#and they probably played a part in that too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sceletaflores · 2 days

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come on and show me a little bit of spine!

pair: logan howlett x mutant!fem!reader

wc: 5.5k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, drinking, smoking, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex, public sex (alleyway hehe), biting, blood but not blood play, pain kink, scent kink, a special guest (!!!), jealous logan muahahaha, emotional constipation but like wtf is new, nat probably blatantly ignoring canon, probably ooc logan and friends sorry i'm just a girl, porn w/ plot (a little???), no use of y/n.

author’s note: HAHA BACK ON MY LOGAN BULLSHIT! who’s laughing? not me. i can’t stop writing for him it’s insane and selfish i know i know i’m sorry. bee tee dubs this is part two to all’s fair in love and viscera cus i couldn't get them out of my head so...kisses!

five x-men walk into a bar, only three walk out…

All men are the same. X-gene or no x-gene, they're all immature pigs.

You've come to find that it's more than just skin deep. If you took a knife to every man in this bar, you'd surely find the exact same little metaphorical mass of arrogance ingrained in every single one of them once all the layers are peeled back far enough.

And that's what Logan is, a man.

A stubborn, arrogant, mind-numbingly frustrating man who's convinced he could never be wrong just because he's had a little more time than normal to perfect the art of being completely insufferable.

No adamantium skeleton or foot long claws of death can change that.

You could set him on fire, drown him, watch him regenerate from a single cell, and nothing would change.

So, in hindsight, you really should have seen this coming.

It was Ororo's idea to go out, insisting the team needed it. A casual night at the bar across town to raise bravado after a few close call missions.

It sounded fun at the time, and for the first thirty minutes it was.

Getting to shed your hero skin for a few hours every so often is always nice, and you love your team. Love getting to just sit and live with them. You hardly get nights like this anymore, filled with playing pool and darts like people do.

That being said, you were reaching the top of your limit. Fast.

It started at the bartop, with Logan sauntering up next to you for the first time tonight.

He slid into the empty seat to your left, leaned against the bar casually, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. His lips tugged into that half-smirk he wore that night in the training room.

“You avoiding me?” he asks, voice low, bent down just enough to speak directly into your ear. "Haven't seen you all night."

You almost scoffed, almost turned to face him so he could see the look of irate disbelief on your face. Almost, but you didn't want to give him the extra attention.

"I could ask you the same thing."

You didn't miss how things had changed between the two of you after your night in the training room. Something shifted, and not in the romantic 'so...what are we now?' territory.

It shifted into Logan disappearing, closing himself off. He didn't go out of his way to avoid you, didn't even go as far as ignoring your existence entirely. He didn't need to, you knew it was different.

He refused to talk about it, refused to even acknowledge it, completely shutting you down the one time you tried bringing it up.

It stung. The feeling of rejection, especially after that night. You felt like you bared a part of your soul to Logan on that dark blue training mat. You swore you saw something different in his eyes too, a subtle shift, something that said this ran deeper than just a messy fuck between friends.

It played on your mind like a loop, every detail. You nitpicked almost every single thing you did, searched your mind for what you could have done that scared him off.

It has to be you, it always is.

It took a week to get over it. A week to wash away the feeling of Logan's hands on your body, of his lips on yours, of his cock carving a space for itself in your cunt, of his blood sliding down your throat and slicking the palms of your hands.

Eventually, that sadness gave way to self-reflection. Self-reflection gave way to anger, and now you're just plain pissed.

This has nothing to do with you.

Logan is a grown man, not a goddamn baby. He should know how to communicate by now, should take the stick out of his ass and drop the whole 'I'm no good for you baby' martyr cross he's carried around for over a century and talk to you.

But if he wants to be alone to sulk in self pity and sorrow for two hundred more years, you'll let him.

Logan's smirk falters, his expression falling with a heavy sigh. He leans back, one boot moving to rest on the rung of your stool. "You really want to do this here?"

"You came up to me," you shrug, finally turning to face him. The warm glow of the bar lights catch the edges of your frustration. "If you’re here to talk, then talk."

Logan doesn't respond, just meets your gaze with a raised brow. His eyes scan over your face slowly, taking in the pinch between your brows and the stern look in your eyes.

"Trouble in paradise?"

Scott's voice pierces through the tense air between you. His tone is casual in a way that's undermined by the smug smile turning the corner of his mouth up. It's too knowing, like he'd been listening in before.

Logan's brows pinch together in irritation the same way they always do when Scott talks, but he holds your gaze. His silence is infuriating because it's the same old routine—he just stares, brooding, like he’s waiting for the problem to magically solve itself without ever opening his damn mouth.

It makes your blood simmer just under the surface, the tips of your fingers burning with it.

You grind your teeth, balling your hands into fists where they sit on the bar. "Scott," you say, not breaking eye contact with Logan, "go play fetch or something."

Scott raises his hands in mock surrender, but you know he won’t leave without a parting shot. “Just looking out for you, you know. Can’t afford you two tearing each other apart over a little lovers spat before the night’s even over.”

As he saunters off, you turn your full attention back to Logan, who’s still studying you with that infuriating intensity. It’s as if he’s trying to decode some secret language written across your face.

You almost want to laugh at how predictable he is, how he thinks he can just sit there, unbothered, while you’re ready to explode.

“Are you really just going to sit there?” you challenge, leaning closer, daring him to respond. “You can’t keep dodging this forever, Logan. You think I’m the only one feeling this? We were both there that night."

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, you think you see the flicker of vulnerability beneath the gruff exterior. But then it’s gone, replaced by that stubborn wall he always puts up.

“I don’t need to talk about it,” he mutters, his voice low, but there’s an edge of desperation that catches your attention. “What’s done is done.”

“‘What’s done is done’?” You can’t help the incredulous laugh that escapes you. “Is that your new catch phrase? They gonna start printing that on the front of your action figure's box?"

Logan's brows furrow deeper, his mouth turning down in a hard frown. "Watch it," he warns tersely, the edge of a snarl on his lips.

You lean forward, desperate to get anything out of him. "Or what?"

The bar buzzes around you, laughter and music blending into a distant hum, but all you can focus on is him—the way his eyes flare with that familiar spark of rebellion, how handsome he looks under the bar's dim lights, the way his smell is starting to warm your insides despite how mad you are.

You raise your brow, waiting, hoping. He stays silent.

That's it.

You stand abruptly, causing your stool to scrape against the floor loudly. Logan straightens, eyes narrowing as he watches you, but you’re more than done with all of this. You've had enough.

"I'm going for some air." you say evenly, slipping your jacket off the back of your chair. "Don't follow me."

You turn and walk away before Logan can answer, heading in the direction of the bar's alley door.

You try your best to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach, the first tendrils of dread wrapping themselves around you tighter with every step. Your eyes burn embarrassingly each time you blink, but you refuse to cry.

You’re emotionally spiraling a couple feet from the door when someone suddenly steps in front of you, and you crash into them.

“So sorry, ma’am,” A familiar voice says from somewhere in front of you as two strong hands grip your waist to steady you. “Completely my fault, I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

You crane your head up, eyes dragging from the blue gingham button down stretched over impressive muscle until they land on a pair of blue eyes and blonde head of hair you recognize.

“Steve?”

Steve Rogers smiles down at you, his hands still lightly resting on your waist. His expression is soft, apologetic, and a little surprised. Your name falls from his lips in a warm greeting, his hands lingering for a second longer before he drops them and takes a small step back.

“I’m surprised you still remember me. It’s been a while,” he says with the same boyish charm you remember, like he hadn’t just watched you nearly barge through the door like it owed you money. “How’ve you been?”

You blink up at Steve, the frustration from your situation with Logan still fresh, swirling through your system like a storm.

How’ve you been?

What a loaded question.

“Better,” you answer with a tight smile, barely convincing yourself. “Just tired. We’ve been so busy recently, you know how it is.”

Steve gives you a searching look, his eyes skimming your face with the kind of care that makes you want to shrink into yourself. His brow furrows slightly, concern flickering in those crystal-clear eyes of his as he studies your face.

"Are you okay?" he asks, genuinely, like he’s already picked up on the fact that something’s off.

How could you forget, he’s got the emotional radar of a saint. Lucky you.

"Yeah, sure," you lie, adjusting your jacket and pointedly avoiding the obvious upset that’s probably plastered across your face. You force a smile, hoping he buys it. "Just needed some air. This place is packed."

The furrow of Steve’s brows deepen, his lips pressing into a thin line like he doesn’t believe you. You feel worse under the intense pressure of his knowing stare, like a bug trapped under a magnifying glass.

You’re about to say something—anything—to fill the awkward silence, but then you feel it. That heavy, unmistakable presence at your back.

Of course he didn’t listen.

Steve’s eyes flick over your shoulder, and you don’t even have to turn around to know Logan’s right there, brooding like a dark cloud about to burst. You can practically feel the tension rolling off him in waves as one strong arm slides underneath the thick denim of your jacket and around your waist.

“Cap,” Logan’s clipped voice greets from somewhere behind you, laced with barely concealed irritation as his fingers dig into the cotton of your shirt, staking some sort of unspoken claim.

Steve gives Logan a respectful nod, though his expression remains calm, measured, the same quiet authority he always carries. “Logan,” he greets, smile faltering for the second it takes him to drop his eyes to Logan’s arm. “Nice to see you doing well.”

Logan hums noncommittally, you feel the rumble of it against your back. “Didn’t think this was your scene,” he says to Steve, brow cocked in suspicion.

Steve shakes his head, a small laugh falling from his lips. “It’s not, usually. I got strong armed into joining a few friends.”

“Right,” Logan replies, tone flat like Steve would have a reason to lie.

You can almost see the tension thickening in the air, an electric pulse that shoots straight through you. Logan’s grip tightens subtly, an instinctive reaction to Steve’s presence, but you can feel the subtle heat rising, the way your heart races under his touch despite yourself.

It’s infuriating, and for a second, you’re tempted to dive right into it, to unearth the chaos lurking beneath that chiseled exterior. But then you remember where you are, why you walked away from Logan in the first place—how public it is, how many eyes are on you.

“Steve and I worked together, a base infiltration in Albany a few years ago.” You cut in, shooting Logan a look over your shoulder, like a sharp glare alone could get him to calm down, if only for a second. But he just meets your gaze with that familiar stubbornness, eyes dark and unyielding.

It’s infuriating, and for a moment, you’re tempted to dive right into it, to unearth the chaos lurking beneath that chiseled exterior. But then you remember where you are—how public it is, how many eyes are on you.

“Feels like a lifetime ago,” Steve says, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

And it does.

You think of Kevlar squeezed around your ribs, of explosions and buildings falling and the smell of gunpowder.

"Yeah, it does," you reply, ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach and forcing a smile.

“God, you look…” His gaze rakes over you like he can’t help it, the bright blue of his eyes trailing from your face down your legs and back up all over again. You can feel Logan bristle next to you.

”You look amazing,” Steve finishes with a small shake of his head, million dollar smile still pulling up the corners of his mouth. “Buy you a drink?”

“We were just leavin’, Cap,” Logan cuts in tersely, his arm tightening around your waist even more. His grip is possessive, but it’s not affectionate—it’s an unsaid challenge, a warning. “Calling it an early night.”

You whip your head around, confusion evident on your face. "We?" you parrot back, the word hanging in the air like a challenge of its own. “We haven’t decided anything.”

Logan’s jaw tightens, that familiar stubbornness rearing its head again. His hand splays flat over the span of your lower back, pushing just enough for you to feel the power behind it but not enough to really move you. “Let’s go.”

You look at Steve, then Logan, then the crowded bar, then the door to the alley, and repeat.

It should be an easy answer, an easy way out of going in circles with Logan even more than you already have.

But you find yourself stuck, feet rooted to the floor as your mind races with a hundred different thoughts in the span of a second.

Your lips part, and you’re not even sure what you’re going to say, when Steve beats you to the punch.

"She can decide for herself," he says evenly, though there's a subtle shift in his tone. It’s calm, but there’s a steely edge to it, like a well-honed blade concealed beneath all the politeness. He’s still smiling, but it’s less soft now, more hardened around the edges.

Logan’s grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging in like he's daring Steve to push the envelope any further. “Yeah? Don’t think she needs you speakin’ for her, either.”

"Enough," you snap, stepping out of Logan’s hold with a sharp turn, your voice cutting through the growing storm between them. You turn to him with a hard look, brows pinched in anger. "Fine, let's go."

Your smile feels strained, the edges sharp and jagged as you face Steve, the weight of Logan’s presence at your back heavy and suffocating. “It was great seeing you, Steve. Really.”

Your voice sounds strained even to your own ears.

“We’ll have to catch up some other time,” you add, though the words taste bittersweet on your tongue.

You can tell he wants to say something, his smile completely dropping as his eyes flit between you and Logan a few times. You give him a pleading look, a reassuring nod that you’ve got this.

Steve hesitates, you can see the gears turning in his mind, weighing the situation and trying to gauge the tension in the air. But ultimately, he nods, offering you one last smile that’s laced with concern.

“Absolutely,” he says, his voice warm despite the tension hanging in the air. “I’d love to. Just let me know when.”

With one last nod to Logan, he turns and walks away to meld into the crowd until you can’t make out the blue of his shirt anymore.

You don’t turn to Logan as you finally walk out the door. The clunk of his boots follow you the whole way out.

As soon as you’re outside, all the anger sets in at once, burning hot in your stomach as you spin around to face him. The fresh air hits your face like a slap, cool and bracing, but it does nothing to quell the fire simmering inside you.

"You really can't leave well enough alone, can you?" You snap, folding your arms defensively. “You just had to go and stake your territory?”

Logan’s face hardens, his eyes dark under the dim streetlight. “What do you expect me to do? Let you walk away and get buttered up Rogers while I sit at the bar with my dick in my hand?”

“Steve wasn’t doing anything!” You exclaim, frustration seeping into your every word. “He was just being nice, we’re friends.”

Logan lets out a disbelieving snort, shaking his head hard enough that his hair sways with it. “Nothin’ about that was friendly, kid. You’d have to be fuckin’ blind to not see that.”

You huff, turning your eyes to the sky in exasperation. “Why do you care?” you fire back, heart racing at the challenge. “We’re not together! You’ve made that more than clear!”

Now that the seal is broken, it’s like you can’t stop. Words fall out of your mouth faster than your mind can keep up, all the pent up frustration you’ve felt over the past few weeks boiling over.

“You’re the one that’s acting like nothing happened!” You throw your hands up in exasperation, your voice rising with every word. “You’re the one who disappeared, who’s been avoiding this whole thing like it didn’t mean anything!”

He growls, stepping closer, his presence looming. "You think I don’t know that, kid? You think I haven’t been dealing with this shit—with us?"

"Well, you sure as hell don’t act like it! You don’t talk about it. You don’t even try! You just stand there and expect me to what? Read your mind?”

For a split second, Logan’s expression falters, his shoulders stiffening as if your words struck a nerve. But just as quickly, the mask falls back into place. "I’m no good for you, kid. And you know it. I’m doing you a favor."

"There it is again!" You bark out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. "The martyr complex. You’ve been alive for over a century, Logan. You’ve got time on your side, and you still can’t figure out how to be a decent human being in a relationship?”

He flinches slightly, but his eyes remain locked on yours, anger and frustration swirling behind them. "It’s not that simple."

“Of course it is!" You step forward, closing the gap between you. "You just don’t want to do the hard work. You don’t want to open up, to be vulnerable, because then you’d actually have to face yourself. And God forbid Wolverine confronts something he can’t claw his way out of.”

Logan’s jaw clenches, his eyes blazing, and for a long beat, the two of you stand in a tense, electrified silence. The world around you seems to fall away—no bar, no missions, no X-Men—just the two of you, standing in the alley, raw and exposed.

You don’t know who moves first, you or Logan, before you can register it, the distance between you disappears, swallowed by the pull of all that unresolved tension.

His lips claim yours, fierce and urgent, as if this was the only language he’s fluent in—raw emotion, violent passion. His hands find your waist again, gripping tight, pulling you flush against him.

The kiss is messy, desperate, a collision of teeth and tongues, but it’s exactly what you expected. It’s how you and Logan have always been—no finesse, just fire and stubborn intensity. It’s the only way he knows how to communicate, the only way he can let go, even for a second.

Your hands slide up into his hair, yanking roughly as a guttural growl vibrates from his chest into your mouth. You feel the heat of his skin, the coiled tension in his muscles, and it ignites something wild inside you.

The anger hasn’t left—it’s just morphed into something darker, something hungrier.

The kiss is nothing like the ones from that night in the training room. This one is full of anger and frustration, all the emotions that have been simmering between you two finally bubbling over in an explosive release. His lips are hard, demanding, and the taste of whiskey lingers faintly on his breath, mixing with the metallic scent of the alley.

You push back just as fiercely, your hands tangled in his hair as you try to pour all of your hurt, your confusion, and your pent-up rage into that single kiss. For a moment, it’s all- consuming—hot, reckless, like trying to catch fire in your hands.

“You’re such a fuckin’ punk,” he grates against your lips, kneading the meat of your hips roughly like he’s trying to anchor himself to you. His teeth scrape your bottom lip, his growl vibrating through you like a warning shot, but it only spurs you on.

"You’re one to talk,” you bite back, the heat between you both as volatile as ever.

You drop your hands to his chest, gripping the leather of his jacket in your fists and yanking him closer until there's no space left, until it's hard to tell where the anger ends and the need begins.

Logan growls, the sound reverberating deep in his chest, as his hands move up your back, possessive and rough. “You keep pushin' me, kid. You really wanna see how far I’ll go?"

"Maybe I do," you shoot back, biting down lightly on his lower lip. You taste the blood—his blood—and something primal stirs in you. His healing factor kicks in almost instantly, but the heat between you spikes with the sharp tang of it. It always does.

Logan hisses sharply, tongue swiping over the blood still dotted along his lip before he’s pushing you backwards.

You have no choice but to move with him, blindly stumbling back a few steps until your shoulders hit the wall of the bar. His lips attached to your neck the whole way, teeth nipping at the rapid flutter of your pulse.

It’s like a wildfire spreading between you, all heat and destruction, and the alley around you seems to fade into the background, leaving nothing but the chaotic mess of you and Logan.

You consider the risks of fucking Logan in an alleyway for all of two seconds, every single warning bell in your mind going silent when his hands tighten their hold on your hips to spin your around, pushing you up against the brick roughly.

“Fine,” he concedes, yanking the fabric of your skirt up hard enough you hear a tiny rip. “I’ll give you what you want, princess.”

The sound of his zipper being tugged down might as well be a gunshot with how loudly it reverberates through your mind. Your thighs slide together slickly, aching cunt clenching in anticipation.

The soft sound of Logan pushing his jeans down is the only warning you get before the thick head of his cock is sliding over the wetness staining the fabric of your panties.

“This what you wanted?” he asks, hooking his fingers into the lace to tug it aside and slip the length of himself through your slick folds. “You need a cock in your hungry pussy to feel better?” He lines himself up with your fluttering entrance, pushing gently until the very tip slips in.

Your lips fall open, brow furrowing as he starts feeding you his length one infuriating inch at a time.

Anger still warms your gut, but you find yourself nodding wordlessly. Tiny, desperate sounds escaping your throat the deeper he sinks in.

The stretch of him is almost too much, like he’s splitting you in two. It’s the kind of sting that just barely toes the line of pain and pleasure in the best way. It has you crying out when he finally bottoms out, pressing your forehead against the brick to try and ground yourself.

Logan’s considerate enough to keep still, thumbs rubbing soothing circles over the skin of your hips as you adjust.

“God,” you groan, shifting your hips enough to feel the way his cock rubs along your walls. The burn starts to melt away into pure pleasure with every grind.

“That’s it, baby,” Logan goads, hands still planted on your hips as you start to bounce on his cock in earnest. “Write your name on this cock, tell everyone who it belongs to.”

His words just spur you on, a high whine falling from your lips as you set a steady rhythm. The slap of skin on skin getting louder, echoing around you lewdly.

“Mm, feels good huh?” he hums, pressing a sweet kiss to your shoulder.

You barely choke out a garbled ‘yes’, thighs starting to shake with the effort of thrusting yourself back.

“Sorry,” he says, gripping the meat of your hips to pull you back against his cock roughly. “What was that?”

“Yes!” you mewl, cheeks burning. The anger steadily drains from your body the closer you get to come, until it's an afterthought just present enough in your mind to still matter. “Feels so good, please Logan…”

Logan groans under his breath, pulling his hips back back back until he’s reaming forward. He thrusts once, twice, three times before he’s taking over. Big hands anchored to your hips to drag you back on every snap of his hips.

Your entire body lights up, the pathetic noises passing through slack your lips barely register over the white noise rushing through your ears. Logan’s fucking you like he wants to break you, heavy hips pounding into the meat of your ass like an animal. The slap of it stinging your skin only for him to pull out and leave you empty before filling you again.

You go pliant in his grip, a high moan escaping you as he expertly hits that spongy spot inside of you that has heat pooling in your gut.

“God, I missed this,” he admits into your hair, one hand sliding around to press against your lower stomach. Logan’s hand is massive and blisteringly hot over your skin, cupping and feeling where he punches up into you with every thrust from the outside.

“Fuck, baby,” he growls, pressing his forehead to your back desperately. “Do you feel that? Feel how deep I am inside of you? Gonna fuckin’ fill you up, stuff you so full you’ll be leaking for weeks.”

“Logan,” you gasp, heat coiling in your belly.

“I know,” he breathes, hips speeding up impossibly faster. “I got you, honey.”

You turn your head, the skin of your cheek scraping over the rough bring with every hard snap of his hips. The thick muscle of his forearm fills your eye line, strong and tan where it cages you to the bar. You swear you can see the blood pumping through his veins. Your stomach jerks with need, your mind buzzing.

Without thinking, you lean forward and bury your teeth in the muscle there. The coppery tang of blood on your tongue sends you reeling, a deep groan rumbling through your chest.

“Fuck!” Logan exclaims, giving one last thrust before he’s burying himself as far as he can. His cock throbs, pulsing as he unloads inside you. Rope after rope of come paints the shaking walls of your cunt, slicking the thrust of his that much more.

Pleasure goes off in sparks all up your spine, lighting up every vertebrae until the fireworks go off in your brain. Your hands claw at the wall desperately, eyes screwing shut as you fly over the edge.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as you come, hands digging into the brick hard enough that it cracks and crumbles beneath them, falling to your feet in little rock’s.

Everything around you fizzles out into nothing, just a dull hum cocooning you in this moment, and for just a second it’s like you're floating.

The heave of Logan’s chest against your back and his lips on your neck only add to that far away feeling, nice enough that has you leaning into the warmth of his body.

A car horn blaring somewhere in the distance jerks you out of any warm, fuzzy feelings and deposits you back in the real world. Your eyes refocus on the building in front of you, and a displeased groan rips from your chest.

“I made a mess,” you murmur quietly, looking at the two matching dents in the bar's wall and the same red powder staining your hands.

Logan huffs into the sweaty skin of your neck, an amused noise. “That’s alright,” he says, barely out of breath. He pulls out just enough to let his come start leaking out around his dick, sliding down the length of him in thick rivers of white. “So I did.”

You scoff, shaking your head in disgust as he steps away with a snort. Your voice is breathy and small when you speak, “You’re disgusting.”

It's quiet for a long time, both you and Logan dressing yourselves in silence. The thrum of traffic around you mixed with the muffled music bleeding through the wall is the only noise filling the space.

You drag your eyes to him, watching as he yanks up his jean’s zipper while you smooth your skirt down.

“I told you not to follow me. When we were back inside,” you say, voice steadier than before but just as breathless.

Logan meets your eyes, and there’s a pause. For a second, you think maybe he’ll turn around and leave, run away to try and forget this too. Instead, you hear his boots scrape against the gravel as he steps closer.

"I don't take orders well, remember?" His voice is gravelly, like he’s chewing on the words before spitting them out.

"Obviously," you huff under your breath, a humorless laugh shaking your shoulders slightly.

Logan’s lips quirk into a tiny, almost imperceptible smile, but it fades just as quickly.

He takes another step closer, close enough now that you can feel the warmth radiating off him again, his presence as heavy as ever. But this time, there’s something different.

He looks drained. Not physically, but emotionally. Worn down in a way you’ve never seen.

“I’m not good at this,” he admits quietly, his voice tired. “You know that.”

You raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck in that rare, almost vulnerable way he does when he’s out of his element. Finally, he meets your gaze.

“I’m…" he trails off, mouth pulling into a wince like it physically pains him to apologize. "I’m sorry…”

“Wow,” you say slowly, head tilting to the side as you study him. “That was the worst apology I’ve ever gotten.”

Logan narrows his eyes at you, a mix of irritation and reluctant amusement flickering across his face. “You gonna let me talk?” he asks curtly, but there’s no real bite to it.

You sigh, nodding your head for him to continue.

He shifts his weight, a heavy sigh falling from his lips. “I know I’ve been a stubborn ass. I’m used to keeping everyone at arm’s length. It’s safer that way. I’ve lost too many people to just let someone in without a fight.”

His voice drops, laced with a vulnerability you rarely see. “I thought if I just stayed away, it would make things easier for you. I’m not relationship material, kid. I can’t be that guy for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

He shakes his head, his shoulders slumping in more as he talks. “I’m a damn mess, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I do. A lot. It just scares the hell out of me.”

For a moment, you’re unsure how to respond. Part of you wants to lash out more, to keep the anger burning because it feels safer than the vulnerability you’re feeling now.

On the other hand, for the first time tonight, you see the man behind the adamantium, behind the claws and the gruff exterior. The man behind the Wolverine.

You only see Logan, who’s lived through centuries of loss and pain, who’s learned to build walls so thick even he can’t break through them sometimes.

And damn it, you hate how much you still care. You hate that, even after everything, Logan is the one person who can make you feel like this—angry, frustrated, and vulnerable all at once. But you can’t deny the truth any longer.

Because underneath all the anger and hurt, there’s still that spark. That stupid, stubborn spark that refuses to go out.

You take a step closer, your hand gently reaching for his. “You don’t have to be anything, Logan. You just have to try. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

He nods, a slow, deliberate movement. Taking a slow set closer to you, he takes your cheek in his hand. The bright red rawness of your skin is slowly draining, tiny cuts knitting themselves together. “I can do that.”

He slides his thumb across your cheekbone and somehow, you believe him.

It’s not perfect. It’s not a promise that everything’s going to magically be okay. But it’s a start.

Maybe that’s enough.

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yoonia · 1 day

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blooming wallflowers (m) | knj

⟶ Summary | Your life has been in shambles with only your two sweet girls keeping you strong enough to carry on. It has been a while since the flame of desire you once had within you dim into almost nothing, until the man who spends his life fighting against arson comes into your life (and your two little girls’) only to help light up that fire once again

⟶ Title | Blooming Wallflowers ⟶ Pairings | Kim Namjoon x older female reader ⟶ Genre | Firefighter!Namjoon, Single mother!reader, Smut, Angst ⟶ Word count | 20,800 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; allusions of past/toxic relationships, healing, usage of alcohol and drinking, dealing with insecurities, age gap with older female reader (OC is in her mid-30s), trapped in confined spaces; contains explicit smut scenes, including: sexual tension, dirty talk, light restraint, soft dom!Namjoon, switching positions and roles (OC taking control at some point), clothed foreplay, grinding, dry humping, thigh riding, implied body worship, breasts play, fingering, clit play, pussy slapping, riding, grinding, semi-public sex (does dining room count?), pet names, groping, biting, edging, oral sex (female receiving), minor hand-job, panty ripping, clit biting, panty sniffing, praise kink, hair pulling, rough sex, protective sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, overstimulation. ⟶ Author’s Note | Written as a commission for @KimCheeHoo | I’m so sorry this took me forever to finish. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. I hope you’ll enjoy this story. Have fun reading! ⟶ Story Note 1 | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story has POV switches, and this is roughly edited, so forgive me for any mistakes. Banner design made by me, age warning divider by @/cafekitsune | Posted in: September 25th, 2024 by @yoonia

⟶ Also written as part of the @bangtanwritershq “Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?” Third Quarter 2024 writing event! ⟡ AU type: Hold Me Tight - Dilf/Milf AU ⟡ Themes: Age Gap, Situationship ⟡ Inclusions: Edging, Fingering, Angst/Hurt, Restraints

On some days, you would feel like you are finally getting your shit together.

But today is not one of those days.

“Mommy! Hana is trying to bite me!” You hear your oldest whine as she hugs the pancake batter box to her chest. Shaking your head, you can only guess that her sister has been trying to take that box away from her hands.

“No, I did not!” Hana, your youngest daughter argues back, “Mommy, Suzy won’t let me use the scanning thingy.”

Suzy narrows her eyes and scoffs. She has been doing this expression a lot lately. It took you weeks after you first saw her making such an expression to figure out that she had somehow gotten it from you. Hana’s new biting habit, however, is something that you have yet to figure out how and when it started.

“You’re such a baby,” Suzy says, rolling her eyes, which only riles up her sister more.

“I am not!”

“Yes, you are. That’s why you can’t do this. Babies don’t do what grown-ups do.”

Sullen, Hana props her hands on her hips and lifts her chin, as if it would make her look bigger against her sister while whining, “But you’re not a grown-up too!”

Watching them go at each other, you cannot decide whether you want to laugh or cry.

Hana’s attitude reminds you of someone. You, perhaps, no doubt as the only role model she currently has to copy some of that sassy attitude from. You probably should feel embarrassed—deep down, you do, you are somewhere in public, after all—as the girls continue fighting, their voices loud enough to draw some attention, with the addition of being super dramatic about it.

Only for them to have a turn at helping you with the self-checkout counter.

You know the reason why you cannot find it in you to be mad at them. Not when the girls are showing you that they are the perfect carbon copy of you—not that you are the kind to have a tantrum in the middle of the supermarket, at least not at this age—and when they are always full of surprises. And you cannot deny that they are so stinking cute.

Suzy, the bigger one out of the two, is mostly quiet and sweet. As a six-year-old girl, only weeks away towards her seventh, she often makes people think that she is a bit older than she truly is with how calm she acts around others. Until recently, she has always been so shy. But that is only until the moment her little sister starts acting out and then she would react so strongly to her tantrum—just like what she is doing now.

Hana, on the other hand, is more brave and confident, and a bit too smart for her own good. Always so curious and mischievous, and always loves to copy whatever her big sister is up to. And she is always so headstrong that nothing can stop her whenever she wants something.

She just turned four, and you were sure that she could barely speak full sentences just a year ago. That period of time feels so long ago as you watch her arguing with her sister, with perfect sound of mind, clear words and reasonings, a sign that she is growing up a bit too soon.

“Girls, please stop screaming at each other,” you try to calmly separate them.

You have no idea what is happening. Normally, your girls would know perfectly well how to behave. They take great pride in being your ‘little helpers’ and it isn’t rare for you to bring them with you when you are out buying groceries.

For some reason, they have been like this all day. Constantly arguing and making a fuss over everything. Even to the smallest things.

“You can take turns using the scanner. Let Suzy finish scanning the pancake batter, then you can do yours, Hana. Here—”

Reaching into the shopping cart, you grab the box of cookies that you don’t remember placing inside the cart and try to hand it over to Hana. Only for it to slip out of your hand when both Suzy and Hana try to reach for it. Both insisting on taking it and having their turn.

“Motherfucker,” you mutter under your breath as the box slides on the floor, and both girls immediately launch into another series of arguments, blaming each other for dropping the box and getting you angry.

Tears are pooling in the corner of your eyes, and the quick switch of your mood isn’t unnoticeable for your girls as they both grow still. As if they are expecting you to snap. You bite your lips, trying your best not to.

Just as you take a deep breath to compose yourself, a shadow comes to your side, picking up the fallen box and handing it to you.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice speaks, snapping you out of it, only to pull you into a dreamy trance the moment you get a look at his face and see his smile. The dimple on his cheek distracts you from your distraught that your mind becomes numb for a moment.

“Hi there, do you need any help?”

“Uhm, not really. It’s fine,” you answer, barely getting a word out when it feels like your brain has short-circuited. You shake your head, noticing his extended hand, offering you the box that you dropped earlier. “Oh, thank you,” you say to him, smiling apologetically as you take the box from his hand. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure why my girls are acting like this. They’re not usually this dramatic.”

“That’s okay. Kids will be kids, right?” His eyes flicker towards your girls. Suzy, still in shock, is standing right by the cart while clutching the box of pancake batter to her chest, while Hana is clinging to your leg, almost hiding. “I don’t think you remember me, but—” The kind stranger offers the same hand to you to shake as he introduces himself, “I’m Namjoon. I just moved in a couple of doors away.”

Once the information sets in, everything clicks. “Oh, yes. That’s right. I do remember.”

All of a sudden, your memory takes you to last weekend, when you joined a cookout event held by one of your neighbours. The gathering was initially meant to celebrate their 25th anniversary, and you recall how they extended the celebration to welcome the new neighbour arriving in your block. You were so tired that night and were so focused on watching your kids that everything seemed to flash by, but you do recall gossiping with one of your neighbours, Ella—the only other single mom of the group—about how hot and stunning the newcomer looked.

Blinking away the memory, you offer him another smile. “I’m sorry, I think the stress got to me. But I do remember you, although I don’t think we had enough time to chat.”

“It’s fine. I won’t blame you, given the circumstances,” he says, and that cute dimple appears again. He turns to your kids next, bending a bit lower to match their height. “Hi, there. Are you girls trying to help your mom with the checkout?”

Suzy presses her lips together, too shy to speak, but Hana is always happy to offer an answer. “Suzy won’t let me help.” You look down to see her pouting her lips, yet her eyes are still wide, looking curious and intrigued by this friendly stranger. Once again, something that you might share with your girl.

“Well, I haven’t checked out my things and I might need a little help. So why don’t we let your sister help your mom, and you help me with mine?” he offers Hana with a smile as he points at his shopping basket, which is barely half full. Any adult would notice that he wouldn’t be needing much help with them, but Hana immediately perks up at his generous offer.

“Is that really okay with you?” you ask, worrying about troubling him when you barely know him at all and letting your daughter out of your sight.

As if he knows what you are thinking, he points over his shoulder at the next counter, which is only recently vacant. “I’ll take the next counter, so you can see and hear us all the time.”

A sigh of relief escapes you. For some reason, looking at him alone is enough to reassure you and make you trust him. Maybe it’s the dimple. “Right. Okay,” you say to him, nodding. “Go ahead, honey. Help the nice mister with his groceries. But promise me that you’ll be good.”

“‘Kay!” Hana easily agrees, getting overly excited that she has been given something else to do. “I promise, Mommy.”

Find the beauty in the chaos.

You remember reading that sentence somewhere. Perhaps from one of your favourite romance novels or one of those self-help books that your mother bought you during your darkest time.

Each time you are having a hard time, be it from work, from dealing with household chores, or from caring for your daughters, you will always remember those words to keep your composure. Just like how you kept repeating those same words moments ago while you were stressing over your kids, when you tried to remain calm and sane.

You didn’t expect the beauty to come and find you in your chaos instead.

Having someone helping you just when you are starting to lose your calm feels like a blessing from the universe.

Once peace has been regained, everything seems to return back to normal. Almost as if your daughters’ tantrum and fight never happened.

While you work together with Suzy, who is enjoying her role as your little assistant, her smile widening each time the items go through, you can hear the sound of soft giggling from nearby as Hana does the same with her new friend.

And Namjoon, the kind stranger and your saviour of the day, is making it fun by playing a little game with your little girl using the scanner and his groceries, drawing smiles and laughter from Hana, her little drama earlier forgotten. Soon enough, they are done, yet Hana remains by Namjoon’s side, almost clinging to his strong arm as she chatters away while he listens closely, hanging to every word she says.

It appears that your little girl has completely become infatuated with the man. You cannot blame her though, since the man is quite easy in the eye. You have even noticed some of the women passing by looking over, and it surprises you how quickly it is making you feel territorial about him.

“Thank you so much for your help. I truly appreciate it.”

And you mean every word, seeing that not only has he helped solve your little problem with your demanding daughters, he also stays long enough to walk you to your car. If that isn’t enough to make you feel as if you have been transferred into another dimension, he has somehow gotten your daughter lifted in one arm, while he carries his grocery bag in the other.

“It’s nothing, really. I enjoyed talking to your sweet girl,” he says, once again showing his dimple, and you can swear that you are swooning just by the look of it. Perhaps it’s his voice that does it to you; the deep timbre that makes you feel warm inside. It might also be the way he glances at Hana, not even showing any sign that he is getting annoyed for having his evening thwarted by having to deal with little girls and their very disorganised mother.

“I mean it. You could’ve just walked past and didn’t offer anything, but you still did. You’re even walking us out to the car.” You sigh, recalling the bitter memory of the drama earlier. Glancing at him, you realise that Hana has become extremely silent. “Please tell me Hana isn’t falling asleep on your shoulder.”

Namjoon lets out a soft chuckle as he takes a peek at Hana’s face, her cheeks smushed against his broad shoulder as if she has found the perfect place to rest her head on. “I think she’s about to.”

Biting your lips, you hold back the sound that almost comes involuntarily out of you, because you can almost hear your ovaries exploding.

Namjoon helps put Hana into her kiddie seat in the backseat of the car while you strap Suzy in right beside her. “You seem like you’ve done this before,” you let it slip, and you quickly move your hand to cover your mouth. “I’m so sorry. You’ve been so nice and here I am, sounding too presumptuous.”

“It’s okay. Most of my friends have kids, and I’ve helped them once or twice whenever I’m free. I also have a niece from my sister, which gave me a chance to practice.”

You take a peek at his grocery bag and remember what you saw in it—a box of beer, a couple of boxes of microwave dinners, and some snacks—and feel the urge to cook him dinner. Just to pay him a favour.

Yes, that’s what it is. Not that you are eager to have him over for dinner or invite him into your home for anything other than.

The offer is there, hanging at the tip of your tongue. But then you bite your lips, your insecurities and doubts rearing their ugly head, making you feel so small that you take a step back and simply say, “Thank you again. I’m so sorry for all the trouble.”

Namjoon shrugs it off. “It was a pleasure to help.”

Nodding, you look around, trying to find a distraction. You quickly notice that most of the cars parked near yours have gone away. “Are you—where did you park your car?”

The dimple on his cheek appears again when he shows you a bashful smile. “I don’t drive a car, actually,” he says, grinning and rubbing the back of his head. “I rode a bike here.”

“A—bike?” You resist the urge to look around, just to be sure. Riding a bike at this time at night? You have no idea whether to feel amazed or baffled. Perhaps both.

Seeing your reaction makes him laugh, and you somehow decide that you like the sound of it. “Yeah, I always ride a bike to the gym, and I was just heading home from there when I decided to make a quick stop to grab some sustenance for the evening.”

Hiking the grocery bag in his arm higher, Namjoon takes a step back. That is when you notice the bag hanging from his shoulder. The one that wasn’t weighed down by Hana’s little head.

Okay, you have officially decided to be amazed. Is this guy for real?

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around?” He asks, snapping you back to the present before your mind starts picturing him carrying something else on those shoulders.

No, none of it involves you.

Maybe.

You shake your head and muster a smile. “Oh, you betcha. You’ll definitely see us more often. Especially now that Hana has decided to like you.”

You linger at the driver’s side of your car, hands on the door, yet your body refuses to slide in. You have no idea what seems to be drawing you towards him. Whatever it is, it makes you not want to leave.

Namjoon tilts his head, as if noticing your hesitation to leave first. “Go on, I’ll watch you until you’re out there safely.”

You open your mouth, almost ready to tell him to get back on his way before realising that the parking lot is quiet. Too quiet. And you have to admit that ever since you were left with only your two girls, you have been feeling a bit more vulnerable. Choosing to accept his offer of staying until you are safe to go—and feeling warm in the chest for having someone care enough to do so—you nod your head and slip into your car.

Once you are strapped in, you look out the window to wave him goodbye.

“Drive safe,” he says, and then the dimple reappears when he smiles, almost causing you to stutter.

“Yes, um. You too.”

Hana’s eyes flutter open just as Namjoon takes a peek into the backseat window to say goodbye to the girls.

“Bye, Mista Joonie!” she cheerfully shouts, as if she wasn’t falling asleep in his arm just moments ago.

“Goodbye, Mister,” Suzy chimes in with a shy smile, waving her hand at Namjoon which he returns with a small wave.

“I’ll see you girls around!”

Giving him one last wave and a smile, you begin to drive away. You can still see him through the rearview mirror, standing by and watching you go, until you are almost out of the lot and you see his figure running in the distance to get back to his bike. It’s brief, but there is something about this chance encounter that makes you feel bitter about leaving.

Even if, deep down, you know that you will see him again soon.

Perhaps I should’ve offered and invited him for dinner, after all.

There is truly no beauty in this chaos.

Even if there is, it would be impossible for you to see it. Not in moments like this.

It seems like the entire universe is out to get you this week, as nothing seems to be aligning the way it should have. The whole office has been in complete havoc all morning. Typical for Blackwell Press, the publishing company you are working with, to have the final week of the month filled with all the hustle. With everyone getting caught in deadlines, meetings and conference calls held back to back, and your own work piling up, it almost seems impossible for things to get even worse.

But, of course, it eventually did.

Offices don’t randomly get caught on fire during the daytime, when there are people—many of them—inside. Elevators don’t randomly get stuck merely seconds after the fire alarm starts blaring across the building.

Okay, this elevator had gotten stuck before, during that one time some staff were working late at night and the machine suddenly failed to work. Everyone has been joking about it happening again during a busy day, and it feels like karma that it has to happen again now.

But must it happen when you are inside it?

The steady hum of the elevator suddenly turned into a deafening silence just moments ago, and the only thing you can do now is to stand frozen in the flickering light, wondering what is going on. Trapped between floors, the confined space appears in your mind as if closing in on you, the walls shrinking with every breath. The only reprieve you are given is the fact that you are not in it on your own.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, louder than the faint crackle of the intercom as Daniel, the Marketing guy, tries to contact the security staff downstairs through the intercom. His voice remains calm despite the constant crackling sound each time they try to respond, while the other Marketing staff present with you, Jae, has long discarded his suit in his effort to calm himself.

You take shallow breaths to keep yourself from panicking, all while trying to listen to the soft hum of their voices as they talk about what to do, just to keep your mind from wandering towards dark places. Right beside you, Lily, the only member of the Editor team aside yourself, is slowly losing her calm.

At the sudden halt of the elevator, she had reached out to grab the sleeve of your blouse as if searching for support. As seconds tick by, her grip on your sleeve tightens as she tries to control her breath, her eyes locked on the digital screen that is no longer displaying a floor number. And you let her cling to you, even when you feel like you need some added strength for yourself.

It was by mere coincidence that the four of you are stuck here together.

You were the last ones to leave the conference room after the latest meeting, having been the ones responsible for providing the items for the meeting. As fate has it, merely seconds after the doors were closed and the elevator had only started moving, the fire alarm started blaring through the building, and everything came to a halt.

“They’re saying that help is on its way,” says Daniel, relaying the message that he just received from the intercom, his voice becomes the calm in this dire situation.

You find yourself feeling grateful that at least one of you manages to hear the voice coming through the intercom, while you haven’t been able to focus on anything at all. Nothing but the sound of your breathing, the rapid sound of your heartbeat, and at the way the air seems to be growing stale with four people sharing the same oxygen in this tight space.

“What did they say? Is it connected to the fire alarm?” you try to ask, hoping that getting some positive news might help clear your thoughts. Even if just a little.

“No, they didn’t say anything,” Daniel says with a strained voice, possibly due to reality finally sinking in once the intercom stops making any sound to respond.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jae leans back against the metal railing and sighs. “Let’s just hope that we’re not anywhere close to the fire, and it’s just some issues with the electricity,” he adds while trying his best to remain calm. But it doesn’t help make you feel any calmer when his eyes begin wandering at every visible gap and crevice as he speaks, as if making sure that he isn’t seeing any smoke filtering into the elevator.

It makes you feel uneasy to see this. Every bit of calmness that you still have begins chipping away.

Soon, silence falls as everyone tries their best to remain still and composed while waiting for help to come. The minutes drag on like hours, allowing your thoughts to wander into a darker place and letting your doubt and fear sink in.

Is the building really burning?

Why are we stuck here? How long are we supposed to wait?

What happens if help doesn’t come?

What about my girls? What will happen to them if I—

You blink away the tears forming in your eyes at the thought of not returning home to your girls. The thought of leaving them behind hurts you beyond words that you are beginning to lose hope.

Gripping the metal railing behind you tightly, you close your eyes and begin to pray. And you continue to pray as time slips away in the dim, stalled box. Please, you beg whoever is listening. Please, someone—

A loud clatter breaks the silence, causing everyone to jerk their heads up, all eyes looking around to find its source. Right as Jae is about to speak, the clattering stops and comes a muffled voice from somewhere above.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" The voice is clear now, firm but calming, and somewhat familiar. But your mind is a jumbled mess of worry and bewilderment that you cannot figure out the reason why you would think that way.

"Yes!" Jae calls back after looking around, seeing how everyone is stunned to silence, “Yes, we can hear you!”

"Stay calm," the voice calmly instructs from above. “We’re from the firefighters. We're going to get you out."

You feel your knees weakening with relief. Even the others collectively exhale deep sighs of relief and Lily begins to loosen her hold on the sleeve of your blouse. “Okay,” she whispers, steadying herself. “We’re going to be okay.”

Daniel nods when he sees that everyone is calmer. “Okay, we’re ready!” he shouts to the person on the other side as he braces against the cool metal wall.

Soon, you hear a low, scraping sound against the elevator door, followed by the clank of tools echoing through the small chamber. The elevator shirts slightly upon impact, causing everyone to gasp and instinctively start stepping away from the door. Before panic starts to set back in, the firefighter’s voice cuts through again, calming everyone down.

"We're going to manually open the doors. You might feel the elevator shift a little—don't worry. You're safe."

Safe.

The word echoes through your mind, acting like a spell as it brings some reassurance. Something for you to cling to. The clanking sounds of the tool returns just as you start hearing the firefighter coordinating with his team outside.

More creaks and groans follow next, lasting for a short while, and then—light appears. The doors start inching open, revealing the gap between the elevator floor and the hallway above. Two strong hands appear from the gap, pulling the doors wider until there is enough space for you to see your rescuers in their fire gear, all focused and ready to pull everyone out.

One firefighter peeks through the opened doors with a smile. “Alright, who’s up first?”

Both men who are with you step aside, allowing either you or Lily to get out first. So you push Lily forward, letting her get helped first before you take your turn.

"Alright, just one step up," the firefighter says, reaching down with an outstretched hand. "Take my hand, we’ve got you."

You hesitate only for a moment before grasping his hand, his hold feels solid and reassuring. You can feel the strength in his grip as he hoists you up and out of the elevator, the cool rush of fresh air hitting you like a wave of relief. Your legs tremble as they touch solid ground that you nearly fall, yet the kind firefighter holds you up by your arms, keeping you steady as he sets you aside so that the other members of his team can start helping the men out.

"You're okay now," the firefighter says, his voice softer now. "Just breathe. You’re safe."

Nodding, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to feel the weight of your fear melting away. Still unable to speak, you glance back at the elevator, seeing it still wedged between floors, and feel a shiver run through you as you remember that you had just been inside it moments ago. But as you look around, watching the firefighters handling the situation, helping the other three who had just gotten pulled out to get help, the terror that was gripping at you begins to loosen its hold.

With a relieved sigh, you straighten up and turn back to your saviour, the firefighter who had just pulled you out and is still holding you up. The moment you see his face, you finally understand why his voice felt so familiar, and why you could easily find calmness when you first heard him speak.

“Namjoon,” you whisper his name, drawing a smile to his face, showing you the small dimple which had been in your mind ever since the night you last met.

“I told you we’d meet again soon.”

“Is this really necessary?”

You are sitting at the corner of the building’s main lobby, together with the other three who had gotten stuck with you in the elevator. Other staff have also been evacuated here while the firefighters are working to find the source of the problem.

Namely, the reason why the fire alarm went off when there was no sign of the building burning anywhere.

Right by your side, Jae is being checked by the medical team when it is quite obvious that all the man wants to do is to get back to his office.

“You were under duress just moments ago, Sir. We need to check your vitals to make sure that there are no other issues with your body that the incident may have caused before letting you go.”

“Let the boy do his job so we can all go back to the office,” Daniel chimes in just as he is done being checked out and the medic moves to Lily next. The poor girl has yet to regain some colour on her pale face, which makes you worried. “Wait, we’re allowed to go back to our office, right?”

The medical staff nods and talks about waiting until everyone gets clearance from the investigation team before going back up. After getting your turn for the quick check-up, you wander off a bit between the staff lingering around, feeling too restless to sit still.

Before you realise what you are doing, you begin searching for a familiar figure between the throng of people, and you don’t stop until you see a group of firefighters returning to the lobby after checking the floors above. One of them, who appears to be the team leader, walks towards the head of security and the Head Editor waiting close by.

“It came from smoke forming in the break room. Someone must’ve burned something in the microwave or forgot to pull it out and the smoke triggered the alarm,” you hear the team leader speak, explaining the cause of the fire alarm. “The faulty alarm system made the electrical circuit go haywire, which made it seem like it was a bigger fire than it was, and it may have caused the elevator cables to short-circuit.” The team leader hands the draft of their investigation report to the head of security. “The elevator needs to get checked too, since the cables are old. You need to get it done soon.”

The Head Editor—your boss—takes a peek at the report and shakes his head. “I’m gonna need to contact building management—”

His voice begins to fade away when a movement catches your eyes, and you see the person that you have been searching for separating himself from the group to approach you.

Namjoon, who turns out to be your saviour, walks up to you with a smile on his face. “Are you okay?” he asks, the familiar deep timber of his voice brings some warmth to your chest, telling you that this isn’t a figment of your imagination.

“Yeah,” you answer with a small voice, still too dumbfounded to see him standing before you like this. “Uhm, yes, I’m fine. Thank you so much for saving my life.” The moment you say this, a soft giggle slips right out of you. “This makes it the second time this week you’ve come to my rescue.”

Namjoon’s smile widens. “I’m just glad to help.”

He takes a look around. “So, a publishing agency, hmm? What is it exactly that you do here, if I may ask?” His curious gaze lands on you and it feels like he is trying to look into your soul. “I hope it’s okay if I’m curious, since you now know what I do for a living.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t mind at all,” you admit to him before answering, “I’m an editor. I edit manuscripts for upcoming books before they are sent out to print and get officially published. You can say that I’m being paid to read and comment, and gain the extra privilege of reading the books first before everyone else does.”

“That sounds interesting,” he says, raising his brows. “I don’t suppose you’ll be getting back to work after this?”

“I’m not entirely sure. But I don’t think I will.” You glance around at your co-workers. Neither seems to have any desire of going back to work after this whole incident. Sharing the same feeling with the others around you, you feel a strong desire of seeing your girls and spending time with them instead. “I might get back to my office only to pack up my stuff and leave early, pick up Hana from daycare and have a little cool down at the park before we go and pick up her sister. I know she’ll love it.”

At the mention of your girls, Namjoon’s smile softens. “That sounds fun.”

For a moment, it looks as if he wants to say something, only to stop himself when someone from his team calls his name. Namjoon looks over his shoulder and nods. “Unfortunately, one of us has to go back to work,” he says with an apologetic smile, “I’ll see you around. Hopefully, not in another case of emergency?”

You cannot help but smile. “I promise to try and keep things less dramatic next time.”

With a grin on his face, Namjoon turns away and joins the other men from his team as they prepare to leave. You watch him for a moment longer, blending in with the rest of them until someone comes to your side.

“So—” Your friend, Emma, says as she slips her arm around yours. “Who’s the hunk?”

You roll your eyes and smile. “He’s a new neighbour. He helped me the last time we met,” you answer, still stunned with everything that has been going on. You never expected that you would be seeing Namjoon again, and for him to once again save the day for you, “Which makes this the second time he’s helped me.”

“Oooh, sounds like a story premise in the making. It’ll make a good romance prompt, don’t you think?” she teases, “A firefighter who keeps crossing paths with a single mother, saving her during a series of misfortunes and ending up falling in love after the single mom starts paying his goodwill with homecooked meals and other”—she starts wiggling her eyebrows—”raunchy favours.”

You laugh at her comment, even if it doesn’t stop you feeling your cheeks flushing warmly. “Well, I’m not the writer. You can probably pitch that idea to the indie author you’ve been working with.”

“Who? Sana? Hmmm, you’re right. This is kind of her thing. Let me take notes on that,” Emma says as she pulls out her phone and starts tapping on the screen, no doubt writing the idea down on her notes app. “I might advice her to make it extra spicy too.”

As you continue to chat with your friend about books and promising writers, you let her guide you back towards the Editor team who are gathering at one corner of the room with your boss, talking about the incidents and what they are going to do next.

“Are you heading back up?” Emma asks you before you join the others, and you recall your plan about spending the rest of the afternoon with your youngest.

“I’m thinking of grabbing my stuff and head back home if Adam lets us go for the day,” you say to her, referring to your boss, the Head Editor who isn’t showing any sign of wanting to back to work. Much like everyone else. “I’ll probably end up losing sleep again if I want to finish editing tonight.”

You let out a sigh, thinking about the lack of sleep you have been having this week. With new books coming up to prints this month, and new writers struggling to keep up with the schedule that you have set up for them, you have been staying up a lot of nights to catch up with editing.

“But it’s still a lot better to work from home than being stuck here and freaking out about the elevator and false fire alarms all day,” you add, almost like reassuring yourself that it would be okay to sacrifice more sleep for the sake of your sanity.

“Good point. I bet we can sweet talk Adam to let us go early today. I don’t see the point in working when everyone is stressed out anyway,” Emma jokes as she points her chin at Adam, whose eyebrows are furrowed deeply as he continues chatting with his assistants. “At least, thanks to this, I think we deserve to let off some steam. What do you say we go out this Saturday? Grab some drinks, dance a bit, maybe you can practice your flirting skills so you can make use of them the next time you meet up with that cutie again.”

You make a face as you imagine yourself trying to make a move on Namjoon, which only makes her laugh. “I’m serious. He seems nice, aside from being hot, and it’ll be a missed opportunity not to tap that.”

You roll your eyes, but a part of you is starting to consider it. As much as you love being a mother and to dedicate your entire life to your career, you cannot deny that you do want to start dating again.

And the offer to have a night out where you can let off some steam and let loose does sound enticing. Emma and some of your other friends have been asking you to join them to hangout on drink nights lately. But with a lot of deadlines and tight schedules weighing down on you, and no one to watch your girls while you are out, you have been declining their invitation. But after dealing with such a hard week, you feel like you deserve a night to yourself.

“I do need a stiff drink.” Sighing, you remember that your daughters are going to be spending the weekends with your parents. It wouldn’t hurt to use that free time to have some fun for a change instead of staying in. “All right. Count me in.”

Emma cheers. “Great! I’ll call the other girls to see if they’ll come too it so we can all catch up. Chloe called the other day and shared about wanting to see us and give us the souvenirs she got from her trip to Singapore last week, so she’ll probably be excited too,” she says, mentioning another fellow Editor who used to work in the same company as the two of you before moving up to a bigger publishing agency.

Just then, you see a small group of firefighters walking across the lobby, heading towards the front door to leave. Among them is Namjoon, who seems to feel your gaze on him. As you continue watching him walk alongside his team, he suddenly turns. His eyes quickly find you among the crowd lingering in the lobby, his smile growing wider as he raises his hand to wave goodbye.

Emma makes a humming sound when she sees this exchange happening and whispers, “Promise me you’ll tell me more about that hot firefighter of yours.”

Keeping your eyes on Namjoon, you merely smile and wave your hand back at him. “Mhmm. We’ll see.”

It’s a typical Saturday night at Cipher, the rustic-style bar that Namjoon has frequented ever since he moved into the city.

The bar had a different name just a couple of years ago, when Namjoon first came by during one of his previous visits to this city, and with different types of patrons as well. The only thing that remains the same since is the man who is working behind the bar, mixing drinks while chatting with whoever decides to hang around the bartender.

“How is living in the city going for you so far?” Jin, the bartender and owner of the bar, asks Namjoon while he is busy wiping clean glasses between drink orders.

Twisting the glass in his hand, Namjoon shrugs before taking a sip of his whiskey. “Not too bad. I can’t say that I’ve gotten to fit right in with the neighbours. But things are doing good at work, so that’s good enough for now.”

“Seeing anyone already?” Jin teases, making Namjoon laugh.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” He shakes his head. “It might be too soon for me to get back out there into the dating scene.”

“You? Not sure about getting out to meet up with women?” Jin laughs. “Look, I’m not talking about getting into a relationship or finding someone else to propose. I’m talking about having fun. Go pick someone you find attractive tonight and take her home with you. You deserve a good time too, you know.”

Namjoon’s throat feels tight just by hearing that word—propose—only because it brings back a painful memory; of the days filled with fights and shouting matches and distrust, and the desperation he felt to hold on to the hope that things would have gotten better if he chose to settle down.

Shaking the sudden wave of painful memory doesn’t really help when he thinks about opening himself to finding instant pleasure to replace what was lost to him.

Namjoon may not be a stranger to having a one-night stand. But it has been a while since the last time he had one. Those days are way behind him. Long before he decided to settle down, only to have everything fall apart and he was forced to start over in a new place just to survive.

He knows all too well that sharing his bed with someone for one night only does little to fill the void. He knows from what he experienced during his wild days in the past. Physically, he might not have been alone for those short hours, but once it ended, it only made him feel even more lonely than before. At some point, the loneliness started to feel painful. It was what had first led him to start longing for something more.

He once thought that he had found more. Only that it had been with the wrong person, at the wrong time, and he found himself back to square one when everything crumbled.

He took it all thinking that it might have been karma. Bad fate came to bite him on the ass after all the years he had his fun chasing women, breaking hearts here and there, until he got his own heart broken to pieces just months ago.

It was the reality check he needed. One that he has yet to completely recover from. The pain and the memories of the past would sometimes come creeping in, staying with him as if they had been woven into the cracks that were left inside him to remain even after he walked away. It kept chasing him during the nights he spent alone—and he had tried to go back to the game once or twice, only to fail to gain anything out of it—which was why he decided to move away.

Start anew. Meet new people. And then one day, maybe—

He knows that time will eventually help him heal, just like how time has healed many of the scars he had gained through the years of working with danger, chasing fires and pulling people out of crumbling buildings and crashed cars and stuck elevators—a flutter of a smile comes to his face as he recalls the most recent incident—while risking his own body, his life, doing so.

“I can’t believe I’m getting an advice about hooking up from someone like you,” Namjoon chuckles, as he brushes those thoughts away, choosing to tease Jin instead. “Someone who claims to be looking into settling down.”

Jin scoffs. “I’m saying this for your own good.” Propping his elbows on top of the bar counter, Jin leans forward. “You moved here to start over. Not to stop living altogether.”

Namjoon gives him a bitter smile. “Right now, I’m only going to spend the night nursing my drink, enjoying my downtime while I’m off duty.”

Shaking his head, Jin leans back and grabs the empty glasses left behind from the patrons who had just stepped away from the seats next to Namjoon. “Have you thought about my offer?” Jin asks, “About working here on the nights you’re not on night shift? At least, that way, you might open up your eyes and see all the opportunities you can get by standing right here at the bar, talking to people.”

“And live a double life like you do?” Namjoon teases him, which earns him a wink from Jin, before the bartender saunters away as another customer waves him down to order a drink.

Once again left with his own thoughts, Namjoon allows himself to sink back into old memories; all the good and the bad; the long-lost hope that he once had and is now trying to rebuild.

“Wanna have another?” Jin asks when he returns, noticing that Namjoon has almost emptied his glass yet again. “Got enough time to think about what I was saying?”

“Maybe,” Namjoon says as he tosses his drink down. He slides the empty glass back to Jin. “Get me a double of that.”

As Jin steps back to grab his drinks, Namjoon notices the group of patrons crowding nearby spreading away, giving him a clear sight of the bar’s entrance door just as a group of women enters, laughing and chatting with each other without realising the attention they are gaining. All of a sudden, Namjoon feels as if the air around him shifts, right the moment his eyes capture the sight of a familiar smile among the ladies who seem to have come for a good time.

“Can I ask you something?” Namjoon asks Jin when the bartender returns with his drink.

“Sure. Anything.”

“Do you believe in fate?”

Jin laughs. “Me? I can’t really say I don’t believe it, but it’s also not something I’d talk about while tending the bar. Why?”

Namjoon turns back to look at the group of newcomers, his smile growing wider when his eyes meet yours as you look up, as if you can feel his presence as he sits across the room, watching you with a new feeling of hope brewing inside his chest. Life can be cruel sometimes, he silently admits. Yet it seems that life is slowly turning to his favour when you unexpectedly appear right before his eyes, right when he is about to call it a night and return to his lonely home.

“Well, I think I am starting to believe it.”

“I feel like we should make a toast,” Emma starts once you manage to find an open table. She holds up her glass of Cosmo before anyone can start enjoying their drinks.

“What are we toasting for?” Ina asks, just as Emma shouts,

“To friendship.”

Chloe snorts into her drink and shakes her head. “What are we, in high school?”

“Hey, I mean, it works,” Emma whines, “Seeing that we still hang out together even after you and Ina moved to different companies.”

Thinking to yourself, you think about the long week that you just had and offer, “How about a toast to surviving life?”

“I’ll toast to that,” Ina quickly agrees with a nod, and you can totally understand why. Being the oldest one of the group, she has a ton of things on her plate among her busy days at work; from dealing with her teenage boys back home who are beginning to act up; a husband who is busy preparing for his promotion; and a sick cat back home.

“I love my boys, but sometimes I wish they were still the same adorable toddlers who would listen to me instead of fighting me all the time,” she would often say, though you could always see the love in her eyes even as she complains about them. “Are you sure you don’t want to trade them with your girls? Just a night will be enough for me. I promise.”

Chloe raises her glass to join the toast, saying, “I’ll toast to that too. These past few weeks have been pretty crazy for me. I want to stay in bed with my hubby for the next few weeks and not answer any texts or phone calls.”

Her comment makes you want to take a shot of your drink. You shouldn’t feel envious about her having someone waiting for her back home. You shouldn’t wish that you had someone to share your bed with tonight. You really don’t need to think about having to return home tonight alone, to a quiet home, without your girls waiting back home, without anyone keeping you company.

The only thing you fear the most about being left alone with your thoughts is to have the ghosts of your past coming back. Memories always come stronger at nights. Taking you back to the days when you were not alone, yet you are made struggling even harder than you are now when you tried to hold on to the crumbling marriage.

Nobody warned you that falling out of love can be painful. How lonely it made you feel. It scorned you to the point that you nearly sworn yourself off of love, just to keep your heart save. Whatever was left of it.

“Then why are you here hanging with us when you have a husband to cuddle with?” Emma teases, her voice snapping you out of it. Then Chloe leans in to hug you from the side.

“Because I also miss you guys,” she says, drawing everyone’s laughter.

You share a toast with the girls, clinking the glasses as you cheer, followed by a series of shots, and then a new round of drinks is shared at the table. You continue talking, laughing, catching up about life and sharing gossip and fussing over some problematic authors that both Emma and Chloe had to deal with for the past month. By the time the next round of shots arrives at the table, you notice Emma’s eyes looking over your shoulder and grinning at what she sees.

“Aren’t you going to say hi?” she teases, leaning in to make it less obvious that she has been observing the one person that you have been fighting not to look at.

You take a careful sip of your Moscow Mule as you think of an excuse. “We already waved at each other when we first came in.”

Truth be told, you already know that a simple wave was the bare minimum that you could have given him. Seeing Namjoon sitting there at the bar when you first came into this place caught you by surprise that you were left speechless. It was Namjoon who had first smiled at you, and the only thing you could do was wave your hand at him when your legs refused to take you to him.

“You know that’s not enough.” Emma rolls her eyes. “The guy practically saved your life.”

Your reaction—or lack thereof—over seeing Namjoon hadn’t gone unnoticed by your friends. But it was Emma who had explained to the others about who Namjoon was, earning you more questions and teasing from the girls which only made it even harder for you to ignore his presence.

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it if you offer something special tonight for a thank-you gift,” Chloe teases while wiggling her brows.

You laugh, snorting into your drink. “Sure he will,” you say, as you find it hard to imagine that someone like Namjoon would even be interested in being with someone like you. Not only because you know that he is younger than you, but you also know that there are many women out there—mostly those around his age—that he would find more attractive, compared to a single mom like yourself.

As always, your insecurities are quick to set in. Before you can drown it with a strong drink, Emma quickly protests, “You’re a MILF, ______. Stop selling yourself short.”

Nodding, Ina gently agrees with her by saying, “You definitely shouldn’t, seeing that he keeps glancing at you.”

“She means to say that he’s been eye-fucking you since we got here,” Chloe adds, snickering as she glances over her shoulder to catch Namjoon looking over.

“He so is!” Ina says, leaning across the table. “He’s hot. Go for it.”

Hearing this, you finally take a long sip of your drink, trying to gain some liquid courage. You have only gotten a few glasses of drink, the night has yet grown late, but you have already gotten quite a good buzz going on, and you are using it to grow some courage to look over at him. Sure enough, Namjoon is still there, with a glass of what seems to be whiskey in his hand, and a pair of eyes that are looking straight at you. A smile grows on his face as your gazes meet each other, though it is quickly hidden as he lifts his glass to his lips.

“See? He’s looking over again.” Emma starts giggling and gently nudges at your shoulder. “Go talk to him and practice that flirting skills of yours.”

“What flirting skills?” you ask while laughing. Deep down, your insecurities are still clawing at you, but having everyone pushing you to do something that you normally wouldn’t do—like flirting with a hot younger guy like Namjoon—is starting to make you want to change your mind. “Okay, but what do I say?”

“You can start by saying hi,” Ina says. She pushes her appletini in front of you. “Here,” she says. “Finish this, then go talk to him before someone else moves in on that fine piece of ass.”

Chloe nods her head as you pick up the glass of appletini and contemplate what you need to do next. “You can go to the bar and act like you’re there to order drinks from the bartender since we’ll be needing some more drinks.”

“Go on,” Emma joins in, obviously enjoying this.

You exhale a deep breath and bring the glass to your lips. The sweet liquor glides down your throat and you suddenly start wishing that you had gotten something stronger. Lowering the drink, you turn to look for him again. Namjoon isn’t looking at you this time, yet he is still there, talking to the pretty-looking bartender who was the main reason why Emma had chosen to come to this bar—as she seems to be having a sweet crush on the bartender.

“All right, here I go,” you say, as you finish the drink and muster the will to rise from your seat. Your legs are a bit wobbly when you try to walk across the room, but the muted voices of your friends who are cheering for you from behind give you the boost you need to continue going.

The floor between your table and the bar has been filled with people dancing while you are drinking, and they come in your way, making you lose sight of Namjoon for a moment. Not being able to see him only makes you feel calmer, until the crowd opens up and you see him once again, still sitting at the bar. Alone.

Eyes too focused on him, you accidentally bump into someone who walks right into your path. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you immediately apologise while the person simply slides out of your way and returns to his dancing.

You hear a soft chuckle, a familiar sound that causes your breath to catch. You whip around and your eyes are locked with his. Immediately, something fuzzy builds in your chest, and you almost fall out of step when you notice it.

Are those butterflies you are feeling inside? You haven’t felt anything remotely like butterflies in—fuck—years.

As his smile grows wider at the sight of you walking towards him, you try to convince yourself that his presence isn’t affecting you. At all.

Your lady bits do not quiver for random men. You are certainly not having dirty thoughts about him. You keep telling yourself this as you get closer to him. And yet—

Your heart immediately speeds up at the sound of his voice—calling your name.

“_______, fancy seeing you here,” he says, looking genuinely pleased that those butterfly wings are beginning to flutter again, causing some funny feelings to rise in your stomach.

“I could say the same thing. It was a nice surprise to see you,” you respond to him and—fuck, did you really just try flirting with him? “Enjoying your night?”

“You can say that,” he says with a dimple smile of his, “But I’m finding more reasons to feel good tonight now that you’re here.”

Damn, he’s good, you wonder as you stifle a smile, and fail. Maybe he should be the one helping you sharpen your flirting skills instead of Emma or the other girls who always start making jokes about it and making you laugh each time you try it on them.

“A friend of yours?” You turn when the bartender comes, throwing you a smile as he speaks to Namjoon.

“Jin, this is _______,” Namjoon says, introducing the two of you. “This is Jin, an old friend who first convinced me to move here. He’s the main reason why I hang out at a place like this.”

You offer your hand to the bartender who takes it with a firm grip. “Hi, it’s nice to see you. I see that you and your friends are having quite a blast.”

Returning Jin’s smile, you playfully ask him, “Would it be too much if I thank you for encouraging Namjoon to move here?”

“Nope, not at all,” Jin laughs. “So, what can I get you?”

You quickly make your order, and while you wait for the bartender to finish preparing the drinks, you take the seat right by Namjoon’s side so you can have a little chat. Either the alcohol is starting to warm you up inside, or Namjoon’s friendly smile is making you more comfortable, every bit of tension you feel is lifted when you begin laughing at his simple jokes.

Once the drinks are ready, you reluctantly rise to return to your friends to deliver their shots. This time, you have a slight new pep in your footsteps, confidence brewing inside you after realising that you had conquered one of your insecurities tonight by chatting with Namjoon. Your friends welcome you with light cheers, and you celebrate by sharing a shot of whiskey and finishing the rest of your drink.

It doesn’t take long before your friends decide to end the night.

Ina is the one to step away first, when her husband calls her about one of their sons who had just gotten caught sneaking through the window after lying about doing his homework in his room. “We don’t know if he snuck out to see a girl or got himself in other kinds of trouble while he was out, but Dan needs me as a backup to get some answers from the little brat,” she says, kissing your cheek when she bids goodbye for the night.

Chloe is the one who needs to go home next, when her husband keeps calling her about feeling lonely at home. “I can’t tell if it’s sad or cute, but I think I’ve had enough to drink for the night. I already got an Uber picking me up outside.”

“Are you coming?” Emma asks you, her eyes looking over towards the bar before asking, “Or are you going to stay?”

You follow her gaze, looking at Namjoon chuckling along with whatever the bartender is saying to him. A part of you is telling you to call it a night, but there is a bigger part of you that feels intrigued, and curious to see what would happen tonight if you choose differently. To be selfish for once.

“I think I’m going to stay.”

Your answer brings a smile to Emma’s face. She seems proud and—relieved. You have no idea why she would feel this way over your decision to stay for a man, but she simply nods and says, “All right, then I’ll ride with you, Chloe. I’ll see you on Monday, girl,” she says to you as she leans in for a hug and whispers, “Go get him.”

You watch your friends go before finishing the rest of your drink and leaving your seat. Before you can change your mind, your legs take you towards the bar, returning to Namjoon’s side as if you are drawn to him like a moth to flame.

“Are you calling it a night too?” Namjoon asks you when he notices you coming, his gaze flickering to follow your friends as they weave through the crowd to find the exit door, as if expecting to see you following them.

“I don’t really want to go home yet.” You bite your lips. “I think I’m going to have another drink before leaving. Are you planning on leaving early?”

The smile that grows on Namjoon’s face makes your heart flutter. He does look good when he smiles. “And waste the chance to drink with you? No way.” You take the empty seat that he offers right next to him, which he gently pulls closer once you are settled in. “Let me order for you. What are you having?”

“Surprise me.”

Smiling, Namjoon orders you a Moscow Mule, causing you to raise your brows. “You ordered the same drink twice while you were here.”

“You have quite a good memory,“ you tease him, “Are you sure you don’t work here?”

Namjoon laughs. His eyes glimmer under the dim lighting when he says, “You’re not the kind of woman that I’d be so easy to forget.”

You can barely hold back from laughing, because you cannot find it in you to agree.

“You don’t believe me when I say that you’re not easy to forget?” he asks, moving closer to you until you can breathe in the musky cologne he is wearing.

“Me? I’m nothing special. I’m just”—you breathe out a sigh—”just me.”

He takes your hand, sliding his fingers to your wrist, his thumb finding your pulse where he rubs in circles. “I don’t know you very well—yet—but from what I’ve seen, ‘just you’ seems pretty damn special.”

You laugh again and take a drink, murmuring softly to him, “Thanks.”

He looks down for a moment, as if considering what to say. But he seems more determined when he lifts his gaze and looks back at you. There is something in his eyes which draws out the flutters in your chest. A new look which you have yet to see coming from him during the short time you’ve known him.

The look which shows a different kind of want.

And you can only guess what he is thinking right now. Biting your lips, you wait until he says the words, because there is nothing that you want more right now but to go with him. You enjoy talking to him, to be in his presence, and you have a feeling that you might enjoy it more if he offers something more.

It’s just one night, so you can possibly handle it. Right?

Fuck. All of a sudden, you don’t feel too sure about it.

But the gentle touch of his fingers on your skin, together with the deep timber of his voice when he hums, is slowly enticing you to open up, to give in to chance.

Namjoon’s eyes meet yours and the same dimple smile of his returns. You swallow hard, ignoring the sound of your pounding heart as he asks,

“Do you want to get out of here?”

Biting your lips, you can feel your chest tightening. Your heart beating fast. Hard. Your body moves to lean closer even without you meaning it to.

“Yes,” you whisper, and his face lights up, as if he was almost sure that you were going to refuse.

“Your place, or mine?”

A simple question, made with a light tone of voice that sounds almost joking, except that Namjoon’s heart is beating rapidly inside his chest as he says it. He already risked everything when he first asked to take you away from here. Now, it feels as if he is risking a bit more as he waits for your answer.

You bite your lips, and your hesitance only makes him feel worse. “Is there any difference?”

Namjoon wants to say, no, it doesn’t. The only thing that matters is for him to be spending this night with you. You push your hair back, and when your eyes meet his, he can almost feel your heart beating right up against his.

“Are your kids home tonight?” Namjoon tries when you’re not too sure. Somehow, he understands that you might be wary about coming home to his place when you barely know him.

“No, they’re at my parents.”

A smile is lifted on his face. “Then are you going to take me home?”

You return his smile and lean closer. It amazes him how quickly you switch—from shy and hesitant at one point, to feeling more confident and daring the next. And it turns him on even more when you say, “Only if you promise that you’re going to be a good boy.”

Namjoon calls an Uber to take you both home while you make a quick stop at the restroom before leaving the place. In the short time that he has to wait for you, Namjoon struggles to keep his composure. It’s almost laughable the way it makes him feel like a newbie. For him to feel so nervous as if he is inexperienced in this.

In a way, this is something new for him. Enough to make him feel exhilarated about what is to come.

He turns just in time to see you walking up to him. As if your moment away had given you the chance to recoup and find some resolve, you look as if you are shining, your smile looking bright and your eyes filled with lust and want and it takes everything in him not to pull you into his arms here and now just to kiss you senseless.

“Take me home, mama,” he jokingly says when he opens the car door for you, making you laugh.

Instead of answering him, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him in with you until you are seated in the backseat of the car together, bringing the heat that you share into the confines of the car as it takes you back home.

In the tight space within the car, the heat that has been building up between you becomes more palpable. You can tell that he is feeling it too. And he seems to be giving into it, when he keeps running the tips of his fingers from your hand to your wrist, when his knees keep pressing against yours, and when his eyes keep trailing from your face, down to your cleavage, and then back up to your neck, before lingering on your lips.

He wets his lips, as if he is picturing himself tasting you with a kiss. “Can I be honest with you?” he whispers, leaning closer.

“Of course.”

“I…couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits with a soft chuckle. It seems that his confession surprises him just as much as it does to you.

“Since the fire alert?”

“No,” he says with a grin, “ever since the night we first met.”

Was it at the supermarket? You wonder to yourself, trying to figure out what he could have possibly seen in you that night through the chaos with your girls.

No, it was before, you begin to realise, as you recall the night of the cookout event at your neighbours’ backyard, when Namjoon lingered close by after sharing a quick chat with you, and when you caught him watching you from the side while you were helping your daughters with their dinner plates.

“I told myself after watching you go that night that I shouldn’t get my hopes up, since you seemed to have a lot going on already and I probably didn’t deserve any second of your time. But then I saw you at the supermarket and I couldn’t resist saying hello.” His eyes find yours. You have no idea what kind of expression you are giving him while you are loss for words, but Namjoon’s smile softens. “And just when I thought it couldn’t have been more than a coincidence, we got the call to your office and there you were. It feels like we just keep crossing paths with each other. As if I am made to make a move.”

Noticing that you have grown silent, Namjoon tilts his head and asks, “What’s wrong?”

With a bitter laugh, you can only shake your head. “Nothing, it’s just—” You bite your lips, hating the way your insecurities have always been able to come to the surface the moment you try to push against your boundaries, when you try to take risks like what you are doing tonight. But you simply cannot help it. The feeling is clawing at your chest that you can barely breathe. “You know you could’ve gotten home with someone else. Someone who isn’t—”

You try to look away, yet Namjoon isn’t having it. With his fingers on your chin, he turns your face gently so you are forced to look at him again. “Is not—what?”

Your throat feels tight and your mouth feels bitter when you answer, “Older. A single mom. A—”

Namjoon presses his thumb on your lips to stop you from speaking further. “Remember what I told you earlier, and I really meant it,” he says, his gaze softening and heating up at the same time. “You are special. If you had said no to me tonight, I would’ve gone home alone, and spent the rest of the night finishing the last cans of beer I still have in my fridge or eating any frozen leftovers I could find before passing out on the couch.”

You blink. His honesty surprises you, yet you would be lying if you told yourself that it doesn’t make you feel flattered to hear him choosing you.

As if there is a switch inside you that has been flipped, everything fades to the back of your mind. All the voices that keep putting you down are silenced. The only thing left in your mind is the image of this gorgeous man spending his night alone in his quiet home, eating one of those boxed meals you saw peeking through his grocery bag and downing beers until he falls asleep, and you decide that you are not having it.

Seems like you are not the only one who needs to take some risks tonight just to experience some changes in life.

“Yep. That’s it. I’m sending you dinner next time.”

Namjoon laughs. “What—?”

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you pull him down to you and press your lips on his, putting his words—and your thoughts—to silence with a kiss.

“I’m sorry for the mess. The perks of having little kids are always having too many things scattered around the house, and—”

It is still surprising to see how easy and quickly you change depending on the moment. You keep going from Miss In Control to a more subdued figure filled with insecurities. Namjoon knows that he shouldn’t, but he is adamant about changing that tonight, even if it makes him feel a myriad of things inside when you show multiple sides of you at once.

“It’s all right,” he cuts you off with a half smile, noticing how nervous you are getting about showing him your home.

As you move aside to start taking off your shoes and coat, Namjoon kicks his own shoes off and takes a quick glance around. Most of the lights are off, yet he can still see through the dim lighting to see what he needs to see.

Much like his own house, your place has an open space concept, where everything is visible from the foyer. He looks at the living room to his right, where the flat television hangs against the wall, surrounded by wooden shelves filled with books and trinkets and boxes filled with toys. To his left is the open kitchen, the room is slightly more spacious than his, and cleaner, with a hint of the scent coming from the last meal you cooked today still wafting through the air.

Truth be told, he doesn’t mind at all about how the house looks like at the moment. He even thinks that your home feels comfy, more welcoming and lively than his own, which makes him feel good and warm inside as he steps onto the threshold of your home.

Still, right now, he has other—more important—things to pay close attention to.

Namjoon waits until you are done taking your coat off before approaching you.

He places an arm around your shoulders, hinting at his need to get closer. When you show no sign of pushing him away, he pulls you towards him gently, and you willingly lean into him until you are engulfed completely in his warmth, and he feels your soft body pressing against his hard muscles. He bends down and your lips meet each other, warm and welcoming as they mesh into a kiss.

For a split second, Namjoon can feel you hesitating. But then your arms come up to wrap around him before returning the kiss. It feels gentle and soft, yet Namjoon can feel every cell in his body lighting up at the touch, and he allows that hope he ignored before to rise as he melts into the kiss

Namjoon is a firm believer that a person can tell quite a lot about the other by the way they kiss, and that the first kiss will define how the night will continue.

He feels you parting your lips slowly as your fingers curl into fists, balling the back of his shirt. He can taste the fruity taste of your lip-gloss which you put on during your toilet break before the two of you left the bar, and he can also taste a hint of the drink you had as he lightly brushes the tip of his tongue against yours.

The simple contact earns a soft hum from your throat, and then you tip your head back and open your mouth, asking him for more. He gladly gives it to you as he slides one hand up your waist and cups your cheek, deepening the kiss. Your grip around him tightens when his tongue pushes past your lips, bringing heat all over your body and his as he devours your mouth, and you respond by pressing your hips into his.

Feeling like he is burning from within, Namjoon starts to pull away. But you are not having it. You move your hand to his face, and then bring him back down until his lips are back on yours. You take charge this time, kissing him as if your very existence depends on it, and Namjoon smiles into the kiss as he follows your lead.

Tonight is going to be a good night.

As your mind grows hazy from the heated kiss, you start stumbling back until you are pressed against the front door.

It rattles under your weight, and starts making other noises when Namjoon presses harder against you the deeper the kiss you share. You feel his feet moving, sliding between your legs, only to stop when his toes come in contact with one of Hana’s squeaky toys that had somehow fallen in the foyer.

You break away from the kiss at the sound of his deep chuckle. The way he seems more amused than he is annoyed pleases you so that your body grows impossibly hotter. How can something so simple as a guy chuckling over a simple kid toy, completely understanding it instead of getting angry and complaining over something so trivial—just like someone you once knew and wish so badly to forget—look so incredibly hot?

Expecting to hear him say something about it, you lift your face to look at him, only for Namjoon to bend lower again and try to kiss your lips. Bunching his shirt with your fingers, you stop him and start pushing him through the dark hall and into the kitchen, where you know there won’t be any trail of toys getting in the way.

Namjoon lets you drag him around with a grin on his face. It seems to please him that you are the one taking the initiative, showing him that you want him just as much as he does.

As you push him deeper into the kitchen, your hands tracing his hard chest and your lips nipping his jawline, you wonder where all of this confidence is coming from.

It could be coming from the buzz rushing through your mind and body. It could also be this want inside you which has been lying dormant for so long, awakened simply by the heat of his kiss. Either way, you are surprised to find how easy it is to simply give in. To follow what your heart desires as if it is guiding you through the motions.

While most of the lights have been turned off when you left your house earlier, the light from the microwave is on, casting a soft, golden glow which falls nicely on him, accentuating every line—both on his face and his body—which you desire so badly to touch and kiss and taste.

You pull him down for that desirable kiss, and he dives straight down, his lips crashing into yours. And then he starts kissing you fast, hard, as if his very existence depends on this kiss. You kiss him back with the same need, taking his lip between your teeth, drawing a soft sound coming out of his throat. His chest rumbles against yours as he gently pushes you backwards.

Namjoon pins you against the kitchen counter, placing you between the hard counter and his rock-hard chest. He moves his knees between your legs, keeping them apart. You can feel his cock straining against his jeans as he bucks his hips forward, pressing roughly into your stomach. Then he moves his mouth to your neck, kissing, sucking, making you moan, distracting you from the object of his desire that you want so badly to touch.

Without unlatching his lips from your skin, Namjoon sweeps his fingers across your collarbone, finding the strap from your top that is already hanging off your shoulder. He pulls away, his dark gaze following his fingers as he unhooks the other strap off your shoulder until your top falls down to your waist, exposing your lacy dark purple bra which you had intentionally chosen for the night.

He watches closely as your chest rises and falls with your ragged breath, murmuring softly, “Beautiful. You are so hot, baby.”

Your entire body shudders with the sound of his deep voice, recognising the hunger in it. Heat forms in your belly after knowing that his words are meant for you. He slowly walks his palms up your body, reaching up to cup your breasts with his strong palms.

A moan slips out of your lips at his touch, when the gentle pressure he is giving on your mounds sends heated sparks through your body. The sound you are making seems to snap something in him, as he moves his mouth back to yours, kissing you softly, teasing, while his thumbs begin to move over your covered nipples in small circles.

You draw a sharp inhale of breath at the delightful sensation he is making you feel, which is swallowed by his kiss. Your chest rises, pressing your breasts into his palms. The shiver running through your body feels so intense, blocking everything else as you push your tongue back into his mouth at the same time your hands slip under his shirt.

His skin feels warm. His chest feels firm and broad. You can feel his breath hitching at the touch of your fingers, his body shivering as your hands start inching closer and closer to his cock as you walk them down his torso.

It draws a deep groan from him, yet he keeps kissing you. He continues to caress your breasts until your nipples grow hard against his palms, and that is when he finally moves his hands down. You only get to pop the button of his jeans open before he catches your wrists, stopping you from going further as he brings them to your back, pinning them together to confine you.

You push and strain against his grasp, only to fail when his hold is firm. Surprisingly, being restrained in his hold and losing control is not making you feel powerless. Instead, it becomes a complete turn-on to have someone taking control of you that your body heats up with a stronger need for more.

Shocked at this revelation, you pull back with a gasp.

“Let me touch you,” you whine as you try to pull your hands out of his, drawing a deep chuckle from him.

“Not yet, baby,” he murmurs against your lips. “I want to see all of you first.”

He kisses you again, deep enough to make you arch your back so your hips are pressed into his. You widen your legs and he presses forward, his toned thigh pressing at your pulsing center. The sensation you feel as you begin rubbing your covered pussy over his thigh feels explosive, and it is driving you insane that you cannot touch him at the same time.

You feel him smiling in the kiss, clearly enjoying this; your desperation and need, and the way you are chasing for pleasure even under his restraint. He moves his mouth to your neck again, nipping at the skin. You try to twist your arm to set yourself free, but Namjoon lifts his head to stop you with a look.

“These naughty hands need to stay back, baby. Do you hear me?” he asks as he guides your hands to rest against the small of your back, your wrists resting on the hard countertop pressing from behind you.

Your mouth falls open, but every complaint and defiance that you want to give him fades under his dark gaze. Pulling away, Namjoon grabs the hem of your top and pulls it over your head, dropping it behind him, before he once again guides your hands to return to their position on your back. He leans back just enough for him to run his gaze over your body, giving you an appreciative look while humming softly.

The heat of his gaze only brings back your insecurities, however, as you grow nervous under his trailing eyes, and you look away, casting a quick glance down your middle. Having two kids over the years has left a few things behind; light scars, stretch marks marring your skin, and uneven curves forming in places which you can only hide under your daily clothes. You realise only now one of the many reasons why you had never considered dating and being intimate again with someone—anyone—and much less have any interest in having hookups or one-night-stand.

Namjoon notices the change of mood in your silence. He captures your chin and gently draws your gaze back to his face. “Don’t be shy,” he murmurs as he presses a light kiss on your lips, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You blink, once again his words winning as you feel your heart strengthening, gaining back your confidence. “You really think so?” you ask him after taking an audible breath.

“God, yes,” he says with a slight groan in his voice, drawing a soft giggle out of you. “Don’t you ever question it, baby.”

Biting down your smile, your eyes flutter down with pleasure and relief. “Good.”

“Now, where were we?” he asks as he lets go of your chin, his arms dropping to his sides. He reaches down to unbutton your tight pants, yet you beat him to it when you take the hem of his shirt in your hands and help him pull it off, before tossing it away out of reach.

“Naughty girl. What did I say about those hands?” he asks, and then he is kissing you again to distract you from taking back control.

He wraps his arm around your waist. For a second, you expect him to lift you up and set you up on the counter. Just like those scenes you have often read in the spicy romance book you have edited over the years. But then he surprises you when he lifts you up to carry you away, taking you towards the dining table instead.

With your eyes fluttering close in the kiss, the only thing you notice is the sound of the chair scrapping on the floor, before he releases you and falls back. Your mind is hazy when you open your eyes, seeing him sitting back on the dining chair while guiding you to stand between his parted legs.

Swaying a little, you lean into his touch as he sneaks his fingers down the waistband of your tight pants and begins pulling them down. “Let me see these off, baby.”

He doesn’t have to say it twice, as you slip your thumbs down the band of your pants and begin wiggling it down your legs. You keep your eyes on him while kicking the pants away, ignoring the shudder running through your body at the heat of his gaze and the chill breeze falling on your exposed skin.

Sneaking a glance down your body, you follow his gaze to be able to see what he is seeing. You are relieved that you had at least thought of choosing a matching pair of new undergarments to wear tonight, instead of wearing your old mismatched ones like you usually do when you have to rush in the mornings.

Standing in front of him like this makes you feel self-conscious. But the desire that is so palpable in his eyes helps you ignore all unappealing thoughts you ever have about yourself.

Smiling coyly to him, you sweep your hands up your stomach, slowly reaching up over your breasts. His hands begin to clench on his side as he watches you kneading your covered breasts. You watch him licking his lips when you press your breasts until they come together, offering him with a gentle voice, “Do you like what you’re seeing? Do you want me to take this off too?”

“No, not yet. I want to enjoy seeing you like this a bit longer,” Namjoon answers you with a deep voice that sounds almost like a growl. “Come here.”

At his gentle command, your legs move on their own, taking you closer to him. He grabs your waist, keeping you steady as you climb onto his lap, your legs spreading wide around his waist and your arms come around his broad shoulders.

Being in this position allows you to feel everything. To feel more.

Every part of him feels hard against your soft body. His warmth comes pressing on every inch of your skin, allowing you to feel the heat rushing under, pooling from between your legs. You feel exposed, and the sensation is intensified as you have your legs opened for him.

Smiling, Namjoon walks his hand around your waist. With his palm splayed on your back, he gently pushes you forward. Once again, you collide into each other, your breasts are crushed against his chest, and your lips are entangled with his in a hard, needy kiss.

His kiss is slow, gentle, almost languid. Almost as if he is trying to savour the moment, yet it feels as if you are melting into him. You can still feel him taking control of this moment when his lips are pressing hard against yours and his tongue slipping into your mouth to swallow the sounds you are making.

In the rising pleasure, your brain is slowly turning into mush. Your eyes flutter close, and you revel in the sensations that he is bringing to your body, to every single touch and kiss. You drown yourself in his heated kiss, as he swallows your moans with his mouth and tongue. You lean into his strong hands as one moves up your stomach, cupping your breast and rubbing against your hardened nipple, and the other moves along the curves of your body, trailing down your waist to your hips, before cupping your soft bottom.

His palm presses harder into your soft flesh, making you grow alert of your own movements, finally noticing that your body seems to have gained a mind of its own, moving and grinding his lap in the heat of the moment.

Your covered center starts growing hot and wet as you keep rubbing against his hips. A gasp escapes your throat as you feel his covered hard-on pressing at your pulsing center. Using his palm, Namjoon guides your steady rocking, each thrust forward falling in tune with each thrust and stroke of his tongue in your mouth.

Within moments, the heat inside your core rising into small waves of pleasure. Drunken in lust, you lean into him more to chase it, rocking harder, faster, pressing more into his hard cock until you feel like you are hanging on the edge of release.

“Oh, God,” you gasp against his mouth, moments too close to your first orgasm.

Namjoon mutters a curse, and his hands tighten on the soft flesh of your bottom, putting everything into a halt. He flips you around to face away from him, doing it with such ease as if you weigh nothing. As you fall back against his chest, your knees drape over his thighs, spreading wide, your throbbing pussy facing away from his heat, away from the its final release.

“You need relief, baby?” His voice sounds thick as he whispers to your ear. Without waiting for your answer, his fingers zero in on the exact place where you need them to be, as he begins rubbing your clit from over your delicate panties. “Hmmm? I need you to answer me. Let me know what you want.”

“Yes,” you hiss at his touch, barely able to answer his question while urging him on as you rock your hips into his touch. Namjoon’s other hand moves up to cup your breast, kneading and squeezing until you feel your nipple growing hard under your bra. The ache building on your breasts pulses in the same rhythm as the throbbing you feel building on your clit, which he presses the pad of his fingers onto, moving them in circles.

“God, Namjoon,” you whine, already panting when he keeps touching all the right places, inciting all the reactions from your body as heat rises from your core. Reaching down, you place your hand over his, your fingers pressing atop of his strong digits as you press against them, causing his touch to grow firm and steady, before you slip your fingers under and slide your panties aside for him.

Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he groans deeply. “Oh, yeah, that’s it, baby. Offer that sweet little pussy for me.”

Your cheeks flush with warmth upon hearing his words, and then the warmth spreads through your body when his fingers move to touch your flesh. His fingers are big and strong, yet delicate at the same time. They glide over your slit, which has grown embarrassingly wet, capturing every essence of your arousal as he moves them between your folds. You press your pelvis down to meet his touch, urging him on, and he complies by working his middle finger inside you.

It feels like forever since the last time you have had sex, and it surely shows because you can already feel your orgasm building the second he starts pumping his finger inside you. The pleasure feels maddening. Enough to make you lose control of yourself as your body rocks with him. You don’t even recognise the sounds coming out of your throat as you embrace the sensations he brings out of you.

As he feels you giving in to the pleasure, Namjoon adds a second finger, stretching you further.

Your head falls back on his shoulder as you cry out with pleasure. Your body falls lax against him, powerless against his touch. So he moves his other arm down, wrapping it around your waist to keep you from falling as he continues thrusting his fingers in and out, all while pressing the heel of his palm against your clit until you are weeping with desire. When he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, your pussy clutches on emptiness.

Needing friction, or something to relief this new need of yours, you begin pressing your wet mound against his thigh, intending to start rubbing against it until you find some kind of release. But Namjoon stops you by delivering a sharp slap, right between your legs.

“Naughty,” he growls in your ear. “I thought this pussy is mine?”

Your hips shoot up at the lingering ache, which awakens the throbbing inside your pussy, causing your mind to go fuzzy with the mixed of pain and pleasure he brings to your body.

Namjoon spanks your pussy again, lighter this time, before going slightly harder when coming back for the third time. Then, as if he knows that you are about to explode, he shoves two fingers right back inside you and starts fucking you with them, moving hard and rough, no longer holding back. It feels intense, sending you light speed towards the peak of your pleasure.

With a cry slipping out of your lips, your head falls back on his shoulder as the wave of pleasure engulfs you. Digging your nails into his forearms, you ride his fingers, bucking against each thrust of his hand, your walls clenching tightly around him, and your toes curling underneath. Your orgasm comes to you strongly, going on and on while Namjoon keeps his fingers wedged inside you, and you can feel your walls contracting around them as you come all over them.

Dear God, help me.

You find yourself praying. Never before had you ever lost control the way you do now. Never once have you ever felt so much pleasure, to make you feel something so intense that you feel like you are losing your mind.

Namjoon waits until you come down from your release before easing his fingers out of you. Your body grows limp against his, causing him to wrap his arms tighter around you to hold you still. His lips find your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss while he smooths your panties back in place.

“That’s it, sweet mama. Relax with me,” he murmurs in your ear, helping you calm down before rearranging your position until you come to face him once more, your legs straddling his toned thighs, pressing against his muscles, his warmth, and the rapid pounding of his heartbeat under your palms.

“Everything okay?”

You are still too delirious that you can barely think straight, yet you manage to nod and whisper, “Yeah. Everything’s good.”

Looking into his eyes, you reach down between your bodies and press your palm over his covered bulge. “But I’m not sure that you’re feeling the same.”

Groaning deeply, Namjoon’s eyes flutter to close. You continue stroking his covered cock, feeling it hardening under your touch and pushing against his pants that is partly undone. “Keep touching me like that, mama. And I’ll fuck you right here, right now. Or I’ll take you right on top of that counter, right where you’ll be making breakfast for your sweet girls the first morning they’re home.”

His threat draws a moan from deep within your throat. Biting your lips, you steal a glance towards the kitchen counter. As tempting as it sounds to follow your wanton desire, to be taken hard and rough right where you spend most of your days and mornings, you want something different. You don’t want this to end so quickly, for the night to feel so instant, and you want to savour this pleasure for as long as you are allowed to.

“Mmm…No, we can’t have that,” you whisper, turning to him to nip his jaw, making him groan. Carefully, you step back from his lap. Your legs are trembling when you try to stand on your own, yet you muster a smile as you calmly say, “Come.”

You hold out your hand and he grabs it as he rises to his feet. He follows you down the hall and up the stairwell. Past the landing which is surrounded by framed pictures of yourself with your family and your sweet girls and their creative drawings filling the walls, you continue walking upstairs, feeling more self-conscious the closer you get to your bedroom.

Right before your nerves begin to get in the way, Namjoon’s arms come around you, holding you to his chest as you crash through the doorway to your bedroom. His lips capture yours, swallowing the sound of your laughter until you fall backwards on the bed.

Standing on the foot of the bed, Namjoon stands tall, a solid figure standing at the center of your world of chaos. He says nothing as he runs his gaze over your body, appreciating what he sees one last time which brings back your confidence. All for knowing that he is liking what he sees.

Drawn by the urge to touch him, to feel, you push yourself up and start tugging his pants down. “Off—” you murmur as you struggle to peel the damn thing off of him, earning his chuckle. Namjoon helps you halfway, stopping briefly to pull something out of his back pocket before he tosses his whole pants away. He wastes no more time to continue where he left off, as he pushes you back to the bed and lowers himself to you.

Your arms go around his shoulders to welcome him. Your eyes meet each other again, allowing you to see something that you failed to notice before. Behind his heated gaze, the warm dimple smile, and the alluring words filled with his raw desire, lies another emotion haunting like a shadow.

An emotion that you know too damn well as it mirrors your own.

Desperation.

Swallowing hard, you feel the same emotion coming out of you in strides; the desperation to belong and to be happy; to be able to move through life without being haunted by the unwarranted fear of getting hurt. The desperation to feel.

Allowing that emotion to take over, you pull him down to you and kiss him deeply. You run your hands down his back, pressing at his spine until he lowers his hips onto yours. You can feel his hard cock pressing on you, its wet tip sticking out from the top of his briefs, rubbing against your skin. You regret not having the chance to have a look at it, to appreciate it through more than your dainty touch. Yet you cannot deny the desperate need to feel him inside you, filling you up until there is nothing left of you when he is done.

Arching your back, you rock against him, pressing your tender center against his bulge. His mouth unlatches from yours, and then he pulls the lacy cups of your bra with a rough tug, tucking them under your breasts to push them up. He keeps his palms on them, touching them directly this time, skin to skin, bringing all the shudders back and rising twofolds as you cry out his name.

His mouth finds your neck, and the touch of his lips is almost enough to make you come and unravel right there and then, yet you manage to hold back with a bite of your lip. Without taking his mouth off of you, Namjoon runs his hand down, finding your center and pressing down. The pleasure sparks through your body like fireworks as he rubs in circles against your covered center, pressing against your slit, rubbing at your covered clit, and then finding your wetness to draw out more essence out of you.

Every nerve in your body comes awake and lights up at the same time, allowing you to feel everything that he is giving you. Engulfed in the pleasure, you barely feel him as Namjoon starts moving down, spreading his fingers down your thighs to part your legs for him, before plunging his head between your quivering thighs.

You feel a soft tug at your panties, and then cold breeze touches your skin as Namjoon slides the center of your panties aside, exposing your tender pussy. “I wanted to taste you so badly,” he murmurs against your skin as he presses his lips on the apex of your thigh, then he moves to the other side, before reaching to the center, drawing a sharp cry out of you when he presses a kiss right at your folds.

His tongue drags through your flesh before he sucks gently on your swollen bud. A shiver shoots right up through your body as pleasure sparks from beneath, and he starts fucking you with his tongue. In and out he presses and licks with his warm, soft tongue, tasting your essence with a deep hum, while his mouth keeps stealing a kiss and sucking, intensifying the pleasure.

With your hands sinking into the sheets beneath you, your hips begin to move, rocking against his mouth and riding the sensation as it grows more and more intense. You lift your head to watch him work. The look he gives you when he returns your gaze causes your body to twitch, your muscles tightening as pleasure coils through your core.

With a grin, Namjoon buries his face deeper, his teeth grazing at your clit before lapping at the swollen bud with his tongue to take away the pinch of pain. The sensation sends your body falling back. Still rocking your hips to ride the pleasure, you twist the sheets in one hand, and then take a handful of his short hair with the other.

It doesn’t take long before the familiar wave of pleasure starts rolling through your body, rising intensely from the depth of your core. Your breath quickens as you are climaxing into his mouth. It comes so strongly that you can feel it rushing all the way down to your toes. A series of breathless moans come out of your lips at the same pace as the pulses of pleasure coming alight from inside as your orgasm rolls through your body.

Your head is ringing with the waves of your orgasm that you barely aware of how you are pulling at his hair, twisting the short strands in your grasp as you writhe beneath him. Yet he doesn’t stop. Not even when he feels you slowly coming down from your high.

Namjoon continues to lap at your taste, licking away your release as he murmurs gently against your mound, “Fuck, you taste so damn good, baby.”

His voice fades in and out of you, until he slips a finger inside you, pressing against your inner walls. He pushes right in, curling the tip as he pulls out, finding the sweet spot that sends another jolt of pleasure through your body. Realising this, he adds another finger and starts working them at the same rhythm as the movement of his tongue. Your legs begin shaking, your hips are rising against his other palm that is resting on your lower belly to keep you down, but nothing holds you from erupting as the force of your second orgasm quickly rolls through you, sending you over the edge with a cry.

You feel a shift on the bed as Namjoon moves on top of you and presses his lips on yours. The remnants of your orgasm is still pulsing through you, and your ears are still ringing, that you can only take what he is giving you, letting him bring you back to the present with his kiss.

Once you manage to catch your breath, you bring your hands up to him and start pushing his briefs down his hips. He rises slightly from you, taking away his weight and his warmth as he kicks his briefs down his ankle and away. His hand reaches down, wrapping his fingers around his hard girth.

This time, you take the chance to appreciate his beauty. Just like his hard body, his cock seems beautiful, big and thick and heavy even in his strong palm.

With his eyes on your face, Namjoon begins lowering himself on you. Your hips rise to welcome him when you feel his cock falling heavy on your stomach. Your hand reaches down between you, as if you are under a spell. Your fingers wrap around him, drawing a soft gasp from his lips.

Licking your lips, you watch yourself giving him a few light strokes. He seems to enjoy this, as his hips slowly move to return each stroke, each brush of your palm with a thrust of his cock. Groaning deeply, Namjoon bends down to cover you with his hard body. His lips find your neck, kissing the column of your throat as his fingers return to your mounds, pressing into your slit and using the slickness of your arousal and release to move around your entrance.

“Namjoon, please—” Your breath catches when you feel the tip of his finger pressing at your entrance, pushing against your sensitive walls. He enters you slowly with his fingers. It feels delightful, yet you are ready to feel more. “Mhhh…not enough,” you whine breathlessly, “I want you…inside…now.”

He chuckles against your throat, and the vibrations you feel coming from his body aren’t exactly helping to lessen the pool of desire between your legs, nor the tight clench of your walls around his fingers. He gives your pussy a few more thrusts of his fingers before he pulls them out, and reaches out to the other side of the bed.

The soft crinkle sound of a foil gets your heartbeat speeding up in your chest. It’s happening, the voice in your head whispers. Excitement rolls through you, and a wicked through flashes through your head when you meet his gaze again.

You bite your lip and smile, and then you lift your hands, pushing against his shoulders to bring him down onto the mattress. You follow him as he falls back, and then you climb on top of him, enjoying the thrill rushing through you when you see the shock clearly flashing through his gaze.

He grips your hips as you straddle him, keeping you steady until you are sitting in the right position. So right that you can feel his hard cock pressing at your slick center from beneath.

“Well, damn,” he chuckles as he watches you press down your hips on him. “That’s it. Take control, mama. Show me what you want from me.”

You make a humming sound as you begin rocking over him, pressing down against his length. Your panties have grown completely soiled, placed improperly over your mound that you can feel him partly rubbing against your skin. “You know what I want,” you whisper, moaning when you feel his girth rubbing at your clit.

Hoping to feel more, you continue rocking, rubbing your center along the length of his cock. But it isn’t enough. The panties keep getting in the way just when you are close to getting what you want. You reach down to begin peeling the damn thing off of you when Namjoon takes over.

“Let me help you with that,” he says, before he suddenly lifts himself up to a sitting position. His hands are quick to catch your waist to stop you from falling back, keeping you on his lap as he moves his hand to your back.

His eyes look down on your heaving chest, and then his hands are pulling at your undergarments. Starting from your bra, as he expertly peels it off of you within a blink of an eye, then continuing to reach down. The ripping sound of your panties as they fall apart fills the room before you can feel yourself being freed from its presence. The strong pull that he gives on the flimsy fabric barely feels like anything on your skin, your mind too muddled to process it until it is too late.

The moment it dawns on you what is happening, there is nothing else that you can do but to watch with wide eyes, mouth gaping in shock, as Namjoon lifts your ruined panties to his lips and breathes in.

“You won’t be needing them for a while,” he says with a hum at the sound of your sharp inhale of breath.

“You’re so bad.” An incredulous laugh comes out of you as he tosses the tattered panties away.

His hands return to your waist then and he pulls you closer, settling you down nicely on his lap as he asks, “Maybe I am. Are you going to punish me for being a bad boy?”

“Maybe I will,” you tease him as you run your fingers up his chest, pushing him back down. “Naughty boy.”

The glimmer of the foil he is holding between his fingers catches your attention. You pick it up, ripping the foil and letting the rubber fall on your palm. “Is this okay?”

He nods, and then his eyes darken as you gently slide the condom down the length of his cock. Your can feel him twitching under your touch, his head falling back briefly with a groan coming out of his throat when the tips of your fingers meet his skin. Once he is perfectly covered, you move back into position.

Namjoon gently guides you back over him, straddling him once again without anything else getting in the way this time.

You lean forward and place a kiss on his lips, one that feels a bit too sweet and shy. For a moment, your confidence wanes. Being on top of him, unrestrained, and being in complete control makes you feel subconscious with yourself. It makes you feel insecure, suddenly feeling worried that you might not be enough.

As you sit up, your pussy rocks against his cock. You can feel his girth pressing against the dampness which has been growing between your legs, the heat of his body radiates from him and it transfers through your body with each pulse of his blood that you feel against you.

His fingers find their place between your legs, rubbing your clit in slow circles, drawing moans after moans, shudders rolling through your body that you begin moving in response to his touch. Your hips buck up against his hand, desperate for friction. You continue rolling your body as he presses just a bit harder, drawing yet another moan from your lips that comes together with the intense shiver surging from your core.

Enjoying the way you are reacting to him, he rises up to steal a kiss, chuckling softly against your mouth when he feels the twitch of your hips when his cock is pressing harder against your folds. He pulls back, showing you his wicked grin that has your heart beating rapidly.

You lift your hips, and he reaches down to position his cock against your opening. Your body instantly trembles when you feel him nudging against your pussy, spreading your entrance to allow himself in. Then you begin to slide down on him, taking it slow as you take his cock inside you, inch by delicious inch. Your legs quiver around him as you feel him spreading your tight walls, yet you welcome him with a slow moan, allowing yourself to take him deeper as you continue going down, until he is almost fully inside you and you are nearly resting on his hips.

A pulse rocks through you once, and you carefully lift yourself up, sliding up his length and coming back down, getting deeper in your descent.

“You are so perfect,” he whispers to you as you continue riding his cock, keeping a slow pace as you adjust yourself to his size.

Namjoon falls back, letting you take control. Something that no other person has ever done before. He keeps his eyes on you as you continue moving on top of him, sliding up and down the length of his cock, while embracing the waves of pleasure that you get to feel from your constant rocking. His eyes are filled with admiration as he watches you move, your head falling back at the height of your pleasure, your chest arching, showing him the sight of your shaking breasts.

“You are so fucking hot,” he moans, taking your breasts in his hands. You relish every single sensation you are feeling with a moan. It feels incredible. Not just this—the sex, the feeling of him being buried inside your heat, filling you up and giving you pleasure—but also for feeling like you are free.

Sitting naked on top of such a gorgeous man, rocking up and down his cock, enjoying the pleasure without your nerves getting in the way, your insecurities left forgotten. It feels so damn empowering to be owning up to your sexuality, to your wanton desire, after having it denied for so long. All because of your haunting past making you feel like you are less than the person you are now.

These thoughts push you to ride him harder, faster, your fingers sinking into the sheets on either side of him to anchor you against him, while his fingers grow tighter on your hips to help you ride him to chase your pleasure.

“That’s it, baby,” he urges you on with a breathy voice, deep groans slipping out of him when you begin fucking him wildly. “Go on, let it go, mama.”

Holding you up against him, Namjoon begins rocking his hips, thrusting up to meet you in your descend. The maddening pleasure rocks through you, and another wave of climax sets off, coiling from your core, up to your lower belly. And right as you are ready to plunge into your climax, Namjoon bends forward, capturing one of your nipples with his mouth and begins sucking, while he reaches up to pinch the other with his fingers.

With a sharp cry, you unravel completely without fail. Your orgasm comes to you not in waves but an explosion, the pain only intensifies the pleasure as it hits, and your body trembles as you embrace it.

Everything fades in and out as your mind and body recovers from the intense high. Your legs are quivering too much that you fall onto his chest, and Namjoon carefully flips you to the side until you are on your back. Ears once again ringing, the sounds of him moving on the sheets seem so distant. But you can feel the dip when he lowers himself on you, his lips finding yours, bringing you back, and then pressing against your neck to quiet down the rapid pulsing of blood surging under your skin.

Once your mind regains clarity, you notice his hand moving. You open your eyes when you cannot feel his touch, and realise that he is giving himself some lazy strokes. “You haven’t gotten yours,” you whisper with a raspy voice, and his grin returns.

“You’ve already came too many times, so—”

Shaking your head, you reach up and pull him back to you. “I can’t be the only one feeling good tonight,” you insist as you capture his lips, enticing him with a light bite. As he returns the kiss, your legs spread open for him, welcoming him back to you. “I want to make you feel good too.”

Groaning, Namjoon deepens the kiss. Still stroking himself, he uses the other hand to gently touch your tender pussy, making sure that you won’t hurt if he continues. “Are you sure?” he murmurs against your lips, before feeling you nod.

Unable to wait long, he quickly gets between your legs again. He covers you with his heat, his toned chest pressing down against your body, delightfully engulfing you with his warmth. Then his hips rock forward, pressing the wet tip of his stiff cock against your pulsing heat. Your back arches the moment you feel him pushing, just enough until you feel the tip penetrating your entrance.

“Namjoon—” you gasp out his name, and his hands come down to your hips, holding you still as he enters you, thrusting deep and slow.

Your legs are spread wider, giving him room to get as deep as he possibly can until your hips are flushed against each other.

Fuck yes, you can hear yourself screaming in your head, while your mouth gapes open with a breathless moan at how full you are feeling with him snugged inside your pussy.

“God, fuck—you feel amazing,” he breathes out as he too becomes still.

Your body clenches around his cock at hearing his words, loving how his praise is stroking at your ego. It seems that your body has gotten used to him so well that he feels like a perfect fit inside you.

“You don’t feel too bad yourself,” you playfully tease him, making him groan deeply that you can feel his entire body vibrating all the way to your core.

“Not bad, huh?” he groans, almost sounding feral when he continues his gentle rocking. “Guess I’ll have to stop holding back, then.”

With a groan, he pulls back almost all the way out and thrusts back into you, rocking both of you against the mattress as he fucks you into it. You grab tightly on the messy sheets beneath you, already tangled by the previous rocking and fucking and growing even messier now that he is picking up pace immediately. It feels intense, making you feel delirious as he moves in and out of you rapidly. And it feels so damn good that you just don’t want it to stop.

“Oh, baby...so perfect,” he gasps, and you open your eyes to see his eyes glazing over with pleasure as he gets lost in your body.

It turns you on so badly to see a man unraveling this way—to be so lost in his pleasure and growing feral as he gives in completely to the sensation. At the same time, it makes you feel powerful, knowing that you are the one making him this way. For someone like him to let his guard down and show you the real part of him. To let you see how raw and passionate he becomes when he is bringing pleasure to both of your bodies.

It makes you feel so hot, and it feels so good, that it practically sends you straight into your final climax. To unravel the same way he does at the pleasure of his lovemaking.

“Keep tightening around me like that, and I won’t last long,” he warns you, while you can only hold back a grin. As if you will take his words like you would to a threat.

You run your hands up his chest, feeling up his toned muscles as they strain with each thrust he is giving you, before you reach up to the back of his neck and grab a handful of his short hair. A smile grows on your face when he lets out another groan, and his hips nearly buckle and twitch as his rocking begins to grow haste.

He’s close.

“Oh, fuck. I’m coming,” he groans, although it almost sounds like he is shouting.

“Yes, please. Come with me. I’m also there,” you whimper breathlessly when your orgasm starts to build.

His grip on your hips tightens as he begins pumping into you fast and hard, hitting all the right spots. You almost believe that he is also growing firmer, harder, bigger, that the only thing you can feel is him, rubbing against your throbbing walls and pushing you over the edge.

A scream slips out of you when the orgasm hits like a massive wave. Your back is almost lifted completely off the bed as your entire body vibrates with pleasure. You can hear him shouting under the sound of your rapid heartbeat, before you feel him pulsing, spilling his heat into you as he joins you in his own orgasm.

Your legs are wrapped around his hips while your arms are hooked around his neck as you hold onto him, refusing to let go as you relish the waves of your orgasm until they begin to settle. You have barely gotten back control of your breathing when he leans down, capturing your lips into a kiss.

The kiss is slow, almost languid, and just as gentle as the movement of his hands as he runs them down your sweaty body. You can still the spasms of your climax lingering as he slowly pulls out of you, allowing you to feel his presence even as he pulls away, dropping right beside you with a soft grunt.

Your eyes are already fluttering to close while he takes his time taking care of his soiled condom and tossing it away to the trash. Yet you are still coherent when he returns, engulfing you in his strong arms, filling your breath with his scent.

“That was fucking amazing,” he mumbles against your skin as you feel his lips pressing on your bare shoulder.

“Hmm…yes, it was…”

A sigh leaves your lips. The content feeling weaving through your body steals the words that you want so badly to say.

Incredible. Astounding.

“Magical,” you find yourself whispering, drawing a soft chuckle from him.

You look at him through your hazy eyes, finding him looking back at you with a different shadow lingering in his gaze which makes you want to say the words that you never expected you would say to him.

Stay the night.

The words die on your tongue as sleep is slowly dragging you down. You try to fight it, even if you aren’t quite sure about saying those words out loud. You have no idea what will come out of this. All you can think about is that you don’t want this to end too soon.

“The girls are out all weekend, aren’t they?” His voice breaks the silence, forcing you to open your eyes.

“Yes, they’re staying at their grandparents. I won’t have to pick them up until Monday afternoon,” you breathlessly answer, recalling faintly how your mother had offered to take Suzy to school and Hana to kindergarten so you wouldn’t have to drive all the way to her house on a Sunday, expecting you to sleep through your hangover and spend the day resting. “Why are you asking?”

“I just wasn’t sure how they would react coming home to find a grown-ass man snuggling with their mom.” He softly chuckles, and in a brief moment of silence, you see a different look appearing in his eyes. A part of him that seems more vulnerable coming out of him in waves, right before he asks you, “Unless you want me out of here?”

Once again, you can see yourself in his gaze. To once again share the same emotions, the same vulnerability which feels too damn familiar. Deep down, you start wishing that you didn’t see it. Because seeing this side of him only makes you care a lot more than you should for someone who is only supposed to be your one-night-stand. Because seeing it only makes you want more.

You close your eyes and try not to think too deeply about it. Not when your mind is still muddled from the wild sex you just had with him. And when his touch is still lingering on your skin.

You can worry about this tomorrow, you hear the same small voice in your head whispering, and you decide that you are going to listen this time.

Pushing yourself up, you pull the blanket from the foot of the bed and drag it up to cover both of your nakedness before sliding back to him. “Nope, you’re staying,” you firmly say as you tuck him in. “I promised to make you dinner, but I really don’t have any energy left to leave the bed right now, so you can make it up by helping me make breakfast tomorrow.”

Namjoon laughs. He visibly relaxes beside you when he mutters, “I love it when you boss me around.”

You stop to look at him, biting your lips before asking, “Would you mind if I keep doing that?”

His smile softens, and the alluring dimple returns for a brief second as he leans in to kiss your temple. “Boss me around anytime, mama. I’ll be good. I promise.”

Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this story, please leave a like and reblog to share with your friends and let me know what you think. See you in the next one! PS. You can get to know Jin the bartender and read his story in Blurred Lines.

#namjoon scenarios #namjoon smut #k-vanity #bangtanwhq #namjoon fanfic #namjoon scenario #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #namjoon x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader

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alphajocklover · 1 day

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InstaJock: Going Viral

**Hey! This is my entry for @occamstfs Viral Transformation Challenge. Congrats on getting 2,000 followers, and thank you for beta reading this and helping me edit it. I hope I can get to 2,000 followers myself one day! For those who are new to my stories, this does connect to the plot established in my blog, but the concept is simple enough you should be able to follow along even if you don't usually read my stuff! I hope you all enjoy!**

When I talk about the InstaJock App Phenomenon – which I seem to do a lot. What is this, the 17th InstaJock related post? I need to diversify more – I usually talk about the transformation aspects and not the app itself. That’s partially because the transformation is the most interesting and hottest part, but it’s also because I haven’t been able to take a good look at the app. Even with all the protective spells and equipment I have, I can’t use a phone with InstaJock on it for very long without getting an urge to set up an account.

Until now.

With some help from the devilishly handsome (and literally devilish) Nick, I’ve been able to get my hands on some better equipment and better explore the app. I was able to spend a couple hours on it before I needed to quit, and actually got some very interesting information, mainly about how the app works post-transformation. I had always assumed that once a user got transformed into a jock, they’d ignore the app from then on unless they wanted to change someone. I was very, very wrong, not just about that but about the purpose of the app itself. It’s not just for making people into jocks: it’s for finding the best ones.

The app generally works like any other social media app, with its members posting about their interests. It’s set up is a lot like Instagram, where pictures and videos are the main format used for posting, but what really makes it different from other social media apps is the content. You can probably guess what an app full of buff cocky jocks looks like, but I’ll confirm it for you: the app is a thirst trap paradise.

The entire app is stuffed with half naked – and sometimes fully naked – photos of buff jocks, ones of all different kinds. If you can think up a jock related stereotype, they have a full hashtag dedicated to it. Just buff jocks playing sports, flexing and making out with other hot people, for as far. I know that doesn’t sound too different from normal social media apps, as most have a healthy NSFW side, but the posts have more in common then just showing jocks. Each and every post, every one that I saw, mentioned a Master. Some were talking about how they were getting pumped up at the gym for Master, some were talking about how they loved being jocks and were so glad Master had found them, and some were literally begging for Master to notice them, often wantonly describing how they’d debase themselves and be the sluttiest jock ever, all for him. Everyone on the app would post at least once a day about this mysterious Master. It doesn’t seem to matter if the jock is a dom, a sub, a top, a bottom, in a relationship, single, gay or even straight, all of them wanted this mysterious unnamed master – so much so they seemed to completely change personalities whenever he is mentioned. It seems instaJock has an additional side effect I didn’t know about till now: complete and utter devotion to their Master.

It took me a while, and some covert interviewing of a number of jocks in their DMs, but I think I figured out what's happening. The Jocks aren’t just posting for fun, they’re competing with each other. InstaJock isn’t really a social media app, it’s a sort of ranking app. Every day the jocks log on, post a picture of themselves with a caption somehow related to their Master, and leave likes on some of the other posts, usually the ones they find hot. If a jock’s post gets enough likes though, they get what every jock wants, what all of them are trying to get. They get to Go Viral.

Going Viral on IntsaJock isn’t like going viral on a regular app. It essentially means you’ve gotten enough likes, been reposted enough times, and have become popular enough on the site… that Master has noticed you. That's what the social media part of the app is really for. It’s just a way for Master’s jocks to organize themselves so only the hottest ones show up on his feed. If he really likes you, he’ll do more than just look too. Soon that Jock will disappear from his regular life, never to be seen again, whisked away to become a part of Master’s personal harem. This entire time the app has been about one thing: creating lovestruck sex slaves for the man who created InstaJock.

Like most actual social media apps, InstaJock jumps from one thing to another, and what's viral is always changing. But there are two tags that are always trending on InstaJock. The first, and most popular, is #JockMaster, which is only ever used by this mysterious Master when he makes a post. I’ve seen his account. He never shows his face on it, but from what little of his body that makes it into the photos, he’s… enchanting. As much as I hate to admit it, seeing just a bit of that creep almost made me drool. He usually only posts a couple times a week, as opposed to the jock who posts daily, but everything he posts goes viral on the app in moments. I’ll admit, there's something about his posts that is just… hypnotic. I almost set up an account after seeing one myself, and probably would have if Nick wasn’t there to stop me.

The other tag that's always trending is… more interesting, at least to me. It’s #MastersBoyfriend. It’s another tag used only by Master, and one he uses whenever he posts a picture of one particular member of his harem.

Whenever he posts pictures… of my Uncle John.

I finally know who took my Uncle. I know who this Master is. I suspected it was him for a while, but now I’m sure. The man who made InstaJock and the man who turned my Uncle into a slutty buff himbo are one in the same. I finally have proof.

So now what?

**The identity of the person behind InstaJock AND the person behind my Uncle's transformation and kidnapping has finally been revealed! Been working up to this for a long time, and I'm glad to keep this story moving forward! Hope you liked it as much as I do! Thank you to @occamstfs once again for being absolutely awesome and inspiring!**

#muscle growth tf #muscle tf #jock tf #jock transformation #jockification #nerd to jock #instajock tf #occam2000 #The Master TF

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machveil · 2 days

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Can't believe you're gonna make me simp for this man while I'm at work-

LET ME KISS HIS SCARS BETTER REPEATEDLY DAILY ON THE BED ON THE DESK ON THE KITCHEN COUNTER WHERE NO GOD CAN SEE OR JUDGE I WILL WORSHIP THE MAN WITH WAR WOUNDS THE WAY HE OUGHT TO BE -🐸

Kiss it Better

sometimes a kiss makes things feel better— or a few dozen! headcanons for smoochin’ their scars: Simon “Ghost” Riley, John “Soap” MacTavish, König, Sebastian Krueger

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

Simon Riley has been on the receiving end of a lot, he’s used to it - mishaps during training, wounds during deployments, not to mention the occasional bumps and bruises from daily life. what he wasn’t used to receiving was the feeling of your lips on the rough, patchy parts of his skin

”What’chya doin’, love?”, voice warm as he watches you press kisses to his scarred chest. he’d told you about some of them, grazes and nicks, close calls with blades, “Nothing, Si.”. a content hum resonates in his chest, a hand resting on the back of your head as you continue - kissing from scar to scar

he was indifferent towards the scars - a part of his job, but when you littered kisses over them? the warmth that bloomed in his chest was welcomed. lounging in bed with you, the tv idly playing in the background as he combs his fingers through your hair, the domestic moment is pure bliss for Simon

pressing his own kiss to your hairline, he cracks a smile when you chuckle, nipping at his collarbone. “Careful, you’re supposed t’be kissin’ ‘em, lovie.”, he says, tugging your hair a little.

“Could leave a couple new marks for you.”, you mumble, smiling against his skin when he gently scratches your scalp

John “Soap” MacTavish:

for every kiss you place on his scars he’s doubling them and giving them back. Johnny is a sucker for when you kiss his scars - getting them can be horrifying depending on what happened, but when you’re pecking his arms? peppering kisses over his scarred muscles? he’s thinking about banging his knee into your coffee table ‘accidentally’ so you’ll kiss it better

“Wait, go back— missed a spot, mo ghaol.”, Johnny happily says, hand cupping your chin as he smiles at you, guiding you to press a kiss to his shoulder. the scar is barely visible - probably a nick from training or bumping into something, but he’s more than happy to feel your lips against the small mark, “Ya started this, gotta kiss ‘em all.”, he insists

he’s living for the attention, thumb pressed to your cheek as he gently guides you to each scar - some completely visible, others you have to squint at. and he’s gushing, cooing sweetly at you about how nice your lips feel against his skin, how you should do this more often

and he when you’re done? he’s pressing you down against the couch, a hand holding your wrists above your head as he kisses you silly - he’s laughing, dopey smile on his lips as he sloppily pecks you. “Hold still, mo chridhe! You’re squirmin’ too much—“, he chuckles, accent thick between quick kisses

“John! John— let go! It tickles!”, you complain, his stubble rubbing against your neck as he playfully bites at you

König:

it took a while for König to reveal his marred skin to you - scars, freckles, and moles all hidden beneath his uniform and civvies. despite his confidence and cocky nature as a Colonel, behind closed doors König worries. ever since his childhood people had pointed and mocked him, and back then he wasn’t charging into the field receiving wounds

but he trusts you, and when his sniper hood is awkwardly tugged off by large, calloused hands? his icy blue gaze meets yours, his face on display - a small scar over against his eyebrow, a cut across the corner of his lips, a scattering of roughed up skin against his cheek. he doesn’t explain what happened, how he got his scars and wounds, but you don’t pry. instead, when your first instinct is to press a kiss to his long since healed cheek?

he freezes, breath hitching - König was expecting you to be appalled, to leave his apartment with knit eyebrows and disappointment in your eyes. he wasn’t expecting such gentle, careful adoration. and when you move to kiss his crooked nose, the bridge slanted slightly, he feels his chest tighten with relief, heart hammering. “Oh, liebling—“, shaky hands moving to hover above your hips, he swallows, “You don’t have to.”, he murmurs

his stomach flips when you kiss the corner of his lips, right where the nick against them is. he lets his eyes flutter shut when you tell him you want to, the he’s handsome and ever so charming - words he never thought he’d hear

“So pretty—“, you mumble, moving to peck the small scar the splits his eyebrow, “You look perfect, König.”

Sebastian Krueger:

prideful bastard, he’s showing off each and every scar - telling you exactly what happened. it doesn’t matter that his body has a reminder that he was nicked by a blade, “Ja, the man that did this won’t lay a hand me again, meine Herz.”, it’s almost like he’s bragging about them

Krueger cracks jokes about some of his more serious wounds, waving off anything he considers boring. the small scrape on his hip? ignore that he accidentally hip checked the corner of a table, look at this one! it’s the size of your thumb, you want to know where he got it? no? oh, you don’t want to listen to his stories, kleiner Vogel? you’re hurting his feelings, you should kiss his scars to make it up to him

he just wanted to share some stories with you, isn’t it mean that you’re denying him? he’s holding your face, palm to your chin and his thumb slightly digging into your cheek, “Du willst mir nicht zuhören, kleiner Vogel? Fine, how about you give me some attention then, Klingt das gut?”. he grins when you press a kiss to the scar on his chest, humming at the feeling of your lips against his skin, “Schau dich an, isn’t this nice?”

in fact, Krueger likes it so much that he’ll seek you out just to feel you kiss his old wounds - settles you in his lap, crowds you against the kitchen counter. his eyes light up whenever you initiate, chest twisting with excitement as you peck his collarbone, where a nasty little wound had been years ago

softly smiling as you press kisses to the healed, rough bit of skin, you glance up at Krueger, “Tell me about this one?”

I love these silly little guys - I hope you enjoyed these fluffy, domestic interactions with these soldiers🎀✨

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seungkw1 · 15 hours

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love me right — ksy

♡ pairing: roommate!hoshi x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni], humor ♡ wc: 4.1k ♡ warnings: oral (f. & m. receiving), unprotected piv sex (do not do this), multiple orgasms, a lil spit play, head pushing, thigh riding, somnophilia, cum eating/swallowing, cumming in pants, like 2 seconds of angst, praise kink, hs is down bad for reader, gendered pet names (baby, good girl, pretty girl, etc), bit of fluff at the end ♡ a/n: this is part 2 to make me !! finally got this written hope yall like <3

Ever since you sort-of-accidentally had sex with your roommate for the first time, he’s been nothing but a fucking menace.

Not in a bad way - no, despite the fact that he's kind of an actual insane person he's always been and continues to be a very considerate and agreeable roommate. There's no problem with your living arrangements.

The problem is how fucking insatiable he has become.

You previously never thought there could be such a thing as too many orgasms, but Soonyoung really is testing your limits. You've never had so much sex in your life - and you're not mad about it by any means. But your roommate-turned-friend with benefits is absolutely, utterly, wholeheartedly obsessed with having his entire face buried in your pussy at all possible times. And you love every second of it.

Sure, sometimes your clit kinda feels like it's gonna fall off. Most of the time you've barely recovered from the last set of two, three, four orgasms (the current record is six, a record he's determined to beat) before he’s back between your legs again. But the constant cunnilingus leaves you more sensitive than ever before - and the more you squirm beneath his tongue and scream and cry as he takes you to paradise, the more it gets him off. One time you were wailing his name so much that he actually came in his pants, fully hands-free. The man simply worships you.

You've had various kink-related conversations over the past couple months of nonstop boinking, as these things come up. You wouldn't necessarily say Soonyoung is into anything too crazy (besides the occasional burst of tiger roleplay, anyway), but so far he's been enthusiastically down for everything you've expressed interest in. He’s the very definition of matching one’s freak.

“You know what would be hot?” Soonyoung asks you one day, approximately two minutes after you woke up and emerged from your room.

“Good morning to you too,” you tell him through a sleepy yawn.

“What if,” he continues anyway, “hypothetically, I were to wake you up one day by eating you out?”

“Soonyoung is it nine in the morning,” you reply as you give him a dull glare. You go to make yourself a cup of coffee, but he extends a full mug to you. You take the cup - it’s fresh, piping hot.

“Oh, thanks,” you say, surprised by the kind gesture.

“So?” he prods, eagerly awaiting your reply.

“I mean, yeah, I wouldn’t be mad about that,” you answer with a small shrug.

“NOICE,” he exclaims, pumping his fist in the air.

“BUT-” you quickly add. “That cannot be an everyday thing.”

“Right, of course not,” he agrees with a nod. “Soooo, when can I try it?”

“Well, I can’t tell you that,” you reply straightforwardly. “It’s supposed to be a surprise, that would like, defeat the whole point.”

A wide grin spreads across his face, but he shakes it off right away, playing it cool.

“Okay cool, well I’ll keep that in mind,” he says, grabbing your hand and shaking it vigorously. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

You roll your eyes at him.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” you gibe, but your face cracks into a smile. He pulls you in and kisses you.

“Love you too.”

You freeze.

You may have been intimate with him more times than you can count, but your relationship is strictly casual. You only kiss when you're fucking, and the words I love you have never once been uttered by either of you. You know he probably was saying it facetiously, but the way he said it was so nonchalant. So… realistic. You stare at him for a second, not knowing how to respond. His smile slowly drops.

“Oh, sorry,” he apologizes. His ears immediately turn red with embarrassment.

“No no it’s fine,” you babble, trying to backtrack. “I just wasn't expecting…”

“I was just kidding,” he responds. Then his eyes widen. “I mean not like that, it's not that-”

“It’s fine!!” you quickly interject before he can say anything else. “I know what you mean.”

“Sorry,” he murmurs again. He suddenly realizes he's still holding onto your hand - he swiftly lets go.

“Thanks for the coffee,” you tell him politely with a smile, trying to change the subject.

“Of course,” he replies, trying to smile back at you, but you can tell he's still sulky. He departs from the kitchen without saying another word. He emerges from his room about a minute later in athletic gear, his gym bag slung over his shoulder.

“Off to workout already? I thought you were going this afternoon” you inquire, but he's already breezing past you.

“Yeah, Mingyu just texted me and wanted to meet earlier,” he answers as he grabs his keys.

It’s a bad lie, and you both know it. But you don't press him further.

“Okay, have fun!” you say cheerfully. But an air of tension remains.

“Thanks,” he replies, turning back to glance at you for only a brief second.

“Hey,” you say softly. “Soonyo-”

He's out the door before you have a chance to finish even saying his name.

You stand there for a few moments, staring at the front door, wondering if you've just fucked everything up. You didn't mean to, of course. You were just so taken aback by the stupid L word. It's not something you ever expected to hear coming from Soonyoung’s lips, not about you anyways. But now it has you thinking. Was he simply joking around? Or does he actually have… feelings for you?

A small blip of a thought enters your mind: and do you have feelings for him?

You push it away before you can think about it any further.

The next few days are undoubtedly a bit awkward. Soonyoung is clearly avoiding you - not in a malicious way, but he just so happens to have business elsewhere whenever you're at home.

You're mildly annoyed, but more so you're feeling gloomy about the whole situation. You never meant to do anything to push him away - near-constant fucking aside, Soonyoung truly is a good friend. And now you find yourself missing him.

After an entire week of this nonsense, you decide to confront him. You pretend to be going to sleep, anticipating that he’ll spend some time alone in the common area. A few minutes later your hunch is confirmed when you hear the tv come on, its volume low. You quietly open your door and sneak into the living room. You approach the couch slowly from behind - when you arrive at it, you jump around and plop down next to Soonyoung.

“FUCK,” he yelps, nearly jumping out of his seat. “You scared me!”

“I'm horny,” you tell him bluntly, scooting up next to him. “Let me suck your dick.”

Soonyoung stares at you, looking into your eyes that are now mere inches from his. You can tell he desperately wants to say yes, but he resists. You give him a flirty look, trying to entice him.

“Pleaseeeee?”

“Well, I was gonna watch a movie…” his sentence trails off, unfinished. He tries to shift his focus away from you, but his eyes keep flickering back to yours.

“Seriously?” you ask, crossing your arms. “Since when do you turn down head?”

“Y/n…”

You wait for him to continue, but he doesn't.

“Yes?”

He looks you in the eyes again, then sighs.

“I dunno, I’m just not in the mood right now,” he finally answers. He looks away sullenly.

“Are you okay?”

He looks back at you. He clearly wants to tell you something, but he hesitates.

“About the other day…” he finally speaks. He pauses, in case you have something to say. You don’t; he continues.

“I didn't mean to make things weird. When I said that I loved you.”

“You didn't,” you assure him. You note that he didn’t say anything about it not being true, but you try to ignore that right now.

You take his hand in yours, patting it softly. He looks at you, surprised by the gesture.

“I was being weird, that's on me.”

His mood cautiously lightens. “You sure?” he verifies.

“100%,” you say with a nod. He smiles at you.

“Now will you please put your dick in my mouth?” you request again, looking into his eyes seductively.

A smile creeps onto his face.

“I mean if you're gonna be this fucking hot…”

You give him a mischievous smirk. You tug at his tshirt; he immediately takes it off. He groans as you grab his dick through his sweatpants, his cock starting to harden instantly in response. One thing about Soonyoung - you can do the bare minimum and he’ll have a boner within five seconds. You lick your lips, stroking him slowly through the soft gray fabric. He lets out a deep exhale, relieved by your touch - it had only been a week, but he missed you badly. He craved your touch, craved how insane you make him feel. He drops his head back, his legs spreading as he settles into the couch, shifting his pelvis up so you have full access to his groin. You rub your hand over the thick bulge, squeezing and pulling lightly, causing him to let out a pathetic-sounding moan. He is putty in your hands.

About a minute more of your over-the-pants handjob and Soonyoung is rock fucking hard. You slide off the couch, taking to your knees between his spread thighs. You pull at the elastic waistband, tugging it down over the pulsating bulge in his underwear. You place your mouth on him through the fabric, letting him feel your lips, your hot breath on him.

“Stop teasing me,” he begs after you plant several more kisses on his clothed dick. “Please.”

You gaze up at him, your eyes filled with lust. You reach into his underwear, retrieving his cock, prompting further pathetic moaning. He is leaking with precum - you take him in your fist, stroking up and down at a pace that he finds painfully slow. You place your lips atop the head, lightly sucking up his juices. He cries out as you then swirl your tongue over his tip.

“Aaaah,” he groans, his voice turning gravelly.

You grab his balls and take the rest of the head into your mouth. You hollow your cheeks as you begin sucking on it slowly - each motion of your lips long and drawn out. Saliva accumulates in the back of your mouth - and an overwhelming wetness accumulates in your underwear.

You draw your head back, gazing up at Soonyoung submissively. You collect your saliva, spitting it onto his cock - it trickles downwards. Wrapping your hand around his girth you spread it over his full length, coating his cock with your spit.

“Oh wow,” he mutters, nearly going cross eyed. You take his cock in your mouth once more, swallowing more and more of him until his entire length is down your throat.

“Goddamn baby,” he growls as you bottom out. You begin to bob your head, sucking him off. The sounds being made right now are grotesque - slurping and gagging from you, moaning and grunting from him. But it's only turning you on even more.

“Ohh that's a good girl,” he grumbles as he pets your hair. You increase your pace - saliva coats your lips, dripping down your chin, spreading across your face. The utterly sloppy head has Soonyoung writhing beneath you, babbling unintelligibly as his orgasm draws near.

“Feels so good baby.”

“Fuck you’re so hot.”

“Pretty girl sucking my cock so good right now.”

His other hand ventures to your head, holding you down as his hips jerk and shake. Your throat aches from him fucking it, your eyes well with tears - but your clit throbbing against the stickiness that has flooded your panties proves how much you fucking love this.

“Ohhhhhmygoddddd,” he groans through gritted teeth. “Fuuuuck, y/n… I’m gonna cum…”

He pushes your head down as he releases, giving you several hard thrusts as his cum spurts down your throat. You let him fill you up, eagerly swallowing each burst of his load. His hips slow as his climax wanes. His arms plop onto the couch cushions, his body sinking into the sofa as his body relaxes. He drags one hand to your face, grasping your jaw gently as he slowly pulls you off of his sensitive throbbing cock. He wants to look at you so bad, see that pretty little face with those pretty swollen lips covered in both your juices - but his energy is too drained to even lift his head.

“C’mere,” he pleads softly.

You pull yourself back up onto the couch, pressing your body closely against his. You lay your head on his shoulder as your fingertips delicately trace up and down his cock - it pulsates at your touch.

He turns his head to face you, his nose brushing up against yours. He lifts one hand, tenderly cradling your cheek.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice low and husky.

You feel a pang deep in your stomach. You've been scared to admit it this whole time, but at this point it's undeniable: you are falling in love with your roommate. And god do you want to kiss him.

“Yes,” you whisper, the word hot and breathy against his lips lingering before yours.

Soonyoung grabs your face with both hands, pulling you deep into his kiss. His lips hungrily lock onto yours, his body stilling except for his chest, rising and falling with slow, heaving breaths. He kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you, holding you tightly, refusing to allow any physical space between you two. You want to stay here for all of eternity.

Slowly, your mouths part - he gives your bottom lip a few more tugs before letting go. His forehead rests against yours, both of you exhaling deeply in tandem. His hands drop to your waist, touching you gently as the warmth of his breath greets your face. He looks into your eyes as he holds you.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?”

You nod. Quickly tucking his remaining erection back into his sweats, he takes your hands and pulls you up with him, kissing you with each step as you stumble together into your room. You plop onto your bed, pulling Soonyoung on top of you. He rolls over, holding you snugly against him, your legs tangling together as he starts making out with you again. Your aching cunt presses against his thigh as you wrap your legs around him; you begin to grind your hips slowly.

“Wait,” he pauses. He reaches for your shorts, sliding your pajamas and panties off of you. You kick them the rest of the way off, discarding them somewhere on the bed, your shirt quickly joining them. He yanks his own pants off; you straddle his thigh again, your soaked cunt greeting his skin.

“Oh my god,” he groans. “It’s so fucking wet.”

Your hips begin again, dragging your pussy up and down his thigh, your juices spreading everywhere. You whimper at the stimulation, riding Soonyoung’s thick muscular quads as he wraps his arms around your torso. You cling to him as he draws you in close, his mouth wandering to your neck to plant a string of small kisses on the delicate skin. Ceaseless moans escape you as a fire builds in your gut, the burning pleasure of your climax rapidly approaching.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” you cry out as you frantically get yourself off on Soonyoung’s thigh. You feel his cock growing hard again - it presses into your belly as it strains against the fabric of his underwear.

“Cum for me babe,” his low voice speaks softly into your ear.

Desperately grinding your pussy on his thigh, you finally release. You scream his name as you cum, legs trembling as your body shakes with vigor. Soonyoung holds you tight, kissing your cheek lovingly as you orgasm in his arms.

“That's my girl,” he murmurs as he kisses your lips. You begin to come down, but your head is still spinning from the overwhelming stimulation. You try to catch your breath, slowing your breathing as Soonyoung rubs your back - but his touch and the warmth of his body sends you into a deep state of relaxation. He whispers something else to you, but before you can even process what he's saying, you are fast asleep.

You’re awoken the next morning by loud, moaning cries.

Still half asleep, you begin to register a familiar bodily sensation. Only when you pry your eyes open and see Soonyoung situated between your legs, do you realize you’re the one moaning. His face is buried in your pussy, licking you slowly, tasting you, savoring every moment of having his tongue in your cunt.

He lifts his eyes, noticing that you’re now conscious.

“Soonyoung what the fu- ohhh,” you question, but are cut off by his lips attaching themselves to your clit.

“Good morning beautiful,” he mumbles into your cunt, refusing to take his mouth of you for a second.

“Oh my god,” you groan. “I forgot I told you you could do this.”

He pauses, looking up at you.

“Do you want me to stop-”

“NO,” you shout, louder than you meant. You lift your hips, putting your folds back in his mouth. He smiles into your cunt, eagerly resuming eating you out.

“Good,” he replies, barely audible as his tongue begins working into your hole again.

Your back arches as his nose presses into your clit, making it throb desperately. He flattens his tongue, licking you all the way up, then swirling around the sensitive bud.

“Ahhh,” you cry out involuntarily. “You’re gonna make me cum already.”

This only eggs him on further. He wraps his arms around your thighs, grasping you tightly as the tip of his tongue quickly flicks over your clit.

“How- fuck, how long have you been down there?”

He glances up at you again, sticking his tongue out exaggeratedly as he continues licking you.

“I dunno, like five minutes maybe.”

“Five?!” you proclaim as your head falls back onto the pillow. You run your fingers through his hair. “That’s it?”

Soonyoung smirks, planting several kisses on your pussy.

“You were already soaking wet when I got here,” he informs you. “Must’ve been dreaming about me.”

“Oh shut the fuck up,” you pretend to be annoyed with him, but the moans escaping from your lips undermine your facade.

“C’mon, you like it,” he teases.

“Yeah,” you admit. “I do.”

He grins widely. “Good girl.”

His praise and the way his tongue is now circling your clit send you over the edge. You whine as your orgasm approaches - loud, pathetic sounds filling the air as he sucks and slurps between your thighs.

“Don’t stop,” you beg.

The sensation builds and builds, making you squirm beneath him as every nerve in your body erupts with overwhelming delight.

“Oh fuck- I’m cumming,” you shriek as you reach your high. You cum on his tongue, long and hard - riding out your orgasm on his face accompanied by loud, unabashed cries of pleasure. As your body starts to relax, you release the tight grip you didn’t realize you had on his hair, stroking his head as he softly laps up your release.

“Come here,” you tell him softly, but he doesn’t move. He seems to be even more relaxed than you are right now.

“Just a second,” he responds through deep breaths, his body sinking into the bed.

“Oh my god, did you…”

“Cum in my pants again?” he finishes your question for you. “Yeah. I did.”

He lifts his head, his eyes glazed over in post-orgasm bliss.

“You’re so hot, I couldn’t help it,” he says with an amused grin.

Finally able to move, he rises - his underwear visibly filled with cum. He crawls back up to you, plopping onto his back right beside you. He peels the ruined underwear off, tossing them aside, then stares down at his own mess.

“Lemme just, um…”

He goes to get up, intending to go clean himself off, but you pull him back onto the bed.

“I got it.”

You scoot yourself down, positioning your face near his groin. Slowly you begin to lick his own cum off of him.

“Jesus fuck, y/n,” he groans, his voice deep and low. “You’re filthy.”

“Don’t act like you don’t think this is hot.”

“Oh I do,” he says proudly. “Very fucking hot.”

He strokes your hair as you clean him up. As you finish he pulls you back up, laying you on top of him as he wraps his arms around you once more. Both of you are sweaty, and the embrace is nearly too warm - but neither of you want to move.

You lay there in silence, your head tucked comfortably into his shoulder, peacefully listening to the songbirds chirping as warm morning sunlight filters into the room through the blinds. Soonyoung is breathing so steadily that you think he's fallen asleep underneath you, but eventually you hear your name softly muttered from his lips.

“Hey, y/n?”

“Hmm?” you reply sleepily without moving. Soonyoung caresses your back, dragging his fingertips gently up and down over the soft skin.

“What are we?”

You lift your head, propping yourself up by your elbow. You look down at Soonyoung - he gazes up at you, waiting for your response.

“I don’t know,” you answer after thinking for a moment. “What do you want us to be?”

He reaches for your face, stroking your cheek gently.

“I wasn’t lying the other day.” He stares into your eyes. Despite the fact that he literally just had his face buried in your pussy, it feels overwhelmingly intimate. Your stomach churns anxiously.

“I really do love you.”

You knew he was going to say it, but your heart skips a beat anyway. Hearing him say it out loud, hearing him confess his love to you - it’s a thought that previously scared you. But you no longer fear confronting this reality. Now that you’re here, it feels comfortable, it feels right.

“I’m sorry if that makes things weird between us, but it’s the truth,” he says timidly. “I just can’t deny it any longe-”

You cut him off with a kiss.

You kiss him for far too long - but it’s never long enough. When your lips part at last, you gaze at him lovingly, a big, cheesy grin growing upon your face.

“I love you too, dummy.”

He stares back at you, mouth agape. He finally processes your words, his face lighting up with excitement.

“Really??” he asks you in awe.

“Really really,” you nod.

He embraces you with explosive enthusiasm, making you yelp as he rolls over on top of you. You giggle as he gives you a series of rapidly-placed kisses all over your face.

“Stop itttt,” you cry through your laughter. “That tickles!”

“Sorry,” he says with a big goofy smile. “I’m just really excited.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you say as you grab his boner that has quickly returned.

He beams at you. “What can I say, you make my dick happy.”

“God, you’re such a dork,” you tell him as you roll your eyes. But you guide his tip to your entrance, shifting your hips to take him inside you.

“Ohh fuuuuck,” he mumbles, his eyes rolling back into his head. He starts slowly sliding his overstimulated cock into you, grunting when his whole length is inside. He rests, unmoving.

“You good?” you ask him.

“Yeah, just trying not to cum immediately,” he says, grinning.

“Soonyoung, you are crazy.”

“Crazy for you,” he says with a kiss.

You spend the rest of the day in bed together, making out, fucking, napping - anything, so long as you don’t have to leave his side. Soonyoung, being Soonyoung, tells you he loves you no fewer than 12 more times.

“So,” he asks as you intertwine your fingers with his, holding hands after he goes down on you for probably the fourth time today. “Does this mean I can call you my girlfriend now?”

You try to answer, but you’re trying to catch your breath after your millionth orgasm.

“Hmmmm?” he pesters.

“Gimme a… fucking second…” you mumble, pushing him away playfully. He gets right back in your face.

“I’m not hearing no…” he says, kissing your nose.

“Oh my god, yes, Soonyoung. The answer is yes.”

He grins from ear to ear, then wraps his entire body around yours, clinging to you like a koala.

“Yayyyy!" he replies as he nuzzles his face into you.

“You know,” he says after a few moments of silence. “I’m pretty hungry…”

“You better mean real food this time,” you tell him sternly. “I don’t think I could handle any more orgasms today.”

“Yes, real food,” he chuckles. “Shall I order delivery from that Thai place you like?”

“Yes please, I’m fucking starving.”

“You got it, baby.”

161 notes · View notes

itendtothinkalot · 3 days

Text

its me or the ps5 (not literally)

summary: gamer bf beomgyu is in the midst of a lol battle with soobin but all u rly want is his attention :(((

genre: all fluff, no plot

characters: gamer bf!beomgyu x f!reader

words: not too many (i havent counted)

warnings: kinda suggestive but other than its pretty fluffy hehe

It had been hours since he last spoke to you. No, he wasn’t angry. No, he wasn’t upset with you. He was just really into his game.

You lay in bed, the soft glow of the screen casting shadows on his back as he sat at the computer, shouting curses between bursts of laughter. His words, loud and rapid, formed a jumble you could only half understand—it felt like trying to learn a new language, each phrase coming out as broken sentences.

“Something something, I’ll go mid, something something.” You managed to grasp this much.

You craved his attention. Sure, your last date was just three hours ago, but it wasn’t enough. He’d spoil you so much during the date that you’d gotten greedy. You needed him now—his attention, his hands, his words. But there he was, locked in with his favorite thing in the world: his pc.

“He missed me! Dude, he missed me!” Beomgyu yelled into the mic, laughing loudly. His fingers flew across the keyboard, the rapid clicking almost rhythmic. Out of curiosity, you peeked around the corner from your spot on the bed and watched him play. You didn’t really know how to play League, though you’d seen him at it plenty of times and had dabbled a bit when he’d offered to teach you.

Your body inched closer and closer, curiosity pulling you toward the screen. You could see his character zooming across the map, darting from one point to another. From what little you understood, he was doing really well—so well, in fact, that it made you feel even needier than you already did.

As you scooted inch by inch across the bed, you unknowingly reached the very edge. Before you realized it, your body slipped off, sending you tumbling to the floor with a soft thud. You let out a yelp, "AUGH!" The sound echoed through the room, catching your boyfriend’s attention. Beomgyu turned, eyes widening as he saw you sprawled on the floor.

"Baby, what are you doing on the floor?" His voice was laced with concern, though you could tell by the twitch of his lips that he was seconds away from bursting into laughter.

“Nothing.” You said, still on the floor.

He chuckled, standing up and making his way over to you. With a playful grin, he lifted you off the floor and gently placed you back on the bed. Leaning down, he gave you a quick kiss on the lips. “You’re an idiot,” he said, his voice overflowing with affection.

“Yours,” you agreed with a giggle.

“CHOI BEOMGYU!” A muffled voice shouted through his headphones.

“Shit. Coming!” he yelled back, giving you one last quick kiss before rushing back to his chair. As he put his headset on, he shot back, “Shut up. You’re one to talk, you fucking virgin.”

You chuckled, knowing they were probably teasing him about you.

You huffed, puffing out your cheeks in frustration. Falling wasn’t part of the plan, but at least you had his attention for a moment. Was that full minute enough to satiate your needs? No. You wanted him in bed, cuddling you and recounting his day—though you had spent the entire day together.

Your phone buzzed.

Soobin: get ur bf off the pc

You: ???

Soobin: hes annoying wtf

You: youre literally stealing him away from me u asshat

Soobin: hes literally rite beside u

You: men r so dense

Soobin: hes SAYING HES WINNING and telling all his friends that he won over me when he didnt

You: why are u so mad its just a game

Soobin: U SUCK

“Baby, is Soobin’s character dead?” you asked.

Beomgyu glanced over, lifting the left side of his headphones. The faint glow of the computer screen reflected in his eyes. “Did you say something, sweetheart?”

“Is Soobin’s character dead?” you repeated, a teasing smile on your lips.

He nodded, a focused look on his face. “Yeah, why?”

You laughed, turning back to your phone. “Nothing.”

“Is he texting you?” Beomgyu asked, a hint of jealousy creeping into his voice, though you probably didn’t notice.

You nodded, rolling your eyes playfully. “He’s just being annoying.”

“What’d he say?”

You shrugged. “Nothing much. He’s just talking about the game.”

“To you?” Beomgyu’s tone was sharper, and you looked up from your phone to see him fully turned toward you now. A far cry from just two minutes ago when he had been giving you only side glances. His complete attention was on you, a mix of curiosity and something else flickering in his eyes.

This piqued your interest. Was he jealous?

“Yes, Gyu. To me.” You laughed, placing your phone on the bed.

“Gyu?” His brows furrowed slightly, and you could see the shift in his expression. You knew that hit a nerve. He was expecting terms of endearment—baby, my love, sweetheart, darling, angel, daddy—but hearing just his name, the nickname you used when you were still friends, made him twitch.

“Gyu?” he repeated, a slight edge to his voice.

“Is that not your name?” you teased, a playful smile on your lips.

“No. Not to you.” He frowned, his focus shifting entirely away from the game. You watched as he pressed a button on his PC, the lights on his headphones flickering off. He had muted his friends, the sounds of the game fading into silence.

He took off the headphones and set them on the desk, then slowly made his way to the bed, his expression darkened as he approached you.

“Hm, really now?” You grinned, knowing you were reeling him in.

“To you, it’s baby,” he pouted, crossing his arms dramatically. “Why are you calling me by my government name?”

“Gyu is not your government name.” You laughed.

“Yes, it is. Y’know who calls me Gyu? My mother. Are you my mom?”

“No I’m not, Gyu.”

“You did it again!” He gasped, eyes wide with mock horror. “Evil has gotten to you. You’ve been hanging out with Soobin too much.”

“Don’t be an idiot.”

“Baby~” he whined, leaning closer. “Do you still love me?”

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Aren’t you the one ignoring me for a game?”

“Ignoring you? Baby…” He feigned innocence, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “I stopped my winning streak for you. Now Soobin’s gonna go berserk, posting on every social media that he won. I did this for you.” His expression was a mix of exasperation and affection.

“No. You stopped because you got jealous of your friend.”

“Soobin’s gorgeous. You can’t blame me for being jealous.”

You chuckled, “Soobin’s gorgeous? That’s your defense.”

He nodded aggressively, “Yes! He is. Didn’t you have a crush on him when we were all just becoming friends?”

Now you were confused, “Huh?”

“You had this major crush on him, didn’t you?”

“No. No, I didn’t!”

“Yes, you did!”

“You’re making this up! Are you sure you’re not the one with a crush on him?” You accused.

“Look, he’s gorgeous and all, but… I’m into you. Specifically. If anyone asked me what my preference was, I’d say you. I’d always say you.” Beomgyu sighed, kneeling in front of you, resting his chin between your legs as he gazed up at you with earnest eyes.

You nodded, a satisfied grin spreading across your face. “Looks like I trained you well.” You ran your fingers gently through his hair, feeling the soft strands slip between your fingers.

“Mmf, play with my hair,” he murmured, sighing in contentment.

You always told everyone who asked that your boyfriend resembled a puppy—his big, expressive eyes and playful nature made it impossible not to think so. He loved being pampered, adored the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp, and thrived any sort of affection you showered him with.

“You sure? You seem like you’re losing,” you pointed out, glancing at the game still unfolding on the screen.

“I don’t care,” he replied, waving a dismissive hand.

“Really now?” You tilted your head, curiosity evident in your expression.

“Mhm.” He nodded confidently. “I’ll let Soobin win.”

“That’s the first.” you said, raising an eyebrow.

He nuzzled his cheeks against your bare thighs, a playful pout forming on his lips. “Please,” he begged, looking up at you through his eyelashes.

“Sure, Gyu.” You teased again, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Again? Really?” He lifted his head off your legs, feigning exasperation. “Do you want me to start crying?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, trying to keep a straight face.

“Repeat after me. Ba…” He shifted above you, placing his arms on both sides of your legs, propping himself up so you were face-to-face with him. His eyes locked onto yours. His arms held your back, pushing you closer towards him.

You had been dating for years, yet it was almost excruciating how he could still make you feel giddy, even after countless sleepovers. The way he looked at you, the way he kisses you, the playful banter that never seemed to bore you.

“Ba…” You followed, grinning.

“By…” He leaned closer, whispering into your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

“By.”

“Good girl.” He pecked your cheeks lightly, a playful smile spreading across his face. “Now say it all together.” His face was so desperately close to yours, his eyes sparkling with anticipation, begging to hear the words.

“Baby,” you finished, your voice barely above a whisper.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling as he grabbed your chin, pulling you in for a deeper kiss. “Don’t forget that.”

“How could I?” you murmured, breathless under the warmth of his lips, your heart racing.

Lost in the heat of the moment, the two of you spent the next few minutes locked in a deep, passionate kiss. Your bodies pressed together, his hands exploring every inch of you, yet always remaining gentle. The intensity of the connection between you both grew with each second as each kiss grew desperate and needier, you couldn’t help but wish you could see him everyday.

You tapped Beomgyu’s arms as you both slowed down the kiss, exchanging gentle pecks between your playful conversation.

“Baby.” Peck.

“What do—” Peck.

“You think—” Peck.

“About—”

“Mmf, I can’t think right now.” Beomgyu continued, playfully pushing you down onto the bed as he showered you with kisses.

“Baby, this is important.”

“What could be more important than this?” he replied, giving you one final peck before falling beside you, entwining his fingers with yours.

“Well, what do you think about living together?” you asked.

“Hm?” His eyes lit up with curiosity.

“We're already always at each other’s places,” you explained, a hopeful smile playing on your lips.

“You just get smarter each day, don’t you?” he teased, propping his elbows on either side of you as he gazed down, admiration shining in his eyes. “Because I think that’s the smartest thing anyone has ever said. Even Einstein couldn’t figure this out.”

“Baby, it’s a yes or no,” you laughed, enjoying the playful banter.

“As if I’d say no to staying with the world’s most perfect person.” He scoffed in mock disbelief, a grin spreading across his face. “And imagine this: we could stay in bed all day after doing all sorts of things all night.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Gyu…” you looked at him sternly, trying to suppress a smile.

“Again with my government name!” He exclaimed dramatically.

You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your affection. “I love you.”

“And I love—” He pressed his lips onto yours, silencing you with a kiss. “You.”

#txt fic #txt oneshot #txt x reader #txt fanfic #txt fluff #txt imagines #txt scenarios #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu x y/n #choi beomgyu x you #beomgyu x you #beomgyu txt au #beomgyu au

134 notes · View notes

steddieas-shegoes · 3 days

Text

try again later

for @steddiesmuttyseptember prompts slap, loud, breeding kink, vibrator

rated e | 18+, minors dni | 2814 words | check ao3 for all tags

🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻🤚🏻

Steve’s heart races as he climbs the stairs to his room. He promised Eddie he would wait for him to get back from Indy tomorrow to do this, but he’s been thinking about it all day. Nonstop.

And Robin made him go home to “deal with his problem” even though he was scheduled to close.

His problem being that he’s been hard for the last three hours.

It’s Eddie’s fault, really. He’s the one that bought the vibrator, left it on Steve’s bed, and then fucked off to do band things in Indy for four days.

The first two days, Steve ignored it. It was easy to do because he was still unsure how he felt about using it at all. Eddie assured him he’d love it, and Eddie was usually right about the things he likes, but a part of Steve thought that maybe this was too far.

Until this morning, when he unboxed it out of curiosity, and he found that it had five settings. And that it had a heat feature. And that it would work as a plug, too.

He shoved it back in the box and stared at his ceiling for two hours before he got up and got ready for work.

He was useless at work all day, both Keith and Robin were completely done with him.

Steve sits on his bed and thinks about this.

He could just try it out on the lowest setting and see how it works. He’ll wash it really good and then box it back up so Eddie doesn’t know. He knows Eddie won’t waste any time when he’s back; He’s just as impatient as Steve is.

But he doesn’t want to lie to Eddie, and even more than that, he doesn’t want to break Eddie’s rule.

He kinda wants to, though. A little bit.

He’s usually so good. Always does what Eddie wants, tries to be a good boy for him.

And in return, Eddie tells him he’s good, and gives him what he wants, and makes him feel like he’s flying.

He thinks breaking this one rule might be worth it.

So he unboxes the vibrator again and he makes sure it has the batteries it was supposed to come with in it and he reads the manual slowly so he understands the buttons. If he’s doing this to himself, he needs to be able to feel which button is which.

“Just the lowest setting,” he says to himself as he strips all of his clothes off. “Just to see.”

It’s thicker than he expected, so he opens himself up on two fingers before he even tries to slip it inside.

When he does, he knows he’s in trouble.

“Fuck,” Steve whines, biting his lip as he tries to find the perfect spot for it to fit snugly against his prostate.

It’s not even on yet and he thinks he’s going to come.

Once it’s settled inside, he lets his arms fall against the bed, his breaths heavy as he tries to calm down. He shouldn’t be doing this. He should’ve waited for Eddie.

He reaches down to press the button on the tip of the plug, the one that turns it on.

The moment he does, he gasps and lets out a loud moan.

The vibrations are borderline too much, even in the first few seconds. It’s a dull thrum, but it fills him, and feels like it’s making his heart beat faster and his hands shake.

He’s leaking, probably has been for a while, but it’s so much more than he usually does. Eddie likes to lick it up and spit it into his mouth, make him clean up his own mess.

Just the thought of Eddie doing that now, while turning up the setting on the plug, has Steve gripping the base of his cock to avoid finishing so soon. He circles his hole with one fingertip, clenching around the plug as he bumps up the setting by one.

His back arches without his permission, and tears spring to his eyes as his release shoots across his stomach. It’s heaven and hell, feeling so much while not having Eddie here to kiss him, and play with his hair, and wipe him down.

He goes from feeling better than ever to feeling short bursts of pain with pleasure, the overstimulation of the vibrations still happening almost too much. He manages to turn the vibrator off with shaking hands, but he doesn’t remove it.

“Fuck me,” he laughs as he tries to settle down enough to remove it.

He closes his eyes and sighs out.

The last thought he has before falling asleep is that he didn’t even get to actually touch his dick.

****

He wakes to a hand on his dick.

He’d panic more if he wasn’t familiar with the hand on his dick.

“Fuck, Eddie,” he moans, thankful that they have their own home, that no one ever has to hear the way he screams under Eddie’s touch. “What’re you doing home?”

“Apparently disciplining you,” he replies, voice cool, smug smile in place.

The room is dark, but Steve can see enough of him to know he’s figured out that Steve didn’t listen to his instructions. The hand on his dick is rough, no spit to glide the way. Steve winces at the drag as he speeds up.

“Come on, baby,” Eddie nips his neck. “You wanted to come so bad you couldn’t wait for me. Now I’m here. Let’s see it.”

Steve whimpers. It hurts, but it’s so good. The weight of the plug filling him up just adds to it as is whole body is jostled with Eddie’s firm movements.

“Can’t.” Steve takes a breath. “Hurts.”

“Awww, you should’ve thought about that before trying my new toy without me.”

And it’s the way he says it, my toy in that tone that makes Steve think he isn’t just talking about the vibrator. Like maybe Steve is his toy.

Steve’s gonna come. He’s certain of it.

Any moment now.

He feels his thighs tense.

Eddie’s hand is gone.

“No!” Steve cries. “Please. I’m so close. Please.”

“I don’t care if you’re close, sweetheart,” his words sting as he pulls away and stares down at where the plug is hidden inside Steve. “What happened to my good boy, huh? I leave you alone for a few days and you decide to misbehave?”

Steve can’t even find words to explain himself. Eddie’s hand is back on him, but this time his fingers are pinching his nipples, twisting just enough for it to bite.

They’re gone as fast as they came and Steve’s gasping for breath, arching up into the touch while wishing Eddie would lick them to ease the burn. He’s a mess of feeling right now and it’s his own fault.

Eddie’s palm makes contact with Steve’s cheek.

It’s hot, fire against his skin. The pain of the slap barely registers as he feels his own release against his stomach.

“Would you look at that?” Eddie hums. “Who knew being so rough with you would make such a mess.”

Steve feels a tear fall from the corner of his eye, but he’s too busy coming down from his high to wipe it away.

Eddie does it for him.

It’s gentle, soft, the opposite of the slap that caused it.

“I’m gonna turn this on now,” Eddie taps the base of the plug, sending shockwaves through Steve’s nerves. “And you’re gonna get to have every setting. Or did you already do every setting?”

“No, sir,” Steve whispers, voice broken. “Just two.”

Eddie nods. “Then I think I’ll have to get two more out of you before we can stop.”

Steve whines. He’s already sore. His cock is trying to get hard again, and he can feel every shift of the plug inside him. He doesn’t even think he could have two more orgasms if Eddie turned the vibrator on the highest setting.

He thinks he might pass out.

“Color?” Eddie asks.

It doesn’t quite break the moment, but it does make Steve focus on his face.

He looks concerned, but he also looks like he’s in awe. He always kind of looks at Steve like that, like he’s amazing him just by existing, just by the noises he makes and the curve of his body.

“Green.”

Eddie kisses the corner of his mouth before he slaps his other cheek.

Steve groans and turns his face away reflexively, but Eddie grabs his jaw and makes him turn to look up at him.

“I wanna see those cheeks get red, baby. Makes your eyes so bright when you cry,” Eddie slaps him again, but Steve’s starting to feel numb. “Just like that. You know why I wanted you to wait for me?”

Steve shook his head.

“Because I know how to make everything good for you. You didn’t even tease yourself a little, did you?” Eddie clicks his tongue against his teeth. “How am I supposed to knock you up if you try to do everything yourself?”

Steve’s cock pulses between them.

“Please. Please, sir.”

“Please, please sir,” Eddie mocks him, leaning down to grip his jaw tight. “Please what?”

“Please fuck me,” Steve tries to say with his mouth forced open.

“Oh, I’m gonna. But what else?” Eddie moves his hand down to Steve’s throat, resting there as a threat, the kind that makes Steve’s eyes roll back in his head. “What did you beg me to do to you on the phone the other night?”

“Wanna be full of you,” Steve continues, trying to focus on what Eddie’s asking.

“Yeah, gonna fill you up so good. Gotta make sure it takes, right?”

Steve nods. “Wanna have your baby.”

Eddie grins down at him as he turns the vibrator on.

He bumps it up to two immediately and Steve thinks this is a different two than the one he had on before he fell asleep. It’s sharp and too much immediately, making him squirm under Eddie’s weight. But Eddie doesn’t allow it, which just adds to the jolts of electricity going through his body.

“I’ll give you one, sweetheart. But first, you gotta be my good boy.”

Steve can do that. He can do whatever Eddie needs him to.

Eddie bumps the setting up again and it’s almost unbearable. How does anyone handle the highest setting?

Oh. Oh. It’s warm.

It feels like…

“Gonna come,” Steve warns. “Feels too good.”

“Then come, baby.”

Steve nearly screams through his orgasm and Eddie doesn’t try to quiet him. He laughs as Steve shivers from aftershocks.

He turns it up again and Steve may black out for a second. He squeezes his eyes shut and grits his teeth together and his dick stays hard.

“Too much, too much.”

“It wouldn’t be if you hadn’t started without me.”

It’s probably true, but Steve’s already feeling pretty far gone.

“One more, baby boy. Think you can give me another one?”

Steve nods because he can, he knows he can. He wasn’t sure before, but Eddie’s tone makes him believe he’s capable of anything.

If Eddie tells him to come, he will. If Eddie tells him to suck him while he fucks his mouth, he’ll happily do it.

“Look at you, so sweet. You’re so beautiful when you let me take care of you. Can’t believe you thought you could do this all for yourself,” Eddie wraps his hand around Steve’s cock, barely moving it. Steve curls up and towards Eddie with the touch, whimpering at the firey pleasure piercing his stomach. “You’re mine, Stevie. My hands are the only ones who can make you feel this good, my mouth, my cock, my toy.”

Steve’s chest is heaving as Eddie turns the vibrator up to the highest setting.

Words aren’t happening anymore.

Steve thinks he comes, but he can’t be sure.

He’s tingly and weightless, and he thinks if Eddie gets off of him, he’ll fly away.

The plug is gone and Steve whines at the loss. He tries to shove his own fingers inside himself, wants to keep feeling full, but Eddie slaps his wrist.

“That’s mine. Hands up.”

Steve listens because he decided being good is probably better for getting what he wants. Plus, Eddie’s fingers are inside him, four of them he thinks. It burns a little, but it’s not something Steve can complain about past the noises he’s making.

He wouldn’t anyways, not when he knows what he’s getting next.

Eddie slaps his cock.

Maybe he didn’t know what he was getting. He yelps, his eyes shoot open, and he stares at Eddie in shock.

He’s still hard, but it hurts.

“Color?” Eddie asks again, because this is new, and he always asks when he does something new. Even if they’ve talked about it, even if Steve assured him he would say red if he didn’t like it.

The pain was already gone, replaced with an overwhelming need to come. Eddie’s fingers were pressing against his prostate, making him forget about the slap entirely.

“Green, sir, again.”

“Good boy,” Eddie grins as he slaps his cock again, harder. “You like being slapped around? Like when I make you red all over? Look at your dick, baby.”

Steve does. It’s an angry red, almost purple, and he still has cum leaking from the tip. It twitches against his stomach when Eddie grabs it and rubs his thumb across the soaked slit.

Steve is panting, sure that there’s no way he could handle more.

“Gonna give you what you want now.”

Eddie’s cock is pretty average in length, but it’s thick, and he got it pierced a while back. It drives Steve absolutely crazy.

But four fingers stretched him out enough that Eddie’s cock entering him is just a dull ache.

“There you go, baby. That feel good? You feel full now?” Eddie asks as he lets more of his weight fall on top of Steve. Steve is by far the heavier of the two, but he loves when Eddie surrounds him like this.

But he doesn’t feel full yet. He shakes his head.

“No? What else do you need?” Eddie knows exactly what he needs, and he knows Steve is so far gone that talking is damn near impossible at this point. “You need to suck something? My fingers maybe?”

Steve shakes his head. Maybe next time.

“Need your cum.”

Eddie groans as he starts fucking into Steve faster, making the bedframe hit the wall behind them. They really need to look into getting something to dull the noise. They’ll never be able to do anything when they have guests over at this rate.

“That’s all you need, sweet boy? Just need me to fill you up, put the plug in, make sure nothing leaks out so you can give me a baby?” Eddie is breathless now, stomach and arms tense as he holds himself at the perfect angle to hit the oversensitive bundle of nerves inside Steve.

“Mhm, gonna-” Steve moans. “Gonna give you a baby. All the babies. Ten babies.”

Steve feels Eddie’s warm breath against his neck.

“Ten’s a lot, sweetheart,” he laughs against his neck before placing a gentle kiss over his moles. “You gonna come for me again?”

Steve nods, but he isn’t sure he can. He can barely even feel his cock anymore, so he’s not sure he’s got anything left in the tank.

Eddie moans against his jaw, hips stuttering to a much slower rhythm as he comes. Steve feels the warmth inside him, can already feel it dripping out. He whines at the loss.

“I know, baby,” Eddie wipes at a stray tear as he pulls back, but not out. “Come for me. Let me feel you.”

Steve thinks he comes. He’s pretty sure he passes out, too.

When his eyes open again, Eddie’s holding him, playing with his hair and humming softly. He’s still sweaty, but he doesn’t have any cum dried on him. The plug is snug inside him, holding as much of Eddie inside as possible.

“With me, Stevie?” Eddie whispers. It’s the quietest moment they’ve shared since he woke up to Eddie in bed with him.

“Kinda.”

Eddie’s hand brushes up and down his back, fingers poking gently into his spine.

“Can’t believe you didn’t wait for me.”

“Was nervous,” Steve yawns.

“Is it okay?” Eddie asks.

Steve nods against his chest. “Really okay.”

“You’re gonna be sore later.”

“‘S okay. Feel full.”

“We gonna talk about the ten babies thing?” Eddie asks, not judging, never judging, just curious.

“Gonna give you ten babies. ‘S what I said,” Steve is too tired to stay awake.

“Might be difficult with our current anatomy, but we can give it an honest try,” Eddie is laughing softly as he talks.

“Try again later,” Steve barely mumbles out before he drifts back to sleep.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie smutty september #steddie events

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bluejayscrying · 1 day

Text

Some Batfam as Private school kids (from someone who attends a very religious private school)!!

(Perhaps a No Capes AU??)

Bruce Wayne: He's a Part of the PTA, drives an incredibly expensive car at the kiss-and-drop, and almost all of the parents seem to know him some way or other. Is he helpful? God no, but he helps fund school events and wears the most ridiculously tight cashmere sweaters while handing out cookies at bake sales.

Dick: You know that senior everyone knows and loves? thats him. He is a part of the Gymnastics Club, and also in the Student Council. he dabbles in some other clubs too (Track and Field etc.) and the trophy case in the hall is basically all him. Yes, he'll help you to class, you're like 12 ,but he can't confirm that he won't get distracted and accidentally sign you up to seven co-curriculars while hes at it. the teachers hate him, (or do they?)

Jason: Plays soccer (basketball? Who knows) but he's kinda a loner. Actually, he tries to be a loner but it kinda ruins his sullen and emo vibe when Dick and his other siblings won't leave him alone! He disappeared a few years ago and straight up didn't come to school for ages- came back looking like a totally new person. Rumour has it he got sent to military school but there are also some more sinister whispers going around...No, he's not going to tutor you, but it's not like it's his fault if you just happen to sit near him while he reads over your English work out loud.

Tim Drake: Everyone thinks he's a dealer. I mean its never been confirmed but come on there is no way he looks that tired and red-eyes from just his awful sleep schedule, right? He's good at school, and if your quick enough you can probably catch him outside of school on his skateboard if you need a hand with solving something. For two dollars, a pack of strawberry gum and a $10 Starbucks Gift card he can find the most insane shit on that guy who chucked your homework in your toilet last week.

Cassandra: She's cool as shit. She probably won't go fighting people for you, but she might slip in and give you an opportunity a to leave the situation, and if she glares them into submission that's no one's business but hers. Captain of the Martial Arts Club, you might be able to find her in the gym before school, talking to Stephanie- the cheer captain about some family gossip.

#text post #batman #batfam #jason todd #random thoughts #tim drake #dick greyson #cassandra cain #bruce wayne #part two maybe potentially

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cashmoneyyysstuff · 18 hours

Text

deep breath in, deep breath out.

your eyelashes flutter, your eyes move around under your eyelids.

your chest expands, then drops again.

and repeat.

tomura wonders when the last time he’s been this close to somehow before was.

he also wonders how long you’ll let him do this.

tomura shigaraki has, what you call, the nasty habit of being a night owl. it usually wouldn’t be that much of an issue if all he did wasn’t just playing some pc game until ungodly hours of the morning. tomura was awake when you went to sleep and was awake when you woke up too.

he’s unfortunately so very stubborn, so he always insists that he’s not tired at all and that he could at the very least just get a nap in later.

but he was also very picky and sensitive, he didn’t like napping on the couch because he couldn’t find the right way to position his neck, or the light of the outside world would prevent sleep from consuming him, and he moves around a lot so he can never get comfortable and then he gets moody and bitchy and annoying and everyone is just trying to piss him off today. you’ve seen him almost lose his mind because on one of those days he’d gotten his shirt stuck on the door handle. and you don’t want to see that again.

the reason he’d be up so late was because of his insane competitiveness, it only took one nasty comment picked up through his headphones to send him spiraling, just having to prove to the world and the people behind his computer screen he was better than them.

you’d been able to find a sort of compromise lately. because sometimes he woke you up raging and you did not want the both of you to end up moody and bitchy in the morning. so you somehow convinced him to get into less violent games, sandboxes and such. right now it seemed he was really into puzzle games.

and it started working out well for you. it was a good plan, tomura could give you that. the soundtracks in the games he played usually managed to calm him some, and actually start to make his eyes droop and the urge to sleep started to seep in.

but sleep never came.

he managed to finish some games at an okay-ish hour. some he’d just leave for tomorrow if he got bored, and he go try to lay down with you and close his eyes. but he just couldn’t sleep.

thought it shouldn’t be all that surprising, now that he thinks back on it. he’d probably completely fucked up what was even remotely left of a sleep schedule. completely fucked it over in the ass and chucked it off a cliff.

now he’s irritated, tired and so bored.

until he realized something.

you drool in your sleep.

it’s something he wouldn’t have realized if he were at his pc, nor if he’d fallen asleep earlier. he thinks about that for a minute, then focuses back on you. he reaches forward and wipes at the small trail with a single finger, careful not to wake you.

you’d probably call him gross for it, but he doesn’t care. you should thank him for saving you the embarrassment of waking up with a pool of drool on your pillow.

and so, tomura developed another nasty little habit.

whenever he was unable to sleep, which was 98% of the time, he’d just watch you do it. as cheesy as it sounded he always gets this weird feeling whenever he does, like he’d slept too. it felt like he was sleeping with you in a weird, weird way.

and he could admit you were interesting to watch. you weren’t doing anything interesting , but he thinks a sick, twisted part of him enjoyed seeing you so vulnerable, so unaware of the eyes on you, so clueless once you wake up and you have no idea that you make noises and chew while you sleep.

another part of him wonders what is is you dream about. it watches and analyze how your breaths pick up and relax again, how you shuffle or snuggle more into your blanket and pillows.

it wonders if you ever dream about him, but that he’ll never admit, because that was pathetic.

another part of him thinks you just look cute while you sleep. the way he can catch your eyebrow twitch occasionally if he pays extra close attention, and one time he even heard what sounded like a mumble of his name on your lips. and it felt rewarding. would you do it again if he kept doing this ?

he wonders what you’ll do if you woke up to see him doing this. would you be scared ? embarrassed ? angry ? disgusted ? would you hate him ? you’d have to see how much of a creep he was then, wouldn’t you ?

or maybe you’d laugh, maybe you’d jokingly call him a freak for watching you sleep, maybe you’d somehow make him feel embarrassed about it in that weird way you do.

he likes not to think about that much though. not because it was completely unrealistic, but because it wasn’t completely off the table either, and that just made him feel sick. guilty.

for now, he’ll just keep watching you. if you complain about him being moody then you’ll just have to deal with this. you’ll snuggle into him when you find him in bed with you, conveniently already awake because he was such an early riser. you’d kiss his cheek first thing in the morning and smile lazily at him “how’d you sleep ?” you’ll ask.

“good.” he’ll reply.

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petersnya · 3 days

Note

u should do the nsfw alphabet thing with Anakin 👀 👀 👀

Anakin Skywalker NSFW alphabet pt. 1

A = Aftercare (What they're like after sex)

With aftercare Ani is very gentle and tender with you. Like as soon as the both of you come down his gently kissing all over your face as he pulls out of you slowly; caressing your face and telling you how much he loves you and how good you are to him and how you make him feel. He cleans you up and after he makes sure you’re okay (cause that mane can get pretty fuckin carried away with you that’s just how much he can’t control himself when he’s with you). He loves to hold you and lay his head on your bare chest while his arms hold you. Sometimes he’ll fall asleep or he’ll talk to you. This is one of his most valuable times.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

I feel like his loves your tits and so such in them or kiss them gently. When you two are making out “innocently” he’s sneak his hand up your body and grip and grope at them softly but it’s soon gets rougher.

Even though he loves to play with your tits, he loves just as equally to grope your ass and kneed it while he kisses you and your body. He also loves your legs. When he puts one or both over his shoulders he’ll kiss them tenderly; but even when you two aren’t having sex, he’ll just rub your thighs or your legs and caress them with his finger tips.

I slick think he likes to pinch your cheeks too.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically... I'm a disgusting person)

Ok so I’ve already talked about the taste of it so I’m gonna talk about the place of it. He loves to cum on your ass the most, but when he’s being very… lewd is your tongue. He’ll jerk off while his tip is resting on your tongue as he pumps out load after load.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Anis dirty little secret is that he has a love hate relationship with sneaking around because of the Jedi council and the order, but he more so loves it. Being sneaky and touching you with the force while you are in meetings for senator/princess/Jedi business. He can be across the room from you, staring as he moves his two fingers in a “come here” motion with a dirty smirk on his face; through the force he’s pumping his fingers in and out of you slowly. Anakin enjoys pulling you behind walls and doors and pillars in the temple to kiss you softly/roughly before pulling back and walking away. He love the thought that you have to act as if nothing happened and that you have to come up with lies because you are not supposed to be together.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)

He’s a tad bit experienced but not really because of the restrictions of the Jedi, but when he’s with you and you two are having sex or doing other things he seems much more experienced to you. I think the only reason why he seems so much more experienced than he really is is because he gets so carried away with you. He just starts doing whatever he feels.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

His fav position is missionary cause I feel like he’s a very simple man. He loves to rock his hips into you slowly and getting rougher with each thrust while he is either: a. Propping himself up on his forearm on one and hand either the other holding neck as his lips press to your ear so you can hear every grunt and moan or even whimper — b. Hugging your body as close as possible with his with one hand on your ass pushing it to hit the deepest part of you.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Anakin is naturally a very serious person and very emotional. He can be goofy in the right moments with you but during intimacy, he takes it a little bit more seriously. There are times where he might laugh at how you look with cum on your cheeks and your wide eyes looking at him, but he’s laughing out of complete adoration of how cute you look to him like that. He’ll also grin while biting his lip at you as he’s plunging deeply into you at the look on your face.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

I think the curtains match to drapes but just a tad bit darker than his natural hair colors which is like a really dirty blonde/brunette. He doesn’t normal shave down there (but he does trim usually) but he does often consider the thought that you try and keep yourself all nice and pretty for him so he feels he should do the same, right? Even though you’ve told him multiple times it doesn’t bother you.

I= Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

Anakin in the moment is always watching your face, wanting to see every single face you make to every thing he does to you. He’ll often catch himself smiling as you shut your eyes tightly as your mouth slack open as silent moans come out. Just as much as he watches your face he watches his cock slip in and out of you in awe.

J= Jack Off (Masturbation head canon)

Okok, so naturally he jacks off alone to the thought of you or the pictures/videos of you on his halo pad that he’s taken during sex or things like that (sometimes it can be a picture of you smiling or off guard and he’ll cum all over your face on the halo pad). But something that he seems to be damn near obsessed with doing is just jerking while looking at your naked ass while you lay on your stomach or your tits when your laying on your back and cumming all over you. He’ll grunt and moan out in a low but loud tone while his brows furrow. Idk I guess he loves to jack off to the real thing instead of a picture.

K= Kink (One or more of their kinks)

I know for sure he has these two kinks: 1. Dirty talk. Ooohh that man loves him some dirty talk. Every time you make a noise, he’ll say “yeah?” or “shhhh” (even though you better not stop making those pretty noises for him) in a low voice. Really his kink is him doing the dirty talking cause he knows how much you love it. This also kinda plays in with humiliation which only happens when he’s really losing control. 2. Chocking (when I was thinking of this one I couldn’t help but think of the scene on mustafar… sorry.) He doesn’t actually choke you but sometimes he likes to put pressure on your throat and he likes to look of his hand wrapped around it. Sometimes he’ll even use the force to do so just to feel powerful while doing so.

L= Location (Favorite places to do the do)

Anis favorite place is obviously his bed or your bed but sometimes he’ll let you ride him in his star-fighter… plain and simple.

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blueaetherr · 2 days

Text

permission to feel

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader [she/her]

warning(s): longer than usual, minor mistakes, angst?

summary: the one where two disasters discover lost feelings

author's note: part 2 to this imagine. this was supposed to come out a while ago but i kept changing and rewriting stuff. final product so enjoy as you can.

now playing: come back to me by teyana taylor ft. junie & rick ross

It was late at night when Jude and Y/N decided to stray away from the party. That was what they planned—with hushed discussions, (Jude's) unmistakable winks, one's glances across the room, some slow and steady movements toward the exit—to settle on the beach where Jobe and her brother could find them if they chose to join them sometime later.

But they continued to walk along the beach without a thought to slow down, without a thought beyond themselves and their unceasing conversation.

And they went on to walk along their spontaneous path unbothered. Party music soon became distant to their senses. There were fewer and fewer people to encounter in their wide vicinities. Slurred voices faded into the evening night with ease. Distance between themselves and their siblings stretched beyond agreement—until it was only them, with the company of the sand under their feet and the sound of the sea rolling into itself repeatedly.

And that was okay, really. Even though neither Jude nor Y/N voiced it, this was what they wanted; to be alone together for a moment. One that they probably already robbed themselves of one too many times in the past.

Leaving Jude behind Y/N wandered towards the shoreline of the small beach, quite careless in her steps. She took in a deep inhale, letting her chest rise as she let her senses navigate the setting. Strings of winds softly fanning her face and passing between her fingers, the sea and the sky carefully falling into each other farther out in the distance, sand under, on and laying on her feet—usually, and once irritating and gritty at initial contact—now comforting and warm against her skin.

Letting her chest fall slowly, Y/N closed her eyes. Then, at the touch of wind, the feeling along her legs, the calm in her heart, mind and soul– she smiled.

Being away on holiday let Y/N appreciate the little things whilst being uncaring about her daily obligations. Here she stood, far away from her responsibilities to her family and community. She didn't have to present herself as a model of all things good that others thought came to her innately. She didn't have to wait on anyone; she could receive without feeling she should send too. She didn't have to act as the third parent to her young siblings as they were in the safe care of their parents.

Here, responsibilities were damned to infinity. It was all temporary, of course, she knew that well enough. It's just that, well, for once she could indulge in nothing—or something, or everything—and just rest. That was all she wanted.

Opening her eyes Y/N turned around only to find Jude's gaze stuck on her, his head tilted to the side. She sniffled out a laugh as she made her towards him. "What are you doing?" she asked.

And Jude let his focus remain on her. His gaze circled between Y/N, the sea and the sky, and everything two times over again. His eyes were full of wonder and curiously at the sight of the three differing bodies together and in comparison. Something about resemblances, physical aspects, mirroring movements or even shared loveliness. He had an idea in mind. There was something to say, something to point out. Whether evident or not held no relevance. But he was unsure; a bit of confirmation would ease his mind.

"This... this may sound weird." That was the worry, indeed. That she would find his creation of thoughts and ideas weird. That she would find him weird. But that wasn't it at all. There was a nod and a smile and that was reassuring enough for Jude to resume asking, "Just out of curiosity... has anyone ever compared you to the sea and the sky?"

After telling Jude the meaning behind Blues she had initially believed that all talk and things connected to it anyhow would ultimately die out. She didn't think Jude would catch onto things, even if he was unaware of the fact. Again, Y/N nodded as the existing smile across her lips continued to bloom. "Only one person," she said as she held up a finger.

Jude's face and shoulders fell slightly. He figured this out when he only knew a bit and some about Y/N. There was only one other person who would know this very thing about Y/N, and he knew everything about her. "Please don't tell me it's him." Searching Y/N's expression carefully he found happiness and delight and subtle laughter, and Jude couldn't say he was surprised. Even the mention of his brother in conversation had her in bright spirits. "Really? It was Jobe?"

Y/N scoffed out a laugh. Even while joking Jude still managed to diminish Jobe. "Why are you surprised by that?" she asked as they moved to sit on the sand.

Jude huffed out a deep yet relieving chuckle. "No offence to him. I just—I didn't know he was—" His facial expression almost broke out into a frown, a subtle measure of something. Romantic was the word that first came to him. He knew it didn't apply to his brother nor did Jobe hold anything romantic towards Y/N. The soulmatism between Y/N and Jobe, though grey and blurry, when defined was strictly platonic. There was love between the two and that love would always remain sufficient for them. No more, no less.

Romantic. 'Cause if Jude had been the one to initially compare his friend to the sea and the sky— a pair of bodies he found both regular and remarkable, two figures that reflected Y/N in every way possible— then the gesture would have been romantic. All the way from the intentions down to the execution. Jude pulled in a breath, clearing his throat. "Poetic," was the word he settled with as he shrugged. "I didn't know he was poetic like that."

"Like I always say, he's a sensitive boy," Y/N said, locking her fingers around her knee. "That's probably why I always leaned towards him instead of you growing up." A beat. "That is if you take away other things of course."

"Yeah?"

Y/N hummed, nodding. "Definitely. It lets him be emotionally mature and respond to situations in a logical and understanding manner, and I don't think I could ask for more from someone. Like..." Another beat came between the pair until she let out a sigh, pinching the root of her nose. She already knew what Jude's reaction to her following words would be. "Remember when Jobe had a crush on me?"

Immediately, laughter burst from Jude, filling the open air with his amusement and joy as he leaned back in his place. Y/N tried to discourage him by lightly shoving him though it only encouraged more waves of laughter from Jude. And in the end she had to give up; the sound of happiness, even when originating from mockery, was contagious.

Eventually, Jude let himself calm down. He took a few deep inhales before saying, small laughs still slipping passed his lips, "Oh yes. How could I ever forget?" Being such vivid detail of their childhood and something Jobe could never deny because everyone remembered it, his crush on Y/N was one of the easiest things Jude could tease his brother about.

"The point is— the point is, Jude, yeah," she stressed, dragging her words to overpower his laughter and inability to listen, "you know how I found out about it?" Soon, silence fell over Jude for a second. He tilted his head in thought though nothing relevant came to mind so he shook his head. So Y/N admitted it, straightforward. "He just told me."

His eyes grew narrow. "He told you," he said plainly, his voice dripping with doubt. "Just like that?"

All the possible answers he expected, and Y/N managed to say none of them and less. This whole time he thought Y/N knew about the crush because of him and her brother. Quite unreasonably, the older boys—who had discovered everything from a discussion between their moms—had teased Jobe about the crush when they were younger, and Jude assumed Y/N heard about it in passing.

Turns out that Jude couldn't have been farther from the truth. He had assumed everyone was involved in the network of information except for the person who was responsible for its creation.

"He just told me," Y/N, too, plainly said, her voice somehow expressing empathy for the confusing nature of the situation. She let her chest rise as she turned towards Jude, speaking to him directly. "He mentioned that even though that's how he felt, he knew that it wasn't about to be a forever thing. That's why he was so cool about it– so there was nothing for me to do than also be cool about it."

When Jobe discovered his crush on Y/N, he soon realised that it wouldn't last the way others assumed it would. That crush was a dream, an irrational mix of reality and fantasy and imagination—an accumulation of his favoured elements about his best friend. That's all it was and that's all it ever would be.

Truthfully, Jobe loved Y/N. He did, really, but that was it. He loved her but he knew he could love someone else more and in a different way, first witnessing such when Y/N had been with her first boyfriend. He loved her and she equally loved him too, and that was more than enough. They didn't need more of each other than what they had already established together.

Until they both found their other halves– something they wouldn't find in one another– they were each other's first-person for now, and Jobe was perfectly okay with that.

And as Jobe grew out of crushing on Y/N, he only gained more perspective. All thoughts about Y/N—these desires—never went beyond wanting a friendship with her. There was love but they weren't and never would be intimately bonded to one another. She wasn't his whole world. There was much more beyond his initial ideals about Y/N. He could live with her simply being his best friend for their lifetimes together.

"I'm just saying... you're always asking what makes me and Jobe's tight like that: we give each other permission to feel, both the positive and negative emotions. We give each other grace to be in tune with ourselves first, understanding our baseline feelings and thoughts. And when we can do those things alone and separately, it makes doing them together much easier, you know?"

Sighing, a semblance of a smile appeared upon her face as she turned away from Jude and towards the sea, appreciating its strong yet delicate movements all over and under itself. "Everything is just free to flow... kinda like the waves."

Jude couldn't find himself disagreeing with any of Y/N's words, and a lot of Y/N and Jobe's general interactions during this holiday proved them to be true.

They understood each other beyond spoken words. Their smiles and laughter were always real, wide and overtly alive. Their arguments, though sometimes heated, still held understanding and eventual compromise; there was never a day where they ended things on bad terms. They let their happiness be happiness and they let their sadness exist as sadness. They let their anger present itself as anger. Never to exploit or irritate others, but to let it diminish and falter into safer feelings.

And there was something to learn with that, something to take in and adopt for his own good. But Jude, of course, knew he couldn't just let Y/N gain a win over him like that. Disrupt the moment with a joke. He leaned his head back. "Or maybe it's because you guys are younger siblings."

Confusion briefly laced Y/N's facial expression, weakened with slight laughter. "What?"

"Just think about it," Jude started, "Jobe is my younger brother and you've been the youngest sibling for most of your life as of now and we all know how younger siblings are."

She shook her head and waved him off. She didn't appreciate the emphasis on younger siblings. "I fail to see the connection. If there even is one." Technically, Jude was right (unfortunately) but he was also wrong. In theory, sure, she could understand where his words fit. But in practice, they didn't hold much weight. 'Cause between the four eldest siblings between the two families—in terms of maturity, reliability and trustworthiness to watch over others—Y/N could confidently say that she felt like the eldest with the way she could manage them during their holidays.

"Okay," he said, though the sarcasm was evident in his voice.

"I'm not going to affirm or deny your argument. Besides, it already falls flat by the fact that I'm older." Only by a sole month but that wasn't the point.

There was more to say. Jude could have said more for his defence—there was more to say if he really wanted to. But for now, he let Y/N win. Instead, he let Y/N be happy, he let himself be happy as they shared all kinds of banter and laughter in the night sky.

This was what he wanted, what she initially wanted—what she initially had gone out seeking for and specifically with Jude. And this, supposedly by the power of the universe and stars, was what they were supposed to have and be all along—friends, two people indefinitely intertwined together.

It was quite lovely. It all felt lovely for Jude. To spend time alone with Y/N without her being on edge. To be the one responsible for her joys and her laughter. To share conversations that were outside of his usual scope. To have moments with Y/N that didn't involve their brothers. They were good together as friends. That wasn't to say they were any better than Jobe and Y/N or Jude and her brother. But they were indeed better and more defined than what they used to be and it was all for the better. Two individuals who could interact with one another beyond their familial ties.

And even though what they had wasn't what he wanted, for now, it was enough for Jude. Having Y/N in his good graces was more than enough.

Though he knew their current state wasn't enough for someone else. Jude let his head hang, already knowing the conversation would go south. "What you have with Jobe... is that what you want with me?"

Y/N paused in her movements, thoughts quickly getting in order. "What we have—or some of it at least—it's not unique to your brother," she explained. Though slightly exasperated, her voice remained soft and sweet with understanding. "I have that with everyone. So naturally yes."

"And do you feel like you have that with me?" He wondered.

Her eyes narrowed at his words. "I think you already know that answer, Jude," she said, pointedly. Her softness and sweetness still left room for frustration and annoyance to express themselves. "And before you ask me, I don't know why. I don't know."

Unfortunately, being on good terms didn't cancel out everything that once had them on bad terms. There was still something missing in their friendship that she didn't lack with others. She could have interesting and intrinsic conversations with the parents. She had a bond that was playful and maternal with her younger siblings. She and her brother always found it difficult to stray away from a discussion when it started. She had what she had with Jobe. Some relationships applied to her and the next person over, both in the same or opposite way.

Then there was Jude. Sure, they were close—they were closer than what they used to be—but the distance between them was evident and there, or at least in her eyes. Y/N wanted to be friends, she wanted the two to work out for the better. Y/N didn't want to be angry, sad or annoyed with Jude, she took no joy in any of it. But it was hard to be satisfied when she felt like she was the main one pouring into their friendship while Jude only offered enough to keep them alive while they could be. So much so that she sometimes questioned his intentions with wanting to be her friend.

Still, Y/N tried to remain positive as she turned the conversation positive. "But I understand that these things take time to happen. We share history, and that's not going to go away overnight and probably never will. But I don't think that should stop us from being friends. I want to be your friend. I know that well 'cause you always want to remind me that that's all I've wanted since we were kids."

Letting a low hum, a faint smirk pinched at his cheeks. "I gotta make sure you don't forget," he said.

"It's hard to forget," she said, smiling faintly as she glanced down at her hands. Then without much thought to the question—and the answer—she wondered, "Do you want to be friends with me, Jude?"

A mindless question only required a mindless answer. Yet Jude could only respond with, "Well, um— I mean." He could only stumble over his words; his nerves were acting up. He wanted to answer the question truthfully as Y/N wanted, but it was difficult when things weren't straightforward. Unfortunately, he couldn't just say yes in this case.

But of course, Y/N was unaware of this. In her eyes, his response was a rejection of her friendship. "Oh. Okay, wow." She chuckled, snatching her hand away from Jude. Her smiling exterior contrasted with the stinging burn she felt inward.

Jude tried to reach for Y/N only for her to fold her arms. His face fell, wincing in deep guilt. "Y/N." It wasn't his intention to upset her, but he recognised that he did so nonetheless.

"I-I just didn't think that would be such a difficult question to answer." She stared aimlessly towards the sea, biting down on her lip. She refused to meet his gaze; tears would be shed if she did. "That's all."

She wanted to cave in and hug herself to the point where she just fell into the earth, perhaps even disappear into infinite oblivion and never be found again. She felt embarrassed, beyond humiliated. For the past few weeks, Y/N had given Jude the benefit of the doubt. She had given them another chance, permission to pursue this friendship again. Not for the sake of just being friends but because he said that's what he wanted, and truthfully that's what Y/N wanted too—a mutual agreement.

Or at least that's what Y/N thought. For a want Jude had wanted since forever, the switch-up definitely took her off guard. And now her mind couldn't seem to cast out the doubts tumbling in. Questions about whether Jude actually wanted to be her friend all this time, whether he was just leading her on just to beat her down later on. Questions regarding his sincerity and concern for her. Questions over whether he was only putting up a front as her friend, perhaps he was only making her smile and laugh out of pity and obligation for his past actions.

All this time Y/N had this genuine want to be friends with Jude, something she had been building up to accommodate. So to see that suddenly not be reciprocated, after these last few months, she could only feel pure betrayal. All he had to say was one word. It would have validated her thoughts, calmed her doubts and put her mind at ease. A simple yes, but even that he failed to do—he outright refused.

But hey, it was not like that was anything new.

Maybe Y/N was reaching for something that just wasn't meant to be, even with the input of the universe. It wasn't hard to recall that Jude and Y/N didn't begin as friends, and for the longest time despite the many chances, they were never moved to become friends. Jude's unfavourable behaviour and attitude towards her used to be habitual—so normalised to the point where Y/N would remain unphased from time to time.

She had gotten so excited, so caught up about this idea of friendship—forming something good and special with Jude—that she failed to realise he could easily fall back into his previous ways just as quickly as he fell out of them. It slipped her mind that he didn't have to stay faithful to their mutual agreement.

So it was a real possibility– Jude didn't want to be friends with Y/N as much as she thought he did. And perhaps Y/N needed to accept it and let him go. Maybe that's why the two were together alone; perhaps Jude wanted to let her down softly in hopes that the blow would hurt less with the absence of others.

But even that didn't sound like enough to Y/N. He should have just rejected her at the party in front of everyone and the internet, to make her understand that she had to stop holding out hope for someone that didn't want her in the first place. That she was delusional for ever thinking that Jude wanted something meaningful with her in the first place.

This disaster, it was all on her.

"You don't understand. It's not like that," Jude pled. He knew reaching her was only going to get harder from here. It was never like that. It was never like that. Not even for a moment.

"Then tell me, Jude." She wore a facial expression that was tired and withdrawn. Tired of the humiliation and rejection she always had to face at the hands of Jude. Was she really that easy of a target? She exhaled as she closed her eyes. "Help me understand. I want to feel for you, but I can't if I don't understand. What about the thought of being friends with me is so hard for you to hear about? So much that you can't even answer my question."

It would be fitting to say that Y/N was fed up. She had spent many years being disappointed and annoyed by Jude, and by some point she had gotten used to it. But they made up and discovered new ground for them to settle on. She gave him another chance to do right by her. But of course, he couldn't resist doing her wrong all over again.

Did Jude do all of that just to bring her down, to make her deeply feel all that disappointment and annoyance again all at once? Was this just another cruel way for him to have another victory over her? Was she so terrible that she couldn't be desired as a friend by the very guy who was desired by everyone else?

"I know. It's just—" Jude released a slow breath. Because he knew that after this he wasn't about to get another chance to explain himself a third time. Y/N was tired and sad and feeling all kinds of ways towards him. He could no longer give half-truths like last time; only the simple truth would suffice. "Just know that I haven't lied, just left out a few things before," he assured, though he wasn't sure it was assuring.

Opening her eyes, Y/N let out a sigh. "What is it?"

Jude mumbled under his breath as he pinched his eyebrow. No half-truths, just the simple truth. "You know Jobe's crush on you?" Ironic. The very thing he had been laughing at only moments ago was the same thing bringing him rightful torment and embarrassment.

She quickly turned to Jude, her nose scrunched up. "What about it?" At first, she felt like the conversation was heading in the wrong direction. But Jude didn't correct himself or anything so she didn't say anything further.

"You know that he doesn't talk about you a lot to me, right?" Her face still remained confused but she nodded nonetheless. "Okay well when his crush on you was at his peak, he would talk a lot about you, like what he liked about you and all. He didn't say all that to me but to my mum, his friends, you know? But I would still be around sometimes hearing everything he was saying. And... I think me back then found his words so convincing that his crush on you kinda rubbed off on me."

Y/N initially heard the humour behind his words before her eyes widened; the realisation came in all at once that surrounding distractions became null. Along with Jobe at some point, Jude had had a crush on her.

"I never really acknowledged it so I didn't really try to concern myself with you." Jude tilted his head as he rubbed his jaw. He was struggling with his words; to be outwardly vulnerable took a lot of courage. "My... my crush for you was because of Jobe's crush on you so it would fade."

"I thought it would fade. Jobe's crush on you eventually faded but... I don't think mine ever did. I still didn't acknowledge it because we weren't on good terms for a long time nor we were even friends. I didn't think what I was feeling about you was, like, real. And then we made up, and I still felt the same as before." Sniffling, Jude turned to look at Y/N and captured her gaze. It was quite easy in fact. From his eyes to his all-around facial expression; it was nothing short of devastation and truth—it was all rather captivating. "I still do."

Y/N had to lean back in her place and ponder for a moment or more. What Jude was saying—there was a lot to take in and accept. There was far more than enough going on, in her mind, in her heart. Feeling more emotions than she was used to carrying. All in one night she and Jude went from being simply friends to almost reverting to their previous relations to then finally discovering that, actually, Jude had liked her all this time. And that slightly scared her because unlike before, she wholeheartedly believed every word he spoke.

"The reason I didn't say anything to being friends with you isn't 'cause I don't want to be friends. I'm not cruel like that you know," he chuckled, bitterly. He disliked how despite everything he felt for her, he managed to make her feel like he felt the opposite. One couldn't be further from the truth. "Obviously, I want to be friends, Y/N. It's just hard answering the question knowing that I want more than that. That's all."

She blinked a few times before responding, "Why didn't you tell me before?" Believing Jude didn't cancel out the remaining gaps in the story. If Jude had felt for her all this time– just over five years– why was he only telling her now?

"Because," Jude strung out a breath, slightly deflating a bit. He began to toy with his fingers. "After everything that's happened between us, I didn't think it was fair for me to feel that way towards you."

He had tried to play it off with denial for a while but the truth always persevered above others—Jude had feelings for Y/N. There was uncertainty as to what was what but he could definitively say that he liked her, and he was in way too deep to return them. But he also knew well that everything he felt for Y/N was disproportionate to what he should feel for her, what he deserved to feel for her.

He always assumed that's why Jobe never made the effort to make them friends, why Jobe made it his mission to remind Jude who Y/N ended up being friends with despite her initial intentions. Truthfully, he was undeserving of her feelings, of her time, of her energy. He was undeserving of her altogether.

Yet weirdly, Y/N never acted like that was the case. And if she believed it then she never displayed that through her words or actions. Since they made up, she showed him nothing but grace and understanding. Treated him like she treated her siblings and Jobe, and that only made Jude feel immense guilt. While he was struggling to give her his slightest parts, she managed to always give him her all.

It made him wonder sometimes why she was so willing to be his friend. Yes, she forgave him and yes, they reconciled and started over again. Still, doubts wandered about in Jude's mind more than they drifted into nothing. He was delusional—to think that they could exist as something beyond friends, to think his friendship with her could even slightly match what she shared with Jobe. While Jobe had been poetic and compared Y/N to the sky and the oceans, Jude had only brought Y/N plain misery in the past.

Yeah, he didn't stand a chance.

Besides, it was very likely everything he felt for her was narrow and simply one-sided. After everything that has happened between the two, after all the distress Jude had once brought into her life, why would she feel anything for him?

Jude cleared his throat. "But yeah, that's what I wanted to tell you." He said everything that needed to be said. He spoke the truth and withheld no further truths. Still, he didn't know if he felt any better or relieved after doing so. Whether it was worth it or not would be up to Y/N's verdict. "I'm sorry if I just piled everything on you like that."

She shook her hand as she waved him off. "I asked so... you shouldn't feel like that," Y/N said, the sound of her words slowly faltering. There wasn't much to say.

Evidently, there was a reluctance for the two to continue the conversation, to define what they now were and what they would be after tonight. A lot was said and a lot needed to be taken in. The want to abandon the discussion was there and to even sit in silence was favourable at this point. But they were mature, young adults; they would see it through until the end. At least they had the comfort of the sky and the ocean; even with the uncertainty of Jude and Y/N to stretch beyond the following day, the two bodies would exist in the morning and forever after that.

Suddenly, Jude huffed out a small laugh. "Jobe does say that kindness is your best and worst quality," he pointed out as a sad smile pulled at his lips.

Her brows drifted up, her head tilting slightly. "Really?"

"Yeah. I mean look at us now." Jude gestured between the two, and he was right. They were friends—or had only been able to be friends—because she had been kind enough to extend some grace to him a few months ago. It was all her while he created problem after problem for the pair.

"Take away the last five minutes. We are where we are because I allowed it. I forgave you—"

"And you were understandably ready to take that back."

"Yes, I know. I know," she spoke with a calm tone. She needed Jude to understand that she didn't want to be argumentative, she didn't want to fall into another argument. They needed to finish the conversation for both of their sakes. "But now I understand things better now. About you, about me."

He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. "Yeah? Like what?" His voice carried a sense of resignation as if he had already accepted his fate. It's okay. Just say it. I don't want to be friends anymore, Jude.

"Jude." Suddenly, there was a change in how she spoke. Her voice, her tone—it was small yet measured and smooth and effortlessly persuasive. So much so that Y/N was able to pull Jude away from his conflicting thoughts. She caught his gaze with hers and rewarded him with a gentle smile. "I might like you as much as you like me."

He claimed that he had a crush on her though Y/N didn't think that was the correct label. Who did once have a crush on her was Jobe. Things were easy and casual and normal after he told her. They were still able to be friends effortlessly almost like he had never told her in the first. Y/N was for the most part, unaffected.

But it was different with Jude. There was something there for sure. She could feel the words he spoke. She wanted him to resume talking whenever he stopped. Even when he committed wrong, she found herself gravitating towards him. Jude and Jobe shared the same eyes yet she only found Jude's to be enchanting. Her gaze for him reflected considerable admiration and longing. For a person she couldn't stand for the longest time, she couldn't bring herself to look away.

And everything she had internalised about him, Jude almost felt the exact same. There was nothing easy or casual or normal about the two.

Jude paused in his movements as his mouth fell open. "Oh?" His voice grew a few octaves.

Despite feeling her cheeks grow warm, she continued to hold his gaze which wasn't hard considering Jude refused to look away too, and nodded slowly. "Yeah..."

Everything, from the beginning of the discussion to now, it was all overwhelming 'cause for once, they could finally say I understand.

They used to be two individuals who were thought to be incompatible and barred from ever experiencing one another. Their problems were endless yet weirdly similar every time. The first time they couldn't bear to be friends only to discover that was the fault of misguided feelings. The second time they questioned their friendship only to discover that was at the fault of their own buried and undisclosed feelings—feelings Jude once thought to be one-sided, feelings Y/N didn't notice up until recent moments.

Jude and Y/N thought that they would stop there, at friends. But now feelings, intentional yet confusing, were involved and from both sides.

And that kinda left the two in an awkward position. They didn't exactly know where to go from where they were, the grey area between friends and lovers(?). Was it best to pull away and take things slowly, or close the gap and rush to experience all the things they had missed out on by their own faults? An awkward position indeed.

But it was a good, awkward position. It would let the pair start fresh, reimagine their dynamics and bring to reality what they should have been from the beginning. They were walking on fairly new territory but that was something they would soon learn to navigate with ease. 'Cause now there was a sense of relief to everything that was about Jude and Y/N. For the longest time, they were plagued by secrets upon secrets that crafted nothing but distrust, hostility, anger, annoyance and probably more.

Now, they could rid themselves of everything harmful and damaging. That anger, that hostility, that annoyance– could perhaps be laid to rest to make way for all things infant and shy yet genuine between them. That desire, that tenderness, that love and all coming from both directions. It was thrilling and fascinating to observe and something new.

Her gaze shifted down towards her hands, clasping them together. "That doesn't take away from the fact that you've fucked me over. So much that you managed to fuck yourself over." While harsh she knew that she had to point out Jude's previous wrongs, especially knowing how he was one to get in over his head over the smallest things. She had to let him know that whatever they ended up being after tonight, it was because she chose to let them happen. She had control over how they would end or continue as a pair.

Jude nodded in agreement. "I know." A drop in his tone, yet one could hear the hint of happiness in his voice. He didn't want to misplace his emotions in the conversation, he really didn't. Though it was hard not to now after discovering his once unreciprocated feelings were actually reciprocated from the very person he had unknowingly been crushing on since forever. Maybe he wasn't so delusional for holding on to hope.

"But," she breathed in a good lungful as a smile budded upon her lips. Witnessing Jude's unserious demeanour was making it hard to maintain her own. "I also think you're wonderful."

"Wonderful?"

"I remember my mum describing you as wonderful once," she explained briefly. "Jude, he's wonderful, she said or whatever. But because we never got along before I always thought being wonderful was something negative rather than it being positive. And even after that, I still found you wonderful. Maybe not towards me but still wonderful. Wonderful but in the way my mum intended for me to understand which makes sense; my mum is never wrong."

"Your mum is never wrong," Jude repeated with a laugh.

"Can I be real with you for a second?" When he nodded it was then when Y/N decided to drop her guard, and she didn't plan to pull it back up in front of Jude again. She took hold of his hand and let their fingers intertwine. "I want wonderful, Jude. I want us to have wonderful. I know you have done some questionable things—I have too—but that doesn't stop us from deserving it. We deserve this for us."

She was right. Jude and Y/N have spent so much energy and time on one another only to share many poor experiences. They have spent so much time hating just to hate, despising each other for reasons beyond knowledge. They have spent so much time, so many years exchanging harsh and miserable feelings. Over misunderstandings, over uninformed decisions as kids. So much negative when it should have been all positive and happy and gleeful. It cost them the love and affection they were supposed to experience in the first place.

And that's why they deserved to like each other without shame or guilt, to be young and in love without the judgement of others. Jude deserved to like Y/N without a reminder of his past actions; she forgave him after all. Y/N deserved to like Jude—to experience wonderful—despite his past actions. They deserved to experience love for what it was, and specifically with each other.

This was the final plea. She was tired of getting only half of Jude all the time, tired of seeing strangers receive more of Jude than she ever did. For once in her life, she wanted to be selfish and have him whole.

Jude glanced at their interlocked hands, feeling his lips curve upward as he let their hands sway a bit. Testing out the waters. And he couldn't lie, he enjoyed the moment more than he could have ever imagined. "I do too. Probably why we never worked as friends." He returned his gaze to Y/N and beamed even more when he realised they were carrying the same expression; glances of guiltless delight. "Wonderful sounds great."

The universe and the stars were wrong to initially assign Y/N and Jude as friends. A straight misdirection of fate. Because even if that intention had been a reality for a little longer, no matter how hard the pair tried, the feelings would've surfaced eventually. And now they were here, fully disclosed and expressed from both sides. All because Y/N and Jude extended grace and gave themselves—and each other—permission to feel for one another truthfully.

So when they were over the silence gazing, they fell into a kiss that was softly endearing and delicate. For the lost time they would never be able to retrieve. For the feelings that were forever lost in time. For the time they weren't able to acknowledge their feelings for what they were. For the fact that they weren't able to fall in love traditionally. For all the love and fondness that was shadowed by misunderstandings over the years.

This moment– this was exclusively theirs to treasure.

Pulling apart they still craved one another, reasonably; their lips just barely touching to breathe each other in, one nose leaning on another for that extra contact, eyes closed so their remaining senses could focus on the person they had been deprived of for what felt like a lifetime.

What brought Jude to pull away further was the distant sound of the sea and the sight of the moon from the corner of his eye. He let out a lighthearted chuckle. If that was the case then his attention never really shifted away from Y/N. "Don't tell my brother."

"Only if you don't tell mine."

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