that seeped out of you. You start to feel embarrassed, but then he sighs like he’s so relieved to see it.
“Tell me why you’re so fucking pretty,” he shakes his head. Your thighs are itching to close as you watch him lean in, pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh, just to kiss you. You bite your lip, nervous and so ready.
But then he stands. “Give me a second,” he says, walking away from you as his hands slide off your thighs. You sit up higher on your elbows, watching in confusion and slight annoyance as he leaves you on the bed.
“Eddie,” you call while he walks to his dresser.
“Hang on,” he smiles. “Jesus.” He does that thing where his tongue sticks out over his bottom lip as he sorts through the junk on his desk. “Not leavin’. Just lookin’ for something,” he mutters.
You fall back on the bed, willing your heart to calm. He makes a sound of success, turning back on his heel to get back to you. You look at him and watch as he cards his fingers through his hair. He pulls it back into a ponytail, wrapping a hair tie around it to make a messy bun.
You flush at the sight because not even a moment later, he’s on his knees again right between yours. “You can’t be serious,” you say.
“Oh, I’m dead serious,” he replies, looking at you excitedly. His hands land on your thighs again, keeping them spread apart as he pulls you again to the very edge of the bed. “I’d say hold on tight, but there’s nothing to hold onto so… Enjoy!”
He dives between your thighs, and the heat of his mouth latches onto your pussy. Your mouth slips open and a deep moan rumbles out of you. Your thighs close around his head as you feel his tongue licking at you, lapping at your folds as he delves between them.
“Eddie,” you call, one of your hands reaching down to touch the top of his head, trying to find some purchase at his hair. His tongue swirls around your clit, and you’re a total goner when his lips close around it and suck. You mewl at the unfamiliar feeling, enjoying every bit of it with an immense amount of pleasure.
You’d expected him to go slow, hesitant little licks against your folds as he worries about overwhelming you. But this is not that. It’s hot and heavy with deep strokes of his tongue and the tiniest nips of his teeth. There’s no way to keep yourself calm. Your hips are tilting up into his mouth, meaning he has to hold you down with his arms wrapped around your thighs.
Eddie seems to be thoroughly enjoying himself. He moans into you, heavy breaths fanning over your skin as he eats you out “like his life depends on it”. Your open-mouthed moans encourage him, especially when you say his name in this high-pitched gasp and slam your eyes shut. Your ankles hook behind him, pulling him in closer.
Eddie’s making the most obscene sounds—sounds worse than what you’re making. He slurps and laps at you like a dog drinking water. You’d call him a whore again if you could think of humor at the moment, but the only thing you want to tell him is to keep going and never stop.
When he pulls his mouth off of you, you whine. He smiles, knowing he’s doing a good job as he shushes you gently. “It’s okay, I’m not stopping,” he says. In the next moment, you feel his hand cup your pussy. “I’m gonna put my fingers inside of you. Is that okay?”
You nod. “Please, Eddie.”
His fingers tease your entrance, though you don’t think he means to. He looks at you as he prods a finger at the seam of your cunt, slowly pushing it in until they part around him. A short “ah” sound is what he hears as he presses his finger inside of you, moving slowly until he’s got it all the way in. “Good?” he checks, the slightest thrusts moving in and out of you as he does.
Your nods are becoming insistent. “Yes, Eddie.”
“You want more, mama?”
“Yes, please.” He loves how polite you are. You’re usually so mean—though, he loves that about you, too. It just means you love him.
He sets a steady rhythm, one that’s still slow as he focuses in on your face, the way it shifts and squints at every little push of his thick finger. It feels really nice, the way he takes his time with you, making sure you feel everything he gives you.
“M’gonna add another. You ready?”
“Yeah.” He rewards you with a second finger, pushing it inside along the first and stretching you out for him some more. He thrusts them in and out, a slow and steady motion slowly building as he massages those inner parts of you. He curls them, and they press against a spongy point inside of you that has you rolling your eyes. “That feels good, Eddie. Don’t stop.”
He smiles at your initiative, giving you what you want with as much enthusiasm as you give in wanting it. He leans in, his tongue darting out to lick at your pussy. You’re wetting his fingers so nicely, making it so easy to slip them in and out of you.
His lips wrap around your clit, and he sucks on it while you whine, while his fingers curl inside of you with every intent of coaxing an orgasm out of you. Little ramblings fall from your tongue as you grind against his. He's greedy in the way he licks around his fingers, over your clit, tasting your arousal as it seeps out of you.
A knot is tightening in your belly. Your hips reach for him with each little nuance of his skilled fingers as you seek out the release he's promising you.
His name comes out as a moan on your tongue. If either of you hadn't been so preoccupied, he would have made fun of you for it. Instead, you're spread out on his bed with his fingers inside of you, a moment away from cumming on his mouth.
Your hips try to lift up into him as you get closer and closer. He holds you down with one arm, his lips and tongue and prodding fingers working in tandem to taste you.
Your ankles hook behind his head as your back arches off the bed. “Eddie,” you whisper. He feels the way your pussy clenches around his fingers, his tongue becoming more insistent in the way it flicks and laps at your clit.
He makes these sounds of encouragement, humming and mhm-ing into you as he goes. Your release is like a burst in your belly, it starts there and swarms into your legs, your chest, the base of your being. Eddie’s tongue keeps licking and lapping at you as your back arches off the bed and your legs tighten around his head. You moan his name as white noise erupts in your ears, the distant murmuring of his words muffled as you try to cope with the pleasure that has begun to set every nerve ending on a wild fritz.
Eddie seems more enthused than anything else by your orgasm. Both his arms wrap around your thighs and hold you down. He actually stands, bending at the way to get closer as he longs to taste all the slick and arousal that leaks out of you. As he sucks on your clit and hums at the way that you taste, you grip his hair and pull him in closer.
But there’s a point where you think you might die if he touches you any more. There’s a gasp in your chest that rips its way out as you push him away from your fluttering pussy as kindly as possible. He leans in again, just for a moment, before he registers your body pulling away from him, notices the way your thighs unclench and your fingers loosen from his hair and your moans and gasps of his name turn into weak whimpers and grunts.
“Fuck,” you huff as you lay back on his bed. You turn onto your belly, crawling up his bed and collapsing into his pillows that spell like him. He watches, licking his lips and wiping his face with a smile.
“I was right,” you mumble, feeling your body coming down like you're floating back to the ground.
“About what?” You feel the bed dip next to you where Eddie sits down. Then you feel him lay back, his head laid out on your thighs.
“You're a whore.”
He rolls his eyes, smacking your leg with the back of his hand. “You liked it.”
“Doesn't mean you're not a whore,” you say. “Just means you're a good one.”
He sits up, moving over you so he's caging you in. His hair has come mostly undone by now, and it's more of a mess due to your insistence on how wonderful he is. His guitar pick hangs down in your face. Your eyes cross and uncross trying to watch it dangle.
“Well, if I'm a whore,” he bends down, his soft lips pressing into your neck as your lashes flutter, “then I'm gonna charge you. It's three dollars a minute.”
You chuckle. “Well, guess what?” He hums. “I'm poor, so no.”
He breathes in through his teeth, shaking his head. “Then I guess you'll have to work it off.”
You try not to be too timid as you press your fingertips to his chest, guiding him back so he's sitting up. You move onto your knees, pulling your arms around his shoulders and relishing his hands on your waist.
“That shouldn't be too hard,” you mutter. You are timid when you lean into him, testing the air between you to make sure it's okay that you kiss him.
When you still haven't made any contact, he nudges your nose with his. “C’mon,” he goads, his lips sticky when he speaks with all the familiar affection between you.
Your lip quirks a bit at his humor. You kiss him, biting his top lip just to confuse him. He laughs and you consider your goal achieved. You run a hand down the center of his bare chest, pausing at the base of his belly to tease the light happy trail disappearing into his sweatpants.
You slip your hand just underneath the waistband of his pants, tickling his skin as your fingers brush the base of his length hiding poorly behind the fabric. He flinches slightly from your touch, chuckling lightly as his hand comes to cup your elbow.
“Did I hurt you?” you ask suddenly, slightly startled by his reaction.
He shakes his head. “No, mama. You just surprised me.”
“Okay,” you murmur, your timid fingers slowly attempting to try again. But he just shakes his head.
“This isn’t for me. This is for you,” he says, pulling back enough to see you.
“Yeah, but,” you lick your bottom lip, “I wanna make sure you’re enjoying yourself, too.”
He licks his own lips as if to remind you that they were just wrapped around your sensitive cunt. “Trust me, I am thoroughly enjoying myself, mama.”
Your finger hooks around the waistband of his sweatpants, a slight pout arising from your face. “Can you take ‘em off, at least?”
His hands are already pulling them down his legs as he teases you. “So needy.”
You roll your eyes. “Shut the fuck up.” Your response falls short. As soon as the last word leaves your mouth, his cock springs from its loose confines and reveals itself.
You flush at the sight of him. You’re not a cock-hungry whore or anything—but if you were one, you think his dick would be a perfect subject for it. It’s not like he has this perfect cock that was hand-crafted by the gods or anything. But you think it’s safe to say that calling Eddie a freak is a valid name.
He’s long, freakishly so. He’s got a nice girth to him, you think, but you don’t know if he’s going all the way in—but, of course, you could be exaggerating. You’ve seen two cocks in your entire life, and Eddie’s is one of them and, admittedly, the better of the two. He will definitely reach.
“What the fuck, Eddie?” you look up at him.
“What?” His face falls slightly, his eyes widening just a bit as he wonders if your comment was good or bad. “What’s wrong?”
“How the hell do you fit that thing in your pants?” You shake your head. “Like, what the fuck is wrong with you?”
He just shrugs, but he’s a little relieved that you’re just being his asshole and not just some asshole. “I think you’re being a little dramatic.”
“How is it supposed to fit inside of me? What is that, like a foot long?”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m flattered—really, I am—but it, most definitely, is not a foot.” He looks down at the erection between his legs. The tip is flushed, and it kind of looks like it hurts. “Seven and a half.”
“What the fuck?” you whisper under your breath. You reach down, brushing your fingers over the tip. He gasps through his teeth, and you watch the way it kicks up in response. “Sorry,” you tell him, ignoring the amusement in your chest. It reminds you of a spring, the comedic kind that goes “boing!”.
“S’okay,” he murmurs. He lifts a hand to your cheek, brushing his thumb over the rise of it as he asks gently and genuinely, “You still wanna go?”
You nod, “Yeah. That monster isn’t gonna scare me away.”
He rolls his eyes. “It’s not that big.”
You shrug. “You know, I heard Harrington’s like that big, nine inches.” You make a circle with your hand, moving it up and down like you’re jerking it off. “You think it’s true?” You bob your brows up and down.
He shakes his head, running a hand down his face as he snickers at you. “I doubt it. He could be one or the other, but both seem a little excessive. Have you seen how tight his pants are?”
“Yeah… you might be right.”
“We gonna talk about dicks, or are we gonna fuck?”
You sigh, shrugging like it’s nothing as you look back at him. “I guess, we’ll fuck.”
He smiles, pulling you closer to him. “Well, then, c’mon, mama.”
You actually giggle, surprising him as you bring a leg to wrap around his waist, pulling the other up to follow suit. He kisses you, his hands supporting your thighs as his dick nuzzles between the both of you, kept warm and wet by the way your folds sit against him as it pushes into his lower belly.
Eddie reaches between your bodies, taking his weeping cock in his hand and stroking himself a couple times with little wavers of breath. You watch some precum spill from his tip, sliding down the bottom.
“You want me to use a condom?” he asks.
You swallow thickly, thinking quickly before shaking your head. “Pill.”
He shrugs. “Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t.”
You’re touched by his consideration but you don’t really want to put into words how much you actually want to feel him inside of you. You shake your head again, kissing him quickly to soften the slight awkwardness in your chest. “I don’t want you to use a condom, Eddie.” You almost whisper it, but he understands.
“Okay, mama,” he whispers back. He kisses you, lifting you up from his lap just enough to tuck the head of his cock at your soaked folds. “You ready?” You nod. “Don’t hold your breath. Breathing makes it feel better.” You nod again.
“Ready.”
You try not to hold his breath as he slowly lowers you down onto his lap, splitting you on his cock as you take him inch by inch. At one point, you’re sure he can’t go any further as you feel him seated somewhere deep inside you. And he’s right, it feels really nice.
Your breath is so light and airy when you sigh against his lips, holding him tight as you bury your face in his shoulder. “Fuck,” you huff, hearing his own breaths pass heavily in your ear.
“Fuck,” he echoes. “Jesus, you’re squeezin’ me, mama.”
You don’t know how you feel about the way this makes you feel, the way it makes you act. Your voice gets sort of whiny, breathy, this little thing in his ear that makes his cock twitch slightly inside of you. “Can’t help it,” you sigh. “So fuckin’ deep.”
He nods, his hands steady and firm at your backside and your arms tight around his neck. “I won’t move until you tell me to.”
You just nod, knowing he’s not going to move until you give him an explicit “yes”. It’s a lot to adjust to. He sits really deep inside of you, and he’s pressing against a spot that makes you delirious with just the pressure the head of his cock puts on it. But when you can’t take the suspense anymore and you’re too excited to see how it would feel, you nod again.
“I’m ready.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay,” he says. “I’ll go slow.”
You nod.
Holding your waist, Eddie begins to thrust his hips up into you. He does as he says and moves slowly, guiding your body in his lap so you grind down on him. A whine falls from your lips at the feeling, and you almost immediately seek out that pleasure with the eager roll of your hips into him.
“Not too fast, not too fast,” he hisses, lightly patting your hip.
You nod into his shoulder, feeling his hands roaming. His arm wraps around your waist, his other arm comes up to hook over your shoulder. He keeps thrusting, moving so slowly and filling you so deep. Following his commands, you roll your hips slowly into him, meeting each of his own movements in a building rhythm.
There's an ebb and flow in the way that you move together. Tiny whimpers fall from your lips, and his heavy breaths join them.
Somewhere along the way, it's not enough. Your insistent hips grind into him in search of more. He feels it in the way you breathe, the way you move, the way you hold him just a little tighter.
“Eddie,” you huff. “C’mon, I need more. Please.”
The way you say it is a little more whiny, a little needier than you intended. It feeds his ego, and he can't help but to lose some of his reassuring kindness. He starts making fun of you because he likes making fun of you, and he thinks that you'll probably eat that shit up.
“More?” His grip on you tightens just a bit. His thrusts become a little jerky, searching the same intensity you are. “You need more, mama?”
“Eddie,” you groan.
He pulls your face from his shoulder in order to look at you better. “You sound so whiny, baby. Like a little bitch.”
You roll your eyes because he's Eddie, and he calls you a little bitch anyway. Grinding in his lap, you tangle your fingers in his hair and tug. A strangled grunt comes out, and you smirk devilishly. “So do you.”
“Har, har,” he says.
“If this is all you can do, just tell me. It's okay if you're a one-pump-chump.”
You like vexing him. He likes when you vex him. But he also likes proving you wrong because he may be doing you a favor, but he can't let you go about thinking he can't fuck.
“Fuck you,” he scoffs. Then he's pushing you onto your back and wrapping your legs back around his waist, slipping out in the process. He towers over you like some wolf, bushy hair accommodating as his necklace swoops down to brush your skin.
“If you want me to stop, tell me to stop,” he says. “Yes?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He guides himself back into you, embedding himself within you until you're full. One of his hands grips your hip while the other takes a hold of the headboard. It's this metal thing that squeaks whenever you move. So when he's thrusting into you with a vigor that has grown in the past couple of moments, it's accompanied by the constant whine of the metal. It's sort of funny.
His hips roll into you, waves of pleasure coming with each one. His hand cradles your neck, and you lean into him as he latches onto the sensitive skin of your throat, teeth scraping and tongue licking up the taste of your skin.
One of your legs comes up to wrap around his waist, and you moan as you pull him in deeper. His pace builds into this steady, needy kind of rhythm. The harder he thrusts, the more you clench, and the harder it is for him to stifle his grunts.
But you like the sounds he makes. Sometimes they're these deep groans that rumble in his chest like thunder. Sometimes they're these weak moans that you're pretty sure is him trying not to whimper. And you like the moans so much that you card your fingers through his hair and tug on a chunk of it as his head pulls back. His muscles flex, and his lips part. You watch his eyes flutter, this shocked whimper comes out of him.
“You did that on purpose,” his word and your moan mix together with the thrust of his hips.
“Ah…haha,” you gasp, nodding a little. “Yes, I—Oh, yes, I did.”
“What, are you a top or something?” he wonders, raising a brow.
You shrug, your mind a little blurry with the feeling of his cock shoved inside of you. “Dunno.”
He's interested enough to find out.
Once again, you're being moved around. You whimper when he pulls out of you just to sit you up again. Eddie moves to the head of the bed and pulls you back into his lap. “Let's find out.”
You take him in your hand, lining him up with your waiting lips. As you slowly sink back down onto him, your eyes flutter shut as you feel the way he fills you. And it only gets better from there as you slowly take him farther inside until he’s buried so deep that you can feel him pressing somewhere inside of you that you can’t quite pinpoint.
You’re fully seated on him now, eyes squeezed shut as you adjust to the feeling. Your hands come to rest on his chest, the fingers of your right hand brushing over the demon head on his pec. When you roll your hips and feel the way it presses inside of you, you’re immediately done for.
Your rhythm isn’t steady for a while. You move purely out of an urge to quell this need in the pit of your stomach. As you fuck yourself on his cock, Eddie’s hands hold your waist tightly just to have something to hold onto. You move quickly and without remorse, your head thrown back in pleasure as your hips lift up just to smack down on his lap once again.
For a while, you just grind on him, focusing on that deep spot that shoots electricity through your thighs. This pitiful sound flutters out of you, like a shudder running down your spine as your hands move to cup the back of his neck in your palms. His name falls from your lips with a plea, it’s a weak sound that would bring him to his knees if he wasn’t already on his back.
“Fuck, mama,” he huffs. “Keep going, just like that.”
His hands caress your skin, roaming your body underneath his shirt still draped over you. He hikes it up farther and farther until he feels your warm breasts. “Can I take this off?” he asks. You just nod, muttering an “mhm” as you keep bouncing with closed eyes. He pulls the shirt over your head, revealing your bouncing breasts to him as he takes a hold of them with greedy hands. He palms them, kneading them like he would dough. You just keep moaning as he builds you up.
You don’t mean to, but in an attempt to respond, the only thing that comes out of your mouth is a repetitive “yes, yes, yes” that echoes in the room alongside his own loud, open-mouthed breaths. “Shit, baby. Doin’ so good f’me.”
That makes you whimper, moving almost ruthlessly just to satisfy the rising need in your belly. “Fuck, I need cum, baby,” you whisper, repeating that again and again with each little roll. Eddie wastes no time in bringing his large hand to rest at the juncture of your thigh and your hip, his thumb swirling insistent circles into your clit. You gasp at the feeling, which is way more electric than you thought it’d be.
It becomes a little difficult to think. Visions of Eddie and his hands and your bodies, and the sounds of your slick and skin, and the smell of sex and body wash and cigarettes cloud your mind. You’re on the verge of tipping over the edge, you can feel your fingertips tingling with the wild sensations of your pleasure, so, so close to you now–
Eddie pulls you up from his lap, unsheathing your cunt from him. Your moans and your breaths are interrupted, and this weak cry tumbles from your tongue. He grunts, laying his head back and making this “hmph” sound.
You blindly reach for his cock, trying to guide him back inside of you before he’s lightly smacking your hand away. “Wait, mama, wait.”
“Eddie,” you whine, thoroughly unhappy with the way the growing waves in your belly had begun to retreat. “Please.” You could honestly cry. It had felt so good—you had felt so good, and he’d taken it all away in a matter of a second.
“What the fuck, dumbass?” you huff, looking at him with eyes unfocused with frustration and face flushed with lust.
“You’re so mean,” he says, almost as put off by the failed release as you.
“I was so close.”
“I know.” He sits up a little more, moving you off his lap. Your arousal is coating both of you, your thighs are sticky with it, his lap and his cock is glistening in the dim golden light. “That’s called edging.”
“I know what the fuck edging is. Why are we doing it?”
He laughs at your frustration, and you want to hit him. “Relax, we’re not done yet.”
“Well, hurry up,” you whine, already trying to throw your leg back over his legs. He just swats you away again.
“Turn around.” You would argue, but you’re too horny. So, instead, you turn around so your back is facing him. His hand spreads out along your back, and you nearly squeal when he pushes you down so your face is pushing into his covers. He pulls you up so your ass is in the air, grabbing one of your cheeks and squeezing.
“You still good?” He’s checking up, trying to be nice even though he was just the cruelest he could’ve been.
“Yes, please.” He likes you like this, honestly. It’s fun to see you so needy. It’s just something he can hold over your head.
He lightly smacks your ass, not enough to hurt but enough for your hips to jerk at the unexpected sensation. Immediately, he smoothes the skin with the palm of his hand and hums. He nudges your legs apart, spreading you open for him just enough as he pumps his cock in his hand.
“Just testing out some positions,” he says simply before he’s guiding himself back inside of you. It’s a welcome feeling, one you’re beginning to become accustomed to. Once he’s fully inside, he bottoms out with a heavy sigh. “It’s good to see which ones you like.”
“I like when I’m being fu–”
You’re cut off when his hips thrust into you, an almost cruel snap that makes this filthy smacking sound. You moan, literally feeling yourself melting into the bed as one of his hands comes to fist the sheets by your head. The other holds your waist tight, keeping you steady as he begins to fuck into you.
You really like this position. Being on top of him was so, so nice, but being underneath him is a feeling that makes your brain numb. You wrap your hand around his wrist as your other curls in the bedsheets, mewling feebly with every snap of his hips.
It’s dizzying, having him take you like this. There’s a light sheen of sweat coating your skin, encouraged by the warm air straying in through the slightly opened window. His breath is heavy, and you can hear him grunting every time his hips meet your ass. “Do you like this one?” he huffs, moving his hand to wrap lightly around your neck. He pulls you up from the covers so you can speak, your bodies bumping back and forth in the dance you’ve created.
You’re being kept steady only by your hand on the bed, gripping the sheets tightly. “Yes, Eddie,” you moan. You like saying his name, especially when you feel so good. It’s like a wave through your skin. It falls off your tongue with ease. “That feels good.”
He’s happy you’re happy. He keeps it up, losing his breath the longer he goes as your loud ones mix together in the heavy air of his bedroom.
You’re so glad Wayne isn’t home because there’s no way you would’ve been able to keep quiet. You respect that man too much to put him through this. The loud squealing of the bed certainly doesn’t help.
You turn your head to his arm, pressing your nose to his wrist to smell him. He smells like he always does, cigarettes and cheap cologne, like leather and maybe a bit of metal. But under that, you can still smell it. Green apple.
You kiss his wrist, and something snaps in him. For the hundredth time, Eddie pulls out of you and moves you back onto your back. Once again, you’re looking up at him as he locks you in. There’s a wild look in his eyes that makes you breathless, and when he’s pushing into you again, you moan.
“Right there,” you mutter incoherently when he fucks into you. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer as you keep your legs spread wide. “Yes, fuck, right there.”
Eddie focuses on that spot, punching the head of his cock into it over and over again and watching the way your eyes roll, your head falling back into the sheets and your hands tightening around his arms. He loves the way your lips part, your soft lips split open by the feeling of him. He bends down and kisses the exposed expanse of your throat, sucking on the skin and nibbling hickeys into your skin.
When he pulls away from your neck with a light smack, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down so your bodies are pressed flat together, skin to skin. He ruts into you, pressing his forehead against yours as you both breathe the other’s air. It’s all heat and lust and something else, something hot and heavy.
“I needa cum, Eddie,” you mumble, “For real this time.” You manage to get it out with a minimal amount of stuttering. You’re surprised you were even able to put the sass in it that you managed. He’s made such a mess of you.
His thumb finds your clit once more, and he’s circling the bud with a fervent kind of eagerness. “Keep breathing for me, mama. Breathe in deep.” You do as he says, so much so that you get a little dizzy as the air comes and goes. You buck your hips up into his thumb, your whimper getting higher and higher with each swirl.
You feel a knot curling in your belly, followed by a startling heat. “Eddie,” it comes out almost as a question. You’re addicted to the way his name feels in your mouth. You repeat it over and over, squirming and breathing and tightening your hold on him. He keeps fucking into you, focusing on that spot that makes you see stars as he just thrusts faster until his hips are moving in short, hard spurts.
When the dam breaks, it's with a slack-jawed gasp and a tight embrace. Your whole body tenses, like a coil tightening. It gets hot and hotter and hottest until a band snaps and you're trembling. You moan his name like a cry for help, holding his face between your hands and marveling at the softness of his skin. A brilliant shudder makes its way through your body, the quivering of your limbs making it impossible not to whimper and whine at each little shake.
Eddie helps you through all of it, keeping his in and out pace until it becomes unsteady with the fluttering of your pussy around his cock. Your mouth latch onto one another, more heat and lust and longing to fill the space between you as you recover with a dizzying head and buzzing veins. Loud and sloppy smacks accompany the ones coming from your hips, still meeting with the last sparks of your orgasm and the drive for his own.
His steady thrusts are unsteady now, just tiny little pumps of his cock inside of you as his breaths build into gasps just as small. You’re already coming down from your high, and your whines are sounding a little different now as you tilt your head to the side and hold onto his arm, the punch of his cock bordering on an overstimulated feeling after trying to recover from the large crash of your orgasm.
“Eddie,” you whimper, one hand still splayed across his cheek.
He pulls out of you suddenly, peeling his hand off of you to grab his cock. He tugs harshly at it, bucking his hips into his hand until he’s spilling out over your belly in warm spurts, these shuddered moans coming with it. “Oh, fuck, mama,” he whimpers in that sticky tone, burying his face in the crook of your neck as the last ropes of cum coat your skin.
There are a few moments where there’s complete silence—save for the sound of a car here and there, or a dog barking in the distance, or some people laughing even farther away, or your heavy breaths huffing between you two. Your fingertips caress the skin of his cheeks, drawing patterns into his face as he simply enjoys it with closed eyes and settling breaths.
When Eddie sits up, he takes your hand to pull you up with him. You both sit on his bed, looking down at your bodies now sticky with his cum, though his isn’t the only fluid sticking to your skin. Your thighs make a wet sound whenever you move.
You run a hand down your face, sighing heavily. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, popping your toes. Eddie watches you stretch your arms over your head, enjoying the way your tits look when you do.
“So I did good?”
You look back at him to see the way he watches you, his brows bouncing with a sly grin on his face. You roll your eyes, not looking at him as you chuckle. “Yes, Eddie, you did good.”
He smiles wide.
Eddie stands from the bed, and you watch the way he sort of limps from his room. You can’t help your grin at the sight. At least that means you did good, too.
Eddie returns with a wet cloth in his hands, which he uses to clean you up first, wiping away all of your slick and his cum and even some of the saliva from your neck left behind by his sloppy kisses. He takes care in the way he does it, paying such close attention to you to ensure you’re just as clean and comfortable as he wants you to be.
When he’s done with you, he wraps his hand gently around your throat and pulls you in for another kiss. You lean into it. His kiss is like air in your lungs, and you sigh gently. Then he disappears again and comes back clean (and still deliciously naked—you enjoy the sight of his chain link tattoo curling around his upper thigh). He rustles through his drawers, pulling out another shirt, this one clean and not somewhere on the floor.
“You’re staying over, right?” he asks, as casual as ever as if he hadn’t just cum all over your stomach.
And, just as casually, you nod and turn onto your stomach to stretch again. “Mhm.” He tosses the shirt at you. It lands on your head, and you don’t move to put it on just yet. He picks up his sweatpants from the floor and puts them back on.
Eddie nudges you to the side so he can pull the covers back, and that’s when you sit up to put on his shirt. You stand, padding across his tiny room to turn off the lamp on his dresser, shrouding the room in relative darkness. When you climb back into the bed, you latch yourself onto his back and hold him to your chest. He’s really warm, and it feels nice to be this close.
Sometimes you wonder if you and Eddie are supposed to date. There’s nothing casual about your friendship, and there never really has been (especially not now). But you think that having Eddie as your best friend, perhaps just under unconventional circumstances, is the best thing there is. If you ever decide to get together, that’ll be a moment for a time in the (relative) distance.
For now, you just rest your ear against his back and listen to his heartbeat. “Eddie,” you mumble, bringing your leg up to rest over his body like he isn’t bigger than you.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
There’s a huff that you think is him chuckling. He pulls a hand up and pats yours a couple light times. “Anytime, mama.” There’s some silence. “I love you.”
You smile. You love your best friend Eddie.
“I love you, too. G’night.” He hums back at you.
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