#SO much it was your dying wish to see them again

[garbagequeer]

haha guys it’s not that im pushing for heteronormativity i swear i just think it’s problematic to have more characters come out late in the game other than the designated gay side characters haha not because i think main characters shouldn't be gay or because it makes me uncomfortable when gay characters don’t come with a designated partner and instead of staying confined to their part of the story experience desire in many directions it’s just because it is queerbaiting! to make new characters gay! somehow! or fetishistic! or something! but it is not okay! but i swear im not pushing for a heteronormative story i swear it’s just that i think it’s cowardly to not make the characters end up all in their respective monogamous relationships and instead portray a more realistic idea where they can be with more than one person and their relationships can change during their lifetimes and they still hold love for each other in a way that is not limited to traditional romantic models haha. because you know you can’t end the story without telling me how your characters straight marry each other and have kids haha that’s just a cop out to avoid a real ending even if you tell me your characters’ lives to the day they died. yeah no it’s not heteronormative to consider classic endgames the only form of closed ending because i would support the designated lesbian and gay ship also getting married and having kids haha. what do you mean your story has been poking fun at the concept of endgame the entire time dont be silly haha

[coweye]

The Worst Logan

Logan Howlett x Reader!Loganverse| smut | 5.8k words

Summary: You are the deceased-anchor-being-Logan's lover, having found yourself with Laura in the void, you navigate meeting the variant of the love of your life. Sweet dick kicking angst with gratuitous smut, cause we all know Logan eats pussy like a CHAMP. 😤

This is self indulgence at its finest, but it had be to done. 7-years ago, the movie Logan broke something within me that has finally been fixed! 🤠💕

Warning: Explicit - smut. canon death, depression, angst, spoilers for Logan / Wolverine and deadpool, cunnilingus, unprotected p in v, creampie, all the good stuff. 18+

The first time you see him again, the new him, the other him you mean. It’s in the cave accompanied by a man who talks far too much.

You recognise his voice in an instant when the mouth finally allows him to get a word in edgeways. His voice. 

You’ve heard it nearly every night for the past seven years. It's a few octaves deeper than you remember and filled to the brim with vitriol but it's definitely his. The realisation that your memory has been warped by time is a blow to the gut but you continue towards the sound all the same.

When finally you round the corner Logan stands before you in all his glory. For a moment you are rendered utterly unable to form a single sentence as he leans against the wall, a bottle of bourbon in his palm and adorned in yellow and blue.

Your mind can't reconcile this figure as the man you buried. He has the same sneer, the same broad shoulders, he even has the same stance - but Logan, your Logan, would rather die than wear that garish yellow suit and admit to being the hero he always was. 

His nose flares in what you believe to be recognition as he smells your presence, you allow your powers to retreat and reveal yourself. As your invisibility ebbs away Logan snarls in surprise as the talkative man in red gasps theatrically and begins jumping on the spot. 

Your fears are proven well founded when your eyes connect with his across the room, instead of the love and recognition, you find only open hostility and rage.

Your heart had bulldozed all logic, you were in the fucking void, of course it was a variant.

This Logan looks younger; his hair not so grey, his face unscarred and his eyes not so tired. 

This not-quite-Logan stares right back at you seemingly ill at ease with the stranger who is currently taking an inventory of his face. 

“Logan, that's them. It’s X-23 and Y/N, the one’s I told you about.” You graze your palm along your daughter's back in support as you come to stand beside her. 

“Her name is Laura.” It’s a knee jerk reaction; your correction. Your girl wasn’t the sum total of an experiment, she was her own person with her own thoughts and feelings, not a weapon to be utilised. 

The Wolverine’s gaze darts between the two of you, it’d be comical if you didn’t feel like you were about to regurgitate your lunch. They land on Laura, and linger there for a few moments, before they return to you, it's as if he’s trying to find you in her features. 

You barely hear the man you will later come to know fondly as Wade Wilson, question how you all ended up in the void.

“There was a knock at the door TVA sent me here, saying my world was dying … and I never even got the chance to fight for it.” Blade explains remorsefully. 

“They sent us here because they knew we’d put up a fight.” You utter distractedly, finally breaking your staring contest with Logan as he takes a swig from the bottle he’s currently white knuckling. 

“People like us don’t go quietly, TVA knows that so they took us out.” Elektra attests.

“The answer is yes, I’m in.” Wade declares.

“In what?” Blade questions bemused by the man in red. 

“A team up, you me, me you, all of us together, lets get the fuck outta’ here.”

“Don’t listen to him, he’s a fucking liar!” Logan growls, furious at the other man. 

“It was an educated wish!”

“HA!” The loathing behind it makes you pause, he was so angry. 

The heat in his voice, the resentment, it burns you. You supposed even your Logan had his fair share of rage.  

When he arrived at the mansion all those years ago, fresh faced and wild, you had adored him even then, though Logan was far too preoccupied with Jean to notice the torch you carried for him back then.

It was ironic that It had taken the utter annihilation of the X-Men to bring you together. Charles’ accident had left the two of you as sole survivors. Over the years in hiding your ability to mould force fields managed to keep the worst of the effects of Charles’ seizures at bay, but Charles Xavier was one of the most powerful telepaths to grace the earth and your powers had limits. 

Those years were some of the darkest and yet the best of your life, you found yourself growing to love the man the world called The Wolverine.

You realise you’ve entirely tuned out Wade’s rousing speech and have spent the time analysing the man wearing your love’s face currently gargling bourbon though your name pulls you out of your reverie. 

“Laura, Y/N? What’s it gonna’ be girlies?” 

“Lets fucking go.” Laura agrees heartily, you simply nod still dazed. 

“YES! LET’S FUCKING GO!” Wade shouts back fist pumping. 

“You’re all fucking dead.”

Much later in the evening when the sun has finally set you seek him out. When you come across the father and daughter duo before the campfire you hold back, your skin slowly begins reflecting light, fading from vision as you call upon your powers to hide in the treeline. 

They both needed this and it wasn’t something you were about to get in the way of. They talk for a little while, before they part ways, both a little teary. Laura nods your way despite being unable to see you as she heads back to the cave, her nose just as keen as her fathers. 

So it shouldn’t surprise you a few moments later when you hear Logan's voice call across the clearing.

“You gonna’ stand there all night, Bub?” The man sounds utterly exhausted. 

You say nothing in response, only dismissing your powers and revealing yourself as you advance. You take Laura’s seat at the fire, not quite having the courage to look at him just yet. 

“You hear all that? Should mind your own damn business.” You remembered this Logan well, the one aching for a fight, desperate to shed his vulnerability and bloody his fists. 

“I didn’t hear a thing, Logan.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, you haven’t had to gentle parent The Wolverine in a while but it’s like riding a bike. “I wanted to let the two of you talk, she needed it and I think maybe you did too.”

“What do you fuckin’ know.” He growls dismissively, swigging from his bottle of what now appears to be scotch. “You can skip the speech and go back up, I’m not looking for company.” 

“I’m not here to tell you what to do, Logan.” Finally, you look away from the fire and find his eyes fixed on you, you swallow the lump in your throat before you speak. “I just wanted to see you.”

“See me?” He questions incredulously. “Well, keep the change, bub. Good night.”

Despite your smile at his words, you can’t help the tears that begin to cloud your eyes. Your mind and your heart have been locked in a constant battle since setting eyes on him. This man by all rights is Logan. The man you have mourned relentlessly and yet in every way that matters he isn’t.

“It’s like seeing a ghost.” Is the only explanation you can give him, his response is a stoic cheers with his bottle before he takes a deep gulp. 

Finally either his curiosity or the alcohol gets the better of him as he questions. “You her Mother?” 

“Yes and no.” His stare doesn’t leave your face as he waits for you to elaborate. “Her biological mother was a woman from Mexico City that the fuckers in the lab exploited, all we know is that she disappeared after giving birth. After … you … after everything that happened in North Dakota…” You trail off.

Your voice is suddenly thick and your words get stuck in your throat as you try to make them form. It's utterly embarrassing as you feel the traitor tears begin to form. 

A bottle of Johnny Walker enters your field of vision from where you sit staring at your clasped hands in your lap. Startled, you glance up to find the Wolverine standing before you, casting an impossibly large shadow as he holds out the bottle.

You accept the offering from his gloved hand, your fingers grazing his in the transaction as you take a swig or two (or three) before passing it back. He looks thoughtful when he places his lips on the place where your own had just lingered, as he retakes his seat. With amber courage coursing your veins, you continue. 

“She was all I had - if not for her, I-.” You wipe your nose, staring back into the fire. If it was a struggle to meet his eyes before, it was impossible for you now.  “I just couldn’t see the point in being alive anymore if everything just slowly gets stripped away; the X-Men, then Charles and then Lo-” 

You don’t know it, but you’re preaching to the fucking choir with your words. It was rare to find a soul, going through the exact same torture as yourself. Logan found himself softening to you, it was as involuntary as it was unwelcome, but he couldn’t help it as you described a battle so close to the one he fought daily. 

“-she reminded me what I had to live for. Laura she is fierce and so fucking kind; she is everything I loved about him.” You cut your trauma dumping to a swift end as you remember yourself. “So no, to answer your question. I’m not her biological mother, but she’s my daughter in every way that counts.”

Silence reigns for a moment as neither one of you knows what to say to the other. 

“You loved him?” Logan’s voice is deeper than before when he speaks the sentence. You raise your eyes from the fire to find his for the first time since you began monologuing. They’re filled with something you can’t quite name.

“I did.”

Logan seems to contemplate this, mulling it over as he continues drinking. Finally, he seems to reach some sort of conclusion.  “You should get some sleep, big day for you tomorrow.”

“Can I stay here … with you for tonight?” The words slip out before you really even mean them to. Tomorrow you might be going to your death and the ghost of the love of your life is here alive and real, what do you really have to lose?

Logan does a double take, not quite expecting those to be the words that leave your lips. “I’m not him, Darlin’.”

“No, I suppose you’re not.” You sigh, “but could you please just hold me whilst I sleep, James?”

A huge part of you expects him to tell you to fuck off back to the cave and leave him to his booze fueled pity party. However, against all odds, he doesn’t do that. 

Logan simply lifts the half full bottle of scotch to his lips and downs every last drop. He’s a little unsteady on his feet when finally he stands up to his full height and turns towards the blankets he’s laid out on the ground. 

“Fuck it.” He growls and drops himself like a sack of potatoes onto the pile with little regard for his own body. You’ve certainly had nicer invitations into his bed but when he waves you over with a lazy gesture, you can’t help but hurry before he changes his mind. 

Before you know it you’re tucked into Logan’s side. His gloved hand doesn’t quite seem to know where to go, more accustomed to brutality than tenderness these days as it hesitates for a moment suspended in the air. After some careful consideration he delicately places it on the dip in your waist securing you to him. 

Logan’s breath is uneven, though he’s doing his best to seem unaffected by your closeness. It has been years since someone has touched him with such easy affection and the way your body curls around his own as if it was created to do just that is driving him crazy. 

You are completely at ease with him, you trust him so entirely it almost breaks his fucking heart. Logan's stomach is heavy with something he can’t name, you fucking terrify him. Yet, he doesn’t move because you feel so fucking good as he holds you. 

It's scary, you realise, how easy it would be to pretend this was your Logan as you melt into his embrace. He smells exactly the same as you bury your face in his neck, the roughness of his beard feels the same pressed against your forehead. 

This Wolverine’s arms are a little fuller and his chest a little firmer, but he still holds you the same. You make a decision to not focus on such difficult philosophical concepts as variants and the morality of switching out your Wolverine. You decide to live in the moment, to just enjoy the furnace of his body keeping you warm and his arm encircling your waist protecting you from the world, it’s so easy to pretend that this was your Logan, so you do. 

And you fall asleep quicker than you have in years.

It is still night when you awaken, it's not quite dawn but the fire has burned out to a low smoulder. You’re not sure what has awoken you from the best sleep you’ve had in a long while, that is until you feel the arms wrapped around you and the sleeping Wolverine holding you in a death grip against his chest, his half hard appendage digging into your hip. 

Everything is still hazy; you’re floating in that sweet spot between waking and dreaming, you forget about North Dakota and, god forgive me, Laura. 

You’re back in your bed at home and Logan is holding you.

There's no my logan, new logan, old logan. 

He’s just Logan. 

You bury yourself deeper in his neck. 

It’s only for a moment though before it all comes flooding back and the agony overwhelms you like a blade to the gut. 

Instantly tears flood your cheeks as you shake from your silent sobs. 

“...Y/N?” Logan's voice is thick with confusion and sleep, his grip has loosened somewhat to allow you to breathe but he doesn’t release his hold on you. “What’s wrong darlin’?” 

That affectionate name is the last nail in the coffin it fucking ends you. 

All teary, and regrettably maybe a teensy bit snotty, you lean forward and kiss him. Kiss isn’t the right word but it’s your intention. Your lips touch one anothers before he’s pulling away and holding you back. 

“Y/n… Darlin’ you don’t want this… I’m not-”

“But you are Logan. You’re him just as much as he’s you.” Your hands rise to his jaw, running your finger along its familiar sharp edge. “You’re Logan.”

“Y/N… I’d be taking advantage…” His voice is firm yet gruff as he tries to inject reason into the conversation. As usual being the good guy he’s constantly telling everyone he’s not. 

“I am so goddamn sick and tired of being sad, please Logan.” This time when you capture his lips, he doesn’t rear back. You’re not sure what’s going through his mind, but his self control seems to snap within him as he begins returning the kiss in earnest.

Logan’s tongue swipes along your bottom lip begging entry, entry you swiftly allow. You’re breathing heavily through your nose as he plunders the depths of your mouth, exploring your mouth with his quick tongue. 

Deciding to make the next move you push yourself up, throwing a leg over him to straddle his lower stomach. He’s lifted the top half of his body to ensure he doesn’t lose your mouth, your teeth clash slightly with the movement and you can’t help a bubble of nervous laughter.  He pays it little mind though as he swallows the noise, his hands coming to rest on your hips. 

Instantly, you grind your hips downward on the growing bulge that lurks below. Logan lets out a deep groan at the friction and his hands on your hips raise to the bottom of your tee in response, his thick hands tugging at it requesting your permission.

Nodding, you pull back causing him to groan at the loss of your hot mouth on his. Though it's only for a moment as the second the tee is over your head, he’s back on you, only it's your bare neck he’s lashing with affection now.

Logan breathes in deep your scent mixing with the heady aroma of your arousal. He’s nipping and licking along the smooth skin, soothing his bites as quickly he makes them. It's the animal instinct within him, telling him to devour you entirely; make you his. 

“Logan…” You gasp, your eyes are clenched shut in pleasure as he bucks his hips upwards into your jean covered centre.  

Logan pulls back to take you in, writhing above him in the moonlight, you’re fucking beautiful, though the flash of familiar metal between your breasts catches his eye, unable to stop himself, he catches it in his fist. 

Dog tags; his old dog tags.

‘LOGAN’ is etched into the aged metal and they’re warm to the touch from living beneath your shirt over your heart. 

The realisation hits him like a freight train, not only was he loved by you, but for his other self to have given you these, he fucking loved you. 

He’s not sure why it didn’t occur to him before, that the other him was as devoted to you as you were to him. He’s not entirely sure how to feel about it, but he twists his hands, careful not to snap the metal string, but using it to pull you close. 

For the other dead Logan, the hero he’s heard so goddamn much about, he decides he’ll give you the treatment you deserve. 

As if you weigh nothing at all he flips you onto your back, his hands dropping the dog tags and falling to the waistband of your jeans. His dexterous hands undo the button so quickly, that your trousers are peeled from your legs before you know it, leaving you in an unimpressive unmatching set of underwear beneath his roaming eyes. Though Logan couldn’t give a fuck as he groans at the sight of your body exposed to him. 

Logan begins by kissing down your stomach before his hands linger on your black panties, he can't help but grin at the tiny barely there bow in the middle of them; you’re like a gift all wrapped up for him. 

His eyes lift to meet your own as he begins sucking at the fabric that's keeping your pussy from him, it's already damp with your arousal and by the time he finishes, absolutely sodden with his saliva.

“Logan, please…” you whisper desperately as your hands find his ‘tufts’ for a lack of a better word. They were new, but you liked them, plus they now seemed pretty functional. 

He takes only a moment to remove his gloves, before they return eagerly to your body. Those thick hands traverse the planes of your thighs, they’re quick in their passing as they make their way up to the waistband of your panties, he hooks them over his thumb and reveals your soaking core to his hungry eyes and he’s right back to wanting to fucking devour you, and boy, fucking does he. 

Enthusiastic, would be the word, earth-shattering would be another - the word to describe how Logan eats pussy.

Logan without much preamble dives into your centre, his tongue slips into your hot wet heat, lingering for a moment on your clit, circling it reverently before he dips that talented tongue inside of you. His nose knocks against your clit several times, each more delicious than the last as he utterly devours your pussy. He moans, grinding his hips into the dirt and readjusts pulling you closer, his thick muscled arms locking under your thighs as you buck against his mouth. 

You're a complete goner the second he slips a single long thick finger inside of you. 

“Fuck, Lo, I’m gonna-” 

“Come, baby... I got’ya.” He mumbles into your pussy. And fuck me, he does. He carries on lapping at you all the way through your orgasm, drawing it out of you like the pied fucking piper of pussy. It feels like you’ve been falling for hours by the time you finally come down, only Logan doesn’t allow you any reprieve before he’s back to lashing your clit with his quick tongue. Your hands find those faux ear tufts once more and he groans as you pull on them a little more sharply than you intend in your shock, in answer Two fingers bury themselves deep inside of you.

“One more.” He’s negotiating orgasms, but you have no qualms as he rubs his nose side to side with affection against your sensitive bud. His tongue and nose moving in pace with his fingers, currently fucking in and out of you. 

It's when he scissors those thick long fingers inside of you, hitting that spongy spot within you that makes your back arch. 

Your top half has left the ground, he grunts in annoyance, suspending your hips back to his mouth at the angle he likes. Those deep hazel eyes meet yours from between your thighs, crazed and animalistic, driven wild with arousal as he eats your pussy with gusto.

It's that image that thrusts you over the edge once more, your back hitting the ground as your body seizes, thrusting your hips against his mouth. 

Without any preamble a third finger joins stretching you deliciously. The hand not currently fucking you, leaves your hip to caress your stomach stroking the flesh there, not quite able to reach your breast. 

“Lo… fuck… yes… right… right fucking there.” You cry as he draws your second orgasm of the night out, only when you tug at his tuft due to overstimulation does he acquiesce and pull back, only of course, after cleaning up your gaping desperate hole. 

He sucks his fingers clean as he sits back on his knees, his cock thick and tenting against the yellow bottoms of his suit. Your arousal has soaked through his beard making his chin slick, he wipes it with a single swipe with the back of hand though, it does very little for his sodden chin. 

Tired of not touching him, you sit forward grabbing at his belt. It's a difficult contraption that confounds you, though Logan is far too wound up to find any humour from it. 

 He replaces your hands unbuckling the thing before finding the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head. 

There, finally in all his glory, he is exposed to you and you’ve never been a religious woman, but Mary mother of fucking christ, he is gorgeous. Logan’s chest is fucking… transcendant to behold, it's like he’s been sculpted by god herself, the light isn’t the best out of here, but you hope to god you don’t die tomorrow simply for wanting to take your time and lick each and every single one of those muscles on his stomach. 

Its your turn to leap forward onto your knees and join his mouth with yours, he tastes distinctly of you and his chin is still sodden, but you couldn’t give less of a fuck, you love the fact your desire is still marking his skin. 

Your hands trace the firm abs at your disposal, before dipping into his now open trousers and underwear to find him rock hard. 

If his physique impressed you, you had a big storm coming, because his cock was a fucking resplendant beauty and it was plain to see from the swelling Logan really liked eating pussy. 

Your fingers barely touched as you pumped him, once twice, spreading the copious amounts of precum along his shaft.

“Fuck.” He grunts into your mouth. You lean down, positioning yourself to take him in your mouth, though he stops you in your tracks grabbing your shoulder. “No sweetheart, I want your pussy.” You clench around nothing at his filthy words, this man will be the fucking death of you. 

You reach behind you and free your tits from their confines, another moan leaves his throat as he pushes you backwards. On his hands and knees he’s deliberate with every move as kicks the bottoms of his suit off as he prowls towards you.

Finally, he’s in between your legs naked as the day he was born. His hands are on your breasts, exploring the new plains exposed to him, playing with your nipples alternating between sucking and twirling them between his fingers. 

So lost in his skilled hands, you barely notice when one disappears to line himself up, it's a shock, the sudden intrusion, but not an unwelcome one as he thrusts himself forward and as deep as he can go. 

You moan his name into his ear, doing your best to keep your volume down.

He has prepared you well, you’re so worked up that he slides home through your tight slit. The sheer size of him means it's a stretch that borders on uncomfortable, but the second his hand finds your clit you’re clenching around him and grinding forward, desperate for more. Unable to control himself, his claws extend, he grunts pulling you close and thrusting them down into the ground. 

“Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts into your neck, where he's busy lavishing the flesh once again with bites. Your neck is going to be black and blue tomorrow, but you can’t find it in you to give a single fuck.

The two of you are so fucking close his bare skin so deliciously hot against your own, but you want more, you need more.

Logan pulls his hips backwards, pulling out of you until only the tip remains before slamming home and spearing you wide open his cock. Your moans blend together as you lose yourself in each other's bodies.

Logan is worked up from eating your cunt, so it doesn’t take long for the sensation to hit him.

“Fuck, where do you want it?” He grunts into your neck, as his hand descends to rub quick circles on your clit. He pulls your ass up, making sure to hit the spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.

You know he’s teetering on the edge, desperate to make you cum before he does. 

“Inside - come inside me, baby.” You whimper into his neck as he pounds into you reaching your deepest recesses with his thick cock, his hammering, it’s unforgiving with his enhanced strength but it pushes him deeper into spots you couldn’t have imagined. He groans at your words, sounding every bit the wounded animal he is. Your shared groans and the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as he takes you again, and again is all that can be heard in the clearing. 

Finally as he joins your lips in a kiss, you come hard on his cock. Clenching around him as your body writhes uncontrollably. 

Logan adjusts his hold on your thighs, now he uses your body, drawing out your pleasure but ultimately chasing his own. The pace is fast as he grunts and groans erotically into your neck, he fucking growls as his hips stutter against your own, and you know you should be more careful, but the thought of him cumming inside you has you gripping his cock like a vice once more. You give him a tight sheath to come in, and he pumps you fucking full of his cum and its a big fucking load. Logan thrusts a few more times, pushing his seed deep inside of you as he claims your mouth once more.

You run your hands through his hair as he lets his body fall against yours, he’s supporting his own weight, thank god, you don’t think you could handle his muscle, let alone the adamantium skeleton. He’s still sheathed inside you as the two of you revel in the closeness.

The silence stretches on for an amount of time you can’t quite quantify. The two of you take in your surroundings, listening to the quiet of the forest, until your breathing has finally calmed down. 

Logan lifts himself up on one arm, and pushes your hair back from your face. You stare at him in the moonlight for a long moment, unable to help yourself as you trace his familiar features. His strong nose and the curve of his brow, your finger dances along his flesh. 

Logan’s eyes close, so touch starved he basks in your affection. 

“I-” Logan goes to speak, before you drop your finger on his lips.

“It’s okay. Whatever happens tomorrow, happens. I’m okay with it.” You smile at him, there's a chill to the air but you’ve got your Wolverine warming you up. “I just wanted one night to be about something other than death.”

He takes your hand from his lips and kisses along the back of it and up your wrist, though It's a slippery slope as he hardens inside of you again. 

Logan manages to pull two more orgasms out of you before dawn.

When your time has run out, the two of you finally dress, not wanting to be found in a compromising position. Logan curls his body around yours and buries his face in your hair as he spoons you from behind. 

Just when you’re just on the cusp of sleep, he finally speaks into the night. Logan opens up about his world tearfully, instantly you reach your hand down, finding his own thicker one resting on your belly and you intertwine your fingers with his. He tells you of the mutant hunting as you draw comforting circles on the back of his hand, it's not much, but it's more than he’s ever had whilst reliving his worst day. When he has finally bared his soul, the two of you fall back into silence. 

After what has been an emotionally, not to mention physically taxing night the two of you finally fall asleep if only for a few more hours, two incredibly damaged souls offering one another comfort.

It’s later in the morning when you finally awake. The sun has risen that much is clear but you're slow to awaken from your comfortable position in Logan's arms, his warm strong body coiled against your back fighting off the worst of the early morning chill, his face still buried in your hair as he snores peacefully.

There’s a sensation niggling at you, you think it's what woke you up in the first place; you can’t shake the sensation of being watched. 

Lazily you open your eyes, only for your heart to drop to your asshole when you find Wade Wilson about 10-inches from your face lying on his side, his head supported by his hand.

“Mornin’ sleepy head, have a good night?” You can hear the smile in his voice. 

“AGH!”  Unable to stop both your cry of fear and your fight or flight response in progress, you throw yourself backwards, your powers activating of their own accord, and slamming your body into Logan’s chest. He startles awake, with the telltale ‘snikt’ of his claws extending as he orientates himself, his arm coming out to block you from the threat, despite not being able to see you. 

After your brain catches up, you call your power back, but Logan doesn’t do the same, keeping his claws out seemingly ready to slice up his not-so-best friend. 

“Get the fuck outta’ here, Wade.” Logan growls harshly at the other man, his voice is filled to the brim with hatred.

“Hmph - this is what I get for acting altruistically. I thought a good stress relieving bone in the woods with your cherie amour would really sort out that bee in your bonnet, but you sir are just a very unpleasant man and I’m worried that-”

“WADE.” This time Logan’s voice is a threat as he shouts at the man. You place a hand on his muscled arm to steady him. Though he may have stopped your heart with his antics, Wade isn’t doing anything particularly outrageous.  Logan shakes your hand from his arm and allows his claws to retract as he stands. 

“Thanks for jumping to my defence there, Y/N. Great to meetcha bt-dubs, huge fan.” You’re disoriented from the wakeup call but you shake the hand he offers you.  Honestly, you’re still trying to process the head-fuckery of the past day, so you don’t have a quick response for him, though the mouth doesn’t seem to mind as he continues. “That mean lil’ lady is asking for ya’. Thought I’d come and check you and big yellow weren’t still bumpin’ uglies. Didn’t want her to see you and Papa going to town on each other's fun parts.”

“Uh - Thanks… Wade?” 

“That’s me.” He theatrically begins bestowing multiple kisses on the back of your hand he still had in his grasp, which you retract gently. “Oh, and we’re done.”

Pushing yourself up, you go to stand though Logan offers you his newly gloved palm. You lock your fingers around his and the two of you stand together, inches apart and your fingers still intertwined, neither quite sure what to say to the other. Wade’s ‘awh’ over your shoulder shatters the moment and he drops your hand instantaneously. 

After a beat or two Logan leans forward, placing a single solitary kiss on your forehead. “See ya’ around, bub.”

“Where’s my smooch, Logie-bear?”

“Go fuck yourself, Wade.” He calls as he walks around, Logan doesn’t look back as he heads off into the forest. 

You still had faith he’d turn up for the fight, Logan always turned up when it counted and you knew this time would be no different. 

“Hate to see him leave, but love to watch him go.” Wade sighs linking his arm with yours. 

“Mmh, You can say that again.” You agree with the clown watching Logan’s ass as he walks away, you swear you see his step falter thanks to his impeccable hearing, but he doesn’t turn back. 

The two of you turn and you begin walking back to the cave arm in arm with the strange man to prepare for the assault on Cassandra’s lair when Wade finally asks the question you know he’s been dying to ask since meeting you “So, Y/N just between us girls… how big is it?”

LOGAN TENDER HAIR TUCK SUPREMACY RISE. I'll use it in every fic, don't think I won't.

Thanks for reading xxx

Graphics by my pal - @saradika-graphics 💕

[stunie]

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ “MY BOYFRIEND IS GONNA KICK YOUR ASS !”

WINDBREAKER BOYS PROTECTING YOU FROM PERVS. ft. kaji ren, togame jo, umemiya hajime, sakura haruka, hayato suo, toma hiragi, kiryuu mitsuki, & kyotaro sugishita x f!reader

sfw. wc: 2.6K. oh how i’ve been wanting to write this since i finished the manga! but individual warnings are below <3

KAJI REN. referred to as she/her, ‘my girl,’ comments about your outfit

“My boyfriend’s real scary y’know.” Your voice falters a bit as you take another step back, hands coming up defensively. “And he’ll be here any moment.”

It’s a lie that you hope sounds convincing— because Kaji coming to save you today may be nothing more than a desperate wish of yours. How would he even find you in a place like this? You’re not sure exactly how much time has passed since you’ve started running, but you’re certain that by now, you and Kaji should have already been inside the bakery, finally getting to taste test the new fruit pastries you’d been dying to get your hands on.

It started off as just a loud whistle your direction, then led to an uncomfortable conversation about how you’re not interested— and that you have a boyfriend. One thing led to another, and somehow you’ve ended up here, out of breath from speed walking and completely lost— and to top it off, the only person near you is the one you’ve been running so desperately from.

You wish Kaji was here already.

“Oh yeah?” The man in front of you takes a step towards you, lips contorting into a sick grin when he sees your hands trembling. “I don't see him.”

Your lips tremble a bit when he reaches you, towering over you with ease. “Don’t you dare touch me.” You warn, “My boyfriend will beat your a—” you yelp as you’re suddenly pulled to the side, stumbling into someone’s chest as they pull you flush against their front.

The familiar scent of candy melts away your fear in a split second.

“Kaji!”

You can tell when you glance at him just once that he isn’t happy. His forehead is damp with sweat, and he looks disheveled, chest rising up and down with labored breaths— he must have been running around trying to find you this entire time.

Your boyfriend clicks his tongue in annoyance, eyes narrowing as he sizes up the man in front of him. “Problem?”

He rips off his headphones, letting them hang around his neck as the man feigns an apology, unapologetic eyes looming over your figure again seconds later. “But y’know man, you should be keeping a closer eye on your girl,” he points to you with a smug smile, “she was practically begging for me to say something with the way she’s dressed.”

“I wasn’t!” You protest, face burning as you tug on ren’s coat. You thought your outfit was cute— and definitely not anything crazy— you double checked. You really did. But he’s pointing at you now, rambling on about how you wanted this— and you can’t help the way tears start to blur your vision.

“Huh?” Kaji snarls, head tilting to leer at the man. The arm around your waist pulls you tighter against his chest, and you hear the angry thumping of his heart. “What'd you say?”

“Okay, okay, I’m leaving now.” The man chuckles in defeat. “I was just joking. Wasn’t gonna actually do something to your girl.” he waves him off. “You should lighten up—”

He chokes when Kaji grabs a fistful of his shirt, pulling him off balance before knocking him backwards, your pursuer falling roughly onto the floor as he winces in pain. “Then get outta here already.” Kaji glares, a stark contrast to the gentle way his hand is pressing against your lower back to guide you away.

“And don’t let me catch you looking at my girl again.”

TOGAME JO. referred to as she/her, ‘my girl,’ you wear his jacket

Togame gives you a sleepy smile as he watches you from Miniso’s entrance, excitedly sorting through the newly restocked blind boxes. He was resting his back against the wall behind him when he caught his first glimpse of that guy.

He’s wearing a dark hoodie, head turning back to shamelessly stare your direction as he passes by slowly. It’s enough to get togame back up on his feet immediately, quickly heading your way just as the man reaches to get a feel of your thighs—

“How shameless.” Togame laughs, big hand squeezing painfully into his wrist. “Tryna bother my girl?”

In any other situation, Togame would chuckle at your obliviousness, your headphones cancelling out any noise as your eye catches the cinnamoroll section, letting out an excited gasp as you head that way. You really had no idea.

“M-my bad man.” He stutters, ripping his arm from Togame’s grasp. “Just thought she was my sister— was just gonna tap on her back to grab her attention.”

Togame raises an eyebrow at the lazy excuse, leaning down until the man takes a nervous step back, eyes darting to the side to avoid Togame’s glare. “Sister? That’s my Shishitoren jacket she has on, no?”

The man feels heavy beads of sweat roll down his face when Togame’s hands curl into clenched fists. “You mean to tell me your lil sis is from Shishitoren?”

“I said it was my bad,” he repeats, chuckling nervously. “It won’t happen again okay? I won’t bother her again.”

Togame’s hands return to his pockets. “Won’t let you off so easy next time,” his voice is low as he steps aside to let him off, “so you’d better keep your distance.”

UMEMIYA HAJIME. referred to as she/her, ‘your girl’

Umemiya instinctively perks up when he hears two voices behind him, momentarily tuning out your gushing about how cute the little plant kits at barnes and noble are.

“….She's probably taken.”

“Is that her boyfriend behind her? Think she's talking to him.”

There's a chuckle between them. “Doesn’t matter. Go tell her what you just said to me when she's alone.”

“What?” The man laughs. “Ask her if i can grab a handful of that ass?”

More laughter.

Umemiya’s jaw clenches, eyes darting back at you in a flash, and he’s relieved when he sees you’re still gushing about the flower kits— completely oblivious to the two men just beyond this aisle. He’s by your side in an instant, arms wrapping around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Oh.” You turn to press a quick kiss against his temple, smiling when he melts into your touch. “Hi, Haji. Did you find a book?”

“Nothing here.” He sighs dramatically, his embrace around your middle tightening just enough for you to barely notice. “But we can grab some of those flower kits.”

“Really?”

“Of course—”

“Hey.” A familiar voice interrupts him with a stifled laugh, followed by a tap on his shoulder. With the roughness, it’s more like a jab— but he lets that slide.

“Ah— your friend, Haji.” Your voice comes off as a mix between a question and a statement.

“Hey, my friend has something to ask your girl.”

Umemiya’s jaw clenches again, and your eyes widen a bit at the sudden change in the atmosphere. The first friend’s hand is swat off of his shoulder in a split second, Umemiya straightening back up to look back at them.

Their first thought is that he’s a lot taller than they had pictured. A lot more muscular too— and they take note of the way his muscles bulge against the fabric of his shirt. “What, you have business with her?”

They flinch at the tone.

“Ah— sorry.” The second friend stutters. “We got the wrong person.”

SAKURA HARUKA.

“Ah— what happened?” Your hands delicately cup Sakura’s face, ignoring the way his cheeks instantly turn into a deep shade of scarlet. “N-nothing happened!” He weakly swats at your hand, a futile attempt to dissipate the heat spreading through the tips of his ears.

“I was only in the bathroom for five minutes.” You laugh. “How’d you manage to get into a fight so fast?”

He stiffens when your arms come to wrap around his bicep, resuming your ramble about some recipe you wanted to try tonight. Macarons…or something. He doesn’t pay much attention, because he knows whatever you end up making will be good anyway.

“—Are you listening, Sakura?”

The clueless look he gives you confirms it. “So you weren’t. I had a feeling— but it’s okay.” You giggle. “But you didn’t answer my question from earlier either. How’d you get into a fight?”

His eyebrows furrow deeply as he decides whether or not he should tell you. “They were….” he clicks his tongue angrily, “they were talking about you when you walked by.”

You can feel his muscles tense as he deepens his scowl, still trying to fight off the blush plastered across his face. “I just gave ‘em what they deserved.”

HAYATO SUO. referred to as she/her, mentions of how you’re dressed

“What a bitch. She was totally asking for it.”

I know— dressed like a whore.”

Suo stands up from the bench outside your local convenience store, hands dusting off the dirt on his pants. You had asked him to wait outside earlier because ‘you wanted to grab him a super delicious snack that he would most definitely love.’

He had a feeling the two dirty men who entered the store minutes later were bad news, so he was already on high alert before listening in.

“That whore— you mean my girlfriend?” Suo’s voice comes out calm, a stark contrast to the sickening anger and pressure he feels building up inside his chest.

“Huh—oh. Yeah.” One of them chuckles, jutting their thumb at the entrance. “That bitch inside your girl? You let her prance around with her tits hanging out for everyone to see?”

He's calm and composed as they size him up, their chins tilting up to look down at him. “She's pretty, isn't she?” and Suo fails to stifle the chuckle that escapes his lips. “Did she reject you too harshly for your liking?”

One of them balls his fists, muttering profanities under his breath as he leans closer to him. “Now how'd you know that? You should really teach that bitch some fucking manners.” He reaches forward to grab Suo by the collar, eyes blinking in confusion when he finds himself spun behind Suo seconds later, feet struggling to find their balance.

“—The fuck did you do?”

“It’s a bad habit of hers,” Suo continues. “I understand it though, not wanting to be around a pathetic thing like you.” The edges of his lips tug into a faint smile.

The other man’s eyebrows twitch, spitting empty threats as he he throws a wide swing, only to find himself reduced to his knees seconds later. “T-the fuck...” he grumbles to himself— he could have sworn he could practically see his fist connect. What happened?

“You'd be better off looking for someone to protect yourself the way I do for her.” His words are mocking as he heads towards the store’s entrance. “And— it'd be really unfortunate if i see something like this happen again.”

TOMA HIRAGI.

“H-Hiragi? What are you doing?”

Your lips are pressed in a nervous line as your hands come to shyly rest on his chest, sucking in a breath when his arms come to roughly cage you against the train’s walls, strong body towering just over yours.

“Do you…need more space?” You whisper, heart racing at the proximity. You can smell his cologne so well at this distance.

Hiragi simply shakes his head, distracted gaze shifting between you and something behind him every few seconds. “It’s okay.”

He swears his stomach isn't churning like this without good reason. It’s not just a coincidence that the same person who he had noticed eyeing you at the boba shop had gotten onto the same train. He could let it go at that, but the same man had been slowly worming his way through the crowd to get closer to the two of you. And while he’s not certain, he thought he saw the man take out his phone and try and angle it beneath you, but not before jolting and dropping his phone onto the floor when Hiragi's hands abruptly slammed against the wall beside you.

The train suddenly rocks, sliding his phone to the other side of the train, and you’re knocked off balance, face slamming against Hiragi's chest. “S-sorry!”

“It’s okay.” He gives you a smile, hand coming to cradle the back of your head and pull you closer. “You okay?”

“I’m okay...” you mumble, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Your chest is hard.”

He responds with a light chuckle. It’ll be okay like this, he thinks. He’ll protect you with his body for now, and figure out what to do with that guy later.

KIRYU MITSUKI. ‘pretty thing’

“It’s no wonder she doesn't like you,” Kiryu sighs. “You're gross.”

Your mouth is ajar as you stare at the state of the man who was harassing you only moments ago, his unconscious body resting neatly against the wall after Kiryu had dragged him there.

“Sorry you had to watch that, pretty thing.” His hand comes to gently interlace with yours. “But he didn't leave me with much of a choice, did he?”

“It’s okay.” Your voice drops to a whisper. “That was so cool of you.”

His eyes widen a bit before his lips curl into a small smile. “Oh? You think so?”

“Mhm. I don't know what would’ve happened to me if you were there...” your voice trails off a bit.

You really don't know what would have happened, because it's not like you know how to fight or anything. Getting hit on is enough to make you nervous, so a pushy guy like that was too much— you froze up as soon as he started spitting threats after you expressed your disinterest.

There’s a light squeeze around your hands, and you’re reminded of this gentle warmth that Kiryu always brings with him. “Don't worry about it.” He gives you a small smile. “I’ll just need to accompany you more often when you go out. It’s no problem.”

KYOTARO SUGISHITA.

“You’re like a bodyguard, Kyo.”

You giggle at the huff beside you. “How’d you even react that fast?”

It all happened within a second. You were walking beside him, stopped for a brief second to bend down and peer at the plushies lining the shop window, not noticing the man approaching you— his grimy fingers coming to take a peek under your skirt. Before you had even registered the feeling of the cloth moving, there was a loud crack, and the man was on the floor, groaning with his hands covering his bloodied face and a very angry Sugishita on top of him.

“He made me angry.”

Of course he would be. And if you weren’t with your boyfriend, it would be an entirely different story. You’d bring along your assortment of self defense items, ranging from pepper sprays to taser lipsticks— and you’d be a thousand times more cautious. Pay extra close attention to everything around you.

With Sugishita, however, it’s different. You think of it as being able to turn off your brain… or something like that. Whatever lets you truly relax and enjoy your time with him, and it’s always okay because your boyfriend is there to protect you. “Well, don’t be so mad, cutie.” You smile, your fingers reaching to interlace with his as he tenses at the nickname.

“Everything is okay— I’m okay. I’ll even get us smoothies to help lighten the mood.”

He lets you drag him to your favorite smoothie shop in silence— still fuming about the incident. He wonders why you’re not shaken up. Ifnhe had been one second later, that piece of shit would have lifted up your skirt. In public. His jaw clenches at the thought, angry eyes darting at any anyone who dares look your direction.

“Why’re…” his voice trails off, remembering what Umemiya said about toning down his choice of words around others. “Why’re you so happy?”

“Hmm? I’m not too worried.” You laugh. “You’re my bodyguard right? Nothing will happen if you’re here.”

part 2

[cvntluver444]

taking what’s not yours

best friends girlfriend!ellie williams x reader

-`♡´- summary : you’ve been in love with your best friends girlfriend forever now. you leave it alone thinking nothing will happen, but what if ellie has been secretly wanting you too?

-`♡´- warnings : smut minor dni, teeny bit of angst? cheating, breaking girl code, perv!ellie, dina slander (ilysm dina it’s for the plot im sorry), public stufff, abby x reader and ellie x dina in beginning, strap sex, fingering, oral, spanking, slapping, dirty talk, dom!ellie x sub!reader, reader is receiving everything lol, crying, masturbation watching!, ellie says some nasty things so if that’s not your thing you can skip this one, intended lowercase, if i missed any please let me know! <3

-`♡´- a/n : SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMG this was so much fun to write i’ve been dying to post this!! i really hope you all like it! if you do, please show your support i appreciate it so much! if you don’t no worries! i’m a new writer so i can’t please everyone but i hope i do :p

🇵🇸 as always, please continue to keep sharing and supporting Palestine 🇵🇸

daily click

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

“first double date!” your best friend dina screams in your shared apartment. you laugh and you finish putting in your earrings. “i’m so happy you finally stopped thinking about this mystery crush i don’t know about!” your heart skips a couple beats but you play it off.

“yeah you’re welcome, now you can get those bff double dates you’ve always wanted,” you say smiling at her.

“i know! and abby?” dina lets out an impressed whistle. “ok girl she’s cute!” you laugh and give her a friendly shove. abby was really hot. she had the biggest arms, and she was so tall it felt like she almost towered over you, but there was just something about her that didn’t make you fall for her, or maybe it was something about you? maybe you just didn’t find her all that cute, maybe you just haven’t given her enough time, or maybe it’s because-

“oh hey babe!” dina cheers and runs over to where the door just opened. oh yeah, that’s why.

“hey, you look good,” ellie says sending you a smirk and making your cheeks go warm. “what are you so dressed up for?” you and dina give her a confused look.

“remember els? our double date?” dina excitedly tried to remind her. “i told you about it yesterday but i think you were too busy on your phone.” she then tells her with an annoyed look on her face. ellie’s eyes widen.

“oh! uh i didn’t know that was you. i thought it was another one of your friends babe?” ellie says, a slight panic in her voice.

“ellie, she is like my only friend, or the only friend who would be going on a double date with us.” dina tells her. ellie finally understands then turns her line of vision towards you. “who’s the lucky lady?” she tries to joke.

wish it were you you silently think to yourself. but that’s wrong to think, because ellie is your best friends girlfriend and ellie sees you as her girlfriends best friend. that would be wrong, and stupid, and horrible, and kinda hot, just sneaking around and-

“abby. abby anderson.” you finally say, quickly snapping yourself out of your disgusting thoughts. ellie’s eyes widen again.

“wait abby?” she finally says. “oh uh that’s fun yeah this will be fun.” she rambles on. you and dina give each other confused looks but quickly forget about it once you three gather into ellie’s car and head to the restaurant.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you, dina, and ellie enter a small and dark restaurant that you randomly found this morning. it was a cute and casual place and all you wanted to do now was drink.

“you guys go and grab a table, im gonna order us some drinks and wait for abs.” you tell them.

“ok cutie you know what i want!” dina excitedly tells you. giggling, you send her a thumbs up and turn towards the bartender to put in your order, missing the way ellie stared at you when your heavenly laugh filled the restaurant.

after putting in your order, you feel a big pair of hands wrap around you and squeeze. you let out a a quick gasp before slowly sinking into the body behind you.

“abby you scared me!” you laugh and you turn around, giving her a hug.

“aw sorry gorgeous i just had to,” she said, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. you catch up at the bar while you wait for you drinks. once you got them, you and abby headed to a corner table in the back to join the rest of your friends.

“abby’s here!” you excitedly say as dina gets up to give her a hug. you see ellie glance at her from the side of eye and make a small scoff.

odd you think.

“i’m so glad you could join us! you know ellie right?” dina asks and you and abby sit down. dina has the biggest smile on her face as she sits accrocs from you and chats with abby, who puts her arm around you. you could almost hear ellie scrunch up next to you at the touch.

you turn to her, “you ok?” you ask quietly. her facial expression changes into her usual smug as she asks you what you mean. “never mind, sorry,” you say back. you try your hardest to join in on dina and abby’s conversation, attempting to force ellie out of you mind but to no avail.

this is gonna be a long night.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

a couple drinks later, all four of you had a good buzz and conversation was flowing. abby’s arm fell off your shoulders as you drunkenly leaned into her. you were actually starting to have a really great time with abby. she was so sweet and respectful, and you could definitely see this going somewhere. you think she might feel the same when you feel a hand on your thigh, opposite side of abby. when did her hand get there?

you gasp. “abby!” you say her name playfully. “stopp” you drag out innocently.

“huh? i’m not doing anything,” she says back to you, confused look on her face. mhm you hum back. you allow her her hand to dance around on your thigh, until it finally moves up a little more, and her fingertips graze under your skirt. goosebumps cover your skin at how soft and delicate her fingers were.

“ok not funny anymore,” you slap her arm playfully, praying dina and ellie are too invested in their own conversation to see what’s going on under the table.

“i didn’t say anything,” abby laughs, “maybe you’re done with the drinks.” but then her fingers go from under your skirt, to under your underwear. you moan quietly and abby stares at you again.

“you good baby?” she asks, but you can’t respond because now her fingers are slowly pumping into your wet cunt, and as soon as they do, you hear a moan from ellie next to you.

you look over, seeing ellie and dina quietly making out next to you and your heart drops a bit. you wonder if they’re doing the same thing as you and abby, the table cloth covering your lower halves. the fingers in your pussy speed up their movements and your attention is back towards abby.

“fuck abs,” you breathe out.

“oh baby, what are you doing to me,” she moans out, both her hands coming to cup you face as she shoves her tongue down your throat, her fingers still reaching your spo-

wait what?

you stop kissing abby and dramatically look at her hands on your face. you count once, twice, three times. both hands on your face, one still deep inside of you. you panic and look around to where ellie and dina are still making out, however as you look back down, you realize it was never abby making you come close to cumming in fucking public.

it was ellie.

“oh my god!” you let out as you quickly stand up.

“hey hey hey you okay?” abby asks. both her and dina look startled at your reaction, as well as the whole restaurant. your head is spinning as you look around to see all the people staring at you.

ellie

instead of giving you a concerned look, she instead looks up into your eyes and smirks, bringing the fingers that were just inside you, to her lips, and slowly sucking your juices off her fingers. her gaze never leaving yours.

“bathroom,” you silently let out still in shock. “i’m gonna go to the bathroom.” you tried your hardest not to stutter as you run to hide. once inside, you finally allow everything to hit you, hating yourself that you were even more turned on that it was ellie, your best friends girlfriend.

you gather your thoughts and try to keep everything down as you head back to the table. you see all of them standing up already, telling you it was probably a good time to head home. you agree, following them out the restaurant door.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

the four of you make your way inside you and dina’s apartment, all of your happy banter filling the room.

“hey i think me and ellie were gonna head to bed, see you in the morning abby?” dina asks, a scowl on ellie’s face behind her.

“yeah, if that’s okay with you?” abby turns to look at your figure.

“yeah of course!” you cheerfully say, still feeling guilty about earlier. abby gives you a warm smile and your eyes stray away to look over at ellie, her eyes meeting yours. her frown turning to a smirk when she catches your gaze. you quickly turn away, feeling so much smaller than usual.

everyone heads upstairs and into the rooms. abby and you crawl into your bed as silence takes over.

“you sure you were okay today?” she asks you.

“yeah, i’m sorry i think i just drank too much.” you tell her laughing, a big smile on her when you do. the room falls quiet once again, before abby breaks it.

“you’re so beautiful.” you blush at her compliment and give her a quick peck.

“you’re too good to me.” you say, the situation earlier still not leaving your mind. instead of answering, abby pulls you into a more passionate kiss. she grows greedy and shoves her tongue into your mouth, showing dominance. she climbs on top of you and her kisses start trailing down your neck.

“fuck abby,” you moan out, she groans back in response, her kisses trail lower and lower until they’re finally resting on top of your clothes cunt. you beg her to do something before she slowly starts taking off your shorts, followed by your panties, leaving you in just your t-shirt.

“mmm so hot,” she tells her, then quickly starts licking your clit with her tongue. pleasure overtakes you, your mind overtakes you, and you think back to ellie, and how good she made you feel under the table.

“yes, fuck el-“ you catch yourself before you can finish, but sit up in a panic.

“woah, um are you sure you’re okay? we can stop.” you startle abby for a second time tonight, but we’re thankful she didn’t catch your slip up.

“uh yeah sorry um i just got really thirsty all of the sudden,” you rush out, standing up off the bed and going downstairs to get water. you don’t even give her a chance to respond, and you’re already downstairs at the sink. you chug your glass of water and give yourself a couple of little slaps on your face to snap out of it.

“nice outfit” you hear behind you, you quickly spin around standing face to face with ellie, the girl who’s name you almost just moaned upstairs. “or should i say..” she trails off and looks you up and down, “no outfit?” she questions, eyebrows furrowed as she bites her lip. it takes you a couple seconds to register that, while you were in your hurry, you completely forgot to put your pants back on, and now ellie had felt and seen your pussy.

“oh my god!” you silently panic and cover yourself.

“don’t be shy now,” ellie now stalks toward you. “nothing i haven’t seen before.” her infamous smirk once again resting on her stupid beautiful face. you felt so weak, you couldn’t do this right now, in fear that you would cave and become the worlds worst best friend. again.

“uh, what are you doing up?” you try to start some sort of conversation, but her movements don’t stop and she’s still heading straight towards you.

“well, i was gonna fuck my girlfriend, but then she fell asleep, and i was gonna go to sleep, but..” she paused again. “i heard you come down here after your little slip up with abby and had to hear all about it.” your eyes widen and your heart drops.

she heard.

“ellie no,” your eyes start to fill up with tears. you feel pathetic, but to ellie, you look so fucking good. “i’m so sorry it was just because of tonight and at dinner-“

“ah, tonight was really fun” she cuts you off. you back up into the kitchen counter and you’re trapped.

“your pussy tasted so good,” ellie tells you, her voice drops and her eyes fill with lust. “are you gonna be a good girl and let me taste you again?”

you can’t move. all your guilt and morals are now completely out the window as you stare up at the breathtaking woman in front of you. without thinking, you nod your head slowly, a dazed look on your face causing ellie to let chuckle.

“words baby, open that pretty mouth and use your words.” she tells you. she brings her hand up to your face, sticking her thumb into your mouth. “wider.” she orders you. you obey and her thumb travels into your mouth and down your throat, causing you to gag. she moves her thumb around in your throat, then collects your spit up in her hand, smearing it around your mouth. “good girl,” she says, as she softly slaps your face.

out of no where, her hands go under your thighs as she lifts you up on the kitchen counter. once up, she grabs the back of your head, forcing your lips to meet hers.

sparks

that’s what you felt, as cheesy as it sounds, you felt sparks and pleasure shoot through your body. ellie was such a good kisser. she took the lead, making your lips match hers in a sinful rhythm. with her tongue still down your throat, she spreads your legs open, both hands squeezing your thighs causing you to let out a whimper. ellie stops and slaps your face harder this time.

“stay quiet or ill stop.” she sternly tells you, hand aggressively gripping your face. you shake your head fast and try to go in for another kiss, but she backs away. “no, no, what do you think you’re doing. just stay put and look pretty. let me take care of you.” her dominance made your pussy even wetter.

she slowly goes down on her knees, trailing kisses up your thighs and her gaze never leaves yours. “els, please, need you so bad,” you beg her, you don’t care how pathetic you look, and you certainly don’t care that this is your best friends girlfriend who’s going down on you right now.

“how bad do you want it baby hm? why don’t you show me.” she has an sinister look on her face, but with your mind foggy with pleasure, you quickly get comfortable and make sure that your pussy is right in front of her face. you slowly start teasing your own pussy, fingers sliding up and down your folds, biting your lip and staring right at ellie. she stares right at your pussy, watching how you play with it, and how you make yourself feel good. it drives her mad.

slowly, you put one finger in your pussy, letting out a quiet moan. “need you right here, els. so bad.” but before you can get any deeper, she yanks your hand away and scoots you up closer to her mouth.

“fucking slut,” she breathes out, before shoving her tongue into you. pleasure hits you quickly, and your eyes fill with tears.

“oh my god, ellie,” you squeal. she ate your pussy so good. she knew exactly what made you feel good, and you were coming close. “you’re gonna make me cum, fuck.” now you looked pathetic. you couldn’t stop moving under her, she kept having to hold you down with her hands, which would definitely result in bruising in the morning. you had to grab onto her toned arms, hair, shoulders, anything. it was becoming too much. but before you could come undone, she pulls away quickly, toying with you a bit, then giving a quick slap to your pussy. you jolt up, moaning loud, before she comes up and shoves her finger into your mouth again.

“told you to shut this pretty mouth up,” she scolds you, but then she gets an idea. “i know something that can keep it busy.” she then connects her lips to your neck, leaving light kisses while she grabs your hand and brings it to the bulnge in her boxers. you clench and let out a gasp, not expecting her to still be wearing a strap, but needing her to do something.

“ellie, please fuck my mouth. please please please,” you beg her more and she bites her lip at your whimpering.

“so fucking perfect,” she compliments, pulling down her shorts. the same fingers that were in your mouth now trail to your pussy, where she starts to pump two fingers into you. “and so fucking tight,” she moans. “so much tighter than dina,” she smirks at you, watching your eyes widen and your heart drop, but your eyes roll back once she starts pumping faster.

“you think your ready for it baby?” she asks you.

“yes please ellie,” you beg. she lifts you up off the counter and you fall to your knees right in front of the strap. you stare up at her, your eyes sparkling, and ellie bites her lip as she feels herself get wet. you pulls your chin down gently and puts its in your mouth. you moan as you feel it touch your tongue.

“yes, just like that baby, fuck so good at taking me in your pretty mouth,” she tells you, the sight of you with the friction of the strap was just enough to drive her crazy. she starts pumping herself into you faster and faster, making you moan and gag, which was such a beautiful sight for ellie.

“fuck, i need you so bad,” she tells you, “flip over baby.” she demands, and you do. it’s clear that you have no shame. face down ass up on your kitchen floor waiting to be fucked by someone who is so incredibly off limits. ellie’s voice brings you back to reality.

“prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen.” you clench at her words, causing her to bite her lip. “fuck. cant wait any longer. have to fuck you.” quickly, ellie’s on her knees and lining the strap up so it’s perfectly aligned with you.

you gasp as she slowly slides into you so effortlessly. the kitchen slowly fills with the sounds of you wet pussy, the slapping of ellie fucking you, and both of your dainty moans. it was so sinful, yet so beautiful at the same time. ellie quickly speeds up her motions, her right arm grabbing you under your tits and bring you up against her chest.

“you look so fucking pretty when i fuck you,” she tells you, her left hand coming around to rub your clit. you cover your mouth with both of your hands as she starts pounding into faster and faster. lips covering every part of your face, neck, and shoulders. you two had a perfect rhythm, causing both of you to feel yourselves growing close and fast.

“els, you’re gonna make me cum,” you struggle to get out.

“i’m close too baby, cum with me please,” she now begs you, desperate to finish.

her thrusts are now faster than ever, as the noise in the kitchen becomes louder and louder, not caring if anyone heard. the feeling in your stomach now starts to unravel and your vision goes black. you let out a loud and long moan, which is quickly cut off by your hands returning to your mouth. however this time, ellie yanks your hands away from your mouth.

“wanna hear you cum,” she demands. you don’t hold back as you feel your thighs start to drip and your legs start to shake. you lean your head back on ellie’s shoulder, hearing her own moans of pleasure fill your ears. she fucks you a little more as she finishes, and then slowly pulls out of you.

you have never been fucked like that before. it was absolutely heaven.

“someone made a mess,” ellie smirks as she gives you a peck on the cheek. you look down and you realize you did in fact make a mess, ellie made you squirt.

“holy shit, i’ve never done that before,” you let out a breathy laugh and look up at ellie, who’s just biting her lip.

“s’hot,” she lets out, still exhausted from the best sex of her life too. you awkwardly stand up, still naked, and try to clean the floor, but ellie stops you.

“hey hey no let me do that, you just go to bed,” she politely tells you, and your heart melts. you ask her if she’s sure and she promises that she’s fine. you thank her and she pulls you in for one last kiss. “again sometime?” she asks you, and without thinking, you say yes and head up the stairs, telling yourself that you’ll deal with the guilt of it tomorrow.

you enter your room with a smirk on your face, still out of it from how good ellie fucked you. before climbing in your bed, you yelp as you see abby fast asleep. you completely forgot about her, she probably fell asleep, too tired to even wait for you because of how long you were taking.

again, you should feel bad, but you don’t, because ellie williams just fucked you, so you get dressed go to sleep with a smile on your face, dreaming about the next time you fuck your best friends girlfriend.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

LMAOOOO SORRY THIS IS AN HOUR AND A HALF LATE BUT I WANTED TO MAKE IT PERFECT EVEN THOUGH I RUSHED AT THE END SORRRYYY

i hope you babies enjoy ❤️ i love you

CVNTTTLUVERRRRRR owt

[xitsensunmoon]

My first ever comic con! And first cosplay too. Of course it's gonna be my boy :] Ramblings about the process are under the cut(Let me know if?? You would want me to elaborate with process images for any of the steps?)

The costume took me forever to make, as I've never done any machine sewing, sculpting, fabric dying or spray painting before but learning all of these was so fucking fun!! I never realised just how many different skills go into making a cosplay but it was so worth it!!!

Almost all of the clothes(except the hat) were purchased first as bases, but all of the detailing was added by me. All of the fabric used was originally just scraps that I was given for free so I needed to learn how to dye and dye all of the stars, they were originally white.

The sewing machine was its own beast that brought me tons of frustration from the lack of skill and knowledge (it was devastating to find out that 95% of fuck ups were my fault and not the machine's lmao). But as a result, a hat sewn from scratch, all of the fur trims, embroidery on the corset, stars and the collar(which is very hard to see on the pictures unfortunately) was all added manually. The stars and the stripes(on the back of the cape) were attached using heat-and-bond adhesive (I WISH I knew about such thing just when I started working on this. It would save me so much time and nerves.)

Then I found out about polymorph(mouldable plastic) and it has become the next thing I wanted to learn, to sculpt the claws and the fangs(yes, they're handmade jfksjs). The claws I then primed and painted in trillion coats because I wasn't satisfied with the colour of the spray paint. The fangs I moulded to my own teeth and then stained with tea to match the colour of my teeth :)c

As for makeup, I used Mehron Paradise water activated paints. At first I wanted to try to save money and bought myself Snazaroo instead, which unfortunately turned out to be a waste. Snazaroo didn't hold on my face for longer than 2 hours, cracking and peeling awfully. Mehron on the other hand survived 11 hours of me smiling, talking, emoting and such and didn't even crease at the smile lines(I'm actually shocked about that). It obviously works like any other makeup which means your skin texture and wrinkles won't go anywhere but Mehron's elasticity pleasantly surprised me. It did obviously smear from sweat and saliva(if you're eating and licking your lips) but if you don't touch the skin it just dries again, self setting. But if it's dry it's fully smear-proof. Highly recommend!

And last but not least, I've decided against painting my hands as it was very risky that I will stain everything I touch at the smallest hint of sweat. So instead I got myself gloves-tights(? Not sure how they're called but it's made from the same fabric as tights) and painted them with normal acrylic paint(did you know you could dye fabric with acrylic paint? I personally didn't), then heat set with an iron and voilà, they're reusable, my hands are not stained after an exhausting day and I don't stain everything I touch. It worked wonderfully which honestly was a surprise as I was really sceptical that acrylic paint will somehow stay in place.

I think this whole thing took me minimum of 6 months with big-big breaks for my school and life in general. But I'm really proud! This project taught me so many new skills and I couldn't have been happier about learning new knowledge, even if it sucked to fail in the meantime.

Everyone at the con was really nice and gave me a large confidence boost even tho it was my first time and I had no idea what I was doing. Taking photos with other people was really awkward/new for me as I hate cameras so I really had no idea how to pose/behave in front of one. But that's okay I think. This whole experience definitely made me want to do this again, so I think that will come with experience. Thank you for reading this far, hope you enjoyed this little summary :)

[the-original-skipps]

|| When there’s only one bed. || Wind Breaker Reactions ||

thank you so much for the support on my first ever multi character post it gave me enough confidence to try again haha due to certain circumstances there’s one bed don’t question it lol

: Sakura Haruka. Suo Hayato. Nirei Akihito. Umemiya Hajime. Kaji Ren. Togame Jo.

❥ Sakura is frozen like a statue at the sight of there being only one bed in the room. His brain is taking a while to take in the information, so it’s up to you to bring him back to reality. He’s startled when you suddenly touch him on the shoulder, for some reason you don’t know he’s super red in the face. He’s quick to declare that he sleeps on the floor before you even have a chance to protest and he’s adamant stubborn about it too. When you offered for him to share the bed with you and he almost woke up the neighbors with how loud he declined. Sakura has never slept in the same room as anyone before so this is new to him and he’s nervous about it. At first, Sakura couldn’t fall asleep because he jolts awake from every sound and noise you make but eventually he does. When he wakes up he’s in for a surprise to find you curled up beside him on the floor-arms wrapped around him. Now this time he really woke the neighbors up. Afterwards when you’re both up and awake he’s blushing and stuttering nonstop but realizes that having you sleep beside him wasn’t bad at all, in fact he maybe wishes for a next time.

“Why are you on the floor?! You’re s-supposed to sleep on the b-bed!”

❥Suo only has a calm smile on his face when he sees the situation. As a gentleman, he’ll offer to sleep on the floor but when you refuse and ask him to take the bed, Suo is quick to offer a solution to solve both your problems. Why don’t you both sleep together? Who knows what will come crawling if you sleep on the floor. You wouldn’t like that, would you? He wouldn’t either. It’s a win win situation. You’re blushing at his choice of words of “sleeping together” while he’s teasing you on how naughty your mind is. You were almost dying in anticipation wondering when Suo will take his eyepatch off but he doesn’t and you’re left disappointed. Suo has no trouble falling asleep while you’re wide awake is what he wants you to think. In truth, he’s actually pretending to sleep to see what you’ll do to him. Maybe take a peek at his eyepatch? Only when he knows you’re actually asleep does lean closer to place a kiss on your forehead whispering good night, and finally lets his guard down, really falling asleep this time.

“I meant just sleeping, but we could do something else if you’d like…”

❥Nirei is having a panic attack because there’s one bed what should he do? The thought of sharing a bed together with you has him burning red. Afterwards, he’ll immediately blurt out that he’ll sleep on the floor. You’ll have to calm him down and tell him that you can sleep on the floor instead but Nirei is also quick to refuse that too. Eventually you’ll have to give up because Nirei is really insistent and even thought of a list of excuses on why he should sleep on the floor instead. When it’s time for bed, Nirei’s head is running overtime with thoughts that he ends up mumbling some of them out in which you hear. Unable to take it you’re now sitting up beside him while he lays down, gently stroking his hair humming him to sleep. He’s flustered but he can’t fight your warm touch, it’s too comforting.

“Suo-san said that s-sleeping on the floor is a part of my t-training!”

❥Umemiya practically ran for the bed when he saw it. Immediately tossing and turning, moving around the bed almost jumping on it. When you offer to sleep on the floor he instantly shuts your idea down before you could finish your sentence. The only choice you have is to agree. Now it’s time to sleep, and Umemiya wasted no time in pulling you to his chest. Saying that he always sleeps using a body pillow but there isn’t one so you’d have to be it’s replacement. You wonder if Umemiya can hear how loud your heart is beating but he doesn’t because as soon as he says good night to you, he's lights out. His grip is iron tight, you can’t wiggle away. You couldn’t fall asleep right away so you spent the time admiring his cute sleeping face. You almost jumped through the ceiling to wake up finding his face super close to yours.

“Oh, let’s have a sleepover party with everyone next time but of course you’ll sleep next to me!”

❥Kaji almost crushed the lollipop he was eating but after a while his face returns to normal. Before you could say anything he already announces that he’ll sleep on the floor. He goes over to the bed and places the pillow on the ground marking his spot. When the time for bed arrives, Kaji mumbles a good night to you before lying on the floor. What he doesn’t want you to know is that he’s nervous and probably wouldn’t be able to fall asleep because you’re going to sleep in the same room as him. He switches to his wireless earphones, eyes closed trying to focus on falling asleep until he feels one of his earphones being taken out. Kaji almost let out a shout to find you lying beside him, with one of his earphones in your ear. You tell him you couldn’t fall asleep so you thought listening to some music might help. Kaji tries to hide his blush by turning on his side away from you but secretly a smile is creeping on his face.

“Urgh fine, you can listen but don’t blame me if you can’t fall asleep!”

❥Togame isn’t worried in the slightest that there’s only one bed. He seems as cool as a cucumber as he goes to sit down on the bed. You’re left standing, cheeks dusted pink, you quickly say that you’ll sleep on the floor but Togame refutes. He says he gets scared of sleeping alone so you’ll have to sleep on the bed with him. You’re steaming red now but you agree nonetheless. In truth, Togame sleeps just fine alone but since you’re here too why not share the bed? Why sleep on the dirty floor when there’s a perfectly good bed right here for the two of you? You don’t know if it’s on purpose but his face is awfully close to yours but when you turn your back on him-he wraps his arms around you from behind pulling you to his chest. Which causes you to freeze, his head buried in your neck, trying to nuzzle even closer, his breathe tickling your skin.

“This is comfortable, let’s just fall asleep like this….” 

[sinsofsummers]

sensational

6.9k | joel miller & f!innocent!reader part two

this comes from this request. a few liberties were taken with the details (the reader knows that sex exists, but not much else), just fyi!

summary: thanks to becoming an orphan at age 13, you've lived the rest of your life oblivious to all the world can offer. now that you're in jackson, joel miller ignites something in you that only he can give answers to. warnings: slight angst (mentions of parent loss), innocent!fem!reader, age gap (joel is 56, reader is 25), kind of pervy!joel, smut (18+, mdni!!!), fingering, grinding, reader watches old pornos with joel, slight praise kink, no use of y/n. note: i planned originally to have this be just one part, but even though it ends in a way that i like, i could maybe be convinced to write a second part teehee (part two coming soon!)

You used to love the rain. The way it cascaded down your skin in little droplets, cleansing your body from a hard day's work, and the way it made your hair look so perfectly disheveled.

You craved the rain, until it became nothing but a reminder of the night your parents died.

It had been years at this point, but you would never quite forget how young, and small, and unsuspecting you'd been when they told you to run. How cruel, that time might pass, you might change, but with one smattering of rain, you returned so swiftly to the worst night of your life.

The three of you had been living alone, making your way...somewhere, but they never told you where. Your parents' only wish was to keep you safe, that much was clear. So it shouldn't have been a surprise that upon an ambush by at least ten clickers, after both your parents had been infected, that they'd insist that you run.

"Please, darling," your mother had pleaded, a lump in her throat as she formed the words. "Don't make me beg. I need you to run. Promise?"

Your father was somewhere else, but you could hear him yelling in the distance, in a fight for his life. You were too young, even at thirteen, to understand that those were the sounds of a dying man.

"I'll be right behind you," she'd choked on the last phrase, and in hindsight, you knew she was lying. But in the moment, you'd believed her. You couldn't see the bite she was hiding on her arm, her fate already sealed. "I'll come for you, my love," she insisted, "but I need you to go. Head for the woods."

It was the last time you saw her. You'd turned tail and had run as fast as you could for the woods.

The last thing you heard was a gunshot. A single shot, echoing around you in the trees. It may have been impossible to know, but you didn't need to turn back. Your parents were dead.

If you hadn't found Jackson, who knows how long you might have lasted. Nearing your twenty-first year, you'd proven valuable to the community, and they'd welcomed you in. Jackson was the first home you'd had since you were five.

It hadn't occurred to you that you were years behind your peers in terms of...well, everything, until you met Joel.

Rugged, tan, and sporting a perpetual frown paired with an ever-present crease between his brows, Joel Miller was your patrol partner. You weren't exactly sure why, and he didn't seem particularly pleased about it, but then again—he never seemed particularly pleased about anything.

It hadn't struck you as anything to be proud of, or to boast about to the other young women in Jackson, but they certainly loved coming up to you and expressing their jealousy when they felt so inclined.

"What's he like on patrol?" they'd ask, their eyes wide and lips curled in smirks as they waited for any insight you could give them on his mysterious personality.

All you could ever say over the next four years was a quick, "He's quiet."

Maybe that was why the two of you worked well. He wasn't much of a talker, and after you'd lost your parents, you hadn't been one to waste any breath on conversation, especially when you had survived alone with your own thoughts for almost eight years.

Silence was your mutual understanding. No talking meant no questions, and no questions meant no problems.

And this worked. Until it didn't.

-- -- --

It started like anything started. Quietly, hardly a bother, until it sank into the marrow of your bones and demanded that you address it.

More literally, it started in your shoulders. You'd been on patrol with Joel, a quiet, "Let's go," his only words to you that morning. They were his only words to you every morning, and that day was no different.

Patrolling with him was easy. Like you'd said—no talking, so no problems. You rode next to each other on your respective horses, and there was nothing more than a glance or two toward each other when necessary. It was the only form of communication that the two of you shared.

His big brown eyes had always startled you, looking so inviting in the contrast of the white snow during the winter, but they never showed you more than he allowed you to see. And all you saw of Joel was his dedication to sleep, patrol, eat, and repeat.

You hadn't felt the desire to look that closely at him until some of the girls in Jackson asked you how big his hands were, or what he looked like up close.

"You know," one of them had crooned, not realizing you were unsure of their intentions, "what does he look like without that big old coat on?"

You'd shrugged. "Why should I know?"

Another one wiggled her eyebrows. "Doesn't it get...lonely out there? Nothing but you, the snow, and a big man like Joel to keep you company?"

The faces of those girls, the glint in their eyes, it was something you couldn't quite decipher, as much as you wished you could. So one day, you'd asked the man himself what it all meant.

When you said it for the first time, it was so quiet that you could hardly even hear yourself.

Joel grunted, the only indication that he'd heard you.

Your cheeks burned, but you couldn't find a reason why. This was just Joel. He seemed to know everything there was to know about life; surely he could help you understand this. "Why do the girls in town keep asking me what it's like to patrol with you?"

He didn't answer for a second, but then shrugged. "They botherin' you?"

"No." You weren't quite sure that was true, and knowing him, he could probably hear the lie in your voice. "They're just kind of...belligerent."

His eyebrow cocked. "S'a big word," he mused. "Sure you know what it means?"

Your cheeks grew hot. "Yes," you insisted sharply. "I do read, you know."

He murmured a response, but the wind carried it away from you. You rode in silence for a bit longer before he said, "Don't let those girls get in your head. I think they just wanna get a rise outta you."

"A rise?"

Joel nodded and brought his horse to a routine stop. This was where the two of you always stretched your legs. He reached up to help you down your own mount and set you on the ground gingerly. "You know," he said, as if you should know, but with no regard for the fact that you didn't. "You're still kinda new here. Seems they're still pretty dead-set on embarrassin' you."

"I'm not embarrassed," you insisted again. "I just...is there a joke I'm not getting?"

"Any reason you chose to talk so much today?" was his only answer, which made your stomach clench.

There was no reason for you to be offended, as it was your typical routine to remain quiet unless absolutely necessary, but you couldn't help the way your lips curved downward. "Sorry," you mumbled, "forget I asked."

He was quiet again as the two of you walked at least two hundred paces, stretching out your sore muscles in the snow. It used to be comforting, the silence. It wasn't maddening, it didn't ever bother you if Joel was in his thoughts. You weren't even sure at times if he had any. But all that had changed now; his brow creased more than it usually did, and you wanted nothing more than to ask him what he was thinking.

Joel was the one constant in your life now. Maybe it was a—well, probably it was a trauma response from losing your parents, but you couldn't help it. You didn't need much from anyone, just someone to stay. Joel was strong enough to take care of himself and was smart enough not to make any rash decisions. As far as you could tell, he'd stay.

So how could you be so embarrassed by asking these questions?

"I forgot how long you said you were...alone out there," his grunting voice filled the space between you once more. It was quiet, and he sounded hesitant, as if he wasn't sure how to speak.

"Since I was thirteen," you said mechanically, so familiar with others in Jackson asking the same question.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath. "And you're how old?"

"Twenty-five," you said, feeling oddly small in his presence.

He shook his head. "That's a long time to be alone," he muttered, blowing out a breath.

You huffed. "Yeah, well, I survived. And besides, I've been here for four years now, you know."

"I know."

Again, the silence. Infuriating.

Then, you couldn't help it. "What's...'spooning,' and why do those girls ask me if we've done it?"

Joel stumbled, reaching out for balance. His hand found purchase on your shoulder, and you caught him awkwardly. "You don't even know what spooning is?" He sounded incredulous, as if you'd asked a juvenile question.

The warmth from his hand was astonishing, and distracted you from your embarrassment, if only for a moment. It sank through his glove into your coat, and down toward your skin. Something about the weight of his hand on your shoulder, even for a second as he removed it quickly, was enough to send you spiraling.

Your face burned. "Never mind," you said quietly and mounted your horse again. How stupid could you get? You scolded yourself. You'd ventured too far into this conversation, and now you didn't know how to get yourself out of it. "I was just...never mind. We should get back."

He nodded, but his face still looked somewhat pinched. "Yeah. S'getting dark."

The sun was still up. No intention of sinking beneath the horizon for at least a few hours. You rode again in uncomfortable silence, this time letting it fill the space. You foolishly thought that maybe if you were quiet long enough, he'd forget that you'd made a fool of yourself, that you'd exposed yourself to the truth: that you knew hardly anything about...anything except for survival instincts.

When Joel spoke again, it surprised you. "I didn't mean to tease ya," he said. "It's just kind of a surprise that you're not...that you don't..." he looked over at you, and there was some type of pleading in his eyes, as if he were begging you not to make him say it.

"That I don't what?" you said dumbly, hoping you didn't sound as childish as you felt.

He pondered his next words carefully, and then he hummed, "If you want, I could...teach you some stuff."

"Like spooning?" You felt a warmth in your face as you watched his shoulders hunch with a soft laughter. Your own shoulder burned where he'd touched it, and something bloomed in your gut.

He chuckled. "I don't know about all that," he said, "but I'll help you get...back on track. Would hate for someone to take advantage of your...innocence." It sounded sinful, the way he said it, and the something in your gut pulsed.

"You don't have to," you shook your head, but you didn't even believe the words as they came out of your mouth. "I'll just ask someone else."

"Darlin', don't trust anyone else to give you straight answers. I'm older'n half of everyone in Jackson, anyway." He flashed you a look. "I'll help. Whatever you want to know."

You bit the insides of your cheeks, your stomach turning strangely. "Anything?"

He nodded dutifully, but his eyes had already left yours. Joel Miller, ever the professional. "Whatever you want."

-- -- --

Joel liked to consider himself someone who would never again suffer the shock of surprises. After having lived through and seen more shit than any normal person could, he thought he'd experienced it all.

That is, until her pretty lips had opened and asked him to teach her about all she'd missed. Until she asked him to teach her.

He hadn't really seen her as the picture of innocence until he'd heard how long she'd been alone, surviving with no one and nothing besides her own thoughts and the clothes on her back.

The least her parents could do was teach her how to shoot, he'd thought when he first met her. It was a curiosity that was quickly resolved, as she'd proven herself valuable to Jackson.

Tommy had wasted no time putting them on patrol together. "It'll be good for you," his brother had reasoned when he brought up concerns. "You know, to talk to someone out there. I know she's on the young side, but you don't gotta fall in love with her." He'd flashed an apologetic smile when Joel had scowled. "You're scarin' everyone, Joel. Bein' all quiet and shit...it's—"

"It's what?" he'd asked gruffly. "I don't do it on purpose. I'm a grown man."

This was all true, and he very much didn't do it on purpose. With no one around whom he deemed worthy of his conversation, Joel Miller had become the quiet, introspective version of himself that everyone decided to become scared of all of a sudden.

The way he saw things? It wasn't his fault everyone in Jackson was boring. Or childish.

But her. With her unmistakable will to survive and those eyes that could burn fierce with ire one moment, and soften with curiosity the next...it was only a matter of time before he agreed to do whatever she asked.

He should have seen it coming, especially considering her past. Every time he thought of just how...unsuspecting she was about...everything, he had to shake his head, clearing it of any thoughts that threatened to take advantage of her.

But being ignorant of spooning. He had to clear his throat every time he thought of what that might mean for himself in this particular arrangement. If she knew nothing of something so...palatable, he could hardly help himself when thinking of what else she might be unaware of.

He tried to be patient, and he tried to be respectful, but at the end of the day, he was Joel Miller. From the moment she looked at him with those wide eyes, he was lost.

-- -- --

"What I would give to give that man the ride of his life," one of the girls next to you hummed at breakfast the next morning, her eyes presumably glued to Joel, who'd just come into the cafeteria. You didn't look up at him, instead casting a confused glance toward the girl who'd spoken.

"Ride where?" You cursed your quick instinct to ask questions, as the girls erupted into a fit of giggles. Face burning, you looked down again at your plate. "Never mind," came your almost instantaneous response. You were getting used to having to apologize for your ignorance, and people rarely—especially not these girls—offered their kindness.

One of the other girls snickered. "Why don't you ask him? I'm sure there's nothing much to talk about out there anyway," she said, smiling widely. Her next words were nothing short of a drawl, the complete essence of mockery. "'Joel, what's it mean to ride?'" she pinched her face in what you assumed was an impression of you, and it only made your eyebrows furrow despite your stomach sinking in utter horror.

And then there he was. He'd called your name, and now he was standing behind your left shoulder, hand outstretched to save you.

You were sure his hand had never looked quite as appealing as it did now. The calluses on his palm were raised and visibly rough. For a moment, you stared at his fingers and wondered what they might feel like against your cheek.

Swallowing a lump in your throat, that something arose in your gut once more before you heard him murmur your name again.

"Come on," he grunted, but there was a gentleness to it that made the hair on the nape of your neck stand on end. "Time to go."

The girls at your table were silent when you took his hand gingerly and let him lead you from the cafeteria. You noted the swift wave of cold that hit your hand as soon as he dropped it, just a second later. Clasping your hands together, you hoped in a fit of desperation that you might preserve some of the weight and warmth of his touch on your skin. It failed.

"Thanks," you said later, when the two of you were outside the community's borders. Jackson felt a bit too stuffy for any real admissions of gratitude, you'd decided. It turned out to be a good conclusion when you felt the delicious churn of your stomach at the idea of being alone with him once more.

I'm sure there's nothing much to talk about out there anyway, one of the girls had said. Doesn't it get lonely out there? You were reminded of another's teasing, and this time your cheeks burned at the memory. Nothing but you, the snow, and a big man like Joel to keep you company.

He was big, you considered. When he stood next to you, his frame was almost larger than life, and his shoulders were sinfully broad when you watched him walk in front of you on previous patrols. The sheer size of him was enough to send you into a heady descent.

As usual, Joel didn't answer for what felt like ages, and you'd begun to wonder if he could see where your train of thought had led you. Then:

"You could have told me they were bein' that outrageous," he grunted, keeping his eyes forward. "I woulda helped you out sooner. S'no fun feelin' left outta everything."

It was...odd to hear such words come from a man like Joel. Although, you reminded yourself, you'd hardly spoken to him in the four years that you'd been in Jackson; who was to say he wasn't normally like this? A quiet, brooding older man, yes; but maybe he was naturally like this. One to offer his help.

"If you wanted to help, you would have made an effort four years ago." You let your words hang in the air. You didn't mean for them to come off sharp; it was simply the truth. "I don't need your help," you added, tightening your hands on the reins of your horse and swallowing roughly. "It was fine. I am fine."

He flashed you a look as if to say, is that so? You couldn't help but notice the way the corners of his eyes creased, the only sign of amusement. It was all you could do to keep your eyes on him, although you weren't sure how you were going to explain the way your mouth went dry at the sight of his big brown eyes.

"Besides," you insisted quietly, "you're not my dad."

Joel cleared his throat. Looked down, shoulders tense. Inhaled. "No," he said decidedly. "No, I'm not."

Emboldened by this clarification, you inquired, "So what did those girls mean earlier? Riding, I mean?"

If you could have guaranteed the image of Joel's eyes going wide in surprise to remain in your head for the rest of your days, you would have done it instantly. His forehead was creased as his eyebrows lifted, and despite his position facing away from you, you could see it all.

The way he seemed to wrestle with himself before answering, the way his hands seemed to clench in his gloves. "So, uh..." he started, and then paused again. Mustering up whatever courage he needed, Joel finished, "Well, ya see, when a man and woman love each other very much—"

"Joel." Oh. You couldn't help it when a breathless chuckle left your lips.

He was silent, and when he finally answered, it wasn't a question. "What."

"I'm not fucking stupid. I know how reproduction works."

Joel's chest rose and fell in a deep sigh, and you couldn't ignore the look of complete relief that washed over his rough features. "Thank fuckin' Christ. Didn't know if I had it in me for another sex talk. I'm too old to be doin' this."

"Believe it or not, my parents did leave me with the basic information." Swallowing roughly, you continued. "And I know...I know that men usually...take. It's an assertion of power, from what I've...seen."

He shook his head. "Guess I shouldn't be surprised that you've run into your fair share of dirtbags, even in the middle of the world goin' to shit." He ran a gloved hand through his hair, and you secretly enjoyed the way it stood up. "Anyone ever, you know...take...from you?"

Hearing your own words regurgitated back to you left you feeling fluttery. Shaking your head, you got down from your horse; you'd reached your typical resting spot. "No," you said firmly. "They never wanted me."

Joel nodded. "S'good," he said, and it bothered you to no end that you couldn't understand the emotion in his voice. "So..."

By now he was standing next to you, closer than you were used to, judging by the way his coat sleeve bumped yours as the two of you walked, stretching your legs. "So," you said, thinking up a way to make this conversation less awkward. "I just hate feeling like a kid again. I'm twenty-five, for fuck's sake. There's more than just survival when it comes to living. I just want to know what I'm missing out on," you confessed with a hand on your stomach.

When Joel brushed by your side again your stomach flipped. And what the fuck is that about, and why do I keep feeling it? You asked inwardly, but you were too nervous to ask. Bombarding Joel with questions, especially after you'd just started talking to him on patrol after four years, seeming to be the wrong path to take.

He shrugged, eyebrows still furrowed in thought. "There's nothing to miss if you don't know what you're missin'."

"Yes," you admitted, "but that doesn't stop any of those girls from making me feel like I'm..."

"Innocent?" he murmured, and you thought you weren't meant to hear it until he turned to look at you.

Those big brown eyes, they just won't quit, a voice nudged you in your head.

"I don't want to be innocent," you groaned, throwing your head back. "God, not in the sense that they see me in. Sounds like a damn curse."

The sound of his rumbling laughter, however quiet, sent a shock down your spine and you nearly tripped in the snow. "There's pros and cons, I s'pose," he offered. "It's like I said: I'll help you get back on track. If that's what you really want."

"It is." You stopped walking, took a look around at the landscape, otherwise empty with the scattering of trees. You swallowed, pressed one. "So...riding. It's a part of reproducing, then?"

He chuckled again, but this time it didn't come off as demeaning. It was like he was teasing you, but good-naturedly. "Let's not jump too far ahead of ourselves, yeah? Start with somethin' smaller. Then we'll work our way up."

Joel's eyes were piercing when he held yours in his gaze. If someone watched this conversation, you were sure they'd be able to see the blush blooming on your cheeks.

"Learnin' takes time, ya know," he mused, his growling voice nearly a hum that could have warmed you from the inside out.

You'd made it to the edge of the woods now. This was normally where you turned back, heading for home. But neither of you moved. The bubble of something pulsed again, and you swallowed roughly before whispering hoarsely, "So where should we start?"

-- -- --

If Joel were a better man, he might have warned her what the curse of innocence in a young woman could be. He might have shook his head, stepped back, and told her to ask someone else. He might have taken the reins and turned the two of them back toward Jackson.

If he were better, he wouldn't have stepped closer to her. If he were a better man, he wouldn't have looked into her sparkling eyes and let the question slip. Fuck it all.

"You ever been kissed, darlin'?"

-- -- --

You swallowed. Don't make a fool of yourself, you begged yourself before answering with a quiet shake of your head. "Not many contenders out there. Not any good ones, anyway."

He'd leaned closer to you with his question, and now you could practically see each line of age in his face. Joel's expression was unclear; he could have been pleased with this information or...or maybe there was pity in his eyes. "No," he said with an understanding nod. "No, I suppose there wouldn't have been."

He lifted a gloved hand to his mouth and you watched as he traced it along his lips. The gray strands in his hair glinted off the sunlight, blinking pleasantly in your eyes. That something pulsed once more in your stomach, and there was a sort of realization that came with it.

Joel, you thought. Joel is making me feel like this.

"Will you kiss me?" The words were out of your mouth before you could reel them in.

But instead of laughing, or scoffing, or giving any sign of mockery, Joel Miller inhaled quietly. "You know how much older I am than you?" he asked.

You nodded. "We're both adults, Joel. Besides," you felt a ghost of a smirk come to grace your lips, a feigned confidence coming to save you in this moment of truth. "I thought you told me to ask you these questions."

He sighed. "You're right."

"So? Will you?" you asked, with a small, "please?" coming out afterward.

He moved slowly, something you were equally thankful for as you were frustrated with, but his forehead met yours soon enough. His eyelashes brushed against your cheek, and he let out a shaky breath, letting it fan deliciously across your face. The knowledge that he was just as nervous as you were was not only a comfort; it was perhaps the most attractive thing you'd ever known.

And when you lifted your chin, just a hairsbreadth from his lips, your eyes fluttered closed, waiting for him to meet you in the middle. It only took a moment before he was closing his mouth over yours, and Joel Miller was kissing you.

He was gentle, of course, but there was something restrained about his kiss, the way he slowly slotted his lips over yours as if you might crack under any more pressure. It only made you want more, more, more...

You pressed your hands to his chest and curled them into fists, tugging his jacket to lessen the distance between your bodies even more. You didn't know how you were doing this, how you'd managed to find confidence in what could have easily been a humiliating experience. Your first kiss at twenty-five? With anyone else, it might have been a nightmare.

With Joel, it was turning out to be the most delightful dream.

"So soft, baby," he pulled back to whisper against your mouth. "These lips are so soft for me."

You hummed your response and pulled him back to you, letting him see that you wanted more. That incessant pressure was building, and it wasn't until he had his arms sliding around your waist that you forced yourself to pull back, head spinning. "Joel."

He blinked. "What? Too fast?" He shook his head. "I'm sorry, darlin', you're just so—"

"No, that's not it." You managed a weak smile, but the look in his eye, the question and the undeniable desire—is that what it looks like?—quivering in his brown irises, nearly made you collapse. He waited for you to continue, his hands never leaving you, a courtesy you were grateful for. "I feel...hot." Your cheeks warmed. "Um, there's this...pressure."

His lips closed in a tight smirk, and he squeezed your hips. "Where, baby?" he murmured, and you could have sworn you saw stars outlining his head at the sound of the pet name. "Show me," he cooed.

"Um." You paused, unsure of just how. But with his hands on your waist, his heavy, warm touch melting you on the spot, you took one of his gloved hands in yours and guided him to your stomach. "Here. Kind of."

"Yeah?" he said, and you forgot about the cold. About your horses waiting to be mounted, about your other responsibilities in Jackson. All you could see were his dark eyes that had somehow grown darker as you pushed his hand down, down, down...

"Fuck, babygirl," he cursed, and let his hand rest on the crux of your thighs, just barely pressing on the source of the tingling sensation. If anything, it made it worse, and you let a breathy whine fall from your lips. "You're gonna be the death of me, huh?" he groaned.

You couldn't form words. Just one kiss (a very good kiss, mind you) and a heavy hand on your core was all it took, apparently. You could hardly look anywhere but his face, your mouth dropping open as your hips moved of their own accord, grinding into his hand before you realized you were doing it. "Joel—" you whimpered, and he pulled his hand away.

There wasn't enough time for you to feel jilted, as he tugged you back to your horse and practically launched you onto it himself. "We're goin' back," he said firmly, "now."

Swallowing, your throat dry and rough, you pressed a hand to your cheek, feeling the heat swimming under your skin. "Did I do something wrong?"

You could hardly see him shake his head as he mounted his own horse, looking back at you to make sure you were following him. "'Course not," he called over his shoulder. When you caught up with him, the two of you shoulder-to-shoulder, he continued. "Look, darlin', f'I'm gonna be givin' you your first kiss and makin' you feel that good..." he sighed, his dark eyes finding yours. "I'm not doin' it in a fuckin' snowbank."

-- -- --

The entire ride back to Jackson was painfully long, silent but for Joel's mumbled directions, despite the fact that the two of you had taken this same route countless times in the four years that you patrolled together.

Your eyes were trained forward, and you knew his were as well, but it took everything in you not to glance at him even for a second. If you did, you were afraid that the pressure building in the crux of your thighs would never go away.

It would be unfair to say that you were completely unaware of what might happen when you got back to Jackson, but you still didn't know much, which left a nervous bubble rising in your gut. It wasn't like there were any books left in Jackson that you could read about it, or any movies that Maria would allow to remain in the community's borders.

Again, you got a wave of feeling like this should have concerned you, or at least made you a little anxious. But with Joel pulling ahead, his strong back the only thing you could look at, you felt the knot of tension release in your stomach. This was Joel. After four years—even four mostly silent years—of working together, you felt like you...knew him, somehow. That he couldn't possibly lead you astray.

Sure enough, when you were both within the borders, horses returned safely to their stables, the tension returned. Or had it ever really dissipated?

Joel hovered close to you as you left the stables. "Let's go, darlin'," he breathed, a gloved hand on your lower back as he guided you.

"Where?" you said, and you hoped it didn't sound as desperate as it did to you, the pressure getting worse. "I need—"

"I know, baby, I know," he cooed gently, his head on a swivel as if looking for anyone who might stop you. "We're goin' to mine. I've got the perfect lesson planned for ya, alright?"

It was all you could do to nod and let him push you forward through the snowy streets. If only those girls could see you now.

Once inside, you took a breath. There was no one around, and once the door closed behind you, the silence felt all the more heavy. "Ellie?" you asked, if only in courtesy.

He shook his head, and you bit your lip when you saw him smirk. "Just us, doll."

Joel shed his outer layers, and when he stood in front of you, you realized that this was the first time you'd seen him without his coat. Without his gloves, aside from that morning.

Your eyes snagged on his fingers, and you swallowed roughly when you saw the way they twitched, as if in anticipation for something. Or maybe he was holding himself back, you considered. His jaw did seem to have an impatient clench to it. Hands rough like you knew they would be, it didn't take long for your mind to wander into thinking of what it might be like to feel those hands on your skin.

With any luck, he'd give you the sweet release you craved, however it would unfold.

"See anything you like?" he teased, and your cheeks warmed.

"Sorry," you fumbled for a response, your eyes dropping. You'd meant to clear your head, but then your eyes were caught on his thighs. Specifically how hard the seams on his jeans were fighting to remain unripped. "Um, a lesson, you said?"

He nodded, reaching out a hand to take your own coat off, leaving you in the sweater and pants you'd had on all day. You were sure your hair was knotted and would be for days, but he only smoothed a hand down your face, letting you lean into his touch. His fingers were still cold, but your face was hot and it offered a dizzying sense of relief.

"I could never teach you all this," he murmured, his thumb rubbing back and forth in an absentminded swipe across your cheek. "Not without getting...distracted," he finished, pressing his other hand to your waist. Underneath the thick layer of your coat, his hand felt like a hot iron scorching your skin, despite there still being a few layers of clothes between your bodies.

"Distraction is okay," you breathed, lifting a hand to cup his on your waist. "Right?"

He shook his head, a chuckle lifting from deep in his chest. "Not tonight," he whispered. "Tonight, I want to stick to the plan."

"Which is?"

Wordlessly, he removed the hand on your waist and entwined it with your own, tugging you toward the living room where an old television had been placed on a rickety-looking shelf. "Sit," he directed, and you did so without hesitation. He paused, biting back a smile at your eager cooperation, and adjusted himself.

It occurred to you that as much as you were affected by him, he was experiencing a similar effect from you. His pants, already tighter than sin, seemed to have become even tighter, as a bulge began to grow while he stood just a few feet from your face.

"Joel—"

"No, no," he waved a dismissive hand and went to the television to grab something. He came back with something you recognized: a VHS tape. "Don't worry 'bout me, sweets. Tonight's just for you."

"We're gonna watch a movie?" you asked, trying to ignore the way your heart sank a little. You had been hoping that the two of you would kiss some more, and maybe even...you didn't even know the name for it.

"Not just any movie," he grinned, putting it in to watch. The video started. "A special one."

When the scene opened on a man and a woman in the throes of passion, you gasped. "No way," you whispered. "I thought Maria—"

He shrugged, sinking down on the couch beside you, his knee bumping yours. "She must've missed this one," was all he said.

The woman looked to be enjoying herself, as her scene partner kissed her neck, dragging his tongue from the dip in her clavicle to the curve of skin where her neck met her ear. A cartoon-ish moan left her lips, but you didn't pay it any mind. The sight of it made your thighs clench together subconsciously, the lick of pressure rising again in your center.

"Joel—"

"Shh," he said gently. "C'mere, darlin'." With no more than a heavy hand on your waist, he tugged you closer to him, situating you over his lap. "Comfortable?"

You almost said no; you knew that this wouldn't be an acceptable seating arrangement in the cafeteria (or anywhere public, for that matter), but when his hands landed on your thighs, you nodded swiftly. His fingers curled around your skin, and you could feel every pulse of his heartbeat through his fingertips, poised as if he might spread your legs from where they were squeezed together between his own thighs.

Something hard and solid nudged at your core, and you couldn't help it when you leaned back into his chest, head tilting back to rest on his shoulder. A breathy moan tumbled from your lips, and your stomach fluttered when you felt his chest rumble with a chuckle.

"That quick, baby?" he whispered, his breath fanning over your neck. "You really are a sweet young thing, aren't ya," he teased, pressing his nose to the joint between your jaw and your neck, "fallin' apart for me already?" He rocked his hips forward, his bulge pressing harder against you, and it nearly sent you into a spiral.

You swallowed, your throat dry. The sounds of the movie seemed far away as you opened your eyes and looked at his beard, peppered with gray and scratching at your chin when he leaned over you. "Joel," you whispered, bringing your hands to cover his own on your thighs, "I-I want to know everything." You'd never meant anything more fervently, more desperately, than this.

If you'd known how addicting this could feel, being so close to him, feeling his hands on you, perhaps you would have been embarrassed at the way your hips began rubbing yourself on his lap, hoping for—you didn't even know what could be after this. You just knew that the way you felt was the most intense thing you'd felt in your entire life, and you wanted to keep feeling this way, as long as you could.

Joel tutted, squeezing his hands on your thighs. "Oh, look at you," he groaned, a deep, carnal noise that made your chest constrict, "you're a natural, doll." His lips brushed your shoulder, and he darted his tongue out to lick a small strip up your neck.

Your heart swelled with the praise, and it was all you could do not to squeeze your eyes shut. "Please," you begged quietly, as if someone might hear you.

"I know, baby, I know," he crooned, dark eyes locked onto your own as his hand crept closer—to your waistband—closer—unzipping your pants—closer...there.

Your hips lifted from his lap with the heady sensation of his fingers pressed to a bundle of nerves between your legs. "Joel—!" you squeaked.

You felt him smile against your cheek. "So wet," he murmured, "so slick for my fingers, baby." He began rubbing that spot in tight circles, a slow, torturous pace. "Let me know when you're gonna come, yeah?"

"When I..." you trailed off. You'd never...how would you know? "I don't..."

Joel hummed in your ear, rocking his hips again and releasing a guttural groan. "S'okay, pretty girl," he reassured you, "I'll be gentle. Lemme know when it feels like it's too much. "I've gotcha."

You were too far gone to doubt him. This was Joel. He wouldn't let you fall, as much as you felt like you were going to slide to the floor at the feeling of his hand coming up from your leg to caress your breast, rolling a nipple between his fingertips. A strangled mix between a cry and a moan left your lips, and with one more kiss to your brow paired with a quick swipe of his finger over your ever-sensitive bud—

Something gave way and you jerked your head back, digging into his shoulder. Your legs spasmed and you squeezed your hand over Joel's, holding his hand in place underneath your panties.

"Fuck, doll, just like that," he encouraged you. "Look at you, eyes rollin' back for me. Shakin' like a good girl." His hips tensed beneath you and you felt his chest shudder as he released a punishing moan. "Got me feelin' like a damn teenager, comin' in my jeans."

His fingers stilled, but his hand didn't move. Your legs slowly stopped shaking, and the solid mass beneath you was softening. You let out a sigh, your eyelids fluttering closed. Your cheeks were flushed, you could tell; but this time, it wasn't embarrassment that brought the warmth to your face.

"You okay?" he murmured, carefully removing his hands from their places on you. "Feel alright, darlin'?"

Your head turned, nestling into the crook of his neck. Nodding quietly, you shifted in his lap. "I...I didn't know it could be like that," you shivered.

Joel paused the video, the living room falling quiet around you. Swinging a hand under your legs and tugging you to a more comfortable position over his lap, he raised his fingers to his lips, glistening with the remnants of your desire. Your jaw slackened when you watched him open his mouth, lapping at the tips of his fingers.

"Trust me, doll," he said with a glint in his eye. You whimpered in anticipation as he reached to brush a strand of hair from your face. "I've got so much more to teach you."

tysm for reading! you made it to the end! part two is in the works posted!

[ghostfacd]

YES I KNOW THAT HE’S MY EX! | TOM BLYTH

pairing. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

summary. you knew tom was your ex, and that you should probably stay away, but that’s never stopped you before

part 1 | installment of this au (please read for more context!)

ynuser :)

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user1 im loving the aesthetic

user2 THE BIKINI TOP IS SO CUTE

user3 put them toes awayyyy

rachelzegler i pay attention to things that most people ignore (this isn’t your car.)

➥ user4 PLEASE?? not rachel using yn’s own lyrics on her

➥ user5 IS THIS TOM’S CAR??

user6 i may be delulu but those r tom blyth’s mfing hands.

user7 he has her hair tie on; i repeat, tom blyth literally has yn’s hair tie on

When Tom had messaged you saying he wanted to talk, no matter how much you knew it was a bad idea, you decided to agree to it anyway.

The breakup had ended pretty badly. Although it was an agreement between you and Tom, that didn’t mean that’s what the both of you truly wanted.

The reason the two of you broke up in the first place was that Tom was talking too much about your future, which wasn’t a bad thing — but it overwhelmed you. You weren’t ready to settle down, not yet, at least. You and Tom had only been dating for a few months, and although it was all sweet and loving, you knew that getting engaged this early was like asking for a disaster to strike.

He was upset. Clearly. He loved you, you loved him, so why was it such an inconvenience for you to agree to take the leap in your relationship? That caused a blown out argument between you two, and by the end of it, you had agreed breaking up was the right thing.

You had a acting and music career to focus on, and Tom had an acting career that was just at the beginning of its success. You felt that it wasn’t right to put a distraction into his life.

“Is this a bad idea?” You ask breathlessly as you pull away from the kiss. You can’t help but stare into Tom’s eyes, which held a language of their own.

“Maybe,” he says, wiping the corner of your mouth. “But who cares?”

Who cares. Right. Well surely, it was a bad idea to meet up with your ex, much less kiss him, and although alarms were baring in your head that you probably shouldn’t—you go in for a second kiss, this time, Tom doesn’t let you go, cradling you close to his body.

“I don’t care if you don’t want to take the next step in our relationship, I’m fine if you’re not ready yet. I just want you, okay?”

And how could any girl possibly reject Tom Blyth when he’s begging so prettily? Certainly not you.

tomblyth and ynuser both posted an instagram story !

ynsbiggestfan THE GIRLS AND I AFTER SEEING THE STORIES ON INSTA

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user8 IM ACTUALLY DYING BC NO WAY WAS THAT A COINCIDENCE

user9 they’re connected they cant be far away from each other

user10 she’s my Heather 💔💔

➥ user12 fr i wish tom was that inlove w me

user13 so this is why rachel said that wasn’t yn’s car

➥ user14 ITS ALL MAKING SENSE NOW

sean.kauf photo dumpy

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ynuser pic creds ?? 🤬

➥ sean.kauf 🤓🤓

user15 wait im confused, is she together with tom again or is she with sean..

user16 Ykw i cant even be mad, if i was as hot as yn, i’d have two bfs too!

➥ user17 REAL SHIIT

tomblyth fun fact: the 2nd pic is sean third wheeling after forcing me and yn to speak to each other

➥ user17 TOM CONFIRMED IT IM DEAD

user18 all the yn haters must feel stupid asf rn after accusing yn of being with sean

➥ user19 literally cause all 3 of them are literally close 😭😭 like why would sean date yn, he’s literally friends with tom

user20 if yn isn’t dating sean let me have him omg

ynuser yes i know that he’s my ex but can’t two people reconnect !!!!!

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user21 this took the cake.

user22 time to cry again bc tom blyth is off the market

user23 she got him wrapped around her finger FR

user24 THE THIRD PIC OF THEM 🥹🥹

user25 THE CAPTION OUUU GIRLY IS BRAVE

tomblyth i only see you as a friend (the biggest lie i’ve ever said)

➥ user26 I CHOKED

➥ user27 THEIR SOCIAL MEDIA MANAGERS ARE CRYING RN

[sweetiecutie]

Warnings: none, König is afraid of women lol, pure fluff, König being all over you <3

Loser!Metalhead!König whom you met through a shared friend at the small party. It’s not even a party as such - about ten young people gathered with food and drinks, light music playing softly on the background as everyone chatted and laughed. Your eyes fell upon tall dark figure in the corner - a giant of a man was sitting silently, listening to a conversation his other two friends were having, adding to it time to time.

Loser!Metalhead!König who is silent, aloof and even intimidating, with his long hair and black band t-shirts with skulls and chains and scary looking letters. You think he doesn’t like you first time you approach him, just nodding curtly at whatever you have to say, occasionally giving the shortest, driest responses. But, strangely, you don’t feel any hostility coming from him, his presence open and welcoming, even despite his detached and even awkward demeanour.

Loser!Metalhead!König who actually freaks the fuck out when a pretty little thing like yourself comes up to talk to him. He’s struck, not knowing what to do or what to say, his fear of women, especially as gorgeous and beautiful as you, showing up on its fullest. Being more of a listener naturally he just lets you ramble his ear off, taking in your every word even if it looks like he doesn’t care much about what you have to say.

Loser!Metalhead!König who is drastically different from you. You, with your pretty pink crop top and baby blue jeans, white ribbons adorning your hair and glossed plump lips curving so gorgeously in a smile, are a complete opposite to König - huge burly body clad in all black and heavy chains, thick forearms and bulging biceps, thick eyebrows knitted together, a frown that seems to be permanent is tainting his sharp features.

Loser!Metalhead!König who can’t get you out of his head, memories of you flooding his brain for the next few weeks. You just struck him like lightning - your syrupy voice, gentle eyes gazing up at him as you told him some silly story from your childhood - in the dead of night König’s mind unmistakably wandered back to them, getting lost in your orbs all over again, broad chest filling with warm buzz.

Loser!Metalhead!König whom you meet weeks later in a city centre, accidentally running into him on your way back home from running errands. Your eyes light up upon recognising your new acquaintance, lips stretching in a wide smile and König feels as if all the air is being punched out of his chest. You greet him heartily, asking how he’s been and what he’s up to currently. And König, shocking himself even, grasps the opportunity, asking if you’d like to go grab some coffee because he’s dying for one right now (read as: I’m so painfully into you I’ll use any excuse to be around you). And you happily agree, leading him to that one coffee shop you love, which serves the most delicious chocolate cake he’ll ever have.

Loser!Metalhead!König who spends the rest of the day with you, first in the coffee shop and then going for a walk around the centre of Vienna, just talking about everything. Your bubbly and easygoing personality eases him out of his shell, making him talk more freely about his interests and hobbies, his chest tightening proudly upon seeing your amazed expression as he told you of his passion for playing guitars and drums, promising to teach you how to play a few chords in a future.

Loser!Metalhead!König who happily exchanges instas with you (his pictureless profile with 4 followers and name like kng69 lmao) scrolling in awe through all the photos you have there, littering your phone with repeated notifications of new like on your post. He’s sad when he notices the time, you telling him that you have to go home now, his ears perking up at your upset tone, meaning that you don’t want this day to end just as much as König does. He waits for your taxi to arrive, making sure you get in the right car, wishing you a safe ride home.

Loser!Metalhead!König who texts you on ig an hour later, asking if you got home safe. That message makes you smile stupidly at your phone as you reassure him that you’re all safe and sound at your place, adding that you enjoyed today and would like to meet up with König again someday. Now he’s the one grinning at his phone, pale blush dusting his high cheekbones as he lays sleepless in his bed, head full of buzzing thoughts and every single one of them is painfully full of you<3

A/n: might write part 2 of that, lmk if you’d like it🤭

[beomiracles]

⌞ 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘'𝐒 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ⌝

DREAM RECALL “You know what I think of you?” He says, the bed squeaking as he leans forward, dangerously close. “I think you’re scared.” He drawls, eyes boring into your own with such vigor that you almost felt pity for the anger that consumed him. How miserable he must be to live like that. — “I’m not scared.” You calmly state, shifting against the pillows as you instinctively try to create distance between the two of you. Quickly taking note of your hesitant body language, he smirks, “no? Then prove it.”

“Prove that you’re not afraid of the darkness, of my darkness.”

wc -> 17k (oopsie daises)

pairings stepbrother!beomgyu x stepsister!reader warnings stepcest, daddy issues, some mommy issues, character death, emo/punk!beomgyu + he has an eyebrow piercing, major asshole!beomgyu, mentions of alcoholism, lots of arguing, angsty as shit but with a happy ending, talks of grief and letting go, smut (again, stepcest), virgin!reader, loss of virginity, softdom!gyu but he's also a menace, guilt ridden sex, unprotected + pullout, handjob + vaginal fingering, some cum eating, use of "sis" both outside and during the smut (I cannot stress this enough), might be teetering on the edge of dubious consent at some points but nothing crazy. dead dove do not eat

#serene adds ✎ I have no clue of how this happened lol. PLEASE read every single warning I am begging you. don't read this if as much as one single tag made you waver. ⎯ aside from like the fact that it's stepcest, I fucking love this whole fic. I'm so proud of it and I would actually cry if someone (who got through it) would be up to share some thoughts :>

“There’s still time to turn back..” You mutter as you lean against the leather of the passenger seat. Listening to the bustling engine slowly dying out as the car comes to a stop. “Come on princess, don’t be like that.” Your dad sighs as he retrieves the key, turning it between his fingers. “You knew that this move was coming and-“ — “Yeah, I did. But not this soon, not now.” You argue, folding your arms across your chest in defiance. “You could’ve at least waited until I was out of college, until I had gotten my own place.” 

More than anything you wished to be able to change your father’s mind, to turn things back to how they were before he met Ms Choi. But that was of course impossible, and now you were paying the price for not getting a room on campus. “But look on the bright side, it’s a mere fifteen minute drive to school, and Beomgyu has his license, I’m sure he could take you someday.” Your dad tries, a small smile on his face. — You grimaced at the name, your chest churning in disgust at the mere thought of sharing a car with that thing. 

A tap to your window makes you turn your head in its direction. There stood Ms Choi, she sends you a small wave and before you know it, your father had climbed out of the vehicle, leaving you to sulk. Their voices are muffled through the thick glass but you can see them enveloping each other in a tender hug, your dad leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. With a small grimace your gaze flickers to the small bracelet around your wrist, its fine silver glinting in the sun and your chest contracts slightly. You supposed you should feel happy for him, it had been a long time since you’d last seen your father so at ease, so in love.  

And it wasn’t like you didn’t like his new girlfriend, no you were quite fond of Ms Choi. She was nice, often bringing freshly baked cookies whenever she came over, remembering your favorite foods as she made them when you visited. Most importantly she made your dad feel things he hadn’t felt since the passing of your mother. — You just couldn’t understand how such a sweet woman had managed to raise such a being of a son. 

Beomgyu was far from anything his mother represented. He was loud, obnoxiously so, his foul mouth going off every other second, spewing his hatred for the world and the people in it. Beomgyu listened to deranged music, the kind that made your ears bleed. He blamed his father for all his problems, not to mention taking his pent up anger out on his sweet mom. — The black charcoal around his eyes represented that of the rotting darkness slowly eating away at his soul, and you wondered if Beomgyu had always been angry. Perhaps he came out like that, you were almost certain that he was a menace even as a small baby. 

You had been to Ms Choi’s house a handful of times. It was a small two story flat, neatly decorated in light and inviting shades and smelled of roses. Had it not been for the first room to the right on the second floor, you would’ve probably loved it there. — The small hallway is familiar as you stumble inside, a heavy suitcase clutched tightly in your grasp. “Oh dear, let me help you with that”, Ms Choi fusses as she reaches for your bag but you merely shake your head, “I’m fine miss, don’t worry”, you assure her. 

She turns to your dad who was carrying at least twice your baggage as he walked up the dainty pathway leading to the house. “Beomgyu ought to come down and be of some assistance”, she murmurs as she throws a glance over her shoulder, her eyes traveling up the staircase by the end of the hall. — “I’m sure we’ll be fine!” You quickly chirp, dreading the thought of having to deal with him so soon. But there was no changing Ms Choi’s mind as she immediately calls out for her nuisance of a son. 

You swallow thickly as an eerie silence follows, your dads girlfriend huffs out a short breath as she fiddles with the jewelry around her neck. “Beomgyu! Come down here!” The nervous edge to her voice was palpable and part of you took pity on the sweet lady for being stuck with such a being in her house, no less as her biological child. 

Soon the floorboards above you creak, the old house immediately giving away the presence of someone else on the top floor. You tried tearing your gaze from the stairs, but it seemed impossible as Beomgyu’s figure emerged. His step is heavy as he drags his feet across the floor, his hair had grown longer since last you’d seen him, and that was over four months ago. You often did your best in avoiding him, thus leading the two of you to meeting less than a dozen times during the two years in which your parents had been pursuing one another. Well to hell with that plan now, you thought. 

“Hi darling, why don’t you say hi to-” — “I know who she is.” He cuts her off, sparing you a mere side glance before his gaze shifts to your dad struggling with the suitcases, a look of distaste on his face. “A-Alright”, Ms Choi clears her throat as she motions toward your father, “why don’t you help bring their stuff inside.” She receives only a small huff from her son as Beomgyu pushes past the two of you to venture outside. You don’t miss the flicker of disappointment on his mother’s face. No matter what he did, she would always cherish and protect him. You couldn’t understand why. — She turns to you with an apologetic smile, “your room is down the hall to the right.” 

The stairs felt eternal as you pulled your suitcase up, intent on not needing any extra hands. And when you finally reach flat ground, you heave a sigh. Though the comforting peace was short-lived as the thumping beat of a heavy bass filled your eardrums, the sound overpowering that of the wheels on your suitcase as you rolled it along the wooden floor. With a frown you near the first door, it was slightly ajar, allowing for the ear piercing music to float out into the small corridor. Already familiar with the layout of the house, you recognized the room as Beomgyu’s, and as the owner in question was currently downstairs, you dared a small peek. 

You can’t remember actually being inside his room, merely passing it in search for the bathroom as the first floor lacked one. And it was unlike anything the rest of the house represented. It was messy and crammed. The once cream white walls were covered in a variety of posters portraying his favorite bands, one of which you guessed to currently be playing through the large speakers by his desk. — His bed looked as if it hadn’t been made in weeks, possibly months and he seemed to be making good use of his floor as an alternate wardrobe. His computer was on as well, the bright light of the screen catching your attention in the otherwise dim room as the curtains drawn prevented much sunlight from reaching through. 

Upon closer inspection your eyes widen as you realize what kind of video was playing. The almost naked woman in the footage emits a pornographic moan and your jaw slacks as you take a couple of steps back in complete disbelief. — The room was like a tainted mark left on an otherwise clean canvas. The black lungs of a smoker, rotten and decaying. The only flaw in an otherwise picture perfect home, and you would’ve probably pitied the poor soul living here had it not been Choi Beomgyu. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

The raspy voice sends a shiver down your spine as you twist on the spot, coming face to face with the inhabitant of the room you’d invaded. Beomgyu lingers in the doorway, your discarded suitcase lazily kicked to the side as his brows furrow, the glinting metal on one of them catching your eye, had he always had that piercing? — You gulp, fists clenching before relaxing again. 

“I uh…I was.. I was looking for my room..” The excuse was petty, and you knew he could tell by the way his lips pulled into a small grimace. “Well this certainly isn’t it.” He spits, taking a charging step forward and you feel yourself immediately faltering back against his desk. — “Out.” He grits, and you could’ve sworn you heard the way his teeth ground together as his jaw flexed.

Not having to be told twice, you quickly slip out of the room, the door being slammed shut on your ass in a mere second. “What a dick”, you mutter, though you supposed it was somewhat deserved as you went in his room without permission. — Your own bedroom, on the other hand, matched the rest of the house. It was small, barely fitting your bed and a study desk, but the window gazing out over the front yard was remarkable. Your fingers graze along the lace curtains as you think of the multiple ways in which you’d be able to decorate the tiny space. Perhaps living here could become somewhat bearable, you thought. 

⸝⸝

No. You quickly found that it would become most unbearable to thrive under this roof. Dinner was awkward. As awkward as it could possibly get. The air was dense, laying on top of your table like a thick blanket, enveloping your party of four in a stale silence. The sounds of silverware scraping against porcelain plates fill the dainty dining room. Every bite felt like a piece of rock sliding down your throat and no matter how hard you trained your gaze to the cut piece of meat in front of you, Beomgyu’s eyes felt like daggers on your skin. Was he still mad about earlier? 

“So, Beomgyu, I hear you’re about to start your senior year as well.” Your father clears his throat, turning to the younger male with a small smile. Beomgyu’s gaze finally shifts away from your near sweating figure and over to your dad as he sends him an almost unnoticeable nod. The statement made your eyebrows raise in surprise, he was a year older than you, shouldn’t he have graduated before summer? — Beomgyu answers your unspoken question in a bored sigh, “failed my last year.” 

“Oh but he’s worked hard to be able to retake his classes this upcoming semester!” His mother suddenly butts in as she places a hand on top of your father’s. You watch their small exchange before your eyes flit over to Beomgyu who looked almost disgusted at the close proximity your parents held. Of course he would be against it, you wondered if there was anything that didn’t make his nose scrunch up in disdain. 

“Then perhaps the two of you can study together?” Ms Choi suddenly exclaims as she looks to you with an expression best described as hopeful. “Your father tells me you do well in school.” — “Of course, my princess is in the top of her class”, your dad boasts as he flashes you a small grin. You sheepishly nod, cheeks reddening at the sudden attention directed your way. “Why, isn’t that an amazing idea, Beom?” His mother cheers to which her son grimaces, “wonderful.” 

You didn’t like Beomgyu. And you thought you had every reason not to. You had never met someone so completely disregarding of other people’s feelings. Someone so selfish and arrogant, someone who took so much for granted. Like his mom. — You supposed you envied him a little. Ms Choi was such a wonderful person, not to mention an amazing mother. You often found yourself reminiscing of what you’d lost when in her presence. But Beomgyu seemed to hold little affection for something you longed so desperately to have. — You remember the evening clearly, the first night you met, two years ago. 

Dinner was awkward even back then. 

You’re sat gathered around the very same table, in the very same seats. Back then you had a small crush on him, on Beomgyu. How could you not? He was everything you weren’t, everything you thought you wanted to be. The expressive t-shirt he wore, a band you didn’t recognize, but you guessed it to be some type of rock. His slightly baggy jeans, decorated with a few simple chains. Dark hair, though it was shorter back then, and of course, the liner around his eyes. It was impossible not to be drawn to him. But he didn’t look at you, not once. 

You helped your dad clear the table whilst Beomgyu accompanied his mom in the kitchen as she prepared dessert. “What do you think of her?” Your father asks with a hopeful smile. You knew that he was nervous about introducing someone new to you, and Ms Choi would be the first woman he’d seen since your mother’s passing. You weren’t oblivious to the fact that your approval weighed like a ton of bricks on your dads shoulders, and you didn’t want to let him down. 

“She seems sweet.” 

He sighs, a relieved sigh. “Do you like her?” You ask, unable to hide the small frown on your face. Your father remains silent for a moment, his hands busying themselves with stacking the plates on top of one another. “I do”, he nods, his face immediately lighting up as he sees your small smile. But before you get another word out, the voice of Ms Choi pierces the quaint house. 

Neither of you move, but the conversation between Beomgyu and his mother was no longer private. “Well if that’s how you really feel, then perhaps you’ll find your father’s place a more suitable living space.” Ms Choi exclaims, her voice is thick, as if on the verge of breaking at any given moment. A brief silence follows her words, and you hold your breath.

“That piece of shit lowlife?” Beomgyu suddenly seethes and his mom quickly interrupts him. “Don’t call him that.” She sounds almost pleading. — Her son chuckles and if you had been able to see him, you would guess that he was shaking his head. “You still let him get away with all the shit he’s done?” — “Oh come on, you know it’s not like that, Beom..” 

“He’s an asshole, mom.” Beomgyu finally states, his voice holds no resentment, in fact it barely holds any emotion at all. “And you, you’re both naive and stupid for thinking he’s anything else.” — Then he re-emerges from the kitchen, not sparing either you or your father as much as a second glance as he heads for the front door, it slams shut behind him, leaving the faint sobs of Ms Choi to echo through the small house. 

Your dad rushes to the kitchen, but you remain frozen in place. His small whispers of reassurance carry out into the dining room as he tries to comfort the crying mess that was his girlfriend. Your eyes flit between the small opening to the kitchen and the hallway; feeling more than conflicted as you gnaw on your bottom lip.

After a few moments of hesitation, you finally come to a decision as you tear yourself from your spot by the since long vacant table. Quietly, you retrace Beomgyu’s last steps and you, too, push the heavy door open. — The cold night air hits your bare arms making you wrap them around yourself as you begin walking down the gravel pathway. You really had no idea of where he might’ve gone, or how you were even supposed to find him. But as you push the squeaking fence gate open, you know that you won’t have to look far. 

Perched on the sidewalk, knees tucked to his chest, Beomgyu leans his chin on top of his folded arms. Drawing in a small breath, you muster up the courage to do what you had come out here for. — He doesn’t say anything as you take a seat beside him, mimicking his actions by pulling your knees to your chest as you wrap your arms around them. You weren’t exactly good at comforting people, but you knew what sadness felt like, it was all you had been able to feel for three months after your mother’s death. 

“You here to fuckin’ lecture me too?” He spits, his gaze is fixed on the asphalt road in front of him. Perhaps Beomgyu’s sadness was different from yours. You shake your head, though you’re unsure if he can even see it. And for a moment, everything is silent. There was a nervous feeling bubbling within your chest, you didn’t know if it was because of your small crush on him or because of the argument you just witnessed between him and his mom. The argument sounded stupid in your ears, and it got you wondering.. 

“Why do you hate your father?” Your words ring out in the quiet night air, and somewhere to your left, you feel Beomgyu shift against the concrete sidewalk. You guess he hadn’t expected the question. — “‘Cause he’s a piece of shit.” He huffs, though his voice lacks the spite it held when in discussion with his mom. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you frown. “But he’s still your father, isn’t he?” 

Beomgyu might as well have laughed in your face. He shakes his head, one of his hands ruffling through his dark hair before he lets it fall to his side. “That changes nothing”, he states. You were tempted to disagree, it changed everything, didn’t it? To hate someone, to hate someone so close to you, someone so important.. You don’t think you could ever hate your father. 

“Have you tried talking to him?” Perhaps it was a stupid proposal, but in truth, you were at loss for ideas. Beomgyu snorts, his worn out sneakers kicking a few small rocks as he lets them roll out across the street. “You can’t talk to someone like him, and even if I could, I would have nothing to say to him.” — He draws in a sharp breath, holding it for a good moment before he slowly lets it go. “Some people..” he begins, his fingers picking at a few strands of vegetation that had managed to seep through the cracks of the constructed road. “Some people don’t deserve to have kids, some people shouldn’t have them.” 

You’re silent after that, unsure of what to say. He was right, some people were not meant to be parents. You wondered what his dad could have possibly done to warrant such hatred from his only son. It felt wrong to pry, so you didn’t. He would tell you one day, when he was ready, at least you thought so. — “But your mom is–” 

“My mom is stupid.” He spits, his expression suddenly turning sour. You didn't like how Beomgyu spoke about his mother, or how he spoke to her. “She doesn’t understand how fucked up dad is, and she still defends him despite everything he’s done.” — He bites the inside of his cheek, his brows furrowing together as his gaze remains ahead. “She’s truly pathetic.” 

Your chest churned at the statement. And perhaps your relationship with Beomgyu would’ve turned out different, had you not said your next words. But you couldn’t help it, and you didn’t regret it either. “At least you have a mother.” It angered you. It angered you that he treated people so close to him with such hatred. Did he not understand? Not everyone had the privilege of seeing their mom everyday, not everyone got to feel her warm embrace, eat her food, have her kiss your cheek. 

Beomgyu’s hatred was selfish. He was selfish. Because you would have done anything to see your mother one last time. — He turns to you, and for the first time that night, he looks at you. “And that makes you so special?” His gaze narrows down on you, the dark liner around his eyes only makes his expression look twice as gloomy. “You think you’re the only one who’s life is shit just because your mom went and died?” 

His words stung, like salt on a fresh wound, slowly being rubbed in. You fight back the tears that were prickling in the corners of your eyes. You just wanted to help. But you were obviously not very good at comforting people, still, you thought that he might’ve been at least a little understanding. How idiotic of you. Beomgyu rises to his feet, giving the gravel beneath him one final kick as it flies everywhere. 

“Don’t think you know the first thing about me just because you’ve heard me and my mom argue once.” His expression darkens even further in the pale night, and you swallow a small sob. “And don’t for a second think that we have anything in common, or that you have the right to talk to me like that.” He snaps, hands digging into the denim of his jeans, the chains on them rattling as he does. 

“It’s not my fault your mommy died, but let me give you a piece of advice yeah?” He leans down, his face inches from your own and you resist the urge to pull back, instead blinking up at him as a nasty sneer casts over his features. “Get over it.” 

With that, he straightens himself back up, letting out a small scoff as he turns on his heel before venturing down the street. — Beomgyu didn’t come back home that night, Ms Choi told you so, you didn’t know where he went, you didn’t care. From that point on, you hated Choi Beomgyu, you hated everything that was him, everything that reminded you of him. But most of all, you hated anything that made you feel like he had made you feel that night; the night he’d left you on the street to sob in your hands. 

⸝⸝

Your first official night under Ms Choi’s roof felt weird, it didn’t feel at all like home, maybe because it wasn’t, or maybe because you laid in bed with the knowledge that Beomgyu was only a room away. — It was dark, the soft glow of the moon seeping through your lace curtains. You had yet to fully unpack, your small night lamp long forgotten about in one of the boxes downstairs. The room smelled weird too, it didn’t smell like home, like mom. 

Despite it being years since she passed you often found resolve in venturing inside your parents room, the room that smelled the most of her. How you would let the tips of your fingers trail across the smooth bed sheets as you imagined her sleeping form. — The first months after her passing you even found yourself going through her old clothes, trying to keep anything that carried her scent close. But even the house itself held her presence, her laughter echoing off the walls, her soft hum as she prepared dinner, her cheerful voice as she skipped down the stairs. 

This house did not hold a single trace of your mother, she was truly gone. Your dad had moved on, he had fallen in love, he’d stopped being miserable, he no longer cried for his deceased wife in the darkest hours of night. Did that make him a bad person? You wanted to hate him for leaving your mom behind, even though she was technically the one who had left you. You wanted to tell him that he should never love a woman that wasn’t her. But you couldn’t. And you wouldn’t. — Your father was happy now. 

Perhaps Beomgyu had been right that night. Perhaps you should get over it. Perhaps you should’ve gotten over it a long time ago. But you didn’t want to, because getting over it meant letting go, letting go of your mom, and you didn’t want that. She was your mom.

Your fingers instinctively reach for the bracelet around your wrist, fiddling with the silver anxiously. This was your last piece of her, your last line, the string that still connected you to her. — You treasured it dearly yet you couldn’t but feel almost melancholic whenever you turned the jewelry around in your hands, an immense wave of sadness washing over you as the small piece kept reminding you of what you’d lost. 

You shake the tears away, sitting up as you lean against the bed frame. You wouldn’t cry tonight, you wouldn’t allow that. Instead your mind wanders down the hall, down to the room on your left. You wondered what Beomgyu was up to, was he already asleep? Maybe he was feeling restless too.. “What the fuck”, you scoff, shaking your head at the glimpse of sincerity you cast his way. Having already gone through with that mistake once, you would be sure to not make it again. Beomgyu didn’t deserve your sympathy. 

He didn’t deserve anything. 

⸝⸝

The following weeks went by in almost a blur. Your dad and you got settled in quickly, and with the help of Ms Choi, you now had a wildflower blooming by the sill of your window. Not to mention the pink rug you had so carefully picked out as you laid it in the center of your room. — But happiest was probably your father. It was sweet, seeing how giddy he got whenever the new woman in his life was around, you liked watching him fall in love. And without you even realizing it, the small house soon began to feel like home. 

Even you and Beomgyu got along fine, if getting along was what you could call it. You had silently conducted a small routine which was to be strictly followed by the two of you. It helped ensure that you wouldn’t have to run into one another more than absolutely necessary. — First, you always used the bathroom at seven. He was never up by then and you enjoyed having free access to both the shower and toilet as you took your time getting ready for the day. 

Second, your rooms were strictly prohibited areas, under no circumstances were you allowed to step foot inside his personal space, nor was he to do so in yours. That didn’t change the fact that he would continuously blast his ear screeching music so loud that the floorboards thumped in rhythm to the beat. Nor did it change the way you threw your hairbrush against the wall in an attempt to get him to shut up, not that it ever proved successful. 

Third, and perhaps the most important one; you did not know each other outside of home. Senior year in college started about two weeks ago, and within the four confined walls of the school building, you and Beomgyu were nothing but mere strangers. Not that the same couldn’t be said for the way you treated each other back at home. Which leads you on to another unspoken rule, the rule that made your parents believe that you got along just fine. 

You think it was said last rule that made everything come crumbling down one October night. 

“A whole week?” You splutter, your fork slipping from your grasp and hitting the porcelain plate in front of you. Ms Choi makes a small grimace at your blunt shock but quickly masks it with a smile, “yes, me and your father were thinking..” — “Come on princess”, your dad interrupts, leaning forward ever so slightly. “You’re more than old enough to sit the house for a week, besides, we’ve been meaning to get some alone time.” He sends you a look that practically screams, “don’t fuck this up for me, alright?” 

With a small groan you nod, “yeah it’s alright I suppose.” But it wasn’t, in fact it was far from it. This meant that you would have to spend a full seven days, locked up in the same house as Beomgyu, with no one to save you. “Is this what people call dark humor?” You mutter, though not loud enough for anyone to pick up on, at least you thought they couldn’t. Opposite you, Beomgyu’s lip twitches as his tongue prods against the inside of his cheek, his fingers playing with the rings on his hands; clearly not oblivious to your small comment. 

“I’m sure they’ll be fine”, Ms Choi adds in a most lighthearted tone. Your dad slowly nods as his gaze flits between you and Beomgyu, watching as you both turned to shoot him a small smile. 

⸝⸝

“And don’t forget to lock the door, oh and I’ve written down all the emergency numbers on a piece of paper plastered on the fridge, and there’s–” — “Dad, I’m fine.” You take his hands in yours, giving them a light squeeze and your father grins, “right, sorry princess.” He throws a quick glance over his shoulder to where Ms Choi was waiting by the car, having already shared a most quick farwell with her son. 

“Go, I’ll be okay”, you sigh as you urge him toward the door. “Alright, alright, just promise to call if anything happens.” He pleads as he ruffles your already disheveled hair due to the amount of hugs he had insisted on. You give him an affirmative nod as he steps out. “Love you, princess!” Is the last thing he gets out before you close the front door in his face, worried that you might never have him leave if you didn’t. The hallway quickly becomes enveloped in a near deafening silence, the emptiness of the house palpable. But the short-lived peace would soon be disrupted. 

“Fuck, are you fourteen or twenty?” Beomgyu jeers as he leans against the doorframe leading into the living room, arms folded across his torso. He’s dressed in a pair of loose jeans that hung low on his waist, and had it not been for the even baggier t-shirt thrown on his chest, you would’ve probably caught more than a glimpse of his stomach. The piece of jewelry on his eyebrow glints in the faint morning light as he sends you a small frown. 

It was too early for any of his snarky remarks, you thought as you swallowed a deep breath. Just ignore him, don’t bite back, that’s what he wants. But as you watch his conceding smirk practically double in size at your silence, you find yourself unable to hold back. “Well at least I talk to him.” It was a low blow, and you knew it. You didn’t care, for the way his face dropped, if only for a brief moment, made it all worth it. 

Beomgyu was quick to hide his initial surprise as he shifted against the doorframe, his dark eyes narrowing down on you. “It’s hardly like you’ve got anyone else to confide in”, he drawls, and you bite the inside of your cheek at his subtle acknowledgement of the lunches you spent alone in the school cafeteria. Your fists clench, your anger on the verge of slipping past the weakening brims of your control. 

“You think you’re so much better, huh?” Your angered huff is met by a low chuckle but before he gets a reply out, you cut him off. “I’m not the one retaking a whole year of college, I mean, I knew you were stupid, but this exceeds any of my previous assumptions.” The words slipped from your lips without you being able to stop them, and it felt good, really good. Beomgyu’s jaw visibly clenches at the insult thrown his way, the arms over his chest flexing as his body tensed. 

Feeling almost high off of the harsh remarks, you continue. “Let’s not even bring up your mom. You can barely look her in the eyes, you treat her like absolute shit, and at your grown age too.” — It’s his turn to flare up now, his previously stunned expression immediately morphing into a scowl as he charges forward. “Don’t you fucking dare talk about her in front of me.” He seethes, teeth grinding against each other as he reaches you, his fingers wrapping around the collar of your blouse as he shoves you against the wall with a thud. 

For the two years in which you had known Beomgyu, sorry, been acquainted with, you don’t think the two of you had ever as much as even shook hands, much less hugged. But now his face was only inches from yours, burning with so much rage that you thought you might just combust into a pile of ashes on the floor. His chest heaves, and his grip on your shirt is near deadly as he yanks the fabric up, his taller frame looming over your own. 

You scoff, trying to mask the unease that immediately surged within your chest at his close proximity. “See? Can’t even bring your mom up without you throwing a hissy fit", you jeer. — The scowl once on his lips, slowly turns into a sneer, a sly look emerging on his face, like you had just said exactly what he needed to hear, given him the opportunity he’d been searching for. 

His breath is warm on your already hot body as he speaks. “Well it’s not exactly like you’re any better.” You catch his tongue dragging across his bottom lip, as if savouring the moment, his eyes focused solely on the way your once stoic expression fell. “Can’t even mention her without you bursting out into tears.” — You open your mouth to object, your brows furrowing at the accusation but he’s quicker, shamelessly cutting you off to get his point across. “There’s no use in denying it. Don’t you think I’ve heard you? Crying in your room late at night, crying for your dead mommy.”

His gaze snaps to your wrist, hand darting out to grab ahold of it as his thumb slides across the bracelet resting there. “And this? A souvenir of her death? That’s pathetic.” He cocks his head to the side, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. “It’s like a child sleeping with stuffed toys”, he sneers, letting go of you with a small grimace before his grip returns to the collar of your shirt. 

You hated the way your teary eyes almost immediately gave you away, and you fervently tried to blink them away; much to no avail as Beomgyu chuckled. “Did I hit a nerve?” He wonders, voice laced with fabricated pity. It made you sick to your stomach. — “Sorry, princess”, he coos, but nothing about the way he gripped onto your flimsy blouse made for a convincing apology. Your eyes narrow at the familiar nickname and his smirk only widens. “Isn’t that what your daddy would say? Princess?” 

Hearing the name you treasured so dearly coming from his mouth, the word tainted with his hatred and evil, it made you bite the inside of your lip, hard. “What? Don’t like it?” He hums, his fingers on your shirt loosening, if only slightly as he leans even closer. It was easy to make out the details of his face now, the piercing stuck through the skin of his eyebrow, the area slightly red, as if irritated. The dark charcoal around his eyes, you wondered if he slept in it, probably. You will your gaze to stay locked with his, not daring to glance down at his lips. 

“Then what should I call you? Sis? Sister? Little Sister?” He looks almost as if he’s about to burst into laughter and you wanted nothing more than to slap that disgusting smirk from his face. “I’m not your sister.” You state, refusing to ever be perceived in such a way. — Beomgyu let’s his head fall to the side, his brows raising in a flicker of surprise. “But we’re family now, aren’t we?” 

You close your eyes, thinking that maybe if you just pretended that he wasn’t there for an extended period of time, he might actually disappear. But once you reopen them, you find him still watching you, his smirk stretched so wide that he almost appeared uncanny. “You don’t know the first thing about what makes a family.” You let your words linger in the now very thick air, watching with an almost gleeful expression as Beomgyu lets out a small scoff, though leaning back as he lets go of your shirt. 

“Quit trying to act like you’ve got me all figured out.” Is all he says, his voice now eerily calm, a kind of calm that makes your blood run cold. — “Then quit acting like such a terrible person, and maybe people would start seeing you for something else.” You mutter, your words not intended for his ears to catch, but they do. His gaze flickers over your body, pressed against the wall in an attempt to create as much space between the two of you as humanly possible. 

He shakes his head, his lip twitching as he runs a hand through his long hair. “How about you quit trying to act like you know what makes a terrible person.” — His words leave you silenced long enough for him to make his escape as he heads for the staircase. The last thing you see is his dark retreating figure, the sound of him trudging up the steps filling the house. You slump against the wall, letting out a shaky exhale as you let your eyes fall closed, already dreading the week ahead. 

⸝⸝

To your surprise, day one and two went by like usual, with the absence of your father and Ms Choi of course. You and Beomgyu managed to avoid one another just like normal, and whilst you ate dinner downstairs, he always brought his food to his room. Sometimes it was almost as if you were living alone, you had the whole house pretty much to yourself and you often took the opportunity to lounge by the sofa in the living room. 

After your fight two days ago, part of you had thought that things might worsen even further between the two of you. But if anything, you’d seen even less of him than you usually would and you think you could count the interactions you’d shared with him on your fingers. 

Your whole body feels heavy as your head hits the pillow that night. Four more days, you tell yourself. You could do four more days. All you had to do was keep up the role you’d been playing for the past three days. 

And as you lay in bed, you let your thoughts wander, wander to your dad. The two of you engaged in shorter calls every evening. It was a nice distraction from your otherwise plaguing reality. Your father told you about the beach, the ocean and the seashells; he and Ms Choi were staying at a hotel by the seaside for the week, and you felt your heart swell at the excitement in his voice. 

“You’ll have to come with us next time!” He exclaimed, the powerful winds surrounding him made his words come out jagged on the other end of the line. Still, you thought you were able to make out the faint sounds of waves crashing against the shore as he walked along the water. — “I’d be happy to”, you agree, a small grin playing on your lips at the thought of going on vacation with your dad again, it had been so long. 

Soon Ms Choi joins your conversation, you hear them share a quick kiss before her tender voice addresses you. “How’s Beomgyu doing dear?” She wonders and your smile immediately falters at the mention of his name. You bite your lip, unsure of what to say, did she not talk to him, not at all, not once? — In the end, you settle for something for half a lie and half a truth. “He’s doing fine.” 

Your dads girlfriend exhales on the other line as she thanks you. “Are you two getting along well?” Your father asks, a hint of suspicion following his inquiry. Even though Ms Choi was quick to defend her son, your dad still seemed to hold back when it came to him, if only slightly. “We’re doing just fine.” You lied, not wanting to address just how awkward things were and how you most definitely wanted them to return home as soon as possible. You wouldn’t ruin your dads shot at happiness just to soothe your own worries. 

But as night approaches, the faint glow of the moon seeping through your thin curtains, you find yourself unable to sleep. Though this time, it’s not because of your reeling mind, rather a faint noise coming from the room down the hall and to your left. — During your previous nights, the house had been eerily silent, almost deafening as it added to the feeling of you living there alone. And Beomgyu was not one to play music at such an hour, even though he was likely still very much awake. 

With a small frown you sit up, fingers grasping the bed sheets beneath you as you shift on the mattress. It was near impossible to make out any details regarding the noise, only a hushed sequence here and there could be heard and your frown deepens. But your desire for a full night’s sleep quickly overweighs any doubt as you’re reminded of the early morning class you had the following day, and the bed squeaks as you gingerly climb off of it, quietly venturing out into the dark hallway to face whatever awaits you. 

You’re able to locate the source of the sound as soon as you step out into the dark hall, and your throat goes dry as your eyes seize the door leading to Beomgyu’s bedroom. — The floorboards creak under your weight, making you freeze as you listen for a shift in the noise coming from his room, but he doesn’t seem to have noticed. 

Carefully you creep forward, a hand on the wall to guide you as you near your target. The closer you get the clearer the noise gets, and for a moment you wondered if he was hurt as deep grunt-like sounds slipped through the crack of the wooden door. What would you even tell him? Biting the inside of your cheek, you shake your head. Just yell at him, cause a scene, do something.

Your fingers are wrapped around the door handle when you suddenly stop, your heart practically leaping out of your chest as a small moan reaches your ears. Stunned, you remain frozen in place as you listen to the ragged breathing of Beomgyu, coming from inside his bedroom and your foggy brain slowly pieces together what he was up to. A wave of disgust washes over you, perhaps even embarrassment at having caught him doing something like that. 

It takes you about half a minute to snap out of your initial shock, eyes darting back down the hall as you plan to make your escape, because there was no way you were going to let him know that you’d heard him. But just as you turn around to head back to safety, a deep groan makes you halt. “Mhhn fuck”, Beomgyu grunts, his voice muffled by the wall separating you but you clearly catch the ragged moan following the curse. 

You thought you could make out something else in the far background, a faint whisper of someone else. He hadn’t brought someone over had he? No, that’s impossible, you would’ve known. And soon the all too familiar and almost theatrical moan of a woman pierces the air.

Teeth latching on to your bottom lip, you stand torn, your brain desperately yelling for you to leave, to forget that any of this ever happened, to not pry further and spare your last bits of sanity. But another part of you, a far more sinister one, keeps your body locked in place, making you unable to move neither forward nor back; forcing you to listen as your Beomgyu gets off to some cheap porn video in his room.

You felt dirty just by hearing him, but the other part of you felt something dangerously close to excitement, your heart thumping unmistakably faster as your gaze flickers back toward his shut door. 

“H-ah..” He breathes and you swallow a gulp, sweat sliding down your forehead at the strange feelings swirling inside of you. Your hands clench at your sides, shivers rippling through your body as you hold your tongue, terrified of making your presence known. — He should be ashamed, not you, you had merely passed by, right? So why did you feel so bashful standing here, right outside his room, in the middle of the night, like some creep. 

“Mhhn fucking hell”, he croaks and you screw your eyes shut, desperately trying to erase the images playing in front of you like that of an old film. Images of him, his head thrown back, his lips slightly parted, lidded eyes and his hand… his hand wrapped around– “Oh my god”, you breathe, bracing yourself against the wall as your head falls forward. You had to get out of here. 

⸝⸝

Disgusting. That’s what he was. Not only a loathsome person but a pervert too. And as you walk down the familiar street, your school bag flung over your shoulder, you think of ways to confront him about his behavior. He was in the wrong here, not you. Besides, your request for him to keep it down at night was reasonable. 

The wooden fence gate feels rough under the tips of your fingers as you push it open, your eyes falling on the quaint house before you. The gravel makes a crunching noise beneath your shoes as you near the front door, the lump in your throat only growing in size. — It was such a pretty house, and to think that something so dark resided within its walls made you sick. Still, you unlock the old door and make your way inside. 

The familiar scent of roses invades your senses almost immediately and you take pride in the comforting smell, allowing yourself to just stay for a moment. You knew that he was home already, having spotted his car on your way back, and it didn’t exactly take a genius to figure out where he was currently lounging at. — Discarding your bag alongside your shoes, you begin the small journey up the stairs, not planning on prolonging the inevitable conversation. 

The blaring music fills your ears as soon as you reach the top step and you heave a sigh. You could do this, you wouldn’t back down. — The first knock is petty, weak, barely audible over the heavy bass thumping on the other side. You bite your lip, raising your fist once more, this time you give the wood a harsher tap. But still, nothing. You stand there for a moment, listening to the unfamiliar song playing and you wonder why he felt the need to drown himself in music as vile as that. Perhaps it was to quiet the undeniably gruesome thoughts you could only imagine filled his mind. 

“Beomgyu!” You shout his name, knuckles near hurting as they pound the door in front of you. Finally, the loud melody comes to an abrupt halt and you can hear him shuffling about inside his room, the soft padding of footsteps approaching and soon he reveals himself. — He looks the same as he always did, as he always had. Except he looks…different. You think it might have something to do with what you had heard him do the previous night. Because something was different, something was no longer the same. 

“What do you want?” He spits, the words sound almost like an accusation and you watch as his brows furrow, dark gaze narrowing down on you. Suddenly, you feel your composure crumble, the phrases you’d gone over in your head so many times on the way back home suddenly diminishing to nothing as you stand before him. Your lips part, for whatever excuse you could possibly find but Beomgyu beats you to the case. 

“If you’re here to complain about how you miss your daddy then I don’t give a shit.” 

Your mouth closes again, your brows mimicking his frown as you peer up at him. Is that what he thinks of you? Is that how he perceives you? As nothing more but a crybaby who can’t go a day without her father, who sobs herself to sleep in the absence of her mother? — “That’s not why I–” — “Like I said”, he cuts you off, his gaze hardening, “I don’t give a shit.” 

The grimace painting your face is surely unmistakable and your fists clench as you swallow back the insults waiting on your tongue. “Well I do”, you say, masking your otherwise trembling voice with firmness as you maintain the tense eye contact. Beomgyu appears, if not surprised then at least taken aback, his lip twitching as he lets out a short huff. He folds his arms over his chest, covering the print on his black t-shirt, seemingly waiting for you to continue. 

“I’m here to…to ask you..” You find yourself stumbling over your rehearsed lines, mind fumbling for a way to approach the situation without making it awkward for the both of you. Not wanting him to know that you’d heard him but also wanting him to be aware of the fact that you knew exactly what he’d been up to. — “What I want to say is, please keep it down..at…at night, some of us are trying to sleep you know..” 

Carefully you peek up at him, trying your hardest to subtly gauge his reaction. But Beomgyu only hums, his brows raising in play-pretend surprise as he leans against the doorframe. “Keep what down? It’s not exactly like I’m blasting music or anythin’” he muses. You shake your head, “that’s not what I’m asking, I’m asking you to keep it down when…when y-you you know..” 

The smirk slowly etching its way to his lips should’ve told you everything you needed to know. That he was just looking for ways to push you further, to rile you up and get you flustered, but for some reason it didn’t, and you kept going. — “When I what?” He wonders, eyes flickering over your guarded stance as you awkwardly shift in front of him, letting your weight fall on one leg. “Come on, you know what I mean”, you practically whine, not caring about how immature and childish you sounded as you avoided actually uttering the words out loud. 

“When I jack off?” He asks, his tone nonchalant as his hands slide down the pockets of his already low hanging jeans. You meekly nod, gaze dropping to the floor as your cheeks flush with color. “Y-Yeah that…you’re kind of..loud”, you cough, anxiously crossing your arms over your chest as you clear your throat. 

Beomgyu seems to be considering your words for a moment, his attention fixed on something behind you as he quietly hums. But then he leans forward, his face landing almost inches from your own and you can clearly see the smudged liner around his eyes now. “And you’ve got a problem with that?” He tilts his head to the side, studying you expectantly. 

“Come on now, sis”, he drawls and you cringe, hating how the word sounded on his lips. “You can’t possibly tell me that you’re not twice as loud when you touch yourself.” — The statement made your eyes blow wide as your jaw slacked. Feebly you shake your head in an attempt to deny his accusations. “I- No!” You shriek, taking a small step back as your hands wave in objection. “I don’t– I don’t do stuff…stuff like that..” 

Beomgyu’s smirk widens as he watches your apprehensive response, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Stuff like that?” He repeats, the sentence sickly sweet on his tongue. “You mean you’ve never played with yourself like that? How dull.” — You swallow, your throat suddenly feeling beyond parched as you shake your head once more. Was that so bad? Did that make you so different? You’d never understood the appeal, never felt those feelings, never even had a boyfriend. It shouldn’t matter should it? 

So why did it make Beomgyu look at you like that? Like you had just become something completely different in his eyes, something prized, something desirable. “Really?” He repeats, as if unbelieving of what he was currently hearing. Your quiet “no” is met by an even more menacing smirk as his tongue prods at the inside of his cheek. 

“Why, your daddy must be real’ proud of you then”, he grins and you feel your stomach twist. — “N-No he doesn’t care about stuff like that.” Because why would he? He was your father, sure you were close but some things were better off kept private. But it seemed no matter what you said could make the hungry look in his gaze go away and you felt your heart rate increase tenfold. 

Beomgyu merely scoffs, clearly not buying your truths. “Well then your daddy doesn’t know how much of life his daughter is truly missing out on.” — You frown, straightening your back if only slightly as you regard him with a hint of determination. “I’m not missing out on anything, to be frank, I’m quite happy the way I am right now.” You give a short pause, stopping only to give him a quick one over. “Not that the same can be said for you.” 

It feels good to watch his once smug expression morph into a much more scowl-like one as he lets out a short huff. When he doesn’t say anything, you feel a proud smirk crawling its way to your lips and you barely manage to conceal it as you turn to walk back to your room. — Only when you’ve reached your door, does he speak again, and you’re surprised to find him still lingering by his own doorway. 

“Do happy people cry everyday too, or is that just you?” 

⸝⸝

You’re unable to get his words out of your mind and you spend the majority of the following night mulling over them. “Do happy people cry everyday?” Do they? Was crying necessarily a bad thing? People cry when they’re happy too, people cry for a variety of reasons. Some merely sniffle,  some sob whilst others practically scream. Could happiness really be measured in tears or was that just something he’d said to get on your nerves, to have the last word? 

You lay tossing and turning in bed, your blanket bunching up around your legs before you eventually kicked it off again. — If only your mom was still around, she would be sure to have an answer, for she always did.. You nod to yourself as you mindlessly fiddle with the bracelet around your wrist.

Perhaps you were over analyzing his words, twisting and turning something completely meaningless for hours on end. But it was the only way you’d be able to feel at ease. You had a habit of trying to understand things on a deeper level, knowledge comforted you. It was why you nearly drowned yourself in your studies, why you spent so much time indulging in literature or film. It was your escape. 

Part of you supposed you should have Beomgyu completely figured out by now, with the way you memorized each snarky comment of his. But you never did, it felt like you knew nothing about him yet everything all at once. Maybe your knowledge of him was biased. You’d been quick to snap his picture, to paint a vision of him so sinister that you found it hard to view him any differently. — In your eyes, Beomgyu was a selfish and bad person, a person who did not feel empathy nor compassion for others. And perhaps that was why your theories about him seemed to lead you down the same path each time. 

But you didn't think that you were a close minded person… Was there really something you had missed, something you had overlooked? Was there more to Beomgyu than he let on to? 

You don’t have to ponder much longer for a quiet knock to your door rips you from the deep thoughts previously consuming your mind. With a small flinch you shot up from your bed, crawling back against the headboard as your eyes trained on the entryway to your room. For a moment you think it might be an intruder, but what kind of thief would knock? — Not only knock but proceed to open the door without waiting for a reply. You only knew one person so unthoughtful. 

Beomgyu’s shadow is dark, shielded from the dim luminance of the moon mere feet away from him as he stands in the doorway. One step forward would reveal his face entirely, and you find yourself both longing and dreading for him to move. — Why was he here? You guys made sure to avoid one another diligently so why was he willingly ruining it? 

“I can help you.” 

His voice is low, but he speaks clearly. A crease runs along your forehead as your brows pull into a frown. “Help me?” You repeat, the confusion evident in your tone as you shift against the pillow behind your back. Beomgyu nods, taking a bold step forward which casts an eerie glow across the side of his face. Your gaze flickers from his intense and dark eyes to his lips, pulled into a small smirk and your stomach drops. 

You knew why he was here. Because what other motive could he possibly have? — You had seen the way he treated those around him, you had witnessed the effect he had on his mom as she fell to her knees in tears, the way his words had sliced through you like daggers of a knife, shamelessly cutting your barely healed skin. Beomgyu made things around him die, every touch of his was poison, lethal. And now he had come to kill you too. 

It wasn’t like his sudden change in demeanor was unexpected, you knew that he was capable of breaking things, breaking people. He had just never paid you much attention because he thought you were already broken. The death of your mother slowly eating you away as you cried for her each night. — But you can tell he’s had a change of heart, the way his eyes rake across your body, barely concealed by the flimsy pajamas you wore, untainted, untouched, pure. Ready for him to kill. 

“I don’t need your help.” You try to evade him off, convince him that you were no object of his affection. But it was impossible. Beomgyu shakes his head, slowly approaching your bed before he takes a seat, causing the cushion beneath him to dip slightly. — “You don’t even know what I’m about to offer you”, he muses, fingers trailing up your exposed leg and you quickly withdraw it, stuffing it beneath the blanket. 

“I know that I do not need it”, you bite back, twisting your body as far away from him as possible. He huffs out a short breath, biting the inside of his cheek, seemingly in deep thought. You peer at him through the corner of your eye, lips curling into a small grimace. — “Do you plan on living in the dark forever then?” He finally wonders, his voice a mere murmur and you frown. “I could show you, show you the light”, he hums, fingers drumming against the mattress leisurely. 

You’re unable to hide the scoff you emit before turning back to face him. “You couldn’t find light if it so much as presented itself in front of you.” Beomgyu’s jaw visibly clenches at your words, his hand stilling against the bed as his gaze flickers up to meet yours, an underlying twinge of curiosity lingering behind his otherwise cold and emotionless eyes. —  “No? And why’s that?” 

Your lip twitches, a small grimace of pure disgust threatening to overtake your entire face as you regard him with disdain. “Because something as dark and twisted as you cannot possibly seek light. You repell it.” 

The last sentence rings out in the silent air, and you watch as the intrigue in his eyes becomes put out like that of a dying fire. His expression contorted into the one you knew so well, the cruel one, the one that hurt people. “What, and you think you’re some kind of saint?” He jeers, trying to mask where your words had evidently stung. — Were you a saint? Hardly. But you didn’t hurt the people around you just because you could, just because life had treated you unfairly. That was the difference between you and Beomgyu. 

“You know what I think of you?” He says, the bed squeaking as he leans forward, dangerously close. “I think you’re scared.” He drawls, eyes boring into your own with so much vigor that you almost felt pity for the anger that consumed him. How miserable he must be to live like that. — “I’m not scared.” You calmly state, shifting against the pillows as you instinctively try to create distance between the two of you. Quickly taking note of your hesitant body language, he smirks, “no? Then prove it.”

“Prove that you’re not afraid of the darkness, of my darkness.” 

You remain silent for a moment, watching as he awaits your answer, your next course of action. Was this a bad idea? Probably. You had told yourself over and over that you wouldn’t let yourself get consumed by him, become tainted by his flawed hands. Yet you find yourself reaching for the blanket covering your body, pulling it from your legs as you discard it on the floor. Beomgyu follows the movement with an amused look, an almost wicked one before his smokey eyes snap back to yours. 

“Fine”, you say, adjusting yourself on the bed as you let your hands fall to your sides, “show me.” The simple statement makes his face twist into a look of pure smugness and Beomgyu wastes no time in scooting closer, fingers wrapping around both of your wrists as he positions himself before you. “You have no idea what you’re asking of me”, he murmurs, his lip twitching into a sinister grin as he does. It was almost as if your obliviousness spurred him on, your naivety making his mind reel. 

His breath is warm on your face as he studies you closely, from the way blood rushes beneath your cheeks to your eyelashes fluttering as you try to focus with him so close. “Have you ever kissed someone before?” He asks, the underlying curiosity in his words palpable. You try to think of any occasion in which you might’ve, but after a good moment you shake your head. “Only once…in middle school, a smell peck on the lips..” You admit, albeit a little sheepishly. 

The smirk on his face only widened, exposing his sharp teeth as Beomgyu chuckled. “That doesn’t count”, he states, seemingly pleased with your answer, with your honesty, your trust. Biting your bottom lip, you swallow before nodding slowly. “I’ll show you how to.” He then mumbles, and suddenly his nose is practically grazing yours. You suck in a sharp breath, eyes widening as you watch his confident ones. 

Then his lips press against your own, and they’re surprisingly soft. At first he remained still, completely unmoving and you wondered what on god's green earth he was doing. But soon he lets his eyes close, one of his hands letting go of your wrist as he cups your cheek. The small caress makes your eyes widen further and you resist the urge to pull back. Unsure of what to do with yourself, you hesitantly respond to the tentative kiss, letting your eyes flutter shut as well. 

You knew that you shouldn’t be doing this, that it was wrong, taboo even. He was your step brother.. at least he was bound to be once your parents got married. Guilt roots itself in the pits of your stomach, making it twist and turn uncomfortably as you try to relax in his grip. — He doesn’t push you any further and it takes you by surprise. Instead he lets his lips linger on top of yours, and when he pulls away moments later, a small pecking sound follows it. You watch through lidded eyes as his narrowed gaze studies you, the hand on your cheek moving to your chin. 

“How was it?” He wonders, as if expecting a review of some sort. Your mouth parts but you can’t seem to find the words. How could you describe the shame and the guilt? How could you ever verbalize the way his soft lips had felt on yours, such a thing was impossible. — “It felt weird..” Your hushed whisper echoes out like church bells in your ears and you remain very aware of the way his fingers reside around your chin, locking your face in place. 

Beomgyu lets out a short breath, his thumb pulling your bottom lip down as his gaze catches onto your exposed teeth. “First time always feels weird”, he states and before you get to prepare yourself, he dives right back in, except this time he goes straight for the kill. — You let out a small yelp as he pries your mouth open, immediately slipping his wet tongue inside to slide against yours. You can still taste the minty toothpaste on him and the sensation of something so wet and…alive, in your mouth, makes you cringe. 

You still allow him to kiss you, to push you back against the pillows as his hands roam your body, his poisonous touch spreading across your skin like wildfire. You knew that this was exactly what he wanted, to ruin something so perfectly pure, to take something from you that you could never get back. And for some reason, you let him. — Only when his hand reaches the waistband of your pajama shorts do you stop him, eyes wide as you push him back. 

“Wait.” 

The kiss breaks with a wet sound and a small string of saliva still connects the two of you. Struggling to find a suitable approach to the matter, you let your gaze drop to his chest, heaving a small sigh as you bite your lip. “I…I don’t know if…I mean I haven’t..” Honestly you didn’t even know what you were getting at yourself, you supposed you wanted to prolong the moment, if just a moment longer. 

Beomgyu regards you with an expression you don’t think you’d ever seen on him before; a mixture of both intrigue and desire. “Are you scared?” He wonders and without thinking, you nod. His lips stretch wide, the hand on your shorts moving to your inner thigh as he gives it a light squeeze and you nearly flinch at the touch. “Good”, he huffs, his fingers venturing beneath the fabric of your pajamas as he gauges your reaction closely. 

When he pulls your shorts down, you gingerly try and conceal yourself, your cheeks flushing in all shades of red as your thighs squeeze shut. “Don’t be embarrassed”, he tsk’s, his hands on your knees as he firmly spreads them. — “I’ve seen plenty of pussies before”, he merely shrugs, “yours won’t be any different.” His reassurance didn’t help ease much of your worries as you let him pry your legs open. 

He starts slow, and you’re thankful; his index and middle finger gently rubbing you through the soft cotton of your panties and you resist the urge to hide your face as you squirm against him. — It wasn’t like you’d never touched yourself, because you had…you think. Like any other young teenager you’d experimented a little with your body, but as an inexperienced 15-year old, the results had proved futile. You never had the urge you suppose, you didn’t even know how it was supposed to feel like. But as Beomgyu touches you through your underwear, a strange feeling mingles alongside the guilt and shame in your stomach. 

His eyes are on you, on only you, watching as you bite your bottom lip, your hands fidgeting with the bed sheets as you try to suppress the small noises bubbling in your throat. Not until his fingers find your clit, rubbing it deliberately through your panties, do you let out a small squeak. “Is…Is it supposed to feel like that?” — Beomgyu’s dark gaze shifts from your spread legs and over to your wide stare. He nods, “does it feel good?” 

“Strange..” You quietly whisper, though you made no move to stop him as his index finger hooks around the waistband of your underwear. “Yeah?” He murmurs, taking his time as he slowly pulls the piece of garment from your body, letting it slide along your legs before he discards it on the floor. “You’ll get used to it”, he muses, eyes shifting to your exposed cunt as they visibly darken, “it comes with experience.” 

You had no clue what to expect, what to feel, how to respond. Your whole body felt tense as his cold fingers brushed against your naked skin, inching their way up and suddenly it felt like you were under a microscope, every single part of you being presented under a stark light. Beomgyu on the other hand, seems far more at ease as he lets two of his fingers swipe across your cute folds, teasingly pushing them apart as he slowly rubs you. 

It takes everything in you not to cringe at the weird and damp feeling pooling between your legs, the consistent throb of your cunt and the small cry you emit as he flicks over your clit once more. He sighs, “virgin pussies are my favorite”, his gaze shifts to his already glistening fingers, “they get wet so easily.” — You merely let out a small whimper at his words, thigh involuntarily twitching, the movement immediately catching his eye as his lips curl into a smirk. 

“W-Wait!” You croak as you suddenly feel him prodding against your fluttering hole, your muscles taut as you shift on the bed. Beomgyu stops, hand resting against your core as he studies you with an indifferent expression. “W-Won’t that hurt?” It felt embarrassing to ask, but the thought of him pushing something inside of you…it scared you. — But Beomgyu only shrugs. “It might”, he drawls, his fingers resuming their work on your cunt as he repositions his index one right above the tight rim of muscle, “depends on how bad you want me.” 

Want him? You didn’t know if you wanted him, it wasn’t like you liked him, right? You hated Beomgyu, you’d hated him for two years. You hated how he treated his mother, how he treated you, with such coldness and such little empathy. You hated how he made you cry, how he made you feel small and weak. You hated how he made you feel bad for grieving your own mother. 

But as your gaze shifts to his face, and as you will yourself to look past the cruelty, the darkness, you can still make out the boy you met that night, the one you’d had a small and what you thought was an insignificant crush on. From the black charcoal around his eyes, to the silver jewelry bored into his eyebrow; his black hair, nearly reaching his shoulders now, and his dark eyes, his eyes that both scared and intrigued you. 

You gasp when he without warning pushes his finger past your folds, immediately curling it inside of you, making your back arch off the bed in sheer surprise. Beomgyu’s attention is solely on your flushed face, watching in contentment as you writher under his touch, as you slowly lose yourself. — “O-Oh..” Is all you manage to squeak out between the ragged breaths. It felt weird and uncomfortable, but it didn't hurt, instead the fluttering sensation in your stomach only seemed to grow. 

“Such a greedy pussy”, Beomgyu hums as he feels you pulsate around his finger, “sucking me in like a complete whore.” You shake your head, “I-I’m not..” The words die in your throat as he adds he slides a second digit past your tight rim, making you shriek as he stretches your cunt. 

His touch felt poisonous but you couldn’t find it in you to push him off, to tell him to stop. No matter how many times you told yourself how wrong it was, you couldn’t help but slowly succumb to the darkness that was Beomgyu. Wanting, no needing, more. It was as if he’d introduced you to a most dangerous drug, and you find yourself desperately seeking another fix, a stronger one. 

Your short nails have torn the bright sheets covering the mattress, and your arms tremble as you lock eyes with him. Satisfactory, that was the only way you could describe the expression painting his face. You don’t think you’d ever seen Beomgyu as anything but angry, but this…this was far from it. He looks ready to devour you whole, his brooding eyes fixating on the way your jaw slacked, your saliva coated lips parted and your eyebrows drawn together in such an endearing manner. 

“Feel good?” He wonders, his brow twitching slightly when his thumb presses against your clit, eliciting a high pitched moan from you as you squirm against him. “I’ll take that as a yes”, he drawls and before you know it, his fingers are gone, making a sloppy sound as they withdraw from your cunt. You whine, hips bucking up in an attempt to seek his touch and your cheeks flare up in color. “W-Why did you stop..?” You pathetically wonder, biting the inside of your cheek, thinking that you had possibly done something wrong. 

Beomgyu doesn’t say anything as he brings his sticky fingers to his face, inhaling your scent before shoving them into his mouth. Your jaw falls open in bewilderment, how could he just do something like that so…casually. — “Come on now princess, we’ve only just gotten started.” 

Even more? 

Your already wide eyes dilate even further, completely forgetting to be angry over the nickname he’d used as his hand dips inside the waistband of his sweats, pulling his hard cock from his briefs. It wasn’t like you were a total prude, you knew what a dick looked like, you just…had never seen one up close. — Beomgyu takes his time as he wraps his fingers around its base, languidly stroking himself as pearly beads of what you could only assume to be precum spilled from the slit on top. 

The thought of having that inside of you makes your throat go dry and you shift uncomfortably on the bed. “Come on now, sis, don’t grow shy on me”, he drawls, stifling a groan as his thumb flicks over his tip. The knot in your stomach returns and you shoot him a glare, “I am not your ‘sis’”, you state through gritted teeth. But Beomgyu only chuckles before leaning forward, his face drawing in close once more. With one hand still on his cock, the other one presses flat against the mattress as he hovers in front of you. 

“Lie down.” 

His sharp command sends a shiver down your spine and you hesitantly comply, awkwardly sliding yourself down between his parted legs until only your head remains perched on the pillow. From this angle, Beomgyu’s long hair falls in front of his face and you resist the urge to reach up and brush it away. Instead your nervous eyes flicker to his cock as he gently taps it against your inner thigh. Your gaze lingers on the way his arousal spills onto your naked skin and suddenly a wave of realization washes over you. 

“Shouldn’t we use a condom?” You whisper, biting the inside of your cheek as your attention flits back to the smug expression on his face. “Why? That takes away half the fun”, he hums, letting his tip part your puffy folds as he nudges it against your throbbing clit. “H-ah b-but isn’t it unsafe?” You whine, unable to keep from grinding against him, desperately seeking his touch. 

Beomgyu lets out an exasperated sigh, reaching a hand up to run through his slightly disheveled hair. “Don’t tell me you’re scared”, he grunts, his fingers clasping around your chin, pulling your face so that it rests inches from his. Your breath is uneven and jagged as you reluctantly meet his gaze, a quiet “no” spilling from your lips. — He grins, tongue dragging across the bottom row of teeth in his mouth, “such a terrible liar.” 

You don’t have time to think, much less act before the head of his cock pushed past the rim of taut muscle as he slid inside your warm cunt, almost immediately groaning at how you wrapped around him so deliciously. — “Fuck, you really are a virgin aren’t you?” He breathes, lips hovering above yours and you weakly nod. The stretch of his thick cock making you go near cross eyed as you grasped at his shoulders. It was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before and you were sure that Beomgyu enjoyed every second of it. 

He had been the first, the first one to get his hands on you, to spew his poison all over your pure and innocent virgin body, and he would make sure to do so thoroughly. His mouth is on your neck, tongue licking at your skin and you cringe away from the action but he doesn’t falter, lips immediately chasing yours as he keeps you in place. The kiss is rougher than the previous, hungry and disoriented as Beomgyu messily jerks his hips against yours. Your nails dig into the apex of his shoulders and his name echoes through in the pristine bedroom as you moan out in pleasure. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum right away if you keep that up”, he grunts, fingers digging into your cheeks as he withdraws from your lips. Your eyes widen as you feebly try and shake your head, dreading for him to finish inside. But he doesn’t, instead he redirects his focus to your neck, resuming what he’d been doing as his tongue darts out to swipe across its juncture. You squeal when his teeth graze your skin, the hands on his shoulders moving to his dark hair. 

The marks he left on your untouched skin were bound to linger for at least a couple of days, he made sure of that. Reveling in the fact that you’d let him in, let him close, allowed him to take something so precious, something that you had been clinging on to for so long. He would have you, all of you, even if only once, he would be sure to leave an impression. 

And you know that you should feel ashamed, feel guilty, dirty even. But something feels different, something about him, about Beomgyu. It’s not the Beomgyu you loathed, the Beomgyu who’d made you cry, the Beomgyu who made you feel worthless. — None of the anger, the hatred, the fire; none of that lingered right now. And had it not been for his sharp teeth on your skin and his rough pace as his cock rammed into your throbbing cunt, the moment might’ve even been tender. 

There’s an unfamiliar feeling building in the pits of your stomach and it had long since overridden the previous shame and guilt. Unsure of what to make of it, you desperately tug on Beomgyu’s hair, eventually making his head raise from your chest with a small frown, the liner around his eyes even more smudged than usual now. — “I’m…I…” your face turns beet red as you stumble over your words, not knowing how to express yourself. 

He licks his already wet lips, his pace momentarily slowing and you whimper at the discomfort soaring through your body. “You close?” He asks, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your sweaty forehead. You open your mouth only to close it again, nodding sheepishly as your hands twist in his hair. Beomgyu groans as he lets his fingers slide down your stomach, reaching where your bodies connected like one, middle finger rubbing your clit menacingly as he watches you arch against him with a broken moan. 

Your first ever orgasm felt out of this world, your cunt clenching around his cock with such vigor that you thought you might cry, a string of incoherent and high pitched whines ripping from your throat as you pull Beomgyu close, and for the first time, you’re the one initiating the kiss as you slam your lips on his. — He groans into your mouth, letting you slide your tongue against his, albeit a little awkwardly as you had no clue of what you were doing. 

Finally, as your climax comes to an end, you find yourself relaxing against the mattress, the fingers in his hair loosening their grip as you allow yourself to kiss him slowly. — “F-Fuck princess”, he grunts, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth before letting go. You respond by eagerly raising your hips to meet his, wincing at how sensitive you felt as his cock twitched inside of you. “Fuck, fuck, wait”, he breaths, tearing himself from you as he swiftly pulls out with a small hiss. 

In your euphoric state, your eyes drift to his hand wrapped around his shaft, quickly jerking himself off as his gaze fixates on your wet cunt. Then he notices you, his lips curling into a wicked grin as he reaches for your wrist, “come here”, he urges as he guides the flat of your hand to wrap around his cock. — Blinking, your attention flits between his expectant face and his heavy dick in your grasp as you contemplate your next move. It wasn’t like you’d ever done something like this before but it looked easy enough when he was doing it. 

With determination you begin to carefully stroke him, biting the inside of your cheek at the squelching sound erupting as his arousal smeared across your fingers. Beomgyu’s hips jerk forward and your movements stutter. — “H-ah, fucking hell d-don’t stop”, he groans, his jaw slacked as his eyes tightly squeezed shut. A quiet “sorry” slips from your lips and your pace returns as you work to get him off. 

“F-Fuck go a bit faster, yeah?” He mutters, his hand joining in on top of yours as he ups the intensity. Merely following his command, you grip him tighter, drawing a strained moan from him as your fingers drag across his tip. — It made you feel oddly powerful, seeing him like this, his otherwise indifferent face completely flushed, and instead of presenting himself with a mean scowl, he looked to be in complete bliss as he let his head fall back. 

A final twitch of his causes hot liquid to spurt from his throbbing cock, the white substance coating both your hand and lower abdomen. He heaves a sigh and you feel him slowly go soft in your hand before you pull it away. Beomgyu runs his fingers through his hair, parting it before letting his arm drop back down, his gaze landing on the mess on your stomach. He tsk’s spreading the sticky fluid across your skin. “What would your daddy think if he saw you like this, hm?” He murmurs, licking his lips before bringing his cum-coated fingers to your face. 

You shake your head, without the waves of pleasure sparking through you, the shame and the guilt suddenly crawled right back. “I- I don’t want to talk about him..” You whine, trying to force the image of your father out of your mind. — “His beautiful princess, completely ruined by something so…what did you say I was? Dark?” 

Without warning he pushes his wet fingers inside your mouth, making you cringe at the salty taste of him. “I bet your daddy would hate you forever”, Beomgyu finally states, watching as you frown, lips closing around the digits in your mouth. — And when he finally withdraws them, you splutter, “my father doesn’t hate me, but yours seem to do.” 

Beomgyu’s jaw twitches, his lips curling up into a small scowl and the desire previously filling the air slowly simmers out. You knew that he wanted you to feel just as miserable as he did. But you wouldn’t let him, you wouldn’t let him get to you like that. — Half expecting an insult thrown your way, you’re surprised when he merely tucks himself back into his sweats, rising from the bed as he regards you with dark eyes. “Fine, keep living with such fantasies and we’ll see just how long it takes for them to get crushed.” 

Without as much as another word, he leaves your room, the door slamming shut behind him as the small house falls under an eerie silence once more. 

⸝⸝

Your parents came home two days later, and though you wanted to say that things had changed between you and Beomgyu after your…night together, it was safe to say that they hadn’t. At least not on his part. You on the other hand, couldn’t get the feeling of his hands off of your body, it was like he’d permanently imprinted himself on your skin. It feels disgusting, and you had spent three hours in the shower the morning after, vigorously trying to scrub the venom from your system. But it never worked, his touch lingered like that of a tattoo, forever sealed onto you. You could never take back what had happened that night. 

For some reason, a small part of you doesn’t want to. 

Beomgyu avoided you, and when he wasn’t avoiding you he was glaring. His dark and piercing eyes followed your every move whenever you were in his field of vision. But there was something else too, a sense of superiority. — He knew that you were constantly dealing with the consequences of that night, he could see the way your mind haunted you with the memories, and he took pride in watching the shame and the guilt practically eat you alive. — He was on top of the world and you were scrambling to even get by. 

So one could easily imagine your surprise when one evening, you found him in a state you never thought you’d ever get to witness. 

It was late, but your small family had yet to eat dinner, and you watched as Ms Choi darted across the kitchen, in full with preparing your meal. You helped her set the table as you laughed at a couple of your dad’s terrible and overused jokes. It had taken a whole of three days for you to be able to look him in the eye after he’d come home, and you still felt terrible whenever you caught him and Ms Choi sharing a kiss; knowing that one tiny slip of your lips could manage to ruin something so perfect. 

You trusted that Beomgyu wouldn’t utter as much as a single breath about what had transpired that night, but you still startled when his mother taps your shoulder, whipping around as you come face to face with her. — “Dear, do you mind fetching Beomgyu, dinner’s almost ready”, she smiled, that warm and comforting smile she so often gave her son, only to receive a mere huff in return. You nod, slowly making your way out of the kitchen as you head for the hallway, dreading having to speak to him, much less in private. 

The steps creak under your weight as you drag yourself up the stairs, drawing out the moment for as long as possible before you inevitably reach his door. With a small sigh, you knock. There’s no music coming from the other side and you frown, what’s up with him? — Another knock, but nothing. You bite the inside of your cheek, a wave of frustration crashing over you at the thought of having to call out for him. 

“Beomgyu?” 

A third knock. You wait for at least a minute but there’s nothing, just silence. Perhaps he’d fallen asleep, still, you should wake him and let him know that dinner was ready, Ms Choi had asked you after all. — Your hand is near trembling as you grasp the handle, twisting it before pushing the door open. Slowly adjusting to the darkness of his room, you peer inside. But to your surprise, he wasn’t there. 

Your footsteps make a thumping sound as you hurry down the stairs. If he wasn’t in his room then…Your gaze flickers toward the dining room and kitchen before settling on the front door. “Did he mention anything about going out?” You call out for Ms Choi and she soon appears in the doorway, a bowl of salad in her hands. “No, is he not in his room?” She wonders, her face quickly falling. 

Noting her worried expression you quickly shake your head as you try and reassure her. “I’m sure he just went for a walk, I’ll go check.” — Your dad’s girlfriend gives a small nod as her gaze, too, flickers toward the door. “Alright..” 

⸝⸝ 

The cool night air hits your face and you mutter a few curses under your breath, scolding yourself for offering to do something like that when the last thing you wanted was to be out in this cold. — As you walk down the graveled path you let out a tired groan, what were you even thinking coming out here? It wasn’t like he was just going to magically appear or something. Fucking asshole, had the nerve to leave without a word and now you had to go looking for him. 

But as you push the small fence gate open and turn out and onto the street, a familiar scene flashes before your eyes. Nostalgia fills your every fiber as your eyes fall on Beomgyu’s figure, perched on the sidewalk as he hugs his knees to his chest, just like he had that night, that night two years ago. — But something was different. That night, the one where you had learned to hate him, it had been a warm night, and Beomgyu had been burning with rage. Today, the air is much colder, and Beomgyu is no longer on fire, instead he’s shivering, his whole body quivering as small sobs escape his soft lips.  

You freeze at the sight, breath catching in your throat as you regard his almost pathetic frame, curling in on itself as his fingers dig into the flesh of his calves. Part of you wants to leave him there, perhaps even make fun of him, it was most tempting to finally get back at him for the way he’d ruined you. — But you weren’t Beomgyu. And you wouldn’t do that. 

Instead you find yourself slowly approaching, and just like that night two years ago, you slide down next to him on the cold pavement. He doesn’t seem to register that you’re there, and you sit in silence for a brief moment before addressing him. — “Beomgyu?” — His head jerks at the quiet whisper of his name, his usually narrowed eyes wide in shock as they flicker over to you. His cheeks are wet, stained with his tears and the liner around his eyes had run down his face in messy streaks. A few strands of hair stick to his forehead and his lip trembles as he sucks in a sharp breath. 

“Leave me the fuck alone.” He croaks, but his voice comes out weak and raspy. His hands wipe at his face, but it only spreads the mess already there even further and he lets out a frustrated groan. — You don’t say anything, because last time you tried to comfort him you only ended up getting hurt. Instead your gaze flits to his discarded phone between the two of you. The screen was broken, likely from him smashing it on the asphalt beneath. You frown as it suddenly comes to life, vibrating against the hard ground. The bright screen illuminates the dim street and your eyes land on the caller-ID. 

“Dad.” 

Beomgyu doesn’t make a move to answer, merely turning his head away as he continues to sob into his arms. “Don’t”, he mutters as he sees you reaching for the device, “he’s drunk.” — You purse your lips but your fingers still clasp around the phone, your thumb swiping to decline the call. Upon being presented with his lockscreen, you can make out at least another fifteen missed ones. Your chest churns at the scene, for whatever reason, you do not know. The bright light vanishes as you power off his phone completely, tossing it to the side as you stretch your legs out in front of you on the pavement. 

It takes him about a minute to lift his head from his arms and his breath is still uneven as he speaks. “What does he want?” — Biting your lip, you gaze ahead, tracing the outlines of each car parked down the street, memorizing their plate numbers. You didn’t know how to answer his question, so you remained silent. Beomgyu shuffles next to you, mimicking your movement of unfolding his legs. “I bet he wants money..” He then adds in a snarky tone, wiping his face once more as he snivels, “money to sponsor his fucking addiction.” 

You throw a quick glance in the direction of his discarded phone. “Why do you still have his number?” It was obvious that he didn’t like his father, so why let him bother him like that. Beomgyu shakes his head solemnly, his fingers twisting against one another as he opens his mouth only to close it again. “Wouldn’t it be better to block him?” — “I can’t.” He suddenly exclaims, turning to you with a small frown. 

Why not? Why let something like that plague you, why not just cut it off, why not just let go? 

It was then you realized that perhaps you and Beomgyu shared a lot more than you’d initially wanted to admit.. Your eyes drop to the bracelet around your wrist, the silver glinting under the moon. — When your attention returns to him, you find him already watching you, his gaze following yours as it resided by the jewelry on your arm. You think he might make another comment about it, but he doesn’t, instead he merely sighs as he runs a hand through his hair. 

“I think..” You begin, your voice a quiet whisper as you stare past him, eyes drifting off into the distance as you let the words roll off your tongue. “I think you’re stuck on what could’ve been rather than what you have.” Beomgyu doesn’t say anything, his gaze mindlessly dropping to his hands in front of him as he bites the inside of his cheek. “What I have”, he mutters with a small frown, clearly not intended for you to hear but you did. 

“You have your mom.” 

He scoffs, already anticipating your next self-victimizing rant about how yours was dead. “My mom is-” 

“A wonderful person.” Your statement catches him off guard and his attention shifts back to your face as he studies you with a look of wariness. “And you would see that if you spared her more than a glare”, you continue as you watch his skeptical expression. — You had never felt anything besides hatred for Beomgyu, and you had been so blinded by your rage that in a way, you had become almost exactly like him. But as you finally take a step back to view him completely, his disheveled frame, his slumped shoulders and runny makeup — pity washes over you, the same pity you had felt on that night two years ago; the night everything went wrong. 

“Stop holding her accountable for his mistakes.” 

You can see the twitch of his face at your words, as if he wanted to refuse them, to lash out on you, but he didn’t. Instead he looks to you with the most sorrowful look you’d ever witnessed on him. — “How do I do that?” He wonders, his voice is thick, laced with his previous tears. Biting your tongue, you hold back from saying what you thought he wasn’t ready to hear but Beomgyu clings to you, his hands wrapping around the fabric of your shirt, his grip near trembling. 

“I miss my mom.” He whispers, his voice breaking as a lonesome droplet falls down his cheek, slicing through the dark smear of charcoal on his face. Your jaw falls open, stunned by the way his resolve so suddenly crumbled. And as you heard the words leave his lips, “i miss my mom”, you could practically feel every single one of his emotions as they washed over him in thunderous waves. — You missed your mom too, you missed her terribly. 

He hiccups, his tears creating a damp spot on the shoulder of your shirt. “H-How do I get her back..?” The question comes out muffled as he grips you tightly. “Please…I want my mom back.” — Your eyes sting and you feel yourself slowly losing your composure as you draw in a ragged breath. With a small push of your hands, you manage to create some distance between the two of you, enough to where you could see his wet face, his glossy eyes and swollen lips. 

“You have to let him go.” 

You reach for his phone, powering it back on. Beomgyu looks hesitant as he wipes his eyes, exhaling shakily when you extend the device to him. “The longer you let him ruin you the more you and those around you will suffer.” — With wobbly fingers he grasps his phone, slowly finding his dad’s contact info. He wavers, thumb hovering above the block button as he bites his bottom lip. 

You don’t know why you felt the need to help him, why you felt like you had to comfort him, reassure him. — “You’ve said it yourself haven’t you? Some people don’t deserve children.” His gaze flickers up to meet yours at the statement, a glimmer of recognition in his eyes. “Don’t let him have that privilege”, you say as you let your hand rest on top of his. 

Beomgyu slowly nods, reluctantly pressing the dreadful button as he erases his father from his life. He purses his lips, breathing out through his nose as he stares at the screen for a minute, as if contemplating his next move. — “He’s gone.” He finally states, the frown on his face only deepening as he swallowed thickly. 

“Sometimes it’s better that way”, you mumble, letting go of his hand as you lean back, your gaze dropping to the bracelet around your wrist. 

Your heart pounds loudly in your chest, blood rushing through your body as you reach for the small lock, carefully unclasping the piece of sacred jewelry. Beomgyu and you…You weren’t so different, you think. And if he could do something, something like that, then who says you couldn’t? 

His eyes are on you, watching intently as you with shaky hands let the bracelet fall from your skin, feeling oddly empty without it. — It feels light in your hand, and you wondered how something so significant could weigh so little. It made it easier to let go. — Beomgyu lets you grab his wrist, the frown on his face creasing further when you tie the silver around him. 

“Now she’s gone too.” 

You give him a small smile, meeting his wide eyes as they shift from the bracelet around his wrist and your relieved expression. 

It’s without thinking that you lean in, softly pressing your lips against his in a small kiss. But this time you didn’t feel guilty, nor did you feel dirty or ashamed. Instead it felt nice, it felt like closure. Letting your eyes flutter closed, feeling his warm and damp skin against your own, a stark contrast to the cold night surrounding you. Beomgyu lets you kiss him without protest and you feel the faint caress of fingers to your cheek. 

When you pull away he chases after you, only to be stopped by the palm of your hand on his chest as you shake your head. “It’s not like that. You know it too.” Your soft whisper makes his jaw clench, his fingers dropping from your face as they curl into fists. Then he nods, the corner of his lips pulling upwards, “yeah.” 

Gingerly rising to your feet, you dust some off the dirt from your jeans before your attention returns to him, still perched on the sidewalk. — Your outstretched hand is met by the raise of his eyebrow and you roll your eyes, “come on, I think there’s someone who would like to talk to you.” Beomgyu frowns but takes your hand nonetheless as he lets you pull him up. 

You walk like that, hand in hand, and it feels nice. Your heart sinks a little at the thought that it could’ve been like this from the start, had things worked out differently. But as you turn to walk through the small fence gate, and your eyes fall on Ms Choi, anxiously waiting by the front door, you find yourself smiling. And instead of grieving what you could’ve had, you would focus on what you did have. 

Beomgyu audibly swallows next to you as his gaze surveys his mother, and as Ms Choi notices the two of you approaching, her face lights up. — With a final squeeze of his hand, you let him go. It was satisfactory in itself to see him walk up to his mom, letting her wrap her arms around him for the first time in what you could only guess to be years. But they both made it look so natural as they fell into each other’s embrace. And it only confirmed what you had known for so long.

That Beomgyu was and had always been, a mommy’s boy.

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[lomlhwa]

glory hole (v.c)

pairing: sex worker!reader x patron!vernon

preview: vernon's friends found a club that has secret glory holes. they know he's dying to get laid, so why not visit the glory holes?

tags/warnings: fem reader, reader is basically bent over a table and chained down, monster cock vernon, spanking, overstimulation, squirting, pet names (slut, whore, cumdump), degrading, reader calls vernon 'sir', unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampies

trigger warnings: n/a

wc: 1.2k

song recs for this fic: gimmie more by britney spears

a/n: this one's a doozy

vernon anxiously nibbles on his fingernail as he waits for his friends to arrive. he’s standing outside a raunchy club, looking like a total creep. why did he agree to this? there’s no way he’s actually this desperate to get off. 

just as he’s about to walk away, his friends round the corner, laughing and carrying on. “yo vernon! you excited, buddy?” his friend, mingyu, asks. vernon shrugs. “i guess so.” mingyu throws his arm over vernon’s shoulder and guides him into the club.

they head straight for the back of the room, finding a small desk that looks like a reception desk. “hey, reservation for jeonghan?” his other friend walks up. reservations for glory holes is insane. “ah, welcome back sir. 4 of you today?” the receptionist asks and jeonghan nods. the receptionist smiles and types something into her computer.

“would any of you gentlemen like protection? we make sure our workers are all clean but if you’d like the extra precaution, let me know.” everyone shakes their heads so vernon follows suit. the woman smiles again. she hands all four of them waivers to sign. he reads it carefully before signing it and handing it back.

the receptionist rises from her chair and walks over to unlock the door beside the group of friends. “your rooms are numbers 5 through 8. remember, feel free to engage in any of your fantasies as long as you don’t seriously injure anyone. their chains are easy to rotate if you wanna change positions. enjoy your 2 hours with our lovely women.” with that, the door is shut. 

“alright boys, see you later,” mingyu shouts before running into a room and clicking it locked. all of the other disperse as well, leaving vernon alone. he wanders to the last one of their rooms available. room number 6. he can already hear the sounds of skin slapping coming from other rooms.

he opens the door hesitantly, finding you bent over, humming to yourself. when he clicks the door locked, you jump and stop humming. “welcome sir. feel free to use me as you please. i’m here for your pleasure,” you recite the standard welcome message to the new patron who has just walked in. you can only hope it’s not some gross middle aged man with a tiny cock again.

when you feel no contact for another 5 minutes, you get worried. “sorry, i don’t mean to not touch you, i got dragged here by my friends and i feel bad using you.” you can’t help but stifle a small giggle. a man feeling bad about using a glory hole? that’s a new one. “sir, this is my job. just fuck me already.” by now, you’re certain he’s an ugly, washed up man. 

finally, you hear his belt jingle and you know he’s sucking it up. you hear him take a deep breath before shoving into you. you gasp at the size, your walls stretching painfully around him. you grip your chains with such force that your knuckles turn white. 

“fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he mutters before beginning to move. he starts off slow, knowing that the stretch is painful. he grips your hips tightly, leaving finger indents in your soft skin. he snaps your hips against yours, driving his cock against your g-spot and prodding your cervix. it’s been so long since you actually enjoyed a patron, but this felt so good. you wished you could reach your arm back to hold his arm or something. 

“you’re such a good slut, aren’t you?” he says before landing a hard smack on your ass. clearly he has managed to get much more comfortable. you nod your head, agreeing with him. you can feel your release building up with every thrust. such a timid man fucking so well is unheard of. but you’re loving this. you grip your chains for dear life, gasping for air as your orgasm creeps up. “god, please sir i’m gonna cum,” you beg, barely fighting it off. 

“you can cum, but i’m not gonna stop fucking you. i’m not done yet. i’m gonna use your hole until i cum” vernon smacks your ass again and you fall over the edge. your legs shake violently. if it weren’t for the chains, you would be snapping your legs closed. he continues to jackhammer into your hole, pushing you past the edge and towards another orgasm. you notice that his thrusts are getting sloppy, signaling to you that he’s close. “please cum inside me, sir. i need it so bad,” you plead, your walls squeezing around him. he digs his nails into your sides as he cums, filling you to the brim. the sensation sends you into another orgasm, this time you squirt all over his legs and the floor.

“aw, the cumdump likes being filled so much that she couldn’t take it,” he snickers, running his fingers over your sensitive core. you shake and twitch at every small touch. “i’m gonna flip you over, i wanna see your pretty face.” he hooks his arms around your waist and rolls you over. being rolled over holds your arms down to your chest with the chains, still trapped. 

when you’re finally situated and you see his face, you’re astonished to see how beautiful this man is. you almost wish this wasn’t a business exchange, but you know better than to get attached to customers. “well aren’t you a pretty little thing. so pretty and such a whore,” he comments, stroking your face. he ducks down to situate your crossed legs around his waist. he reaches down between you to shove back into you.

“i have 15 minutes left, i’m gonna get another orgasm out of you.” 15 minutes? how has it already almost been 2 hours? he slides into you easier this time, your hole having yet to recover from his previous entry. your arms strain against your chains, wishing you could grab onto him to ground yourself. he pounds into you ruthlessly, his only focus being to drive you over the edge.

he reaches down to rub your clit and you throw your head back, your eyes crossing involuntarily. “oh my fucking god,” you croak, your voice getting caught in the back of your throat. you squeeze your legs around his waist, desperate for release. with 5 minutes left on the clock, you plead for your orgasm. “cum with me, slut. i’m gonna fill you up again,” he demands, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face. 

as he feels you tighten for a final time, he leans down to kiss you. you hadn’t been kissed in so long so this surprised you. you kiss him back, cumming onto his cock as he simultaneously fills you up to the brim.

he pulls out of you and flips you back over into your original position just as his time strikes zero. “h-have a good day sir. feel f-free to return whenever you’d like,” you stutter the standard goodbye message. he slaps your ass one last time before pulling his pants back up and walking out. 

as the door closes behind him, he finds his friends coming out of their own rooms as well. “so? how was it?” jun asks him, patting him on the back. “so good, and she’s so hot,” he says, gesturing back to his room. 

“i will be coming back.”

© lomlhwa 2024

[ferrariseventeen]

seventeen nsfw thoughts 18+ minors dni

a/n: omg me making random nsfw posts again? who would have ever thought! so happy to be posting on here again and there’s already so much more to come! warnings: power dynamic,mentions of weed,high sex,hybrid

ceo wonwoo! i repeat ceo wonwoo who takes his pretty secretary into his office to use as a fleshlight before every meeting! just beckoning you in with a nonchalant wave of his hand,ignoring the other employees exchanging glances as you shuffle in the door behind him! they’re not stupid,oh no! everyone in the office knows what kind of relationship you have with the big boss,it’s what they talk about as they crowd around the coffee machine during breaks,it’s what they’re whispering about under their breaths around the lunch tables,”it’s the only reason she still has a job” they snigger to each other whenever they catch you slipping out of his office with your hair a mess and your skirt still bunched up around your thighs,a goofy smile on your lips. they’d never mention to each other that they wish it was them in your position,how their sharp words conceal how badly they wish they could be called in to join or fuck it,even just watch! sometimes it’s you wishing someone would be able to catch a glimpse of you on your knees on the carpeted floor of your boss’s office,mouth wide open as he fucks your face. you’re sure they must be able to hear you gagging around his length or the dirty words dripping from his lips as he ruts into your throat. he’s an utterly shameless man,the way he grabs the back of your hair and moans out what a pretty whore you are as he’s got you spread across his desk,balls deep in your dripping pussy,taunting you with that lopsided grin of his,to answer the phone that’s been ringing non stop beside your head

i’ve talked about this so much on my other blog but holy fuckkkk getting high with your best friend vernon and fooling around! like you’re just chilling in your room,lazily passing the blunt that he rolled back and forth as you watch some shitty comedy that neither of you are really interested in but you’re having the time of your life! you’ve never really noticed how gorgeous your friend actually is,sure girls and guys alike always fawn over him and he’s always telling you about who he’s pulled on nights out but the way he’s sprawled out now,eyes hooded as he takes a swig from the water bottle you’ve been sharing,you’re kind of feeling something different for him,it’s like you’re seeing him for the first time. is it the way his basketball shorts are laying so low on his hips or how his arms are flexing as he throws them behind his head…..anyway fast forward 5 minutes after a simple “hey i wanna kiss you” blurted out after you exhaled the last of the smoke in your lungs,you’re crawling into his lap,straddling him while you bring the blunt to his lips,watching how they wrap around it as he bats his lashes up at you. he’s taking absolutely no time to slip his hands under your shirt,watching through his red eyes how you bite your bottom lip when his fingers find your hard nipples. he’s pinching them and flicking them just to coax out that throaty moan he’s been dying to get out of you since the moment he met you

mingyu with his curly hair is just so puppy coded like not to go back to my hybrid!svt roots but he would make the cutest puppy boyfriend! like imagine patting down his curls while he tries to nuzzle his face into your palm,nipping at your fingers with his canines,the corners of his mouth turning up into a cheeky smile when you jokingly scold him. he’d be the worlds whiniest,clingiest thing known to man,never leaving your side! the little attention seeker would set up camp by your at home work station,chin resting on your thigh,looking up at you with those big brown eyes while you try to concentrate on the voice on the other end of the phone line. he just can’t go 5 minutes without your hands on him,he’s dragging himself across the couch just to curl up beside you,he’s wrapping your arms around him while you’re trying to cook,he’s pressing his nose behind your ear and moaning how hard he is when it’s time for bed!! he’s just so desperate for you and that’s the way you like it,he’s always so keen to be manhandled and pinched and prodded any way you see fit,you know what’s best for him of course! that’s why he wears his little collar with your initials on it with so much pride!

[heartlogan]

living to learn

✮— logan x f!mutant!reader (set in deadpool & wolverine)

✮— summary: logan mulls over all that he has lost, and all that he has found, in the void

✮— a/n: i was enabled by yall - please heed the warnings! you dont need to read pt 1 to read this!

✮— warnings: MAJOR DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE SPOILERS, major character deaths, angst, incredibly sad backstory, dead kids / teenagers, practically a genocide of mutants, suicidal ideation (from logan, kind of), reader acts as a mother figure for someone, incorrect dialogue from dp&w, a smidge of comfort, again ANGST, lmk if there’s more!

part one | masterlist

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It’s almost impossible not to linger on the things that you have lost.

And for Logan, it is impossible.

He spends every waking moment craving for the touch of somebody he lost, and he’s painfully aware that it’s all his fault. He caused the loss. And he’s the only one left to mourn you, because god knows the humans won’t.

Even for him, some two hundred years old, it’s all too painful. And he has experienced plenty of pain in his life. But this? Losing you? Losing everyone? It’s too much. So, he does what he can, he pours so much alcohol into his body that he can’t think, can’t imagine what your final moments must have been like.

But between bars, when his healing factor wears the alcohol down, it’s all he sees.

He imagines you there, surrounded by all of your loved ones except for him, unable to save them. And he can remember finding you so vividly, can remember the ashy tone your skin had taken on, all the life drained from you. He can remember exactly where he found you, in front of the doors, your dying action being to try and save the kids in the mansion. He prays to a god that he doesn’t believe in that you died before they did, because knowing that you hadn’t been able to save them would have killed you.

And the other X-Men, they died the same way. Trying to protect each other, trying to protect those kids. And perhaps the only one who knew that it was all in vain would’ve been Jean. Jean, who he found in front of the children.

Where was he?

At some bar, surrounded by humans he couldn’t care less about, all because he was selfish. All because he didn’t want anybody thinking he wanted to be part of the team. God forbid he actually care about something.

And because of his selfishness, his fear, he lost it all.

He lost you.

So when Wade said he could fix Logan’s universe, he would’ve done anything to make that happen. Anything that Wade asked for, he would’ve done. And as soon as his universe was fixed, Logan would go to you and get to his knees, he would beg for your forgiveness.

And all of that, that hope that had evaded him all those years, was for nothing. For an educated wish.

Logan couldn’t do anything but resort to his old habits, grabbing the first bottle of actual alcohol he saw, and finally numbing the image of you dead in his arms.

“There’s five of us.” Elektra told Wade, and Logan paid her no mind. Everything was futile now, pointless. He was only helping Wade to help the team, to help you, and that was likely impossible. So whatever these so-called heroes were planning, he wanted no part in it.

Logan had already secured his legacy in his universe, and it wasn’t the one you had always imagined for him. He was the Wolverine, and he was every bit of violence that name suggested. Because even though he hadn’t been able to save the X-Men, he sure as hell got his vengeance. He hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten, until every single human who was remotely involved in the blood bath at X-Mansion was dead.

You wouldn’t have been proud of his actions, true, but you were dead.

Cassandra had mentioned something about temperance, earlier, and it hadn’t taken him long to recognise that you were the anchor of his. Without you, Logan hadn’t managed any sort of self-restraint. He had slaughtered people. And he could only bring himself to regret those that hadn’t quite deserved it.

By the time the red had faded from his vision, Logan realised he had gone too far. He hadn’t just killed the ones who had murdered his friends, but anyone in connection to them, and anyone who had gotten in his way. The only reason he wasn’t arrested was because they were too afraid of him, and the only reason he hadn’t been killed was because he couldn’t fucking die.

Even the fuckers that had slaughtered the X-Men couldn’t figure out how to kill him, and that was a sick kind of irony.

“Logan, that’s who I was telling you about! X-23!” Wade said excitedly, pointing across the room at a teenage girl, who stared at him like she was seeing a ghost. From the sound of what Wade had said earlier, she probably was.

And the sight of her, for some reason, tugged at his chest. He drowned the feeling with more whiskey.

✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶⊶⊷⊶⊷❍⊶⊷⊶⊷✶

“Hey.” Laura greeted you, fidgeting with the strap of her bag as she watched you enter the back of the base, carrying a bag full of food. She seemed nervous, and you couldn’t figure out why.

“Hey, Laura, everythin’ alright?” You asked fondly, glancing at her as you started unpacking the supplies that you’d found scattered across the void.

She hesitated, glancing back through the doorway she was stood in, before focusing on you. “Yeah. Uh, I need to talk to you.” She said, sounding incredibly serious, which wasn’t unusual for her. Laura had been through so much, including everything that she had told you about her life before the void. Being here hadn’t made her life any better.

You immediately paused your actions, and turned your full attention towards the teenager across from you. You nodded for her to start.

“I was out patrolling earlier, and I found some people.” Laura said slowly, thinking her words over thoroughly before she spoke them aloud. She didn’t want to make this any worse. “I drove them here, and we’ve made a plan to attack Cassandra’s first thing. Except for one of the two, who doesn’t want to help.”

“Okay…” You said cautiously, almost confused. “This all sounds good, doesn’t it? Whoever they are, they can stay here if they want. Fill me in on the plan, and we’ll handle it.”

“It’s… okay. It’s about who they are.” She clarified finally, giving up on trying to approach the situation cautiously. “It’s a variant of him. Of Logan.”

Your chest squeezed painfully immediately, and you hand to hold a hand to your sternum to try and ease it. If it were any other situation, Laura may have made a joke about you having a heart attack, but she knew better. She knew how she had felt when she first saw the man, so she could imagine how you were feeling.

Immediately, your heart was torn between rushing to see him, and refusing to lay your eyes on the man at all. You weren’t sure you could handle seeing him, or, well, a variant of him.

It hurt too much. Every day you were reminded of how you had failed to save him, but you had to keep going, for the others in the void. Because they needed you, just as much as you needed them. Laura needed you.

She knew your pain all too well, having lost her own Logan. So you knew what she was telling you was the truth. There was really, finally, a Wolverine variant in the void.

“You okay?” Laura asked, after you had been silent for more moments than she was comfortable with. She was looking at you with such concern, and you could tell that her own heart was practically bursting in her chest from the sight of him.

“Are you?” You asked in return, eyebrows raised as you finally started to get a grip on yourself, shaking yourself from the pit of loss you had begun to get stuck in. She nodded, and you nodded yourself before pausing to think. “And this… Logan, he doesn’t want to join to Cassandra’s?”

Laura shook her head, looking down momentarily. “No. He’s… he’s as messed up as my Logan was.”

You approached her, drawing her into a silent hug. She squeezed you tightly, and the strength her mutation — Logan’s mutation — had given her wasn’t lost on you.

“Do you want me to talk to him?” You asked her quietly, and felt her nod against your shoulder. “Alright. Where is he?” You questioned, silently steeling yourself to face a copy of the man you had lost. The man you had loved.

She pointed you in the right direction, letting you go with a simple, “Good luck.” The entire walk outside, you were holding your breath, trying to prepare yourself somehow. As if this was something you would ever be able to prepare for.

And the moment you saw him, you knew it was all in vain. Because nothing could’ve prepared you for seeing him again, after all this time.

For a moment, it felt as though time was stood still, suspended.

Until he opened his mouth. “‘M not lookin’ for company.”

It was him. His familiar voice. The voice that you would’ve recognised anywhere, even after so long not having heard it. He sounded just the same as your own Logan, the same gruff tone to his voice, all grumpy expressions and furrowed brows. You could imagine it all as though your Logan was still alive, as though he was actually here. It took more than a moment for you to recall that this wasn’t your Logan.

You shuffled over to the log he sat on, the sun setting over the trees surrounding the two of you. He lifted the bottle of whiskey to his lips, glancing at you as you sat. His entire body went shock still, and he turned to look at you fully.

You smiled, and prayed he said nothing about the way your eyes became watery. “Hi, Logan.”

He said your name, sounding as though he was a mere man sat before a god, reverent. The bottle slipped from his hand as he spoke it aloud, his eyes watering immediately, his lip trembling as he looked at you like he was seeing you for the very first time.

“Are you… her?” He asked hesitantly, hand hovering halfway towards you, and you hated to be the bearer of bad news. But if you had to be conscious that he wasn’t yours, it was only fair for him to know the truth.

Reluctantly, you shook your head. “I’m sorry. I’m not your version of me, and you’re not my version of you.”

His hand fell to his lap, but he didn’t take his eyes off of you for a moment. He seemed reluctant to believe you, and you couldn’t blame him. He looked just like your version of him, grey streaks and all. But it wasn’t him, you knew, because he wasn’t coughing up blood, wasn’t actively dying in your arms.

You cleared your throat, glancing to the fire before him, watching the way the smoke curled into the slowly darkening sky. “My Logan died. I—I couldn’t save you. I’ve been here, in the void, for a year, I think.” You elaborated slightly, not wanting to overwhelm him with information. “I’d like to go home. Mourn my losses.”

He stared at you, saying nothing, fingers still outstretched where his hand lay.

“Laura said you weren’t coming with in the morning. I was hoping you might change your mind. We need your help.” You continued, trying to remain convincing despite the shake in your voice.

But that seemed to do the opposite of what you wanted, and he blinked out of the trance he had been in. He started shaking his head immediately, fingers clenching into a fist. “You got the wrong guy. I’m not… I’m not who you think I am.”

“Maybe not, but, Laura told me you were always the wrong guy, up until you weren’t. And to her, that means something. To me, too.” You said, hoping he wouldn’t pull away further than he already had. As selfish as it was, you didn’t want to lose another Logan. You wanted to see him and his friend succeed, even if you didn’t. Maybe, this time, this Logan, you could save him.

“You don’t get it.” Logan refuted, shaking his head, glancing towards the fire as the sun finally finished descending the horizon. He seemed to get lost in the blaze, and you watched his eyes become unfocused, showing him images that weren’t really there. “I failed them. My team. You.”

You stayed quiet, wondering if he was going to elaborate, or if he was too caught up in his vision.

“D’you know something’?” He asked, blinking until the fire came back into focus. “You used to beg me to wear this suit. So did Storm, Scott, Beast. All of you. And I refused, because god forbid anybody believe I wanted to be there.”

“What happened?” You asked him, wanting to reach for his hand, but knowing it wouldn’t help him get through this.

“I went out. And the humans went mutant hunting. By the time I stumbled home shit-faced from the bar… you—you were all dead. Every single mutant in that house.” He explained, his voice shaking, his lower lip trembling once again. You were almost certain he was seeing those images again, because he squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth.

A surge of sympathy shot through you. You wanted so badly to comfort him, to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but you knew he wouldn’t believe it.

“So now I wear this goddamn suit as a reminder. To remember all of you. To make sure I never forget what I did.”

You released a deep sigh, the story sounding familiar to you, in some ways. He glanced over at you, seeing somebody else for a moment. After another few seconds, you reached into your shirt and pulled out the dog tags you had been carrying with you. You turned them over in your hand, running your thumb over the inscription.

He glanced wearily at them, and you reached out, grasping his fist in your own hand and pulling it loose until you could fit the dog tags in his hand, which you then squeezed shut. “I carry these with me, for the same reason. To remind myself that I failed you. That I can’t take that back. That I have to do better, even if all I want to do is give up. You aren’t the only one who did something wrong, here. If I could fix my mistakes, I would, but I can’t. So I carry on. For Laura. For anyone who needs it. And it seems like this… Wade needs it. From you.”

His hand was splayed open, turning over the dog tags in his palm as he listened intently to you.

“Be the hero you weren’t the first time around.” You told him finally, reaching out and placing your palm in his, squeezing around the dog tags, before letting go.

You went to stand, and he stood after you, reaching out.

“I—I know you aren’t her. I know that. But can I pretend, for a minute, that you are?” He asked you, and the vulnerability of the request wasn’t lost on you. Your Logan rarely ever asked for anything, even if he desperately needed it, so you could only imagine the courage that this Logan had mustered to ask you that.

You nodded, silent.

There was a pause, and he looked into your eyes, searching for something that you didn’t know you possessed. But he seemed to find it.

“‘M sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” Logan told you at last, the apology seeming to burst from the depths of his chest. “I love you. I have loved you the whole time. I should have told you as soon as I felt it.” He confessed, and you saw the dog tags hanging from his fingers as he reached for you. And you couldn’t help yourself — you reached right back.

Your hands landed on either side of his face, so full of care, and you watched the tear run down his cheek. His own hands gripped you tightly, scared to let you go.

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, voice broken.

“It wasn’t your fault.” You told him firmly, before rushing forward, pulling him into a hug so tight you could’ve heard his metal bones creak. He buried his face in your hair, breathing you in, and held you tight. “I don’t blame you. I love you.” You said, breathing the words into his ear as though that would make him believe it. He gripped you tighter, squeezing you against him. “I love you.”

You cradled the back of his head with one hand, pressing him close, because you were just as scared to let him go. Distantly, you heard Laura call your name.

After a moment, you pulled back slightly, only to press your forehead against his for a minute. You could pretend that he was your Logan, selfishly, just for a moment more.

Laura got closer, calling out your name once more, and you pulled back to look in his eyes. “I love you.” He told you one last time, before he allowed you to pull yourself from his grasp.

You had no idea whether he would be joining your group tomorrow, but you walked away from him with an empty chest, wiping away the tears that had dared to fall during the encounter. You would leave the last of the motivational speech to Laura, who you smiled gently at as you passed her in the woods, nodding towards where Logan still stood.

Logan had gotten what he needed from you. And you, from him.

[birrdies]

'SUNBLEACHED' (1.6k words) Our collaboration piece for the Flowers in the Desert zine! writing by me (birrdies) art by @fishbloc

Sunflowers. 

Over the flat, endless plain they stretch as far as Scar can see. Roots and leaves branch like veins and arteries through the soil on the verge of something alive. The sunflowers face the limitless blue above— no beginning or end— the stretch so vast that time itself feels as inconsequential as a marble rolling around in his hand. 

Scar doesn’t understand it.

One second his feet had been on the stone where Pearl had fallen, where lightning had struck with finality, and the next he’s up to his waist in sunflowers. Each golden petal stands on edge. As if they know something he doesn’t. He reaches out to touch one of these petals; they tickle the pads of his fingers. Shy, pretty things. 

It’s quiet here and Scar isn’t sure if it’s a silence he finds comforting or damning. He thinks he should be afraid, but how can he be? It’s warm here. The earth smells of freshly fallen rain beneath his feet, despite not a single cloud in the sky above. The fresh, dewey scent that soothes him, almost convinces him that this is a good place to be. 

“You’re here,” a voice says behind him.

There, enveloped by the countless sunflowers, is Grian. His hair is pale, sunbleached, and his cheeks are pink. Everything about him has been touched by the light in some way, down to the faded red poncho draping his shoulders and the speckling of freckles across his nose bridge. 

He’s drowning in it— this light. He’s made of it. And Scar’s eyes fall to find the sunflowers around him withering and decaying quickly. The yellow petals curl and desiccate into gray husks, breaking off their buds and fluttering to the ground. They’re dying. Not by lack of sunlight, Scar realizes, but by an excess of it. Burnt to a crisp. 

And like the sun, his skin blisters. The skin of his hands and the redness slathering them have no beginning or end. Gashes and swelling bruises and split knuckles. The blood never clots, a constant red drip falling from the fingers held limp at his sides. A quiet drip, drip, drip the only sound across the windless field. Not even so much as the sound of a breath. Just that blood.  “Grian,” Scar says. “I’m here.”

He doesn’t know why. He doesn’t know why Grian’s here either. But he’s grateful he is. Their nightmare— or, had it been a dream?— ended long ago, the desert gone and buried several games past. The Grian in front of him now isn’t the Grian he’d fought with moments ago. This Grian was younger. More afraid. More capable of burning. 

“Where… where is here, exactly?” Scar asks.

Grian curls those bleeding fingers into the nearest living sunflower. As if he’s unsure whether he wants to caress it or yank it from the ground, roots and all. His face is twisted, it’s always twisted when Scar’s around. But he yearns for the days when that twist had been of wicked delight, the way green-lit eyes exploded into starbursts at the sight of their mutual destruction. 

“You won,” Grian says simply, taking a sunflower by the stem and starting to pluck the petals. One by one. “Congratulations.”

Scar falters. A victory. A bolt of lightning striking the earth, the loud thud of a gavel. It’s over Scar, he hears, a constant echo in the back of his mind. You won. Grian’s anger burns. A second petal falls.  “You’re upset.” Scar will do anything to make it stop, to untie the knot tied between Grian’s eyebrows, to take those cracked, bleeding hands in his own and mend them until the skin is whole again. To take away the pain, the regret, the guilt. 

Grian never left the desert, no matter how much he wanted to. And Scar could never go back. No matter how often he wished he could.

“This is your dream, Scar.” Grian turns his face away. “It’s been a long time coming— a victory.”

“I don’t feel like I’ve won anything,” Scar says honestly. A victory implies the heavy yet welcome weight of a crown, the fleeting yet intoxicating rush of excitement. But all Scar feels is the emptiness in his chest, the air around his crownless head. Blood on his hands that he can’t see, but knows is there all the same. The same way it stains Grian’s. 

Grian plucks a third petal. He barks a cruel laugh, but it sounds more like he’s about to cry. “How do you think I felt?”  Scar frowns. “It’s still about the desert? After all this time?” 

Grian plucks another petal. Four. It flutters to the ground to join the others, yellow petals torn and crumpled, slowly turning gray. The edge of his mouth tugs into a knife-like smile.

“I’m sorry,” he says. It’s all he can manage, though he doesn’t mean it. Nothing can make him regret that day, knelt in a cool pond with the weight of a diamond blade against the junction of his neck. The hand he used to hold onto it, digging it into his own skin— asking for it. “You deserved to win.”

“I deserved this? To be alone?” Grian throws his arms out to the sides, to the endless curvature of sunflowers drowning the both of them. Nothing to shield them from the unrelenting sun above. “Because that’s what winning means. You’re alone, Scar.” 

Scar’s heart plummets into his stomach. “You’re here.” 

“Am I?” A fifth petal. “Or do you just want me to be?” 

Scar stares at Grian, uncaring if the scalding brightness gives him sunspots, or if the pain of looking at the spoils of his own choices burns him up from the inside. You won, Scar, his voice echoes again and again in Scar’s mind, a scratched record. His fists curl up at his sides, into the black cloak sewn with lilacs and poppies along the hem. 

Is that what this is? A cruel illusion to make him realize what it truly means to be the man at the edge of the world, to be the last man standing? If this is victory— Scar grits his teeth and twists his fists into his cloak— then he doesn’t want it. He’s never wanted it. It was never about winning, it was about— 

“About what, exactly?” Grian snaps, plucking the through straight from his mind just as he does with a sixth petal. “Is it about this? Sunflowers? You can’t hide behind them forever. Not here. Not from me. Not from yourself.” 

“Stop it.”

Grian’s in front of him now, bloodied hands shoving him by his shoulders. Scar stumbles back and barely keeps himself upright. This isn’t right. This isn’t Grian— not the one he knows, not the one he needs. 

“Why aren’t you angry, Scar?” Another push. “After everything that’s happened to you. All the people that have betrayed you. All the times I left you behind.”

Scar grapples for self control, to reign in the flash of anger burning the back of his throat. “What are you trying to prove?” 

“Stop lying. For once in your life, look me in the eye and tell me you’re angry.” Grian yanks a sunflower from the ground and shoves it, decaying leaves and all, against Scar’s chest. “Tell me these are just a sham.” 

It’s on the tip of his tongue: the truth. A terrifying, bitter thing that burns crawling up the back of his throat. Because it betrays everything he’s worked so hard to build, the masks he’s sported like second skins, the confidence which he flaunts like a shield. Without it, what does he have left? He’s stripped clean, Grier’s hands against his chest burning like sweltering charcoal. Sunflower petals slip between his fingers. 

He opens his mouth to let it up, to tell the truth, and then—

The sky above him changes. Only slightly. If he had blinked he would’ve missed it. But clear as day he sees them overhead: clouds. Slowly rolling across a blue sky.  And he’s on his back, blinking spots from his eyes as breath rushes into his lungs. The air tastes fresh, crisp, like seawater. Eyes fluttering, he tries to remember what he’d just been about to say.  “Scar?” 

Eclipsing the sun beating down on him overhead, a head peers down at him. Dark, wide eyes, a slanted mouth. A sporting of freckles across dusty cheeks. 

Something knotted unravels in Scar’s chest. “Grian.” Grian’s lips wobble into an uneasy smile. He wipes sweat from his brow, and Scar catches a glimpse of his hands: dirty, packed with mud, but bloodless. “Whatcha doing down there, pal?”  Scar’s arms lie limp at his sides. He’s not sure he could move even if he tried. If he wanted to. Something about this peace is fragile, uncertain. As if simply breathing the wrong way will make the world shatter in two and send him back to that place. One wrong move and he’ll be alone again. 

“Dunno,” Scar says breathlessly. Stalks of wheat tickle his arms as the wind kicks up, ghosting over his body. A sunflower stands over him, waving in the breeze. “Appreciating the view. Clouds. They’re nice.”

“Come on.” A hand reaches out to him. “Stop trampling my wheat.” Scar has to stare at it to remember that it’s not covered in blood. That it’s just dirt from a long day tending to wheat and sunflowers. That the Grian smiling down at him is the real one. Not the one made to torment him. 

Scar reaches for that hand, allowing their palms to slot together. Grian’s skin is callused and warm. He’s there. He’s real. Scar isn’t alone.

[peppertoastuniverse]

pep reads: gojo satoru – long fics (pt.1)

Part 2

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☆ the way you love me by @peachsayshi [AO3/tumblr] [status: ongoing ◦ 29/? chapters] [smut!] [fwb!gojo] #pep's first fic she was OBSESSED with #real good good smut WITH FEELINGS

“We can stop anytime. If either one of us feels like... this ...might be too much. We stop, no questions .” “We can stop anytime,” Gojo repeated “... and nothing changes between us .” You swallowed hard at his last statement. You may not be able to read his eyes but you could hear it in his voice that he needed reassurance. “No matter what happens, we’ll still be friends...” you replied softly, “now kiss me before I change my mind.”

☆ you and me by tomodachi [AO3: ] [status: completed ◦ 5/5 chapters] [tear jerker] [eventual smut!] #pep cried #gojo just kinda loves you real hard

“Prisoners say the most comical things when their judgment comes,” you tilt your head, lifting a finger before him, “Who are you?"

--- History is written by the winners, Satoru knew this well. It was only when he lost and got sealed inside the Prison Realm he learned how to be weak and find out a long buried truth.

☆ ito by peekamatcha [AO3] [status: ongoing ◦ 48/? chapters] [super slow burn] [shinto elements] #pep DIES with every update #the TWIST in that one chapter omg

You, a former sorcerer now working as a university lecturer, were hoping to maintain your distance with the sorcerer world for an eternity to come. However, with the reappearance of an upperclassmen from a decade ago, you are forced to go on a journey which you would rather sit out of. But somebody must save humanity from the impending apocalypse and apparently the job falls on the shoulders of you two.

It would have been alright had he not been everything you didn’t want to be reminded of. And the sacrifices to be made may be more than what had been bargained for. ☆moonlight by @septembersummer [AO3/tumblr:] [status: completed ◦ 10/10 chapters] [smut!] #pep loves this AU #pep SCREAMED

Gojo Satoru is dying. And no, it's not his fault this time.

The curse which is withering Satoru into an early grave is actually the product of his great, great, great, great, great, great, great grandfather, who had a couple of sons that refused to procreate. And what does a proud, powerful man do when his sons refuse to fuck, and there won't be another heir to the clan?

He curses his own bloodline, of course.

It's only natural that he forces them through some twisted form of sorcery to become uncontrollably, violently attracted to the person they're most genetically compatible with.

It's even better that the curse creates a permanent, unbreakable bond between the two unwilling lovers. That's right, it usually takes more than one fuck to make a baby-- so, why not force them to have twelve?

Satoru wished his ancestor would be resurrected from the grave, just so that he could kill him again. That is, before Satoru inevitably dies.

He's had a good run, he thinks. Now, all he has to do is make sure you don't find out that you can fuck him back to life and try to very stupidly save him from himself.

(here's a spoiler: you do).

☆ a typical family by @literalia [AO3/tumblr] [status: completed? ◦ 32/32 chapters] [non liner narrative] [dad!gojo] #pep absolutely MELTED #slice of life #pep's gojo comfort fic

"satoru. where did you get these kids?"

or

after a six month absence, satoru shows up at your door two little kids following behind. chaos ensues.

☆ and if i cant see by hollowdonut [AO3: ] [status: unknown ◦ 26/? chapters] [slowburn] [eventual smut!] [tw: ptsd] #pep loves the reader's dynamics with gojo!

They say eyes are the window to the soul, but Gojo’s eyes are almost always hidden behind a blindfold. Even when they aren’t, you can never tell what he’s thinking.

You wonder if you should’ve taken that teaching job in Kyoto instead.

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bonus!

☆ all hail the empress! by @chuluoyi [tumblr/AO3: ] [status: unknown ◦ 1/? chapters] [smut!] #pep loves this AU #but THE END THO? OMGGG you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...

[jolapeno]

peaches n' cream

javier peña x f!reader

summary: javi brings a new fruit to enjoy at his desk...

warnings: smutish themes, mentions of smut, 100% 18+. flirting. public flirting. javi is eating fruit at his desk… an: peach won in the poll, so thank you for those who voted. a few thanks, first, all hail @pedgito for giving me nothing but fruit ideas originally. to @goodwithcheese for reasons she knows and to the lovely @thetriumphantpanda who not only named this but read it and told me it was hot. so. wc: 1.3k javi enjoys mango here (but you don't need to read to enjoy)

He’s taken it to a new extreme.

Using an intended (and conscious) choice of undoing, letting it move it around his palm. Allowing half of it to slightly roll in his large hand, while his other hand stubs out his lit cigarette, its smoky tendrils dying with its end.

Somehow, the entire time, he's able to converse normally with Steve. Not allowing his gaze to flicker to you as you pretend to assess the open case file.

You're failing. More feigning, faking. Choosing to do the utmost to show you're unaffected.

But you can hear it, that nickname.

The one he’d chosen, selected, picked. Breathed it into your ear one night, then panted and hissed it; layered it against your sweat-smeared skin while the air is stained with sex. If you think hard enough, you can feel his fingers at the base of your neck even now. Recalling easily how full, practically stuffed with him you can be when his cock slides into you, how he makes you stretch, how he makes you moan—

Swallowing, you draw a circle on the paper with your pencil. Tapping the lead. Focusing on it. Attempting to find a beat to drown out whatever other thoughts your brain wishes to conjure, when your ears tune into it.

That bite.

The noise of his teeth sinking into the skin of it; the sound of the sweetness oozing from his chosen fruit today. And it forces your eyes up. Them flicking, chin still dipped, as you unknowingly glare—head wanting to shake, to plead.

Because this game had begun so innocently, but now is anything but.

Every few days, he’d try a different fruit—something to undo you. To make you watch, force your gaze to land on him, his own attempt at torture until he managed to slide his hand between your thighs in the file room, the small kitchen, and see if he’s earned a similar effect as the mango.

Today, your body will confirm he’s ruining you.

Although, you’re not sure it had been a fair fight. Not with it being close to eight days since the last time you’d had him alone. A thing your body was distinctly aware of. Reacting instantly to the scent of his aftershave. That was without the sound of his voice, all intentionally velvet, smooth when he addressed you—making a patch appear in your underwear just from the way he'd whispered it.

He'd given you an out when he'd been as early as you. Offered the chance at a great morning. A thing you'd smirked at, told him he needed to work harder if he wanted to have you bent over at work.

You suppose you've brought this on yourself. Shouldn't have dared him, shouldn't have pushed. Shouldn't have laughed when he'd gritted his jaw and dug the base of his palm into his eye and added, aw, you been missing me, Peña?

Because now you're on the edge, wound up, back close to snapping from how desperate you feel to have his hand, his tongue, his cock. Feeling taut, twisted up, so much so that the sound of chair legs scraping on the floor grates through you. Making you jump, causing your heart to hammer against your ribs.

It’s all you can do to focus on tapping the lead against the page, leaving dots of frustration along crisp white, trying not to look, nearly succeeding, until Steve speaks again:

“There a reason y’got a peach today, Jav?”

Your gaze snaps up, attention commanded. The elephant in the room called out, acknowledged. Breath held as this silent game becomes no longer that. Your throat dries, eyes caught on the beads of peach juice that are skating down his fingers—ones you know intimately. Practically able to conjure the feeling of how they curl inside of you as you sit, clenching around nothing, shifting, twisting in your chair to cross a leg over the other as you remain very much bothered, very much aroused.

Blinking back into the room, you realise it’s just the two of you.

A dread filling, flooding your gut. Because you’re not sure how long you can hold it together, so close to asking, to begging. Expressing how needy you are, just like he said you would be when he’d bid you goodbye before he’d had to follow a lead.

You despise letting him win.

Prefer the way you keep your cards close to your chest. But, you suspect he knows, can read how your breath is harder to find again, that is sounds louder—if that’s at all possible as you watch him smile.

Leaning back, finishing one half of the fruit, the chair groans in the quiet as he rolls his hips, lifting his leg, resting his ankle on his opposite knee. Dragging, sliding his eyes up and down what he can see of you from behind your desk.

“Don’t.”

Swiping his thumb across his lower lip, eyes glowering with something unreadable. “Keep your eyes on me, hermosa.”

“Stop it.”

“Watch.”

And you do.

Unable to break your gaze. Following, practically forced to as he picks up the second half, eyes snapping to his other middle finger as he raises it, before he drags it along the centre of the fruit. Sliding it against where the pit was, intention there, clear as fucking day. It causes your hips to move on instinct as juice is forced up from the pressure, making your mouth fall open, drop, hanging. It just opens, feeling as dumb as you likely look as you press your thighs together even more intensely.

Then, he repeats the movement. And again, and again—

“Peña.”

He makes a noise, sliding two fingers into his mouth, tongue swirling around it. “Fuck,” he groans, head bent, eyes wide, large and brown, staring into you, “Almost tastes as good as you, Peach.”

You swallow. A retort dying, wilting.

It never quite appears. And even if it did, he’d have robbed it with his next step, his next move.

Dragging the tip of his tongue along the centre of the fruit, where the pit had been, his eyes on you—brown, practically filled and brimming with lust. The act and look so reminiscent of when he’s between your legs, you know it’s intentional. A message, one only you can understand. Your mind remembers those times when your fingers are grasping at his bed sheets and his name leaves like a cry from your lips.

“Don’t call me that.”

“What, Peach?”

Leaning forward, elbows to your desk, you dig them in until it hurts.

Trying to keep yourself in control, in check—not wanting to stand because you’d be over there. Skirt hiked in your fingers, showing him the evidence of what he’s done, the concrete proof, before taking a seat on him, test to see how much of you can feel through his choice of pants today.

“Yes,” you hiss from between your teeth.

Elongating it, making the S’s almost roll as you almost plead with him with your eyes.

“Not like your nickname?”

“You know I do, Peña.”

Dragging his mouth against the fruit, you whine—somewhere in the back of your throat. Seeing the tip of his nose catching it, bits of peach lifting with his tongue as you try to clamp your mouth shut.

Until he repeats the motion, mouth fully latched to the fruit as he makes a noise so similar to the one he does when his mouth is on your pussy. When he’s devouring; when he’s trying to write out his name with his tongue as though he doesn’t own you.

As though you haven’t belonged to him for months now.

Your palms slam on the desk, finding yourself standing. Legs shaking, trembling. His face blanking, mouth detaching from the halved peach as lines crinkle across his forehead, eyes softer, apologies almost ready to appear.

“File room. Now.”

The look on his face is gone in a flash, forehead smoothing, lips curling into a smirk.

Not arguing, not demanding you sit. Be tormented more.

Instead, throwing the half-enjoyed fruit into the trash can as he swings his legs out from under the desk, striding behind you, heeled boots sounding for several steps before you feel his fingers pressing onto your lower back.