#and they will also be awkward and heavy to actually read

[mzcain27]

It’s 5 in the morning I should be asleep but I’m trying to decide which editions of stormlight archive to get

[joelsgoldrush]

“GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE” | 10k

logan howlett x fem!reader

part 2 of “GUILTY PLEASURE”

"Your hungry flirt borders intrusion / And I'm building memories on things we have not said / Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly, my love / Give me the first taste / Let it begin, heaven cannot wait forever / Darling, just start start the chase, I'll let you win." The First Taste by Fiona Apple

SUMMARY: From the moment you first laid eyes on Logan, you knew he was a tough nut to crack. But if there’s one thing you love, it’s a challenge. As your relationship grows, you’re determined to show him that, in this universe, he can also be loved.

WARNINGS/TAGS: smut - mdni 18+ fluff, angst, drinking, dirty talk, slow-burnish, age-gap (reader is 25), once again wade saves the day, domestic!logan, soft dom!logan, logan calls reader “kid”, they watch (500) days of summer, oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering, thigh riding, thumb sucking, throat fucking, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, creampie (i would say i’m sorry but i’d be lying)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: jeez. hi guys!!! hope you’re doing alright. this is the 2nd part to “guilty pleasure.” writing for these two has been a total rollercoaster, but god was it worth it. as i always tell you, english isn’t my first language, so if you come across any mistake and you feel like letting me know, there’s no problem. thank you so much for all the support you’ve been giving my posts. i’m happy strangers out there take the time to read my silly stories :)

A girl and a mutant walk into an apartment…

Actually, you’re still trying to come up with the rest of the joke. But one thing’s true: Logan’s about to set foot in your place.

You curse under your breath, putting both your hands to work as you struggle to open the door. “Fucking swollen wood. I hate humidity,” you mutter, glancing back at Logan, who frowns as you keep trying different maneuvers to get the door to function properly.

It’s a shitty situation overall. And having that gorgeous man practically glued to your back isn’t helping in any way. You can tell he wants to give you a hand, but you’re not having it—women in STEM or something of the sort.

“May I—” he starts, though you cut him off before he can finish.

“I’ve got this. Just need to—” you say, ramming your shoulder into the door with enough force to make it finally give away. Almost stumbling over the carpet but managing to catch yourself, you sigh in relief. Meanwhile, Logan stands still, scrutinizing you until you gesture for him to enter. “Welcome to the smallest apartment in New York City. It's nothing fancy, but it’s got everything you need for a comfortable stay on a budget. Make yourself at home!”

Logan narrows his eyes, the tiniest smirk playing on his lips before stepping inside. Each of his movements seems to be premeditated as he tosses his jacket onto the couch, surveying the room. A portrait of when you were a kid, probably six or seven years old, catches his attention. He tilts his head, picking up the picture to examine it more closely, and then flashes you a lopsided grin. “How cute.”

“Well, I’ve changed a lot,” you take the picture from his hands, returning it to the shelf where he had gotten it from. 

“Well,” he echoes, mocking your tone, “your beauty certainly hasn’t.”

His eyes bore into you as you meet his gaze. What amazes you most is that he’s being completely honest. In a heartbeat, you look away, wondering what’s gotten into you. Usually, you’re not this awkward—you’ve learned how to take compliments over the years, knowing how to smile just right, to flutter your eyelashes. To blush and giggle in command. Those were the tools that helped you to survive countless first dates—your dearest aces up your sleeve.

There’s no use denying that they remained just that: first, failed dates. You hope you never have to go back to dating apps after this.

“Are you hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving,” you say, trying to walk away from him, although he’s faster, catching your hand in his. 

“Hey,” he urges you to make eye contact with him, his voice perplexingly soft. “Is everything okay?”

You nod so vigorously that you nearly strain your neck. “I’m fine, I swear. I just never get past this point.”

Inching closer, he presses his lips together for a split second, his brows furrowing in confusion. “You lost me there.”

“Guys who come into my apartment don’t tend to call back,” you admit, a flush creeping up your face, cheeks getting hotter. “I happen to believe it’s a curse, though I’ve kissed, like, a hundred toads so far and it still won’t break.”

“So y’think you’re gonna scare me off,” he raises an eyebrow, grinning. His rough fingers become gentle as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s sweet. Should be the other way around.”

Wow. You two are a match made in heaven.

As you detach yourself from his embrace and head to the kitchen, you decide to look for something edible in the fridge, finding different trays of food from days ago, none of which look appetizing or suitable for feeding the Tin Woodman standing behind you.

All of a sudden, the unmistakable metallic sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing rings in your ears, forcing you to spin around. The image that unfolds before you is peculiar, to say the least: he’s cornering your cat against the door.

Why is he about to fight a cat?

“Please don’t kill him?” you take a step in his direction and scoop the little ball of white fur into your arms. Logan stares at both of you, eyes squinted and brows knitted. “I’m sure he’s the cutest feline you’ve ever seen. Have mercy on him.”

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“Earnest wasn’t aware of your existence either,” you reply, scratching along the animal’s back. He purrs beside your neck, his yellowish eyes never leaving Logan’s. “Earnest, this is Logan. He has claws just like you.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to that,” Logan warns you, retracting his claws with a sigh. You can’t help but wonder if he ever feels tranquil, at peace. “Y’know, you’ve doomed him to bad fortune with that name. Is he at least toilet trained?”

“Are you hating on The Importance of Being Earnest?” you ask, expecting a retort, though apparently the play’s title doesn’t ring a bell for him. “Oscar Wilde?”

“Who do you think you’re talkin’ to, kid?”

Now’s your time to roll your eyes, setting the cat down and letting it run away. He likes to hide in the bathroom—don’t ask why, because not even you know the answer to that. You flick your gaze up back to Logan, placing your hands on your hips. “See, you gave him trust issues.”

“He’ll survive. Don’t they have seven lives?”

This is the perfect conversation to have with someone who just ate you out thirty minutes ago: how many lives do cats have. Jesus.

At some point, Logan flops onto the couch, stretching out. You shudder as you hear him crack his neck, the popping sound getting on your nerves. He pats the empty side of the sofa, spreading his thighs until he’s almost taking up all the space. “Come here.”

Putting aside all your thoughts, you accept the invitation. You sit down, motionless, and his arm grazes the cushion behind your head, pulling you closer to him. You rest your cheek on his chest, letting out a deep sigh, one that you’ve been holding in since you got to the apartment. Is it possible that he knows you craved this? This proximity, this kind of affection. To be held—it’s been your only wish for months. He drums his fingers on your shoulder blades, then starts rubbing your back ever so lightly.

Far from dozing off, you feel alive.

It’s hard not to lose track of time and space when you find yourself immersed in the warmth he offers, and that’s when you realize how deeply you’re falling for this man. “Logan?” the mere thought of asking him what’s been on your mind terrifies you. The last thing you want is to ruin things—or whatever it is that you have. He hums, a low, heavy sound in his throat, indicating you to continue. “I have a question.”

“Ask away.”

You lift your face from his chest and look him in the eye. The city’s still alive outside, with music and chatter sneaking in through the window. Everything seems to be perfect, and you wish you could stay like this—just staring at him as if he were a painting in a museum, and you the critic who can’t stop writing articles about its beauty.

Okay, that was… weirdly specific. 

Logan tries to hide his smile as you peck his lips repeatedly. For a moment, you almost forget what you were going to ask him in the first place. But then he’s ready to listen, and you a wave of nausea washes over you.

“I know that we came here to… engage in adult practices.”

“Fucking, you mean.”

“I didn’t want to be that straightforward, but yeah,” you say, shaking your head as to rearrange your thoughts. “Would you mind if we stayed like this?” to emphasize your point, you kick your shoes off and put your legs on top of his lap. He observes the whole sequence without daring to utter a word. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to try that too. I truly do. But… right now, all I want is to cuddle,” he’s still silent, making you even more nervous. “I’m sorry. Is that okay with you?”

His whole body engulfs yours, your cheek coming to rest once again in its original position. You can feel the rhythmic beating of his heart, each breath he takes, the air he exhales dampening your nape. Logan peppers your neck with chaste kisses before pressing his lips to your temple. His voice comes out strained, partially muffled by your hair. “Who do you take me for, huh?” he’s right there, beside your ear, fucking everywhere. There isn’t a single centimeter of your exposed skin that he isn’t touching, marking as his. You don’t give him an answer, in part because you’re unsure of what to say. He takes your silence as a cue to keep talking. “Let me take you to bed.”

“I can walk on my own.”

“I know,” he mutters, standing up with you in his arms, one arm beneath your knees and the other one under your shoulders. Logan’s not used to being this cautious, this patient with someone he’s known for less than two weeks. You see it in his eyes when he lets his guard down—something that has cracked, a shell that’s been broken.

As he places you gently on top of the covers, he lingers for a moment, crouching beside the bed and searching for your lowered gaze. His fingers are warm as he tilts your chin up. “I didn’t come here just to have sex with you. That was a possibility, of course—but it’s not the main reason why I’m here,” he rasps, words accompanied by the light brush of his lips against yours for a quick, brief kiss. “I care about you. A lot. I’m fine with whatever we do as long as I get to be close to you,” he grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He then goes back to his usual bossy self, his demeanor changing. “And I don’t want to hear you apologizing for not wanting to have sex ever again. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now you’re making jokes?”

“I can’t have serious conversations,” you confess, observing the look of pure confusion on his face. “It’s true. I once spoke at a funeral and they cut me off forty seconds into my speech.”

Logan laughs at your sudden confession, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Rising to his feet, he begins to unbutton his flannel, pausing after the first few buttons are undone, waiting for your approval. “Do you want me to stay tonight?” 

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

His words don’t hide any real threat—that you know.

You stifle your laughter, shedding your clothes. Instead of going to the bathroom to change, you toss your work clothes carelessly to the floor, opting for an old pair of pajamas that are the complete opposite of sexy. They surely have seen better days.

Logan’s eyes trail over you, taking his time to analyze the faded lettering on your wrinkled shirt. “Keep calm and eat pizza?” he reads aloud.

“Hey. I bought it when I was seventeen.”

“You could use a new wardrobe.”

“Well, what about you?” you tease, toying with his belt. “You’re gonna sleep like this in my bed?”

“Can’t wait for me to get my shirt off, huh?” he grins, that all-too-familiar smile on his lips.

You play along, folding your arms over your chest. “You think so highly of yourself.”

Without breaking eye contact, Logan unbuckles his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles. He then shrugs off his flannel, leaving him in just his briefs and vest. You scan his body, and the room suddenly feels a hundred degrees hotter, the air between you thickening. Logan notices your reaction, chuckling. “Don’t get too excited. This is all you’re getting today.”

“I think I’ve already heard that before.”

“Kid.”

You raise your hands in surrender, showing him your palms and mouthing ’sorry’. Approaching your bed, you pull back the covers and slip into it. When you see Logan still standing there, you frown. “Where are your manners? Come here. I’m very impatient.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but he doesn’t make you wait long. He proceeds to get under the sheets beside you, occupying that side of the bed that’s always been empty. As you both settle in, facing each other, you can’t help but giggle, your contagious laugh getting to him. “What now?”

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your index finger, a featherlight touch that has him closing his eyes. In the soft glow of the night, with the city’s distant sounds filtering in, he looks breathtaking. “I mean it.”

“Do you have an off switch?”

“I’m… not sure. Let’s find out tomorrow.”

“You need to sleep,” he pulls you onto his chest with firm but gentle hands. He intertwines his legs with yours, holding you close.

“Wait. I have a game to play.”

“It’s late.”

“Please?”

He sighs. “Okay.”

“We have to make confessions until we fall asleep.” 

“You just want to talk—that doesn’t even qualify as a game.”

“It does in this universe,” you reply, feeling his chest rumble with a chuckle as you settle more comfortably against him. “I’ll start: remember the first night you came to the bar?” he hums in acknowledgment. “It wasn’t Burger Night. We don’t serve food. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “I knew. You don’t have a kitchen down there, baby,” he falls silent, taking his time to come up with a confession of his own. “I have a fear of flying.”

“Really? You, of all people?”

“I wasn’t expecting to be judged.”

“Oh, don’t be such a crybaby,” you tease, burying your face further into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He shivers slightly where your nose touches his skin. “I like you. It’s kind of scary, and I’m sure saying something like this probably goes against the rules of dating 101, but I do. I feel safe with you, like—like this is where I’m supposed to be.”

Almost as if the pieces of the puzzle finally fit together, you think to yourself, though the words stay unspoken.

You’ve come to learn that Logan’s not a man of many words—he’s more of the “show, don’t tell” kind of guy. So when he makes you lift your face, you’re not surprised by the way he kisses you: hungrily. Passionately, like a starved man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. A soft whimper gets lost somewhere in your throat as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, languidly stroking yours.

“We didn’t brush our teeth,” you whisper against his lips, laughing when he groans in exasperation.

“You love having the final say, don’t you?”

“I’m being serious, Logan. Cavities are a real issue for me.”

“You can always get new teeth.”

“But my morning breath—”

“It’ll stink anyway, and so will mine,” he responds, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat once he settles into his ideal sleep position. “Good night.”

“Night,” you murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his neck. Despite your efforts to ignore it, being cradled like this feels incredible. You can’t believe you went twenty-five years without it.

Just as you’re about to drift off, curiosity strikes. “Can you get tattoos?”

“Bub, I was actually falling asleep.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry,” you mumble, feeling a bit sheepish.

More silence.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“What was the Great Depression like?”

“Fuck me,” he mutters, his voice gruff as he shifts lightly. “It was fine. Now go to sleep.”

And you do, but not for long. An abrupt coldness wakes you up, eyes wide open, feeling disoriented. It’s still pitch black outside, far quieter than when you first fell asleep. The clock on your nightstand reads it’s 3:17 am, though it feels like you’ve only been in bed for five minutes.

Then you see him—he’s twitching in his sleep on the far side of the bed, his painful grunts reaching your ears. Most of what he says is unintelligible, but there’s one word he keeps repeating over and over again without fail: “No.”

You don’t usually have nightmares. What’s the best way to wake someone from one? You’re still thinking when he starts mumbling again, his voice thick with distress, and now he’s throwing his arms in the air as if he were fighting off something—or someone—in his dreams.

Pressing your hands to his cheeks, you attempt to hold his face steady. He clenches his fists, his breath quickening the more he battles whatever’s haunting him. “Logan,” you whisper at first, subtly shaking his shoulders, but his eyebrows stay furrowed, deep in his nightmare. This time, you tighten your grip, fully sitting on top of him. “Logan. Logan! Wake up!”

Without warning, you’re on your back, pinned against the mattress. Logan’s straddling your hips, caging you in with his body, the weight of his adamantium skeleton pressing down. Your hands are trapped beneath his, and you watch as he clenches his jaw, teeth bared in a way that looks painful. His eyes are so dark and wild you barely recognize him, prominent veins throbbing in his neck with each labored breath he takes.

“Logan,” your own voice sounds unnatural, forced, as you do your best to bring him back to reality. “It’s me. You’re alright.”

That seems to get through him. Logan stares at you in disbelief, his eyes softening as they take in your terrified expression. He abruptly pulls away, retreating to the nearest wall. He’s gasping for air, slamming his eyes shut, his legs trembling. The only sound you can hear is his rapid breathing. You get up from the bed, taking a step in his direction, but you don’t manage to go any further since he stops you with a shout.

“Stay right there!” he’s growling, pointing his finger at you. “I’m serious. Don’t come any closer.”

“Logan…”

“Please, no!” his voice increases in pitch, not being able to meet your eyes. “Please. Just stay there.”

You comply, not wanting to upset him any further. Sitting back on your knees, you try to appear calm. A man so strong, capable of things you can’t even understand. A weapon turned against himself now stands before you, pushing you away as if his presence were poisonous. He slumps to the floor, the fabric of his vest soaked with sweat.

Once he’s fully conscious, you cautiously crawl toward him, watching his every move. On a random day, this might have been funny for both of you, but right now, there’s no room for laughter. Logan shakes his head, his shoulders tensing when you reach out to hug him, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. It takes him a couple of minutes, but eventually, his body sags against yours. For a while, neither of you speaks. You just thread your fingers through his hair, hoping the closeness will help soothe him. “Feeling better?” you whisper in the shell of his ear, and he pulls back to look you in the eye. You caress his cheek, his stubble rough against your skin. “Welcome back.”

“I’m sorry,” it’s the first thing he says, covering your hand with his. One by one, he kisses your knuckles, still shaking his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You had a nightmare—it’s not like you could control it.”

“But I could’ve hurt you,” he says, lowering his gaze to your wrists, where his fingerprints have left their mark. “God. I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

“Wait!” you grab his arm, your mouth setting in a hard line, stopping him from leaving. “Don’t run away from me, not now. Don’t push me away, Logan.”

“I could’ve done something much worse.”

“But you didn’t. It was a nightmare, baby. You didn’t know,” you kiss his forehead, hoping to talk some sense into him. “Please, stay. Let’s try to get some more sleep.”

“What if—”

You hold his face close to yours, your noses brushing. “You won’t hurt me.” 

This time, he lets you keep him close, the roles now reversed. You can see him fighting his exhaustion, not wanting to fall asleep. But the more you play with his hair, the harder it is for him to stay awake.

“I’m alright,” he says, seemingly reading your mind. It’s hard to tell whether he’s reassuring you or himself.

“I know,” you knead his shoulder, aiming to ease the tension knotted there. “You better sleep, or I might start rambling again.”

A faint, tired hum escapes him, at long last allowing his eyes to close. “I like hearing you talk,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your collarbone, drifting off soon after that.

You continue to hug him, feeling the weight of his body gradually relax against yours as his breathing evens out. The room is quiet, but your mind is far from it: a tornado of emotions swirls within you—concern, relief, love, and something else you can’t quite decipher. It isn’t until sleep finally claims you too that your brain stops going a hundred kilometers an hour.

The most surreal Sunday night of your whole life.

“So… when will you let me see Lolo again?”

Wade’s question makes you stop mid-pour, flicking your eyes between the drink and him. A few seats away, you hand a glass to Adam. Returning to where Wade’s currently sitting, you dry your hands on your apron. “Why are you even here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, and he gives half a shrug. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t holding him against his will.”

“He’s been crashing at your place almost every night. You have your own methods, woman,” he raises one finger, then quickly adds another, pointing at your shirt. “Two methods, in fact.”

At that, you laugh mirthlessly, shaking your head with a grin. “I’m surprised anyone would willingly date you.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts, taking a tentative sip of his beer and leaning back in his chair.

You glance at him while you wipe down the bar, looking for something to occupy your hands. “He’s not my boyfriend—yet.”

Wade mimics a punch in his chest, just where his heart’s supposed to be, though you’re starting to question whether he has one. His lips form a small, exaggerated pout. “That must hurt, doll. You got yourself into a situationship with a goddamn fossil. Good luck getting out of that.”

“It’s not that bad,” you say, rolling your eyes. “We’re cool this way. There’s absolutely no need for a title.”

“Okay, let’s rehearse that one more time because you look like you’re about to cry,” he lifts an eyebrow, drawing nearer. “You want the title, right?”

“I don’t.”

He props his chin on his hand, laughing at you. “Yes, you do. You can’t fool me.”

“I said I don’t.”

“I said I don’t,” he mocks you, kicking his legs and puckering his lips.

You can’t help but throw the towel down on the counter with irritation, giving in. “Okay! Of course, I want the fucking title.”

“There she is!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in a triumphant gesture. “Glad we’re speaking the truth now,” he tilts his head to the side, noticing your sudden silence. “Hey, drop the long face. I’m sure he’s been thinking about it. In order to understand Logan, I usually compare him to elders over ninety.”

“Why would you do that?” you ask, your tone a mix of mild annoyance and curiosity.

“Just think about it! Senior citizens didn’t date for too long in the past. They’d go straight from strangers to lovers. Take my grandparents, for example: in the span of one year, they met at a party, then got married, and had five kids. Do you really want to have a litter of Logan’s grumpy, hairy puppies?”

“Wade, that’s not even possible.”

“The point is,” he continues, finishing his beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Logan’s rusty in this area, alright? I’d bet a thousand dollars he probably dated Cleopatra.”

“How did you pass History in high school?”

“I never graduated, but keep that between us,” he lifts his shoulders, shrugging. He spins the empty bottle, contemplating his next words. “You should tell him how you feel and what you want. That’s what works best for Vanessa and me. It’s easier that way—you can’t expect him to just guess.”

You wrap your arms around yourself. “I just wish he’d realize it on his own.”

“Well, sometimes you need to give the other person a bit of guidance. I’m just laying out the basics of a relationship here. Did your parents hate each other or something?”

The irony of it all. “They got divorced when I was little.” 

“Oh, god,” Wade sighs, rubbing his temples before glancing at you. “Let me get this straight: Mommy and Daddy weren’t exactly the poster children for love. And you also happen to be a bartender. Anything else, honey? Please tell me you’re at least getting laid, because otherwise, I’m going to feel tremendously sorry for you and your mental health.”

Just then, you hear your name being called. Smiling at Wade, you mumble: “Saved by the bell.” Once you’re back from taking some orders, Wade jumps to his feet, coming around the counter to hug you.

“Dude, what’s the matter with you?” you ask, loosely returning the hug. 

“You’re a fucking survivor,” he whispers in your ear, genuinely sounding concerned. “I don’t know how you do it—you seem so put together. I would’ve lost it by now. A life without sex sounds awful.”

“Jesus, Wade! Get off!” you stretch your arm to punch him in the back, earning a groan from him. “Back to your seat, gentleman. I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“I’m a certified sexologist. Your secret’s safe with me,” he declares with a smirk, gesturing to his empty beer. “But first, I’m gonna need more of this tasty apple juice.”

“I hope you’ve got some cash on you,” you say, getting him another beer. “Why do I get the feeling Logan would kill us if he knew we’re talking about this?”

“Isn’t that what makes it even better?”

Swaying on your feet, you scrunch your nose, momentarily lost in thought. “He won’t let me touch him. I don’t know if it’s me that does something wrong. We do have our… moments, but he takes care of himself. And usually in the bathroom.”

Wade goes white in front of you. “How long has this been going on?”

“Over a month.”

“Oh. That’s bad, like, really bad.”

“Thanks! I’ll be sleeping on the highway tonight. You can always join me.”

“Doll, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed, alright?” he waves his hand dismissively, then sets his palms flat on the counter. “I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but talking to him is your best bet. This isn’t something you can just brush under the carpet. You’re like a goddamn radio—put it to good use.”

Just as you’re about to reply, you spot Logan entering the bar. You raise a hand in greeting, waving at him. He meets your gaze and smiles briefly, and so your eyes drift to Wade’s, shooting him a warning look. “If you keep this to yourself, I won’t charge you for today,” you mutter through gritted teeth, to which he answers by pretending to zip his mouth closed.

Logan takes a seat next to him, ignoring his presence. Instead, he focuses entirely on you. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, homey.”

“Hiya, Wade,” Wade greets himself with a mock cheer, patting his own back, which makes you laugh. He turns to Logan and his whole face lights up. “I’m afraid to tell you I can’t sleep when you’re not around.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Get your shit together.”

“You’re the worst roommate ever! Can’t believe you got yourself a girl and completely forgot about your bro,” Wade murmurs under his breath, just as his phone rings. “Thank God. I’ve got to go. My love nugget’s calling,” he announces, heading for the door. Before leaving, Wade blows the two of you a kiss. “I hate you both, but I also love you. Peace out, my friends!”

Logan and you exchange glances. “He’s a funny guy, isn’t he?”

“You could say that,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. Logan intends to deepen the kiss, but you pull away after a couple of seconds. He frowns, clearly confused. “That’s how you greet me?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “My tip jar is practically empty, and I hate to say it, but it’s your fault.”

“Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”

“Oh, no.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not,” he plants a quick kiss on your cheek, making you smile. “You have classes tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, at 9 am,” you almost grunt, not feeling too enthusiastic about it. “I’m gonna need your help. I can’t sleep through my alarm, okay? The professor said tomorrow’s class is an important one. Midterms are right around the corner, and I can’t take the liberty of failing them.”

“That won’t happen,” he assures you, and you believe him. “I can be of help, don’t worry. You won’t oversleep.”

Oh, Logan. Sweet, lying Logan.

Turns out you ended up oversleeping. Twenty-five years on this earth, and you still haven’t learned not to trust a man, even if his puppy-dog eyes silently beg you to do otherwise. The thing is—you love them. You love men. And you’re especially fond of the one currently sleeping in your bed.

The first rays of sunshine hit your face, waking you up. You attempt to raise a hand to shield your eyes, but moving any limbs feels like a Herculean task. A warm body is pressed against your back, one veiny arm draped over your stomach. Logan remains fast asleep behind you, his steady breathing succeeding in making you feel at ease. You reach back, running your fingers through his messy hair, and he grumbles in his sleep, instinctively pulling you closer.

What a nice, domestic morning. Yep, you’re getting used to this. And nope, you don’t regret it, not even in the slightest bit.

Though there must be a mistake, because you’re preeeeetty sure you had something important to do. 

Oh. You have classes. Had—past tense.

You reach for your nightstand, blindly groping for your phone. The charger is lying on the floor, the plastic of it all damaged. Perhaps Earnest had chewed on it while you were sleeping? You gently pry Logan’s arm off you, sitting up, and your bleary eyes land on something barely peeking out from under the bed.

It’s your fucking phone. The screen is completely shattered, with three distinct holes in the middle of it. Three holes, how strange! You can’t help but wonder who might have left them. Clutching your pillow, you whack Logan in the face with it. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!”

He groans, trying to take the pillow away from you. “What the fuck is wrong with you, kid?”

“I wish I had a UNO reverse card because I should be the one asking you that!” you jab your finger into his chest, showing him the ruined phone. “You broke my fucking phone!”

“What?” he asks, voice laden with sleep, still disoriented. He holds the phone, carefully scrutinizing it. “I think I don’t know how to hit the snooze button.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I believe you’ve made that very clear,” you huff, tossing the phone aside as you flop back onto the mattress. The clock on your nightstand says 11:05 am, and you cover your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. “Next time, when it goes off, just wake me up and I’ll do it.”

Logan settles beside you, resting his head on his forearm as he watches you. “I’m sorry, bub. I’ll get you a new one.”

“It’s fine,” you murmur, sighing. This is your free ticket to be a menace. “I should’ve known dinosaurs and phones would never get along. My bad, pal.”

You don’t even get to see his reaction because he starts tickling you, the room filling with your laughter. Squealing, you try to wriggle away, but his fingers dig into your ribs, expertly finding your most ticklish spots. Your giggles escalate into breathless laughter, your eyes squeezed shut as you desperately attempt to push him away. He’s relentless, chuckling when his own laughter bubbles up. 

“L-logan, stop!” you gasp between fits of laughter, aiming to grasp his hands.

“We dinosaurs love tickling people. Sorry, sweetheart,” he manhandles you until you’re perched on his lap, fisting the fabric of your (his) shirt. Leaning forward, he captures your mouth in a heated kiss. “I’m sorry about the phone,” he slurs the words against your cheek, his lips trailing down to your neck. You tell him that it’s okay, trying to find a comfortable position on top of him, and that’s when his thigh presses against your core, your eyes widening at the unexpected sensation. Logan’s no fool, noticing the way your breath hitches. “What’s wrong, baby? You woke up needy?”

“No, I just—” you trail off as he does it again, his strong thigh coming in contact with your clothed cunt. You search for leverage by placing your hands on his shoulders, glancing at him. “Logan.”

“I’m all ears,” he rests his back against the headboard, the tent in his boxers impossible to ignore. “You want to get off on my thigh,” he states with certainty. It’s not a question—it’s a full-on statement. He knows what you want, what you crave. “Come on then. Grind against it.”

You do as he says, not caring to think twice. You start moving, rubbing your wet pussy against his muscular thigh. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and soon, you’re whimpering his name, your hands trailing down his abs. Why hadn’t you tried this before? It feels fucking amazing.

From his position, Logan stares at you, his lips slightly parted, eyes clouded with lust. Your arousal drenches your panties, soaking through them, the fabric clinging to his coarse leg hair. He glances down at the mess you’re making, his grin widening as he takes in the sight. “Goddamn, woman. I’m gonna make you clean it off, I swear to God.”

“Need your help,” you whisper, lowering your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. The coil tightening inside you is almost unbearable. A kiss is what you lean in for, desperate for more, though Logan appears to have other plans. He fists your hair, pulling at your nape and yanking your head back. The roughness of the movement pulls a moan from your lips, your mouth parched like a desert. 

“Eyes up here, okay? You look at me when I make you come,” his raspy voice makes you feel tingly, each word sending shivers down your spine. His hands fiercely grab the flesh of your hips, guiding you, helping you grind harder against his thigh. You think you’re on the verge of drooling when you catch the way his abdomen flexes, working to push you toward that long-awaited release. “That’s it, there you go,” he rasps, relishing the sounds he’s eliciting from you, each of your gasps feeding his desire.

Time slows as the warmth in your belly finally erupts, your eyes fighting to stay open through the aftershocks of your orgasm. No actual words leave your mouth, just a string of whines and moans, some carrying Logan’s name. He swallows every single sound you make, everything you give him, grunting as your legs tremble and shake atop him.

He lets you collapse onto your back, your breathing gradually evening out. “I think I saw fireworks behind my lids,” you confess, your mouth dry, expecting Logan to flop onto the mattress beside you. But he doesn’t. Through your blurry vision, you contemplate as he positions himself between your parted legs, getting dangerously close to your cunt. “Logan, what are you— Oh, fuck,” you moan mid-sentence when you feel him pulling your panties aside to lick a slow strip through your folds, collecting your arousal. He points his tongue, dipping it into your entrance, and you wince, squirming. “Santa Claus, is that you?”

Logan grins against you, closing his mouth around clit for a moment. He then shifts until he’s eye-to-eye with you, two of his fingers sliding into you in one smooth motion. “Give me another one,” he murmurs, his other hand slipping under your shirt to play with your nipples, pinching them. 

You never imagined two fingers could bring such intense pleasure. You just lie there, taking it like a good girl, as Logan sometimes call you. “Please, I need you,” you cry out, your fingernails scraping against his torso.

“I know, darlin’. I’m right here,” he rasps against your temple, moving his fingers in and out of you with more enthusiasm. But what he doesn’t understand is that you need all of him. Your hands itch to touch him, to feel the weight of his cock. The corners of his mouth turn up as he watches you struggle to find words. “Wish you could see yourself like this. Such a pretty girl, so gorgeous like this,” his fingers keep grazing that bundle of joy deep inside you, and he goes in for a kiss, the sour taste of your slick invading your taste buds. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever had. Need to stretch you real good before fucking you with my cock.”

Bingo! That last sentence does it for you, and you come for the second time in the morning, your cunt clenching and spasming around his fingers. You hide your face in his neck, mouthing at his Adam’s apple. He hasn’t trimmed his beard in days, and it shows because you can now feel a burning sensation on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“You’re allowed to break all my phones from now on,” you suggest, only to hear Logan’s laughter in your ear. He snakes a hand through your hair, shoving it back away from your face. You feel him kiss your sweaty forehead, and as you press yourself closer to his body, something hard nudges your hipbone.

Absentmindedly, you trace the waistband of his boxers with your index finger, your eyes snapping to his face. Logan freezes on the spot, and it’s almost as if he’s stopped breathing. Without a word, he rises from the bed, his movements sudden and almost mechanical. You watch him, puzzled, as he heads toward the bathroom, the intimacy of just moments ago being abruptly replaced by a dreadful silence.

“Logan, is everything okay? Do you need something?” you ask and he pauses at the bathroom door, his back to you. For a brief second, you think he might actually open up, but when he turns around, his expression is neutral, masking whatever thoughts are running through his mind. At last, he flashes you a quick smile.

“I’m fine,” he says, his tone gentle but distant. “Just gonna take a shower. Then we can have breakfast together, right?”

You nod, his words easing the growing sense of frustration gnawing at you. He disappears into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon follows. You sink back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You take your pillow and bury your face in it, letting out a muffled groan. There’s something he isn't telling you, something hidden deep beneath his usual gruff exterior. Although you try to piece together the fragments of his behavior, they don’t quite fit.

The minutes drag on, and the sound of the shower becomes a distant, constant background noise. You close your eyes, visualizing your happy place, but your thoughts keep spiraling. All you can do is wait—wait for him to come back and act as if nothing had happened.

Logan’s right there, just a few feet away—yet in moments like these, he feels miles apart. It’s one of those days in which, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to bridge that distance. 

It had all started with you asking Logan “Have you ever watched (500) Days of Summer?”

Of course, he had refused to watch the movie at first, and of course, you had threatened him with phoning Wade to let him know that Logan wanted to have a sleepover. That had done the trick.

You had asked for a day off at the bar, and surprisingly, your boss hadn’t objected. That turn of events led to this moment: sprawled out on the couch with Logan, the two of you watching the final minutes of your favorite film. Logan takes a long drag of his cigar, eyes trained intently on the screen. He’s only wearing sweatpants, which had caused your attention to drift from the plot a few times. The fact that you managed to sit through the entire movie without needing to pause it makes you feel particularly invincible.

Hey.

You again.

Yeah. I, uh, was just wondering if maybe after this, if, um, you— you want to get some coffee or something.

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sort of supposed to meet someone after this.

Okay.

“That poor fella,” Logan murmurs, taking a slow sip of his beer. You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, a contented smile playing on your lips. His fingers absently stroke your hair.

“Just wait,” you say, pointing to the screen of your laptop.

Sure.

What’s that?

Why not?

Okay. Well, then I’ll just, uh— I’ll wait for you.

We— we’ll figure it out.

We’ll figure it out.

“They’ll figure it out!” you exclaim, but Logan quickly shushes you, his attention unwavering.

My name’s Tom.

Nice to meet you. I’m Autumn.

When the movie comes to an end, you’re met with Joseph Gordon-Levitt breaking the fourth wall, staring straight at the audience as if he knows he’s about to get himself into a mess with another girl named after a season. You sit up, your eyes eagerly searching for Logan’s. “So? Did you like it? I’ve watched it seven times now. Can’t understand how it gets better each time.”

Logan closes his mouth around his cigar, inhaling deeply before answering. “Yeah, it was pretty good,” he says, his hand finding your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Summer’s a bitch, though.”

“I respectfully disagree,” you tell him, grabbing his beer and giving it a try, only to grimace at the taste. Shuddering, you set it back down. “Why don’t you like her character?”

“Well, for starters, she did Tom dirty. Played with him like he was a damn rag doll.”

You raise an eyebrow, hugging a cushion closer to your chest as you lean back into the couch. “He knew from the beginning she didn’t want to be his girlfriend. Summer was clear—Tom just though he was smart enough to change her mind.”

“They acted like boyfriend and girlfriend the whole movie,” he scorns, placing his cigar down into the ashtray with a bit more force than necessary.

Is your first argument going to be over a movie? Exciting.

“Logan, they weren’t even official.”

“But she made it seem like they were,” he insists, the frustration in his voice growing.

“They were in a situationship—the perfect example, really. That’s not the same as being a couple.”

His gaze dips to the floor, brows knitted in a deep frown. “I think you’re relying on the technicality that they never used those titles. I mean, they did everything together. Isn’t that what normal couples do?”

Lord have mercy.

“Logan, who am I to you?” you inquire, crossing your arms over your chest.

He hesitates, narrowing his eyes, the question clearly catching him off guard. “You are—what? I don’t understand. Is this some kind of mind game you’re playing?”

“It’s actually very simple: if someone were to ask you about me, what would you say? Am I a friend? A bartender?” you inch forward, holding your breath, your tone faltering slightly. Meanwhile, Logan’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. “A fling? Your girlfriend? You complain so much about Summer, yet you can’t even name what we have.”

The living room falls into a heavy silence. Logan blinks slowly, his forehead creasing as he processes your words. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because these are the kinds of conversations we need to have. I understand you don’t want to have them, but I do.”

“Fine. Then tell me what it is that you want,” he asks, his mouth snapping shut when he sees you snorting in response.

“I don’t— I don’t know! To know how you feel, if possible?” you stand up from the couch, taking the cushion with you. You grind your jaw, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Why is it that every time I try to touch you, you push me away?”

He scrunches up his face, mirroring your movements and rising from his seat. “Bub, can we please talk about this tomorrow—”

“No! You don’t get to make all the choices, that’s not fair. Deciphering you isn’t easy, Logan. I’m not asking you to tell me everything you’ve been through. I just wish I could know how you feel about me. I can’t stand in front of you and pretend I don’t mind where this is going, because I’m more than sure I’m falling in love with you. “

“You can’t. You shouldn’t,” he says, his expression hardening. He turns his back to you, running his hands over his face in frustration before heading to the kitchen.

“Well, what were you expecting?” you follow him into the kitchen, finding Earnest on top of the fridge, beholding the scene with a curious gaze. “You basically moved in here, gave me a free trial of what life with you might be like, and now you have the audacity to appear surprised when I tell you I’ve caught feelings?” salty tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you spread your arms wide in exasperation. “Oh, but you’re right. How could I’ve been this stupid, to fall for the damned Wolverine!” you laugh bitterly, expecting him to break eye contact, but he doesn’t. “You think you’re so bad, so broken. Guess what: you’re not, because I love you, and I couldn’t care less about your past. You may think you’re unlovable, but you’re not, you hear me?”

For a heartbeat, the world seems to pause. And so he says:

“You are the most exasperating person I know.”

“Wow. Thank you so much!” you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You run a hand through your hair, infuriated. “That makes me feel better!”

“Let me do the talking now,” he says, taking long strides toward you, and the proximity makes you lower your head. “You’re not getting the final say today. Just because I’m not over-sharing my feelings all the time doesn’t mean I don’t have them! In fact, I do. I may not express them openly, but they exist. And I wish you could see inside my head! You’d be delighted at how much time I spend thinking about you,” you cackle at his words, rolling your eyes. His fingers grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “There hasn’t been a single moment since the day we met that I have stopped wanting you. Your voice is like a goddamn radio that, no matter what I do, I can’t turn off. It’s like I’m infected by you, and I hate it!” his eyes burn with a mix of anger and affectionpur, his pursed lips softening as he continues. “No good ever comes from caring this much about someone. So excuse me for being scared of ruining the only good thing that’s happened to me in years!”

You hit him with the cushion—not with enough force to make him hurt, but enough to make a point.

“Drop it, kid.”

“I’m—” you hit him again, “not—” and again, “stupid. I know what I’m getting myself into,” as you attempt to raise the cushion once more, Logan takes it from your hands, throwing it on the counter. Your shoulders sag, trying to find the strength to keep going. “And I know for a fact,” you add, glancing at his conflicted eyes, “that the easiest thing for me would be to walk away from you, but I can’t. It’s too fucking late.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do! These are my feelings, okay? Mine, not yours. You don’t have the right to decide who I love and who I don’t.”

Logan’s eyes squint, scanning your face. “You’re… obnoxious.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“And I—I love you,” he confesses, his nostrils flaring with emotion. Opening your mouth to say something, you close it moments later, your gaze locked on his. “You could take what you said, pretend as if I didn’t exist, and I wouldn’t say a thing, y’understand? I would move cities if you asked me, because I love you that fucking much, and I want you to be happy.”

You reach for his hand, briefly intertwining your fingers with his. Looking at him through your eyelashes, you rub your fingers over his stubble. “And what if my happiness comes from being with you?”

Logan lets out a harsh breath, his arm curling around your waist, pressing his chest to yours. “I can’t promise I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. I’ll probably makeplenty of mistakes.”

“Fine with me.”

“And you’ll be mad at me. A lot.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure it’s mutual.”

Both of you laugh then, and you’re taken aback when he brushes his nose against your cheek, silently seeking permission to kiss you. His lips move hungrily against yours, trailing his hands down your spine, pulling you closer. He breaks the kiss and laughs at your eagerness when you chase after his mouth. You end up perched on his lap as he settles into one of your kitchen chairs. Logan stares into your eyes, his gaze drifting lower. “I won’t push you away this time. Not anymore.”

That’s your cue to finally do what you’ve been yearning for weeks. You fall to your knees in front of him, shaky fingers that graze the hairs on his happy trail. The bulge in his sweatpants is close to your face, and your mouth waters at the thought of having him between your lips. “Can I?” you ask, your voice a touch higher. 

He draws a long breath, tilting his head slightly. “You may, baby.”

You pull at his sweatpants and boxers, sliding them down his legs just enough to free his hard cock. As you take a look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, the sight overwhelming. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips, that musky scent of his hitting you.

A whimper escapes you, and Logan hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, darlin’. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he cants his hips up, causing your movements to stutter. “You can take a bit more, can’t you?” his question ends with a guttural grunt, his fingers tightening on your hair. “Gotta show me how much you want this.”

Logan takes all that you give him. You lower your head further, taking in another inch of him. Sex’s supposed to feel good, but this? It feels even greater. And he’s not even inside you yet, you hear a voice murmur in your head. The hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you sneak a hand between your bodies, grasping him by the base. You swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair..

“Thaaaat’s it, honey. Just like that, want you to choke on it,” he grumbles, running his mouth just the way you like. The tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat and tears fill your eyes. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure. Logan’s gaze is intense, and he stares into your soul, his chest heaving. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Dick got your tongue?”

You’ll definitely get back to that joke later.

“Will you—can you—”

“Come on, beautiful. I don’t have all day.”

God, you love it when he’s mean.

“Fuck my throat,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

A smile dangles on the corner of his lips. “We both know you can be nicer.”

The fucker makes your pulse race. “Can you fuck my throat?” you ask again, more insistently. “Please.”

He guides himself into your mouth, smirking as he watches how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “How polite of you to say please. Some good manners you’ve got.”

You whimper around him, your body responding to the rhythm he sets, fully immersed in the intensity of the moment. And for a while, you drift away, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. It’s almost impossible not to compare him to your past hookups. You try to recall at least a single instance when another man made you feel this way, but no memory surfaces.

Time seems to stretch and warp. You don’t really know when it happens—he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, examining you. “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with that sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. Defeated, Logan shakes his head, pressing his finger against your tongue. “I was planning on coming on your mouth, but I think I’ve got a better idea.”

In the blink of an eye, you’re in your bedroom. Not even a metaphor—he picks you up and basically runs to your room, closing the door behind him. You prop yourself on your forearms, trying to process what’s about to happen. Logan, already naked, climbs onto the bed after you, He kisses you slowly, tracing the curves of your body. “You still want this?”

“I do. I’m just… nervous, that’s all,” you admit, flashing him a quick smile. “It’s been two years of celibacy for me. Will it fit?” you ask, glancing down at his cock, and Logan stares at you in confusion. “Also, how many girlfriends have you had? Just curious.”

“I don’t think this is the time for that conversation.”

“You’re right,” you agree, lying back on the mattress, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Were they pretty?”

“Bub.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” he replies with a smirk. “Focus on me, okay?”

Despite your tries to crack jokes at the worst possible moment, things escalate pretty quickly. Logan’s got three fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. He’s already made you come once with his mouth—to get you more relaxed, he had said. Wanting sounds slip past your lips as he doesn’t miss the chance to hit that spot that makes you squeeze your legs together. The tip of his nose drags long lines up and down the skin of your neck, mouthing at your jaw.

“I’m ready,” you mumble after some minutes, reaching for his cock and stroking him. “Let’s break the bed.”

“You’re lucky you’re this cute,” he says, catching your lips in a kiss. “Condom?”

“Negative, Sergeant.”

“You don’t have any?”

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want you to use one.”

The way his gaze darkens doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand guides your face toward his cock. “Get me wet,” he commands, and you oblige, sucking him into your mouth. You hum around him, unable to contain yourself, and you hear Logan chuckling above you. “Can’t believe this is what it takes for you to shut up. Gotta keep your mouth full all the time.”

Once he’s satisfied with the way you’ve slicked him, he positions himself over you, caging you between his arms. Logan pins you down with his body, his hot breath mingling with yours. When you stare into his eyes, all you see is pure love, and your heart swells with affection. “Will you fuck the bad jokes out of me?”

Logan laughs, rubbing his length along your folds, grazing your clit for a fleeting second. “I sure as hell will,” he assures you, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks into your eyes for approval. “Ready?”

“I was born rea— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head breaches you, your eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. “Fucking mutant dick.”

“You’ll love it, believe me,” he husks next to your ear. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. Logan pulls out, and then fucks into you with a little more force.  “How are you still so tight? You’re killin’ me here.”

“I’ve got no idea, but you feel—amazing,” you gasp, latching onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. “Oh, god. I can feel you in my stomach.”

“I know, baby, I know. Can feel it too,” he curls one of his hands around your throat, keeping you in place. From his position, he can watch the way your face contorts in pleasure. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips, he sucks hard. “You were desperate enough to get on your knees in the damn kitchen. You’ll be good now too, am I right?”

“Yes. Yes. I can be good,” you pant, eyes wide and pleading. “Anything you want. Just don’t stop.”

“I’m not stoppin’, princess. Don’t worry,” his mouth curves into a wicked grin as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. His hand on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make you feel the pressure, grounding you in the moment. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs against your chest, his voice laden with need. 

Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Logan’s grip on your neck loosens as his hand slides down to grasp your hip. He squeezes your tender flesh, pulling you harder against him, as if he can’t get close enough. The bed creaks under the intensity, but you barely notice, too far lost in the rhythm of his movements.

“You’re perfect, all I’ve ever wanted,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” you hear him repeat, more to himself than to you, his voice stranded as he tries to hold himself back, letting you chase your own release first.

The pressure inside you builds up, tightening with every skilled flick of his fingers. You’re sure you must look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, though the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Logan, I’m—” you croak, the wind being knocked out of your lungs with each relentless thrust. “I think I’m gonna come.”

He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you, let go for me. I’ll take care of you, baby, I swear,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall. Your body obeys him, a shuddering release tearing through you, moaning Logan’s name and gripping him like a vice. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, driving you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, contemplating how wrecked you look. “Tell me where—please, sweetheart.”

“Inside.”

“What?”

“I said inside. Come inside me, Logan.”

He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. Logan buries himself to the hilt, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls with his thick seed. Beside your head, his claws unsheate, tearing into the pillow. He ruts against you, his body trembling and writhing against yours, already apologizing for the pillow incident while pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m sorry. That hasn’t happened in a while.”

When Logan collapses beside you, he pulls you into his arms, kissing you eagerly. You return the kiss, wincing as you feel a bit of his cum slip out of you, rolling down your thighs. He stares at your glistening cunt without an ounce of remorse, and you close your legs. “That’s private.”

“It wasn’t very private a minute ago.”

“Logan?”

“Tell me, bub.”

“Knock, knock.”

He must truly love you, because he plays along: “Who’s there?”

“Ice cream.”

“Ice cream who?”

“Ice cream for you all night long.”

“Guess I didn’t succeed in fuckin’ the bad jokes out of you,” he teases softly, letting his head fall back on the bed. “But it’s fine. I’ll just have to keep tryin’.”

This is the story of how you end up dating a man who’s two hundred years old. But it’s also the story of how that same man learns to let his guard down and open his heart. So, remember this, kids: the sky’s the limit, especially when it comes to love—and yes, even when it involves dating mutants.

dividers by: @cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[thewritingrowlet]

The Determined Wife, ft. Red Velvet Irene

tags: creampie, anal, breeding, daddy kink

word count: 6k+

author's note: well, here's the continuation of The Loving Wife—I hope you like this one

p.s. I want to write about Isa or Seeun next; I hope I have ideas for that.

“Hngh? Huh?”, you mumble as your brain kick-starts your body on a brand-new day. As the rest of your consciousness returns to you, you feel weight on the left side of your body. “Who?”, you take a sniff, “oh, Irene”. After getting a grip on the time and day, you close your eyes to get back to sleep. That is, until you feel Irene poking your cheek. “Good morning, my love”, you greet her with closed eyes. “Good morning, honey”, Irene yawns audibly, “do you have work today?”. You tighten your arms around her, “let’s not start our day like that”. “How do you want to start, then?”, she asks, letting out another yawn after, “do you want to breed me first thing in the morning?”. “God, not this breeding thing again”, you think to yourself, “love, are you that serious about getting pregnant?”. You feel Irene rubbing her face against your chest, “I want to have your child—our child”.

You get on top of your wife and hover closely above her face while your hands are planted on either side of her face, “how badly do you want it?”. In the dark, you see Irene smile warmly, “I want it so fucking bad; I want to make you happy”. You clap your hands twice to turn on the lights—God bless modern technology. “Love, you know I’m happy with what we have. I don’t want to burden you with a child—not to mention that you also have a career to pursue”, you try to reason with her. Irene furrows her eyebrows in anger, dissatisfied by your words, “if you use my career against me one more time, I’m leaving you”. You pull her into a sitting position in front of you, “honey, please; I didn’t mean it like that. Surely you know what I’m getting at”. Irene frees her wrists from your grip and crosses her arms, her gaze straying away from yours, “I don’t want to talk to you today. You can go to work if you want to”.

Irene’s behavior leaves you no choice but to give her some space and hope that time will help her come to reason. “I love you, honey”, you dare say, and a part of you expects a slap on the cheek. Seeing that you’re not getting a response from Irene, you get off the bed and get ready for the day ahead. Since you don’t have eyes on your nape, you can’t see that Irene sheds a tear as she feels rejected by you, the person she can’t live without—the love of her life.

-

“Good morning, boss!”, Miss Park greets you excitedly as soon as you enter the company building. “Hi, hello. Good morning”, you return her greeting and shake her hand. “You look like you have a lot of things going on right now”, she comments. You let out a heavy sigh, “I do, actually; had a little disagreement with my wife, and she said she wouldn’t talk to me for the rest of the day”. “Ah, sorry about that, boss”, Miss Park, not expecting such answer, clears her throat to cope with the awkwardness, “anyway, you don’t have much today, sir; just proposals and other paperwork to read and sign”. “Thank you, Miss Park”, you part ways with her in front of the elevator that leads to your office.

You start your routine of hanging your suit jacket on the headrest of your chair and waking up your computer from its slumber. “That’s a lot of emails—how are there 22, man?”, you eye the list of unread emails on your screen, and you see that some of them are paid leave applications that are pending your approval.

When you started your company, you made a commitment to approve such applications without questions and encourage department heads under your command to follow suit. It’s not like it’s a complicated process, anyway; one just needs to fill out a form they can get from HR, ask their manager and head of department to sign it, and then wait for your approval. Such simple steps are set in place to make sure that employees can take a leave in a timely manner—no need to be kneeling and begging for this. Combined with the rules the company has set, you’ve seen reports from employees saying that they’re satisfied with your system.

“Oh, his child is hospitalized; I should visit them later”, you comment as you see an application from a certain Mr. Lee Minhyung from the marketing department. “That’s one down; a few more to go”. You click on the arrow to go to the next email, one from Miss Kim Minjeong, “wait, that’s Mr. Lee’s wife, no?”. Of course you remember; HR notified you by letter and asked you to fire one of them when they learned that they were a married couple.

You read the content of the email, and obviously, she’s also applying for a paid leave; it’s their child who is hospitalized. “Yeah, easy”, you apply your digital signature on the letter as a sign of approval, just like you did with her husband’s. As you’re moving your cursor to go to the next, you wonder what it’s like to have a child, and importantly, what it’s like to be in a crisis involving your child. “I wonder if Irene is ready for such situations”, you sigh, “why are you so determined to have a child, my love?”.

-

“Miss Park, tell Mr. Oh to put the parcel in the car; I’m coming down in a bit”, you say to your secretary over the phone. After getting an answer from her, you put on your jacket and walk out of your office, towards the elevator.

You see a handful of heads of departments on your way down, as they take the same elevator you are. “Any news, ladies and gentlemen?”, you ask. “My son is getting married next week, director—you’re invited to the wedding, by the way”, Mr. Shim, head of IT, shares the good news with you. You shake his hand firmly, “congratulations, Mr. Shim. Send me the details and I’ll be there”.

The rest of your conversations with them are cut short when the elevator stops and opens on the bottom floor, indicating your time to leave. “I’m going to visit someone’s child at the hospital; I’ll see you later”, you exchange goodbyes with the crowd and turn around towards Mr. Oh and Miss Park who are already waiting for you next to your car.

“Is everything in there?”, you ask Miss Park. “Yes, sir. Would you like to be driven for?”, she asks. You shake your head, “no, but I want you to come with me; I’ll need help carrying these stuff—c’mon, let’s go”. You get in your car with Miss Park and drive to the hospital, where the child is hospitalized.

“Excuse me, director”, Miss Park starts a conversation as the two of you wait at the red light, “I know this is presumptuous of me, but can I ask what’s happening between you and your wife?”. “She wants to have a child, Miss Park—that’s all you need to know”, you explain briefly, “why?”. Miss Park pulls out a small envelope from her jacket, “your wife stopped by earlier and gave me this”. You take the envelope from her hands and put it in your pocket, “thanks, I’ll see what this is about later”.

-

You walk with Miss Park towards the child’s room with your hands full of stuff. You’re carrying a basket of fruits in one hand and a box of pudding in the other, while Miss Park is carrying some food for the parents. “Knock on the door, Miss Park. My hands are full”, you gesture to her with your head. Miss Park knocks three times, and not long after, the door swings open. “Director! Miss Park!”, Mr. Lee exclaims, “wha-what are you doing here?”. “Hi there”, you smile, “oh, y’know, just wanted to see your son; maybe I can lift his spirits or something”.

Mr. Lee welcomes you in, and you immediately make eye contact with the boy lying in bed. “Hey, bud. How are you feeling?”, you show him a friendly side of you. He smiles weakly and tells you that he’s feeling better compared to yesterday. “That’s great to hear”, you show him the bag with the pudding in it, “I have some pudding for you, buddy—ask your mom to cut it for you, okay?”. The boy giggles in excitement, and you feel a surge of warmth that you don’t think you’ve felt before.

You grab a chair and sit next to him after handing the stuff to Mr. Lee and his wife. “Hey, buddy”, you gently rub the back of his hand that’s not connected to the IV drip, “what happened to you?”. “I remember feeling weak and blacking out at school, but I don’t remember anything else, sir”, he recalls. “You must’ve been so tired after studying so hard, haven’t you?”, you look over your shoulder and see that Mr. Lee and his wife are smiling at you, seemingly in approval of your actions, “your parents must be proud of you, bud; you look like someone who works hard for school”. The boy beams, and he decides to brag about his grades, “I got a 90 on my last math test, sir!”. You chuckle out loud and pet his head gently, “oi, great job, you! Hey, guess what: I’ll buy you some shoes to wear to school after you leave this place—how does that sound, buddy?”.

You leave the boy’s side after getting a high five from him, and it is now time to speak with his parents. Mr. Lee shakes your hand, “thank you so much, director. About my work—“. You cut Mr. Lee off with a pause gesture, “please, let’s not worry about that right now; I’m not here to talk about your work. Your son is more important than any work, Mr. Lee”. He smiles and bows in gratefulness, “thank you so much, director. I promise I will always work hard”. You pat him on the back while laughing, “you like making me get richer, don’t you, Mr. Lee?”.

When you turn your attention to Miss Kim, she bows in respect. “Thank you for visiting, Mr. Director. It means a lot to us”, she says. It must be true that it only uses two muscles to smile, because you’re not tired of smiling—not even in the slightest. “I’m just trying to help the both of you—ah, can I address the both of you casually? We’re not at the office, are we?”, you say to Miss Kim and her husband. Miss Kim nods, “of course you can, director. Feel free to call us by name”.

You grab the bag of food from the table and hand it to them, “I don’t know if you’ve eaten yet, but if you haven’t, please eat now; I have some sandwich for both of you. Miss Park will keep an eye on your son”. Mr. Kim and his wife say goodbye to their son and tell him that Miss Park will stay with him while they eat, getting a nod in response. “Can we talk while you eat, actually?”, you say to them, and they nod at you, “follow me outside, please”.

You sit on the sofa near the nurses’ station with the couple. “I have some questions if you don’t mind, Minhyung-ah”, you initiate the conversation. “Of course, director. Ask away”, he says. You start by explaining your situation first, “here’s the thing, my wife has been begging me to make her pregnant, and admittedly, I’ve been rejecting her request because she has quite the career and I don’t want her to just throw it away, considering how long it has taken her to build it”. Mr. Lee and Miss Kim look at each other before turning back to you, “I’m guessing you’re curious what it’s like to have a child, especially as a working couple”. “That’s spot-on, Minhyung-ah”, you give him a thumbs-up, “so, can you tell me?”.

“I’ll start first—y’know, as a dad and all that”, Mr. Lee takes a deep breath before sharing his perspective, “personally, director, we were also concerned about our careers at first, but having a child has been the greatest thing in our lives”. Truthfully, you’re surprised to hear such an answer, but before you make any judgment, you ask Miss Kim to share her thoughts first. “I agree with my husband, Mr. Director”, Miss Kim says, “I must say, though, seeing your child get sick hurts so damn bad—this isn’t the first time Daeyoung-ie has been hospitalized, and seeing him lie in bed like that hurts so, so much”. You want to open your mouth, but Miss Kim isn’t done talking just yet. “I can’t explain it but love for your child isn’t similar to love for your spouse, director—something about being willing to do anything for your child isn’t comparable to anything else”, she piles on.

You stay silent as you try to process everything you just heard. “That’s quite the answer, actually”, you rub your chin, “I’ll talk with my wife about it, I guess”. Mr. Lee glances at his wife quickly before turning back to you, “I don’t know about you, director, but the process of making a child is very, uh, fun”. You chuckle out loud, and you see that Miss Kim is smacking her husband while blushing. “I’m sure it is, Minhyung-ah—I mean, look at you: clearly you had fun”, you shake your head in amusement, “alright, Miss Park and I will be leaving after this. I’ll keep my promise and buy your son some new shoes after he’s out of this place, but you’ll need to remind me”.

-

Irene’s Genesis is parked at its usual spot in front of your house, and you feel excited to talk with her about getting her pregnant. You get out of the car after parking it next to hers and run straight to the house. “I’m ho—what the fuck!?”, you see Irene lying on the carpet in front of the TV with nothing but bra and panties on. “Irene? Love?”, you slap her cheeks gently but rapidly to get her to open her eyes, “honey, wake up, please”. You look around the house for signs of what has happened, and you see a tall bottle of whiskey that is almost empty sitting on the table in front of the sofa—no shot glass means that she must’ve drunk it straight from the bottle.

“I… hate you…”, Irene says weakly, her eyelids too heavy to open, “s-stay away f-from me”. Not the best thing you could hear right now, but you’re glad that she’s okay, just drunk—verydrunk. “Let’s move you to the bedroom, okay?”, you carry her bridal style—it reminds you of your first day of being married, actually—and walk towards the bedroom. “P-put me down, y-you bastard”, Irene wiggles around, attempting to free herself from your arms, “I-I’m calling the police if-if you don’t put me down”. Irene has never been this drunk before, and honestly, you don’t know how to take care of her in this state—doesn’t mean you won’t try, though.

You place her on the floor momentarily while you grab a blanket and spread it on the bed. You pick up your wife from the floor and put her in the middle of the blanket and wrap her body with it, just in case she loses control of her actions and starts throwing punches or kicks. “W-what are you doing to me, you asshole—let me go!”, Irene tries to free herself from the blanket burrito, but since she’s very drunk, she’s not strong enough to do anything other than to run her mouth. “Love, it’s me”, you softly say to her, “you’re very drunk, aren’t you, baby?”. “Heheheheh”, Irene laughs, seemingly mocking you, “me? drunk? I’m on cloud nine right now, baby—had to-to take care of myself since my husband wouldn’t”.

Her words sound particularly painful to you right now. You went from feeling excited about talking to her about having a child, to feeling sad about the sight in front of you, and you feel powerless to do anything but let tears run down your cheeks. “Alcohol brings out the best of us, doesn’t it, love?”, you wipe your tears, hoping that doing so will help you calm down faster, “I guess this is how we wrap things up today”.

-

In your peaceful sleep, you’re shown glimpses of what having a child would be like. First, you’re shown a projection of Irene with a big belly; “we have a child, love! I’m so happy to have a child!”, she says. You really want to keep watching this clip, but your brain wants to move on to the next, which is one where Irene is doing tiny jumps while holding your baby, who is wrapped in a small blanket; “who is my good boy, hm? Who is my lovely, handsome boy?”. Like before, your brain quickly moves on to the next part of your dreams. You’re shown images in quick succession of your child taking his first steps, going to school for his first day, and finally, the moment where he makes a vow to never stop loving his wife, and to continue to be with her until death do them part—the speed makes it almost feels like someone is holding down the right arrow key during a PowerPoint presentation.

As soon as the presentation finishes, you’re stirred awake by your brain, as if telling you to start working on making it into reality. Your ability to vividly remember dreams isn’t always helpful because you can indeed remember everything, no matter how scary or joyful it is. “I had a dream, baby”, you say in a soft voice to Irene, who is still wrapped in a blanket, “I saw what it’d be like if we had a child—it was such a beautiful dream, my love”. You rub her exposed cheeks gently as you narrate the rest of your dream to your wife.

“Ah, I’m sorry for disturbing your sleep, love. I’ll go back to sleep now—good morning, by the way”, you say to her as you close your eyes and get ready to get back to sleep. “Wait!”, Irene exclaims in a tiny voice, taking you by surprise, “wait, don’t go back to sleep yet”. You lift your head off your pillow and take a good look at your wife. “Are you alright, love?”, you ask her, trying to gauge her mood. With how limited her mobility is in the burrito, Irene can only shake her head. “N-no, I’m not”, she starts tearing up, “p-please hold me in your arms”.

You unwrap the blanket and hold Irene in a tight embrace. “I’m sorry about the blanket, love. I was just concerned about you punching or kicking me while being drunk”, you spray pecks on her head as a gesture of apology. “I’m sorry—fuck, I’m so sorry”, Irene apologizes as tears start freely flowing out of her eyes, “I-I didn’t have anyone to talk to, s-so I resorted to drinking—please forgive me, my love”. Since Irene is in the mood for apologies, you decide to follow it up with one of yours; “I got your letter yesterday, love. I understand what you were saying, and I’m sorry for not calling you or saying anything back”. Irene shakes her head, “n-no, it-it’s okay, I understand. I-I was just so fucking desperate to do something, s-so I decided to write you a letter”.

As soon as Irene stops crying, you move on to the next subject, which is your little trip to the hospital to visit your employee’s son. “Love, I visited someone’s son at the hospital yesterday”, you say to her, “he fainted at school and was taken to the hospital after that”. “Oh, poor boy”, Irene comments, showing empathy, “so, what then?”. You tell her that you and Miss Park brought some stuff for the boy and his parents; “I also promised him that I’d buy him some new shoes to wear to school”. Irene pecks your cheek as a sign of approval of your actions, “good thinking, my love”.

“Not just that, though”, you pile on, “I also asked the parents what it was like to see their son lie in bed sick like that”. “Yeah? What did they say?”, she asks. You take a deep breath first, “they said that it’s such a painful sight—this wasn’t the first time the boy had been hospitalized, by the way”. Irene can sense that something else is coming from you, so she urges you to keep going. “I just kept thinking about whether you’d be ready for such thing, should it happen to us and our child”.

Irene holds your hands tightly and rubs the back of them gently. “I’ll need you to be with me every step of the way. If I have you next to me, I’ll face anything head on”, she says. You put on an assuring smile, “of course I’ll be there with you, love. It’s not like I have anywhere else to go, is it?”.

Irene gathers her strength and mounts your body, “does that mean you’ll be breeding me? That’s what you’re getting at, isn’t it?”. You run your thumb across her lips, “yes, love, but I want you to do something first”. “What? What is it? Tell me”, Irene starts getting excited at the prospect of getting pregnant. “We’ll be having a lot of sex in the next few days, so I want you to grab a pen and paper and write down your consent so that I won’t have to keep asking”, you say to her. Irene jumps off the bed and runs—or stumbles, rather—out of the bedroom to do what you ask, and while you wait for her, you decide to get ready for sex; you take off your clothes but leave the boxers on for Irene to do the honors and lie down on the bed.

“Here! Here!”, Irene enters the bedroom running and shows you a small piece of paper. You grab the letter from her hands, “let’s see what you wrote, hey?”.

“My name is Bae ‘Irene’ Joohyun, and I am the wife of Director Kang Junho.

I hereby declare that I consent to everything that my beloved husband will be doing to me, as we are trying to have a child of our own. If he wishes to have sex, then I shall comply without asking questions, for I am his beloved wife.

His for eternity,

Irene”

“I know you’re still hungover, but I’ll accept this anyway”, you chuckle as you climb onto the bed, “are we ready?”. Irene joins you in bed and kneels next to you, looking down at herself. “Lo-love”, she says with a tiny voice, “I-I know your dream was about a son, b-but you—erm—you don’t mind having a daughter, do you?”. You take her hands in yours, “of course not, love. Having a child is already such a blessing—it matters little if it’s a boy or a girl”. Irene looks at you with a smile, “that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you”. “Nah-nah-nah”, you deflect, “you just kept saying breed me over and over again”. Irene moves to sit on your lap and pecks you on the lips, “I mean, that’s how a woman gets pregnant”.

“My love, listen to me, please”, you inhale deeply, “I promise you this will be the last time I ask this: what about your career?”. Irene rubs your cheek gently, “love, I don’t care about my career; motherhood will be my greatest achievement—ask me one hundred more times, and I’ll give you the same answer each time”. You move to sit with Irene in your lap. “I will be there with you, love; I’ll be the best father I can be for our children”. “Children?”, Irene bursts out in laughter, “goodness me—now you want to have more than one”.

That’s enough yapping and laughing—it’s now time to fill your wife with baby batter. You place your palms on either side of Irene’s hips and lock eyes with her, confusing her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”, she asks. You smirk, “just thinking about what position I want to fuck you in”. She blushes in response, “w-whatever it is, m-make sure you cum inside”.

You scoot backwards until your back can lean against the headboard. “You want me to ride you, honey?”, she asks, “but what if the cum drips out?”. You shrug, “I’ll just fill you up again”. “Yeah, we can do that”, Irene unlatches her bra and hands it to you, “hold on to this, honey”. Let’s be real, you have better things to hold on to, such as her ass and tits—eh, actually, let’s entertain her for now.

Irene fondles her tits, weighing them with her hands, “do you think they’ll grow bigger, honey?”. You shake your head, clueless, “I don’t know how it works, love. We’ll have to see”. She then holds your hands and places them on her tits, “touch me, please”. “Gladly, baby”, you lick her nipple to tease her.

Irene is great at reacting to stimulations; you’re barely doing anything with her tits, and she’s already squirming around. “Mo-more”, Irene yelps, “oh, please—more”. “Do you think you can give me some breast milk right now?”, you tease her as you squeeze her tits, as if trying to get breast milk out of them. “Prob-probably not”, Irene throws her head back, “I-I don’t think it works like that”. “Ah, unfortunate”, you pinch her nipples, “would love to taste some right now”.  It is when you latch your mouth on her boob that Irene starts moaning loudly.  “Oh, yes, big baby”, Irene palms the back of your head, “big baby can make small babies”. You want to laugh, but you haven’t had enough of your wife’s tits just yet.

Irene’s impatience is showing, as she picks up the pace of her humps. “Please fuck me already”, she begs, “don’t you want to fuck me? Don’t you want to fill me?”. You reach down towards your crotch and hers, “you’re so wet, aren’t you, love?”. “And-and you’re so hard”, she replies. “You know why I’m hard, baby?”, you ask, teasing her one last time. “Y-you—oh, God—you’re hard because you want to fuck me”. You praise her by pinching her nipples, “good answer, baby—now let’s start, hm?”.

You lean back against the headrest and tell Irene that she’s free to do whatever she wants with you. You see that Irene wants to free your cock from your boxers, so you help her out and lift your butt off the bed momentarily. “Who needs a career when you can just spend your days worshipping a cock like this?”, Irene utters, her eyes locked on your erection, “skip work this week, please. It’s not like they can fire you”. True, no one can fire you, but there’s something odd about not going to work, especially as the big boss. “I’ll see what I can do, baby”, you promise her. You keep an eye on Irene, “do you want to suck me off first, baby?”. Your words snap Irene out of her little trance, stopping her from mindlessly stroking your cock; “n-no, let’s skip past that”.

Irene takes off her panties and guides your cock towards her entrance. “I want you so bad, baby”, you egg her on. It is an exaggeration, yeah, but it always works—look, Irene is going down on your cock while moaning! “Oppa”, she calls you by an endearment from way back when, “do you remember our first time?”. You start flipping the pages of your memory to recollect and find the memory with little trouble. “How can I not, love?”, you smile, “you’re my first and only”. Irene lets out a soft yelp when she finally manages to fit your whole shaft inside. “Y-you let me be on top be-because you wanted me to get used to you”, Irene closes her eyes and starts rolling her hips back and forth, “you were splitting me in half, oppa”. Irene’s tight-but-wet grip makes you moan, “it was really hard for me to not just bust right away right there, love”. “Yeah?”, Irene teases with a smirk, “let’s see how long you can hold it in now”.

 “Fuck, baby, you’re so tight”, you grit your teeth, “I love it—I love you”. Irene likes dirty talk, but words of love and affirmation work better on her, proven by how she’s picking up the pace of her bounces. “Yes! Fuck, yes!”, she yells, “I’m perfect for you, daddy!”. You pull her closer to your face so that you can kiss her and show her how much you love her. “Come on, baby. You can do this—fuck, you’re so good to me”, you whisper to her. She plants her forehead on your shoulder and begs for help; “please, please fuck me like you usually do, daddy”. You comply to her request by thrusting up and meeting her in the middle, timing it perfectly to make sure that you can reach her deepest spots.

Irene’s moans are one of the many things you will never get tired of in your marriage. The perfect mix of low- and high-pitched moans (and the occasional yelps and screams, too) makes you feel really good about yourself every single time—the daddy kink is simply the perfect icing on the cake. You don’t really pay attention to yourself, so you don’t know what you look like or what sounds you make during sex, but considering that Irene never complains about it, she probably finds you very attractive during sex—nothing that kills the mood or the like.

“You’re squeezing me, baby”, your focus is turned back to Irene, “you want to cum?”. Irene nods weakly, “please let me cum, daddy”. You never said anything about not letting her cum, but since she’s asking very nicely, she’s more than welcome to cum any time—preferably soon, though; you’re almost on the edge yourself. “Cum for me, baby”, you egg her on, “if you cum now, I’ll breed you”.

Timing couldn’t be any more perfect, as Irene announces that she’s about to cum after a few more bounces. She lets out a very loud scream, but it’s more than fine; it’s not like there’s anyone else in this house other than the two of you—even if the breeding is successful and she’s pregnant, the fruit of the labor won’t be here for another 9 months, so until then, Irene is free to be as loud as she wants.

Irene falls limp to the side, feeling weak from her orgasm, and you use this window to take a breather and get yourself together. “One-one second, please”, Irene squirms around as she basks in the high of her orgasm. “You can take as much time as you want, baby”, you run your hand back and forth on her back to soothe her, “I bet you can’t feel your legs right now”. She chuckles with heavy breaths, “that-that’s your fault, daddy”. You tell her that she can rest while you leave to get some water for her.

When you return, however, you see that Irene’s eyes are closed, and when you lean closer to her, you hear subtle snores coming out of her mouth. You set the glasses of water on the bedside table and pick up the letter to re-read what she’s written. “I consent to everything”, it says, and you’re tempted to push her further. “Let’s see if you’re ready for anal”, you mutter under your breath.

She’s lying flat on her stomach, which allows you access to her rear without having to move her. You make sure that your cock isn’t too dry by slathering spit on the whole thing before you try to pierce her ass. You plant your knees on either side of her closed thighs and spread her cheeks gently to find your target. Even though she has said that she consents to everything, you don’t want to do anything sexual to her while she’s asleep. “Irene, baby”, you pat her cheeks gently to wake her up, “we’re not done yet”. Irene stirs awake and turns her head to look at you, “sorry, daddy; I fell asleep”. You peck the back of her head and tell her that it’s okay. “I’m going again, okay?”.

“Wait, wait—that-that’s not where you breed me, daddy”, Irene grunts in pain when she feels you in her ass. “Consider this your punishment for falling asleep”, you grit your teeth, “fuck, you’re so tight here, too”. “B-but you said it’s okay—AH, FUCK, DADDY!”, Irene lets out a very loud scream when your shaft reaches the deepest point of her ass. “Say your safe word, then”, you challenge her, and Irene shakes her head in response. “N-no, I love getting fucked in the ass”, she grunts, “just don’t cum in my ass, please”. “Oh, yeah, that’s right; we’re trying to get her pregnant”, you think to yourself. “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll go back to your pussy after this”.

You lean forward a bit and place your hands on the bed to make sure you’re steady. “Be good, baby”, you whisper to her while you prepare your hips to fuck her ass hard. “Pl-please, just fuck me already”, Irene yelps, “fuck my ass, daddy”. That’s a green light as bright as any, so you start doing what you’re in this position for: to fuck her ass.

Irene’s screams of pain start getting replaced with moans of pleasure, as she gets more comfortable with taking you in the ass. “You’re so hard and big, daddy”, she praises you between moans, “you’re so good at fucking me”. Her praise serves as fuel to your fire of lust, and with a grunt, you pick up the pace of your thrusts. Your wife is reduced to just moans, unable to do anything else but lie flat on the bed while your shaft is stretching the muscles of her rear.

You feel that you’re almost there, so you pull out of her ass and roll her onto her back. “I want to see you, baby”, you say to her before plunging back into her pussy. She feebly stretches out her arms, asking you to hold her in yours. You lean forward and wrap your arms around her body, while your lips crash into hers. “We’re going to have a child, baby”, you say in a soft voice.

-

“Mr. Kang, your wife is about to give birth. Would you like to be present?”, a nurse asks you. “Yes, please”, you get up from the bench, “please show me the way”. The nurse starts walking towards the room where your wife is, and you feel cold sweat running down your forehead. As you follow the nurse, you pray to the higher beings that your wife and daughter will make it out of this in perfect health.

“She’s here, sir”, the nurse opens a door and leads you inside. “Oh my God”, you exclaim; Irene is pinching her thighs until they’re bruised while the rest of her body is drenched in sweat. “My love”, you move to her side and hold her hand to stop her from pinching her thighs, “my God, how can I help you, baby?”.

More and more nurses enter the room, and all you can do is trust them to do what they do best, which is to help during delivery. You try to focus on your wife, but her screams and the nurses’ voices make it very hard for you to do so. One particular scream from Irene wrenches your heart, making you shed a tear. “God, help her, please”, you chant in your head over and over again, praying in your earnest for her and your daughter’s safety.

-

You slowly open your eyes, and you try to make out where you are right now. You gather your strength and stand up from your seat to check up on Irene. “Wait, that’s—“, you rub your eyes to make clear of the sight in front of you. “This is our daughter, honey”, Irene says tearily, “we have a daughter”. “Oh my God, what a blessing”, you let out a sigh of relief, “what happened to me, though? How did I get here?”. Irene places a hand on your cheeks and rubs it softly, “a nurse said that you passed out, so they had to carry you here”. You feel bad for them for having to carry you as a dead weight and you promise that you’ll compensate them later.

“Love, we have a daughter”, Irene repeats as she breaks down in tears, “we have a daughter—can you believe that?”. You place a hand on Irene’s head to soothe her, while you use your other hand to reach for your little daughter. “Hi, baby”, you say gently, “welcome to the world, little one”. The sight makes you shed tears of your own—who knew it would turn out like this, because you certainly didn’t. “What’s her name, honey?”, Irene asks. “Yeseo”, you wipe the tears off your cheeks and peck your daughter over the blanket that’s covering her (because you don’t want to compromise her hygiene or something like that), “your name is Yeseo, my dear—my sweet, sweet daughter”.

-

“Welcome home!”, you excitedly open the doors of your house and lead your wife and daughter, who is peacefully sleeping in her arms, inside. Once they’re in, you close the doors behind you and lead them to sit on the sofa. “I love you so much, baby”, you say to Irene. “I love you so much more, honey”, she replies, “and I love you so much, Yeseo-yah”. You look at your daughter lovingly, and you really want to give her a peck. “Can I peck her, love?”, you ask your wife, earning a laugh from her. “Of course you can; you’re her father”.

Irene hands Yeseo over to you, and you make sure that your arms are perfectly steady. “Yeseo-yah, I love you so much”, you say in the gentlest voice you can come up with, “I will protect you and your mother with my life”. Obviously, she can’t say anything back to you, but you’d like to think that she can hear you, and what’s better for Yeseo to hear first thing than words of love from her parents?

“Love, I want to celebrate”, you say to your wife, your gaze still locked on your baby. “Yeah? How?”, Irene asks, “you want to make more babies?”. “Seriously?”, you look at her with an I-can’t-believe-you-just-said-that face, “no, love; I don’t want to make another one just yet”. Irene laughs out loud, “oh, you know, I was just making sure—so how do you want to celebrate?”. You gently run a finger on Yeseo’s cheek, “I want to make her birthday a holiday at the company, and I want to raise everyone’s salary by 8%”. Your wife moves to sit closer to you and wraps an arm around your back, “yeah, that sounds like a good celebration”.

[chelseeebe]

still into you

after abruptly leaving hawkins (and you) seven years ago, eddie munson, ex-boyfriend turned rockstar, makes a grand return. how will things pan out when your lives couldn’t be further apart?

this has been in the drafts for god knows how long and you can definitely tell where my writing started to improve as i came back to it.. hope y’all enjoy anyway! this is so long good lord. also includes a bit of bestfriendism with stevie!

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of alcohol. eddie is a dickhead. no use of y/n!

read part two here.

‎♡‧₊˚

‘you know he’s coming back next weekend?’ steve mutters, nodding towards you as you rip the sellotape from the brown box, beginning to stack the cans of soup.

‘is he? oh my god oh my god,’ feigning excitement with a straight face.

you’d already known he was coming back, you’d received the invitation just like everybody else. except, you’d swiftly put the gimmicky piece of paper into the trash and got on with your day. confused why everyone else seemed to be losing their goddamn minds over it.

he huffs quietly, helping you with the heavy tins, ‘are you gonna go?’ steve didn’t actually work in melvalds but came in on his breaks purely to chat and distract you from your work.

‘am i gonna go? hmm, let me think.. no.’

‘he wants to see you.. you should come,’ prodding his elbow into your side, collapsing the box into a flat piece of cardboard.

‘you spoke to him?’ ears perking up. you didn’t care if he’d mentioned you. no, really.

‘yeah.. he called a few weeks ago, y’know when the invitations got sent out,’ picking up the next box to start filling the shelf.

‘oh! it’s nice to know he called you and just hilarious to know i never got a phone call,’ getting frankly quite sick of hearing about eddie fucking munson and his grand return.

once upon a time, eddie had actually been your boyfriend. must’ve been 7 or so years ago by this point.. anyway, that was before he’d got his big break and decided that he was going to completely forget about hawkins.. and about you. you’d still been together after his first tiny tour, excitedly waiting for him to come home when he just.. never did.

he’d had the decency to at least call and tell you that he was breaking up with you.. we’re just in different places right now.. it’s not you.. i don’t want you to ruin your life waiting for me..

it was essentially a whole bunch of bullshit, because the very next month he was spotted with some bottle blonde model looking suspiciously close at some club he’d have absolutely hated the year prior. it was like a punch to the gut, flicking through the pages of the trashy magazine just knowing that you hadn’t been enough for this new lifestyle of his.

from then on, you’d decided to disengage with any and everything about him. turning the tv off when corroded coffin came on one of the morning talk shows, leaving the room at parties when one of his song’s inevitably came on and just completely blanking out of the conversation when his name was brought up. it was easier that way, saved your feelings and the awkward glances you’d get.

at some point things had become slightly more complicated and you’re not sure how exactly it had happened but you had wound up pregnant. and by jason carver no less. maybe it was your shared disdain for eddie that had brought you together. who knows?

but it had happened and now you had to deal with it. and although jason may come in a close second to world’s biggest assholes.. you had gained a beautiful daughter from it all and had become quite content with your single mom life.

people had come and gone, robin jetting off to some fancy college in california.. jonathan and nancy ending up in new york at some hot-shot newspaper.. the kids you’d sort of gathered had all gone off to various colleges, becoming adults themselves. all except for steve.

steve had stayed in hawkins like you, begrudgingly following his father’s footsteps, getting a job at his accounting firm. it was good money and kept his dad happy so he couldn’t fault it really. he’d even got his own place just down the street from your house and at some point you’d just accepted that he was probably your only friend in hawkins.

it had brought the two of you undeniably closer and maybe you’d even call him your best friend now. well, except for right now as he was beginning to piss you off with all this fussing over eddie.

‘you have to come.. it’s not just for him, everyone is going.. it’s a reunion,’ steve continues to pester you despite your efforts to shut him down.

‘steve, i’m not going and that’s that.’

he sighs, staring at you with a blank expression, ‘okay, well.. i’ll tell him it’s a maybe,’ checking his watch before frowning, ‘shit, i’m late.. i’ll see you later,’ throwing the empty cardboard to the floor before dashing off down the aisle, giving you an exaggerated wave as he disappears.

you just knew that he was not going to drop this until you agreed to go. but he could kick and scream as much as he liked, you had absolutely zero desire to go this flimsy reunion and even less desire to see eddie in the flesh.

-

it’s another dull week of stacking shelves and managing a team of absolute morons and before you know it, it’s the day before that fucking reunion and steve is still as incessant as ever that you must go.

‘my mom can look after ella.. please just come,’ he sounded like he was a second away from getting on his knees to actually beg you to go.

you’d started to just ignore him now, getting on with whatever you were doing, choosing to give him the silent treatment. he hated that.

‘you’re so annoying,’ he scoffs, still helping you unbox the bags of chips, ‘will you just come for five minutes.. you don’t even have to talk to eddie, it’s the first time we’ll all be together again.. puh-leaseee,’ breaking into a weird sort of sing-song tone.

you exhale through your nose, visibly frustrated by the man, ‘i’m going to ban you in a minute,’ raising your eyebrows, taking the same tone you used when ella was being a brat.

‘no you won’t,’ furrowing his brows, ‘what if i promise to stand in between you the whole night? i’ll beat him with a stick if he even tries to talk to you,’ completely serious with what he just said.

you chortle, covering your mouth as one of the elderly customers walks past, slightly bewildered by the noise that just escaped your mouth, ‘couldn’t you just beat him with a stick anyway?’

‘ehh.. not really, he is paying for the whole thing,’ straightening the bags of air he’d just placed on the shelf, ‘i mean, i could if you really want me to.’

you roll your eyes, of course he was. he’d rented the fanciest restaurant just outside of town for your gaggle of pals. any chance to flaunt the fact that he’d made it out of this hell hole and left the rest of you in the dirt.

‘i have a child, steve, i can’t just go out and leave her at home.. some of us aren’t free like you are,’ turning to face him with a stern hand on your hip.

‘i just told you my mom’ll look after her.. she hasn’t seen her in so long and.. and you can stay at mine and i’ll take you to her first thing in the morning,’ his eyes are round, glimmering in the harsh overhead lights.

‘i don’t have anything to wear,’ shrugging, you really didn’t. becoming a mother isn’t quite so glamorous and a lot of clothes you’d once fit into had become a little tight.

‘when d’you finish?’

narrowing your eyes at him, ‘two..’

‘great.. okay well, i’ll take a half-day and we can go shopping.. on me,’ wiggling his eyebrows at you. the thing about steve is that he believes that most problems can be solved by throwing money at it.

he wasn’t wrong, of course.

because you reluctantly agree to go shopping with him on the condition that you weren’t definitely going to this thing. you were just going to try on dresses. that was it.

-

you get a cab to the restaurant, there was no way in hell you were doing this sober nor did you want to subject steve to being sober for your sake. palms clammy as you clamber out of the vehicle, immediately regretting your decision.

no one would care if you didn’t go, right? you could quite easily just get back into the taxi and go home without forcing yourself to endure the night.

steve’s one step ahead of you, grabbing your hand so you can’t run away. throwing him an awful glare but you weren’t really mad, just annoyed that he’d succeeded in persuading you to come.

‘c’mon.. it won’t be so bad once you’re in there,’ smoothing down his fresh shirt as he begins to walk up the winding path, dragging you along behind him.

he’s wrong. it’s so much worse inside. the place was huge, extravagantly decorated and full of people you’d once regarded as your best friends, all too busy in their own conversations to notice you and steve walk in.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t heard from them, it had just been through occasional letters and christmas cards rather than seeing them face to face. robin would call sometimes, fill you in on whatever she had been up to and beg to speak to ella who absolutely loved it. you were sure they were on the same wavelength.

you look to steve with wary eyes, digging your fingertips into his hand, ‘we could just leave right now.. no one would even know,’ tugging gently on his arm.

‘hey,’ he whispers, ‘it’s okay.. look, robin’s coming over, we’ll say hi and see how you feel,’ using his spare hand to wave at the bubbly girl, dropping your hand to give her a hug.

‘oh my god,’ she rushes, ‘how are you? you look so good.. and i don’t mean you,’ pulling away from steve to throw her arms around you, her gentle hands rubbing on your back.

‘hah, it’s nice to see you too,’ steve rolls his eyes, grabbing two of the champagne flutes being ferried around by fancy waiters.

she pulls back, ‘i didn’t think you were coming.. how are you doing? how’s ella?’ the words falling out of her mouth at super speed, it was as if her mouth moved before her brain did.

‘i wasn’t gonna but i wanted to see you guys,’ you nod, taking the glass from steve’s outstretched hand and taking a lengthy sip, ‘i’m okay.. ella’s okay.. you’ll have to come and see her before you leave.’

‘i will i will! i literally landed like two hours ago and had to rush but i’m back until friday,’ her hands flying around as she spoke, ‘come and say hello..’ her arm intertwines with yours as she leans in closer to your ear, ‘he’s staring y’know..’

your eyes roll back on their own, not even wanting to search the room for him, ‘i’m not speaking to him so he can stare all he likes,’ straightening up as you approach the group robin had left.

nancy’s talking to max about something in incredible detail but is quite to stop when you approach, mouth in a small ‘o’ as she hugs you, ‘you came? i thought we were gonna miss you,’ grinning wide when she pulls back.

you give an overdramatic sigh, ‘of course i had to come.. you’d all miss me too much,’ waving to the rest of the group.

there are a lot of small pleasantries swapped, asking about their journey’s here and how they’d been.. standard small talk. but then el asks to see a picture of ella, ecstatic that their names were so similar. you’d come prepared, pulling the creased picture out of your bag.

they all gush and coo over her, it was a picture you’d snapped from her first day of kindergarten, cheesing with her pigtails and pink hair bobbles. passing it around the gathered group, still steadily sipping on the bitter champagne.

‘who’s that?’ eddie asks, you hadn’t noticed him sidle over to the crowd, stood peering over lucas’ shoulder at the photograph.

your eyes meet his, seeing his face for the first time in what felt like centuries. he looked older, obviously, still sporting the same long curls except now it actually looked as if it’d been styled. he’s in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, forearms now littered with tattoos and a nice looking watch. your heart just about stops beating when you realise you’ll now have to explain exactly who that is.

‘uh.. that’s ella,’ you nod, not quite meeting his eyes, ‘..my daughter,’ taking the photo from lucas’ hand, the atmosphere had quite suddenly shifted and people begin to scatter, starting their own conversations so they don’t have to bare witness to this one.

‘oh.. oh, right.. well, congratulations then,’ the shadow of a smile on his lips, could he feel how fucking awkward this was?

‘thank you,’ giving him a half nod, startled as steve’s hand brushes the small of your back. he’d seen that you were in conversation and had left dustin to fulfil his security guard promise.

‘it’s nice that you two found each other.. you have a beautiful daughter,’ still not fully committed to smiling but he was getting there.

your face contorts, immediately looking to steve before letting out a god awful cackle, ‘oh no.. she’s not steve’s,’ covering your mouth before another taunting laugh comes out.

steve is trying to stifle his grin but fails, reaching his hand out to shake eddie’s hand, ‘ah man, no ella’s not mine but she is beautiful, isn’t she? how are you?’

you’re eternally grateful that he he’s managed to sway the conversation and you aren’t forced to explain why or how you’d had a child with jason fucking carver. turning back to robin as you hear steve ramble on about work and corroded coffin’s new album, something you had absolutely no care about.

‘shall we get another drink?’ robin asks, eyeing the open bar and your empty glass.

‘please.’

the rest of the night is going.. relatively well. it’s kinda unsettling to watch the younger kids drink legally, getting more boisterous and loud as the night progresses. it’s nice, if not a little sad just thinking about how you weren’t really able to enjoy yourself at their age because you had a newborn.

you must’ve been deep in thought as you don’t even notice eddie creep up to the empty table, standing awkwardly besides your chair, ‘can we talk?’

your eyes shoot up to meet his, baffled by his presence, ‘what could we possibly have to talk about?’

he exhales through his nose, ‘uh.. a lot? we don’t have to do it here.. i have a room upstairs or.. outside?’

‘no,’ gripping onto your glass of wine, desperately trying to grab the attention of someone behind eddie to come and save you, ‘i don’t want to speak to you.’

he’s exasperated, clutching onto his beer with strained white knuckles. how were you ever supposed to move past this when you wouldn’t even give him the opportunity to explain himself. but that was exactly it. you didn’t care about any of the silly excuses you’re sure he’d conjured up, he did what he did and that was that.

‘i’m trying here..’ sounding exasperated, ‘how ‘bout dinner? sometime this week, on me,’ his voice is deeper now, raspier. you figure as a result of constant partying and chain smoking while on tour.

‘i have a child and a job.. i don’t have time for dinner with you on top of that,’ swallowing the rest of the sweet white wine, putting the empty glass back on the table with a forceful slam.

you make brief eye contact with will who was passing behind eddie and decide to take the opportunity to pounce, standing from your chair and rushing over the second he nears your table.

‘will.. hey,’ speeding to catch him up, mouthing a small save me, clinging to his arm as you move away from eddie who was stood deflated at the table.

will thankfully catches your drift, steering you towards the bar, ‘you okay? i was just about to leave..’ placing his empty glass onto the bar with a soft sigh.

‘what? no.. if i can’t go then you’re not allowed either,’ talking sternly to the boy even though he now towered above you and just about everybody else in here.

he screws up his face, looking over to the dance floor, ‘it’s just..’ sighing once again, ‘awful, isn’t it?’ following his gaze to an intoxicated mike performing an elaborate air guitar routine in the middle of the floor.

it wasn’t exactly the same, but you could empathise with the difficult situation and that foul feeling in your stomach that you were sure he could feel too. you could imagine that it wasn’t easy to see the man you’d once, or perhaps still loved after so long. in fact, you didn’t really need to imagine at all.

deciding it was better to change the subject, distract him from the unraveling scene on the dance floor, ‘d’you smoke?’

he looks around quickly, watching out for a listening jonathan, you assume before he nods quickly, ‘but no one can know,’ a hint of a smile creeping onto his face.

you return the devilish grin before hooking your arm in his, pulling him towards the door where you could get the hell away from annoying men and their long black hair.

-

it’s gone three by the time you get back to steve’s, genuinely having to coax him from the party and into the cab you’d shared with a belligerent dustin, making sure he had got home safely.

‘i wasn’t too mean, was i?’ snuggled up in steve’s blankets, facing each other in the low light of his room.

‘nooo, no you were on fire,’ he laughs, he was still tipsy and slightly reeking of booze as he lay next to you.

‘really? you’re sure?’ he was definitely just drunk and blabbing on but you’d take it.

‘yes.. it was perfect,’ he hiccups, interrupting his sentence, ‘buuut.. and i’m not the only one who said this so don’t kill me..’ kissing the back of his teeth, ‘you’re not gonna like what i have to say.’

‘what? what is it?’ prodding his shoulder with a quick jab. knowing eddie, he’d probably gone round the party whispering some bullshit about the two of you.

‘well..’ holding his hands in the air, ‘there’s still chemistry there.. y’know i could see it,’ raising his eyebrows, hands collapsing onto the blanket.

‘right, i’m going to sleep.. you’re drunk and just saying stupid shit now,’ rolling your eyes as you settle into the soft pillow, closing your eyes so you no longer had to entertain his idiotic nonsense.

he chortles, hiccuping mid-laugh which makes a horrid choking noise, ‘i’m not that drunk.. robin said it too,’ the lamp clicks off, darkening the room, ‘and dustin..’

‘go to sleep steve,’ unamused and tired.

‘okay okay.. goodnight,’ he calls, you can hear the smile in his voice as he turns to face the other way, taking that as your opportunity to rest your head on his back, nuzzling into the soft cotton t-shirt.

-

monday is particularly awful and you’re reminded exactly why you don’t drink often. two days on and you’re still exhausted, half-heartedly filling the shelves and just trying to make it to two o’clock.

in your tired state, one of the bottles of shampoo you were putting out, falls out of your hand and rolls off somewhere down the aisle. you sigh, a deep, fed-up, exhaustive sigh and get up to go and fetch it when the bottle appears before your face, a tattooed, ring-filled hand latched onto it.

‘carver? really?’ eddie frowns, watching you from above, eyebrows furrowed together.

you place the bottle onto it’s rightful spot on the shelf and choose to ignore him. if he’d come all the way down here just to piss you off about your poor life choices then he could get fucked.

‘when’d that happen?’

blanking him again as you continue to put stuff onto the shelves. this was the easiest way to guarantee that you weren’t going to get yourself fired for being rude to him.

‘you gonna ignore me? i just wanna know,’ still poking and prodding, he clearly wasn’t very good at picking up on context clues.

nothing.

‘fuck, can you just talk to me for five minutes?’ your silence was driving him crazy, aggravating him to no end.

‘i’m at work, so no,’ hurriedly trying to finish the stock you had so you had an excuse to rush out the back and away from him.

he was fortunate that it was a quiet monday, the store full of mostly older ladies who had no idea who he was. you sorta hoped that he’d get mobbed and would have to hurry off and leave you alone.

‘why jason? out of literally everyone else in this shithole you choose jason?’ screwing his face up in disgust.

you slam the box cutter down with a loud clatter, causing a few turned heads and raised eyebrows. fuck ‘em. if you had done what you’d really wanted to do, you’d be locked up forever.

‘i don’t know if you remember this but my boyfriend of like, two years ran away and never came home so yeah.. that kinda fucked with me a little and lucky for me, jason carver was there and also hated my ex’s guts.. so it was perfect, you know?’ staring flatly at him, you were not dealing with his shit today.

eddie scoffs, ‘so you had a kid with him? and now.. what? you play happy families just to spite me? is that it?’

‘yes eddie, i had a whole child just to piss you off.’

he gawps back at you, clearly also did not possess the ability to sense sarcasm.

‘no,’ scowling at him, ‘it was an accident and now he’s.. i dunno, coaching basketball at some school in ohio or some shit.. why don’t you go and bother him?’

‘so you’re not together?’

you can only roll your eyes in response, in sheer disbelief that he’d made such a fuss because he couldn’t just outright ask if you were single.

un-fucking-believable.

you’ve had just about enough of this conversation, pulling your little trolley back towards the swing doors that lead to the warehouse. at least he wasn’t allowed in there.

‘wait! wait..’ he grabs onto the other side of the trolley, stopping you from walking off, ‘have dinner with me tonight or.. tomorrow?’ eyes big and pleading.

‘now why would i do that?’

‘because i want to explain myself.. i need to.’

one of the younger shoppers notices who he is and begins trying to talk to him, coming over to where you two stood rather excitedly. eddie is kind enough to smile and give her a few polite words, eyes still latched onto yours despite the ecstatic woman beside him.

‘okay,’ honestly just wanting to get away from all this commotion, ‘tomorrow.’

his scowl subsides, replaced by a gleaming grin, ‘six o’clock.. pino’s, i’ll sort it, okay?’ already starting to walk away from the crazy woman.

‘right,’ you nod, pulling your trolley away and into the back warehouse, leaning against the concrete wall. the whole exchange was tiring, knocking whatever tiny bit of energy out of you.

were you actually gonna go?

absolutely fucking not.

-

by the time six rolls around the next night, you really had forgotten all about it. rushing to get ella her dinner after swimming lessons, already worrying about paying for yet another field trip she’d sprung on you earlier. you’d begun to wonder if they even taught in the classrooms anymore with the amount of permission slips she brought home.

she’s finally settled into bed, after much protesting and a lot of coaxing. you’re just about to finally relax on the couch when someone hammers on your front door. and if you weren’t already pissed off with ella’s whining, you were most definitely about to be with whichever mindless prick was banging on your door.

‘what do you want?’ you hiss, jerking the door open to reveal a pathetic looking eddie on the other side, face forlorn and dejected.

he’s in that white shirt again. it makes you sick to your stomach to admit that it really does look good on him. his arms now more defined, the cotton sticking to his muscles, briefly showcasing the new tattoos underneath. maybe he’d actually got off of his ass and did something other than smoke weed all day.

‘oh so you are alive, d’you forget about something?’ he’s snarling now, having conjured up some elaborate excuse in his head as to why you hadn’t showed, only to find you at home, seemingly with no care in the world.

‘oops,’ the corners of your mouth twitching into a smile, you hadn’t even actually meant to stand him up, you were just gonna call his hotel and cancel but the thought had just completely slipped your mind.

and even if it shouldn’t, it really did feel good. knowing he was the one sat waiting for you for once.

‘oops? i sat there for an hour waiting for you and then spent the last hour trying to convince dustin to give me your fucking address.. and all you can say is oops?’

you shrug, ‘feels pretty shitty to be forgotten about, doesn’t it?’ tilting your head, watching as his face falls. he’d been got.

‘okay.. okay, i get it, and i’m sorry.. there’s not a day that goes by that i don’t feel like shit for how i treated you,’ his head dips low, looking particularly sorry for himself.

and for a second you do too. not that he deserved it. quickly having to remind yourself exactly what he had done to you, which was not at all helped by the fact that he now had everything he’d ever wanted in life.

and you couldn’t fault your life. truly. but fuck did it sting sometimes, to know that your life had stagnated, stuck in the same shitty town you’d grown up in while he was on the other side of the country, more money than sense and a hoard of doting fans that would do absolutely anything he’d ask of them.

‘good,’ you bark, going to slam the door shut only for it to bang against his black boot wedged in the door, ‘if you don’t move your foot i’ll- i’ll call the police.’

‘no you won’t,’ his hand reaches out to grab onto the other side of the handle, he could’ve easily pushed his way in if he’d really wanted, ‘let’s talk.. like adults,’ begging you now, ‘please.’

you huff, this would end with you either letting him in or being forced to wake ella after you bashed his head into the doorframe. it was easier to just accept the first option and you’d find some bullshit to get him to leave later on.

opening the door wider to let him in, keeping your eyes square on the ground as he walks through, peering around at your home. probably comparing it to his mansion in the hollywood hills the pretentious fuck.

‘nice..’ he nods, leaning in to look at the photo of you and ella a few christmas’ ago, she was tiny then, sporting a miniature santa hat.

‘yeah well, she’s asleep upstairs so.. make it quick,’ you frown, closing the door behind him, watching as his eyes take in the cluttered room, smile fading when he catches sight of the singular picture you have up of jason and ella.

‘i can’t believe you chose to fuck jason of all people.. i mean, i’ve made some shitty decisions in my life but..’ he stops himself from going any further when he sees your face, if looks could kill, he’d be long gone by now.

‘did you come here for a reason? or are you here to talk about my life decisions.. because i really don’t want to hear it from you,’ crossing your arms over your chest, wanting him out of your house.

‘no.. no, shit- i’m sorry,’ he shuffles on his feet, banging his head, ‘i wanna talk.. properly.’

you roll your hand to motion for him to continue, ‘go on..’

he inhales, chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to psyche himself up to actually say what he wanted to say. it wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say, he just couldn’t string it together to make sense.

‘i’m sorry for the way i treated you.. it wasn’t right and i know that now,’ his hand coming to rub the back of his clammy next, why was your house so fucking hot?

‘okay.. apology accepted, was that everything?’ you say flatly, glancing up the stairs to make sure ella wasn’t awake and out of her room.

his face falls, ‘can you just.. just let me explain,’ his adam apple bobbing as he swallows, ‘why don’t you sit down..’ motioning towards your ratty couch.

you relent your stern stature, hesitantly going to sit on the couch, trying to ensure that he couldn’t possibly sit next to you by sprawling your legs out onto the empty cushion. so he takes the seat furthest away, running his hands down his tight jeans. designer, no less.. the only person you knew stupid enough to spend thousands on designer jeans just to tear holes in them.

‘when i ended things with you, i wasn’t.. well, it was me, but i had my manager screaming in my ear that it’d never work and he could hook me up with some fuckin’ model.. it’d help the band.. so that’s what i did,’ and for once, he looked genuinely remorseful, fiddling with the loose threads on his expensive jeans.

‘so you sold out? that’s your excuse?’

his head shoots up, mouth hung open with absolute disgust all over his face, ‘i am not a sell out.’

which is incredibly refutable, you’d heard a snippet of one of their recent songs on the radio at work and it had sounded exactly like the commercial shit he used to rag on when you were together. not a touch on the corroded coffin you sat and watched practice for hours on end.

‘oh? so you didn’t break up with me to further your career? you just wanted to fuck hot models? which one is it ‘cause i’m a little confused here,’ completely losing it, springing up from your slouched position.

‘okay, yeah.. yeah i did, i broke up with you because i wanted to fuckin’ make something of my life.. and look at where i am and look at-,’

‘-don’t you dare finish that sentence,’ you snap, gritting your teeth together as you near his face, positively shaking with rage.

‘what’re you gonna do? you gonna hit me? do it,’ his chin tilted to match your elevated position, eyes glued to yours.

‘i should.’

his lips twitch into a smirk, ‘you won’t.’

and before your brain has the time to really process your next movements, he balls his fist into your t-shirt, causing your chest to collide into his as his lips smash into yours, knocking the air out of your lungs.

scrambling to find his shoulders for balance, sliding one hand onto his stubbly cheek. it’s all teeth and tongues, he’s ravenous and unrelenting, letting go of his grip on your shirt to place his hands on your hips, ‘move,’ mumbling against your lips as he attempts to manoeuvre you onto his lap while twisting around.

he slides down the couch, keeping a solid hold of your body as you find the right position. your legs are either side of his waist, sliding into the gap between his body and the couch sitting right on his crotch. wasting absolutely zero time in connecting your lips against, honestly not wanting to run the risk of him opening his mouth and ruining this.

his large hands find solace on your ass, creeping up to remove the oversized shirt you’d thrown on. you place your hand above his, restricting him from moving any further. it’s not that you were embarrassed- okay, maybe you were a little. but your body had changed since becoming a mom and eddie had become accustomed to gorgeous models and perfect women that he’d certainly not want to see your boring, frumpy mom body.

he groans in protest, trying again to lift the shirt further only for your fingernails to dig into his hand, ‘no,’ speaking into the filthy kiss.

eddie pulls away from the kiss, fingers coming to gently brush the hair from your face, ‘you can’t be serious? i’ve seen it all before,’ he grumbles, fingers itching to try lift it again.

‘not like this you haven’t.. i just.. want it on, okay?’

‘no- why won’t you let me take this off?’ fingers curling around the hem, already trying his luck with getting it up again.

you sigh, meeting his blown out eyes with your glossy ones, ‘i don’t even know what i’m doing.. fuck,’ attempting to climb off of his lap while the spare hand he has on your ass clamps you down, keeping you pressed to him.

‘hey.. hey, keep it on.. i don’t care,’ already trying to chase your lips, ‘i’m just saying, you don’t need to,’ the denim covering his growing erection starting to rub against your throbbing clit, the sparse material of your pajama shorts were not leaving much to the imagination.

‘jesus christ, just take it off,’ giving up in your protest, it was useless against eddie’s persistence.

you press your lips to his the second your shirt is off, there was no time to judge your body if he couldn’t see it. pulling at his jacket to get it off, the metal buttons digging into your now bare skin.

‘i didn’t.. i didn’t mean.. what i said..’ babbling through the kiss as he shimmies out of the jacket, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

‘shut up,’ you whine, running your hand along the length of his chest until you reach the hem of his black shirt, gripping your fingers around the fabric and lifting it slightly, exposing his midriff, the soft trail of hair ascending the skin.

his head jerks backwards, allowing you to tug the shirt off, finally allowing his eyes to wander to your chest. ‘holy shit,’ he remarks like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. it’s futile for him to pretend that he hadn’t seen some amazing boobs in his time so you scoff, rolling your eyes.

working your hand at his belt buckle, fiddling with the metal until it pops undone. he’s hard already and it makes you groan, brushing your hand over the raised denim. this week seriously must’ve been difficult if he was getting hard so easily over you.

it doesn’t ever occur to you how much of a mistake this was. and even if it did, you didn’t have much time to ponder on it as his hands are grabbing at your breasts, palming them as his lips suck at your jaw and down onto your neck softly. guaranteed to leave a lovely violet mark that the old ladies at work would certainly gasp at.

he’s helping you with his jeans, one hand gripping onto your waist to keep you steady as he lifts his hips from the couch and the other hurriedly yanking them down just enough to reveal his boxers. that’s the next port of call, fingers grabbing at the thin black cotton, pulling them down his thighs as his cock springs into action.

eddie’s lips are still on your neck while you mindlessly wrap your hand around his cock, pumping your fist as you shuffle upwards. his breath hitches in his throat, still peppering sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin.

‘oh god,’ he whines into your collarbone, feeling his eyelashes flutter against your jaw. for a man who had been painted as womaniser in the media, he sure was still just as pathetic as he used to be underneath you.

you’re a little annoyed that it’s you who’s taking control right now. after so many years of disrespect from his end, you think he at least owed it to you to take charge.

your hand grabs onto his shoulder, pulling his face from your neck, ‘be quiet, okay?’ sitting taller to position yourself comfortably, the harsh fabric of the couch grazing your knees.

he nods, sliding his hand up your waist and back to your hip, taking in the sight of you. you wouldn’t ever admit it aloud, but truthfully, you really did miss him sometimes. missed the way his pretty pink lips looked after being glued to yours or the way he gazed at you doing the most mundane tasks.

you cant your hips, sinking down onto his length slowly, biting down onto your bottom lip as his cock fills you to the hilt. his eyelids flicker, fingernails digging into your doughy hips. it’s been a little while since you’d done this so you have to take a second to become accustomed to the slight stretch. it’s good, in the most masochistic way.

your hands cling onto his shoulders, watching his slack jaw, tiny breaths escaping from his mouth as you attempt to move. painstakingly slow at first, knees beginning to shake as you try to remember what you should even be doing. your cheeks flushing, feeling so incredibly embarrassed. the man was fucking models and then you’re here, pitifully trying to ride him. it’s awful, you know it’s awful.

his arm comes to snake around your waist, taking matters into his own hands and flipping the two of you around, your back suddenly pressed into the couch. holy shit. you appreciate the initiative, wrapping your legs around his waist, readjusting your grip on his shoulders.

‘need you a little faster than that darling,’ large hands digging into the couch either side of your head. you’d feel utterly mortified if you weren’t thoroughly enjoying the sight of him looming over you, his hair falling beautifully into your face.

eddie starts slow at first, moving his hips slowly, obviously well versed. your mouth opens but no noise escapes, well aware that you weren’t the only ones in your house. instead you pant softly, desperate for his lips to grace yours again.

it’s not long before he’s quickening his pace, unable to contain himself when you feel so perfect around him. ‘i missed you- fuck, i’ve missed you so much,’ he groans, keeping his voice low despite wanting to start screaming.

you don’t reply, too fucked-out to even think about words. eyes drooping as his cock nudges against the soft spongy spot no one other than him had been able to reach.

the couch creaks beneath you, the old thing unable to keep up with his rutting hips, the top of your head knocking into the arm rest every time his hips collided with yours. your living room had never bore witness to such filth and as quiet as you were trying to be, the sounds are indistinguishable.

having to bite down onto your lip when his thumb meets your clit, legs tightening around his waist with every soft circle he draws around the sensitive bud. eddie was never bad in bed but holy shit, maybe money had done something right for him.

he sits up, soft sighs falling out of his lips as his hand disconnects from your clit, sliding toward your knee and positioning your leg onto his shoulder. your nails press into his forearm, willing yourself to stay quiet even now he’s seemingly trying to kill you.

and through it all, he’s smirking. relishing the way you’re writhing around, trying not to cum when he nudges against that sweet, spongy spot this position allowed.

his thumb finds your clit again, ‘holy shit sweetheart.. you gonna cum?’ grunting softly with every thrust.

you’re positively wrecked beneath him, face pressed into the couch cushion as your stomach flips. panting into the fabric, incoherent ramblings of eddie’s name and a bunch of curse words fill the room.

‘cum for me baby.. shit,’ struggling to keep his own pace as you tighten around him, leg trembling around his neck as your orgasm takes over. pleasure overtaking your limbs as your hips buck instinctively, thankfully muffled by the couch.

‘oh my god,’ you breathe, struggling to see straight when your eyes eventually reopen, gazing up at eddie above, certain he’s about to draw blood from his teeth digging in to his lip.

‘where.. where shall i- shit,’ he squeezes out, feeling his hips begin to stutter, eyes rolling to the back of his head. he’s just about quick enough to pull out, thick ropes of cum paint your thighs. narrowly avoiding the couch.

if you had the energy to get annoyed, you would’ve snapped, but in all honesty, your brain was still reeling and anger was the last thing you felt.

eddie reaches over, ever the gentleman and grabs his shirt to clean his mess. didn’t matter to him obviously, he had more than enough money to buy another.

and there it is. the bitterness filling your body again the second he’s no longer on top of you, or inside of you rather. you attempt to bite it down.

‘you wanna talk now?’ he asks, pulling his boxers back up to a more respectable position.

‘i’m tired eddie,’ and you are, on a school night like tonight you’d have been fast asleep by now.

he sighs, shoulders slumping over. even after you’d just had the most mind-altering sex, you couldn’t speak to him. ‘please,’ pleading with you almost, desperate for one more chance.

maybe it’s the exhaustion or maybe the dopamine still pumping through your brain but you concede, pulling your shirt back over your head before motioning for him to speak.

‘i don’t have any excuses, i’m just-,’ he sighs, turning on the couch to face you fully, ‘i’m sorry for hurting you, i was wrong and i know that,’ his eyes are dipped, peering at you from underneath his spindly lashes, ‘why d’you think i’ve avoided this place for so long?’

‘i don’t know? because you’re a pussy? because you’re too scared to face me?’ letting the words rattle off your tongue without much thought.

‘because i’m embarrassed,’ he corrects, without much offence, ‘because i’m ashamed and feel like i owe you more than some dick and a shitty apology.. i just didn’t know how i could ever make it up to you,’ half-moon eyes glossy in the low light.

your heart thumps in your chest, blood echoing through your ears. eddie munson, world renowned rockstar was sat on your couch, apologising for something you should’ve forgotten about a long time ago.

the years of hatred and avoidance come tumbling down in a millisecond. all you’d ever wanted was to hear him say sorry. to admit that he’d fucked you over for a life of fame and now you had it, you weren’t exactly sure what to even do with it.

‘okay.. now what? are you gonna make it up to me? because i want to believe you eddie, i do.. but you can’t just traipse in here and expect me to forgive you like that,’ the tears roll over, sliding down your warm cheeks.

he nods, grabbing onto your hands in a last ditch gesture to show his sincerity, ‘i’m going to.. i-i want to,’ he’s still nodding, bringing his face closer to yours, ‘tell me how, i’ll do anything,’ adam’s apple bobbing with every word.

‘stay here,’ your eyes are trained on him, ignoring the blurred vision, ‘not forever, just for now,’ lips pursed, ready to be broken once more.

you half-expect him to come out with some sorry excuse, tell you he had to get back to his hotel so he couldn’t possible stay here.

but he doesn’t.

eddie takes your hand, tugging it gently and with words you don’t register, babbles something about bed. so you follow him, allowing him to guide you to your room and slide in between the sheets next to you.

everything is so gentle, soft and pure. something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

-

‘hey.. sweetheart,’ eddie’s hand gently shakes your arm, whispering into your ear, ‘you awake?’

you squint in the dim light, feeling his hand descend onto your waist, chest pressed against your back, ‘i am now,’ you grumble, it was early.. early even by ella’s standards.

‘i gotta go.. you got work today?’ he asks, making no effort to actually get up and leave your bed though.

you nod into the pillow, rubbing your sleep heavy eyes. in your sleep hazed state, you shuffle, moving backwards against him.

‘okay.. shit- don’t do that,’ strained as you shift against him, unknowingly brushing against his cock, ‘i’ll be back.. after you..’ he’s losing it a little now, ‘after you finish..’ lips pressed to your ear.

you were moving deliberately now, just ever-so-slightly rocking your hips back and forth, you could feel him growing against your ass.

‘i can’t..’ he groans, grip tightening on your hip,

‘please,’ you breathe, reaching backwards to find his mop of curls, taking a fistful for leverage as his own hip’s thrust into your backside, his low growls only spurring you on.

you had been on your own for so long now, could he really blame you?

eddie doesn’t leave for another hour, creeping out of your house with his head low and a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

-

the key turns in your door as you’re loading the dishwasher. you’d given steve a spare for emergencies but it seemed to get used for anything but.

he slinks into the kitchen where you stand with your back to him, ‘hey,’ already knowing who it was.

‘well hello,’ announcing his presence, something about his tone of voice already seemed off, he sounded short, annoyed almost, ‘how have you been?’

‘i’m good..’ you spin to face him, puzzled by his strange demeanour, ‘how are you?’

he’s holding onto something behind his back but you can’t quite catch a glimpse, ‘actually.. i’m a little pissed off,’ you can tell he’s not completely serious by the hint of a smile on his face.

‘hmm? why’s that?’

he looks around the room expectedly, ‘oh i don’t know.. you don’t have anything to tell me, do you?’ shaking his head, still gripping onto this mystery object.

‘no..’ narrowing your eyes, determining whether he knew what you thought he knew.

he did, he one hundred percent did. holy fuck. he’d figured you out already. eddie had opened his big, stupid mouth and told dustin, who would’ve told steve and god knows who else. fucking moron.

‘no? soo..’ his pulls the magazine from behind his back, flipping it to the page he’d already saved, ‘this isn’t real then?’ shoving the glossy pages into your face, ‘because to me.. this looks an awful lot like eddie.. at this very house,’ he jabs his finger at the pixelated image, ‘and this little blob here.. that’s you, no?’

you’re utterly gobsmacked. mouth hung open in pure shock. because that most definitely was eddie.. and your house.. and you. you hadn’t seen anyone with a camera, hell, you hadn’t seen anyone on the street at all.

‘and correct me if i’m wrong, but is this not our friend eddie leaving your house the next morning?’ showing the next image of him leaving your house the day after, hair unruly and messed up, holding his denim jacket in his arms as he climbs into his car.

your mouth moves but no words come out, croaking as you struggle to meet steve’s eyes. completely speechless, there was no feasible excuse. you had been caught with your pants down. literally.

‘i can explain,’ waving your hands around while steve stands smug against the kitchen counter. ‘..no i can’t,’ shoulders slumped as you blink at your best friend, no you really couldn’t. suppose you could’ve come up with some lie about a look-a-like you’d been seeing but that would’ve made you look particularly strange.

‘were you ever gonna tell me?’ he’s almost hurt that you hadn’t ran to him to tell him immediately. this was true best friend gossip and you’d kept him from it.

‘i was! steve.. i don’t even know what happened- he came over to apologise and then we were arguing and then.. then we had sex and it’s not my fault..’ you’re trying, and failing, to contain your smile, flashing your cheeky grin to your best friend in the hopes he would let this slide.

‘i can’t believe you didn’t tell me!’ jutting his bottom lip out, ‘so, you’re getting back together?’ his eyes sceptical yet sparkling with a sense of hope. you’re grateful that all he seems to care about is the fact you lied. or actually, withheld the truth as you preferred it.

‘no.. well.. no, we had dinner together yesterday and he might’ve stayed over but no..’ shaking your head, ‘he’s leaving again soon and we both know what happened last time..’ you shrug, leaning back against the counter, ‘i guess i don’t hate him now, that’s good isn’t it?’

steve looks perplexed, ‘wait wait wait.. so you’re just.. screwing around? and then he leaves again, that’s it? what’s the point?’ taking a seat at the small kitchen table, fully engrossed in the conversation.

‘i dunno.. i guess that’s it?’ you hadn’t really thought about the fact that he’d be leaving again, in fact, you hadn’t really had time to think much at all about what was happening.

you’d just sort of acknowledged that at some point he’d go back to california and you’d stay here and whatever was happening would.. end? it wasn’t as if you were going to be super upset about it like you once were. lots of people fuck their ex’s.. this was fine.

because that’s what this is, right?

just sex with an ex?

‘that’s it?’ steve reiterates, looking completely flabbergasted that the woman who once left the room whenever eddie munson’s name was mentioned was now being so casual about this.

‘yeah,’ you shrug, not wanting to make a massive deal out of it though you could always rely on steve to be over dramatic on your behalf.

‘no,’ he straightens up in the chair, ‘all of this can’t be for nothing,’ sounding utterly exasperated, ‘you two obviously belong together so why don’t you go for it? i could see you living it up out in la.. big house, big car-,’

you cut him off before he can divulge into his delusions any further, ‘i think you’re getting ahead of yourself steve,’ shaking your head at his ludicrous attitude.

you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it once or twice but it seemed silly to start imagining this crazy life together after all these years. he’d barely just made it into your good graces again, you were hardly going to run off to california with him. it was utter delusion.

‘okay okay..’ he scoffs, ‘but i still think you need to talk to him. i don’t want you getting hurt again, okay? just make sure that you’re both on the same page,’ nodding as he stands from his seat and begins to rummage through your cupboards for something to eat.

he was probably right and you knew it deep down. you weren’t keen on being the one to bring the conversation up, not after that first night. after you had sobbed in his arms in bed, letting him soothe you to sleep with a bunch of probable empty promises.

-

when eddie lets himself into your house a few hours later, steve’s eyebrows fly up his forehead but he doesn’t say a word. instead, he nods at the man, keeping his opinions to himself.

the pair of you resemble an old married couple, except you’re the grumpy old man with your wife cuddled into your side. your wife being steve that is.

‘oh.. is this uh, something that happens often?’ eddie asks, settling into the empty chair across from you. slightly miffed that steve was nestled into your side.

‘yup,’ you nod, smiling at him your chin resting on steve’s head. he hadn’t a reason to be jealous, you’d really rather poke your eyeballs out with a fork than do anything remotely sexual with steve.

‘right.. yeah okay,’ eddie says, looking perplexed but sitting back in the chair. if he was going to stick around then this would have to be something that he got used to. because you sure as hell weren’t going to stop being so close with steve for the guy that broke your heart at eighteen.

‘you want a drink?’ you ask, realising that you should probably be a good host even if it was only eddie.

‘yeah sure.’

you untangle yourself from steve and trundle off into the kitchen. steve takes this as the perfect opportunity to grill eddie on his intentions, sitting up straight and making sure that you were really gone before beginning his interrogation.

‘so.. you two?’

eddie shrugs, not wanting to get into it with steve after such a long day.

steve sighs, leaning toward eddie, ‘i’m gonna say this once.. but if you hurt her again, i will kill you,’ staring the other man down. contempt in his eyes. he was dead serious too.

‘i’m not- i’m not gonna hurt her,’ eddie sits up, praying that you’d hurry back with this damn drink.

‘i mean it eddie,’ raising his eyebrows, ‘you didn’t see how she was after you left.. i’m not going through that again, i’m not letting her go through that again.’

‘steve-,’ eddie blinks, stopping himself as you re-enter the room. hoping that you hadn’t heard their conversation, he’d only just got you to stop hating him. he wasn’t prepared to go back to that like, ever.

‘what’re you talking about?’ placing the bottle of beer in front of eddie and collapsing back into your spot on the couch.

‘football,’ steve answers quickly, groaning as he pushes himself off of the sofa, ‘i’m gonna head home, got work in the morning but i’ll see you tomorrow,’ he smiles, winking at you from above.

‘okay,’ you utter, sounding more like a question than a statement, watching carefully as he gathers his things without so much as a glance at eddie. you can only imagine what was actually said but that was truly none of your business.

you’d just grill eddie later to make sure steve hasn’t been too much of an asshole.

‘byee,’ you call out behind him, already eyeing a sheepish eddie. this’d probably be it. you’d known it was coming at some point, you just weren’t sure of when.

if steve’s sudden departure was anything to go off, you were probably right.

the door clicks shut and you turn your attention to eddie who was still sat on the solemn chair. oh god. maybe you had got a little used to having him around again and now to know that it’d all be coming to an abrupt end once again.. yeah you felt a tad shit.

‘what’d you say?’ you ask outright, it made zero sense to beat around the bush.

‘me?’ he looks almost offended, ‘i didn’t say shit.. didn’t get the chance to,’ but he’s smiling ever so slightly and your heart relaxes.

christ you were so stupid. letting him back into your life just to let him walk away a second time. perhaps you’d done something horrific in a past life to deserve this same fate twice.

‘so what did he say?’ you press, unsure of if your even wanted the answer.

eddie sighs before coming to collapse on the couch next to you, ‘it wasn’t important.. look, i wanna be honest with you,’ his hand comes to grab yours and you freeze, bracing yourself for what was inevitably going to come next. ‘you mean a lot to me and.. and i don’t want you to think that i don’t care or that i’m just leaving you again,’ his eyes are focussed on yours, full of what you hope is sincerity.

you don’t reply, instead you nod slightly and urge him to continue. this was it. the kicker. 

‘i’ve gotta go back to la next week,’ his grip tightens around your hand, ‘but i’m coming back as soon as i can, okay?’ he’s serious too and you’d like to believe him but if the past was anything to go by, you weren’t eager.

you nod silently. fuck this. once again, you were sat before eddie munson, listening to his plans to jet off to la. it felt like the cruelest case of deja-vu. if anything, you want to kick yourself for even allowing him to wiggle his way back into your heart. most people know better after the first time.

‘it’s three weeks.. maybe a month, but i’m coming back, i promise,’ he pleads, hanging his head low. he knows there’s absolutely nothing he could say to you that would make you believe him but he had to try.

you hum, frowning just a little before finally replying, ‘i’ve heard that before,’ not meaning to sound as snarky as you did, but it was true.

‘i’m serious, i’m not.. not gonna lose you again, i’ve learnt my lesson,’ his eyes are big and pleading and you’re thrown right back to being eighteen, listening to him convince you how going to la would be the best decision.

‘so.. what? you’re gonna come back to hawkins just to see me? i don’t-,’ you sigh, as much as you wanted to believe him, it just wasn’t plausible in your mind, ‘i just don’t understand, are we together or are you just coming back to fuck? you don’t have to, you know? i’ve made peace with it all and i’m fine.. you don’t have to lie to me anymore.’

if anyone was going to fuck this up, it would be you. that’s for certain.

‘what the fuck?’ he exclaims, genuinely flabbergasted, ‘this is me telling you that i’m serious about this.. about you,’ he takes your hand into his properly, scooting around to face you fully, ‘i love being here with you, and ella and there is nothing out in la worth more than this,’ you think he might just start crying, or you might. or perhaps both of you.

you sniff, not wanting to speak in fear of bursting into hysterics. it was all just so confusing and weird. you’d grown accustomed to eddie being on the other side of the country and now suddenly he was back in your life with what seemed like a a declaration of love. it was just too much to handle. and maybe you blame yourself a little, for not truly thinking about the implications of fucking your ex that had abandoned you years prior. but now it all just seemed to be hurtling in the most intense direction.

you were the one that had told him to stay after all. because really, you could’ve kicked him out, refused to ever even acknowledge him again. but you hadn’t.

‘are you telling me the truth?’ is all that you manage to squeak out. baring resemblance to a small child.

you really must’ve looked pathetic, eyes brimming with tears, bottom lip quivering as you hold in the implosion of emotions. it’s always scary being vulnerable with someone, let alone someone that once meant so much to you.

he still did. as much as you’re absolutely petrified to admit it, he’d weaselled his way back into your heart and now here you are, a mess of emotions and perplexing feelings that are too complicated to handle.

‘i promise you,’ he sighs, clearly fed up of your whining, ‘i’m coming back this time.’

and maybe you’re stupid. maybe you’re still hung up on some high school relationship that ended long ago but you can’t help it, you nod.

idiotically believing him because what else can you do after letting him into your home and your heart again.

[iluvmattsbeard]

where were you? (m.s)

master list

matt sturniolo x reader

VERY STRONG WARNING: SELF HARM/angst/swearing

(please do not read if you are highly sensitive with this subject.)

preview: you were the new student at school. you kept to yourself which caught Matt's eye. he was determined to figure you out.

a/n: this one hits close to home. if you are struggling with your mental health, know you are not alone. you are here for a reason. these type of emotions are tricky to figure out and no one should have to deal with them all by themselves. YOU ARE WORTH MORE THAN YOU THINK. I thank the triplets for bringing me back to life, especially Matt for shining light on the subject and being so genuine.

it was early in the morning at school. you just moved to Boston a few weeks ago. you were suppose to start school right away but you couldn't find the strength to do so. you were dreading being in a new environment and meeting new people. today, you had no choice but to show up. the school was blowing up your grandparents phones asking when you will be coming in. so today, you finally showed up.

you walked into the school's office getting your schedule. "name?" the lady at the front desk asks. "y/n l/n" you spoke out quietly looking around. she nods as she looks through a drawer pulling out a small sheet of paper, also grabbing a map. she hands you them as she speaks, "welcome to our school. enjoy your first day!" she says with a warm smile. you give a weak closed mouth smile as you thank her.

you look at the map as you find your way to your first class. taking small steps as possible still dreading being there. you finally stop in front of the classroom door as you put your hand on the handle gently, taking a small breather before stepping inside.

as soon as you walk in, all eyes land on you. you stand there uncomfortably with your heart racing fast. you took their looks feeling judged already. "hello! you must be y/n. correct?" you nod. "great. nice having you here. you may take a seat anywhere." you try to avoid looking around as you make your way straight to the back, sitting in an empty seat. you sat next to a brown haired boy not really paying attention to his face. "hey" you hear him whisper. you turn to look at him automatically catching his blue eyes. "hi" you whisper back looking away after. "i'm Matt" he says still having his eyes on you. as you don't respond, he continues to speak, "uh... I just wanted to introduce myself since we'll be sitting next to each other for the rest of the quarter. we usually do lots of partner work so, I was just hoping to get to know you so this isn't awkward."

you look at him with a blank stare. you appreciated his effort. "I'm y/n" you respond. he gives a soft smile as he looks at the paper laying on your desk. "can I take a look?" he asks pointing at your schedule. you nod sliding it over to him. "I can help show you around." he offers looking up from the paper and back towards you. you shake your head a bit before speaking, "no it's fine." grabbing your schedule. "i'll figure it out." "well I would like to anyways to make you feel comfortable." he suggests. you knew he wasn't going to stop pushing so you later on agree.

Matt walked with you during every passing period before lunch. he showed you where the bathrooms were, where the library was, and where the cafeteria was before walking you to your next class. the last class before lunch. "that actually helps a lot" you tell him with the same weak smile from earlier. "i'm glad" he says with a smile before walking away. you walk into class as you sit down looking at the clock already wanting the time to go faster.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

you were finally home as you stand in front of your bathroom mirror sighing. you looked at yourself for a bit. analyzing your face noticing your heavy eye bags. you suffered from the worst insomnia. every night you felt yourself being so tired. but when you shut your eyes, your mind keeps you awake with thoughts you wish you could avoid.

“y/n?” you hear your grandmother say behind the door as she knocks. you open the door revealing her with a gentle smile. “hi y/n. how was school?” she asks. “it went great.” you reply lying through your teeth. you had no choice but to lie. you didn’t feel the need to throw your negativity onto her. you always kept your own thoughts to yourself. especially around your grandparents. you didn’t want to worry them or push them away. they were all you had since your parents disappeared with no warning a few years ago. that’s when everything went down hill for you.

you had this repetitive thought in your head telling you how much of a disappointment you were that even your own parents couldn’t stay. you slowly lost yourself and your ability to socialize.

when night time came around, you laid in bed in the pitch black dark as you let out a soft sigh shutting your eyes. you were practically begging at this point for a good night’s rest. but you couldn’t. you open your eyes as you get up and walk to the bathroom locking it. you opened the drawer and focus your eye on something you were use to. picking it up and letting out a shaky breath.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

it’s been a few days now since you’ve been at school. every day had you feeling drained. you even still felt like you were being constantly judged even though people’s stares soon disappeared. you still felt the need to be on your toes. it was lunch time. you walked out of class as you see Matt. “hey y/n. you want to join me for lunch?” he asks. you avoid eye contact with him walking as you speak, “i guess” he nods with a smile as he starts talking about how his day has been so far with you just listening.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

you and Matt have been talking more at school. you told him where you were before moving to Boston, you shared common interests, and he talked about his brothers a lot. you were slowly getting used to having him around.

as you and Matt sit in class, you both just sat there doing your work. it was pretty silent in class indicating everyone was focused. you were minding your business until one of your classmates accidentally bumped into your table causing your phone to fall onto the ground. you lean down in your chair reaching for your it as the sleeve of your hoodies goes up slightly. Matt also went to reach for your phone but he stopped himself when he catches a glimpse of your slightly raised sleeve.

Matt’s POV

when i almost reached down to pick up y/n’s phone, i can’t help but notice her sleeve going up a bit revealing her wrist covered in red slits. it stopped me in my tracks as i sat there in shock. she didn’t notice at all that i seen. i look away as i continue to do my work, or pretend, having the image stuck on my mind. why would she do that?

End of Matt’s POV

when school finally ends, you walk out the doors as you get stopped by Matt. “hey y/n!” you turn to look at him. “oh hi” you respond. “you said you walk home so, can i give you a ride?” he asks. “no it’s okay. i like to walk.” you reply with a blank stare. Matt has now been eyeing you closely after what happened.

“come on” he says grabbing your hand softly with a slight smile pulling you to where his car is. “Matt seriously it’s no problem” you say. he opens the door for you looking at you before speaking, “get in” you step inside his car thanking him. “well that was nice of him”you thought to yourself.

the car ride was mostly silent as the only sound playing was his music slightly low. you notice he would glance at you from time to time. after a bit, he pulls up in front of your house putting the car in park. “thank you Matt. i really appreciate it.” you spoke looking at him. “anytime y/n.” he responds smiling. before you completely got out the car he stops you. “oh wait.” you turn around to look at him again. “is it okay to ask for your number?” he asks hoping you would say yes. “um.. sure.” you reply hesitantly. you never really gave anybody your number before. but Matt has been the first to ask for your number in the first place. he hands you his phone and you type it in. he thanks you with a smile and you just nod before going inside.

it was later in the night when you found yourself on your bathroom floor with a blank face. you look down and lift up your sleeves as you flinch a bit from the fabric sticking onto your fresh cuts. you looked at it feeling numb. you had your reasons for doing what you did. but nobody seemed to care to ask. you hid it from your grandparents because you didn’t want to crush them. they basically raised you when your parents couldn’t. they didn’t need to feel like they failed because that’s far from the truth. they did everything right. you just truly were stuck in your own head. that’s why the only comfort you were use to was picking up your razor blade.

you sigh as you let your thoughts consume you. you didn’t want to feel this way anymore. you just wanted to escape from your own head. you pick up the blade but hear your phone buzz.

unknown number

‘hey y/n it’s matt’

you pick up your phone as you reply back.

Y/N

‘hi matt’

as soon as you know it, you two were texting all night distracting you before going to bed.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

it’s been quite some time now you’ve been in Boston. even though you had Matt, every single day that goes by got you feeling weaker and weaker. Matt would distract you sometimes. he still had no clue what you’ve been going through. besides the one time he’s seen it but never brought it up.

Matt’s POV

i showed up to school anticipating excitement knowing i get to see y/n. she’s honestly the best person to talk to. it still crosses my mind the thought of her hurting herself but lately i haven’t seen any other signs. but when i arrived to class, she wasn’t there.

Matt

‘where are you?’

i text her but i get no response. i decided to wait and not think much of it until i realized she wasn’t texting back all day.

Matt

‘y/n are you okay?’

‘answer me y/n’

‘why aren’t you at school? why aren’t you replying?’

no response.

when school ends, i decided to get in my car and drive to her house. it was starting to scare me.

End of Matt’s POV

you sat on your bathroom floor with your head leaned against your bath tub, looking at the ceiling. your door wasn’t closed all the way so when Matt walked into your room and saw you in your bathroom, he felt his heart drop. you turned your head as you sat up, “Matt? how’d you get in here?” you ask confused. he walks up to you as he shuts the bathroom door.

“your grandma let me in.” he says. “why weren’t you responding to my texts? what’s wrong?” he asks. you avoid eye contact as you speak, “sorry. just didn’t feel like going.” all he does is stare at you before sitting down in front of you. “talk to me” he says quietly not pulling his eyes away from you. “there’s nothing to talk about?” you say in a confused tone. “clearly there is. i know you don’t like school but you will show up. how come not today?” he questions. “like i said, i didn’t feel like going.” you respond looking at your hands. “are you at least okay?” Matt asks with worry plastered on his face.

“of course i am” you say looking at him with a weak smile. “why wouldn’t i be?” he stays silent as he grabs your hand softly. taking his other hand to raise your sleeve slowly, with him looking at it frozen. you yank your hand away as you get up pulling the sleeve back down.

“what the fuck are you doing?” you ask as you feel yourself heat up. he stands up as well before speaking, “y/n why didn’t you tell me?” “what was there to tell you Matt?” you say in annoyance. “you doing that y/n. why didn’t you just tell me?” he asks with a somber face. “i saw them before in class when you reached for your phone. i never said anything because i didn’t want to pressure you.” “what was i suppose to tell you Matt?!” you say raising your voice. “it’s none of your business or your concern!”

“y/n please talk to me. i’m worried about you.” he says trying to grab your hand but you step back. “don’t touch me! i don’t need you feeling sorry for me.” you tell him. “i care about you. i get you like to keep things to yourself but i’m hear to listen.” he says. you let out a scoff, “this is unbelievable.” you say. “what’s so unbelievable about me wanting to be here for you?” you look at him with your face burning up from rage after his response. “i didn’t ask for you to be here! you should’ve minded your own business.” you exclaim. “i felt like i needed to be here y/n. for you. i don’t want you going through this alone. it pains me to know you just keep quiet.”

“because it’s none of your fucking business Matt! it’s my shit to keep to myself. not for you to hear. it pains you? well how do you think i feel!” you yell out. “y/n please.” he says quietly. “no Matt! i want you gone. no one has ever been here for me before and i sure as hell don’t need anybody now! especially you being here telling me you care when you don’t know shit!”

“yeah i don’t know shit y/n. that’s why i’m here trying to prove to you that i want to be here for you!” he says keeping eye contact. “Matt just get out!” you yell. “i’m not going anywhere y/n.” he says getting close to you trying to hold you but you push your hands against his chest trying to pull away from him, repeatedly screaming out, “get out! get out! GET OUT!” but he doesn’t listen and you eventually give into his hold as you break down crying with your legs giving out. Matt goes down as well holding you as he leans back against the sink cabinet wrapping his arms around you, embracing you in a hug.

he rubs your back softly as you sob in his chest. “i got you y/n. i’m right here for you.” he says reassuringly, resting his chin on your head. “i’m here to listen.” he pulls away as he lifts up your chin looking at the tears roll down your cheeks. he wipes them away and tucks your hair behind your ear. “i don’t know what’s wrong with me. i want the thoughts to go away and i try to put it into words but i just don’t get it.” you say sadly. he holds your hand as he speaks, “i know it can be difficult. i’m not asking you to tell me everything now because i know this is new for you. take all the time you need. but, i will be here. for you.” you look into his eyes as more tears stream down your face from his kind words. “you’ll be okay i promise.” he finishes, wiping your tears away again. you wrap your arms around his neck hugging him as he wraps his around your waist.

you knew you were safe with him. he validated that for you. “where were you when i needed someone the most?” you whisper out. “i could’ve avoided all this.”

“now they’re just going to turn into ugly scars…” you add on. he pulls away from the hug as he lifts up your sleeves. you gulp as he looks at them. he pulls your arms up gently to his face as he leaves soft kisses on your self inflicted wounds.

“don’t say that. when they turn into scars, i will look at them and tell you how incredibly beautiful they are.” he says. “you’re here for a reason y/n. these that will soon turn into scars, will show how you’ll progress to be stronger.”

you smile softly not even remembering the last time you actually let out a real smile. “thank you Matt.” you say. he smiles as he leaves a kiss on your forehead. “don’t thank me. i’ll always be here.” he says leaving the both of you still on the bathroom floor embracing each other.

A/N: i hope you guys enjoyed this Matt imagine. please always spread kindness and positivity!

[icypopz]

when he gets jealous ♡

↬ request from anon ; Can I request for zayne? Please make a fic of him and mc where he is jealous and they making up after

↬ notes ; zayne x gn!reader

↬ from ice ; ohhh hell yeah we love jealous men in this house 🔥🔥🔥 also i wish the three LIs could meet in-game but since it won't happen i'll settle for making it happen in fanfic 😋 also did u guys see sylus because what the actual fuck HE'S SO FINE!!!

↬ warning(s) ; suggestive at the end

please reblog ! it helps a lot :)

zayne is a very secure man. he's the youngest recipient of the starcatcher award, one of the most talented surgeons to ever grace the halls of akso hospital, and he considers himself a rather good boyfriend - all this means he has absolutely no reason to get jealous. at least that's what he tells himself when he sees you happily talking to another man outside your apartment. the tall blonde smiles softly at you as you chatter away, and it's only when zayne clears his throat that you notice him.

"oh, this is my boyfriend, zayne! zayne, meet xavier - he lives in the apartment next to mine." you smile as you intertwine your fingers with zayne, blissfully unaware of how the temperature in the room just dropped to subzero. "hello." zayne's reply is curt as he scans xavier, taking in his messy hair and casual outfit, a stark contrast to zayne's sharply pressed suit and vest. xavier just nods at him before waving to you, "i think i'll go have a nap now... have fun on your date." with that, xavier leaves you and zayne alone in the corridor, where you grin at him, "let's go plushie hunting!"

after way too many hours at the arcade and practically a mountain of plushies to show for it, you're both back in zayne's car for him to drive you home. just then, your phone pings with a notification, and you can't help but giggle as you read the message, "zayne, look at this. xavier loves feeding the birds at his apartment." zayne looks at the image, which is an admittedly funny picture of a bird falling into a water dish, but then he registers the second half of your statement, "xavier? oh." his grip on the steering wheel tightens, his knuckles whitening as he internally rolls his eyes.

this time, you notice how the atmosphere becomes slightly awkward. "zayne? is something wrong?" when he doesn't reply, you tilt your head to look at him, noticing the small furrow between his brows and the barest hint of a pout on his lips. as you're wracking your brain for what could have upset him, it clicks. "zayne~" your voice has that familiar teasing lilt to it, and zayne is already planning his rebuttal when you ask, "are you jealous~?" that catches him by surprise - so that's the feeling weighing heavy on his chest. he clears his throat, eyes fixed firmly on the road ahead, "perhaps."

now it's your turn to be surprised - you weren't expecting him to admit it so candidly. you laugh delightedly as he pulls into your apartment parking lot, "that's so cute!" "you have a peculiar definition of cute, then." zayne scoffs, turning the engine off and still refusing to look at you. you click your tongue affectionately before leaning over to pull his cheek, "you're so annoying! but i guess even the great dr zayne gets jealous then, hm?" his ears are red, and he just settles for a simple, "i suppose so." "you don't need to worry about xavier," you press a kiss to his cheek, "you're the only one for me." then, a wicked smirk curves your lips as you whisper, "and if you come upstairs with me, i'll show you i mean it."

it's safe to say zayne is no longer jealous of xavier - he just hopes your neighbour isn't going to file any noise complaints any time soon.

✧ thank you for reading ! if you have a request, feel free to send it in 🌠

© icypopz 2024. do not repost or modify in any way.

[xeeljii]

SHE'S MY COLLAR

I clear my system, I don't need no other  This is my persona, secret lover, she’s my collar 

WARNING! Explicit RPF! 

EDIT! Prequel available, you can read that first if you want.

Summary: You don’t want a relationship and he does, he should know better to keep falling in your trap but the feel of your soft legs wrapping around his hips is too tempting to quit so like a fool he keeps coming back to you.

Word count:  5.4k

CW: 18+, f! reader, friends with benefits, mentions of past sex, mutual pining, set in Berlin but reader is not specified to be German or anything, no specific body descriptions. 

You had met Joost some months ago, before the incident and before he blew up too. There was an instant connection. Not just psychical but he was easy to talk to, so funny and kind, really unlike anyone you had ever met. He was incredibly charismatic and the people around him seemed to adore him, you honestly had a crush as soon as you started talking but you had an amazing poker face too so you did well to hide it. The night you first had run into each other you were at a private event at some club in Berlin that a well connected friend had invited you to. He caught your eye and apparently so did you. The rest of the night was a whirlwind, you drank heavily, danced wildly and laughed together until your jaw started hurting, all to end up back at the place where he was staying.

You hadn’t even slept together that first time, well you had in the sense that he had let you sleep on his bed, wearing his clothes. However, in the morning when you woke up  he had fucked you within an inch of your life, still heavy with sleep but so deliciously slow savoring every thrust. He was a generous lover, always preoccupied with your pleasure first and he was a fast learner, sweet and eager to please. You liked fixating on the many beauty marks and tattoos that littered his body, enjoyed sharing a shower together and falling asleep on the couch after a make out session. It was never awkward, it just felt so good from the get go. The lines were not entirely clear, you would have casual sex together but also go out for lunch, and hang out like normal friends. You had bought him his own toothbrush for your place at some point, he didn’t say anything as not to fluster you but he appreciated it. He didn’t leave right after he finished, always made sure you came first too, he liked cuddling and he would help you clean up softly between your legs when your limbs were still too heavy for a bath. He was usually in town only for a day or the weekend at most but he made an effort to see you every time. He would bring food to have dinner before trying to get you in bed, he also brought you other trinkets form his travels and always texted and called you when he was away so you wouldn’t forget him in the meantime, as if that was even possible. It was nice but it made your heart hurt a bit, scared and expectant for when the fantasy would stop and your idilic “friendship” would end.  

You felt a little out of place in his life, he would always invite you to his shows and there you would see how you were not the only one enamored by him. It was fine really, you weren’t together, there was no expectations and furthermore you had no right to even feel jealous when it was you who coyly stopped his advances every time he tried moving the goalpost from casual to serious. He couldn’t complain, he felt so at ease when he was with you, you were smart, funny and beautiful, he really felt you came straight out of one of his dreams. But you seemed so far away at the same time, perhaps exactly like an illusion you wouldn’t let him get any closer. He knew you had a life of your own, friends and a job you loved but he also wished you would actually take him up on the multiple offers to fly you out with him, yet you never did.  Through the months you had known each other he had found himself in your bed countless times, he liked it more than taking you back to whatever place he was staying at. It felt like home in a way that made him greedy. Your place was nice and tidy, a little on the old side but it just made it more charming in his eyes. He wanted to bring you back to his home, to show you around the places he liked and where he grew up, to have you on his bed waking up every morning, yet for whatever reason you wouldn’t let him. Still, like an idiot knowing he was playing for the losing team he kept coming back to you every time.

One of the many nights you had gone out drinking together you ended up, as usual, getting separated from the group and wandering the streets alone, just the two of you, hand in hand. There was never an uncomfortable silence with you, his thumbs traced shapes on the side of your hand while you pulled him seemingly aimlessly under the street lamps. “Look!” You said happily pulling at his hand to follow, there was what seemed like a little run down playground and some old looking photo booths, you pulled him inside one. You both squeezed into the small bench, you were almost sitting on his lap. “You have to put the bill here” You pointed at a metallic slip. “I don’t have cash on me” He replied. “Oh! you owe me big time then” You said smiling poking out your tongue at him, you pulled some bills from your pockets and the machine started making strange noises before a bright light blinded both of you. You immediately erupted into shared laughter “Okay, quick pose!” The machine kept snatching pictures one after the other and you kept feeding it money amused. At some point he became too distracted by the faces you were making and didn’t even bother looking towards the camera, he thinks that is probably when he truly fell for you. You had noticed his stare and looked down at him. “You are wasting my photo money if you don’t pose!” You whined, he couldn’t bring himself to speak a single syllable, he just pulled you further into his lap and kissed you deeply. It felt like the world had started and stopped right there inside that photo booth. After an eternity in your lips he softly spoke up again.

“Can I walk you home?” He said a breath away from your lips.

You nodded, face red and pupils dilated “Yeah” Your voice was so pretty when you were breathless, he couldn’t wait to have you moaning under him or over him, however you wanted, he was just a fool at your mercy.

Before you left he had picked up the photos you almost forgot and shoved them in his back pocket, back home in the Netherlands he had carefully placed them on the drawer of his nightstand and kept coming back to them on days when he was feeling particularly homesick for your arms. 

Now he was in Berlin again, for a show, you knew because he had texted you days before asking you to come. You had told him you couldn’t, that there was some important work meeting you had to prepare for. Truth was, it wasn’t that important, but you were trying to put some distance between the two of you. Every time you had sex it became more tender more gentle, addicting in a way you knew you couldn’t allow yourself, it felt like making love. You felt bad about not getting to see him, guilty about the disappointed little face he made in a selfie he sent you as a reply, but you felt it was for the better. Like this, soon he would get tired and move on so he could become a fun memory that hopefully wouldn’t hurt you too much when you thought about him years down the line.

But you weigh heavy on his mind and on his heart and when the show is over and the alcohol is all gone he feels an impulse that gets him to his feet. He wants to see you. He knows you are busy but also distantly feels like you are avoiding him, like you caught on the fact that he is falling, or more like already fell, for you. But so what if he likes you? What if he is in love for real? What you don’t know cant hurt you and if he gets hurt in the process then that is fine, it doesn’t bother him, maybe only bothers a little bit. He knows the way to your apartment by heart, could probably get there blindfolded, has been there so many times he feels it is a second home, wants it to be a second home. He is drunk and deeply melancholic, he is feeling down on his luck but maybe a beautiful woman can save him, but only if it is you. The venue he is at is luckily close enough to your pace, he makes his way on foot, somewhere along the night it had started raining, fitting for his mood. He is only wearing a light hoodie, that quickly gets soaked, he honestly can’t even feel cold he is just moving on instinct trying to reach you. Soon enough he gets to the entrance of your building and pulls his phone out, texts you before his brain can stop him. 

You are rolling around in bed not able to fall asleep at all, not worried about the stupid meeting but knowing that Joost is in town and your idiot past self denied him makes you feel terrible. You should just enjoy the moment as much you can, take everything he is willing to give you and when you get thrown away there will be more fun memories. You don’t really know why you are tying to be the responsible one in this situation, you should just bet everything on your losing horse and let future you worry about how to deal with the unpleasant consequences. Right as you unsuccessfully try to close your eyes again and let the soft rain outside lull you to sleep, you hear the little ping of your phone on the nightstand. You already know who it is without having to check in the way your stomach does a summersault. But still, you pick up the phone and read “I’m outside, can I come in?”. Idiot, it is raining, he probably doesn’t even have an umbrella. You have to let him in or he will catch a cold, it is a kindness really, you have no hidden motives, you are just being nice, your hands are tied. You try to convince yourself as you immediately stand from the bed and walk quickly towards the door. 

You ring him in and wait right by the door with your heart threatening to pound out of your chest. He all but races pathetically upstairs, two steps at the time, like he can’t be fast enough to reach you. You wait on held breath and you hear his heavy footsteps right outside but wait until he knocks, then you make a show of waiting a few seconds, pretending like you are just getting up and open the door slowly rubbing your eyes as if you had really been asleep.  You move aside to make way for him.

“Come in” you mumble after a small yawn leaves your mouth, he walks in and takes his shoes off, then you notice that he is dripping wet. “Joost did you walk here?” You drop the sleepy act immediately.

“It wasn’t that far” he mumbles looking away, there is a small blush blooming on the high of his cheeks.

You stand in front of him taking his hoodie off “Go get in the shower, you are gonna catch a cold”.

He does as he is told there is a strange cozy feeling in this interaction that goes straight to his heart.

In the shower he keeps trying to come up with what to say to convince you to date him seriously. For a songwriter he feels he is not very good at this words things right now or maybe he is too drunk or maybe he cares too much about what you will think of him. He gets under the warm water, reaches for your soap, not the expensive one because you will get mad that he used it, but the one you use for everyday, his favorite one. He likes this, smelling like you, it makes him feel like he is a little bit a part of you, makes him wish you would become a little bit a part of him too. After a few minutes you open the door of the bathroom to drop a warm towel for him and take his clothes to dry. You say nothing, it feels too domestic, like it is a built up habit the two of you have. He wants to keep you all to himself. He never asks if you are seeing someone else and you do the same, it is common curtesy but he feels the question itching at the back of his throat every time he sees you start dressing right after you are done. He could take care of you, he makes good money, make it so you could be at every one of his shows. The rational part of his brain thinks he is being cruel. You love your job and your career, it would be like keeping a bird on a cage he can’t bear the though while at the same time he just keeps having this vivid fantasy of coming home to you every day, of waking up by your side, seeing your tooth brush next to his, have your hair clog the drain of his shower, actually buy groceries to have at home and not just the pre-made meals and beer he is used to. He wants to treat you right and be good for you and yet you are standing firmly on your side denying him even the chance. It hurts him, he feels a little inadequate for as much as he is sure of himself he still wants to ask what is stopping you from taking a chance on him. 

Outside you try to fix the bed a little bit after putting his clothes on the dryer. You feel electricity right under your skin, to have him naked in your bathroom, the man that just few hours ago had so many people screaming his name. It feels like a beautiful secret in your tongue, only for you. The reality is you like him as much as he does you, you really do, you are eager to see him every chance you can and your chest start beating so hard when you get a text from him. Since you met there has been rarely a week you go without talking and it feels nice, you want to keep it going. But he is a budding star, when you met him you could see it, that he was made of something otherworldly it was just waiting below the surface for the whole world to see and now they finally did. You are so incredibly proud of him, but it is exactly because of it that you can’t have him. He is young, can have so much fun with as many people as he wants, you don’t understand why he would want to tie himself down to you, knowing you can’t even follow him around like he wishes. He should be free, you would feel like you are cutting his wings too early and you can’t bear the thought of him deciding half way through that you are boring, that having a girlfriend is boring and the world is his oyster and he should just enjoy himself as much as he wants without you stopping him. He is not that type, not at all and you know it, but it still won’t let you take the step even when he has his hand out expectantly waiting on you. 

You hear the water from the shower stop, you are probably not getting lucky tonight and that is okay, you just like having him near you, with the weather now he works as a personal heather. You haven’t really just slept together without sex as an excuse, not since the first time at least, and it makes you a little nervous. You think briefly about changing into nicer pajamas but he already saw the ones you are wearing so no point, you feel a rush of nervousness raise on your body. Before you get more anxious, he comes out of the bathroom, hair leaving little droplets of water on your floor as he walks. White towel hanging low from his hips, you appreciate the softness of his belly, the happy trail that disappears under the towel, the way the hair there is darker than anywhere else in his body and even more noticeable when wet. You can’t help but scan all over his body, ogle at his chest, his soft pecs and the thin hair on them that looks white usually and now a dark golden yellow, his wide shoulders littered with freckles because he can’t be bothered to ever use sunscreen, he is so beautiful it hurts. Without the excuse of sex you feel shy looking and maybe like a little bit of a creep, you try to avert your gaze. If he notices the staring he says nothing about it and slowly walks towards you. You are holding a towel in your hands “Let me help you” You say raising your hands above his head, he stands right in front of you making you look up, you start gently moving your hands to dry his hair a little, he places his big hands on your hips and pulls you closer, wants to kiss you so bad but stops himself, he doesn’t want to get kicked out in the middle of the night when your unmade bed looks so delicious and inviting. You feel your cheeks heat up under his gaze, his thumbs drawing circles in the exposed skin under your sleeping camisole, you want to make this last forever. “Done” You say almost in a whisper, you throw the towel on chair nearby. Almost on instinct you raise to your tip toes and kiss softly at his cheek, too late you realize what you just did, infinitely more intimate than what you should, you just look away quickly and clear your throat.

“Lets get some sleep yeah?” You say turning around to hide your blushing face, you climb on the bed and raise the comforter, patting at the empty space beside you motioning for him to move.

You make it so incredibly hard not to like you and he is such a weak man. He takes a few steps before reaching the edge of the bed, takes the towel off and throws it to the chair before climbing up behind you. 

Your breath gets caught in your throat, of course he would sleep naked he has no other clothes here but it also makes you fight a great urge to stare at his pretty dick hanging heavy between his legs. You turn over on bed and have your back face him, you cannot deal with any more of this tonight so you will just have to avoid it and try to figure out the best diplomatic solution on the morning. As you start to settle down you feel him move behind you, for a moment he stops and then you feel his strong arms wrap around your torso and pull you to his chest. Your heart is beating wildly, he has to be able to feel it trough the thin fabric of your pajamas that is doing very little to separate you from the heat of his body, you can’t be expected to sleep like this. He thinks even if you were surgically sewn together it would not be close enough, you feel so soft under his touch so tender he wants to, no, needs to fall asleep just like this for the rest of his life. 

You close your eyes really hard trying to ignore everything around, you still actually need to sleep. There is a long moment of silence that feels like an eternity, then you feel him take a deep breath. You fear you know what is coming and you fear you are not strong enough right now to stop it.

“Why don’t you wanna date me?” He asks, the words come down on you heavy like rocks, you can feel a strain in his voice, you hate to be the reason why his usual cheerful tone is fully gone.

“Do we really have to have this conversation again?” You say your eyebrows knitting in worry.

“Yeah actually I want an answer.” He swiftly turns you around like you are weightless, he looks directly at you, deep blue eyes expectantly, you feel yourself shiver under his gaze, the tension is rapidly building up, you want to put distance between you but he has your legs trapped, tangled between his.

“Joost you know-” He cuts you off before you can give him the usual excuses.

“I’m serious about you, about us, would it be so terrible to date me?” He has a kicked puppy kind of face, you accidentally laugh at his dramatics, he adores that sound so much never tires of it. You snake your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer into a short kiss trying to distract him, he deepens the kiss eager explore you mouth, all but melts under your touch and you far too soon pull away before he can do more.

“You are hard” You mumble against his lips in between giggles.

He rolls his eyes at you, he is trying to be serious here “Ignore it, I am in the room of the woman I like where everything smells like her, give me a break.”

If there was any light in the room you would be able to see how deeply red his face is now.

“What are you a dog?” You say shaking your head entertained by his reactions.

You try to pull away but he grabs your hand again and rests it square against his heart like this way he will make you understand. “I really like you” He is not letting it go this time, you shake your head lightly again and pull your hand away, you cannot face this proximity, you untangle yourself from his embrace and raise into a sitting position, he does the same. 

“Joost you are great, really I don’t think I’ve ever met someone like you and I don’t think I ever will again.” There is a horrible pause, he knows what is coming next, the awful fear of rejection becoming reality far too quick. You continue “But you are traveling all over the world and that is so cool, I just can't be part of that.” He doesn’t understand why you look so sad when he is the one being let down here.

“We could make it work you know, phones exists and I come here all the time, it is only like an hour by plane” He is pleading at this point, feels so pathetic doing so but can’t stop himself. You make an effort to meet his gaze, he is being so sincere it feels bad not to.

“You could have someone new every night, at every city. You are young, you can enjoy yourself, you don’t have to tie yourself down to me, it would be such a waste-”

“Not to me, not when it is you” He is indignant at your proposal, he hates the idea that you could be so easily replaced, he feels like an idiot, like none of his efforts to make you understand how precious you are to him have reached you.

“I don’t want that” He is so exasperated now, it is like you are not listening to any of the words he is saying or not believing them which is even worse. “I don’t want any of that I don’t like it, I know I could but I don’t want it. I like you, I want you”. He pauses for a second to give himself strength to get it all out "It is my business and you can reject me if you want but you don’t get to tell me what I should do” He feels offended that you seem to not understand at all.

You had never seen him this angry. He goes speechless wracking his brain trying to come up with something else to say to convince you, maybe drinking before coming here was bad, he should do this sober, maybe bring some flowers and wear the blazer you like, maybe then you would not throw him out like an old toy. He is looking at you waiting for anything, his eyes are glossy, his lips almost tremble into a pout, his hands are clenched into nervous fists at his sides, he is pleading and you can’t help but reach out for him too. Fuck it, if you are gonna ever get hurt you want it to be him, if you get heart broken you want it to be him, whatever happens good or bad, you want it to be him, he is worth everything.

You close the distance between the two of you again, move to sit on his lap just to have him as close as possible, he has become a rock in your bed, feels like if he breathes he will break the spell and you will disappear right in front of his eyes. You grab at his hand, unclenching his fist with you fringes, softly stretching his palm and placing it right above your fast beating heart before speaking again.

“I really like you too Joost” His eyes shine impossibly bright, he looks at you stupefied, he can’t quiet belive what he is finally hearing, he feels your heart beating fast right under his palm, hard proof that you are just as gone for him as he is for you, his brain is trying to catch up to what is happening, but you help him.

You caress his cheek with your other hand and bring him into a sweet kiss. Your lips move together slowly like you are kissing again for the first time, his tongue pushes softly into your mouth, he wants to taste you, he traces the back of your teeth, you suck softly on his plump bottom lip, you smile into the kiss and pull away gently but continue to pepper soft kisses on his lips, on his  jaw, on his cheeks. You wonder if he was always this handsome or has your love made him even more beautiful now. He pulls you closer hugs you thigh, happy just to be in your embrace again and feel like he truly belongs there. He chases after your lips kisses you like he is drowning and you are the only source of air, he feels the softness of your mouth it takes him back to the first night he met you, he wants to stay here forever, live on this moment until the end of time, only you and him in a soft unmade bed kissing for eternity. 

Finally with lips kissed raw you pull away leaving one last small peck on the little beauty mark underneath his bottom lip. He holds you close, traces soft circles with his palms on your back under the camisole savoring every inch of exposed skin he can touch. You let him relax under you for a bit before you speak again, with a new world of prospects opening in front of you you want to share some more ideas with him now that all the cards are on the table.

“You know…my company is thinking of opening a new branch in Nethera-”

“Yes” he cuts you off immediately, you laugh at his eagerness.

“I didn’t finish talking” You push the hair away from his pretty face so you can see him better.

“You can stay with me yeah? I have a guest room you can stay there if you feel more comfortable, I am not trying to imply we have to sleep together but I mean we could if you wanted to” He is running his mouth all nervous and impatient like he is just a few steps away from winning the race of his life, you don’t reply, all too amused at his monologue, but it makes him fear he might have overstepped and scared you too fast with commitments. “I mean, until you get settled and you find an apartment, I could help you with that…” He trails off and looks away shyly, then looks up again holding your gaze. “But you could stay there too if you wanted, it could be your home too.”

He looks up at you from under white eyelashes, eyes full of hope. The possibilities seem endless, at this moment you feel like you can touch the sky with your hands and that if you couldn’t reach he would pull it down for you. You nod speechless, bite your lip and kiss him again, because you can, because he is yours. 

You keep playing with his hair as rest his head on your chest, feels your heart beat under his ear, he wants to memorize it, now knows he has all the time in the world to do so. You move slightly on his lap.

“But we really do have to sleep now” You say, your voice sounds suddenly so groggy, every worry you have had the past months, that would keep you up at night, seems to have melted away in an instant and your body is feeling so tired and heavy.

He nods against you and moves you softly into laying down position again. He wants to start getting used to taking care of you, he thinks it will come easy, already feels so satisfied with so little, he lets you settle on the bed then moves behind you again snaking his arms around your torso pushing his palms under your shirt to feel the soft expanses of your belly as you breath in and out, you let him, between his strong arms it feels like home. 

You feel your eyes close heavy, the sound of his calm breathing behind you lulling you to sleep, the steady beat of his heart perfectly in synch with yours, but you can’t fully let slumber take you since somewhere in the kissing his dick woke up again and is now pressing against your back.

You laugh to yourself before speaking. “Joost you know I can feel your dick, right?”.

He hums in acknowledgment but makes no further move, he just keeps holding you on his embrace, his chest against your back soft and deliciously warm. “Ignore it” He says in a sleepy mumble that transforms into a yawn right above your head. “My girlfriend has work in the morning, you have to let her sleep.” He loves how that sounds coming from his mouth, gets excited thinking about using that word again.

If you turned around at that moment you would see the beautiful smile that paints his features, he looks like he just won the lottery. He can’t wait for tomorrow, to wake up and have breakfast in your table, gets excited over the prospect of all the mundane with you. He falls asleep quickly with the warmth of your body nestled between his arms, in his  dreams he sees even further ahead, dreams of taking you with him everywhere you will let, of changing your contact name to “Liefde” and of continuing to call you his girlfriend forever and ever until one day if he is lucky, he can upgrade it to wife. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

PREQUEL: STEP ON ME ₊˚⊹♡ MASTERLIST *ੈ✩‧₊˚

[arminsumi]

“you’re short”

“okay? so put some inches in me”

-

all i can imagine is a sassy/bratty reader and a cocky gojo 😭

we’re going to ignore that i’ve only seen one ep of jjk and i’m already requesting smut over it ☠️

OOH, YOU FLIRTIN'?

💗 GOJO さとる

[ Note ] : 🥵😳 what a vision! and lol one ep into jjk n alr thirsty for gojo love that 👍 also u n me are so small compared to him 🫠 also idk if he's more cocky or dorky in this oops lol. and i am writing this on my phone at a sleepover lord help me i have been awkwardly shifting around and avoiding showing my screen to any eyes 😭😭

[ Warnings ] : 🔞 minors do not read/interact : suggestive/18+ content/smut, mentions virgin reader, getting caught

[ Playme ] : XXX

"You're so short."

"Okay, so put some inches in me."

"Yeah, I bet you'd like that, huh?"

"I would, actually."

"Ooh, you flirtin' with me, shorty?"

"Yeah, well you started it, big boy."

Big boy...? 😳

Gojo Satoru, your very cheeky and very bold classmate, who has not held back on flirting teasing you about your height since he met you, is rendered speechless for the first time.

But only for a moment. Soak up your victory quick. He stutters. His brain chokes up. His heart throbs like he's just developed an instant crush. His uniform pants feel uncomfortable.

And then he reanimates himself once he hears Suguru snickering next to him.

"That's pretty bold of you, huh?" he smirks toothily, sinking his shaky hands in his pockets. "Now you're gettin' me all worked up—"

"—oh yeah?" you lid your eyes and flirt. He's taken aback again. "Worked up how?"

"Get a room, you two. Honestly..." Suguru grumbles.

"Yes, I think we will." Satoru winks at you. It's a failed wink. Deep down, he's not confident in his flirting. No. Deep down, he's an awkward dork.

His brain short circuits when you continue flirt back. He actually runs out of things to say.

She's a mature flirt. I'm an immature flirt. How the hell do I keep up? Fuck.

When you and him get alone together, clearing up the chairs after a class, you tease;

"Come on, big boy, what's the matter? Lost your edge?"

"No... I'm just thinking." his voice cracks at the end, he clears his throat. It feels tight. His pants feel tight too.

"About what?"

"About what you look like naked."

You let out a laugh, and laugh and laugh, like he's the most ridiculous flirt you've ever met.

"What?" he raises a brow.

"You're so ridiculous."

Oh yeah. That irks him. That flippant comment. You're not even looking at him as you say it, you're scooting a chair into a desk.

He walks over to you and peers down, making the height difference between you and his 6'3 frame sorely apparent. What a big boy.

"Wanna repeat that for me?"

Ooh his voice is heavy and low, low enough to cause goosebumps on your skin. And the proximity? It makes you feel more than just small, it makes you feel a tingling between your thighs.

He comes closer. Grazes his lips across yours. Mixes breaths with you.

"Uh—" you get flustered.

"—haha, just kidding." he pulls away suddenly. Maybe because he got too nervous (true) or maybe because he felt victorious in knocking you off your high horse (also true).

"I thought you were gonna—" you begin disappointedly.

Satoru cuts you off.

"—do something? Aw, are you horny?" he winks.

"Yeah. For you." you roll your eyes.

Fuck.

My pants feel too fucking tight. Can she see the outline of my dick? Is she looking there?

"Is that so?" he raises a brow, staring right into your eyes. No one holds eye contact quite like Mister Six Eyes.

He chuckles, Addam's apple shifting up and down deliciously. "Aren't you a virgin?" he sneers.

"Yes. I am. Are you gonna do something about it, or just stand there like an idiot?"

He nearly chokes.

Wow. What? She actually just said that?

"Of course I'll do somethin' about it, sweetheart. But..." he leans into your air again, closer than before, 'n breathes tauntingly against your quivering lips.

"... does a goody-two-shoes like you really wanna lose her virginity in a classroom?"

"Stop stalling, big boy. I'm not a "goody-two-shoes"; I'm fucking horny." you seethe lustfully.

Fuck.

He's not sure how to respond. His brain is malfunctioning.

"Alright... then use your words like a big girl and ask me nicely to fuck you." he mutters, lips grazing yours. You can feel how badly he wants to kiss you.

Please say it.

The sexual tension has his heart racing, pretty cock pressing flush against the fabric of his dress pants.

"Satoru..." you begin, pulling on his collar.

He gulps and listens intently. The small touch your fingers make with his neck drives him wild.

"... fuck me."

Something just snaps inside him right there.

He crashes his lips onto yours with a feverish intensity, the rest his history—

—er, until the teacher walks in on you two right as things get toasty, catching Satoru with his hand up your shirt and your hand down his pants. And then you giggle off to detention with Satoru.

He promises to put some inches to your height. Uh... you know... by lifting you off your feet while he stuffs you up with his cock 😌

© arminsumi

No copying/plagiarizing/reposting. Do not promote me on other platforms.

[pupyuj]

[cw: g!p liz, pregnancy, breeding kink, lactation kink]

i wasn’t meant to write anything for this bcs i was literally just sitting eating breakfast this morning when the thought of baby daddy jiwon graced my brain and i laughed at it for a second but then it got serious so now ya’ll have to indulge me bcs??? 🤤🤤 also not me saying that that one baby daddy yuj was the only time i’ll write abt pregnancy and yet here we are…

kinda long bcs i rlly loved the fluffy stuff so hehe have fun 💖

we’re all thinking about the same thing, right? your chaotic mess of a girlfriend jiwon feeling as if her whole world was turned upside down when you sit her down and give her the news in the morning where the two of you were supposed to go on a cute picnic date 😭 you can’t tell me she wouldn’t sit there for at least half an hour taking everything in, merely just staring at the wall with her mouth hanging open for so long you thought it would get stuck that way 😭😭 and ykw you were worried for a bit!! the two of you certainly didn’t plan on this happening and this was the clear result of both of you forgetting to use protection that one night where you were just eager to feel the other’s skin,, you half expected jiwon to be angry and lash out at you but no! ofc weird ass jiwon takes a deep breath before pulling you up to your feet and hugging you 🥺

she figured that the news was even harder on you since you were the one carrying the kid,, and being the amazing girlfriend she was, she prioritized your feelings over her own,, comforting you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear when you broke down in her arms not bcs you were upset abt being pregnant or anything but bcs you were just relieved that jiwon wasn’t going to abandon you 🥺🥺 and you’d still go on that picnic date with her! it would be awkward at first but best believe she’s promising to be there for you and with you every step of the way whether or not you decide to keep the baby 🥹💞

i believe in the ‘jiwon would be a wonderful soon-to-be-daddy’ agenda! due to her genuine fear of fucking shit up, she’d probably read countless parenting books 😭😭 sure she knew how to take care of a little kid or two but not a baby! let alone one that she made! she’s reading books, getting ahead of the game and researching and possibly buying all the stuff your kid needs, asking her parents for advice… jiwonie just wants to be the perfect partner and parent 🥺💕 you’d find her in the kitchen one day practicing how to make milk—as in making sure it’s the correct temperature and that it tastes good.. don’t ask her how many times she has actually finished a whole tiny bottle of baby milk 😭😭

and now to the nasty parts! ☺️ if i remember correctly i said this same thing about baby daddy yuj (🤤… sorry—) but jiwonie would sometimes find herself staring at you and thinking back to the night she got you knocked up! it would be worse with her though—unlike yujin’s massive ego showoff, she’s more… dreamy about it? 😭 like she’s really basking in every detail of that night from the stumbling-into-your-bedroom shit while giggling, practically ripping each other’s clothes off while making out, jiwon surprising you with her hidden strength when she suddenly just pushes you into the bed and quite literally gives you the best fucking of your life?? all that of that along with seeing that growing bump in your stomach and your now swollen tits heavy with milk, well… nobody can blame jiwon from getting hard on the spot!

also becomes a clingy perv 🤤🤤 obsessed with backhugging you randomly and kissing your neck bcs it makes you giggle bcs ur ticklish and she loves hearing you laugh BUT ALSO you whimper and get goosebumps all over your skin so it just… turns her on so much 🫣 loves caressing your little baby bump while she half listens to you yap about your day and half touches you all over 😳 you don’t notice what she’s doing until one of her hands is squeezing your inner thigh and the other is making its way up to your breasts,, “our kid’s very lucky.. they have the prettiest mom in the whole world.” and she’s leaving marks all over your neck and shoulder while she feels up your soaked panties… 🫣🫣

jiwon’s a love-maker so expect to be gently fucked while standing by the sink! has definitely memorized each and every spot that has you scratching her arms and curling your toes so you were just completely at her mercy the entire time! the contrast of jiwon telling you the sweetest and prettiest things in your ear while she softly fucks you into an orgasm that has you seeing white?? see, she’s all hot and sexy while fucking you but then you turn around after getting situated and you see a wet spot in the middle of her pants.. even she would laugh and cover up her red face 😭 but she can’t help it okay?! it’s totally normal for someone to cum while fucking their partner.. jiwon just happened to be so stinking cute while doing so that you can’t help but take her to bed afterwards 🤭

now as we’ve established before, jiwon’s always taking care of you and that pretty much tripled every time you wanted to do something ‘drastic’ in terms of sex!☝️ jiwon is always careful when in bed with you, only choosing positions that were safe and comfortable for you even if they weren’t for her! even if you have her rolling her eyes to the back of her head while you ride her, jiwon’s still looking out for you! whether it may be asking if you’re okay, if anything hurts, or just singing your praises to ease you 🥺🥺

jiwon’s so weak against dirty talk too?? 😭 especially when you tell her you want to make a big family with her bcs she knows that means you want her to get you pregnant over and over and yk what that does to her brain?? it almost literally shuts it down bcs she gets sooo turned on at the idea 😵‍💫 sometimes she even thinks about it when she’s cleaning up the house or at work and has to run to the bathroom bcs her fucking cock just wants to burst out of her pants 😭 baby can’t control it, she always needs you :((

ah yeah and the moment your tits start leaking?? it’s so over bcs you’d think that jiwon wouldn’t get even more obsessed with you than she already is but you’re so wrong‼️‼️ teases you and calls you ‘mommy’ a lot while licking and sucking away at your breasts.. and eye contact is a must bcs she loves the flush on your cheeks as you watched her lap all of your milk up! 🫣 and she definitely makes a joke abt being the one to drink your breastmilk if your kid ever gets tired of it but the two of you know damn well it’s not just a joke 🤭 jiwon also loves massaging your breasts to ease the tension in your shoulders and god her dick just gets so fucking hard when she feels her hands get wet w your milk 😵‍💫

in all of your years dating jiwon you never could have guessed that there was a gentlewoman in her! definitely the perfect balance of being a good mommy and a very charming daddy 🥺🥺 speaking of which, her knees turn into jelly whenever you ‘jokingly’ call her ‘daddy’ in and out of bed 🫣 she’s the cutest baby daddy ever 💕

[pepperf]

I'm a little puzzled by a few takes I've seen along the lines of, Lila was such a great wife and mother and Diego took her for granted! Because I don't think the show gave us that at all, and I think it relied heavily and lazily on societal norms to get the audience to make that leap. It also ignored previous characterisation, which is why I plan to disregard the season as a whole - because if the characters had been like this from the start, I wouldn't have fallen in love with them.

So, what I mean is: the whole time we see her as a parent, Lila is basically phoning it in. She seems to view her kids as one monolithic, sticky entity sent purely to ruin her day (distinct shades of the Handler there). They're just a list of chores - diapers, dentist, ballet, cake, piñata... And I'm not underestimating how much parenting really is a list of chores to be done - but that's all we see, no love, no fun. She's eager to get away from them, and she's only - finally - desperate to be with them when it's convenient for the plot, at which point we're supposed to buy the idea that her kids are her sole focus (not the relationship that they spent the past two seasons building up). And even then, the focus is not on the reunion with the kids, it's on all the awkwardness of the surprise love triangle. Hell, one of the kids doesn't even get a name.

Their intent might have been to have Lila be the better parent, but like much of this season, it's all tell and no show. We're working off a couple of brief conversations from the points of view of two frustrated, tired, biased individuals who are already at odds with one another, plus the evidence of what they actually do. They show that they’re not communicating well, but they don’t show how that happened, how long this has been growing, if one of them really is more at fault. All we know is that he complains a lot, and she’s sneaking out at night to play secret agent. They tell us that she loves her children (eventually, after seven years apart), but they show her being annoyed and/or bored in every normal, non-apocalyptic interaction. They have her (and Five) tell us that Diego is a bad husband, but they show Lila sniping at his weight, his way of running a birthday party, rolling her eyes at his efforts to impress her and regain her attention - and they show him dadding at everyone (he will turn this van around, so help him), the comfortable love and affection between him and his kids, the Punjabi he learned to speak fluently to his in-laws, him looking for ways to fix his marriage...

Take the bracelet thing, for example. "You hate bracelets," says Diego. "I gave you one for Valentines and you traded it for a Dyson vacuum." I think what we're supposed to take from that is a) Lila stopped wearing the wooden bracelet (uh oh, signs the honeymoon period has worn off!), b) Diego gives thoughtless, stereotypical gifts, and c) he doesn't understand what she really wants.

But an alternative reading is this: a) Lila stopped wearing the wooden bracelet (could not be a clearer or more loaded 'fuck you' to Diego), b) Diego tried to find another way to win her affection (on his pay as a delivery driver, with a wife and three kids to support, he managed to buy a bracelet that was expensive enough to trade for a Dyson?), and c) she rejected that gift as well, without any deeper explanation than 'I hate bracelets'. She's shut down all communication between them and is not telling him what's wrong. She has shut him out so comprehensively that she's got a whole undercover life - for which she apparently has the time and energy! - and yet we're supposed to think that oh it's all on Diego. Why? Lila is not a shy and retiring flower, and she and Diego have been shown before to have some very sincere heart-to-hearts about their relationship. Something changed, okay, fine - but why would we assume it was Diego that caused that?

I think our expectations about What Women Are Like are doing a LOT of the heavy lifting in how the show wants Lila to be perceived. She's a woman, and therefore she's automatically a good wife and mother - that she's emotionally intelligent, the organiser, she'll love her children and would do anything for them, she'll tried the hardest to make her marriage work, just...because boobies, I guess. This is not how you write good parents, or good female characters, TUA! A truly astonishing amount of people actually ARE women, and they know that it doesn't automatically confer any kind of maternal or wifely abilities! These things have to be worked on!

(In real life, women are often socialised to be better at these things, this is sadly true. But an awful lot of us do not have an innate talent for it, and there's no shame in that. And, more relevantly to this post, this is not real life, and Lila is not your average person. She's not normal, and I love that about her. She was raised to be a weapon. Do we really think the Handler installed the 'homemaker' module? Lila herself said that she was scared that she wouldn't know how to be a mother, because she had no good example to base it on.)

I also think the show assumes that, when you get married and have kids, you're automatically granted a house in the suburbs, a bunch of in-laws, and enough money from just the husband's job to get by. And I think that is an incredibly privileged and blinkered assumption. Frankly, unless her parents are financing them, they should be struggling a lot more. None of that is explained, and for me it was a real gap, because these are the arguments that Lila and Diego should be having. Lila caring for the kids versus getting a job. Living with family versus striking out on their own. Diego sticking at a job that makes him miserable and difficult to live with, or taking the huge financial risk of trying to find something better. These are the real life issues they should be facing.

Listen, I think the characterisation of Lila as a parent and spouse in this season is horseshit. I think she would be so much better than they showed - of course she's going to have some low times, she's going to struggle with her own upbringing, but I think she would try her damndest to get it right, and I don't think she'd be defeated so easily. But if we're dealing with what canon actually shows us, she's, uh, kind of mediocre as a mother, and really not that great as a partner.

And yes, I'm sure Diego is no angel, either, he's obviously wrapped up in his problems, and he's probably not much fun to be around when he's fixating on, uh, *checks notes* wanting a more fulfilling job (the fiend). But honestly, he's not that far removed from the Diego we've seen all along, the one she fell in love with. It takes one conversation for him to realise how incredibly fortunate he is, and to convince him to try to work harder on his relationship and stop focusing on the unobtainable. The idea that he's the only one who is failing at this whole gig - the chief culprit in the failure of their marriage, the only one who needs to make an effort to fix things - is bizarre. And it's pretty obvious why they've done it: to justify her thing with Five later and make it all seem more palatable. But there's no real substance behind it.

tl;dr: this season was badly-written, takes some incredibly antiquated attitudes towards the role of women that are inconsistent with the characters they themselves established, and some incredibly classist attitudes towards manual labour, and just hopes that you'll either take it at face value or read the fuck into it, to better sell you a shitty romance that added nothing to the plot.

[seungcheorry]

morning after with svt.

COLLABORATION WITH @kozukensgf 🎀

suggested by anon, i wrote these drabbles and the amazing hazel wrote the texts. read these first, and then the texts. (:

texts with svt (morning after ver) can be found here.

seungcheol is too soft for his own good. whether he has feelings for you or not, he's the type to stay around for a bit and wait until you wake up so he can say goodbye properly. will probably decline your offer of breakfast though (politely, of course).

jeonghan likes to watch you sleep, so of course he stays around too. if he's not that busy, he will also wait until you're awake to leave - but differently from cheol, he will accept your offer to eat first. now, if he has schedules that day, he'll be out the door as soon as you open your eyes.

joshua is a cutie, so he stays too. he actually wakes up after you, chasing after the sounds you're making around the house. he will be the one to offer to make breakfast or take you out to eat. it doesn't matter if he has feelings for you or not, he considers you a friend? so of course he'll treat you right (the sex is just a plus).

junhui feels kinda awkward once he wakes up. he knows he doesn't like you enough to have romantic feelings for you, so the intimacy of seeing you sleep or taking a shower with you is too overwhelming. he leaves before you wake up, but makes sure to leave a little something for you before he does.

hoshi is a heavy sleeper after sex, so chances are you'll wake up first. he's more than happy to see you still beside him scrolling through your phone as soon as he wakes up. he's the type to run his mouth about anything and everything, bonding with you beyond your steamy times. he's such a darling, he just wants you to be comfortable around him.

wonwoo is quiet, the morning after. he isn't sure if he likes you like that, but he does like your company, your body, the way you make him feel... so it always hits him, after he has sex with you, that he should figure his feelings out. he stays with you for breakfast too, grateful for the way mornings are usually quiet around you. he leaves with a heavy heart before lunch though, but knowing damn well he'll come back to your bed soon.

there's no morning after with woozi, as he leaves in the middle of the night, both because he can't sleep and he doesn't know how to deal with the "aftwards", especially if he doesn't love you. he's not an asshole though, so he texts you an apology when he knows you're awake and tells you that it was fun seeing you again, and that you should definitely go visit him on his studio sometime.

dokeyom is similar to hoshi, i think. he just wants you to be comfortable around him, so he's just his sunshine form when he's around you the morning after. he also stays, for as long as he can/you will have him, but always tell you "hey, i can go whenever you want" - no, dokyeom, you can't. you want to stay. you know you do.

mingyu is the type to wake up earlier than you, take a shower (because of course he already feels at home with you), and then proceed to make you something to eat. he shyly smiles when you come find him in your kitchen. even though the relationship he has with you is mainly sexual, his mom didn't raise a player - so he'll pay you back for having him on your bed somehow.

minghao stays with you. there's this spoken thing between the two of you, where you're not truly fwb but also you're not mere acquaintances - so he's comfortable enough to sleep next to you, but draws the line when it comes to breakfast together. he's out the door as soon as he has taken a shower (alone, of course).

seungkwan leaves as soon as he wakes up, not because he wants to, but because he's most likely late for something. he definitely texts you later, thanking you for the night and promising to see you soon. might also send something to your house, like your favorite dessert or something, since he couldn't stay as he usually does.

vernon doesn't stay. if he doesn't have feelings for you he's more than grateful that you let him have his way with you and always make sure to not be a player, and that includes leaving (it's not right after though, he takes his time to calm down and if you are already asleep by the time he decides to leave, he wakes you up. he will never leave without telling you so).

dino stays because he wants to be with you. i can't see this sweet boy not falling in love or getting obsessed with you, so deal with it. will crack jokes just to see you smile in the morning, and already knows how you like your coffee/tea. his smile falters when you tell him you have plans for the day, a polite way to tell him he can't stay for too long.

[tarotmundomonde]

Love reading 18+ , astrology themed

So this is actually a Venus conjunct Rahu aspect based love reading. The cycle lasts about 10 months and this time it began in April 2024. So keep in mind, this is not an overall next 10 months PAC reading, but it's about what that aspect will add, what lessons it will bring to your love life for the next 10 months. I also added to it an 18+ part. It's my first time doing so, so let me know, what you think about it.

pick a number 1-5 OR an emoji 👰‍♀️ 😛 🎡 🤷‍♀️ 💥

PS: The messages are really long, so I had to replace texts with screenshots. Thank you for your understanding~

(ps. this reading is for practice and for fun)

1.👰‍♀️

And you know, what's so great about that? Because that's then, what you attract. Someone, who glows, someone magnificent, someone super attractive aka to your taste, someone you'll have a heart to heart connection with. And then you will have a very blossoming sacred union with a lot of embraces and affection expressed to one another. They will reach out to you. Like said, maybe this sacred union is with someone you already know, but it's like they can't come forth, before you are in your power first. But the cards say that miracles will happen and to remember to be playful! Then 18+ messages. The shifts shows. It's the same message as before. For example in intimacy, at first your energy makes it difficult for anyone to approach you. There is intimidation and fears and awkwardness. And if you learn your lessons, then there is this quick shift and the rest is history. Like the intimacy will reach the stars! This pile actually shows that you will have a s*x life. Most definitely. The attraction is going to be very intense, but it looks like you will both try at first to hold back till you just can't. Like the energy will be very heavy and intense. And then you find each other in each other's embrace going at it 🤣 It seems you will discuss your preferences and a lot of tease can be seen from the cards. You are gonna love your person's body! This person, they know how to enjoy the pleasures of sx. They know their pace and their speed. This person will be like their body is a present. Kinda like they are the cake and you should come and… enjoy. Yeah, this person has some real stamina, just saying. And you know what's great? Reciprocity, equal give and take. This person knows, how to be generous and make sure you both equally enjoy it. And it's gonna feel very natural to be with them. No wonder the cards talked about a sacred union. So pile number 1, you've got nothing to worry about. It looks great!

2.😛

possibilities. And that it seems there will be new love coming in. Very deep emotions and feelings, happiness and love. So that's great news for you pile 2! But especially, if you have multiple options, those are things to really pay attention to. Like, can the person make you laugh? Then 18+ messages. What comes to intimacy, it looks like it will take some time for someone to melt, to open up to it in the connection, whether it's you or them. It's also possible you could be dealing with someone at a distance. There is also a more intuitive approach to intimacy with this pile. Someone here doesn't want to open up, unless they think this is love. Whether this cycle adds to your s*x life or not is 50/50. For some of you, it could be due to physical distance. It looks like this pile will attract some flings or hook-ups, friends with benefits. So in more details, this is how it's coming through. If you are at a distance, you will must likely only dream about each other. If you meet, you'll have questions like will you meet again, when will you be able to be together again, etc. If it's a fling, random hook-up, friends with benefits, it looks good, but it's lacking something. Maybe it's just uncomfortable, for example doing it in a tiny car with very little space. Or simply the fact that it's lacking a foundation, so there is no real bonding, no sparks. It looks like you will be thinking, who is next and is there someone better out there and such. It seems like you'll be left thinking that in general it could be even better. Like said, it's good, but if you'd have a real connection, if they were your partner, then it could be fantastic. Something like that.

3.🎡

give it to you, same in bed. Now, what comes to the hot stuff, there could be quite a lesson there for you. I'll tell you, what it literally looks like. That you think the size will do it. That the key is the size of their D. And you will be shown that it's far from enough. Basically, it looks like you'll do your best, you'll put on your best performance for your partner, but it's one-sided. Only you put in the effort. And they'll just use their body once and that's it. It looks like you'll feel left out hanging. You will feel robbed. And based on the cards, this is explained in the most nice way possible. So your dreams of a big D being the magic wand that will give you all you need will be shattered into pieces. The key is going to be to understand that chemistry is really important and that your partner knows how to use their magic wand and that they want to use it. Basically if they have the hots for you, they should embody it and want to show you their passion for you, if you catch the drift. But like the cards show, you can always bring it up and talk about it with them and see then, how they react to it. If they care about you, it would show. If they don't wanna even hear it, don't wanna change, etc, then think about it, think if that person really is for you.

4.🤷‍♀️

fleeting chemistry or true bond. And it turns out to be true bond with fiery chemistry. It looks like you are saying no to temptation and no to just lust. You demand love, and patience, time will show you what the person is about. And they are patient and they respect you. It's like they are literally saying that you are gorgeous and so hot and they want you, but you decide. Like they are leaving an offer on the table, saying they want you so if you want them, call them -type of message. Hope it makes sense. So if you need someone's touch, this person is willing to give you it all. And interestingly, the cards are showing that you focusing on yourself and on your solar plexus chakra healing and in general focusing on yourself and being true to yourself in regards to s*x and love, it's bringing you good karma. Just so you know.

5.💥

possibility that you are trying to manifest someone in particular and of course, if you are not into manifestation rituals, it seems someone is manifesting you. But the cards talk also about love messages coming in. And about a long-term commitment coming in. Perhaps even engagement. Then 18+ messages. It seems you are more open to intimacy than your possible partners. So you could feel like they lack vulnerability. Physically they do want to touch you, but it feels like you are more gentle than them and they might be more rough. Like they offer you the temptation and the D, but it's like what they do comes with the intention of doing the deed, whereas you seem to want more intimacy and closeness and hugs. It looks like a lot of temptation, doing things to make you do what they want you to do, to make you do the things they want to get from you. For this pile, everything is possible, you may have or not have an active sx life, at least based on the cards there isn't really any additional energy adding to it. The same theme of lack of vulnerability is strongly present in the cards. It feels more like friends with benefits or a rebound. But the person here is not vulnerable and not open to open their heart. It just like sx that is agreed on, it looks even like your person would be absent-minded. And they only want it when it's convenient for them. And definitely the cards show someone, who'd want to have a rebound, as all they want is the healing and that's it. So yeah, friends with benefits or a rebound. If you meet someone, who is serious about you, then it seems this person does not want to rush things with you and want to first take their time to enjoy the romance with you.

[hrts4doie]

sloppy seconds (study buddies pt. 2)

wc: 4.7k

warnings: f!reader, threesome between you + doyoung + haechan, sub!haechan, switch!reader, dom!doyoung, cuckolding, degradation, humiliation, voyeurism, unprotected sex, cum play, breeding kink, dacryphilia, doyoung is shy at first then becomes mean, haechan gets ignored and cries a lot, everyone’s a bit perverted, haechan finds a new study buddy (sorry doyoung)

a/n: this is part 4 to me and @haetrack’s nerd!haechan series but can also be read as a standalone! our idea that finally made it out the dms can u believe it.. this is literally pure filth btw. part 3 (doyoung being added into this mess) can be read here on val’s account!

haechan lost. he made a stupid bet, too caught up in his own pride, and he lost.

it’s not like he failed his exam. he did great, sure, but he still lost. to make things even more humiliating, he lost by one point. you consoled him, telling him that it was okay, but even then he still couldn’t shake the feeling that he messed up.

he’s jealous, the feeling eating him up inside knowing that doyoung, who was his favorite study buddy, is probably up right now, gloating in his glory and imagining everything he’s gonna do when he gets his hands on you.

if this were under normal circumstances, haechan might not have minded inviting doyoung over to have a threesome with his girlfriend. he thinks of himself as someone who’s generous, one that's willing to share if the situation was right, and he’s close enough with doyoung that it wouldn’t necessarily be weird. but this isn’t under normal circumstances and haechan’s only sharing you because he lost a bet.

for once, haechan thinks that he might actually hate life. he decides that this is all probably just some sick joke the universe decided to play on him, and unfortunately for the universe, haechan doesn’t really find it funny.

frustration heavy on his mind, haechan pulls out his phone and opens up his messages with doyoung. if he was going to even consider going through with this bet, they needed to talk.

haechan: we need 2 talk

haechan: about the bet.

doyoung: oh?

haechan: ur lucky she even agreed

doyoung: didn’t you make the bet assuming that she would already? lol

haechan: whatever. just come over tmrw and we’ll talk

haechan: [address attached]

when doyoung comes over, it’s awkward.

you’re sitting on the couch with haechan next to you and the air in the room is tense with doyoung’s presence. he’s sitting across from you two, eyes darting around the room nervously. he realizes that in reality, meeting up with your friend to have a threesome with his girlfriend isn’t as easy as it sounds. is he supposed to look at you? make the first move? doyoung’s head hurts thinking about the situation.

it probably doesn’t help that haechan, your boyfriend, is staring hard at doyoung. you place a hand on his thigh, trying to comfort him while also trying to get him to stop.

“hi doyoung,” you greet, smiling warmly. if haechan wasn’t going to speak and doyoung was too nervous to even look at you, you had no option but to take the initiative.

doyoung falters, staring at you for a few moments before opening his mouth to respond. “hey, __,” he greets back. he gulps, nerves getting the best of him. he runs a hand through his hair, desperately trying to ignore how intensely haechan is staring at him from the corner of his eye.

“thanks for coming over to-”

“okay,” haechan cuts you off, “no more small talk!” he didn’t like the fact that you two were about to have a conversation about this without him. if he wasn’t going to get the first say, this wasn’t going to happen at all. sue him for being a bit possessive, but how else was he supposed to react knowing that right after this, doyoung was going to be fucking you? “there’s no need for,” he pauses, waving his hands around in gesture, “all this. i’m already humiliated enough, okay? let’s just get this over with.”

you side-eye him, noticing the growing blush on your boyfriend’s face. he’s embarrassed and almost as nervous as doyoung is.

“first of all, you can’t cum in her, okay? that’s.. that’s weird and she’s mine, so don’t get any stupid ideas. you should be grateful i’m even letting you touch her at all,” haechan mutters, suddenly avoiding eye contact with doyoung. this was so humiliating to talk about, especially with you right next to him.

doyoung runs a hand through his hair again, nodding. he glances at you, then haechan, then back to you. “is there anything else off limits?” he asks, his gaze subtly dropping down to your lips.

haechan catches this, huffing. “stop staring at her like that, man! you can.. you can kiss her, i guess. only if she wants! w-we’re not vanilla or anything like that, so that’s the only thing that’s off limits,” he frowns. the clarification was unnecessary, but he didn’t need doyoung getting any ideas about what their sex life was like.

“i don’t mind if you kiss me, doyoung,” you add in, squeezing haechan’s thigh. it was a warning, telling him to be nice.

“o-okay, yeah. i got it,” doyoung says, exhaling nervously. he runs a hand through his hair one more time. now that the rules were out there, it was awkward again. he still didn’t know how to approach this, his mind racing with different kinds of thoughts. he glances between you and haechan, uncertainty clear on his face.

a few moments pass and still, doyoung hasn’t moved. this only frustrates haechan because seriously? he gave doyoung the opportunity to touch his girlfriend and he wants to be nervous about it?

if doyoung won’t make a move, haechan will. he turns to you, leaning forward to kiss you. it’s rushed, messy, and bordering on desperate when he kisses you, hands immediately coming to grope at your skin. he’s eager, you can tell, trying to get doyoung to do something.

you pull away from the kiss, pushing haechan back by his chest. “s-slow down, babe,” you gasp out, just barely short of breath. he goes for your neck instead, leaving wet and sloppy kisses anywhere he can reach. you place a hand in his hair and yank him away from your neck, frowning. “you know your manners. doyoung’s our guest and we should welcome him properly.” haechan only whines at this, unhappy with the interruption.

doyoung, with his hands gripping his thighs, looks like he’s seen a ghost. this was weird and intruding on so many levels, yet he feels his dick growing harder as the seconds go by. you were so hot and he badly needed to be in haechan’s place, kissing and touching all over your body.

“come here, doyoung,” you call out to him, moving your attention away from haechan. you notice his bulge and giggle, the thought of having two men desperate to be all over you making you giddy.

doyoung gets up from his seat, slowly making his way to you as you beckon him over with a finger. with a newfound confidence and his dick doing the thinking for him, he leans down to connect his lips with yours.

kissing doyoung is different than kissing haechan, you note, closing your eyes. doyoung’s more controlling than haechan is, taking what he wants without asking. his hands cup your face, tilting your head upwards for a better angle. while haechan is pliant and submissive, letting you kiss him as you please, doyoung is demanding and forward.

you moan into the kiss when you feel his hands start to roam, touching and groping your body everywhere he can, as if trying familiarize himself with it. it’s so much and you feel dizzy from the way doyoung kisses you.

a loud whine breaks the moment and you pull away from doyoung, turning to look at haechan. he’s staring at you two, brows furrowed, and clearly upset. he wasn’t used to the attention being on somewhere other than him during sex, and quite frankly, he didn’t like it. not having your attention pains him, especially when it’s on doyoung instead of him. he may have lost a bet to him, but this? this wasn’t fair.

you shush haechan, telling him to be quiet, and ignore his whines of protest. haechan tries not to think about the way his dick twitches in his pants at the quick dismission.

doyoung, finding the whole situation amusing, laughs at how easily haechan folds because of you. his suspicions that haechan liked being pushed around in bed were true, and a fleeting thought about just how far he’ll go to please you crosses his mind. he puts a hand on your cheek, turning your face back to him and leans down to connect your lips in yet another heated kiss.

you cup doyoung through his sweatpants, feeling his bulge, and gasp into the kiss. doyoung is big, bigger than haechan, and the fact makes you smile. he breaks away, moaning against your neck as you palm him through his sweats. “fuck,” he moans, hips bucking into your hand. it’s good, overwhelmingly so, and he hasn’t even gotten to fuck you yet.

doyoung thinks that months of sad, heartwrenching sex with nobody but your ex will do that to a man. this is new, and good, and so fucking overwhelming.

“you’re so big,” you whisper into his ear, sliding your hand inside his pants and past his boxers, touching his cock. he groans at the contact, cursing once more.

“yeah?” he mumbles against your neck, grinding into your hand. “bet i’m bigger than haechan,” he adds on, “bet i’ll fuck you better than him too.”

you nod, the words making you throb in your panties.

haechan is quick to protest, frustrated with how he’s just been getting ignored. “that’s not–that’s not true!” he whines. doyoung was not going to fuck his own girlfriend better than him. it didn’t matter if his dick was bigger. he refused to let that to happen.

doyoung pushes you back against the couch, caging you in and sliding a hand down into your pants. he rubs at your clit through the fabric of your panties, making you moan.

“it is true, haechan,” he laughs, “i bet you can’t touch her properly either.” he connects your lips in another kiss, continuing his touch. you’re so wet, soaking through your panties, and it’s driving him crazy. between kisses, he asks, “he doesn’t know how to touch you the way you need it, hm? need me to do it cause he can’t?”

haechan’s humiliated hearing this, shaking his head even though neither of you are paying him any attention. this is so unfair, he thinks again. he does know how to please you and how to touch you. doyoung’s words were just stupid and untrue. what’s stupider is the way he’s so hard, cock straining against his pants while he’s watching doyoung touch you like he’s not even there.

“y-yeah,” you agree, throwing your head back with another moan, “so much better with you, doyoung, fuck.” his hand is inside your panties now, feeling your cunt and just how wet you truly are. his fingers tease along your folds before moving back to rub your clit. the touch is foreign, different than the way haechan touches you, yet you still can’t get enough of it.

haechan hates this. he hates everything about this situation and he’s embarrassed because he he likes it. he likes the humiliation and the way you two ignore him. it makes his stomach twist in unexplainable ways and his cock throbs in his pants every time you tell him to shush or to be quiet.

doyoung is kissing down your neck when you finally call haechan over, deciding to spare him just a little. he scurries to the other end of the couch, desperate for at least some kind of attention. his eyes are wide, silently begging, and he can’t help the whine that leaves his mouth as he gets closer to you.

he tries to ignore that doyoung is right there next to him, hands roaming freely inside your panties while haechan can’t even touch.

you grab him by his hair, pulling him down for a kiss. you love when he gets like this, so needy and desperate for your touch. breaking away, you ask, “you gonna be good and wait, hm? let doyoung have his turn while you sit–fuck–sit there and watch?” it’s difficult to focus with the way doyoung is touching you, his fingers hitting all the right spots.

dumbly, haechan nods. he’ll be good, he thinks, even if the image of doyoung fucking you makes him want to cry.

“good, baby,” you whisper, kissing him again. “take us to the bedroom so you can show doyoung just how good you are, okay?”

haechan watches from the corner of the bed as doyoung peels off your shirt.

you’re laughing, amused by the way doyoung’s eyes widen as he gropes at your chest. it’s experimental and slow, not familiar like the way haechan touches you.

haechan knows he can make you feel better faster than doyoung can. doyoung’s taking his time, learning what you like, but haechan knows. he knows what gets you going and what makes you moan the loudest. it’s frustrating to watch. he wishes he could just show doyoung how much better he is, but he promised to be good.

as doyoung’s hands roam across your bare skin, haechan can only watch as he lets his palm subtly grind against his clothed clock, taking off a little bit of the edge. his cock is so hard it hurts. he wishes he were touching you instead.

doyoung’s whispering words into your ear that are too soft for haechan to hear. it’s as if he’s not even there and doyoung’s your boyfriend instead.

haechan watches as you get manhandled by doyoung, placed prettily in his lap, and watches as he spreads your legs apart. you’re on display, cunt glistening right in front of haechan’s face, and all he can do is watch. he’s staring hard at your core, zeroing in on the way doyoung’s fingers start to carefully dip inside you. he starts with two, slowly starting to pump them in and out of you.

“god, you’re beautiful,” doyoung whispers against your skin. you’re dripping, clenching hard around his fingers as he fucks you. they’re so long, reaching deep inside you and curling just right against your sweet spot. “it’s a shame haechan didn’t share you sooner,” he continues, his free hand coming up to grope at your breasts again.

“doyoung–mmh–doyoung, please,” you gasp as he starts to pick up the pace, fingers pumping in and out of you quickly. a loud squelch sounds as does, your pussy sucking his fingers in even deeper. the sound is embarrassing and it makes you flush a bright red. “d-doyoung,” you moan, throwing your head back on his shoulder and trying again.

“hm?” he hums, smiling against your neck. he’s staring right into haechan’s eyes, a mean look in his eye.

doyoung wants to humiliate haechan and show him that no matter what he does, he’s still going to be better. haechan’s girlfriend is in his lap, cunt dripping around his fingers, and moaning out his name, not haechan’s.

haechan feels stuck when he stares back at doyoung.

you’re oblivious to the silent interaction, too caught up in the way doyoung’s fingers feel inside of you to notice. you moan as he slips in a third, stretching your hole and making you feel full. suddenly, all you can think about is how badly you want his cock inside you.

“you’re so fucking wet,” doyoung groans, looking away from haechan to kiss down your neck. “it’s all for me, isn’t it? not your boyfriend?” he asks, curling his fingers inside you again. the words make you whine and nod, overwhelmed by doyoung’s words and the way he touches you.

you know haechan’s watching, pathetically palming himself through his boxers, and you can’t help but play things up a little. “w-want your cock, doyoung,” you moan, “please, i need it!”

haechan whimpers, hips bucking up into his hand. he’s ashamed, cock twitching as he realizes just how turned on he is by his girlfriend moaning another man’s name. this is so wrong, he thinks. you’ve tuned him out completely, attention purely on doyoung, and yet he’s still so turned on.

doyoung pulls his fingers out of you, wiping them on the sheets, and quickly manhandles you onto your back. you whine at the loss of his fingers, clenching around nothing. you need him to fuck you now and the wait is driving you mad.

“c’mon, fuck me already,” you whine, rolling your hips.

he laughs, moving to kneel between your legs. “yeah? need my cock that badly?” he asks, hands teasing along your thighs. “beg me for it,” he whispers, “beg for my cock and maybe i’ll give it to you.”

doyoung’s doing this on purpose and you know it. you know he wants to humiliate haechan, wants to make you beg for another man’s cock that isn’t his. you know and you like it.

“fuck me, please,” you beg, spreading your legs wider. “want your cock, doyoung. fuck me like i deserve, please.”

“that’s it, baby,” doyoung groans, spitting into his hand and slowly starting to stroke his cock. his tip is bright red and leaking from how badly he wants you. “just a little more,” he beckons, “need to know you really want it.”

haechan wishes the ground would just swallow him whole. tears are starting to well up in his eyes as he listens to you beg and he wishes you would just look at him. doyoung isn’t that good. he can’t be, haechan thinks, trying to console himself.

doyoung teases the tip of his cock against your hole, just barely pushing in.

“please, doyoung,” you try again, wrapping your legs around his waist. he’s so close yet still so far.

without warning, doyoung pushes in, bottoming out in one go. a moan rips from your throat at the sudden intrusion, his cock stuffing you full.

“look at that,” he mumbles, eyes glued to the way you’re practically sucking him in, pussy clenching hard around his cock. “so fucking tight,” doyoung groans, lightly thrusting. he’s letting you adjust, hips barely moving, and it’s still so much. you squeeze your eyes shut and whimper from how big he feels inside you.

haechan reaches inside his boxers, pulling out his neglected cock with a cry. he can’t tear his eyes away from the sight of doyoung fucking you, no matter how much he claims to hate it.

you open your eyes, turning your head to look at your boyfriend and the teary look in his eye. “d-don’t you dare touch yourself, haechan. i told you to be good,” you say, ignoring how this makes him whine even more.

you turn back to doyoung, rolling your hips and begging for him to move.

doyoung grips your waist and slowly starts to thrust inside you, his thick cock dragging against your walls. you were so tight around him, making him moan as he starts to fuck you faster. his pace is relentless as his hips snap against yours, cock sinking deeper and deeper.

“s-shit,” he groans, the lewd sound of skin slapping filling the room. “you were made to take it, weren’t you? m-made to take my cock,” doyoung grunts, glasses starting to slip off his face from how hard he was fucking you.

“oh my g-god,” you moan, pussy clenching tightly around him. you can barely think, the pleasure and doyoung’s cock inside you making you lose your mind.

doyoung slows down, stopping his thrusts completely before bringing a hand up to fix his glasses. you whine as he stops, trying to get him to move again.

he turns to look at haechan, a mean smile on his face. he gently starts to thrust inside you again, all while keeping eye contact with him. “look at this, haechan,” doyoung calls, “look at how she’s sucking me in. let’s make a bet on who fucks her better, yeah? you’ll lose that too, won’t you haechan?”

doyoung’s words are mean and haechan’s not sure he can take it. he shakes his head, trying to defend himself. “that’s not–that’s not true, doyoung,” he whines, gripping the base of his cock so he doesn’t cum. he can’t even look at doyoung anymore.

“c’mon, doyoung,” you beg, wanting him to pick up the pace, “ignore him and fuck me, please.”

doyoung turns back to you, leaning down to kiss you. he slams his hips into you, fucking you fast and hard. you moan into his mouth and wrap your arms around his neck, hole twitching around his cock as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

his kisses trail down to your neck and his glasses are starting to fog up from how hot it is in the room. he moans against your skin every time you clench around him, thrusts starting to get more and more desperate. doyoung fucks you faster, pounding into your messy cunt as he feels himself getting close. he brings a hand down to rub your at clit in time with his thrusts, causing you to cry out.

“i’m c-close, fuck,” doyoung moans against your neck. you’re clinging onto his back, moans loud as you try to keep up with his pace. “tell me you’re close, baby,” he begs, grunting as your walls squeeze him impossibly tighter.

too overwhelmed to speak, you nod and your thighs start to shake. all it takes is one more deep thrust from doyoung before you’re cumming, shocks of pleasure washing over your body and your pussy spasming around his cock. “doyoung,” you moan out, hands flying to his hair.

“that’s it,” doyoung grunts, hips starting to lose their rhythm as he feels you cum around him. his dick twitches inside you, so close to cumming, before he quickly pulls out, leaving your hole gaping.

he sits back on his heels, quickly starting to jerk himself off. finally, he cums with a loud groan, dick twitching in his hand before he spills all over you, painting your stomach white. he’s panting, looking down at you with a dark look in his eye, almost as if he’s admiring his work.

you’re a mess, makeup smeared and hair all over the place, and it’s all because of doyoung. his cum paints your skin, and to him, it’s art.

doyoung turns to look at haechan, wanting to brag in his face. the sight is pathetic. haechan is stroking his cock, tip leaking, and all thoughts of waiting for permission to touch himself fly out the window. he just watched his girlfriend get fucked by another man and now he badly needs to cum.

coming back to your senses, you sit up against the headboard and turn your attention back to haechan. “don’t you even think about cumming, haechan. come here,” you demand, “you know what’s gonna happen if you cum without my permission.”

haechan full on sobs at this, pulling his hand away from his cock. his hips buck in the air and you hear doyoung laugh beside you, humiliating haechan even further. tears are rolling down his face as he desperately crawls across the bed to you, kneeling between your spread legs.

“l-let me touch you, please,” he begs, hiccuping. “i’ve been good, just please let me touch,” haechan goes on, babbling about how badly he needs you. his poor cock hangs heavy between his legs, neglected and leaking.

“shh,” you coo, wiping a tear from his eye. “you wanna touch me?”

haechan frantically nods, nearly knocking his glasses off his face.

“i’ll let you touch me, hyuckie,” you whisper, leaning back. “clean me up and i’ll let you touch, okay?” you ask, smiling.

haechan freezes, looking between you and the cum on your stomach. it’s doyoung’s cum that’s all over your body, not his. “clean.. clean that?”

“i thought you wanted to be good?” you ask, placing a hand in his hair and pulling his head down to your stomach. “are you gonna be good or not?”

doyoung’s eyes widen at the situation before he grins. the thought of just how far haechan will go to please you crosses his mind again.

haechan’s face crumples as he sticks out his tongue, licking up the first drop of doyoung’s cum. it’s gross, humiliating, and the taste is strange, but he wants to be good. he looks up at you, tongue traveling across your stomach as he licks up the rest of the cum.

your breath hitches as you watch him and you bite your lip, keeping a hand in his hair.

haechan whimpers as he finally licks up the last drop, a stray tear rolling down his cheek. you yank him up by his hair and connect your lips in a heated kiss. he’s needy, already forgetting about the fact that he just licked doyoung’s cum from your body and thinking only about how he needs to fuck you.

his hands are all over your body, touching anywhere and everywhere after being deprived for so long. he whines against your lips, pulling away to catch his breath.

“please let me fuck you,” he begs, too desperate to think clearly anymore. “please, baby, need to fuck you.”

you shush him, wrapping a hand around his aching cock. “you think you deserve it?” you ask, slowly starting to stroke him. haechan whimpers, hips bucking into your hand. he nods, trying not to cum on the spot.

you turn your head to doyoung who’s sitting right next to you, “should i let him?”

doyoung looks haechan up and down, taking in his pathetic state, and decides to be nice. “let him fuck you. he listened good enough, i think.”

haechan feels relief wash over him at doyoung’s answer, silently thanking him in his head. “come on, please,” he begs you again, leaning down to kiss you on the corner of your mouth. haechan thinks he might die if he doesn’t get to fuck you in the next five seconds.

you let go of his cock, spreading your legs further. “fuck me, baby. show me how much you need me.”

haechan wastes no time, grabbing the base of his cock and guiding it to your entrance, bottoming out in one thrust. he feels tears well up in his eyes again at the feeling of your warm walls around his cock. “f-fuck,” he whines, squeezing his eyes shut. being inside you is almost too much.

your hole spasms around his cock, still sensitive from the way doyoung fucked you before. “i want you to cum, hyuckie. you deserve it, don’t you think?”

haechan nods and starts to frantically snap his hips against yours, fucking you like his life depends on it. his thrusts are sloppy with no rhythm, driven purely by want and the need to cum. all he can think about is how he needs to fill you up and show doyoung that he’s the only one who can do this.

you throw your head back with a moan, caging haechan in with your legs. “t-that’s it, baby,” you praise, “cum for me.”

haechan cries out as he feels your walls tighten around him again, hips stuttering. he thrusts in one more time before finally letting go, spilling his cum deep inside you. you pull him down for another kiss, moaning into his mouth.

you pull away, caressing his face. he flops down against you, cock going soft and slipping out. his glasses are gone too, lost somewhere in the sheets and left behind in a fit of desperation. you giggle when you notice this, wrapping your arms around him.

“thank you,” he mumbles, face dropping down to hide in your neck. he’s exhausted and currently rethinking his life choices.

doyoung clears his throat, pushing his glasses up his nose. “that was.. wow,” he says stupidly, looking between you two. he’s satisfied yet suddenly feeling like he’s intruding.

you giggle, running your fingers through haechan’s hair while you look at doyoung. “i almost want to say thank you for winning,” you teasingly say to him.

doyoung, suddenly shy, bites his lip and asks, “was it.. was it good? better than haechan, i mean?”

at this, haechan whips his head up, whining. “stop! that’s not–no! i’m never making another bet with you again after this, doyoung! this was the first and the last,” he grumbles, squinting at his study mate.

you and doyoung both laugh at his words. “i was kidding,” he says, putting his hands up in surrender. “i see why you two are together. you’re…” he pauses, flashbacks of everything replaying in his mind, “let’s just say you’re good for each other?” the laugh that follows is nervous, almost like he’s not sure how to explain.

haechan decides that he’s definitely opening up applications for a new study buddy after this.

a/n: umm.. hrts4doie first fic who else cheered!! i just want to say THAAANNNKKK YOU SOO MUCCHH to val aka @haetrack for coming up with this series with me and also helping me write parts of this!! im soooo excited to finally be posting this and completing the nerd!haechan series but i love nerd!doyoung so bad i just might write more of him. anyways i hope u guys enjoyed and lmk what u thought!!

tags: @haetrack @beidouvv

[theminecraftbee]

the summer before THE END...

(this fic contains @hotguycomiczine spoilers! go read it first! i'll wait!)

It’s midday. The sun is heavy and hot, bearing down against the asphalt and visibly making the air shimmer over the road. Summer in Hermitopia can be miserable, and frankly Cuteguy thinks it’s far more miserable than the bruises. The humidity makes his feathers stick together and itch in awkward ways, he’s sweaty twice over because he hadn’t had time to actually wash his costume between the last major villain attack, his recent part-time line cook job, and then this fight.

He’s in his early thirties and he’s becoming an old man, he thinks. His knees should not hurt this much, and yet here they are. Vigilantism is going to give him early arthritis.

They’ve driven off the villain. Didn’t manage to catch him, though. He wasn’t even from Hermitopia. That’s been happening more lately; people who see Hermitopia as some lawless wasteland where they can come visit, avoid drinking any water, and live out their dreams of being a comic book character, damn the consequences or collateral damage. It’s frustrating. Sometimes, deep in Cuteguy’s soul, he sort of thinks the Soup Group has a point in calling out all this bullshit.

Of course, they do all that murder about it. So. Not much better, really.

He leans against a building and tries to breathe. Normally he has a water bottle with his costume, but this guy had homemade napalm. Luckily, not real napalm! The water did work for putting out the fire! Unfortunately, it’s ninety-seven degrees and humid and Cuteguy has just done enough cardio that he’s honestly worried about the odds he passes out. 

Out on the street, Hotguy is chatting with every civilian he comes across. He’s grandstanding. He’s giving blow-by-blows. He’s acting like his sweat doesn’t stink like a mere mortal’s. He has a water bottle, and he’s taking sips of it between chats with reporters and posing for cameras. There are enough cars and civilians that Cuteguy isn’t all that worried about the TCG yet. Hotguy’s still pretty damn wanted, what with the whole possession thing that they don’t exactly have the means to prove to the public, so Cuteguy’s got to keep an eye out for them, but with this many cameras on him? The TCG isn’t about to arrest him on camera. Despite everything, he's still too charismatic; he'd still make them look too bad. 

Cuteguy wipes his forehead again. He does notice when someone starts approaching him; he might be exhausted, but he’s acting as Hotguy’s situational awareness while he’s busy playing up crowds. He can’t afford to be that exhausted, so he isn’t. That, and the woman approaching him is hardly as stealthy as the Bleeding Hart. Another thing he might have to give to the Soup Group were he willing to give them credit for anything: he’s never been able to fully stop noticing where everyone is around him. Hotguy had winced and called it “hypervigilance”. Cuteguy had said that he wasn’t any better, he just calls it a superpower. Hotguy had said it is hardly his fault his superpower promotes vigilance. Cuteguy had—

“Uh, good fight. Thanks,” says the woman.

“Oh, uh. You’re welcome,” Cuteguy says.

She’s tall and blonde. Also, she has four arms. Cuteguy should have probably noticed that first, but he didn’t, and that’s on him.

“Bit of a mess, especially in this weather. Hotter and they’d issue a heat advisory, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Cuteguy says.

He is not good at post-battle smalltalk. That’s why it’s Hotguy’s job. He’s good at causing chaos if needed, but chaos is the opening the TCG would need to get to Hotguy. Cuteguy glances in his direction. He’s posing and signing autographs still. He can’t help but sigh. They’re going to be here all day.

The four-armed lady follows his gaze.

“You know, I’d always wondered why you stick to him,” she says.

“Sorry?” Cuteguy says.

“I just mean—I watched the fight. Yeah, he’s good, but you’re decent at range too. You can get enough height to really not need perfect accuracy because you’ll be hard to hit. Wings are, uh, a pretty overpowered combat tool, really, especially when most of your enemies are on the ground. But you’re good at close range, so, uh, inside isn’t awful for you either, really.”

“I mean, you’re right, I am pretty good,” Cuteguy says, interrupting her. “I don’t really get—”

“Look at him,” the woman says. “You ran around more than him and he took the water bottle.”

Cuteguy wants to defend Hotguy for that one; it’s hardly his fault that Cuteguy dumped his water bottle on napalm like it would do anything. It did, which is convenient, but still. Not Hotguy’s call. He doesn’t quite get the chance.

“Even after everything last month, he’s still grandstanding too. Sure, he’s stopped shooting people for not being grateful enough, or holding rescues hostage for cash, but look at him. Hardly any better, is he. Sure, he says he was possessed—”

“He was,” Cuteguy snaps.

“—but like, is the guy he is now actually all that different? Just saying.”

Cuteguy stares at the man trying to get extra photo ops out of a group of passing runners. They’re topless to account for the heat, which is probably why Hotguy wants photos with them. Cuteguy can just barely hear the man asking to trade phone numbers. Is it worse or better, Cuteguy wonders, that the phone number Hotguy gives out just goes straight to Cub’s inbox? Is that catfishing or just good sense?

“He’s trying to help,” Cuteguy says.

“He’s desperate for attention,” the four-armed woman says. “You know, you’d probably be better without him. After everything that happened, your reputation would be better too. A little more in the shadows, a little less associated with his crimes.”

“He’s…”

“I just want the real reason, really,” the woman says. 

“What do you…”

“Why would you stick with him when you’re so much better?”

Hotguy waves goodbye to the runners. He takes another sip of the water bottle. Really, there’s so much that Cuteguy can say here, watching that. He could say something about how, in the terrible days when the Soup Group had first come onto the scene, Hotguy had barely left Cuteguy’s side until Cuteguy started pushing him away. He could say that Hotguy is earnest, that he really does want to save people, despite the fact he also wants attention. He could say that he knows the man behind the mask now, and he’s seen his films, and frankly getting a little recognition as Hotguy kind of makes up for not getting recognition for his decent acting talent. He could say something about playing Mario Kart on the couch, or learning to aim a bow, or fights with Doc, or secrets shared that Cuteguy wants to make sure Hotguy never has an incentive to spread. He could say something about how dangerous fighting alone is. That’s probably the more sensible thing to say, actually; Cuteguy knows exactly how dangerous fighting alone is.

What Cuteguy says is this:

“He makes me happy.”

There is a long not-quite silence as sirens and cicadas fill the summer air.

“Huh,” the woman says.

Cuteguy doesn’t say anything else.

“Well. I mean. I don’t really know how to save you from that, so I guess I’ll just leave you to it,” the woman says. “Consider if he’s really worth it.”

She leaves. Cuteguy stares after her a moment before shaking his head and going back to scanning the crowd for any known TCG elements.

“Birdie!” Hotguy crows, running over from the reporters. “We’re on the 5 PM news!”

“Really? An out-of-towner with questionable pyrotechnics made it?” 

“I got it worked out,” Hotguy says confidently. “But, uh, with that said, you look like you need some AC and a drink. I have so much Gatorade in my fridge that it isn’t even funny. All the labels are pulled off because it’s for that one football movie I did, right? And for some reason they didn’t want to give Gatorade the product placement, so they made all these sports drinks without—”

“Not in-costume, Hotguy,” Cuteguy says, but he doesn’t put any heat into it.

“—oh, you know no one’s listening, lighten up! Anyway, so the movie ended up somehow ordering far too many bottles, and you know what they say about underpaid actors and free food—or, I’m not sure it’s actually an expression, but let me tell you, I have never turned it down. And with the number of ele… electo-mites? I think? You know, all the sweat we’re sweaty about—come on Cuteguy, I don’t want you passing out on the pavement, I really didn’t mean to get caught out that long!” Hotguy says, grabbing Cuteguy’s hand to take him back to his apartment.

Miserable heat or not, Cuteguy can’t help but smile slightly.

“I don’t want to pass out either, that’s why I’m not running, Hotguy,” he says, and he lets himself be tugged along in that man’s wake once more.

[sparkledfirecracker]

Guilty Pleasure

Request: Andy fucking his sister in law while Laurie is out of town for a week.

Word count: 5262

Warnings: 18+ only, explicit sexual content, explicit language, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cheating but not really, spanking, fingering, penetrative sex, sibling rivalry, semi-bullying by a sibling, mention of re-marrying, porn without a real plot. If I missed any, let me know.

A/N: This contains cheating, do not read or interact if you're sensitive to familial betrayal. Jacob does not exist in this story. Anything you read is fictional and not based on actual events. This is not beta’d. Happy 2023, nonnie! May it be a great filthy and panty-wetting season. Tumblr ate your ask and I’ve tried to post this 3 times now. Hopefully this meets your expectations and thank you for dropping off the request (I’m sorry it took me so long) 😘. Enjoy!

I do not give permission to repost, publish or use any of my stories, that counts for media entertainment too. Reblogging, liking, commenting and ghost reading on the other hand is all allowed.

By clicking ‘keep reading’ or ‘read more’ you agree to be 18 or older.

Your relationship with your sister had never been loving, it always contained rivalry. Having wanted to curse your father for remarrying. Laurie was always being picked as the favourite in your eyes.

That is why it had surprised you the minute she had asked you to check in on her husband. Stating she was going to be out of town for the week. As a good sister you had agreed to her request, it also came in handy that you enjoyed spending time with Andy. He was generally nice and on top of that, good company.

Since you both worked together at the district attorney’s office, it immediately eased the awkwardness. With a slip of the tongue, you had offended Andy during lunch. Stating that you never had seen ‘Ferris Bueller’s Day Off’. Andy practically had demanded you to come over for dinner and watch the film together.

As the day came to an end. You had declined his offer to give you a ride as you still had some errands to run for Neil. Andy had huffed at the mention of his name. Muttering that Neil hadn’t been worth all the extra hours so that he could get praise for the work you had done.

It had been almost two hours later than initially planned. “Andy, I’m home.” You yelled excitedly through the house as you stepped through the front door.

His muscular frame appeared in the opened-up arch of the kitchen. With a wide smirk, he placed his hands on his hips and scanned you from head to toe. A comforting warmth wrapped around you like a blanket preventing the cold from creeping in.

You weren’t prepared for the intrusive thoughts to flood back the way they did. Laurie had won the bet between you both all those years ago. It wasn’t so much a bet, it was more a way to give you stick for not going after what you desired. Your heart shattered the moment she told you she started to develop feelings for Andy.

Seeing Andy like this made all the old feelings resurface. The doting husband waiting for his partner to come home. A soft yearning for his touch or those lingering eye contact moments. Mentally rolling your eyes when you looked straight at his wedding ring. Wanting to curse yourself for having allowed their relationship to go on this way.

Their marriage was based on a lie. Laurie didn’t love him the way you did, all this yearning had stopped the moment they said “I do”. Only to find out now that those feelings never had been gone. Just stuffed and locked in an imaginary filing cabinet.

Insufferable reminders of what could’ve been clouding your head. That’s where Laurie thrived, your discomfort. And it had become her running joke, teasing you for fawning over the man that she fucked at night.

“I hope you like pizza,” Andy let out a heavy sigh, “I’ve ruined the pasta.” He confessed, supporting an embarrassed look. Leaning back against the counter of the kitchen island. His hands gripping the edge so tightly it almost seemed like it drained the blood.

Was he nervous? He couldn’t be, he had never been nervous when you were around in the past. Though the tension between you both could be cut by a knife.

“I brought beer.” You smiled, holding up the six-pack in your hand breaking the slightly awkward silence.

“You didn’t have to.”

“It’s not polite to come empty-handed.”

“You’re family, you’re not obliged to bring anything.” He gave you a smile grabbing the six-pack from your hands. Making his way towards the fridge, opening the door, and looking back at you. “Want one?”

“I prefer a cold one.”

He nodded, grabbing two bottles from a shelf while sliding your six-pack into one of the empty spots. He cracked open both bottles, handing you one.

A polite conversation followed as you settled yourselves in the living room. With the amount of pizza ordered, you suggested doing a taste test. Andy admitted that he didn’t know what you would like and had ordered multiple choices while he handed you a notepad and pen to scribble down your ratings of each slice.

He had started playing Ferris Bueller’s Day Off and you were so invested in the film. Almost blocking out where you were, losing track of your surroundings as the television sucked you into the story at least so you had hoped.

Your your mind wandered to other things. What would life look like if you and Andy had started dating? What if Laurie never had acted upon her impulses? He kept it neat and groomed, the bristles must be so soft. His beard would surely feel great on your skin. Those hands were large and probably very skilled. The way he gripped his beer bottle with precision and delicacy. The motion made you swallow hard, shaking your head slightly to gain back focus.

The thought of those fingers deeply buried inside you made you clench. How the curl of gesture would send you over the edge with much skill. His perfect lips wrapped around your clit, licking and sucking your core. Pleasing you in any and every way no man had ever done before.

You blamed it on the way he walked around the office. He truly must be very well hung. The way his bulge had once been shown and on full display. Remembering the way he had looked back at you through narrowed eyes. As if to tell you that you had been the reason his pants got awfully tight.

With a choked breath, your chest warmed at the sound of his laughter. Clamping a hand over your mouth when you let out a squeak from the slight shock. His eyes burned holes into your skin as you felt him watch. Though it was hard not to do the same every time he laughed at a funny part, either taking a sip of the beer in his hand or taking a bite from his pizza.

“You know you can sit on the couch, right?” The question sounded more like a demand, but you tried to avoid his gaze at all costs.

“I know, but I like sitting on the floor.” It was a swift reply, gulping your beer. Nervous feelings grew in the pit of your stomach.

“When your ass gets all stiff and tingling, you know where you can get comfortable.”

You almost choked on the gulp of beer you had just taken. Coughing and laughing as you tried to breathe. Andy slid over, softly patting and rubbing your back.

“Don’t say things like that Andy, I could’ve killed myself.”

“As long as I’m here, you’re free from harm’s reach.”

“How noble, my knight in shining armour.”

“Is that how you’ve been seeing me for all those years?”

His gloating face said it all. He knew about your crush on him. How? Did Laurie tell him? Was it all those stolen glances in the office or the ones here on his couch in his own home? Maybe even all the tortuous looks and hurrying out of the room whenever he was near in your college days?

You felt your face heat up, trying to hide your embarrassed expression. Blood pumped through your veins like it was about to blow your eardrums.

“I’ve known for years.” Andy confessed, “I must say I’m amazed and angered at the same time. You have denied yourself to try and win me for you. Were you too shy to ask me out for that sorority party?”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. There was no turning back. Lying to him or yourself wasn’t going to help either of you.

“Yes.”

“I need a little more words than that, sweetheart.” He inched his way closer to you.

“Yes, I was shy.” The lump in your throat felt uncomfortable.

“Why did you let Laurie treat you the way she did? Why did you let her win?”

“I don’t know. I should go home.” You rushed, trying to get up and run away from this mess that was unfolding. Instead, you were slammed back down, air left your lungs as you collided with Andy’s thighs. One hand kept you pinned down on his lap. The other massaging and squeezing your ass.

“It’s always been you that I truly wanted,” a warmth flooded your chest again. “Imagine my disappointment when you didn’t object during our wedding. Making me feel miserable and stuck in this marriage for years.”

Andy’s hand rubbed the globe of your ass, you gasped when his hand smacked your ass. Your muscles contracted under the impact but melted into the obtained position over his lap. The realization of him punishing you for all your past mistakes went straight to your core. Biting down on your lip to stifle the moan from breaking free.

“I’m sorry, Andy.”

“Are you really, sweetheart?” Andy asked, leaving another imprint on your ass.

“Yes.” A desperate cry for him

“How about you being exceptionally quiet and showing me how well you can take your punishment.” The question was laced with a promise. A firm one at that. “I’d like to hear how sorry you really are.”

You simply nodded bracing for impact, but it faded to surprise when he lifted your skirt. Andy hummed with satisfaction as your lace panties and garter set became exposed.

With each collision of Andy’s hand, your ass became more and more sore. Every harsh slap felt more raw than the previous one. Making you bite your lower lip, trying to keep the sounds muffled and still.

“Are you going to be good for me?”

“Yes.” You replied,

“I think you can do much better than that.”

Another smack burned on your skin. You nodded your head, crying out an “I’m sorry, Andy.”

You were surprised when Andy helped you sit back on the couch. Hissing at the burn of your ass on the fabric. Your mascara had stained your cheeks from the few tears that had slipped from the arousing pain.

His fingers softly brushed your cheek. Gathering the melted makeup or maybe even smearing it further. There was no telling in his movement.

“You look beautiful.” The whisper was barely audible and spoken with true admiration. Without thought, you pressed your lips against his. Feeling him smile into this moment. Probably because it had been the first time since you took charge of what felt right.

“Tell me you want this.” Andy breathed against your lips, as the kiss broke. Your eyes flickered open, meeting his gaze. Worry and hope both dancing in the blue hue of his eyes.

“More than anything.” It wasn’t a lie, but it would be wrong to act upon these feelings. “We can’t.”

“Laurie won’t mind. She doesn’t love me the way you love me.”

“But-”

His lips interrupted the speech you were about to recite. Guilt clearly wasn’t on Andy’s mind. The way his tongue explored every part of your mouth like he was on a scavenger hunt. Stroking, teasing, pleasing and obscenely filthy. He made you hungry for more.

Not even your wildest dreams could’ve prepared you for the searing passion. His large hands cupped your face guiding you to lie down. The moment he had you underneath him, his hands ripped your silk shirt with haste. Neither of you cared enough for the pearl buttons that flew across the room.

With a darkened hunger he glanced back at you. Toying your nipples through the laced fabric of your bra between his fingers. You arched off the couch as he pebbled and tugged on your breasts. Swiftly pulling the delicate lace down, taking one of your boobs into his mouth. You whined at the erotic swirl of his tongue, nothing but lustful precision.

His hands found the zipper on your skirt. Tugging the item off, discarding it on the floor. Running his hands over your garter belt. The look on Andy’s face said it all, he hadn’t seen anything like it in a long time. Making you his shiny new toy, ready to be devoured and owned.

You leaned up, cupping his face and pulling him into a desperate kiss. Feeling his hand smoothly moving over your panties. Your body had now become his playground, making you desperate for him. With a pout he broke of your kiss, searching for your approval as he pulled aside the material of your panties. A softened smile was enough for him to slide his fingers through your heat, coating them in your juices.

Andy brought his finger to his mouth, groaning loudly as he licked them off. You tried to look for that one moment where you would both find a reason to break this off. Yet all you found was a deepened craving to need one another.

You watched Andy lean down. Kissing his way around your thighs. The soft hair of his beard tickling and teasing your skin. Gasping at the tender lick from the tip of his tongue against your clit followed by a gentle kiss. Another lick gathered more of your soaked core. Sucking on the pulsating nub. His tongue explored every crease and crevice of your cunt.

The throbbing ache builded between your legs while Andy gently licked through your folds. Circling the tip of his tongue over your clit, making sure to tease you enough until you let out a soft whine. With every sound you made from his touch, he sucked down and placed a kiss.

He spread your legs wide, needing more space than you currently allowed him. For a moment shame coursed your body, closing your legs as far as he allowed you to. You covered your face with your arms as if to shield your emotions from him. Andy’s hands squeeze your thighs harshly, making you inhale sharply.

“Don’t you ever dare hide from me.” He warned, peeling your arms off your face. A fiery kiss pressed against your lips. Your moan seemed enough for Andy to start more exploration. Leaving your lips, pecking your jaw. Nibbling your ear, tracing your neck. Sucking, licking and teasing in order to make you focus on the sinful pleasure.

The suck of his mouth on your breasts made you arch further into him. The way he played your body like a fiddle. Making you sing a different tune. Allowing you to float on cloud nine when he had barely done anything yet.

The softness of his hands stroked your legs. Comforting you in this odd situation. Making sure to let you know it was okay to give in to him and enjoy this just as much as he did. Your panties were hooked around his fingers. Letting them be pulled down and thrown into the room.

The grip of his hands was a little rougher when he pulled your legs apart again. Coming face to face with your soaked cunt. You tried to read his face, a certain glow of admiration spreading across his features.

“Beautiful.” He praised. The whisper of his voice penetrated your mind. He clearly longed for you just as much as you longed for him.

His large palms held your ass, while the tips of his thumbs explored the outer edges of your pussy. For a moment you stopped breathing at his gentle touch. Juvenile play as if he was exploring what stroke would give him a reaction.

You watched Andy lean forward, feeling his tongue toy with your clit. Flat swipes, gentle circles and a rhythmic change between a slow and faster pace was enough to make you cry out for him. Your hands found the strands of his fluffed-up hair. Making sure he knew you appreciated his delicate touch.

His tongue swiped back and forth through your lips. Sucking his lips around your clit as he reached the top. Lewd noises filled the air as he drank up your juices.

His possession became clear when you tried to shift into another position. His large hands held you in place. Making sure you felt every bristle of his beard and movement of his mouth. His tongue sank deeper and with more pressure like a deprived man who had been kept from his dirty little secret.

You tugged his hair at the eliciting feeling building in the pit of your stomach. His beard rubbed your sensitive cunt as his tongue worked its magic. The feeling too overwhelming making your hands try to stop him. Andy hadn’t waited long to stop his actions. He furrowed his brows in annoyance.

“When I’m down here, you don’t get to interrupt me. Understood?”

“Yes-yes.” You stammered out under his gaze.

With a single nod, you felt his tongue deep between the lips of your pussy again. Delicate kitten licks toying with you and with each moan it spurred him on to fasten his actions. Burying his face for a deeper taste of you.

With a harsh suck, he popped your clit from his mouth. You felt him smiling against your pussy. Happy to be between your legs. Allowing you to play and tug his hair as long as you didn’t interrupt his meal.

His tongue flicked your pulsing clit while his thumb rubs up and down your hole. Gathering all of the dripping nectar with his mouth. Feeling the pressure of his other finger digging into your ass. Your hips bucked for a second and he pushed his thumb in.

Sobbing at the assault on your cunt only allowed for his tongue to rapidly flick and swirl your clit. The thrust of his thumb didn’t feel big enough. Only making you whine and whimper for more of his touch.

Another finger joins as you feel two fingers sliding up and down your pussy. “Yes!” You exclaimed at the relief of the soft stretch. Whining when he slid them back out.

Andy’s explored every inch of your soaked core. One of his fingers teased your entrance, making your body writhe under his touch desperately. Feeling two of his fingers slide inside felt like a gift. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he scissors them inside. Pulling them in and out to draw more of your juice out.

No man had ever given your cunt this type of attention. Not with this much precision. He hummed at the taste of everything you were giving him. Your moans increased as he made you feel so good.

“Oh fuck.” Your head craned backwards as you pulled his face closer to your cunt. Not wanting him to leave.

With a twist of his wrist, he curled his fingers against your sweet spot. Everything was happening so fast, you couldn’y even think about wrong or right anymore. His hand was covered in your sweet nectar, lapping it up with his hungered mouth. Drawing everything out that you’re giving him.

Your orgasm builded quickly, nothing but gasps, moans and whimpers leaving your body. Bucking your hips against his face was punished with his strong arm holding you down. Clearly sending you a sign that he would do all the work.

The burn of his beard had subdued due to the ecstatic feeling that rose. The squelched noises filled the air as your cunt drenched his fingers.

“Andy, please.” You screamed at the erratic pumps. Your legs clamped around his head. The spasms of your body erupted from his assault. “Please, stop, Andy.”

Shuddering around his fingers made him still his fingers and pull back from your pussy. His bewildered gaze met yours. He was a man on a mission. The grip on the couch eased up, as he let you have a moment to catch your breath.

Drawing his fingers from your core, he plunged them back in. Clearly sending you a sign that he would be the one making all the decisions tonight. Your trembling body assaulted another time as his mouth worked your core. Soft kisses and strokes helped you through your high. Working with you to come back down from the heavenly state he had put you in.

Andy got up without a warning. Holding out his hand for you to grab. Your cunt still pulsating from the mindblowing orgasm, making it hard to stand up. Rolling your eyes at this uncharming moment as he guided you up the stairs.

As he opened the bedroom door he turned back at you. Suddenly everything was starting to become too real as you stood in front of him vulnerable and naked. Guilt clouding your mind once again. Andy grabbed your waist, pulling you closer and swiftly turning your bodies, making you walk backwards. His lips teasing yours with soft pecks.

“You’re overdressed, Barber.”

He threw his head back laughing at your words. Releasing you from his grasp, undressing quickly. You glanced down your body, noting you still were in your own lingerie. Unclipping your bra, letting it fall to the floor.

Your fingers hooked under the garter belt around your waist. Andy stopped your hands from acting any further as you tried to slide it off. He raised an eyebrow, giving you a warning, watching him slide down his boxers. Gulping when his cock springs free as he pulls his boxers down.

Andy was bigger than any other man you had in the past. One thing was clear, Andy Barber wanted you more than anything. He was going to be yours for a night. Fuck Laurie and her stupid comments that still had haunted you.

You would devour him one time and then cut all ties. A way of getting him out of your system. Your hands wandered over your ass up your hips and waist. Gliding over your breasts, tweaking the nipples between your fingers.

“You’re so gorgeous, sweetheart.” Andy praised, stepping towards you. His hand settled at the base of your neck while the other cupped your cheek. His lips were hungry, searching for an entry. A filthy swipe of his tongue against your lips. Caressing your palate and dancing with your tongue. He guided you back towards the bed until you could take no more steps.

His cock pushed against your stomach, making the excitement shoot through your veins. Andy ground into you, making you clench around nothing. Humming at the strokes of his tongue, yelping when he suddenly pushed you down on the bed.

Taking advantage of your surprise he flipped you over. Climbing behind you with his knees settling on either side of your body. His hands resting beside your head, pressing loving kisses on your cheek, down your shoulder while tracing wet and sloppy marks down your spine. With every move, he slowly sat back up.

His hands caressed your ass, admiring the view underneath him. Slightly tilting your hips so your ass would spread a little, granting him more access to your pussy.

Andy ran his cock through your soaked core. Coating himself while working your excitement up again. He tapped your pussy with his length before sinking in his tip in to tease you. You gripped the sheets letting out a muffled moan.

“Please, Andy, I need more.”

“So desperate for my cock.”

“Please, fuck me.” You begged, feeling him pull out of you.

Andy repositioned himself, spreading his knees wide, making sure he all leverage over your body. A darkened smile held his face. With a single deep thrust, he nearly splitted you in half. The allowance to get used to his size was short lived when he bottomed out.

“So tight for me, sweetheart.” Andy husked, taking in every expression you displayed as you tilted your head to look back at him. He was looking for discomfort, but all you returned was a smile when he pushed back inside your walls.

His hips rocked in and out, stretching your cunt and easing off the burn. He pulled out, slowly dipping in and out of your dripping cunt. Your hands reached back to spread your cheeks for him while he slowly kept sinking in further and further.

Your hips kept lifting as he kept plunging in and out of your hole. He grabbed your hands, stopping the spread of your ass, guiding them upward above your head. With a rough grasp on your hips he impaled you deeply. Driving his cock inside your wet walls eagerly.

Soft whines escaped when he pounded you from behind. Working up your orgasm as he slided into you over and over again. Clenching around him when he angled his cock just right against your sweet spot.

He drew your body close to his when he rolled you both sideways. The pumps of his cock added more and more pleasure in this newfound position. Your foot rested on his thigh. Feeling his lips marking your neck. His large hand kneading your breasts, pinching your nipples and making you sob at the pleasure swirling in your veins.

You squeezed around him, suddenly releasing more frantic ruts from him. The muscles of your body tensed at the spearing motion. Andy’s hand circled your waistline finding your swollen clit. His flat fingers rotated your overworked cunt. Making you squeeze him even harder as you couldn’t withhold from cumming. You trembled in his hold as he kept you close.

He slid out and laid back, his cock still throbbing as you turn your body towards him. You licked your lips at the glistened length.

“I want to admire your view. Ride me, sweetheart.” Andy ordered

It was a different request than what you initially had in mind, but it wasn’t one you were going to deny him if it meant more pleasure for you both. Soaking up every inch of love Andy was willing to give you before you had to part ways.

Throwing your leg over, he holds his cock for you to sink down on. Your mouth fell open at the renewed positioned feel of his width. Halfway there he let you take control. Sliding his own hands up your body playing with your nipples and kneading the squishy flesh of your breasts.

“So good.” You gasped, bouncing gently up and down his cock. Watching Andy’s teeth sink into his bottom lip. Upon impulse you respond by leaning forward as you keep riding him. Your lips meeting, kissing him fiercely.

With your hips circling his cock his hands were free to roam and caress your body. His hands stroked the small of your back down to your ass, helping you push down further on his cock. Pulling you back into him when you lift a little too high. Meeting the slow rocks of your hips while your mouths desperately fuck one another on their own rhythm.

His arms circled your waist, holding you down, fucking up into your drenched cunt. Breathlessly you break off the searing kiss as he fucks you deeply. His eyes watch you closely, admiring your beauty as you work up to another orgasm.

Andy flipped your bodies, making your legs fell open. He sank back in deeply, resting his arms beside you. Your needy body right where he wanted it. You’re vulnerable while he was in total control. He slowly rolled his hips into you. The friction was deep and loving. Your legs circled his waist, holding him within close proximity.

His ruts deepen with every pound, making it harder for you to breathe. Every inhale was met with a cry of pleasure. Your sobs only made him pump you harder. Fucking you harder into the mattress. You were about to reach another high when he swiftly pulls out and pumps himself on your stomach. His white ropes painted your flesh.

“I want to pump you full of me.”

“Then fuck me, Andy.”

A consensual agreement, not one of you had thought of a condom. Too busy drinking up one another. Without another word, he slid back inside your walls. Opening one leg while resting the sole of your foot against his shoulder. Slowly you fell apart as your muscles tensed up again.

A rough pounding as he fucks you deeply. Taking him to the hilt, creaming his cock with your arousal. His hand took a hold of your ankle and he pressed his lips against the inside. You watch him lean his head back, feeling his cock twitch inside you.

Andy chased his own high with a guttural growl. The orgasm rippled through you, trembling underneath him. Your body screamed for him, feeling his hot cum filling you, squeezing him dry, needing every last drop as if he was your antidote to the venemous bite.

Freshly fucked dumb and pleasured. You were taken by surprise when Andy dove back down between your legs.

“You’re going to give me one more, sweetheart,” Andy stated, clearly not having gotten enough of your sweet taste.

The swipe of his tongue feels glorious, making you sob at the feeling. He hovered back over your body, kissing your lips and letting your taste your mixed pleasure.

His beard scraped your folds, while his greedy fingers pump your filled cunt. Andy drank from your pussy like it was his last drink. The swirl of his tongue circled your clit. The perfect suction on the pulsating nub. Dragging his flat tongue over your soaked hole. The sweet nectar with his cum dripping generously.

Your hands entwine themselves in his crazed hair as he vigorously pumps you with his digits. The sweet moans filled the room, as you felt the perspiration covering your body from being overstimulated.

Andy worked your pussy like a professional. His mouth not leaving your clit while his fingers did all the pounding. Curling and twisting them inside you. Your body started to spasm against his tongue when he penetrated your hole.

Drenched for just Andy as he licked you clean. Exhausting your body to the limit. Squeezing every ounce of liquid from it, like it was his mission.

Your throbbing core had pushed out all of his cum by now. The thought of him cleaning you out from his own cum made you even more aroused. Your muscles tensed up, making the ache of another orgasm even more pleasurable.

“Please andy, don’t stop.” You whined, feeling his thick tongue licking your clit.

Andy continued until your body stopped writhing. Fully saturated when your final orgasm had taken over. He pecked your cunt with his lips. Admiring it in its whole, while watching it pulsate around nothing. The ache was still there, but it was worth it.

“You did so well for me, sweetheart.” Andy smiled, leaning upwards. His body was on top of yours, pressing his lips against yours, stroking your hair as you willingly circled your legs around his waist. Locking him into your grasp with your ankles linked.

An intimate and vulnerable moment of just you and Andy. A moment that should’ve happened years ago. But now, it was too late. The damage was already done. Guilt overtaking your body.

“She’s seeing someone else.” Andy whispered softly as if he could sense your thoughts. Your eyes grew at the spoken words. How did he know that? “I’ve known for a while. She wasn’t ready to tell the family yet.”

The heavy weight on your shoulders immediately lifted your mood. His arms circling around your waist, holding your body tightly against his.

“Why didn’t you start with that news earlier?” With a balled fist you hit his arm.

He laughed and without answering he kissed you passionately like he had waited his entire life to do so.

[evolnoomym]

Bigger than the whole sky 🌌

Dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Pt.2🌠 | Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: You meet Joel and well of course you fall for each other. It’s a bit bumpy since he’s your Dads best friend. But things seem to work out until they don’t anymore. One event changes everything.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: no use of y/n, pov switches that might be confusing, female reader, reader has hair, reader wears makeup, reader can get pale, weight loss, implied childhood abuse, trauma, angst, heavy angst(?), implied smut, alludes to pregnancy, funerals, coffins, reader has no name only a bunch of nicknames, size difference, dbf!Joel Miller, mentions of throwing up, loss of a loved one, grief, depression (?), food and eating issues are mentioned, talks of having a baby, Blood, dark thoughts, intrusive thoughts, age gap, readers age is not exactly mentioned but Joel is 44, talks of getting married….

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: this is for @almostfoxglove ‘s Angst Writing Challenge. Shoutout to her she created the moodboard, it’s sooooo beautiful. 🫶🏻

Shoutout to @thecutestgrotto and @cafekitsune for the dividers 💙

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. This is also only my second time posting writing for a specific character. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly. This not beta read btw only by my eyes and they hurt after starring at the screen for so long 🌌🫶🏻

And lastly I’ll leave some songs i listened to while writing <3

loml by Taylor Swift

Black Friday by Tom Odell

This is what the drugs are for by Gracie Abrams

I guess by Mitski

Present by Lloyd Vaan

Je te laisserai des mots by Patrick Watson

Home by Daughter

Allowed to be Happy by Gustavo Santaolalla

Song on the Beach by Arcade Fire, Owen Pallet

aisatsana [102] by Aphex Twin

Fourth of July by Sufjan Stevens

Francis Forever by Mitski

A House In Nebraska by Ethel Cain

Medicine by Daughter

Youth by Daughter

I can barely say his name by Patrick Jonsson

listen before I go by Billie Eilish

You remember exactly how you met Joel Miller, it was so simple. He was the one to give your Dad a job at the construction company he led together with his younger brother Tommy. In the beginning you only heard how great of a boss he supposedly was through your Dads stories. 

Joel and him seemed to have grown into real good friends in the span of mere weeks. You always had wondered what the man from his stories was like in person, up close. 

When you had to drive to the construction site to bring your Dad his lunch he had forgotten due to being a bit busy that morning. It seemed like your wishes to meet Joel would become reality. You didn’t think the big boss would spend his precious time with the actual building process but as you'd figure out in the future, Joel is a hands on kinda guy. 

You must’ve looked super out of place and quite lost when he approached you. His Texas drawl still echoed through your head hours later. „Well Hello Darlin, lookin for someone?“ and if that alone didn’t completely blew you away, then certainly his stunning looks. When you turned towards the voice a tall, broad and awfully handsome man looked back at you.

After an awkward beat of silence he stretched his hand out towards you “Apologies sweetheart, should’a start with the name, huh?” Tilting his head slightly “Name’s Joel, Joel Miller.” At that you let your hand slip onto his outstretched one. His hand was so huge, warm and calloused. Shaking his hand kinda calmed you down Joel Miller was absolutely lovely. “Nice to finally meet the famous Joel Miller that my Dad keeps yapping about nonstop.” You giggled while cheekily winking at him. 

That must’ve been a key moment for everything that was to follow. You’d see Joel again and again. Whether due to your Dad inviting the single, 44 year old Man over or due to you having to deliver your Dad’s forgotten food. 

The tension was slowly building higher and higher between you two until one day in Joel’s office you could no longer hold back. 

Joel stood in his office with you by his side, in front of a pinboard containing all sorts of information about his newest project. He was animatedly explaining processes you’d never understand in a million years. You actually kind of tuned him out and just enjoyed being unbelievably close to him. 

Then his face kinda looked confused. Oh no he must’ve asked you a question. Shaking your head you say  “Mhhh sorry, what did you just ask?” Joel tilts his head towards you the way he always does and then states “Ya didn’t listen to a single word I just said, right Sweetcheeks?” 

He always comes up with the most ridiculous nicknames that cause a vicious pull in your lower stomach. You lost count of how many conversations with him ended in drenched panties. 

“I….i -of course I was listening to you, why wouldn’t I?” You stammered a bit offensively, surely he’d see right through you. 

“Hm kay, so what was I talkin bout, gorgeous?” He’s teasing at this point. 

“Ok I wasn’t listening but that is a lot I don’t get anyway so can you really blame me, Miller?” You fired back. 

“So, whatcha thinkin bout inside of that pretty little head of yours, instead of listening to me?” You just scoff at him “Let’s not pretend you don’t know exactly what I was thinking about Joel.” Pointing one accusing finger at his broad chest. At that motion Joel enveloped your wrist in one of his massive hands, pulling you closer that way. Until you were right in front of him, only a tiny space left between your faces. “Why don’t ya tell me whatcha thinkin about Baby?” 

He must know, just by seeing how your eyes keep slipping down to glance at his pillowy lips, what is going through your head. You’ve been dancing around this topic, the tension, the pull towards each other, how forbidden it is for all of this to happen. Joel is your Dads Best friend and he’s twice as old as you are but you know that if you don’t kiss him right now you’ll go insane. It’s all you think about, kissing him and then some more. 

For the first time in years you actually consider letting someone get so close again. Joel would never hurt you like the ones before him did, no, he’s mature and wouldn’t play any of those stupid games. You know how kind, considerate, protective and caring he is for the ones he loves. Sure it won’t be easy to explain any of this to your Dad but you can’t think about that right now, no, you have to kiss Joel, it’s the last thought before leaning up to push your lips against his. 

One chaste kiss that erupted into a full blown make out session that only got interrupted by some frantic knocks at Joel’s Office door. 

From that day on those meetings became a routine, in his office, his truck, his house or sometimes he’d take you out of town for a super secret Date. The thrill of hiding with the possibility of getting caught soon turned into shame for lying to your Dad so much. You wanted to tell him even though it scared you more than anything how he might react. 

Surprisingly though he didn’t completely freak out, of course he was shocked and confused how this combination came to be. More than anything he took the lying personally and made clear that as long as you are happy, so is he. If Joel was the one then so be it, besides your Dad has a lot of respect for Joel and knows you're in good hands. 

After 3 months of being an official couple Joel asked if you’d be happy to move in with him. You had to think about it for a long time, feeling quite guilty about leaving your Dad behind but he reassured you that he would be fine on his own. He told you that a grown woman like you shouldn’t have to live with her boring old man anymore than you already did. 

So you moved into Joel’s house. And what followed were months filled with wonderful memories. Many barbecues were held, your Dad and Joel always standing at the grill together, each nursing on their beer bottles. 

Whenever you wanted to try a new recipe your Dad was invited over so you could make sure he still ate enough, the night always ending with you sending him home with a bunch of Tupperware's filled to the brim with deliciously homemade meals. 

When you wanted to paint the walls in the living room a new shade your Dad came over to help. 

Making sure his baby girl is happy and content was your Dads number one priority. 

Then one day you went over to his house to catch up a little bit, just you two having some Dad and Daughter one on one quality time. 

He was so excited when you told him that Joel and you want to have a baby. 

He told you what a great mother you’d make because of how wonderful you always have been with kids and how much you always wanted to have kids of your own. 

To others it might’ve been weird to share such an information with their Dad but you have such a close bond that it’s not weird at all. 

You were so happy on the drive home cuz you know what great grandpa he’d make. 

It must've been exactly one week later when you woke up with an indescribable feeling in your chest. As if the world spun a little slower, or the air felt more compromising…whatever it was you couldn’t stop feeling like something had happened. 

Your intuition only perked up more when your Dad didn’t show up for the usual Sunday’s breakfast you recently started doing. 

After 8 calls that nobody picked up you told Joel you would drive over there and as if he knew that you would need him for whatever was awaiting you there, he came with you. 

The closer you got to the house the worse you felt. Hands sweaty, heartbeat racing and your stomach felt like turning over at the sight of the house. Usually he would be up by now playing his obnoxiously loud music that you’d hear on the street through the open kitchen window. Instead it was eerily quiet. 

When Joel had parked the car he told you to wait for him but you couldn't. You just ran up the steps, unlocked the door with your spare key and bolted through the house as if on instinct you skipped up the steps to his bedroom. You flung the door open and there he was. Just laying on his designated side with his glasses still on and one hand on his chest across his heart. He looked like he was just sleeping but deep down you knew he was not. You can’t remember a lot, only that you immediately bolted towards the bathroom to empty your stomach out, Joel came up too and tried  comforting you through the heaving. Then he tried to get you away from the scene. Joel took care of everything while you just locked up inside of yourself. No tears, no screams, no words, not a singular reaction just nothing. Joel had never seen you look so…empty. 

Later on the authorities would say it’s just natural cause, he simply passed in his sleep, nothing dramatic. Not the kind of closure you would have wanted. It didn’t matter how “normal” it was, your world stopped spinning entirely. Everyone seemed to go one but you just stopped. 

Suddenly without any foreshadowing everything was completely flipped on its head. You loved him so much, he was your best friend. He told you all the time how much he loved you even with all your struggles. You’d never have to prove your worth to him; he'd love you no matter what. In his eyes you were a gift, opposite to your mother that looked at you as a burden. You never felt loved by her. She took away your precious childhood and forced you to grow up quickly. So you could take care of her. Even when you told her how close to the edge you were she always made everything about herself. Out of your parents the one person that actually wanted you, died and with him so did your willingness to continue with the fight against all your inner demons.

You lost yourself after that. For weeks you just slept, barely moving, only getting up to use the toilet and perhaps eat something small and drink a bit. Joel had to shower you, otherwise you wouldn’t have done it yourself. Who you were before losing your Dad was gone, as if you died with him. 

Joel tried everything in his power to make you feel better. One time he wanted to paint with you since you loved to do that, but the moment your eyes caught sight of the little paint pots you ran for the toilet to empty out your stomach. Later on he realized his mistake, you used to paint with your Dad a lot all the way back in your childhood so of course that would not make you feel better. Then he tried playing music for you either your favorite songs from your playlist or on his guitar. Nothing, you just continued to be completely catatonic. 

Then the funereal came, a day Joel dreaded he was not sure you’d be able to handle it. In the morning he made your hair and applied a bit of makeup, he watched you do your little routine often enough to know what he was doing. Afterwards he dressed you in a simple black dress and equally black flats. Walking only worked since Joel kept you upright. 

Sitting in the front row bench at the chapel you looked like a ghost. Pale and sunken in. You were asked to do a speech about your Dad but that would’ve been impossible. So Joel went up to do it instead. You just stared straight ahead at the coffin, not sparing a glance towards Joel. 

And once everything was over, the people, mostly his colleagues, paid him their respects. When everyone was gone you stayed and just laid your head on the coffin silently sobbing, which was the most emotion Joel had seen in weeks from you. Only he was to witness this vulnerability. 

Staring at the completed grave was just as daunting. His name is written in cold stone. All that’s left is this hole in the earth and a stone on top with his name. 

You walked away without sparring another glance toward the grave.

Then it seemed like you were getting better. You spoke more, ate more and slept less. You even searched out body contact with Joel, though it was just some cuddling and gentle kissing. But he took it as a step in the right direction. 

You almost fully returned to your old self but Joel could have not predicted how wrong he would be. 

He should’ve listened to his gut that told him something was off when you didn’t kiss him goodbye before he left for work that morning. 

You know how hard it will be but there’s no other choice. You have to get away, you have to leave so he can find someone better, someone who deserves a man like Joel Miller, someone less troubled, someone normal. 

Those fears you have now, always were inside of you but with your Dad passing they just all came to the surface. Grief killed you, it took everything, it’s as if you're in a room with a beautiful glowing bulb and some dark entity just rips it away. You're left in the dark and not even Joel’s light can make it better. 

You lost something nothing can replace. 

All your life you feared what would happen if you’d lose someone like this without any way of getting closure, he died without any warning just poof and gone he was. 

Your final goodbye was never said. 

Now you can’t remember how he used to be, you only remember him laying in his bed without moving a damn muscle,dead. You were the one to find him and even though it was not some unsettling scene it’s not leaving your head. You try hard to remember how he spoke that sarcastic tone he usually used. 

You can’t remember his face anymore, not even looking at pictures brings him back and at the same time he’s all you think about as if he’s haunting you. You hate him for leaving you so early. Why him? What kind of curse was laid upon you that everything always seems to fall apart when you think it’s finally working out. 

It’s as if some higher up can sense that you are happy and content with your life and they don’t want to give you that sorta life. 

The moment your brain processed what had happened you fell into the darkness like a big hole that sucked you in without any way out. Anyone around you could be another loss so what do you do? You leave, you disappear so no one gets hurt by whatever is wrong with you. 

Looking at yourself hurts because it’s him you see and it’s him you hear in your head he’s everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Sometimes you feel like you’re hallucinating because you swear to see him round the corner, you can almost hear him call out but when you try to look there’s nothing. 

Sometimes but much rarer than you’d like to admit you’ve visited the grave, sometimes you speak to no one. Sometimes you scream in agony till you almost lose consciousness from the lack of oxygen. Sometimes you just stare. 

It’s a sick twist of events considering how often he walked on cemeteries with you as a child. You didn’t understand the meaning behind them back then, you only loved to admire the beautiful flower ornaments laying on top of the graves. Your dad always told you how soothing these walks seemed for you. 

One time he took you and you had so much fun admiring the flowers giggling and smiling. Your dad wanted to tell you off since it’s a place where people grieved especially with a woman sitting nearby crying. He went to apologize to her on your behalf but the woman told him not to. She thought it was an uplifting sight to see little you having so much joy about the flowers, that’s a story he always kept telling you again and again. 

All your life those walks soothed your frayed mind. The quiet somber energy is something no other place could compare with. Now it’s the last place you’d wanna be in. The moment you step foot on the property, the panic starts to creep up on you. The closer you get to him the worse it gets. 

Sometimes the voices in your head scream to just start digging into the earth to get him out of that godforsaken coffin. Look at him, do something to bring him back. If the devil would show up to take you instead of your dad you’d do it. He was a troubled man but he tried so hard. He did not deserve any of this, he should’ve been here for all the good times yet to come. 

You imagined him walking you down the aisle, having that stupid first look with him where he’d surely try so hard not to cry but looking at his baby in a wedding dress would’ve been way too much for him to stay strong. You imagined having your first dance with him. 

You imagined how excited he would’ve been to hear that he was going to be a grandpa. In your head you can see him with a little baby that looks just like you. But none of this will ever happen; he's dead. 

Sometimes it’s hard to even look at Joel. He's connected to him as well; he was his boss and one of his closest friends. It’s not fair you know but in your head you see Joel and your dad laughing on the porch about some old men shit like always making their awful dad jokes. Or drinking a beer together or looking to fix something around the house. 

The house, Joel’s house and a place your dad spent a lot of time in. Walking through the hallways is not pleasant anymore, the couch is avoided as best as you can. He used to sit here all the time watching soccer games with Joel. The chair at the dining table he always sat on had to be removed simply seeing it made you sick and eating was already a hefty struggle since he passed. 

He left a mark anywhere and all of it was getting too much. The pressure in your head becomes more and more unbearable. 

Even though you tried to push all those negative festering thoughts away the voices could not be shut up no matter what you tried. 

The worst was when they started to go for Joel, suddenly all you could think of was how he’d die. Joel is only 10 years your dad’s junior. So if he died then why not Joel too. 

So many horrible scenarios played out inside your mind. Car accident, some freak accident on a construction site, getting attacked by multiple people, torturing him slowly, beating him to death, his head all split open, blood everywhere, or what if he gets shot by some crazy Texan who loves guns. There really was not a scenario left to imagine. 

Nightmares in the most cruel ways destroying you slowly from the inside out. And that just proved how one thing can make an avalanche of events happen. He was your purpose for most of your life, you only continued to play this game called life because you could not leave him. And now he left you. 

One time he told you how if it weren’t for you he’d be dead or in jail since there would be no reason to give a damn about his life. He was just like you, living for others instead of for himself. No one understood you like him. Somewhere deep inside you know he wouldn’t want you to blame yourself so much but that singular fact does nothing compared to all the ever suffocating darkness. 

You’d give anything to have him back, feel his warm embrace one more time, hear him say how much he loves you, have him tell you one of his stories, have him tell you it’s going to be alright, take one more look and inhale his signature scent. You have one of his shirts doused in his favorite perfume, it’s what you used to do in all those years you lived far away from him during childhood. Now it does not help like it did back then. What remains of him? Nothing, all of his stuff shoved into a storage unit looked up, buried just like him. 

You know Joel tried hard to be supportive and not push you too hard. Sometimes you wished he would’ve just screamed at you, slapped some sense into you and told you to stop being such a disgraceful mess. That’s what they would’ve done. 

But Joel is not like that,  he helped you so much. Putting himself so far behind. So much so that you feel sorry he has to deal with an ill girlfriend, that’s what you are, a mental wreck. 

He deserves better treatment than the lackluster one you have given him in the last months. He deserves to be free of your weight dragging him down towards the abyss. Even though he told you in the beginning that he loves you with all the baggage and all the challenges, you cannot let him continue to waste his time. 

Besides you’re convinced he’d leave you anyway like everyone before one way or another you end up alone. You have no control of the situation but if you leave then you have the control it still hurts but it’s the only option in your head. 

The decision was made weeks ago, it felt wrong to lie to Joel to keep him thinking everything is fine only to then rip it all away but perhaps it’ll make him hate you so it’s easier. If he hates you then he will be able to move on with his life. Burn all you build together down.

 And then you knew today would be the day. You couldn’t bear to kiss him in the morning; it would only make everything harder. Some time after he left you got up. One last time using the shower you both occasionally used together having foam party’s, giggling, washing each other and then kissing, touching till it leads to you with your cheek squished against the tile and Joel behind you ferociously hitting that special spot inside of you, till you both reach your high. Now you’re alone staring at that specific spot in the tiles, too much so you turn away. 

One last time looking at yourself in the mirror above the sink, the mirror Joel and you both looked into while brushing your teeth. You dry your hair, put on fresh clothes, nothing too dramatic, just some simple black leggings and a black cotton shirt. 

Then you start packing the most important stuff into two big suitcases. Basically only clothes, some hygiene products and a few trinkets that you don’t want to leave behind. The rest can be either sold by Joel or thrown away. You don’t care, the less holding you back the better. 

Once the suitcases are packed you haul them down the stairs towards the front door. And then you just wait. For hours you sit at the dining table just staring ahead at the wall opposite where so many photos of Joel and you hang so many memories and you’ll destroy it. 

You should feel bad but these days you barely feel anything, numb is what you think you feel most of the time. Maybe that’s what your ex meant when he said that you don’t own a heart, that you’re a cold blooded mean person. Someone who plays with people until they stop serving their purpose, that's what he said. 

It’s almost 8pm, Joel should be home soon. You have practically studied the words you’ll say. An Uber already ordered to arrive 15 minutes after he should get home. Not much to talk about the less the easier so you can just walk away. 

Then you hear it, Joel’s truck driving up the driveway and coming to a halt. How he gets out and slams the door shut behind him. His keys jiggling while he searches for the right one. Unlocking the door and closing it behind him. You don’t turn towards him although you know he must be looking at you in astonishment. He can not miss the suitcases and something about the lack of his words tells you he knows exactly what this means. 

Joel cannot believe what he walked into, he knew something was off but just thought that he was starting to imagine things but here you are sitting like an empty shell of yourself and the packed suitcases can only mean one thing, he tries his hardest not to freak out that won’t make anything better. 

He starts walking towards you, slowly, once he reaches the threshold of the living room he speaks up 

“Moon, Darling what’s goin on?” He immediately continues “What’s with those suitcases, huh?” He can’t even hide the nervous quiver in his voice. 

You turn to finally look at him with empty eyes, get up and walk up to him and then “I have to leave.” And with that you move to walk past him but Joel stops you by reaching for you arm, you immediately pull your arm away hissing “Don’t fuckin touch me Joel.” 

He’s stunned by this harsh rejection, his expression full of hurt. Yet he persists by getting close, grabbing your face with both hands, his warm calloused hands that you love- loved so much. He urges “Talk to me baby, what is going on, why would ya need to leave?” Even with everything he tried to be gentle, his voice panicked yet almost just a whisper. 

He can see in your eyes some sadness creeping in when you mutter “Joel..-“ you take one deep inhale “-…this House no longer feels like home.” He can tell even with how hard you try to appear collected that it pains you to say those words. “Wh…what do ya mean? If- if the house is the problem we can just move.” You cut in “No Joel, no i..I don’t love you anymore. Ok? I can’t stay here any longer.” 

It’s a punch right into his gut there’s no way you are serious. “Baby all ya stuff is here you can’t just leave.” He tries to find something to buy him time. “I don’t care Joel just…just throw it away or sell it or I don’t know fuckin burn it. I won’t need it anyway.” He’s so shocked that you use that to continue your path towards the front door and the waiting suitcases. 

On top of one suitcase lies a tote bag containing your phone, a jacket and your wallet sits. You swing it over your shoulder, you can hear that Joel has started crying, his huffed breaths are all you can hear. 

That’s when a car starts honking outside, the Uber is here, you go to open the front door twisting the knob you can hear him walking up behind you with heavy steps. You open the door anyway with him at your back and you move the suitcases out onto the porch. Joel’s trying his hardest to contain his sobbing to a minimum but it’s hard he loves you so much, he thinks about the ring in his wardrobe hidden behind stuff you’d never go for and he thinks about the talks you two had of having a baby. If only he knew 

His heart is breaking watching you walk away from all of it. You turn to him, one last time, he looks shattered, you've never seen Joel like this, you give him a nod as if to give him the ok to touch you one more time if only to give some kind of closure. He moves closer without hesitation and takes your face in his hands once more and leans his forehead against yours. His frantic breathing collides with your face and then “Wh…why Baby just why?” He sobs A simple question and you decide to give him at least something you reach up to put your hands over his to get him to open his eyes. 

“Joel I’m not myself anymore, i-…i feel so all over the place and I’m so scared.” Tears start clouding your sight. “I need to be away from everything. I need to be alone far away to just maybe find some peace. I need to be gone.” And the tears start falling “No matter where I look I can’t stop seeing him and it’s crushing me.” Now you're full on crying. He’s processing what you’re saying and somewhere in his mind he understands that, still he can’t believe this is it. 

“Ok-….if ya need to go at least promise you’ll give some sorta sign ya alright?” He looks desperate “Please Baby….please just a text something anything.” You only nod and then pull out of his grasp, take the suitcases and shakinly make your way to the Uber. Joel can only watch and hope you’ll stick to your words, hope that you’ll find some kind of way back to yourself. 

The Uber driver gets out as you approach and opens the trunk helping to put the suitcases in there. Then you walk to the right door on the back, open it and hesitate for a moment. Joel holds his breath but you continue to slip into the backseat. Closing the door and off the car goes. Joel doesn’t know for how much longer he stood on the porch long after the car was gone. What was there is no more. 

Npt: @almostfoxglove @joelmillerisapunk @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelslegalwhre @thundermartini @studioghibelli @sizzlingcloudmentality @vivian-pascal @strang3lov3 @xdaddysprincessxx @mountainsandmayhem @mrsmando @joelsgreys @janaispunk @the-mandawhor1an @rivnedell (honestly I’m tagging pretty randomly, sorry) 💙

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻