adelliet · 2 months ago
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Wolverine x f!reader
5 DAYS IN HEAVEN
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Summary: Since Wade is going away on a mission, he asks you to take care of his roommate. At first you will refuse, but in the end you will be so freaking grateful.
Warnings: MDNI 18+, age gap, strong language, masturbation, breast play, oral sex (f!receiving), unprotected sex (p i v), little blood, reader is smaller than Logan
A/n: This is so freaking long I'm so terribly sorry I got really into it, so I am sorry if there will be some grammar mistakes or some parts that won't make sense, I'm not a native English speaker, anyways enjoy <3
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"Fuck no Wade!" you shut your eyes as you frustrated shouted. "Please I need this!" he kept trying to convince you, reaching for your hands but you flinched. "I'm not going to make you a fucking housewife, have you lost your mind?" you asked, beginning to doubt about men's IQ at this point. “Not for me but for Logan” he corrected you as if that made a difference. “It's literally the same” you turned your back as you walked into the kitchen, Wade following you like a dog on a leash. "Please, I'll do anything!"
You stopped for a second. You've never heard Wade so desperate and you've known him for five years and as a neighbor, you know his behavior very well, this is not like him at all.
"Why do you care about him so much?" you asked, leaning against the fridge with your hands tied across your chest. "He's my bestfriend! I love him-" "Okay now it's getting weird" you turned around again as you poured some water into a clean glass.
"Please I can't lose him because he starved, I need my fuckbuddy-" you almost choked as you heard Wade's words while drinking. Never drink while Wade is talking, noted. "And why can't you just take him with you?" you turn around and furrow your eyebrows. "It's not that easy pumpkin" you rolled your eyes but didn't give up to find some other way.
"So he would order fast food, what's the matter?" "Do I look like I have enough money to feed a giant who eats like a beast?" you sigh in annoyance as you slowly realize that there probably isn't other way to solve this. "Wade, I can't cook for him-" "Why not? You're the best cook I know! Please, just for five days, no more!"
When you saw his beggar eyes, you had no choice. You sigh loudly and close your eyes as your head drops. "Fine." You growl and immediately regretted your decision as Wade grabbed you and spun you around at breakneck speed. "Jesus alright stop I'm gonna throw up!" Wade placed you back on the floor and you struggled to keep your balance. But when your vision was no longer blurry, Wade’s excited face warmed your heart. "Thank you so much! I owe you I swear!"
He gave you one last kiss on the cheek before he left your apartment. You could hear him excitedly screaming in the hallway, even on his way to his apartment. You chuckle and shake your head, he is really a child stuck in a 30 year old body.
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You don't really know Logan. You know that he moved in with Wade and they started living together, but you never found out why. Besides, you didn't even have much interaction with him, mainly because of his expression.
He still looks angry and sour, whenever you see him in the hall, you try to avoid him, because his stern expression sent you dread and goosebumps all over your body. Unlike Wade, he didn't look like a friendly neighbor who comes to visit you when he needs sugar or flour.
Rather, he looked exactly like the neighbor who just complains about you every chance he gets. You were a little afraid of the deal, going to cook for him and who knows what will happen if he doesn't like it. What if he spits on you? Or do anything worse?
You were only comforted by the thought that you would only go to him a few times a day and then you could lock yourself away and be safe. Your thoughts about Logan and the whole deal were interrupted by an aggressive pounding on your door. You immediately knew who it was.
You sighed when you saw Wade in the doorway, rudely barging into your apartment without asking. But you're used to it.
"So when are you moving in?" your eyes almost fell out of their sockets when Wade threw this question at you without hesitation. "What are you talking about?!" you tried not to think the worst, unfortunately it was the worst. "Well, you'll be living in my apartment during my absence-" you pointed index finger at him and shook him. "No no no, you didn't say that!" Wade stopped. "I thought it was obvious..."
Your heart was beating a hundred and six and your blood was at boiling point. "Wade! I'm not living with that psychopath!" you lost your shit and started screaming at him. Wade was still calm. “He's not that bad” you were shocked at his words and how easily he was letting them out of his mouth.
"Wade! What if he kills me?" Wade rolled his eyes and shook his head. "He won't kill you, don't worry, if something happens stab him...even though it probably wouldn't help" you started being red from how angry you were. "Why can't I stay here?" you finally asked him the main question.
"You know, I'm afraid something will happen to him, I want you to watch over him" you just started to mock Wade’s patheticness. Oh you are so done. "No….no! I am not gonna do it" "Ah come on sweetheart" Wade grabbed your hands so tightly that you couldn't even break free from his grip.
"I swear I'll give you anything for this, I'll be grateful to you for the rest of my life...just 5 days, please" even as you fought with every nerve and muscle in your body to refuse, his convincing eyes got you again and you let out an annoyed breath.
Wade immediately understood that you agreed and pulled you into a tight hug. "Thankyouthankyouthankyou" he kept thanking you and you started seeing stars for a moment from his tight grip. Again and again you regretted your decision and wanted to get a fake passport, change your identity and fly far away. Unfortunately, this option will not work.
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First day
The time had come for you to introduce yourself to Logan and move in. You only had a small bag over your shoulders, where were your clothes, hygiene items and necessary things. Even if you miss something, you can always go to the apartment next door, aka your home.
“Look, I'm just warning you, Logan can be a little…rude sometimes” Wade told you and you nodded. You already deduced that yourself from his face expressions. Even so, you wanted to be nice and make an impression on him, maybe he'll be a little softer if he sees you smiling.
“Alright, here we go” Wade looked even more nervous than you. When he grabbed the doorknob and went inside, Logan was nowhere to be found. You slowly followed Wade, looking for the grumpy big guy. But suddenly the door to the room opened and the famous, rude Logan came out.
He was wearing a brown shirt and jeans with a belt, now that you had a chance to get a good look at him, he didn't look so bad. "Logan!" Wade squealed excitedly while Logan still had a stern look on his face.
When his eyes landed on you, he didn't move a single muscle, unlike you. You were sweating, your smile was twitching but you tried to keep your cool. "Who is that?" he pointed at you and slowly walked closer. "So glad you're asking, Logan, this is your temporary housewife"
You were quiet but still smiling, while holding your hand for a shake. Logan rolled his eyes and moved his head from your sight in annoyance. That's a nice welcoming. "I don't fucking need her" you would be lying if those words didn't touch you a little, but Wade warned you, so you were at least half prepared for it.
You slowly dropped your hand back to your body and looked at Wade in confusion. "Well if he doesn't need me, I can go-" "No! Stay!" he grabbed your shoulder and looked angrily at Logan. "We already talk about this, be nice" he hissed through his clenched teeth and Logan just sighed. He looked back at you, that annoyed look still on his face. He was literally screaming through that face that he wants to kick you out and he really doesn't want you here. Your smile slowly dropped and you started overthinking, how the following 5 days would look like, with this grumpy rude man.
"Good kitty" Wade complimented Logan who growled back at him. "Well, the kitchen is over there, I'll show you your room and then I'll have to go, the mission awaits!" Wade got behind you and pushed you forward past Logan, who was staring at you but still with an annoyed and slightly confused expression.
"Well, put your things here and I have to go. Bye bye and thank you, I owe you” Wade quickly led you into the guest room, patting you on the shoulders before disappearing out of the apartment, leaving you and the curmudgeon alone.
You just let out a tired sigh before putting your bag on the floor and looking around the room. It was small but cozy. Even the view from the window wasn't bad, certainly better than in your own apartment.
“What's your name again?” you suddenly heard a deep growl and you quickly flinched as you quickly turned towards the voice. Logan was leaning against the doorframe, his hands wrapped around his chest, his biceps nearly tearing through the soft fabric he was wearing.You swallowed before looking into his face again and began to speak.
“Y/N…yours is Logan right? you tried to be nice again, thinking that the beginning was just a misunderstanding. God you are so pathetic. “Guess” he replied arrogantly and you pursed your lips into a thin line as embarrassment flooded your entire body.
"'kay...well it's kinda late, I'll go prepare some food" you informed him and Logan just nodded before walking off to who knows where. You were relieved when he left. As if his presence made you nervous, but not because of fear, but rather because of another feeling that you couldn't quite describe.
You came to the kitchen and started to assemble the ingredients on the counter. You decided to make spaghetti since that was the only thing they had all the ingredients for and looking around the fridge made you want to buy more stuff tomorrow. Apart from milk, some old rotting food and beer, they had nothing at all, men.
When you were almost done with the spaghetti, it was as if the smell summoned Logan without you having to say anything. He suddenly appeared in the kitchen watching you put spaghetti on two plates and pour tomato sauce over them. “I hope you like spaghetti” you said looking at Logan who surprisingly wasn't looking at the food like you thought, but at you. That caught you off guard a bit but not for too long.
"Mhm yeah" he said and immediately grabbed the plate when you finally added the basil leaves. Why are you even trying to decorate the food, you are not in a fancy restaurant here, but at Wade’s home. You just rolled your eyes and put noodles on your own plate. Logan's hungry chewing was making your ears pop and you couldn't wait to enjoy your dinner in quiet in your room.
No sooner had you added the spaghetti to your plate and decided to go into your room to eat, than Logan was already done with his food and obediently put the plate in the sink. Your eyes widened, Wade was right, this man eats like a beast.
"Do you want more?" he just shook his head as he wiped his red mouth with his hand and went straight into his own room. "m'kay" you whispered to yourself and since he left the living room, you decided to change your plan and eat while watching some TV.
This isn't so bad. If Logan answers with two words and doesn't have any long conversations with you where he just taunts you, 5 days will go by like nothing.
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Second day
You got up early because of the annoying alarm and went to get ready for work. You changed into comfortable but formal clothes, put on some make-up and took your bag. When you left the room, no one was there. You sighed with a smile and went straight to the front door.
Apparently Logan doesn't go to work, which you were a little envious of. He can sleep as long as he wants, then practically do whatever he wants for days, surely he must be a little bored if he's not saving the world.
"Where you're goin'?" you froze in a place when you heard Logan. You slowly turned around, and your eyes widened even more. He had nothing on than boxers, revealing his muscles, abs, and perfect body, which made your saliva fly from your lips.
You quickly wiped it off and looked back into his face. God he was hot. His hair was messy but fluffy, his face looked relaxed and tired but that stern look wasn't there anymore. "I- I am goin' to work" you answered with a shaky voice, for which you immediately cursed.
"What work?" his voice was also grainy and deep, he was literally hypnotizing you right now. "Why do you care?" you finally gain your confidence back and he rolled his eyes. "Geez just askin'" he went to the bathroom without saying bye or something like that. You didn't mind, the only thing that was bothering your brain was, why was he so interested?
Just yesterday he didn't want you here at all and now he's worried about you, that you'll leave him? You probably just overthinking. You took your keys and left the apartment as fast as you could.
When you arrived at the restaurant, your colleagues greeted you and you put on the fake mask with a smile. You changed into your suit and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes with the others.
"Hey everything okay? You look pretty frustrated" one of your colleagues asked and it took you a while to process his question. "What? Oh no it's nothing don't worry" you added a convincing smile at the end of the sentence and continued washing. Of course you're frustrated when you have nothing but Logan in your head, his body, his speech, his hair... this is going to be a fucking tough day.
When your shift ended, you were surprised you hadn't been fired. You were confused all day, mixing up orders, got in the way of your colleagues and even burned food a few times. Each of your colleagues asked you several times if everything was okay and you always gave the same answer. Yes, it is. You didn't understand it yourself, how could you be so stupid today and burn the food? This hasn't happened to you in at least 5 years...
All this happened because of your constant thoughts about Logan. You don't even know how it's possible. After all, he's Logan, the guy you were afraid of and would do anything to avoid him...but that was before you've seen him shirtless in boxers. God those thighs, just thinking about them makes your core vibrate.
Frustrated, devastated and tired, you arrived at your temporary apartment, threw your bag on the floor and leaned against the door with your eyes closed. "Tough day?" you hear that annoying but really sexy voice again, but this time it wasn't in your head.
You open your eyes and saw Logan, sitting on the couch with a can of beer, at least this time he was fully dressed. You didn't even have the strength to answer him with words, you just nodded your head. After that you crawled into your room where you had to clear your head for a while, you laid in bed and just stared at the ceiling.
After a while you heard footsteps, but luckily they crossed your room. Was it really fortunate, or rather unfortunately? Your head was a total mess. Now you could use a hot bath with rose petals and a candle around. This actually didn't sound bad at all, so you decided to indulge.
You got out of bed and went straight to the bathroom where you filled the bath and let out a tired sigh. You probably won't have rose petals and candles, but the bathtub is more than enough. You closed the door, not even bothering about locking it, and took off your clothes. When the water was almost full, you turned the water off and lay down in it, a pleasant growl left your mouth, when the hot water covers all your body. You feel more relaxed than ever.
You closed your eyes and in the blink of an eye, all of your fails today and thoughts of Logan were gone. You listened to the water and the silence around you which was more pleasant than ever before. You felt like you were going to fall asleep in no time, this was exactly what you needed. Until you heard the door slam open.
You flinched and immediately looked at them in fear. Logan eyes widened a bit, when he saw you in the bathtub, but after that one second look he looked down immediately, embarrassed. "Sorry" he said and left the bathroom before you could react in any way.
You were shocked, did Logan really think you wouldn't notice the quick check out before he looks down? Well, now you will definitely not stop thinking about him and it's all your fault. If you'd just locked the stupid door, this wouldn't have happened.
You came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel holding your clothes in your hand. You got another jumpscare when Logan was standing by the bathroom, leaning against the wall. How long was he there? Was he waiting for you or was he eavesdropping on you? You had so many questions but so little time.
"Hey um sorry for that" he didn't even look you in the eyes, apparently he's really sorry. "It's fine just, did you see anything?" Logan took a deep breath and looked into your eyes, giving you a clear sign that he saw something. "Oh my god-" you slammed your hand against your forehead and started flushing.
"Not everything! Just um..." "Stop. Just, act like it didn't happen okay?" you were even more frustrated than before and Logan could tell. He just nodded and walked around you to get into the bathroom. You cursed under your breath and walked into your room, where you finally locked the door and fell into bed.
Is it some kind of sign or bad karma that this is happening to you? First you see him almost naked, then he sees you, why do you deserve this? But the question that really played over and over in your head was, did he like what he saw?
He would have covered his eyes or closed the door immediately, but he just stood there watching you for a while longer. Maybe he was in shock, just like you, and you're overthinking again, or maybe not…
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Third day
You got up in the morning like you always did, did your morning routine and left for work, this time no Logan, no comments from him and it made you feel better. You knew that today was going to be a lot better than yesterday.
You didn't even have to put on a fake mask at work, you smiled for real because you had peace of mind from Logan both in your head and in the apartment in the morning. "Hey why so happy?" your colleague asked and you just shook your head. "I just slept well" which was not entirely true.
You couldn't stop thinking about that motherfucker all night. The way he looked when he saw you in that bathtub, how embarrassed he felt but also looked shy, which you would never say to such a tough guy. How he talks to you much more warmly now and how he even washes his dishes without you telling him to do it. You even had a dream about him that wasn't exactly innocent with rainbows and roses, rather the opposite. But that didn't stop you from having a bad day at work. Until you heard the familiar grumpy voice again.
"Is she here?!" "Sir, you can't talk to her right now-" "I just want to know if she works here!" oh no. You heard the angry punch into the table and knew you had to intervene. You stopped working and went from the kitchen to the restaurant behind the cash register, where was none other than the ass Logan. When he saw you, he immediately calmed down and straightened up.
"Hey, what's going on here?" you asked confused, trying to ignore Logan as best you could. "Um this gentleman is asking for you, is he your boyfriend?" "Fuck no!" you shouted, maybe a bit too much then was a necessary and looked at Logan. "The fuck you doin' here?!" this time you keep your voice low but still rough. Logan took a breath to speak but before he could, you grabbed him and went to the corner, so you won't bother the other customers.
"I um" you were surprised that he was out of words. "Goddammit just tell me!" "I was just curious where you workin' okay?! That's all..." although you haven't known Logan very long and well, you could tell he was lying. However, you didn't have time to investigate the truth so you just let out an annoyed breath.
"You can't be that aggressive here! If you don't order anything, get out!" and with those words you left him behind while walking back into the kitchen. Not gonna lie but you felt a little confident when you did this but you also felt a little guilty.
You are not the aggressive bad type like him, you find sympathy in people and you are a peaceful person who tries not to have a conflict with almost anyone. Logan is a really tough piece.
"Everything fine?" you coworker asked while frying some vegetables and you just nodded. How could you be so naive to think you'd slip through today without a single thought about Logan? You really are pathetic.
When you finished your last order, said goodbye to your colleagues and went to change clothes, fatigue hit you again. Today was better than yesterday, you were more focused and you didn't burn anything, but you still weren't yourself. You were still consumed by your thoughts and memories that your brain repeated over and over again, it was driving you crazy.
The only thing you hoped for now was that last night and the incident with Logan wouldn't happen again. You still can't tell if you liked it or not, but what you know for sure is that you can't stop thinking about that.
You left the kitchen ready to go home until you saw Logan sitting in one of the dining booths, alone, half asleep. He scared you again, like always, and you didn't know what to do, how to react, or what to say. When Logan saw you, he immediately stood up and was like a fresh fish.
"You're done?" he asked, like it wasn't weird at all that he is there sitting and waiting for you like your dad. "W-what are you doing here?" "I was waiting..." he didn't finish the sentence but he clearly meant that he was waiting for you. "Why?" you furrow your eyebrows in suspicion.
"It's pretty dark out there, something may happen" why is he so caring suddenly? Was he really waiting for you here all day, just to give you a walk home? Why? "I've been walking in the dark for years Logan and nothing happened to me" you informed him arrogantly and headed for the exit. Logan chased you like an obedient dog. "You never know" he added and quickly held the door for you like a true gentleman. You paused at his act for a moment before walking out and Logan following.
It was an awkward silent walk next to each other where you said so much but nothing at all. The street was quiet, hardly any cars passed by, and the glowing lamps around gave a pleasant atmosphere. You felt good, and maybe Logan's presence added something to that. After all, you were afraid to walk alone in the evening, even though nothing had happened to you yet, but with him you felt different, safe.
"What's for dinner?" Logan finally broke the quiet silence and struck up a conversation. "Oh um I don't know...maybe salad? If you don't mind there won't be any meat in it" Logan chuckled, hearing that laugh make your heart a little warmer. "Salad sound's good" he said as you arrive at the building.
When you got into the apartment you expected Logan to go take a shower or lock himself in his room like he always did, but this time was different. When you took off your coat and hung it on the hanger, Logan was standing in the kitchen waiting for you. You raise an eyebrow and throw a confused look at him. "You're that excited for the food or?" he shook his head and smiled. That's right, he smiled. You had no idea when did his tough-guy personality snap, but he is way nicer to you and you can't say you don't like it.
"Nope, I was thinking that I could help you..." you froze and just stared at him, still with that raised eyebrow. You were shocked, you didn't recognize him anymore. Logan notices your behavior, immediately having regrets. "but only if you want to-" "No! I mean yeah s-sure" you finally woke up and walked around Logan to get things ready. However, you couldn't escape the smirk that formed on your face.
As you pulled out the bowls and cutlery, you felt Logan's presence behind you. He was huge compared to you, covering you completely and you almost held your breath when you felt him almost touching your body. "What should I do?" he asked, his voice grainy, deep and low like a wolf, making you tremble from excitement.
You needed a second to answer him without any mistake or stuttering. “You can take the vegetables out of the fridge” you pointed your head at the fridge next to you and without a word Logan did as you told him. He put everything on the counter next to you and you couldn't help but watch his hands, how big and hairy they were and a lot of scenarios automatically appeared in your head of what you would like him to do to you with them.
"That's all we have" he breathed out and finally stood next to you, so that his dick wasn't touching your ass anymore. "That's fine, we can make something from that" you grabbed the cucumber and started removing the wrapper. Logan was watching you, really carefully and constantly watching your hand, the way you were holding that cucumber, the way you were taking off the wrapper, god he immediately started getting goosebumps and his dick started twitching in his pants.
"Give me a sec" he said quickly and left. You looked at him confused and flinched a bit when you heard the bathroom door slam. You just shrugged and continued to unwrap the cucumber. He probably just went to piss or something.
After you had almost half the vegetables cut to a small squares and thrown in a bowl, Logan finally returned. "Finally, I was thinking you ran away" Logan just chuckled awkwardly but said nothing. He watched you cut the pepper and finally decided to help you.
He took another pepper and a knife and started cutting it on the table. You didn't really care if he destroyed the table or not, it wasn't your kitchen after all. After you finished chopping all the vegetables, tossed the salad with the dressing, and Logan gave it a good toss, you were ready to feast.
You split the salad into two bowls, the same amount for each, and dipped a fork into it. Logan waited until you filled the second bowl as well, which was a little unusual as normally he would have already started eating and not even waiting for you.
Aftwr you take your bowl and Logan take his, you decided to go into the room to eat but Logan stopped you. "Hey I was thinking if you wanna watch a movie together?" again, his random nice behavior caught you by surprise. Where did the grumpy guy who literally didn't even want you in this apartment go? Apparently he's gone forever.
“Oh um…sure why not” you smiled and Logan went to sit on the couch where he was already holding the remote and selecting a movie. You obediently sat next to him, but at a sufficient distance so that you had enough space and it wasn't some kind of awkward, uncomfortable situation.
"Do you have any ideas?" he asked you as he kept switching between films. "Umm I don't know, I don't really care" you said as you finally took a bite of the salad, which was really fucking good. "Okay, you asked for it" he said and selected a horror movie called Evil Dead Rise. "Awh man this looks nasty" you said as you still chew the salad and scrunch your face in disgust. Logan just giggled and took his first bite too.
After a while watching the movie, you remembered that you are fucking scared of horrors. That film was chill at first, but after the first jump scare, you knew you are fucked. You tried to focus on the salad and not being some crybaby, but your fear got the better of you. When another jumpscare appeared, you almost throw you salad on the floor.
Logan, on the other hand, didn't move a single muscle the whole time watching. He was like a rock with a stern expression. The second he noticed your reaction, he had to look and intervene somehow. "Are you okay?" He asked and you just nodded, but your body said the opposite. You were shaking, wrapped in a ball and your eyes were bawling, the exact definition of a person being terrified to death.
Logan wasn't stupid and he knew you'd probably be peeing with fear in no time. That's why, regardless of the awkwardness of the situation, he scooted closer to you at first, seeing how you're gonna react. The closeness didn't bother you at all, so Logan put an arm around you, making you feel even safer.
"Is that 'kay?" he whispered in your ear, looking down at you while your eyes were securely locked with the TV. You nodded slightly and laid your head on his muscular chest, covered by gray shirt. It was comforting to hear his regular heartbeat. You felt amazing.
You don't even remember the last time you cuddle with someone like that. You don't care that it's Logan, all you focused on was the feeling. The way his body warmed yours, the way he made gentle circles with his finger on your shoulder and the way he breathed, these combinations made you forget about your fear.
After a while your eyelids started to feel heavy and you felt tiredness coming over you. But you were so comfortable that you didn't want to leave anywhere and that's why you succumbed to sleep really quickly on Logan's body.
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Fourth day
You grunted as rubbed your eyes. You lay in bed with your eyes closed for a while until you realized you had to go to work. Your eyes popped open and you sat on the bed as fast as you could. You looked around rashly, realizing you were in your room under the covers. But when you quickly checked the alarm clock, it was damn late. "Fuck!" you shouted and jumped from the bed like a lightning bolt.
You quickly started changing and getting ready for work, even though you were already 3 hours late. The whole time you were cursing under your breath and your heart was beating in the fastest way possible. If they don't fire you today, they never will.
After you were all ready you ran for your bag and went to the door. You've never gotten ready so quickly before. Suddenly you heard the door open and immidiately knew it was Logan. However, you didn't have time for his comments.
"Hey, what's going on?" he asked, rubbing his eyes. When you quickly glanced at him, he looked pretty tired, like he woke up just now. In addition, he had only boxers again, messy hair and his voice was so fucking rough. When you looked at him you felt a weird feeling in your stomach. "I'm late" you said as you were putting your shoes on. Logan was processing your answer for a bit before he spoke again.
"Oh, work..." he groaned as he realized what you were late for. You just ignore him and give him a quick goodbye before you closed the door and ran to the elevator.
As soon as you opened the door to the restaurant, you ran to the dressing room to change. You tried to be so fast but you were just clumsy and rash. Your chef's suit was crooked and not even all the buttons were on when you appeared in the kitchen, trying immediately blend in. "Oh there you are! Where have you been?" one of your colleagues asked, cutting vegetables next to you. You just shake your head.
"Long night" you sighed tiredly and cooperated with preparing the food. "You're lucky boss wasn't here, you would be cooked" you look at him as he said that and you both giggled at that stupid joke. "Go fuck yourself" you nudged him with your shoulder and shook your head. But he was right, you have much more luck than sense.
You spent last night in Logan's arms and after you woke up and put yourself back together, you realized that he carried you into your room. It's not his fault you overslept, it's yours.
You shouldn't have fallen asleep, you should have just gotten up, said good night and gone to set that stupid alarm clock. But whenever you remember the feeling of him caressing you, how comforting his chest was as a pillow, how his chest smoothly rose up and down, every time your knees got week and you feel that weird feeling in your stomach. You knew what that feeling was and you hated to admit it, but you catched feelings for Logan.
You can't stop thinking about him ever since the first day, you have unchristian dreams about him and you always catch yourself watching him for too long. You never thought you'd like a bad boy, but here we are.
When you were already cleaning the kitchen and getting ready to leave, you noticed a familiar person sitting in the restaurant as one of the last ones.
Your curiosity got the better of you and you peeked more into the restaurant. Of course that the familiar figure was Logan. Again, he didn't have anything ordered, he just sat quietly and stared into nothing. You couldn't help but smile at him when.
You went to change and said goodbye to the others as you headed for the exit. You pretended not to see Logan and ignored him until he instantly came up to you. "Hey, how was work?" he asked as he gentlemanly opened the door for you and waited. You felt your cheeks heat up and you had to look down.
"It was fine, except for the morning..." you chuckle nervously. "Yeah, were you too late?" he asked as he walked closer to the road making you back up a bit. Another discreet gentlemanly move. "3 hours late..." "Damn" his eyes widened as his mouth surprisingly twitches. "Yeah, but luckily I didn't get fired so" Logan laughed and nodded his head in agreement.
"Anyway, any ideas for dinner tonight?" Logan's efforts to keep the conversation going tickled your heart. "Mhmm honestly I don't know…how about pizza?" you looked up at his face waiting for reaction. "Like homemade pizza?" Logan looked into your eyes and you tried to hold eye contact as long as you could. “Of course duh” Logan smiled at your addition and nodded his head. "Sure why not"
You were slicing salami while Logan poured a ketchup mix over the pizza dough. "What about some music?" he asked, still focusing on the smearing. You stopped cutting and looked at him. "Music?" you asked, giving him a confused look. He nodded, looking at you too and when he saw your expression, he stopped his actions and went somewhere.
You were watching him, as he walked to the radio and pressed something on it until a song started playing. Your smile widened and you started laughing, when you saw Logan dancing. He was moving his hips awkwardly and you can see that he really can't dance. His danced moves could be compared to dad style in the 80s.
You needed to cover your mouth and hold your stomach, because the laughter started to hurt, but you couldn't stop. Logan looked at you and held out his hand in front of him as he approached you. You shook your head and almost collapsed on the ground laughing. "Come on!" he shook his hand, convincing you to join him.
After a lot of refusing and giggling, Logan finally convinced you to dance. When you grabbed his hand, he immediately took advantage of it and pulled you a little closer to his body. You squeal a bit at the sudden move, but you immediately cooperated.
You held each other's hands and did little circles with them as your legs scuttle back and forth. You laughed and squirmed, Logan spun you around from time to time and you enjoyed it as much as you could. This is one of those moments that sticks deep in your head. A memory that will always popped up, whenever you hear Logan.
The music pulsed softly through the air, a fast, intoxicating rhythm that seemed to wrap around you and Logan like a delicate thread, pulling you closer. You couldn’t help but glance up at him, your eyes locking for a heartbeat too long, and the intensity there sent a rush of heat to your cheeks.
You tried to focus on the steps, on the sway of the dance, but something about the way Logan’s body moved with yours was deeply distracting. His scent, clean and warm, enveloped you, making your pulse quicken in ways you couldn’t ignore.
Then, without warning, your leg caught the edge of his, and you stumbled, your balance suddenly thrown off. Logan’s arms shot out, catching you before you could fall, pulling you tightly against him to steady you. For a moment, everything seemed to stop, your breath, the world, even the music seemed to fade into the background as you realized just how close you were.
Your faces were mere inches apart, your lips almost brushing his. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, his gaze dropping to your mouth for just a fleeting second before meeting your eyes again. The air between you crackled with tension, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. Everything about this moment screamed for you to close that agonizingly small distance, to let yourself get lost in the magnetic pull between you.
Logan’s grip on you tightened ever so slightly, his chest rising and falling in sync with yours as he fought against the same urge. You could see it in his eyes, the desire, the restraint, the way he was holding himself back even though every inch of him seemed to be aching to close the gap. His gaze flickered down to your lips again, and this time, it lingered longer. You swallowed hard, your lips parting slightly, as if you were subconsciously inviting him to make the move.
For a moment, you both stood at the edge of temptation, teetering on that invisible line. Neither of you spoke, afraid that even a whisper might break the fragile tension and push you over the edge. Your bodies pressed together, heat pooling between you, your breaths shallow and in sync.
But then, something held both of you back. Maybe it was the weight of all that had led to this moment, the fear of crossing a line you couldn’t uncross, or maybe it was the unspoken agreement to savor this tension just a little longer. Neither of you moved, though the pull between you was undeniable. The space between your lips remained tantalizingly close, yet untouched.
“Close call,” he murmured, his voice a mixture of humor and the tension he was trying so hard to rein in.
You smiled, feeling your own pulse slowly return to normal, though the lingering heat of the moment still burned between you. “Too close,” you whispered back, your eyes holding his for a second longer before you reluctantly eased back, just enough to regain some space, some clarity.
“We should finish that” Logan gently let go of you and pointed his head to the half-done pizza in the kitchen. You nodded in agreement, still dazed from the situation that just happened and from the feelings you experienced. You were a little disoriented, just as Logan except, he could hid it better.
After you finished the pizza, the atmosphere wasn't so stiff anymore. Logan was telling funny stories about his past and you just laughed and tried not to get overwhelmed by his gorgeous face. Sometimes when you listened to Logan, the world slowed down and everything was black and white except for him. He shone like the brightest star in the darkness.
After enjoying dinner, cleaning the dishes together and saying good night, you couldn't even fall asleep. You couldn't shake the thought of Logan, that moment when your lips were so dangerously close and even though you didn't have any superpowers, you could feel that he wanted it just as much as you did.
Feeling his beard brushing against your soft skin, feeling his tongue inside your mouth, you could just dream about it. Also, tomorrow is the last day. You don't know if it's good or bad, you don't know if you're happy or just afraid, you don't know anything at all. After all, deep down in your head you had a soft spot and a longing for Logan.
Inwardly, you longed to spend a few more days with him, a few nights alone and see what would happen. This overthinking went too far, you kept your eyes open all night and stared at the ceiling, while outside the birds started whistling and sun rising.
It's here, the last morning in this bed, the last dinner with Logan, the last day.
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Fifth day
You stayed up all night, your stomach churning at the thought that today is final day. At the same time, you couldn't get that moment between you and Logan out of your mind, when just a milimeter was missing and your lips would be stuck together. The desire for Logan, the need to always have him with you and not let him go, was growing by every minute. His smell of cigarettes and scotch always tickled your olfactory cells. Every time you felt him, it was like your heart burst with excitement. But now you couldn't smell it, the only thing that tickled your nose was the steam from the food in restaurant.
"Hey, are you okay?" a colleague nudged your shoulder. "Huh? Yeah I am fine, I am fine..." you weren't fine. The thought of packing up your clothes today and moving back to your apartment, alone. That there will be no one here to hug and protect you while watching a horror movie, that no one will help you prepare dinner, these thoughts were pressing all the points to make you cry.
Despite all these emotions, you tried to keep yourself in check and continue working as if nothing happened, as if the world wasn't practically collapsing before your eyes. You tried to think positively and looked forward to Logan waiting for you again in one of the booths and escorting you to the apartment and making dinner together while talking.
When you finally finished your shift and said goodbye to the others, you walked out of the kitchen looking for Logan with hope in your eyes. Unfortunately, you couldn't find him anywhere. There was no one in the restaurant anymore and your positive thinking was gone. You went alone with gloomy face. This is last night and he just ignore you like that?
When you arrived at the apartment, upset, you were a little surprised to see Logan in the kitchen making dinner. He looked behind his shoulder and his corners lifted up a bit when he saw you. "Hey...sorry I didn't pick you up today, I was preparing dinner" he excused himself and your anger towards him was gone immediately.
Your face softened and your heart melted. He's also sad that it's the last night and he wanted to make it up to you somehow. He doesn't even have to say it with words.
"It's f-fine..." you said, still a bit shocked but more flattered. You walked up next to him, curious about what he is preparing. "Spaghetti?" you asked, even though you saw exactly what he was doing.
"Yeah, we had them on a first night, remember?" he looks at you and you chuckle at the memory. "Oh yeah, you were all grumpy and just took it" Logan scoffed and nodded. "Yeah..."
"Well, it'll be done in a bit, so do your stuff and then we'll go eat, hm?" you just nodded excitedly and fought the urge to kiss him on his cheek as a grateful gesture. You literally ran to your room, closed it and wanted to change into some comfortable clothes. The thing was that all your clothes were dirty and even when you tried really hard to find at least a one clean shirt, it was pointless.
You sat on the bed with a sigh and wondered what you were going to do. "Hey um I just go take a quick shower okay?" Logan burst into your room without knocking and you jumped a bit. He was gone before you could even answer him.
"Okay...." you whispered under your breath and immediately got an idea. You sneaked into Logan's room looking for his shirt. After all, he won't notice that you're wearing it, and if he does, you can explain it to him.
You didn't look long and saw a gray shirt thrown on the bed. You shrugged, grabbed it and walked out of his room into yours. You instantly stuck it to your nose and inhaled its scent. Cigarettes and scotch, oh the combination was sending waves of pleasure between your legs and you couldn't take it anymore. You quickly removed all your clothes and put on his shirt. It was huge on you, it touched your knees and you laugh.
You could still feel him as if he was with you, on top of you and that was exactly what you wanted. You laid down on the bed and closed your eyes, your brain immediately cooperating and starting to create million scenarios while you were still smelling him. The vibrating between your legs started being unbearable and you had to stop it somehow.
I slowly moved my hand to the fabric of Logan's shirt. I stopped between my legs and lifted the shirt up, a sigh left your lips as you felt the cold air touching your folds. Your hand moved down, your fingers slightly touching your folds, making gentle friction. Your moves were slow and sweet, just heating up before you started putting more pressure.
Your jaw fall open as you inserted one finger in, twirling inside and stretching your walls. You imagined that it was Logan's finger that worked a miracle, that filled you with emotions and the need to feel something inside you, to feel him inside you. You desperately tried to reach the sponge spot, that whenever you touch your head you go dizzy in a second.
You needed more, that's why you insert another finger inside you, moving in unison with your hips. You tried to catch up with your orgasm with gentle but eager sensations, Logan's images replayed in your head over and over and your sighs got louder and louder.
“Hey have you seen my gray T-shirt anywhere-“ Logan walked in, not bothering to knock. You gasped at the surprise and immediately covered yourself with a blanket. Logan weist was wrapped by a towel, making you even more wet at the sigh.
"Oh shit" he looked away embarrassed, but you were the one who should be. "What the hell is wrong with you? Why didn't you knock?" you asked, trying to wash off the embarrassment and replace it with anger.
Logan shook his head, still looking away from you. "Look I'm so sorry I was just looking for my T-shirt" "Well I don't have it so go check somewhere else" you said, your voice calm but your heart beat fast. Logan finally gains the confidence to look back at you, furrowing his eyebrows. "Wait, is that my T-shirt you're wearing?"
You tried to be as calm as possible. “What? No, why would I be wearing your shirt?” All your muscles were tense and you prayed that Logan wouldn't notice. “No that's definitely my shirt” he look at the piece that protruded from the blanket as his corner of his mouth lifted up a bit.
You quickly tried to hide more even tho you knew you were fucked. "No...it's not" Logan came closer to you. "Hey, stop tryna hide under the covers..." he grabbed the blanket and tried to pull it off of you, but as hard as you could try, he was much stronger than you.
"Let me just see it" after an unfair fight, Logan won and tore the blanket off you, revealing his shirt on your body. A devilish smile appeared on his face as he saw you. “So you are wearing my shirt” he narrowed his eyes and you started to panic.
“Yeah and what about it? It's the only clean thing I could find and it's comfortable” although you were telling the truth, it wasn't completely true, because deep down you know very well why you took his shirt. Logan chuckled at your answer and came even closer to you, standing right above you.
"So you're telling me it's just a coincidence that your hands are between your thighs wearing the same T-shirt I was just wearing?" oh you were so cooked. "It's not even like that..." you still tried to save it, but it was already too late. Logan giggled again, grabbing your chin, making you look up at him. "I'm not dumb, I know what you're doing"
Oh he was so freaking hot right now, and he knew it. "You're so fucking desperate" now there was nothing and no one to stop Logan in his way. He completely ripped the blanket off of you and got on the bed above you. In this moment you realize, all your desires are finally coming true.
He didn't hesitate for a second before pressing his lips to yours, aggressively and roughly. You immediately cooperated, your arms wrapping around his neck and your legs unintentionally removing Logan's towel as you wrapped your legs around his weist. You could immediately feel his length, making you whine a bit in the kisses.
Logan's hands were not docile and explored your body. He started from your thighs, continued under your t-shirt to your stomach and finally ended on your breasts, which he squeezed and massaged. You pulled out of the kiss, your eyes shut tightly as you sighed his name. Oh he loved the view he had right now. But he still needed more.
He attacked your neck with aggressive bites, leaving marks that will heal for a long time. "~Logan~" you moaned his name as you grabbed his fluffy hair and tugged them whenever he found that sensitive spot. You could feel his smile forming on his face, while sucking and licking your, now red neck.
Logan felt your wetness, your arousal. How he was grateful for those urgent instincts right now. He finally removed his teeth from your neck, but he definitely wasn't done with you. You opened your eyes as you watched him creeping down. His devilish smile not leaving his face for a second. The image of Logan's face between your legs drives you crazy and you couldn't wait to finally feel him. "You smell so fucking good kitty" he said before his lips leaned against your folds.
His hot breath on your bare core was sending shivers down your spine and you fight against every nerve in your body not to burst your hips into his face. He notices your desperate face and your shaking body, so he decides not to torture you anymore. He licked your fold, incredibly slowly but intensively, that you had to arch your back.
He repeated this move a few times, sucking all the wetness you could give him from the outside, before he burst his tongue inside you without any warning. You scream his name and pull his hair as his sudden move catches you off guard, making him chuckle.
His tongue was swirling inside you licking up all your juice, you were delicious. His nose was poking your sensitive clitoris, sending you even faster to your edge. Your hips were moving along his tongue, desperate for more friction and tried to reach your orgasm.
Logan stretched your walls even more, eating you like you were the best meat he had in years, his speed was unbelievable and the pleasure in you indescribable. You feel the tightening sensation in your lower abdomen and you knew you couldn't hold it in for long. You clenched around Logan's tongue, making it harder for him to continue, but he didn't stop. You tightly shut your eyes and throw your head back, as you almost pulled out some of Logan's hair.
He holds you firmly by your thighs, as your hips lose control and after few more twirl moves of his tongue inside you, the feeling of relief wash over your whole body, goosebombs appeared on your skin and your chest was rapidly rising and falling.
You smile, trying to catch your breath but your eyes were still shut. Logan climbed higher, he was now face to face. You felt his heavy breath against your cold nose, so you opened your eyes and smiled even more. Your juice glistened on Logan's beard and his hair messy, proof of your work.
He giggled as he saw your cheeks all red, your forehead sweaty and your hair destroyed, he loved what he was doing to you. "You're fucking beautiful princess" he said before he kissed you, giving you a taste of yourself. You loved the way he kissed. Hungry and furious kisses, but also sweet and gentle and si was his touch.
He explored you with his massive hands, his fingerprints all over your body. You looked really small in his hands, the sigh makes him even harder.
He couldn't get enough of you, he longed to hear you scream his name.
He quickly adjusted his hips and checked down, before he rammed into you, without any warning. Your eyes widened and your jaw dropped, as you felt his massive length inside you. The joke was, he wasn't even fully in yet.
You bite your lips, trying to be as quiet as you could but Logan didn't make it easier for you. He was inserting himself deeper, stretching your walls as far as they could go and he finally let out a big sigh, when he was balls deep in.
You felt so full, that every place inside you was now completely filled and there wasn't even room for air. You hold tightly Logan's neck and started making a blood mess on your lips as you dug into them with your teeth.
He chuckled and gave you a few hungry kisses, before backing up to get a good look at you. "Don't hold it in princess, let me hear you" his grainy voice tickles your eardrums and right before he finished this sentence, he started moving his hips. Just small smooth movements at first, he barely got out of you. Even though they were peaceful movements, it sent you sky high.
Your lips parted as you started leaving a quiet whispers and whimpers, barely heard but Logan heard them very well. Those pretty sounds of yours makes his mind go wild and he started gaining speed and strength in his hips.
Those smooth sweet movements? All gone in a second. They were fading into lustful, rough and uncontrollable thrusting, that makes those regular clapping sounds.
You rolled your eyes as he was hitting just the sponge wet spot inside you, you tried to desperately reach yourself before. "Hey, look at me" Logan growled through clenched teeth, and you with a bit of struggle manage to look at his focused face.
His hands find their way to your hips, keeping you in a place while he was pushing into you, desperately trying to catch up with his orgasm. He sat on his knees, looking at you from above, clearly showing who is dominant here.
You just seductively let him do anything with you he just wanted. You loved it, the feeling, the situation, the atmosphere, Logan. Everything together was sending you closer and closer to your edge. Sice you lost your hold spot when Logan sat down, your hands found the sheet around you and held them tight.
The wet sound started to permeate the whole room, after a while even the entire apartment. Your brain stopped controlling your body, which is why you started letting out loud moans and whimpers of Logan's name. It was pleassure to his ears.
He stopped counting how many times he imagined you like this, beneath him, fucking your soul out of you. How tears stream down your face and you beg for more as you scream his name. These thoughts and these dreams kept him awake and he himself is surprised that it took him so long to do this, to fuck you properly.
He feels that he is close and so were you. Another orgasm of the day was approaching very quickly, making your legs started vibrating. Logan growled, sigh softly, keeping his eyes on your face the entire time. Well, not the entire time, just a few times he checkedthe part where you were connected.
You started feeling that familiar urge to pee, while Logan's dick was twitching inside you, but not stopping hitting that juicy spot. You were over the edge now. You tried your best not to close your eyes and not release already, even though you knew it would come in any second. Logan also fought all the demons so he wouldn't cum into you and empty his balls, but he wouldn't last long either.
“Fuck” he huffed, dropping his head down while his hips lost control. His movements defied all laws of physics, the entire bed creaked with you and your entire body tensed.
"Logan I-" you couldn't even finish your though before you tightened around Logan, arch your back and close your eyes, finally letting the climax get you. Logan didn't stop, he couldn't, when he was so close to his orgasm too, his precum already mixing with your juice.
Logan felt it, he quickly leaned forward so his stomach was touching yours and he pressed his face into the pillow right next to your head as he thrust into you one last time with the most force. You moaned by his hit, still feeling dizzy from the recent orgasm. He growls like a wild animal as he cums into you, his fingers digging into your skin, definitely leaving bruises there.
You both breathe heavily, staying in this position for a bit. Your bodies were hot with sweat as you still processed the moment.
When your breathing finally calmed, Logan unhooked his face from the pillow and looked at you with a smile. "Don't look at me like that I look like a total mess..." you chuckle from embarrassment and close your eyes. "Said something bad about yourself again and you won't be able to walk for a month" your breath got caught up in your throat as you heard those words. He said that so casually.
"You're gorgeous" he added at the end and kissed you softly, calming your pulse and heartbeat down. After that he slowly pulled out of you, both groaning from the friction again and Logan collapsed next to you. You didn't wait and scooched yourself on Logans body, your leg laying on his while your head listening to those cute regular beats of his heart.
Logan immediately pulled you closer to his body and caressed your shoulder, making gentle circles on it. Your eyes were closed, trying to rest while being still full of the hormone of happiness. Your smile couldn't leave your face and neither could Logan's.
"What about the spaghetti?" you whisper softly, making Logan giggle. "They're probably cold now" he sigh, keep caressing your shoulder. You just grunted, too tired to answer that or even think of an answer. "Are you hungry?" Logan asked immediately with concern and you shook your head with a bit of burden. He relaxed after that and closed his eyes too. Both of you were tired and too lazy to get dressed.
"Would you look at that!" Suddenly you heard another male voice, this one was annoying and quite provocative. You both knew who it was right away. You quickly jerked away from each other when you looked at the door. Wade was leaning against the doorframe, his hands crossed on his chest and his smile was so fucking annoying.
You and Logan were frozen in shock, not knowing what to say or how to even react. "You take the 'take care of him' a bit seriously, don't you think?" you tried to defend yourself, explain it somehow, but you can't get out of this situation.
"Get out" Logan growled sternly but it didn't scare Wade at all. "Wow I mean damn I...I don't really know what to say-" "GET THE FUCK OUT!" Logan screamed this time, even you got goosebumps when you heard him. That already took its toll on Wade. "Okay okay chill...I'm just happy for you guys" he slowly closed the door but right before the end, he quickly opened them again.
"How many rounds did you have?" "GET OUT!" you both scream in union and Wade finally closes the door fully, leaving you two in a very uncomfortable situation.
You slowly looked at Logan and he did the same, but your staring contest broke as you both burst out laughing. You didn't know if it was the adrenaline you still had in your blood, or just a copy mechanism when something really embarrassing happened, either that you were crying from laughing, still laying next to each other, still naked and still in love with each other.
No one warned you that these five days would be the best of your life.
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4K notes · View notes
always-just-red · 24 days ago
Note
A multi-headcanon request please. How the boys react when they discover their s/o has been hiding a wound from them because she had it under control and didn't want to give them something else to worry about
Hi! Thanks so much for the request and all the support! Have written a little fic for each of the guys, starring... - Xavier, Deepspace Hunter extraordinaire ✨ - Linkon's worst best baking partner, Zayne 🍪 - Drama queen Rafayel 👑 - King of self-care, Sylus 💅
Putting On A Brave Face
L&DS Boys x Reader
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Summary: Sometimes, a certain hunter likes to say things are fine when they definitely aren't...
Genre: A lil bit of angst, mostly fluff + comfort!
Warnings/Additional tags: female reader, established relationship, swearing, canon pet names, some injury details/blood mentioned, teeeeency bit of suggestion (I'm looking at YOU, Sylus...)
| Word count: 4k (1k each!) | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!
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Xavier ⭐
This is bad. Not ‘end of everything as we know it’ bad, but definitely ‘an obscene amount of paperwork’ bad.
You clutch one of your pistols to your chest— deep breath— and you listen carefully, your head leant back against the rock you’re using as cover. Your mind latches on to every sound: each growl, each rumble of earth that marks the movements of the Wanderers that have trapped you here.
You’ve fought worse odds, but then again, you don’t usually have to do it with a broken leg.
Or maybe just sprained? You shift a little, trying to move, and the pain that sears through you settles the debate in an instant. Your teeth sink into the back of your hand to keep you from crying out.
You hope Xavier’s ok. You sent him your co-ordinates minutes ago, and the lack of response has worry gnawing away at the deepest parts of you. You check your hunter’s watch.
Still nothing.
Another deep breath, and you readjust your position as much as you can. Balancing on your good leg, you manage to peer over the top of the rock to get a visual of your surroundings.
There’s four, no— five Wanderers. Stupid no-hunt zone; you’re never not outnumbered.
You can see your second pistol, abandoned in the middle of the clearing where you’d dropped it. There’s flickers of movement, too: further in the woods. More Wanderers. Shit.
You duck behind the rock you’re starting to think might be your new home. Then your watch flickers, broadcasting a map of the area, and there’s the co-ordinates of another hunter, closing in fast.
Something flashes in the clearing, lighting the dark of the forest like a stutter of lightning. Then again. Then again. There’s a blood-curdling roar, and it ends— abrupt— with another flash.
Everything goes silent, save for a familiar voice calling your name.
“Xavier!” you call back.
You peek over the rock to see your partner jogging towards you, dead Wanderers littered behind him. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice soft as always, but his sword is still dripping blood.
“I’m ok.” You clamber up, using the rock as a seat when the small effort almost breaks you. “You?”
Xavier draws close— his gloved hands on your face, cupping your cheeks. His thumb grazes over a shallow scrape on your brow. “Yeah,” he answers.
“Did you find that weird Wanderer?”
He shakes his head: no. Steps back to check his watch. “It’s probably moved on to a different zone by now.”
“Then we should look for it,” you say, standing up. All of your weight is on one leg.
“Ah,” Xavier ponders, rubbing his neck, “really? I thought we should maybe head back.”
“No need.” And what’s the plan here, exactly? You can’t walk. You definitely can’t fight. Maybe you can wait here while he— no. He’s never going to leave you. “I told you I’m ok.”
“But you’re not.”
“I am,” you assert. You’re determined to convince him and your own, useless body. It’s just a sprain. It is just a sprain. You take a step forwards and stumble, your bad leg crumpling beneath you.
Xavier catches you, strong and solid, and he's holding you like you’re something delicate. He sets you down on the rock again. The pain is making your vision swim.
“You’re hurt,” he reasons gently, even though the truth of it is a knife that’s twisting in your heart. He seems to sense your reluctance: “There’s no shame in admitting that. It happens. Let’s go back.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m slowing you down, Xavier!” you gush. Your heart is split open and it has to bleed somewhere. “You have no idea what it’s like… being your partner.”
He’s looking at you with so much guilt and gods, you wish that somewhere was anywhere but his hands. “What do you mean?” he asks on a shaky breath.  
“I love working with you.” Soften the blow. “I love being with you, but you don’t need me. You’re this incredible hunter. This figure of legend, of everyone’s stories. You can do so much on your own and I just don’t know how to keep up. I mean, look at me— I can’t.”
You feel sick. Empty. “You shouldn’t have to hang back for me,” you finish limply. “You’re you, Xavier. You can fight like a hundred Wanderers and still come out unscathed.”
The blue of Xavier’s eyes has grown understandably more turbulent, though it settles a little. He seems to relax. “Yeah… about that,” he mumbles hesitantly.
He turns around and your mouth drops. A savage cut drapes like a crimson sash down his back, splitting the white of his uniform. It’s not deep enough to be fatal, but it’s not good, either.
“Wha— Xavier!” you exclaim, trying to surge forwards, but your pain keeps you rooted. “You said you were ok!”
“So did you,” he frowns, bewildered. “Can we get out of—”
“Yeah, yeah.” You let him take your arm and help you to your feet.
He leads you through the clearing and into the forest, supporting your weight as you hop along beside him. There’s a murmur about how he should carry you, but you’re quick to reassure him he’s doing enough. You’re both hurting; you both just need to survive the short walk out of the no-hunt zone, where a med team can take over.
“You don’t slow me down, you know,” Xavier says quietly, after a minute of silence. “You’re the reason I can keep going.”
You squeeze his arm affectionately, mustering a smile even though you’re nauseous with pain and the idea that he’s been dwelling on your speech this whole time. “Well,” you chuckle through gritted teeth, “you’re gonna have to learn how to get by without me.”
“Huh?” He gives you a curious look.
You glance down at your leg. “Zayne’s gonna kill me...”
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Zayne ❄
“I’m a doctor.”
You stop what you’re doing to fix Zayne with a questioning stare. “Ok…?”
“I’ve published dozens of research papers. Pioneered new surgical techniques. My work on Evol-based regenerative properties still has lasting implications for my field, and I’ve the accolades to show for it. The Starcatcher Award. The Linde Award, too— I was the youngest ever recipient.”
None of this is news to you, and you can’t help chuckling at this change in your usually-humble physician. You humour him: “The youngest ever recipient, huh?” There’s a crack as you split an egg on the side of the bowl in front of you. “That’s very impressive.”
“Is it?”
Zayne stands from his seat at your kitchen table: you hear the chair draw back. You feel his presence arrive behind you as you continue to stir your soon-to-be cookie dough. “Yeah,” you lilt with a smile.
“Really?” he pushes again, and his arms wrap around you as he bends to speak into your ear. “Because someone seems to think I can’t even recognise a—” he nips at it— “sprained ankle.”
His breath is warm on your neck and you let out a giggle. “Keep speaking to me like that and these cookies are never making it into the oven. Or your stomach.”
The man relents. He releases you, not returning to his seat but opting to lean against the kitchen counter instead. You glance up at him; he stares back, waiting for an actual answer.
“My ankle is fine, Zayne.”
There’s a sigh as he crosses his arms.
“It is,” you insist, even though you did sprain your ankle at work today, it does hurt like hell, and you do just want to sit down. You reach for the flour you’d measured out previously, tipping it into the larger bowl. “If it wasn’t, would I really be here— making you cookies?”
“Yes,” he says plainly.
“You’re delusional.”
“Ok.”  
Well, that was a little too easy. Don’t overthink it, and definitely don’t read into the fact that he’s standing there oh-so-smugly, like he knows something you don’t. You finish stirring the flour into the mixture, then add the last of the ingredients. Just a pinch of salt, and then…
Where did you put the chocolate chips? You glance about yourself but they’re nowhere in sight. “Hey, Zayne? Have you seen the—”
“This cupboard,” he indicates with an upwards nod of his head. His eyes are relentless. “Top shelf.”
Ah. That’s ok. You’ve totally got this. You move beneath the cupboard, opening it and gazing up into the contents. You can see the pack of chocolate chips. You can get up there somehow, right?
“Would you like me to—” Zayne starts, but you cut him off:
“Nope.” You put your hands on your hips. “Please— if I can climb the back of an alive, awake, and very angry deluge wyrmlord to put a sword through its skull, I think I can make it onto the kitchen counter in one piece. Lemme just…”
Your knee lifts. You make it about a centimetre from the floor before Zayne’s hands are on your waist, grounding you. “Stop,” he instructs, and it's not a tone that allows for any rebuttal. Satisfied by your silence, he brings the chocolate chips down to you.
“Thanks,” you say quietly as they’re placed on the counter.
“You’re welcome."
Sheepishly, you spill a generous amount of chocolate chips into the cookie mixture. Your throat hurts in the way that keeps you from saying anything more. You already feel like an idiot, and your eyes are watering, threatening to make you look like even more of one.
Zayne’s hand appears in front of you, hovering over the bowl. You laugh in understanding: giving the half-empty bag another shake so chocolate chips fall into his palm.
“You… don’t have to explain yourself,” he says as he lifts them to his mouth. His next words are muffled: “But you can tell me anything, my love. I never want you to feel as though you can’t.”
You chuckle again; you can’t help yourself. Look at him: your oh-so-serious doctor shovelling chocolate into his mouth. He raises an eyebrow at you, his lips still on his palm.
“I know I can tell you anything,” you smile, the ache in your throat receding, however much the rest of you hurts. “I did sprain my ankle. It’s not that I wanted to hide it from you, it’s just—” you stop stirring the mixture— “it’s just that your whole life is taking care of people at the hospital. You should get a break from it. You should get to be Zayne, here… at home. Just Zayne, not Doctor Zayne.”
Zayne’s hazel eyes have taken on a hue of regret. He pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, buying himself a few seconds as he contemplates. “Are you a doctor?” he asks after a moment.
“No?”
“And yet, here you are, taking care of me.” He reaches for the abandoned packet of chocolate chips. “Tell me, does it feel like work to you?”
“Yeah,” you tease, drawing the packet away from his stretching fingers in explanation; you’re both grinning.
“Well, it never feels like work to me. Just Zayne likes taking care of you. And right now? He wants to bundle you up on the sofa and finish these cookies for you.”
You purse your lips: that’s some dubious wording. “Zayne, hell will freeze over before I leave you and this cookie dough unsupervised.”
He shushes you, pulling on the cord of your apron until the bow at your back comes loose. Before you can protest, he’s wearing the apron himself.
“Zayne, I’m not kidding. I know what you’re gonna do. You’re gonna get rid of me, and then you’ll—”
“Shh,” he coos again, whisking you carefully off your feet, because it’s time for a taste of your own medicine. “You’re delusional.”
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Rafayel 🔥
“Mmhmm. Mmhmm.”
“Raf, who are you—”
He holds out a finger to shush you. “Mmhmm.”
You cross your arms impatiently. Who is he even talking to, anyway? His lilac eyes are locked on you as he continues humming away, apparently very invested in whatever the person on the phone is saying; you’ve never seen him go this long without talking.
He narrows his eyes at you. You narrow your eyes right back.
All around you, guests of the exhibition are milling about, all dressed to the nines and minding their business, however much they want the attention of the man in front of you. A few of them linger as they pass him, like they want to say something, like they’re going to say something…
But they don’t.
It’s a wonder that Rafayel stands out in the crowd as much as he does. You’d seamlessly located him, back from your third trip to the bathroom to check on the bandages you’ve managed to conceal beneath this dress. He’s still holding your purse for you, his phone in his other hand, except—
That’s your phone. That’s your phone! “Rafayel!”
He shushes you again. “I understand,” he says solemnly, notably not to you, “thanks for letting me know.” The call is ended. He takes a deep, collected breath, then looks at you. “I knew it!”
“Knew what? Who was that?”
“Zayne.”
“You called Zayne?”
“Like I had a choice!” Rafayel retaliates. It is true; he’s spent the entire evening trying to get you to admit something was wrong, and you had no intention of giving him that pleasure. “You’re supposed to be in the hospital! What kind of idiot breaks out of the hospital?”
The lack of irony in the question almost breaks you. “Umm… you?! Like every other week?!”
He shrugs. “That’s different.”
“Rafayel, I swear, I’m gonna— ah!” you gasp in pain. You’d stepped forwards too quickly— maybe to strangle him, but that’s neither here nor there— and the wound on your side is clearly on his side. It stings like hell: punishing you, and you know the pain is self-inflicted.
Rafayel frowns in concern, maybe even guilt, and that’s why you didn’t tell him. “C’mon, we should go,” he insists gravely.
“It’s fine, Raf. It doesn’t even—”
“Stop lying! You said you wouldn’t hide stuff like this from me. You promised, remember?”
You’re losing track of all the promises you’ve made to the Lemurian, but you do remember that one. Guilt has its teeth in you, too. “I know,” you grumble, “I’m sorry, ok? I just knew—”
“What?”
“That you’d act like this! You’ve been working on this exhibition for months, Raf. Tonight is supposed to be about you. Not me— you. And I want it to stay that way. Everyone’s here to celebrate you and your work, and that’s how it should be. That’s what I want. To support you. To be here for you.”
Your voice has gone timid. You finish meekly: “Can’t you let me do this for you? Please?”
Rafayel’s eyes are wide and still the prettiest things you’ve ever seen, even in a room full of masterpieces and jewels you could never afford. They shine with uncertainty, but soften as he smiles, full of fondness and affection. “That’s sweet. But also? Really dumb.”
“Raf—”
“The only— and I mean only— reason I’m here tonight is because you are. I don’t care about what anyone thinks about me or my paintings. Just you. And you can see this?” He gestures around the gallery. “Anytime. My life’s your private exhibition, cutie. Exclusive access, 24/7, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
He steps closer to you: close enough that he can see the tear that’s made it halfway down your cheek. He wipes it away with a chuckle. “Plus,” he adds, “I know you know I’m amazing. You don’t need these old sourpusses to tell you that, do you?”
You laugh tentatively. “No, I don’t.”
Your injury protests as you use the lapels on Rafayel’s blazer to pull him closer; you have to stand on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. He’s still grinning as he draws away, a light blush on his cheeks, but the sweetness of the moment vanishes as his gaze drifts lower.
“My eyes are up here, Rafayel.”
“Yeah…” he concedes mindlessly, but then he points: “you know you’re like, bleeding, right?”
You glance downwards to where the red of your dress is turning darker. There’s just a small splotch, but it’s growing. Shit. You must have reopened the wound.
“Thomas?” you hear Rafayel call, and then he’s stuffing a silk handkerchief into your hands— helping you apply pressure. “We have to get out of here,” he explains as a figure joins you.
His agent folds his arms; this is not dissimilar to stunts you and Rafayel have pulled before. “Fake blood, guys? Really?” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You can’t leave, Rafayel. I can just see the headlines tomorrow…”
“Dashing artist selflessly flees exhibition to save devoted bodyguard,” Rafayel concurs with a nod.
Thomas groans. “That’s not what they’re going to—”
“Help me out with this, cutie?”
“Yes, sir,” you mock salute.
A moment later, Rafayel has scooped you up into his arms. Your hero; he gives you a conspiratorial wink before glancing about frantically. “Quickly!” he cries out. “Everyone out of the way, please!”
“For the love of—” Thomas starts.
“Oh, gods!” you shout in agony. “It hurts. It hurts!”
Heads turn. Cameras flash.
Tomorrow morning, half of Linkon will be talking about one of their favourite celebrities and his long-envied bodyguard. A news article will pop-up on her doctor’s phone, and he’ll see the pictures and sigh.
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Sylus 🩸
“It’s not too late to back down, sweetie,” Sylus sneers.
“Aw, but you got all dressed up for the occasion.”
Your eyes rake over the outline of the man’s abs, courtesy of the tank top he’s wearing, and it does take the sting out of the fact that he’ll be trying to hit you. He holds his wrapped hands before him, ready to defend, ready to attack. He’ll probably attack, right?
“Last chance,” he growls.
“Is it, though?” This is the third ‘last chance’ you’ve been given in the five minutes you’ve been teetering on combat. You beckon him with a curl of your fingers. “Come on, Sylus. This is getting old.”
He scoffs: “How do you think I feel?”
“Like you’re about to get your ass kicked?”
“Alright, enough.” His hands drop and it feels like you’re back at the academy, about to be scolded for not taking something seriously. Sylus turns his back on you. Moves to the edge of the boxing ring so he can retrieve a stool from outside of it and sit down in a huff. He starts peeling the wraps from his knuckles, and— wait, is he mad? Like, actually mad?
“What’s wrong, Sy?”
He laughs as though you’re missing something dreadfully obvious. Maybe irony.
“Sylus?”
“You really are heartless, sweetie. You know that?”
The words steal your breath away, if only for a moment. Yours is a relationship of pulled punches, but he won’t meet your gaze and that one was real, wasn’t it? He wanted it to sting. “Why—”
“I could have hurt you,” he snaps, his dishevelled, snowy hair falling to cover his eyes. His discarded wraps slide from his hands, pooling by his feet like blood. “You were going to let me hurt you.”
He looks at you, finally, but it’s not in the way you want. His gaze is cast low, trailing over your body and making you feel every bruise, every closed cut that wants to reopen and every ache, rooted almost to bone. You’d done your best to hide it, even going so far as to press make-up hastily over your purpled skin.
That Wanderer really did a number on you yesterday.  
“You should have told me,” Sylus says, since you’ve made it onto the same page. “Honestly, kitten. Why would you—”
“Because Luke and Kieran told me, ok?”
Oh, they’re going to kill you. It was supposed to be a secret, and here you are, spilling like a fresh wound because you can’t stand the thought of Sylus being upset with you. You step closer, scrambling to dissect what you’ve done right in front of his eyes— holding it out to him: this is why. This is why. “They said you had a rough week. Some deals of yours had fallen through or something. And I’ve been too busy. I haven’t called, I haven’t even texted, and…”
You need him to understand, but the truth is a mess in your hands and how do you even start to explain it to him?
“You wanted to do something for me,” he finishes for you, and you don’t have to explain a thing.
“Yeah…” you confirm, bittersweet and still sad. “You do so much for me, Sylus. I just wanted to do what you wanted, for a change.”
Maybe it’s a round of boxing. Maybe it’s a dozen illicit dealings where he needs you to play enforcer— it doesn’t matter. As long as he’s happy.
“Come here,” he orders gently.
You close the rest of the rift between you, letting him reach for you and pull you closer. His knees have spread so you can slot against him, and his arms circle around you— trapping you— as he nuzzles into the warmth of your stomach.
“I’m sorry I called you heartless,” he speaks into you, his voice muffled as he gives you a chaste kiss. He then cranes his head upwards, resting his chin against you so he can profess more clearly: “I do worry about you, kitten.”
“I know—” your hands move to his head— “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”
“Mmm,” he hums in accordance, maybe even forgiveness, and his eyes close as your fingers card through the soft of his hair. “I lied too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he confesses on a contented sigh. “I didn’t want to spend today… boxing.”
“What do you want to do today, Sy?”
His eyes flicker open and his hands find your hips. “What I really want…” he contemplates, as his thumbs slip under the hem of your shirt to rub circles on your skin, “is to take care of you.”
There are lifetimes of need in his gaze.
“Won’t you let me take care of you, sweetie?”
“If he finds the terms so disagreeable, then he’s more than welcome to take his business elsewhere. Although—” Sylus’s voice is cold— “he might find his other options less… amenable than when he saw them last. Less communicative, too. You can tell him I said so.”
He ends the phone call. Smiles. “Sorry about that, sweetie.”
“Are the boys ok?”
The smile widens, even though you can’t see it. “They’re fine.”
Phone set aside, Sylus carries on with the important business Kieran’s call had distracted him from. You’re half asleep, your head in his lap as he brushes your hair: rose-scented and soft from the bath he’d drawn for you, hours ago. Every bandage is fresh and clean. Every ache has been dulled with a lazy massage and more chaste kisses, for good measure.
“Perfect day,” you mumble blissfully.
“Perfect day,” Sylus agrees.
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nativegirltapes · 3 months ago
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pairing: toxic!rafe x sweetheart!reader
you and rafe always took 'breaks', but they never lasted. when he asked you to meet him in the middle of the night you could never say no.
you and rafe had been on your longest break yet, going on 3 weeks. and you couldn't lie, you'd been doing really good without him. but you missed him, a lot.
you didn't know why you missed him so much, it was almost like a drug you just couldn't live without despite knowing you're better off without it.
2AM, sitting in your room, music blasting through your earbuds, paging through your favorite clothing catalog; you felt your phone vibrate right next to you. thinking it was pope; the cute pogue you had recently befriended and been texting, you had a slight smile on your face.
that smile faded when you realized it was indeed not pope, but rafe. of course from some random number because you blocked him on his own.
252-###-### - It's me. Can we talk? Meet at tanneyhill in 15? PLS. I love you.
you sighed, partly of self disappointment because you knew you were going to do exactly what he wanted. but also partly from relief, this being you and rafe's longest break, you wondered what had been keeping him so busy from trying to reach out to you. on previous breaks he'd be begging to see you a few days in.
⊹ ۪ ࣪ ꒰ 🍰 . .
rafe was sat on the front steps of tanneyhill, he looked stressed and upset, but really when wasn't he?
"hey," you said softly, standing in front of him, not wanting to get too close.
"hey." he looked up at you. "thanks for coming."
"yeah." your voice was full of shame. it was embarrassing how you couldn't say no to rafe. you liked to rationalize your embarrassment by convincing yourself that you were doing this for him, that he needed you and how could you say no to someone who needed you? but no, you knew deep down your relationship with rafe was self-inflicted and self indulgent. if you tried hard enough you could say no, but the thing was that you just really didn't want to. and that was the most embarrassing part.
you liked getting treated like you were everything one day, and nothing the next. the feelings rafe made you feel were ones close enough to addiction. the highs were so high, but the lows were low.
rafe patted his lap, signaling for you to come take a seat on his lap. of course you did. "i missed you," rafe placed his hand on your inner thigh.
"missed you too rafe." you were basically now bridal style in his lap, ass on one of his thighs, your legs propped up on the other, and your ams wrapped around his neck. you missed being held like this.
"yeah? how much you miss me?" he had a smirk on his face while looking at you. god he looked so good. you hated how good he always looked.
"i dont know," you giggled softly, "a lot."
"heard you been talking to that pogue," rafe looked into the distance, you could tell he was trying his best to remain calm. "what's his name? pope."
you were confused as to how he would even know that, but to be honest it was probably best you didn't know. "just texting." you immediately defend yourself. "just friendly."
"friendly huh?" rafe scoffs. "do y'know how many guys would love to be 'just friendly' with you?"
"really rafe?" you dropped your legs from his lap. only rafe would invite you over to resolve things just to start another argument.
just as you were about to get up from his lap, he pulled you back down onto it. "cmon don't leave now," rafe moved your hair to the side, leaving the side of your neck that was closest to him on full display. "was just teasin'." his hot breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine.
“i don’t want to be teased.” you sighed under your breath.
“what do you want?”
“i want you to love me.” a singular tear fell down your face, rafe immediately wiping it.
“i do love you,” rafe’s voice was soft in a way you’d never heard before. “i love you more than,” you could tell he was really trying to pick his next words wisely. “i love you more than everything.” rafe kissed you on the cheek, his wet lips colliding with your wet tears.
and maybe that was also half the reason you couldn’t leave rafe. you knew that deep down aside from all the bad things he’s done to you; he has real love in his heart, he just doesn’t know how to show it.
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firewasabeast · 1 month ago
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“Tommy!” Eddie cheered, lifting his drink toward the sky as he spotted his friend walking toward him. “Whatcha doin' here, Man?”
“Figured I'd stop by and see how you were doing, Bud,” Tommy replied. He gave Eddie a pat on the back as he sat down in the empty seat next to him. “You come here alone?”
“Mhm. Needed ta get out. House's too quiet.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Too long,” the bartender interrupted as he walked by. “Was about to cut him off. I already took his keys.”
Eddie's eyebrows furrowed, looking around the bar counter. “Hey! You took my keys.”
“I got him,” Tommy said, giving the bartender a nod. “I gotta say, at least you're talking better than you're texting. I was worried.”
Eddie's face scrunched up in confusion. “Huh? I never did texted you.”
“Oh, I beg to differ.” Tommy fished his phone out of his jacket pocket and went to his messages. “'Buuuuuuuck, lezz drink, Buddy.' Then five minutes later, 'Bruck, why rn't you at bar? I waiting.' A good two minutes after that you sent me your location with an angry emoji. Then, and this is my personal favorite, 'Loser too busy kissy kissy with Tummy to be a friendship.'”
"Huh. Thought I was textin' Buck.”
“Yeah, I pieced that together.”
“So where's Buck if you're not kissy kissy?” Eddie asked, his final drink sloshing over his fingers as he attempted to bring it to his lips.
Tommy took the drink from Eddie and set it back on the counter. “Evan is watching Jee overnight so Howie and Maddie can have a night away. So, you wanna talk about whatever's bothering you? I mean, I could take a guess, but...”
“Nah. No, no, nope. I wanna,” Eddie pulled at the collar of his shirt. “Lessgo karaoke, Tomboy-”
“We're not calling me that.”
“I wanna sing to the rooftops,” Eddie continued, his words slurring more and more with each sentence. “I wanna. I wanna be, you know, be free, Tommy. I don't have a rea-,” he hiccuped, “reason to get back home.”
“Really? Seems like that's exactly where you need to be right now.”
Eddie's eyes widened, like he'd thought of the best idea in the entire world. “Let's go to Peeping Tom! That's your name!”
“Peeping Tom is a gay bar, Eddie.”
“I don judge.”
“A very kinky, fully nude gay bar,” Tommy clarified.
Eddie squinted, deep in thought. “No karaoke?”
“No karaoke.”
“Well, then were we go? Don't say home!”
“Home.”
“Ugh,” Eddie groaned, allowing Tommy to wrap an arm around his back and help him up. “You're like a no- no fun dad. Wish I'd texted fun dad.”
Tommy gripped onto Eddie tighter as he stumbled while taking a step. He sighed. “Maybe next time.”
*****
When Eddie woke up the next morning it was to a pounding headache and blinding sunlight coming through his window. He was nauseous and his mouth tasted like a mixture of gasoline and mouthwash.
He laid there for a few minutes, trying to figure out what happened that made him feel so unbelievably ill.
After a few failed attempts, he finally rolled out of bed and made his way into the kitchen to fix himself some coffee.
He froze when he walked through the door to see Tommy sitting there, reading the newspaper.
“Good... morning?” Eddie started, confused.
Tommy set the paper down. “Morning. Sleep well?”
“I- I think so, I guess. It's a little blurry.”
Tommy hummed. “Not surprising. Coffee just finished, if you want some. Your couch is not comfortable, by the way.”
“Buck's never complained.”
“Yeah, well, he's easier to please than I am.”
Eddie was too hungover for this. He had so many questions, but for some reason the first one out of his mouth was: “Where'd you put my shoes?”
“In your closet.”
He grabbed himself a cup for some coffee. “My keys?”
“We have to go pick them up at the bar today, along with your car, obviously.”
“You didn't close my curtains last night. Woke up thinking I was being interrogated by Ice T.”
Tommy sighed, leaning back in his seat. “'Thank you so much for getting me home safely, Tommy. Did it hurt your back having to drag me into the house while I belted out Bohemian Rhapsody at the top of my lungs?'” He stood, walking over to Eddie and taking the coffee out of his hand, drinking a big sip. “Thank you for asking, Eddie. I think my back will be okay, but my ears will never recover.”
Eddie rolled his eyes, turning to fix himself another cup. “Thank you for getting me home safely, Tommy. I appreciate it.”
“Mhm. No problem.” Tommy returned to his seat and Eddie joined him at the table. They sat in silence for a couple minutes, taking small sips of their drinks.
Eventually, Tommy set his cup down a little harder than normal, getting Eddie's attention with the clinking sound. “Wanna talk about it?”
“About what? How your coffee tastes like cigarette sludge?”
“I'll take that as a no then.” Tommy checked his watch. “The bar doesn't open until three. Want me to stop by and pick you up then?”
Eddie shook his head. “I can just get an Uber, Man, thanks though.”
“Of course. I'll, uh, let you recover.” Tommy stood and went to leave, checking his pocket for his keys and phone.
As he neared the door, Eddie spoke. “Wait,” he said. Tommy turned back to face him.
“Yeah?”
“Why'd you sleep on my couch?”
“You're my friend,” he answered simply. “You drank a lot. Wanted to make sure you were okay.” He took a step back toward the table. “Are you okay?”
Eddie cradled the mug in his hands, watching the steam rise from the cup. “You don't... How long has it been? Since you talked to your dad?”
Okay, so Tommy wasn't leaving then.
He came to the table and sat down, taking a moment to think about Eddie's question. “About six years, I think.”
“What did he do?” He looked over at Tommy. “To make you stop talking to him, I mean. Unless you don't wanna get into it. In fact, forget it, I shouldn't-”
“Eddie, it's fine,” Tommy assured him. “I don't mind.”
“Okay,” Eddie nodded, sitting up straighter. “So? What happened?”
“It wasn't just one thing,” Tommy explained. “It was a lifetime of things. He's... He's not a good man. I think the catalyst was about a year after I came out. I hadn't been home in awhile, so I decided to drive to his place one weekend. When he answered the door he said, 'What the hell are you doing here?' I told him I was coming to see him and he said, 'What's the damn point in that?' I thought about it for a second and realized that was a good question, so I turned around, got in my car, and left. Never looked back.” Eddie seemed to be contemplating his words, and Tommy could tell where this was going. “It's not the same thing, Eddie,” he said, beating Eddie to it.
“What if he doesn't come back? What I did, Tommy, it wasn't... It was bad.”
“You made a mistake.”
“I cheated on my girlfriend with a doppelganger of his mom, Tommy, and he caught me.”
“Granted, it was a big mistake,” Tommy deadpanned. “But, still a mistake. He'll come around. You gotta give him time.”
“People keep telling me that,” Eddie replied with an eye roll. “That he'll come around. But it's been months of nothing. And it seems like no matter what I do, it's not enough.”
“You're trying.”
Eddie huffed. “I'm not sure getting drunk alone at a bar is trying.”
“I think it shows you care, Eddie. And, yeah, that shouldn't become a habit, but you're allowed to be upset. You're allowed to hurt. You made a mistake, but you're a good dad and Christopher knows that. He will come around.”
“And if he doesn't?” Eddie asked, staring over at Tommy.
“Then you keep trying,” Tommy replied. “You never stop trying. Keep being there, keep sending him letters and getting him on Facetime. Go for a visit. Send him texts. I'm not saying you gotta smother him, but never let him forget that you're there. That's the biggest mistake you could ever make.”
“Yeah,” Eddie took a deep breath. “Yeah, you're right. I just... I gotta keep it up. Let him know I'm here, whenever he's ready.”
“Exactly.”
Eddie looked over at the clock on his stove, 11:32 staring back at him. He had no idea he'd slept so long. “Why don't you call Buck, see if he wants to come over and watch a game? Then you can drive me to my car.”
“Oh, you want me to call Evan? Don't you mean fun dad?” Tommy asked, eying Eddie.
It took him a minute, but the memory came back to him. “I did say that, didn't I?”
“You did,” Tommy confirmed. “Which I'm very offended by, by the way. I'm fun!”
Eddie sighed, his head drooping down. “I know you are.”
“I introduced you to karaoke trivia. I've flown you to Vegas.”
“I remember.”
“I never tried to seriously injure you in the name of love.”
“Which I'm very grateful for.”
“I don't have control issues when I have a clipboard in my hand.”
“Are you just gonna keep listing reasons why you're fun?”
“I once shoved three cupcakes in my mouth at once! Nearly choked to death, but Evan whacked me on the back and everything went down just fine.”
Eddie stood with his mug in hand, pointing toward the living room, “I'm gonna go to the couch. Get more comfortable.”
Tommy followed behind, pulling out his phone to call Buck. “I'll let Evan tell you who bowled a 230 last week. Hint: it was me!”
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whipped-for-kpop-fics · 5 months ago
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When they misunderstand and kiss your cheek - svt 97z
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💋Who; Seventeen 97z (individually) x reader 💋What; lil fluff reactions 💋Wordcount; 1.9k 💋Warnings; Very minor profanity.
Read the other versions here; 95z - 96z - Maknae3
-2024 Masterlist-
A/N- That's it! The last of the series! Ah, these were cute and fun to write, even if I wasn't always in the right headspace to write lil fluff pieces, I still enjoyed the process. Thank you to everyone who showed love to these, I appreciate every one of you 💖
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💋Seokmin💋 For as long as you can remember, you've always wanted to go to a photo booth with someone important to you and take some fun and cute photos to get printed on a little strip and treasure them. You don't know why exactly you want to do it so much, nor why you've never done so before when the booths are pretty common, it's just never happened. And if there's anyone you know will do it with you without question, it's Lee Seokmin. So one day you send him a mood board with a few photosets on it and tell him you want to do that with him. As suspected, Seokmin doesn't even ask a question besides "when?" A few days later, the pair of you are excitedly rushing through the shopping centre to the booth he promises you has the best filter options as if he's some kind of photo booth expert. Though he does turn out to be correct, at least as far as you're aware because there are some really cute filter options which you're excited to try. It goes exactly how you expect for a while, the two of you grinning pressed together on the bench and making funny faces and dramatic poses for the camera. Clearly, Seokmin had really paid attention to the photosets you sent him because he's leading you into some of the poses you can recall. You don't remember them all because honestly, you hadn't paid that much attention to the specific photos and just the general vibe. So you really hadn't noticed that most of the sets you sent him included some kind of cute cheek kiss photo. Therefore, Seokmin really can't be blamed for thinking you want that particular pose seeing as it featured so much. A pose you hadn't even noticed. Unbeknownst to you, Seokmin has been working himself up to this the entire time, the whole morning really. It feels like a big move, to kiss your cheek even if he's most certainly kissed most of the guys' cheeks many times. But this feels pretty fucking monumental, honestly.
You're just about to ask him if he wants to add a filter when he starts to lean in after taking a quick inhale to steady his nerves, the clicker in his right hand ready. The photo he happens to take is frankly, hilarious. He hadn't expected you to turn to talk to him right then and you certainly had not expected him to kiss you so what he winds up capturing when he presses the clicker is both of you wide-eyed and lips touching. "Uh," Seokmin starts when he gathers himself and leans back rapidly, cheeks flaming red in a way that matches yours. "I didn't know you were turning." "I didn't know you were…leaning in?" You look genuinely bewildered. "What exactly were you doing?" "Kissing your cheek?" His statement curves up into a question as your expression only grows more puzzled by his words. "Like-like the photos!" "What?" "The photosets all have a cheek kiss photo!" "They do?" He nods rapidly. "Oh, I didn't even notice." He deflates a little, well a lot really, you can see the way his embarrassment rapidly turns to disappointment. "You didn't want me to kiss your cheek?" "Well, I mean, I'm not opposed if you want to." You shrug lightly, trying to play it off as you slide your gaze aside to look at the screen shyly, though you immediately start to laugh at the large photo of you two staring in shock at each other with your lips brushing. "What?" Seokmin looks at the screen and starts to laugh. "We have to print that one." He giggles. "Our first kiss." "First?" "Uh-" He looks at you with wide eyes in alarm, he really had not meant to say that. "It's not even a real kiss." You point out then reach out to gently tug him closer by the collar of his t-shirt. "How about a real kiss this time?" "Seriously?" You nod and then can't help but giggle when he enthusiastically cups your neck with his free hand to lean in quickly. "Don't laugh." He whines. You vaguely register the sound of the booth taking photos. He's looking at you adoringly despite his whine, not that you know that yet, but you will when you have the proof in your hand when Seokmin insists on printing all of the photos you've taken. "You're so eager, it's cute." "I've wanted to kiss you for so long, sweetheart, of course, I'm eager. don't you want to kiss me?" He pouts and you're not entirely convinced it's entirely an act. "Come here, idiot." You tug him in the remaining gap to press your lips to his. Seokmin doesn't forget to press the clicker to capture your first real kiss, though he does very quickly drop it to hold your face and put all of his focus into kissing you breathless.
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💋Mingyu💋 A brand Mingyu has an advertisement deal with has sent him a package of their newest products and of course, he shares them with you as you have different skin types and the brand always sends him one of everything to try. So you're both sat on the floor in his living room, headbands on to keep your hair out of your faces and the collection on the coffee table in front of you with two little mirrors. A few minutes ago, he handed you the moisturiser that is apparently designed for your skin type, though you think something has gone very wrong with their formula as it has not dried well at all. Your skin feels all sticky and tacky to the touch, it's pretty gross and you certainly won't be using that again. Mingyu looks over when you mumble his name, his own skin shining with the drying moisturiser he has just finished diligently applying. And he finds you pouting while pressing your cheek slowly. To him, it looks like you want something and all he can think is that you want a kiss on the cheek. Although his stomach is fluttering with nerves at the sudden suggestion, he still shuffles a little closer so that he can lean over and press a kiss to the apple of your cheek. However, when he pulls back, he feels the tackiness on his lips and pulls a slightly disgusted expression while settling back into place and grabbing the packet of face wipes the company supplied. "You're sticky." He comments, tone as impressed as his face shows, which means, not at all. You stare at him for a second then nod slowly. "Yes, I am aware, that's what I was trying to tell you." Mingyu blinks at you dumbly, one hand raised to his mouth as he wipes the sticky residue from his lips. He lowers his hand a little to talk. "Not to kiss your cheek?" "Not to kiss my cheek." Immediately, Mingyu's cheeks flush with embarrassment and he directs his attention back to the mirror to wipe at his lips a little harder around a kind of muffled "oh, sorry." "It's okay," You mumble and hold your hand out. He glances at it and almost takes it into his own, momentarily assuming you want to hold hands but then he puts the packet of wipes on your palm and blushes darker. "I didn't mind." You assure softly as you turn to your own mirror and work on wiping away the product on your skin. "Oh." Mingyu tries not to grin dopily at what is essentially permission to kiss you again. As soon as you're done cleaning your skin, his lips find your cheek again, this time followed by a cute little shy giggle before he hands you a different product to try.
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💋Minghao💋 Lately, when you both have a spare few hours, you and Minghao have been watching a fantasy drama full of cute romantic tension between the two main leads. Neither of you had realised just how romance-focused the show is when you started and at first thought it might be a bit weird to watch so many kissing and suggestive scenes together, but it's not been as bad as either of you assumed. In fact, you both find yourselves playfully mimicking the actors quite a lot, it helps to remove the tension that builds otherwise. A tension that has been growing thicker and more obvious over the past months between the pair of you, both of you are aware of it but aren't sure if making a move is wise. You both value your current relationship and ease far too much to want to risk it. Though it comes to a head one afternoon when you're both sat on his couch tucked up under the same blanket with your snacks and the AC on because it's not cold at all, the blanket just feels too cosy and you're used to sharing it from this routine starting in winter. Of all the scenes to cause something to happen between you, it's a very cute one, with no suggestive remarks, and no tension on screen. The main female lead skips up to the main male lead and silently asks for a kiss by cutely pouting and turning her cheek towards him. Of course, he kisses her cheek and that's that, they share an adoring smile and go about their business. Without even thinking about it, you copy her action, pouting and tilting your cheek, just because you think it's a cute action and are used to copying the actors at this point. You really hadn't expected Minghao to be paying you any attention and to follow along. But then his lips are on your cheek and you freeze momentarily. "I think you do it cuter." He informs smoothly as he leans back and gently turns you to face him with his long fingers pressed tenderly against your jaw. Your eyes lock and despite there having been so many chances before now, so many moments full of pure tension, this is the moment that changes everything. "Can we stop pretending that we're going to be able to be friends for the rest of our lives?" "We're not going to be friends?" You reply quietly, heart thumping and certain you know what this means but you don't want to skip any scenes of your own love story. "I still want to be friends, yes, I care about you too much and love being friends with you to not be friends. But I want to be more," "Best friends?" You can't help but tease. Minghao's face drops for a second into his trademark unimpressed expression but he quickly breaks and chuckles. "Best friends and romantic partners sounds perfect to me. What do you say?" "I say it's about time." "Then can I kiss you somewhere else this time?" "Xu Minghao!" You gasp scandalised in the most theatric of ways. "We've just started our relationship and you're already trying to get me in bed, what would-" He cuts you off by leaning in and slotting his lips against yours. You giggle happily and tilt into the kiss. "Are you going to be this dramatic our whole relationship?" He hums when the short kiss breaks, brushing his nose against yours with a fond smile on his lips. "I am. Regret this yet?" "I can never regret you." And to prove his point, he kisses you again with all the months of pent-up affection spilling out to seep through your parted lips and down into your chest, filling it entirely as your own affection fills his in return.
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A/N- I think I have ruined myself with the Hao one, why did I make it so soft and sweet omg
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justlemmeadoreyou · 6 months ago
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3. protectively watchful (restaurant owner!harry x chef!reader)
(part 1 here) | (part 2 here)
summary: you take up on the mantorship offer, but it creates more tensions and turmoil within you than were before. an incident in the kitchen makes harry go into protective mode, and you can't help but get turned on by this man more and more.
words: 4.8k
warnings: sexual tension (like A LOT), inappropriate behaviour, protective!harry.
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***
"You wanted to see me, Chef?"
You gave a light knock on the open door of Harry's office, trying to sound polite and professional. It had been a few weeks since you had that talk with Harry about keeping things strictly business between you two. During that time, he had been a perfect mentor - giving you advice and guidance without any flirting or suggestive comments.
His coaching had really helped improve your cooking skills as you soaked up all his knowledge and experience. You were grateful to have a normal working relationship again, focused solely on culinary training. And yet...you couldn't ignore the faint lingering tension between you, that subtle underlying charge.
Harry looked up from the notebooks on his desk, his eyes crinkling in a warm smile when he saw you. "Ah, there you are. Come on in, have a seat."
You sat down in one of the chairs across from him as Harry neatened up the loose papers into a stack. Up close, you couldn't help noticing how well-fitted his black button-down shirt was, or how his tousled hair looked very touchable.  
Firmly reminding yourself this was just a professional meeting, you averted your eyes politely until Harry cleared his throat.
"So as you know, the big Martin gala fundraiser is coming up in a few weeks," he began, shuffling through some folders. "It's one of the biggest events of the year for underprivileged culinary education programs. I'll be preparing the featured dish for their live auction, and I'd love for you to assist me on it."
Your eyes went wide with surprise at this prestigious opportunity. The Martin gala was a hugely famous event in Chicago's culinary scene, attracting all the wealthiest and most notable diners. For an up-and-coming chef to collaborate on the centerpiece dish was an amazing honor and chance to get exposure.
"Wow, yes of course!" you replied enthusiastically. "I would be absolutely honored, Chef. Thank you for this incredible opportunity."  
Harry's dimples deepened as he smiled approvingly. "Don't thank me yet. We'll be under a huge spotlight to deliver an amazing showstopper dish. I expect you to rise to the challenge."
You quickly nodded. "You can count on me to give it my absolute best effort. I'm ready to do whatever work is needed."
"Excellent," Harry said in a slightly lower, huskier tone. "That's exactly what I like to hear."  
For a moment, his voice had a heated quality that hinted at other situations where your eagerness might be welcome. You ignored the shiver it sent through you, reminding yourself this was strictly business now between you two.
Harry seemed to realize he was skirting the line, as he abruptly straightened up and all hints of flirtation disappeared as he switched fully into mentor mode. "Right, well let me walk you through my basic vision so far..."
You leaned forward attentively as he outlined preliminary ideas for a highly ambitious and avant-garde dish blending molecular gastronomy techniques with classic French cuisine fundamentals. It was wildly cutting-edge, even for a showpiece event like the Martin gala. But the more details Harry provided, the more that same thrill of adrenaline rushed through you whenever presented with a new culinary challenge to conquer.
For the next hour, the two of you bounced ideas back and forth in that unique creative flow state that chefs share. Harry's presence was magnetic, but you refused to get distracted by more physical aspects - like the stretch of his biceps against his crisp sleeves, the hint of toned abs beneath his open collar, or the raspy timbre of his voice dipping into that lower register as he passionately discussed certain techniques.  
And oh, his damn tattoos.
No, you sternly told yourself as the conversation began wrapping up. Those days of getting flustered around him were over. Harry had made it clear where you stood, and you fully accepted those boundaries. Anything else was just self-torture.
"...but of course, those are just preliminary thoughts," Harry was saying as he collected the scattered folders into a neat pile. "We'll have plenty of time to refine the details over the next couple weeks."  
You nodded, filing away the mental notes you'd taken during the discussion. "Absolutely, Chef. Just let me know whatever you need for prep or testing different ideas to get a head start."
"Will do." With an air of finality, Harry gathered up the pile and rose from his seat. You quickly stood up as well, not wanting him to loom over you in the enclosed space. For a beat, you both hovered awkwardly, the air seeming to thicken between you.  
"Well then," Harry said, making no move to step past you towards the door. "I'd say this calls for a drink to celebrate our new collaboration, wouldn't you agree?"
Before you could reply, he turned and went to a small antique cabinet tucked in an alcove you hadn't noticed before. With a practiced hand, Harry selected a heavy glass decanter and two tumblers, placing them on the cabinet and expertly twisting off the stopper.
"Let's go with Lagavulin," he mused aloud, carefully pouring two generous glasses of the amber scotch whisky. "A good Scottish whisky seems appropriate for the occasion."  
"I really shouldn't, Chef," you said reflexively, already picturing your lightweight self getting sloppy and unprofessional after even a single drink.
But Harry just chuckled softly. "Loosen up a little. It's a celebration, after all."
He emphasized this by bringing one of the heavy tumblers over and pressing the cool glass into your hand. You frowned down at the coppery liquid, worrying your lower lip uncertainly. But before you could protest further, Harry gently clinked his glass against yours in a silent toast before taking a sizable sip.
The whisky's smoky, peaty aroma seemed to wrap around you intimately. Despite your hesitation, you couldn't help giving an appreciative inhale before taking a small, tentative sip yourself. Bold, layered flavors of vanilla, caramel, and charred oak underscored by an earthy smokiness burst over your tongue. You let out a soft sigh of indulgent pleasure at the decadent taste.
"Good, isn't it?" Harry's gravelly voice made you start slightly. He was watching you with amusement, whisky glass dangling casually from those large, handsome fingers. "It really hits you in the back of the throat, makes you slow down and savor it fully."
You suddenly realized the suggestive implication behind his phrasing and felt a flush of heat bloom across your face and chest. Harry watched the play of emotions flickering over your features with relish before taking another indulgent sip. This time, you noticed the way his full lips pursed delicately to drink, the tiny furrow of concentration between his brows as he savored the flavor before swallowing.
Unconsciously, your eyes tracked the mesmerizing flex of his throat as he swallowed, the hint of stubble grazing along his chiseled jawline. A twinge low in your abdomen accompanied the thought of feeling that scratchy burn of beard between your thighs, that talented mouth working magic elsewhere on your body.
Mortified, you shut down that wayward trail of thought through sheer willpower. Your cheeks grew even hotter as you realized Harry had caught you staring, his own gaze darkly amused.  
"Easy there," he murmured huskily, stepping a bit deeper into your personal space. "This dish is a marathon, not a sprint. Best to learn to savor every indulgent morsel along the way."
With a pointed look and arched brow, Harry raised his whisky to those plump lips once more, holding your gaze as he placed the rim against that full lower lip and let out an obscenely gratifying groan of pure delight.
Moments after, the tension had subsided, but the flush and blush that had creeped up your cheeks wasn’t going away anytime soon–you were sure of that.
***
You tried to push aside the lingering thoughts about the “Celebration” that were now implaed into your mind, and the way tiny droplets of the drink remained on his lips till he licked them off with his tongue–
You wanted that tongue to be yours.
Shaking your head, you focused on prepping the ingredients for the evening service. The dinner rush would be starting soon and you needed to have everything ready. As you worked, you were vaguely aware of the dining room filling up with patrons being seated. The sounds and aromas of the bustling kitchen surrounded you in a familiar, comforting way.
You were so engrossed in your tasks that you didn't notice the man approach until he cleared his throat loudly. Looking up, you saw a smartly-dressed diner smiling at you in a way that made you instinctively uncomfortable.
"Well, hello there," he said in a syrupy tone. "I was just admiring the delicious-looking fare over here." He raked an obvious look up and down your body. "The menu selections have my mouth watering already."
You stiffened, recognizing the overly familiar leer. This wasn't the first time you'd dealt with an obnoxious patron hitting on you. Keeping your expression neutral, you replied in a polite but firm tone. "I'm afraid you'll need to return to the dining room, sir. The kitchen is off-limits to guests."
Rather than taking the hint, the man leaned nonchalantly against your prep station. "Don't be like that, sweetheart. I was just hoping you could suggest something...special for me to sample tonight." He punctuated this with an exaggerated wink.
Suppressing a grimace, you turned away to continue your work, hoping he would give up and leave. No such luck. The lech sidled closer until he was nearly pressed against you. "What do you say? I'd love for a tasty little thing like you to--" 
"Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the kitchen area immediately." Harry's firm baritone cut across the man's words like a whip crack.  
You looked up in relief to see your boss standing with arms crossed, jaw clenched as he glared at the offending patron. Even from several feet away, you could sense the potent force of his displeasure rolling off him in waves.
The diner seemed to shrink slightly under Harry's censorious scowl. "Oh, uh, my apologies. I was just trying to get some personal recommendations--"
"The kitchen is off-limits and you're making my staff uncomfortable," Harry interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. "I won't ask again. Return to your table or you'll be asked to leave the premises."
Looking sufficiently cowed, the lech swiftly retreated with some mumbled apologies. You exhaled slowly, trying to dispel the anxiety brought on by the unpleasant encounter. Harry stepped closer, his expression softening as he looked you over with concern.
"You okay? That asshole didn't go too far, did he?"
You managed a faint smile, oddly touched by the protective edge in his voice. "I'm fine, Chef. Just another boorish customer thinking the uniform is a dinner invitation."  
His jaw tightened again as he scowled in the direction the man had gone. "That type of behavior is completely unacceptable. You let me know right away if anyone hassles you like that again, understand?"
Nodding, you found yourself blinking rapidly against the unexpected prickle of grateful tears at having Harry firmly in your corner, despite the complicated dynamics between you lately.  
For a long moment, he watched you carefully as if gauging your equilibrium. Then Harry surprised you by reaching out and briefly squeezing your shoulder in a reassuring gesture. The warmth of his large hand seeped through your uniform, leaving a tingly imprint even after he pulled away.
"I've got your back, [Y/N]. You focus on doing your job and let me deal with any assholes who get out of line."
The gruff tenderness in his words made your heart do a traitorous little flip in your chest. You nodded again, not trusting your voice enough to respond properly.
With one final pointed look, Harry turned and headed back out to his front-of-house duties.  As you watched his broad-shouldered form disappear through the swinging doors of the kitchen, you felt a complicated tangle of gratitude, protectiveness, affection...and yes, a lingering undercurrent of attraction that you couldn't seem to fully extinguish despite your best efforts.
You spent the rest of the dinner service determinedly pushing aside any lingering thoughts about Harry or the earlier incident. Focusing fully on your work was the only way to get through these confusing emotions that had you all over the place..
The rhythm of prepping, plating, and coordinating with the other line cooks settled into a familiar, reassuring routine. The constant flurry of chopping, sautéing, and barked orders provided a sort of meditative escape from your muddled headspace.
By the time the last diner had been served and the kitchen was winding down for the night, you felt pleasantly drained in that satisfying way that comes from a job well done. As you began breaking down your station for cleaning, Harry emerged from his office looking satisfied.
"Excellent work tonight, everyone," he called out in that effortlessly commanding tone. "Front-of-house said the new salmon dish was a huge hit. We'll definitely want to keep that one on the seasonal menu." 
A chorus of tired but pleased murmurs went around the kitchen at the praise. Harry's eyes found yours amidst the small crowd, holding your gaze a beat longer than strictly necessary before moving on to the other cooks. You tried not to read too much into it.
With the nightly pep talk concluded, Harry rolled up the sleeves of his crisp white chef's coat, joining everyone in the evening breakdown and cleaning duties. You watched surreptitiously as he expertly broke down one of the grill stations, muscles in his broad forearms flexing enticingly with each efficient movement.  
Get a grip, you scolded yourself, quickly refocusing on scrubbing down your own prep area. This was exactly the kind of distracted, unprofessional behavior you were trying to avoid lately around Harry.
Despite your best efforts, however, you couldn't fully ignore him moving about the kitchen, checking in with each station to oversee their sanitation. At one point, he paused to examine some utensils that hadn't been properly cleaned, tsking in displeasure before batting them aside to be re-scrubbed.  
"That's never going to meet inspection," he chided the sheepish-looking young line cook in his trademark gruff tone. "Do it again, and do it properly this time. We're not running a greasy spoon here."  
As much as his uncompromising attitude could be intimidating, you also found it oddly...thrilling to witness Harry taking charge so authoritatively. Not to mention the visual of those powerful hands deftly at work was sending your thoughts in an unprofessional direction yet again.
Sternly redirecting your focus, you turned your back to give the area behind the grill station a thorough scrubbing. You were so engrossed that you nearly jumped out of your skin when Harry's low voice sounded directly in your ear.
"Everything looking good over here?" 
You whirled around to find him looming directly behind you, near enough that you could smell the spicy notes of his subtle cologne mingling with the lingering kitchen aromas clinging to him. Up this close, you couldn't help noticing how the top buttons of his coat had come undone at some point, offering a teasing glimpse of the toned chest beneath.
Trying not to stare, you quickly averted your eyes as you nodded. "Y-yes, Chef. All clean on this side."
"Hmm." His assessing gaze slowly raked over your work before returning to your flushed face. The tiniest of smirks played about his lips as if he could read the direction of your thoughts.  
"Well, then. Carry on," was all he said before turning and strolling unhurriedly back towards his office, burgundy cargo pants slung enticingly low on those lean hips.
You let out a shaky breath, mentally cursing how easily flustered you still became around this man, no matter how much you tried to enforce boundaries. Resolutely, you refocused on finishing your cleaning tasks, determined to get out of there before any more distracted lapses in professionalism.
By the time the kitchen had been scoured from top to bottom, you were one of the last few staffers remaining. Wearily peeling off your apron, you were just reaching for your bag when Harry reappeared, looking unhurried and relaxed now that the nightly duties were done.
"Heading out?" he asked as you approached, one thick eyebrow raised questioningly.
You stifled a yawn with the back of your hand. "Yeah, I'm beat. Gonna try and get some extra sleep before the morning prep shift tomorrow."
He made a noncommittal sound, falling into step beside you as you headed for the employee exit out back. For a few moments, you walked in silence, oddly aware of the warmth radiating off his body this close to yours.
When he finally spoke, it wasn't at all what you expected. "You did good with that asshole customer earlier."
Your steps faltered slightly at the praise before quickly recovering. "Oh...uh, thanks, Chef. You really didn't need to step in like that."
"The hell I didn't," he countered gruffly. There was an edge to his tone that made the tiny hairs at your nape prickle. "No one treats my staff like piece of meat, especially not in my own goddamn kitchen."
Harry shook his head in disgust at the very idea, causing a lock of mahogany hair to fall rakishly across his furrowed brow in a way that really shouldn't have been as distracting as it was.
Swallowing hard, you refocused on the matter at hand. "I've dealt with guys like that before. Just comes with the territory sometimes, y'know?"
"That doesn't make it acceptable," he insisted, mouth setting into a grim line. You found yourself unable to look away from the sharp angles of his frowning profile, chiseled jaw ticking faintly with irritation, that he tried to mask.
He fixed you with those intense pale eyes, all traces of humor gone. "No one - and I mean no one - gets to treat any of you with disrespect while I'm in charge around here. I won't stand for that shit under my roof."
The ferocity in his tone sent an involuntary shiver rippling through you, though from wariness or...something else entirely, you couldn't say. All you knew was the low, authoritative resonance of Harry's voice carried an unmistakable air of command that raised goosebumps along your arms.
Maybe it was the late hour, or the fact you were walking in such close proximity out of public view. Or hell, maybe it was just the sheer presence of this man who could flip between stern taskmaster and something rawer, more carnal in the blink of an eye.
Whatever it was, you felt that subtle spark between you ignite and suddenly, you desperately needed to be alone to process the yearning that flickered to life low in your belly. Before you could consider the impulse further, you were blurting out the first excuse that came to mind.
"Well, thanks again for that. And for the whole mentorship thing too. I, uh...I actually have some errands to run, so I'll just catch you tomorrow morning, 'kay?" 
You didn't even give Harry a chance to respond before ducking through the exit, muscles taut with confused tension. As the cool night enveloped you, you drew a deep, shuddering breath in an effort to steady yourself.
Whatever weird atmospheric flux had momentarily enveloped you back there was too dangerous, too distracting from the tenuous balance you and Harry had only just reestablished. No, it was better to put some space between you before things got muddied again.
With a fierceness born of sheer force of will, you wrestled your turbulent, wandering thoughts back under control. You were a professional, with goals to work towards. Getting pulled into Harry's electrifying orbit again would only derail you.
Still, as you hurried to your car, his shape-shifting countenance kept flashing unbidden across your memory - the dazzling smile, the brooding intensity, the simmering promise of authority barely restrained. All of it provided an infuriatingly potent combination that had your body humming with repressed longing despite yourself.
This was going to take more effort than you'd anticipated.
***
The next couple of weeks passed in a blur of grueling practice runs and preparation for the Martin gala. You and Harry spent nearly every waking hour in the kitchen, iterating endlessly on his showpiece dish concept.
With the prestigious event date rapidly approaching, any lingering awkwardness or tension between you had been shifted firmly into the background. The shared urgency of perfecting this culinary masterpiece became an all-consuming focus that left little room for anything else.
Still, that didn't stop you from noticing...things.
Like how the sleeves of Harry's whites had an endearing tendency to get shoved up his forearms in a way that displayed those tanned, sinewy muscles to distracting effect as he worked. You definitely didn't linger over the sight of his strong hands deftly wielding a knife, making precise, practiced cuts. And you absolutely did not imagine those dexterous fingers trailing across your skin instead of the cutting board.  
At least, that's what you sternly told yourself in an ongoing effort to maintain focus.
For his part, Harry was all business during these preparation sessions - issuing clipped instructions, evaluating ingredients with a critical eye, pushing both of you relentlessly to get every component just right. Only rarely did you catch hints of something more underneath that professional veneer.
Like the time you were bent over a burner, carefully spooning out the orbs of flavored olive oil onto the waiting plate. Harry stepped up behind you to examine your work, the warmth of his body radiating against your back. As he leaned in closer to inspect the delicate orbs, his low murmur caressed the fine hairs at your nape in a way that made you shiver.
"That's it...go nice and slow with a deft touch," he rumbled in that raspy timbre that never failed to send tingles shooting straight to your core.
Heart pounding, you risked a sidelong glance to find his pale eyes already locked on yours, glittering with an intensity that contrasted sharply with his deceptively neutral expression. A charged moment stretched between you as that underlying spark you'd been determinedly ignoring flared, sudden and molten. 
Just when you thought you might spontaneously combust, Harry blinked and cleared his throat brusquely. "Carry on, then," he instructed in his normal crisp tone before turning away to focus on another component. 
You stood motionless for several heartbeats, fingers clenched around the spoon, skin flushed and tingling in equal measures of arousal and disbelief. Did that really just happen or had the endless hours in the kitchen started affecting your mind?
Too skittish to ponder it further, you dove back into your tasks with even more single-minded focus, the uneasy moment shelved and locked away tight. No matter what fleeting tension arose in isolated pockets, you couldn't afford to unpack it right now - not with the enormity of what was at stake.
The days ticked down in a relentless march until finally, you and Harry stood in the solitude of his spartan office the night before the big event, taking a breather from your marathon final prep session.
An ungodly number of mise en place containers filled every available surface, each holding fussed-over components of the highly elaborate and conceptual dish that would make its debut tomorrow. Harry had pushed you both to your physical and creative limits, drilling the execution repeatedly until he was satisfied you could plate it flawlessly under the anticipated scrutiny.
Now, having quality-checked and prepped every last possible element, there was nothing further to do except rest up and bring your sharpest mental game tomorrow. Harry seemed to deflate slightly as the backdrop of mounting pressure decreased for the first time in weeks.
Propping his hip against the desk with studied nonchalance, he quirked one eyebrow in a sidelong glance. "You ready for this?"
Despite your weariness, you felt that familiar thrill of adrenaline stir at those simple words - as well as a contradictory quiver of nerves. This event was a make-or-break opportunity of the highest magnitude, especially for someone like you just starting out. Either you nailed your responsibilities tomorrow, or it all came crashing down in front of Chicago's most elite gourmands.
Shoving aside the sudden flutters of doubt, you met Harry's inscrutable gaze head-on, straightening your spine. "You know I am. We've put in the work, and this dish is gonna blow them all away."
A tiny smirk tugged at the corner of his sculpted mouth as he studied you appraisingly. "That's what I like to hear. Just remember - all the technique practice in the world won't mean a thing if you panic out there."
The subtle warning made you bristle defensively, never one to back down from a challenge. "I'm not going to panic," you scoffed. "I eat massive amounts of public pressure like this for breakfast."
Harry's eyes danced with amusement, and not for the first time, it struck you how effortlessly he could switch between imposing and playful. "Is that so?" he drawled easily. "In that case, would you care to make things a bit more interesting?"
Before you could respond, Harry kicked off from the desk in one sinuous motion to prowl closer. Despite your weariness, you felt your heart rate kick up several notches as he invaded your personal space, long body coiled with a loose, predatory grace.
"Let's say we raise the stakes a little," he proposed in a tone of studied nonchalance that was completely belied by the heated glint in his eyes boring into yours. "If you can prove you've got the chops to keep a cool head under fire tomorrow, I'll take you out afterwards to celebrate. Just you and me, anywhere you want to go."
Your mouth went instantly dry at the implications behind his offer. Were those...the unmistakable undertones of flirtation coloring his invitation? After the weeks of him keeping things strictly professional between you, the sudden shift was dizzying - and left you dangerously intrigued.
"And what if I choke?" you heard yourself countering recklessly before you could reconsider. "What do you get out of it then?"
His answering smile was pure blistering sin. "Oh, sweetheart. If that happens...I get to take you out too - but somewhere a bit more private."
Harry paused to let the suggestive proposition linger, backing it up with a slow, heated raking of his pale eyes over your body that left zero doubt as to his implication. Heat bloomed furiously across your cheeks as forbidden images flooded your mind unbidden - flashes of tangled limbs, straining muscle, sweaty exertion of a far different sort...
Then, just like that, the provoking spell was broken. Rocking back on his heels, Harry shrugged one broad shoulder in an easy, dismissive gesture. "But that's not going to happen, is it? You've got all the skills, you've put in the time - no reason to buckle tomorrow."
He threw one final weighted glance in your direction before pivoting on his heel towards the door. "Get some rest. I'll see you at the venue early to do our final walkthrough before we get this show on the road."
And with that parting comment, Harry strode casually out, leaving you rooted there in dumbfounded silence. What the hell had just happened? One moment, you'd merely been steeling yourselves for tomorrow's high stakes challenge - and then suddenly he was issuing some bizarrely flirtatious...proposition.
Or was that really what it was? As you stood there chasing replays of his words, his tone, his body language - the whole previous interaction kept taking on a slinkier, more salacious cast. Like maybe your presence of mind was slipping already, causing you to read into things that weren't really there.
No...no, you decided as you hefted your bag, determined to put it all out of your head for now. Harry was just his usual aggravating self, trying to rile you by dangling some imagined reward or punishment to keep you on your toes before the big event. This whole...suggestive semiflirtation thing was just the product of your own exhausted mind playing tricks.  
Firmly shoving aside all unsettling thoughts, you focused on the immediate challenge awaiting tomorrow. You would plate Harry's showpiece dish to absolute perfection, prove yourself under the brightest lights, and decisively seize this career-making opportunity. 
Everything else could be dealt with later.
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
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personasintro · 1 year ago
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Mutual Help | #01
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.4k+
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𝐚/𝐧: this bombass comeback wouldn't be as amazing and special if it weren't for @kithtaehyung who made the best new mh banner anyone could ever make!!! ryen, thank you bub so much for putting up with my indecisive ass and taking the time to make not only this banner but different versions before that! I truly appreciate it and I'm thankful you're a part of this!!
ogs know this one is reposted but I hope everyone will enjoy it whether they're rereading it or reading for the first time! lastly, thank you for the endless love and support, i love y'all ♡
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𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 
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The hallway looks exactly the same, which there isn't any reason why it should look different all of a sudden, but considering you haven't been in this building for the past few weeks just makes you want to notice the slightest change. But there is none. It still smells sterile with a little bit of sweetness which reminds you of cinnamon. You're not sure why, nor do you really dwell on it too much.
You could imagine your Thursday evening differently, which means laying down as soon as you come home and turn on Netflix, trying to spend at least twenty minutes finding a good show. That's been your routine for weeks now, but you're not complaining. It feels that void of loneliness in your smart one bedroom apartment.
Although, you can't help but feel nervous when you picture the message you got from Jimin.
'come to Jungkook's, he needs us' 
He never explained anything further, nor replied to the tons of your messages or missed calls. You wouldn't be on the edge, if you've seen or heard from Jungkook. Apart from some occasional messages like 'what's up' or 'what were you doing today?', your communication went downhill. But you don't blame him or yourself for it. You were both busy and probably still are, to even hangout like you always used to.
It bothered you for some time, not hanging out with your best friend like you used to. But you've grown used to that small but painful fact that you don't have to see each other every day. Plus, after some time you've realized, you can still be best friends with someone without having to chat with them 24/7. Gratefulness is how you'd describe your feelings. Grateful that your friendship works, even though you don't get to spend your time with each other that often.
Your knuckles meet the wood of Jungkook's front door in a gentle manner, which is a complete opposite of your inside feelings as you've this weird feeling inside of you. The message Jimin sent you was weird and you haven't heard from anyone since then.
And when the door finally opens, you're glad you're met with Jimin himself as he stares at you with hopeful eyes and a breath of relief that escapes his plush lips. You rush inside, already taking off your shoes and jacket while you confusingly stare at your friend that looks more than relieved to see you.
"What the hell happened? You never texted me back." you tell him, or more like scold him rather than properly greet him.
"Ah, sorry," he cringes, pulling out his phone before he notices the bunch of messages and missed calls from you. "It's just—"
"This is bullshit."
The grumpy and raspy voice unintentionally cuts him off, booming inside of the apartment causing your ears to naturally perk up. Is it just you or his voice got deeper? You look at Jimin with a questioning gaze, who sees the confusion on your features as you hear Jungkook's grumpy and annoyed voice. Rather than explaining something to you, he sighs and with a quick cock of his head towards the living room, you both walk inside.
You're surprised when you see Taehyung there as well, opening a beer can before he pushes it into Jungkook's hands. Surprisingly, the mentioned guy is slouched on his beige couch, wearing one of his baggy shirts and loose sweatpants with his hair looking like he hasn't brushed them for days.
Taehyung's eyes meet yours as soon as you step in, noticing the mess around including two pizza boxes thrown on the floor and empty cans of coke and beer on the coffee table. "Oh, thank god!" Taehyung breathes out the same sigh of relief, causing you to greet him with a confused 'hello'.
Although, you don't wait for any reaction because your best friend finally acknowledges your presence in his home, head lazily turning in your direction as you walk up to him.
"Great," he mutters, almost rolling eyes at the sight of you. "Who called her?" he eyes the two of his best friends, scoffing before he takes a gulp of the beer that Taehyung handed him.
"What kind of reaction is that, asshole?" you react right away, frowning at your best friend that hasn't seen you for weeks and this is his first reaction.
"Don't mind him, please. He's just a little bit drunk right now." Jimin quickly jumps into an action, noticing your fireback and unappreciative tone that's aimed at none other than Jungkook himself.
He rolls his eyes at Jimin words, but doesn't say anything else before Taehyung watches you with cautious doe eyes. He sits in a chair, arm leaned against his knee as he anxiously bites his nails even though he tries to act casual. You don't buy it.
"What the fuck is going on?" you ask them, pointing towards Jungkook that looks like a truck just hit him.
Jimin opens his mouth, but Jungkook glares at him which ends up with him shutting it right away and when you look at Taehyung, he doesn't even spare you a glance.
"Which one of you called her?" Jungkook speaks up, eyeing the two of his friends as they point to each other causing you to snort. Cowards. "I'm fine. I don't see a reason why you make such a big deal out of this. I'm fine."
The fact that he had to repeat the same sentence twice, just proves that no — he's not fine. And before the wheels in your head start to work and roll, Jimin's voice speaks up in a clear, yet quick tempo.
"Kiko broke up with Jungkook."
The room goes silent, faint sounds coming out of the television are filling out the thick silence in the room as Jungkook freezes, not even glaring at his friend that apologetically shrugs at him.
One of the reasons why you haven't got to see your best friend that often is, that he simply found a girlfriend. Trying to combine his work, personal love life and you was already hard. But you get it. You're not mad or annoyed at him, because the two of you still kept in touch. It was just a matter of time until some of you found someone and naturally, there wouldn't be that much time to spend your days together. It was bound to happen and you knew Jungkook would be the first one to find someone.
He's your best friend, but you're not blind. He's one of the most handsome guys you've ever met, not just that but his personality is something that most girls would fall for. His attitude is pissy right now and now, you know the true reason behind it. But the Jungkook you know, is one of the most caring people you know. And not only that, but he's funny, intelligent and perfect at almost everything. He's the whole package and any girl would be lucky to snatch him.
And that girl, or perhaps you should say a woman, happened to be Kiko. A Japanese beauty that their mutual friend introduced them to one another. It clicked off immediately. Even you've noticed it when Jungkook Rain checked almost every plan you had together. He started to stare into his phone with all those puppy heart eyes whenever she texted him. At first, you found it annoying because it was just plain rude, watching him text her every five seconds instead of trying to hang out with you. But then, you just stopped caring and whenever you went silent, he'd just pushed his phone away and tried to gain your attention.
It was stupid, because you knew if you gave him attitude or silent treatment, he would just feel bad and tried to focus on you. Until the both of you stopped hanging out with each other that much.
"She did?" you mutter, staring at Jungkook who stares in front of him with a wiped out gaze. You've never seen him in this kind of state. "I'm sorry, Kook."
"Yeah, well, shit happens." he grumbles, clenching his jaw as he takes another gulp of beer that's securely clenched in his hand.
You've seen Jungkook having a couple of girlfriends, but you know that his relationship with Kiko was different. He wasn't just any girlfriend that he tried to get to know, she was someone that he completely fell for and couldn't stop talking about. He's in love. And even though he's being an ass to his friends right now, it's just his coping mechanism and you know that whatever Jimin and Taehyung has been doing, hasn't helped much. He plays tough right now, hiding his true feelings under this cold and uninterested facade but you know him better.
And when he keeps glancing at you before he quickly looks away, it's almost as if he can hear your exact thoughts.
"Well," you hastily speak, clapping your hands together as you lightly smile at everyone in the room. "You don't wanna date anyone whose name is Kiko." you try to joke, a laugh and snort erupting from Jimin and Taehyung who has obviously found your little joke funny.
Jungkook on the other hand, looks even more pissed off because he never looked at you with so much anger and annoyance as he's looking right now, causing you to squirm in your spot. "Real class, Y/N." he barks at you, causing you to slump in defeat before Jimin squeezes your shoulders in comfort.
"I brought you banana milk. I didn't know what happened, so I thought this would be a nice and quick save." you lightly tell him, sitting at the end of the couch, next to his sprawled legs but he doesn't move them away.
"Jeez, I'm not some fucking kid. Banana milk won't fix my broken heart." he scoffs, shaking his head while the three of you are even surprised that he just admitted that he has a broken heart. Well, clearly but since he's been putting up this tough act, it still comes as a shock. Judging by the look of Jimin's and Taehyung's face, they seem to think the same thing.
"I know that, Kook," you quietly tell him, hastily grabbing one of his ankles as you squeeze it in a manner to comfort him. He doesn't budge, that means something. "Is there anything we can do for you?" you ask him, not really sure if he's even going to answer that.
His brows furrow while he fumbles with his fingers, the slightest pout adoring his small lips as he thinks your question through. The three of you watch him with curious eyes, wondering what the hell is this guy thinking of. He looks at you, then at Jimin and Taehyung before he softly sighs.
"I mean... there's nothing you guys can do." he says softly, taking another gulp of beer that tastes like piss. Korean beer is just not good, and you're surprised that Jungkook even drinks it. But he never had any problem with any alcohol, that man can drink and eat anything.
There's nothing you can think of that could possibly help him out of his heartbreak. The only thing for you to do, is to be there for him. And if drinking a beer that tastes like piss is some kind of twisted way of helping him, you're in. So, you reach out and grab one of the unopened cans before you open it with a loud 'click', taking a gulp of it.
"What are you doing?" Jungkook sits up, staring at your scrunched nose and distaste written all over your face.
"Drinking with you." you shrug, taking another huge gulp of it. The more you drink it, the less it tastes awful.
"But you hate this beer." he reminds you, scowling at you and your nonstop gulping, hand twitching to get it away from you.
"I know," you shrug, grinning at him. "It doesn't taste that bad. Now come on," you nudge him with your leg, raising your can to him. "Cheers." you call out to him, ignoring his big doe eyes that stare at you with a slight confusion before he sighs.
"Cheers." he mutters, clicking his can against yours before the both of you take another gulp.
The two of you are completely unaware of your friends' faces that are washed with relief and knowing eyes as they stare at you and Jungkook. All it took was just to call you to save the day. Jungkook might not be in his greatest mood or show his appreciation for you to be there for him, but drinking without constant complaining and cursing is still a better result that Jimin and Taehyung managed to get.
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"I've never thought I'd ever drink this much of this piss beer." you croak out, putting another empty can onto Jungkook's messy coffee table. You sit back, head falling onto his shoulder as you silently inhale his scent. It always reminded you of his fabric softener that smells like a baby, mixed with his cologne that is very faint on his clothes.
"How do you know what piss tastes like?" Jungkook asks, raising his brow at you while the corner of his lips twitches in amusement. "Do you wanna tell me about your weird kinks?" he cocks his head at you, causing you to groan as you hit his shoulder but it does nothing to him, he doesn't even budge.
A chuckle roars in the back of his throat, a first sound that can be considered as a positive emotion.
"It's not like that." you mutter, growing embarrassed at the thought of Jungkook thinking about your kinks. Not that you know about them that much. You might think there are some things you might like, but you never had anyone to try it with. How possibly could you know? But the idea of you having a piss kink, or whatever that's called, makes you want to gag. Maybe it's the beer or just a single thought of it, who knows.
Jimin and Taehyung already left, once they saw Jungkook loosening up, they took that chance to go home and leave the two of you alone. Not even once he talked about his heartbreak, you silently watched a TV show that Jungkook turned on whilst drinking a beer and munching on some crackers that Taehyung handed you before they left.
Glancing at Jungkook, his face is illuminated from the screen whilst he's watching a TV show with slightly furrowed brows. And when it finally stops, he sighs and grabs the remote to browse through some other movies and TV shows. He keeps browsing through them for a couple of minutes, muttering a pair of curses when he can't find anything he likes. You turn on the lamp in the very corner of his living room, causing him to frown even more from the sudden light.
You sit next to him, staring at him as he sighs and looks back at you. "What?" he asks unbothered, the remote still clutched in his hand.
"I'm sorry, Kook," you tell him silently, reaching for his shoulder which you squeeze in comfort, like you previously did with his ankle. "I know that you loved her."
And you see his facade crack, when he sucks his bottom lip as he quickly looks away from you to blink away the tears that are threatening to fall. You've never seen him this vulnerable.
"Love," he mutters, causing you to let out a confused 'huh?' in response. "Not loved her, but love. I still love her." he corrects you.
"Why did she break up with you? You don't have to tell me if you don't feel comfortable enough, but you guys seemed so close together."
It doesn't make any sense. Jungkook kept talking about her even through your messages, and you could practically feel the happiness radiating from his single messages. His whole Instagram is filled with their pictures, or just single shots of Kiko that Jungkook has taken and captioned with a single heart emoji. You've never seen him being so in love before. That's when you've realized that Kiko is different from any other women that Jungkook was seeing.
You don't push him into answering, the last thing you want for him is to get upset with you. But you can't keep walking around eggshells for this whole night.
"Apparently, she just wants some time for herself. She wants to explore other things, whatever the fuck that means." he bitterly chuckles, eyes filled with anger but you know it's just hidden hurt.
"Maybe you'll find someone else, Kook. You're still young."
Scoffing, he shakes his head. "She's the love of my life. I really doubt there's someone else for me. I was about to ask her to move in with me."
Shit, he's really serious about her.
"You did?"
He nods, biting onto his lower lip before he lets it go, fumbling his eyes before he sighs in defeat. "I love her." he whispers, his voice sounding so vulnerable that it makes your heart clench.
You go straight into hugging him, enveloping his huge body to yours as he starts to cry into your chest. For the first time, he finally breaks in front of someone else rather than himself. He clutches to your body, tears wetting your shirt but you don't mind it, grabbing him even tighter. He cries, something he doesn't usually do in front of everyone. You realize how he kept holding himself in front of Taehyung and Jimin when all he wanted was to cry it out.
"It's okay, you're going to be okay." you tell him, cheeks pressed against his hair that got super long since you've last seen him.
He sniffles, wiping his eyes before he slightly pulls away. "It happened two weeks ago and I'm still such a fucking mess." he scoffs at himself.
"Two weeks ago?" you exclaim, surprised by the new information. "It happened two weeks ago and I know just... now?"
He glares at you and you quickly shut your mouth. "Not everything is about you, Y/N." he reminds you.
Rolling your eyes, you're about to curse at him for being so rude but then you remember his state. He's just hurt and in a way, he's right. "No, that's not what I meant. I just... I'm surprised that you didn't tell me sooner. If it weren't for Jimin, I don't think I'd be here right now." you explain, thinking about all possibilities that could happen.
"I was going to," he mutters, reaching for a bottle of water instead as he takes a few gulps. "But I needed some time to myself. I didn't want anyone to see me like this." he points out towards his slightly puffed eyes.
You just wished he'd tell you sooner. But you don't tell him that. It's not selfish to think that, because you just wanted to be there for him sooner. Nobody should go through such a heartbreak alone. Not when he has you and other two friends willing to be there for him.
"You know that you can tell me anything, right? I'm always here for you." you remind him, flushed cheeks when you see his eyes already set on you.
The friendship between you and Jungkook is mostly surrounded with you teasing each other and in a way, he's like an older brother to you. You don't get all sentimental with each other, even though you're always there for one another. It's an unspoken rule and natural feeling that your friendship has.
"I know," he says softly, giving you the best little smile he can muster. "And I'm so grateful for that. I know I was acting like an asshole and I'm sorry, I just... I'm really happy that you're here."
You don't get to hear such words often, especially coming out of Jungkook's mouth, but that's why you're even more pleased to hear them.
You smile back at him, silently thanking him and also saying that it's okay and you get it. It's quiet for a moment. Jungkook fumbles with his fingers as you silently watch him, noticing a few new tattoos that decorate his honey skin.
"Y/N?" he asks suddenly, causing you to hum in return. " You know when you asked me, if there's something you could do for me?"
"Oh, boy. What is it this time?" you joke, causing him to silently chuckle under his breath.
What could he possibly want to know? The last time he wanted something from you, was to clean his whole apartment because he twisted his ankle. But whatever that comes out of his mouth next, never occurred to you before.
"Can you pretend to be my girlfriend?"
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© 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨 (𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝) | don't forget to reblog ♡
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joelscruff · 1 year ago
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feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART FIVE
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previous chapters | kofi | i'm honestly amazed that i actually completed this chapter today; as a lot of yall know i've been dealing with a lot of shitty life stuff lately and part of me expected this to not even get posted this month. and yet!! here we are. thank you to everyone who has been so supportive and amazing, this chapter is for you and i hope you like it 💖 chapter summary: you're starting to feel a bit insecure about your relationship with joel. perhaps a late night visit to his house is what you need 👀 rating: 18+ explicit warnings: age difference (reader is in her 20s, joel in his 50s), innocent/inexperienced reader, corruption, praise kink (joel calls reader babygirl, sweetheart, etc), dirty talk, mentions of religion (reader’s family are very catholic), fingering, handjobs, comeplay word count: 9k (woops) ao3
The rest of the week goes by gruelingly slow. Joel is busy every day and has barely any time to talk, so you mainly communicate through texts. The "conversations" are slow and broken, Joel only able to text when he has a free moment, which doesn't seem to be very often. You don't talk on the phone again, as much as you want to hear his voice, and you don't sext again either. It's a bit weird, a bit confusing, but you navigate it as best you can. It's not like he's ignoring you, he always responds, but it's just not the same as that first day.
you still wanna do this, right?
You type it around midnight on Thursday, hands trembling a bit as you hover over the send button. In one way you're afraid to ask him, afraid to seem clingy or young or inexperienced; but you're all of those things. When he's actually talking to you directly there's no fear, no question about what he wants, but going so long without hearing his voice makes you more and more insecure about what exactly he's thinking.
You erase the first message and start to type another one:
i know you're busy but
You shake your head and erase that one too. This is so stupid. Of course he still wants you, you idiot.
He'd said he was okay with the lie you'd told, had even said he would actually teach you guitar now too, but you're an overthinker, always have been. You can't help but feel dread whirling around in the pit of your stomach; he wants to end it, it's too complicated now. You've turned something sexy and fun into something ridiculous and unnecessary.
You lock your phone without sending anything and roll around in bed a bit, trying to sleep. Your thoughts make it impossible though, nagging at the front of your mind worse than your parents. You sit up and slide the tip of your thumb into your mouth, biting down in thought and staring at the blank screen of your phone.
What if you just...
are you home?
He hadn't sent you anything earlier to confirm he'd gotten back; you've discovered over the past few days that contractors really like to drink after their shift. Joel's been at the bar every night since that first day, often 'til late; you have to admit, it makes you a bit jealous to imagine Joel and his contracting crew out having a great time while you're laying in your childhood bed with a curfew. Bar hopping and partying has never appealed to you before, at least not when your college friends did it, but now the thought of it doesn't seem so bad. Not if you were doing it with him...
Your phone buzzes and you feel excitement burst through you at his reply:
Got in about 10 minutes ago, didn't think you'd be up. You okay?
You soften at his concern, cheeks warming. You don't hesitate, knowing if you think too much about it you'll end up changing your mind. You type your your response and hit send before you can talk yourself out of it.
can i come over?
You stare at the screen with bated breath, watching as his typing bubble appears. It takes barely any time at all for him to reply:
Of course you can. Door's unlocked.
--
Sneaking out of your house is much easier than you thought it'd be. You've never done it before, had almost expected the bottom half of your house to suddenly have some kind of security system with lasers and cameras, but nope. Nothing out of the ordinary.
You're wearing one of your old nightdresses, pink and frilly; you'd opted to start wearing them again the other day, liking the way they made you feel, accentuating your legs and breasts like your old Sunday school dress. You'd changed quickly every morning before going downstairs to save your parents from the heart attacks they'd have seeing you with so little skin coverage. But there's no need to change now, not with where you're going. You yank on a jacket and sneakers and carefully open and close the front door, scurrying out into the cool night air.
Joel's house isn't far, just a street over. You try not to run, as much as you want to; you know you'll end up all sweaty and messy haired - the opposite of how you'd like to portray yourself tonight, but your skin is practically glowing with anticipation. You hold the short hem of your nightdress down as you speed walk through the dark suburban streets of your neighborhood.
Your heart starts pounding when his house comes into view; the living room window is dimly lit. You jog up the front steps and take a deep breath before turning the handle, smiling to yourself when it opens easily; he'd really left the door unlocked for you.
"Mr. Miller?" you call in a hushed tone, shutting the door behind you and turning the lock.
He emerges from the living room and you feel your eyes widen. All he's wearing is a pair of loose fitting plaid pajama pants; nothing else. No shirt, no socks, and probably no underwear. You swallow, eyes trailing up and down the naked solidness of his chest, the greying hair smattered along the skin. He's got a softness to him, a bit of a pudgy belly that makes you want to smile, but his rugged sexiness is even more apparent. His strong pecs, freckled arms, the hair trailing down his stomach and into his pajama pants... it suddenly leaves you unable to breathe or form a coherent thought.
"There's my girl," he says, voice low and husky; he must have talked a lot today, called people's names, ordered them around, "C'mere."
Your brain is still muddled and awestruck as you feel yourself rush forward, arms immediately wrapping around his bare torso. His skin is softer than you'd thought it'd be, warm under your touch as you carefully press your cheek to his chest. You feel the scratch of hair against your skin, reminding you of his age; fifty six. The thought gives you an ache between your legs.
He holds you close and rubs your back, presses a kiss to the top of your head. Your eyes flutter closed at his touch, fingers splaying across the wide span of his back. You find yourself able to breathe again, but all you inhale is his scent, fresh and masculine. It's then that you realize his skin is slightly damp, peppered here and there with little droplets of water.
"I just got out of the shower," he says quietly, answering your unspoken question, "Was about to get in bed when you texted but I figured if you were comin' over I should clean myself up a bit."
You hum against his chest, still not sure exactly what to say. The ache between your legs is growing stronger the more you stand here in his embrace; somehow you hadn't expected to feel this way just from hugging him, although you probably should have guessed.
"I wanna get in your bed," you say softly, opening your eyes again and pulling back to look at him. His expression says it all, eyes going dark as they fall to your lips.
"Then let's get in my bed," he murmurs, just as quiet.
--
The last time you were in Joel's bedroom there'd been more of a sense of urgency, when he'd sat with you in his lap on the edge of his bed and held you open in front of the mirror. Now things are much slower, more quiet. You slip in behind him and unzip your jacket, taking it off and hanging it carefully on the hook behind his door.
"That's pretty," he says behind you, and you feel him reach out to gently touch the pink material, hand ghosting the bare skin of your chest. Your breath hitches and he smiles, "Tiny little thing, isn't it?"
"I've had it for a long time, I thought you might like it."
"I do," he pulls you toward him, then reaches his hands up to thumb the thin straps of the nightdress. You watch with hooded eyes as he slowly pushes them off your shoulders, "I'm gonna take it off though, that okay?"
Your brow furrows; he notices your reaction and his hands freeze, "Not okay?" he asks, confused slightly.
"N-no, it's okay," you say quickly, "I just... I'm still a little self conscious."
His eyes widen slightly and he shakes his head, "You have nothin' to be self conscious about, sweetheart," he reassures you, "I wanna see you..." he pushes the straps down your shoulders and you stand there trembling slightly as he pulls the dress down, exposing your breasts to him, "There you are."
You shiver a bit under his gaze, but not out of discomfort or fear. You feel safe with him; you know he'd never do anything you didn't consent to. You're just not exactly sure what you want, what exactly you've really come here for. Before you'd left the house you'd been so afraid that he was losing interest, already getting tired of you; now he stares at you like you're some kind of rare gem, making you feel bashful and beautiful under his gaze.
"I wanna touch you," you whisper, the shakiness of your voice betraying your nervousness - or anticipation.
His hands freeze for a few seconds but he regains composure quickly, tugging the dress down further until it's cascading down your legs, putting you completely on display. He swallows audibly, taking you in. You look at his face and feel yourself pulse under his gaze, the way he's staring directly at your bare pussy.
"Let's get in bed," he murmurs, "I think there's a few things we can touch."
His words send a buzzing warmth through your body and you cross your legs unconsciously, an action that makes him smirk. You turn away from him with heat flooding your cheeks as you climb into his bed; it's large and comfortable, but you already know neither of you will be taking advantage of the big space. You sit up against his headboard and pull the duvet up over yourself, hiding your breasts from view - as if he hasn't already seen them.
"I'll keep these on" he says softly, tugging at the band of his pajama pants, "Don't worry."
Your heart leaps to your throat and you nod quickly - probably too quickly. It's not that you're scared to see him naked; you've already seen both halves now and that's taken away a lot of the fear, but the concept of being in bed together, both naked... you're not sure you're ready yet. And you're glad he understands that without you having to say it out loud.
You watch as he climbs into bed and positions himself up against the headboard like you, scooches in next to you so your sides are touching. His skin against yours is unlike anything you've felt with him up until this point; he's so warm, a firm and large presence at your side that immediately has you feeling intimidated. Your nerves are already beginning to set alight just by having him so close. You open your mouth to speak but are unable to say anything when he inches even closer, his bare waist pressing firmly against yours.
"Hey, you're okay," he breathes, reaching up to gently thumb your cheek in a calming motion, brow furrowing slightly, "You don't gotta be nervous, sweetheart, it's only me."
"I'm not nervous," you whisper back, and while you're not exactly being honest there's certainly something else you're feeling, "I'm just..." you cross your legs again under the duvet, "I'm getting really wet."
He makes an odd sound in the back of his throat that makes you smile a little, cheeks burning under his gaze. He reaches over and slowly pushes the blankets down from your loose grip, exposing you to him once again. He moves his hand down, fingertips trailing along your bare chest until carefully bringing one of your breasts into his palm and squeezing gently.
"You don't gotta hide these from me, darlin'," he murmurs, thumb dragging across your nipple, sending tingles throughout your body, "They're too pretty to stay outta sight."
You shiver when he carefully tweaks your nipple between his fingers, his gaze firmly set on his movements. You watch together as he plays with it, toys with it, rolls it between thumb and forefinger. The warm and tight feeling sends an odd tingling sensation from your breast to your pussy, like they're connected somehow.
"I'm gonna put this in my mouth," he says softly, "Suck on it a little bit, that okay?"
You can't help but feel a bit unsure, biting your lip, "Is that... does it feel good to do that?"
He nods up at you, thumbing your nipple again slowly, "Feels really good, I promise. You got a lot of nerves here, just like your pussy. Really sensitive."
Your eyes are hazy as you nod to him slowly, "Th-that sounds nice."
At your words he leans his head down and brings your nipple into his mouth, dropping his fingers and replacing his thumb with the warm suction of his lips. You gasp out in surprise, hand coming up to immediately cup the back of his head.
You've never felt anything like this; the suction of his mouth is so new and strange, that tingling sensation returning as you cross your legs tighter and whimper aloud as he sucks your nipple. His tongue is wet and warm, tracing the shape of you in little circles, while his free hand comes up to squeeze your other breast, tweak it with his fingers. Your breath begins to come out raggedly, brow furrowing and legs tightening together as he suckles.
"Oh my god," you hear yourself whimper, hand tightening in his hair, "Why does that feel so good?"
He pulls off your nipple with a quiet laugh, peering up at you, "Yeah, you like the way that feels, babygirl?"
You nod quickly, swallowing and trying to get your breath back, "Yes," you whisper, "A lot."
He smiles at that, "Then how 'bout you lay back for me?"
It's an offer that's impossible to refuse. You quickly pull yourself down from the headboard and slip beneath the covers, head coming to rest on one of his pillows. He slips under as well, then very slowly positions himself on top of you, a leg on either side of your trembling form. You look up at him with wide eyes, unsure whether you're more nervous or excited.
"You're okay," he reassures you again, inching downward a bit and pressing a few gentle kisses to your neck, "Gotta be on top to do this right, so it feels good."
You nod slowly, "I c-can feel..."
"What?" he whispers, "What do you feel?"
Your arms are loose at your sides and Joel's are pinned above you, but there's an unmistakable feeling of something prodding into your thigh, large and thick.
"Your cock," you manage to whisper, voice trembling, "I think."
"That's right," he murmurs, "It's 'cause I'm gettin' hard from suckin' you like that, touchin' you," he trails his fingers down your sides gently, making you shiver, "You like feelin' it there?"
You feel yourself slowly nodding, eyes going even more hazy and hooded, "I wanna touch it."
"I know you do," he whispers, "I want you to touch it too, sweetheart. But I'm gonna play with you a little longer," he leans his face down and licks a small stripe against your other nipple, making your hips buck, "Then I'll teach you how to touch it, that alright?"
"Yes," you breathe, "Please."
"You like when I play with you, don't you?" he murmurs against your breast, then captures your other nipple in his mouth and starts to suck.
"Y-yes," you repeat, hand coming up again to tangle in his hair, already overwhelmed by the sensation, "I missed it."
He hums, sending another cascade of tingles throughout your body. To think that less than half an hour ago you were laying in bed wondering if he still wanted you; now you're naked and he's on top of you with his mouth on your breast. How is this your life?
"What did'ya miss?" he pulls off for barely a few seconds, scruff scratching perfectly against your sensitive skin, "Tell me, babygirl, wanna know what you've been thinkin' about."
You whimper when he goes back to suckling, your fingers threading through his greying curls. It's hard to get your thoughts straight when he's making you feel like this, every tight suck and wet lick going directly to your aching core.
"J-just missed you touching me," you breathe, voice rough and wanton with pleasure, "Missed your hands on me, your fingers..."
At your words he carefully brings one of his hands downward, caressing your body gently as he goes. Your breath hitches when he swipes his middle and index finger down your wet seam, urging you to open up for him. You uncross your trembling legs, looking down to watch as he continues to suck on your breast while his fingers dip down to your wetness.
"Inside," you whisper, finishing your thought but almost giving him a command at the same time; he doesn't hesitate, immediately pushing both fingers past your entrance and slipping them inside your throbbing hole, "Fuck," you whimper, closing your eyes and throwing your head back, "Like that."
You can feel the head of his cock through his pajama pants, pulsing against your thigh, leaving a sticky spot in the fabric. The fact that he's getting hard just by doing this to you, getting wet in his own way, it just turns you on even more.
He pulls off your breast with a wet pop and tilts his head up to look at you, pressing little kisses around your nipple and then pulling himself up a bit to hover over you. You feel his clothed cock prod your lower belly and you shiver again.
"Wanted to be full again, huh?" he murmurs, eyes dark, "Missed havin' these big fingers inside you?"
You nod and tug at his curls, urging him to lean his face down toward you. He takes the hint immediately, smirking a bit before reaching down to press his lips to yours and kiss you hungrily. You sigh into his mouth, contentment and arousal flooding through you as he slowly pushes his fingers in and out of you. Your hand moves from his hair to cup his jaw, loving the feeling of his beard beneath your fingers.
"Wanna know what I missed?" he asks against your lips, voice deep and breathy, "Missed this tiny little hole, so tight, all for me," at his words he curls the tips of his fingers inside of you, making you emit a loud whimper that makes him grin, "That's right, takin' my fingers so well, angel. Bet you could take three now," you feel another one of his fingers prod you alongside his others, "You want that, babygirl? Want three of those big fingers?"
You swallow nervously but slowly nod, tugging your bottom lip into your mouth, "Yes, Mr. Miller," you whimper, "Wanna be full."
"Good girl," he murmurs, brushing his nose lightly against yours, "You're such a good girl, aren't you?"
You hear the sounds you're making but you're not quite sure where they're coming from or how you're making them; you sound pathetic and breathless as he fucks you with his fingers, teases the third at your hole and leans down to kiss you again. His tongue slips past your lips and you feel the vibration of your own moans in his mouth when his thumb gently teases your clit.
"There you go, angel," he mutters against your lips as his third finger breaches your entrance, slowly pushes past the other two, "Thaaat's it, babygirl."
You tremble underneath him, feeling your body tense up at the new intrusion. You've had three of your own fingers inside yourself, but not three of his, long and thick and so much bigger than your own. You hear your whimpers turn into cries as his fingers fill you up, your own hands coming up to grip his back, nails digging into the skin.
"Shhh," he soothes, trailing more kisses along your face in an attempt to relax you, "You're okay, sweetheart, you're okay." And you are okay, being underneath him like this, being entirely at his mercy as he pushes your limits, helps you discover something new. It burns a bit, stretches and pulls and stings, but he talks you through it, whispers reassuring words in your ear, and you know you're safe.
He stills once all three fingers are deep inside, then pulls himself up a bit to look at you, pushing a stray hair behind your ear and peering down with a soft expression despite the depraved circumstances.
"How's that feel?" he whispers, voice gentle and soothing, "Tell me."
You're still making whimpering noises, shaky and quiet, but you're able to reply with the only word you can bring to the front of your mind: "Full."
He smiles down at you, brushes his nose against yours, "You did so good, angel," he murmurs, eyes not leaving yours, "I'm prouda you."
He knows what he's doing with that phrase; immediately you feel yourself loosen beneath him, hands going slightly limp against his back. He presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth and slowly begins to move his fingers again, pumping them in and out at an even pace.
It's amazing. It's so different than just two fingers, so much bigger and fuller - you've never felt anything like it; something so dirty but somehow passionate and warm. He kisses you as he fucks you with them, hovering over you with his hot skin emanating onto yours, wisps of hair from his chest and stomach tickling you everywhere. He thumbs your clit again and you moan loudly against his lips, your orgasm swelling in your belly as your hands tangle in his hair and pull him closer.
"You gonna come, angel?" he asks you softly, sweetly, pulling back a bit to stare deeply into your wide eyes, "Yeah, you're gonna come on those big fingers, huh? Can feel your pussy gettin' all tight around me, she wants it so bad doesn't she?"
You moan even louder as you frantically nod, "Yes, gonna come, gonna come," you cry out, overwhelmed by the thickness of his fingers and the way he's looking at you, the way he's talking to you; everything is just him.
"That's right, give it to me, sweet girl," he urges you, plunging into you faster and faster as his thumb rotates mercilessly against your clit, "Make a mess for me, soak those fingers, there you go."
You keen, high and borderline ridiculous as you stiffen beneath him and begin to shake, pitiful sounds escaping your mouth as you come. He fucks you through it, watching your face every step of the way and not stopping his movements until you've come down completely. You lay beneath him, chest heaving and eyes closing involuntarily as he strokes your thigh tenderly, reassuringly. He keeps his fingers lodged deep inside of you, not moving but simply keeping you full as you come down from your orgasm; you find yourself hoping he doesn't pull them out just yet.
"Can I show you somethin'?" he asks softly, and you open your eyes to find him still peering down at your face. You can't speak, can only nod as you bite down on your lip and try to catch your breath, your entire brain focused solely on the way his fingers feel inside you. As if he can read your mind, he's suddenly pulling them out and bringing them up to hover between the two of you.
Your brow furrows in confusion, suddenly feeling beyond empty as you pout up at him. He just chuckles to himself, still holding his three fingers - wet and glistening - in front of you while his other hand reaches down to the waistband of his pajama pants. Your eyes go wide, lips parting a bit as you look from his face to where his hand is and back again.
Without words from either of you, he slowly reaches inside and pulls out his cock, thick and dripping. You make a weird sound in the back of your throat, sitting up slightly as you peer at it with wonder. He's showed it to you before, it's nothing new, and yet...
"That's about the same width, wouldn't you say?" he asks you quietly, bringing his dripping fingers down to his hard cock and aligning them side by side; he's right - the thickness of all three of his fingers is relatively similar to the thickness of his cock. There's certainly different aspects - the length being the main difference - but the overall width is pretty spot on.
"Y-yeah," you say softly, eyes glued to it, "Pretty close."
You watch as he carefully drags his fingers along the thick length of his cock, still soaked with your release. He spreads your juices along it with his thumb and fingers, fists it gently and very slowly fucks his fist once. Your eyes are hooded and dark, saliva beginning to pool inside your mouth for reasons you can't even begin to understand.
"You just took three fingers," he continues, thumb tracing the base of his wide tip, "So wouldn't you say that answers a question you've been worryin' your pretty little head about?"
Your eyebrows scrunch together, trying to figure out what he means. It's hard to focus on absolutely anything else when his dick is right there in front of you, practically begging to be touched, the fat head pulsing and drooling under your gaze.
"Oh, this is gonna be a problem, isn't it?" he says, amused as he continues to slowly stroke himself, "Can't even think when there's a cock in front of you, huh?"
The words snap you back to reality, but only slightly. You smile sheepishly as you will yourself to look up at his face and away from his dick, "Wh-what question, Mr. Miller?"
He chuckles, "You were afraid it wouldn't fit inside you, babygirl," he reminds you gently, "But it will, we just proved that."
Your brain slowly makes sense of what he's saying and you can't help but feel a wave of relief wash over you; he's right. It had burned a bit, been uncomfortable for a moment or two, but ultimately you'd been able to take all three and enjoy it. You feel a smile spread across your face, and you notice his eyes soften slightly as he looks at you.
"You're right," you say breathlessly, smile still wide, "I did it, didn't I?"
His expression softens even more and he smiles back at you, laughing quietly to himself. He opens his mouth to say something but then seems to think better of it, pulling one of his legs back and moving to sit beside you on the bed instead of over you. Your brow furrows a bit in confusion.
"What is it?"
He just shakes his head, still smiling softly to himself, "Nothin', you're just... you're adorable."
Your cheeks warm at that, unable to help feeling a little self conscious. Now that you've come down from your orgasm you're suddenly hyperaware of your nakedness, of the fact that he can see every inch of your body. You draw the covers up around yourself quickly, hoping he won't mind.
"Such a shy little thing," he murmurs softly, but makes no move to pull the blankets down again like he had before, just watches you with a smile as your gaze slowly falls back to where he's hard and aching.
"Can I...?" you can't bring yourself to say the words, feeling flustered and nervous at the very thought. He just nods and reaches over to touch your hand, strokes your trembling fingers in his grip.
You watch as he carefully maneuvers your hand toward his crotch and slowly places your hand on his cock. Your fingers curl around his girth almost instinctively, imitating what you've seen him do before. Your lips part, breath hitching as your skin touches his most intimate area, a place on a man you never thought you'd ever be able to feel, at least not until you were married.
It's soft. Not in terms of arousal but just in texture, a silky and smooth feeling you hadn't been expecting. You stare down at your own hand in slight awe as your thumb gently strokes along his shaft, brow furrowing at how different it is than what you'd imagined. It's surprisingly just a body part, just an extension of Joel that usually remains hidden and secret; it's not as scary or intimidating when you can touch it like this, play with it like he plays with you.
"Wow," you say softly, barely aware of it as your fist ever so slowly moves along his length, pumps him just once in that hypnotic way he'd showed you; he's still covered in your own release, wet and slippery, but somehow you don't feel grossed out by it.
"You're a natural," he replies just as quietly, and your skin heats again when you look up to see his face, see the desire and pleasure in his expression, "Don't think there's much I need to teach you, to be honest. My parts are a lot simpler than yours."
You smile to yourself and pump him slowly again, this time brushing against the wet and throbbing tip. He makes a faint grunting sound that makes your eyebrows go up.
"This part..." you say quietly, thumbing the head ever so slightly and feeling your heart race when it pulses beneath you, "It feels different?"
"Yeah," he murmurs, biting down on his lip for a moment, "That part's sensitive, kinda like your clit."
You nod slowly, pushing your thumb up a bit and slowly rotating it along the sensitive area. He inhales sharply, grunts again when you prod the spongey head with both your thumb and index finger, teasing it like he'd done with your nipple.
"Fuck," he mutters softly, voice heavy and breathless, "That's it, angel, you got it."
His praise is like a warm blanket, shrouding you in safety and comfort as you slowly pump his cock again, teasing the head intermittently and trying not to smile too much every time he makes another one of those breathy grunting sounds. You feel pride swelling in your chest, the knowledge that you're actually making him feel good pushing you to continue on.
"What about these?" you ask softly, stilling your hand on his cock for a moment to gesture toward his balls, round and heavy beneath the base, "Does it....do they feel good when they get touched, too?"
"Yeah," he murmurs, voice dark and full of arousal, "They do."
"Can I touch them?"
The sound that emits from his throat sounds almost like a growl, low and husky, "Yes," he groans, "Go ahead and touch 'em, sweetheart."
The tone of his voice is slightly desperate, bordering on depraved. Your eyes travel back up to his face and his jaw is slack, eyes hooded as he watches you touch him. You've never seen him like this, almost completely wrecked by something you did.
"Gotta be real gentle," he continues, taking a breath through his nostrils and reaching down to pull his pajama pants down a bit more for easier access, "They're sensitive too."
You resume your slow pumping of his cock with one hand while your other reaches down to lightly trail the tips of your fingers along the shape of his balls, round and tender. You cup them gently, teasing them one by one in your palm. He hisses in pleasure, eyes shutting tightly as he leans back a bit against the headboard.
"Feel good?" you whisper, trying your best to fall into the role Joel usually takes on, the role of the person giving the pleasure.
"Yes, baby," he groans, pressing the backs of his hands against his shut eyes, "Yes, feels so good, sweetheart."
Your pumping gets a bit faster, a bit wetter as precum continues to drool from the tip and down his shaft. It's unbelievable that you're really sitting here in a man's bed, a man about thirty years older than you, pumping his cock and making him come apart like this. You can feel yourself throbbing beneath the blankets, getting wet all over again at the reality of the situation, and when your movements cause the blankets to fall from your chest and expose your breasts again, you don't bother trying to cover up.
Joel groans at the sight, reaching over to tweak one of your nipples between his fingers, making you whimper, "You know what happens when a man comes?" he asks you suddenly, brow furrowing in pleasure, "You learn about that in school?"
You nod quickly, feeling sweat trickle down your face as you continue to stroke him up and down, "Yes," you whisper, "I know what happens."
He groans again, swallowing thickly and taking a deep breath as he begins to palm your breasts, "I'm about to come, darlin'. There's gonna be a lot, need to know where to aim it."
You bite down on your lip, trying to keep all your focus on making him feel good and not on the hands now squeezing your breasts, teasing your nipples. "Wh-where do you want it to go?" But you already know the answer.
"Here," he grunts, thumbing your hard nipples, "These. Wanna come all over these pretty tits, sweetheart, will you let me?"
You nod, "Y-yes, Mr. Miller."
It's everything he needs to suddenly pull himself up from the bed and pull your hands off him, gesturing for you to lie back against his pillows. Your heart races in anticipation, eyes going wide and lips parting again as he leans over you and starts to jack his cock, fast and unrelenting. This is what he'd done the other night, when you'd talked on the phone; you'd tried to imagine what he'd looked like, making his own mess... now you're about to find out.
"Stay just like that, babygirl, just like that," he grunts out, pumping himself over and over as he aims the tip toward your bare breasts, swollen from all the attention he's given them tonight. His expression is tense and so is his body, soft stomach suddenly taut with pressure, chest heaving as he works his hand. He looks almost pained, brows scrunched together as he pulls himself over the edge.
"Come," you find yourself saying quietly, a shaky whimper playing at the edge of your voice, "Come for me."
Within seconds of your words your skin is hit with long ropes of a warm, white liquid, splattering across your breasts in uneven patterns. You watch with hooded eyes as Joel slows his strokes, groans louder than he has all night as his release spurts continuously from the head of his cock, painting you all over. His tense expression eases into one of pure bliss as he tosses his head back again, moaning up at the ceiling.
Wow.
Without asking for permission, without even questioning whether it's proper sex etiquette to do so, you find your hand travelling quickly downward to your wet pussy. You frantically begin to rub your clit, still gazing up at Joel's pleasured form, feeling his come slipping down the sides of your breasts onto the sheets below. You throb and pulse beneath your fingers, whining softly to yourself as your body readies itself for your second orgasm.
Joel looks down at you then, cock still in hand, slowly beginning to soften. He sees what you're doing immediately, and the devilish smirk that crosses his face is enough to send you over the edge.
"Fuuuuck," you moan out as you come, trembling in the sheets and curling your toes in pleasure, "Mmmm," you squirm and writhe beneath his gaze until it's over, then lay still and loose on the bed with barely any thoughts floating through your mind.
The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, both of you coming down from your orgasms and trying to collect yourselves. You can't help but look down at your chest, see the thick patches of come splattered all over your breasts, your nipples. How all of that could come from one person is wild to you; this certainly hadn't been taught in any of your health classes.
The memory of being so naïve, so innocent... it makes you grin. Because you couldn't be further from that person anymore, the one who did everything that was asked of her, never listened to her own heart, stayed on the sidelines and focused on math and extracurriculars and God while other people had these experiences. And now here you are - actually having them.
"I guess I'm not a good little Christian girl anymore," you find yourself saying with a shaky giggle; you suddenly feel reinvigorated, sexually liberated... free.
Joel laughs at that, breathless and genuine. He grins down at you, releases his cock and shuffles downward to lay beside you, "You're my good little Christian girl," he says softly, bringing a hand up to cradle your face, "You did so good."
"Did I?" you ask sincerely, "Be honest, I wanna know."
He just smiles and thumbs your cheek, eyes going crinkly, "You were perfect, babygirl, I swear." He leans forward and kisses you gently, sweetly, like you both didn't just do something completely filthy and depraved - but you're starting to realize that maybe it's normal to do things like this, not as taboo and sinful as you'd always thought.
When you part, you're suddenly painfully aware of the state of the bed, not to mention both of your bodies. You're both covered in a sheen of sweat, you've got come dripping down your skin, and both fluids are already beginning to stain the bedsheets. You make a face.
"Can we...can we change the sheets? And can I maybe take a shower?"
Joel chuckles at that, stroking your cheek one last time before pulling back to extricate himself from the bed, "I'll change 'em, sweetheart. You go get in the shower, it's right across the hall."
You slip out of bed on shaky legs, losing your balance a bit and having to grab on to Joel's bed side table for support. You both laugh, and you find comfort in the casual intimacy of it all - both of you standing there naked without any shame or embarrassment. It's strange and new but so refreshing, that familiar safe feeling warming your skin as you make your way to the bathroom. You pick up your discarded nightdress as you go.
You stare at yourself in Joel's bathroom mirror for a bit longer than necessary, eyes wide as they trail up and down your bare form. Splotches cover different parts of your skin, especially your breasts, nipples swollen and dark, not to mention covered in come. You feel an ache between your legs again at the sight and almost roll your eyes at yourself - when will you stop being this insatiable?
Unable to push down the urge to do so, you carefully drag one of your fingers through the layer of white splattered across your chest, fascinated by its sticky texture. He'd marked you, in more ways than one.
The shower is pleasant and relatively quick; you want to get back in Joel's arms as soon as possible. You try not to think too much about the implication of that desire, the safety you feel when you're with him versus the anxiety you feel when you're not and what exactly that means. You try to remind yourself of your roommates and their experiences, their ability to sleep around without catching feelings or getting attached. How do they do it? How do they do it when being close to another person like this is so intimate and special?
You change back into the nightdress after your shower and slip back into Joel's room, finding him laying in the freshly made bed beneath a new duvet. For a moment you think he might be sleeping, quietly shutting the door behind you and tiptoeing over to the bed. However when you get close enough he opens his eyes and looks at you, a sleepy smile spreading across his face.
"Hey there," he murmurs, reaching down to pull back the blankets on the other side - your side, "Get on in."
Your heart pounds harder than it probably should.
Climbing into bed beside Joel feels surprisingly normal, easy. You wriggle underneath the duvet and cuddle in beside him, immediately wrapping an arm around his solid form and nuzzling your head against his shoulder. He's wearing his pajama pants again but his torso is still bare, the hair on his chest tickling your skin. You feel him press a soft kiss to your hairline and you can't help but smile.
"I'm glad I came over," you whisper with a content sigh, "I was... I was starting to worry you didn't want me."
"Really?" he asks softly, brow furrowing, "Why's that?"
You shake your head and nuzzle in deeper, "Just me being self conscious and insecure, as usual."
His hand comes up to rub your back soothingly, circling it with his palm through your thin nightdress. He pulls you in a bit closer, kisses your forehead again with a bit more firmness.
"It's normal to feel that way," he murmurs against your skin, "But I do want you, babygirl. You're all I think about lately, I mean that." You shiver at his words, closing your eyes and willing yourself to believe that he really does mean them like he says. "Most beautiful little thing I've had in my bed for a long time."
You press a gentle kiss to his collarbone in response, nose trailing along the skin. He didn't shower but you're sort of glad he didn't; he still smells like sex, a deep masculine musk that you can only attribute to him now, a scent that makes you feel safe.
"I just feel bad...making us sneak around and all that," you admit, "I know it's childish and silly, but I'm so scared of disappointing my parents. I shouldn't be but I am."
"You're young," he says softly, tenderly, "That kinda stuff still matters, especially when you're livin' with them. I get it, honey. You don't have to defend yourself."
You grimace against his skin, "I just wish this could be more normal. That you could just be a guy I'm seeing instead of my guitar teacher," you shake your head, "It's not fair."
He pulls you in even closer with a soft chuckle, "Well, if it's any consolation, I'm lookin' forward to teachin' you how to play."
You make a face, "Hymns," you say with a roll of your eyes, "You're teaching me how to play hymns. I don't see anything exciting or sexy about that."
"We'll make it sexy," he murmurs, inching his face downward so it's more level with yours, eyes casting down to your lips, "Thought you were my good little Christian girl."
All thoughts suddenly seem arbitrary when he's looking at you like that, your gaze immediately going hazy as he leans in and kisses you deep, pushes his tongue inside your mouth softly and tastes you. You hum against his mouth as a response, thighs tightening together as if on instinct the second you feel yourself begin to throb again.
"Are you?" he asks huskily when he pulls away, eyes dark but tired, "Are you my good little Christian girl, baby?"
You nod, swallowing down your arousal, "Yes, Mr. Miller."
"You gonna let me touch you while I teach you guitar?"
You nod again, biting back a whimper, "Yes, Mr. Miller."
His eyes dart back down to your lips, hand on your back traveling downward to cup your bare ass beneath the nightdress, "You gonna let me fuck that soft little pussy while you play one of your hymns?"
"Yes, Mr. Miller," you repeat, leaning forward to bury your face in his warm skin and inhale him again, moan softly against the hair on his chest, "Yes."
He squeezes your ass for a moment and then brings his hand back up, pulls you to him and wraps his arms around you tightly, "See, babygirl?" he whispers, "Told you we'll make it sexy."
--
Joel's alarm wakes you around six, rousing you from one of the best sleeps of your life. You open your eyes groggily, feeling him lean over you in bed to turn it off, warm chest brushing your arm. You roll over in bed and cuddle into him again, humming sleepily to yourself when he pulls you in close.
"I gotta get ready for work," he murmurs gently into your hair, "Go back to sleep, I'll wake you when it's time to go."
You frown sleepily but don't have the energy to protest, eyes closing again as you melt back into his pillow. You feel him release you from his embrace and press a kiss to your forehead, a simple reminder that this isn't some dream you're having, it's somehow reality. You smile and fall asleep again within seconds.
--
He wakes you up again after about half an hour, seats himself on the edge of his bed and strokes your hair. You peer up at him with a sleepy and satisfied expression, unable to stop the words that fall immediately from your lips:
"Kiss me."
He doesn't need convincing, still thumbing your hair behind your ear as he leans down and kisses you softly, bumps your nose against his and lets your tongue lazily explore his mouth, tasting mouthwash. You sigh contentedly, pulling back to smile at him while he strokes your cheek.
"Sleep good?" he asks you softly.
You nod, remembering the closeness the two of you had shared all night, the soft hugs and tender cuddles, the quiet intimacy you've never experienced with anyone else. "Amazing," you whisper.
He kisses you again before you get out of bed, then takes your hand as he leads you downstairs. You grab your jacket on the way out of his bedroom, still hanging on the back of his door. You look down at yourself as you both reach the top of the stairs, realizing there's no way you'll be able to walk home in an outfit like this without certainly being accosted by a nosy neighbor.
You push down your worry when you reach the kitchen, unable to stop the grin from spreading across your face when you see that the kitchen table is set with breakfast; scrambled eggs and bacon.
"You made me breakfast?" you ask in awe, looking from the food to Joel and back again.
He laughs, walking over to the coffee pot and pouring himself a cup, "I did," he says with a smile, "And as much as I'd love for us to just sit and enjoy it," he looks down at his watch with a grimace as he takes a sip of coffee, "we have about ten minutes before I gotta drive you home and then get to work."
You sit down at the table, picking up your fork and immediately digging into the eggs, "You're gonna drive me home?"
He seats himself across from you, watching you enjoy what he'd cooked with a fond smile, "Can't have you walkin' home in that tiny little thing, can I?" he says teasingly, "Your parents would wring my neck."
You groan, "Oh god, please don't even joke about that. If they knew..."
He just chuckles and starts to eat, looking up every now and then to give you one of those crinkly-eyed crooked smiles that makes you weak. You smile through mouthfuls of food and feel your skin alight every time you feel his gaze on you.
"I don't usually eat this fast, I promise," you say through a mouthful of bacon, covering your mouth, "It's only 'cause we're on a time crunch."
He shakes his head, still smiling, "You're so damn cute."
You try your hardest not to reach across the table and pull him toward you for a kiss.
--
The drive from his house to yours is extremely short, no less than two minutes. Still, you enjoy the short time you spend in his truck, his big hand spread out on your bare thigh while he hums along to a tune on the radio and gives you soft little sideways glances that makes your heart flutter. You can't help but feel like someone else when you're with him, someone more carefree and outgoing, happier and more experienced. It's only when you slowly near your house that you realize maybe this person is who you really are.
"Stop here," you tell Joel with a grimace, still a few houses away, "My parents are still home."
"How're you gonna get in?" he asks with an edge of concern to his voice, eyeing your house, "Think you can climb the fence?"
You bite your lip, "Probably. I've never done it before but I don't have much choice," you lean your head against the backrest in irritation, "God, why did I choose now to rebel? I coulda learned how to do all this shit when I was a kid if I hadn't been so obsessed with being perfect."
He gives you a sympathetic look, thumb stroking your thigh reassuringly, "I'll stay right here 'til you're inside."
You yearn to lean over the small space between you and kiss him, but you know there's always a risk of a neighbor coming out of their house and seeing you. Instead, you place your hand atop the one on your thigh and squeeze his fingers gently, giving him a small smile.
"I had a really nice night," you say quietly, unsure how exactly this kind of thing is done, "And morning."
"So did I, sweetheart," he replies, voice tender, "We'll do it again, promise."
With one final squeeze of his hand you slip out of his truck, tying your jacket around your waist to cover up your legs a bit. It leaves your upper half more exposed than you'd like, your eyes going wide when you realize how much cleavage this nightdress really shows.
"Here," Joel says, understanding your reaction immediately, "Wear this on top." Without giving you any time to protest he's unbuckling himself to undo his plaid button down, shirking it off his shoulders and handing it to you. It leaves him in a t-shirt and jeans, your eyes trailing to his strong arms without meaning to, the arms that had held you close all night.
"Thank you," you murmur, brow furrowing a bit, "You're sure?"
He smiles crookedly and buckles up again, "I'm sure, angel. You keep that."
Your heart flutters as you wrap his shirt around you, slipping your arms into the much too long sleeves and inhaling the scent of him - your new favorite smell - surrounding you. You're never getting rid of this. Ever.
With a wave you hurry down the sidewalk, feeling slightly ridiculous in your layered and baggy outfit but relieved that you're covered up. You eye the tall white fence of your backyard, trying to formulate a plan in your head as you go. Hop the fence, get a ladder from the tool shed and climb up to your bedroom? But did you even leave your window open? You can't help but feel rage in your chest for your parents rules, the curfew, all the nonsense you've been living with for your entire life. Why the fuck don't you have a fucking key to your own fucking house?
You can feel Joel's eyes on you when you reach the fence, still sitting in his truck a few houses down.
Please, God, you think to yourself as you slip one of your sneakers in between the fence posts and yank yourself up, I know I've sinned. I know I'm a mess. And I'm not even sure I really believe in you anymore. But please, if you're there, don't let me make a fool of myself in front of Joel Miller.
Surprisingly, your prayer seems to work. Climbing up the fence is relatively easy; you keep an eye out for your neighbors as you quickly pull yourself over and flop down on the other side, extremely grateful that neither your jacket nor Joel's shirt gets caught on anything. You hurry to the tool shed, eyeing your bedroom window as you go and feeling beyond relieved when you see that it's wide open; God bless Texan summers.
You decide to wait inside the tool shed until your parents are gone, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself with the ladder. You close the door behind you and sink to the concrete floor, heart pounding in your chest as the reality of what you've just done overwhelms you.
You snuck out to see a man. You slept in his bed. He drove you home so you could sneak back in.
Quiet laughter fills the tool shed, all coming from your own mouth. You grin to yourself and shake your head in the darkness, leaning back against the door and closing your eyes. Who are you? Who is this new person you've become? You don't know, but you love her.
You find yourself pulling your phone out of your jacket pocket and typing out a new message, but this time it's not to Joel - it's to your friends from college:
i think i'm officially a bad girl.
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vonlycsnn · 3 months ago
Note
Hello! May I request a Von lycaon x Gn Reader who is blind but has a optimistic personality? One who uses to love the simple things in life like feeling the sun, taking walks and enjoying any meals
Thank you so much! ♡
Have a nice day •u<~☆
♡ — A RAY OF SUNSHINE
~ VON LYCAON X BLIND (GN) READER.
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SUMMARY: You spend your usual morning with your lover, Lycaon. He can't help but appreciate how optimistic you are despite your disability.
cw/tw: none.
A/N: I love this idea so much! I tried to do as much research as i possibly could for this, so my sincere apologies if i got anything wrong. Thank you for the kind words and for the request, I hope you enjoy reading this!
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Faint footsteps can be heard approaching your bedroom. Soon after, the door gently opened. It made a quiet but noticeable squeak. But you were too deep in your sleep to hear any of it. The footsteps walked across the room and stopped.
 
Clawed hands grabbed the curtains and drew them open, revealing the morning view outside. You were suddenly hit by the sensation of warmth on your bare skin. You whined in protest. Knowing exactly what that meant.
 
You opened your eyes to see the blurry environment around you, folding the pillow you were laying on as a way to tell your beloved butler that you didn't want to get up just yet.
 
You hear a chuckle from your left ear, the bed sheets folded as you felt someone sitting on the edge of the bed. Then you felt someone breathing close to your neck; you couldn't help but giggle at how it feels.
 
"It's time to wake up, dear." Lycaon whispered.
 
You adjusted your position to face him, trying your best find his face with your hands. He chuckled once more and guided your hands to his fluffy cheeks. Immediately after you moved your fingers to feel his fur, he smiled.
 
"Mm...enjoying yourself?" The thiren asked. You merely nodded as you were still too sleepy to say anything just yet. You felt something brush against your legs, assuming that it's Lycaon's tail wagging.
 
You kept running your fingers against his fur for what seemed like minutes until you felt arms behind your back, lifting you up from your land of peace. "Lycaon nooo..." You lazily protested.
 
"Come on now. I've made you breakfast, fresh and warm for you to enjoy." He explains as he approaches the dining room.
 
The dining table was neatly organized, and the floors were spotless—a perfect start to your day. Oh, if only you could appreciate the effort he has put into cleaning this area...
 
He carefully put you down and guided you to your seat. As soon as you sat down, you smelt a delicious scent in front of you. You couldn't help but smile big when you realized what it was.
 
"I've made your favorite; french toast with a few slices of bacon."
 
You heard utensils being grabbed by the thiren; a hand gently moved your head in his direction. All you could see was a blurry white figure in front of you, but nevertheless you smiled softly.
 
"Open your mouth, love."
 
You obliged, happily receiving the food he's feeding you. Once you tasted the sweetness of the French toast and the salty bacon, you felt like you were sent to heaven. Lycaon's cooking is always so good.
 
As he was feeding you, he begins to reminisce about the past. Back when the two of you were merely friends.
 
 
"Master, you mustn't walk too far."
 
You heard him warning you; all you gave him was a smile and a giggle. One step...two step...You walked forward. Shoes removed to feel the concrete floor beneath your foot, and the cold air touched your face gently...It was soothing.
 
"Don't worry, Lycaon. I'm just going to stay right here." You assured him. His mouth opened, clearly wanting to say something, but he didn't. He merely stood there, waiting for you to finish your moment.
 
"The rooftop of this building...it's my favorite. Open spaces like these in general are a delight to be in."
 
You closed your eyes, strengthening your other senses. Being blind is not easy by any means. You remember the day you cried your eyes out as a child over the fact that you couldn't recognize simple shapes and figures. 
 
Your parents did everything in their power to help you; of course you were grateful for their efforts. But they knew that someday they couldn't help you anymore; that's why they hired the best servant they know: Von Lycaon from Victoria Housekeeping Co.
 
Someone who could help you with everyday needs, someone who could keep you safe from the dangers of the outside world—you were truly thankful for all he has done.
 
Despite your early disappointments and everyday struggles, you learned to accept how you are and enjoy your life with the things you already had. You were born with this condition. You couldn't change anything, and that's okay, even if you wanted to enjoy life like the rest of the world.
 
The thiren stayed silent, admiring you from afar. You were always the cheerful type, but hearing you say such optimistic words despite the disability you were given with...it was inspiring.
 
Lycaon smiled, and he walked towards you. You felt a hand on your shoulder.
 
"Then I'll bring you here more frequently if you'd like." Lycaon suggested.
 
You smiled big, nodding vigorously.
You couldn't be happier.
259 notes · View notes
duachai · 3 months ago
Text
G8MER BOI - JEON WONWOO
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Super Smash Bros You So Ass Though Proly Pick Kirby So You Don't Get Smashed On
PAIRING : JEON WONWOO X MALE READER
SYNOPSIS : M/n, a competitive gamer, is distracted by fellow gamer Wonwoo's charisma and flirtatious advances during a match. After the game, Wonwoo's commanding demeanor leaves M/n flustered and vulnerable. They share an intense, intimate encounter backstage, leading M/n to experience a whirlwind of emotions. Overwhelmed by Wonwoo's touch and words, M/n feels a deep connection forming, hinting at a promising new chapter in his life.
CONTENT WARNING : This writing contains explicit sexual content and mature themes.
AUTHOR'S NOTE : I know nothing about E-sports, but I tried my best 😭
LINKS : Wattpad | Kofi
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M/n had never been so nervous going ANYWHERE before today. This was the day he could make history and he carried an insane amount of weight on his shoulders as he walked through those arena doors. Even in a room full of people he still found himself zoned out and very unfocused while doing a fan sign.
He felt someone staring at him, his eyes slowly looking up from the table. A pair of eyes were staring at him, unbreaking eye contact. It sent chills down his spine. He was always a bit reserved during these events and always kept his head down so as to not engage with many people. He didn't like a lot of interaction anyway so this set-up worked for him fairly well.
Except with this particular person.
He knew this guy. This guy... he was a legend. But not one of those old crinkly ones that don't really do their fortay anymore.
He was Jeon Wonwoo.
He slowly lifted his sharpie off the desk, eyes still locked with the other male. He was just so intense. It's like he's trying to burn a hole into my brain. He thought. He tried to ignore the way his stomach churned beneath his button-up and continued signing the girl’s team T-shirt in front of him. She could sense M/n's attention was not on her at all.
M/n quickly tore his gaze from the other person and plastered on a smile for the girl in front of him. Come ON, stop staring! Just mind your own damn business! He cursed in his head, trying to focus back on the girl.
The girl in front of him tried to talk to him to which he desperately tried to answer, eyes darting to the side every so often only to see the man still staring at him. "Are you okay?", the girl asked, waving her hand in front of his face "You seem distracted."
"O-Oh, yeah. I'm sorry... um thank you for supporting us! I hope to see you in the arena later today.”
She nodded and moved away, making room for the next person. M/n took a small breather, closing his eyes for a moment. Ok M/n, pull yourself together. Just focus, do your job and then you can g- He glances up only to see Wonwoo sitting down in the seat in front of him. Ah, you've got to be kidding me...
The male in front of him sat back casually, resting his t-shirt right on the desk in front of him. M/n felt his heart speed up a bit. He glanced down quickly then back up to see Wonwoo grinning at him like he knew exactly what he was thinking.
It almost looked like he was teasing M/n and it ticked him off a bit. He was here to do his job and this guy was distracting him. "I guess it's my turn," Wonwoo spoke, his voice so sweet it almost made M/n shiver.
"U-Um, you don't need to get in line... you're like VIP."
The male laughed heartily. "VIP huh? I like the sound of that"
Jesus, he's even got a beautiful laugh M/n thought, trying to shake the idea away.
Wonwoo said generously, "But I'm no different than the other teams here. I just am a fan... I want a signed shirt from my favorite junior team.”
M/n let out a short laugh, trying to be casual about the whole thing. "Yeah right, like you can call yourself any team's fan when you're the main part of your team's success," he says. It came out a bit harsher than he intended but the confidence the man had was starting to irk him. "You're a legend, Jeon Wonwoo."
Wonwoo smirked and leaned in a little closer. "Say my name again" he says. M/n stared at him, dumbfounded. Say it again? Why the hell does he want me to say his name? What is his angle..
He swallowed down the lump in his throat and took a breath. "Wonwoo.." he said slowly.
The tension was cut by an intercom coming on. "Please everyone please gather in the area for the SVT and Fifty-Forty’s team matches.” M/n's head snapped up to the speaker above his head when the announcement went off. An overwhelming sense of relief washed over him. Finally, now i'm out of this awkward position.
He looked back to Wonwoo only to find him still staring, that smug smile still plastered on his lips. He tried to glare at the man which only made him smile more. He felt his face get hot again. Damnit, why am I letting him get to me?
Wonwoo leaned even further forward and M/n could feel his breath on his cheek. He was so close M/n could count the individual eyelashes framing the other man's eyes. Damnit, Why is his face so close? What is he doing… Wonwoo spoke up, his voice low and sultry in his ear "Are you gonna sign me that shirt now?"
With a trembling hand M/n picked up his marker and signed the shirt. He tried to keep the letters straight but his hand was shaking like crazy and he felt like sweating buckets. How was this man making him so nervous? Why could he feel his heart pounding in his chest like this? It was insane...
He finished the signature and was about to set the shirt down when Wonwoo took hold of his wrist, stopping him from moving. M/n's heart nearly stopped. Wonwoo's hand was on his wrist, not to mention it was so large as well. His fingers were wrapping all the way around him, his long slender fingers completely covering his wrist.
He swallowed a lump that formed in his throat and made the mistake of looking up into Wonwoo's eyes. His eyes met the other man's intense stare and he couldn't look away. He felt like he might pass out if he did.
His mind was going a mile a minute, there was so much going on. Their faces were mere centimeters from each other and M/n felt like he would have a heart attack right there, and on top of all of that, he had never felt more... excited? for something in his entire life.
M/n swore he felt the thump of his heart skip a beat. "You're a lot cuter than I thought you'd be.." he said quietly. M/n's eyes widened and before he could reply the intercom came back on, cutting off whatever he was about to say.
"All teams to the main stage please, the match is beginning in a few minutes.”
Wonwoo's hand finally left his wrist and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He felt lightheaded like he might pass out at that very moment.
The man leaned back in his seat, picking up his signed shirt and smiling. "See you after the match," he said before he stood and headed for the stage. M/n could only watch as the man left, a thousand thoughts running through his mind. What was just happening? He thought I was cute? Why was he being so upfront? Why did he make me so nervous?
He needed to get himself together and quickly. There was a match about to happen and he needed to be focused. He looked over to the crowd and saw all the fans waiting. As much as he wanted to go back and hide in his room, he couldn't. Just do your best, and after you can freak out.
He took a deep breath and got up to join the rest of his teammates on the stage. The game began and M/n tried to focus on playing, which he usually had no problems doing. Except this time, he couldn't seem to find and kind of concentration.
Every time he would start to get into the game, his mind flashed back to Wonwoo's eyes. His words, his grip on his wrist, the way he made his heart stop...
He was so distracted, he was even making mistakes in-game, which was completely unlike him. Usually he was so precise and careful with his playing but today it was like he was just going through the motions. He was doing everything on auto-pilot.
Wonwoo was amazing. His hair, his perfect form, his talent, his lips, all of this just drove M/n absolutely insane. The game wasn't even on his mind. All he could think about was how he just had to have Jeon Wonwoo.
The game was over as quickly as it had begun. Wonwoo's team had crushed his, leaving him and his teammates with no chance to even compete. As the two teams made their way off the stage and into the hall, M/n felt a hand on his shoulder.
He felt that intense sense of nervousness fill him again as he slowly turned to come face to face with Wonwoo. M/n's heart nearly stopped when they stood face to face again. Every single thought he had from earlier came rushing back to him all at once, leaving him feeling vulnerable.
Wonwoo smirked down at him which made him feel even more flustered. Why did he keep doing that?!
"You guys put up a good fight, I'll give you that," he said, his hand still on M/n's shoulder.
M/n couldn't find a single word to say, he just stood there like a complete idiot as his brain malfunctioned. He didn't know what to say or do, he just stared at the man with his mouth slightly open.
Wonwoo chuckled lowly, which caused the hairs on the back of M/n's neck to stand up. Damnit, why is his laugh so attractive? Is he trying to drive me insane?
"Cat got your tongue?" he asked, lifting a hand and running his thumb over M/n's bottom lip. M/n suddenly forgot how to breath. His hands started to shake and he swallowed down a lump in his throat. What does he think he's doing? Just.. touching my face like that. It's making me so.. His thoughts were cut off when Wonwoo began to speak again.
"You're cute when you're nervous, you know that? You get a little red too," Wonwoo said cooing as he swiped a slither of hair that fell on M/n’s forehead.
Jesus Christ, he's so handsome..
M/n tried and failed to keep control of his composure. Why does this man make me so nervous? I can't even form complete thoughts with him staring right at me.
He finally gathered the strength to speak, his voice quiet and shaky. "I'm... not nervous.."
Wonwoo laughed again with his perfect teeth showing. "You're not? You're shaking like a leaf right now." he said with a smirk. His hand came up again, this time cupping M/n's cheek in his warm palm. M/n felt his legs begin to get weak.
"You're a terrible liar, you know that?" he chuckles again before leaning down so his mouth was right next to M/n's ear.
M/n could feel his heart pounding against his chest as the other man's breath tickled his ear. "I can probably make you even more nervous,” he said, his low voice dripping with confidence.
M/n's mind seemed to be a complete jumble at this point. His thoughts were a complete mess and he felt like he might explode. The proximity of the other male's body was almost overwhelming, especially since he was so much taller than M/n himself.
He swore it felt like he was in a trance of some kind when Wonwoo spoke again, his breath warm on his ear. Wonwoo's warm hand shifted from his cheek to the nape of his neck, resting there and making shivers run up M/n's spine.
"You know.." he began, his tone was like silk. ".. I thought you were cute from just watching you play, but now I think you're even more adorable up close.”
M/n chuckled nervously, "U-Um... I should really catch up with my team. They're probably heading to the hotel... y'know. Tired and stuff.
Wonwoo's hand on his neck seemed to tighten a bit, keeping M/n from moving away. "Your team is going to be fine without you for a few minutes," he said, his tone a bit more demanding now.
M/n's breath hitched in his throat as the other man's grip pulled him a little closer. "O-Oh... kay, okay..."
M/n's head was spinning, the man was way too attractive for his own good.
Suddenly, Wonwoo's hand slid from his neck to his jaw, his long slender fingers wrapping around his chin and turning his head to the side. M/n didn't resist, he let him move him, his mind foggy from the closeness.
"You have really pretty eyes" he said lowly in his ear, his thumb brushing across M/n's bottom lip again.
M/n felt his heart flip and his breath shuddered again. He was trying so hard to keep what little composure he had left, but the other man was making it damn near impossible. His touch was driving him insane and he found himself unable to speak, his mind completely blank.
"They're brown... not very unique. Um, how about we move to another area... it's kinda hot h-here. Yeah?" M/n says in a slight pant. Wonwoo chuckled softly and leaned back slightly so he was hovering over M/n's face.
"Oh my god, you are so adorable when you're nervous," he said, his eyes raking up and down M/n's body as he spoke. M/n's stomach flipped at the look in the other man's eyes, Jesus, that stare is going to be the death of me he thought. "I have an idea," Wonwoo said as he grabbed M/n's wrist, his large hand wrapping all the way around him again.
A shiver ran down M/n's spine at the feeling.
With one quick move, he found himself being led down one of the backstage hallways into a secluded backroom. As soon as the door closed behind them, Wonwoo turned and pushed M/n up against the door, trapping him between his body and the hard surface.
M/n felt like he was going to have a heart attack. His heartbeat was so loud he swore Wonwoo could probably hear it. Wonwoo placed a hand on the wall on either side of M/n's head, effectively trapping him against the door.
He was so close M/n could feel the other man's breath on his face, it was warm and smelled faintly of cinnamon. Wonwoo was just staring again. Those brown eyes staring directly into his own, leaving him frozen in his spot.
His mind was swirling, his body was hot, why was this man having this effect on him? The other man smirked down at him, a wicked smile that made M/n's body shiver again. "You're so innocent, you know that?" he says, his eyes raking up and down M/n's body again.
This new side of Wonwoo was turning M/n on in ways he never thought possible. The intense gaze, the smirk, and the commanding tone, it was making his legs feel like jelly.
"M-Maybe I should get back to the group... I-" Wonwoo's hand on the wall moved to M/n's hip, resting there and grabbing it firmly through the material of his shirt. M/n felt a jolt of pleasure run through him. Jesus... that hand, it's so big
"I don’t want you to leave, sweetheart," he stated, his tone commanding. M/n was speechless. The nickname made his heart skip a beat and the hand on his hip made his legs even weaker. He was having a very hard time breathing at this point.
"O-Okay."
Wonwoo chuckled, the sound sending another shiver through M/n. "You're so easy to tease," he says as he leans closer to M/n.
His hand was still tight on his hip, his grip almost possessively tight. "Tease?" M/n asked almost in a whine. Another sultry chuckle escaped Wonwoo's lips as he leaned in even closer, his mouth now right next to M/n's ear.
"You heard me," he said, his warm breath sending more chills down M/n's spine. M/n's mind was a mess and his body a wreck, all from a simple hand on his hip. M/n began to lose his balance. Trying not to fall, his arms wrapped around Wonwoo's waist instinctively.
Wonwoo chuckled again, the sound so deep and smooth, it left M/n's mind feeling blank once more.
"You're a little clumsy, hm?" he asked, his tone almost mocking now.
M/n was trying desperately to keep his mind from completely shorting out, but the man's proximity and his voice was messing with his head.
"Oh.. sorry. Um, Wonwoo? I don't understand, why... why me? I-I'm not complaining I'm just... confused.”
This time a frown appeared on Wonwoo's face instead of his usual cocky smirk. He moved back from M/n's ear, looking down at him with an almost serious expression.
"Why you? I'll tell you why" he said, his gaze never leaving M/n's face. M/n's heart rate quickly began to pick up at the intensity in which the man was staring at him.
"You're cute, that's obvious.." he began, his eyes roaming over M/n's flushed face. "But on top of that... you're talented.. and I could tell when I was watching you earlier... that you're so damn hot when you're focused.”
M/n couldn't understand why this man was having this effect on him, why his words were making him feel weak and his body hot. And Wonwoo noticed. He could feel the rise in M/n's pants.
A smug smirk reappeared on the man's face, as he took notice of M/n’s predicament.
"Looks like I'm having an effect on you, hm?" he purred in M/n's ear again.
M/n 's face flustered with embarrassment, "I'm sorry! I-I don't know what's happening, I'm sorry.”
Wonwoo laughed lowly, his laugh doing absolutely nothing for M/n's already fried brain. "You don't have to apologize, I enjoy it," he said as he pulled M/n's hips forward, closing the distance between their bodies. M/n's eyes darted down to Wonwoo's lips. Wonwoo smirked again, the expression causing M/n's stomach to flip.
"You keep looking at my lips sweetheart, what are you thinking about?" he asked, his voice still low and smooth. "You're speechless a lot, you know that..?" he asks, his grip on M/n's hips tightening. "You're not saying anything because you're too busy thinking about my lips, I can tell," he said, a low chuckle escaping again. "You don't have to speak yourself then. I'll make you.”
And with that, he pressed his mouth to M/n's. M/n's mind suddenly went into overdrive, the soft pressure of Wonwoo's lips against his own sending sparks of pleasure shooting through him.
Wonwoo's mouth felt so warm and soft against his own. He couldn't get his mind to form a single thought, the only thing he could process at this point was the feeling of Wonwoo's lips moving against his. Wonwoo deepened the kiss, pulling M/n even closer by his hips.
The room was suddenly getting a lot hotter, the only thing that M/n could focus on was the man in front of him. The kiss was intense, and M/n was losing himself further and further with each passing moment.
His fingers found the way to the back of Wonwoo's shirt and clutched at the material tightly. Wonwoo let out a light moan as M/n gripped the fabric of his shirt, the sound sending yet another shiver of pleasure through him.
He continued to kiss him, his tongue slipping between M/n's lips and tasting every crevice of his mouth. Wonwoo suddenly bit down on M/n's bottom lip, causing him to gasp out a moan at the mixture of pain and pleasure.
"Jesus, the noises you're making are going to put me over the edge, you know that?" he says in a low, sultry tone. M/n's brain could barely process the words coming out of the man's mouth. "You're... you're driving me crazy," he managed to get out in a pant.
Wonwoo's hand inched up the underside of M/n's shirt, running his fingers along the bare skin of his stomach. M/n let out an involuntary noise at the feel of the man's fingers on his skin, his stomach felt like it was on fire wherever Wonwoo touched him.
Wonwoo's hand inched up the underside of M/n's shirt, running his fingers along the bare skin of his stomach. M/n let out an involuntary noise at the feel of the man's fingers on his skin, his stomach felt like it was on fire wherever Wonwoo touched him.
Wonwoo began to trail his mouth down M/n's neck, peppering kisses lightly over his skin. M/n's head fell back against the door of the small room, a soft moan escaping his lips.
The feel of Wonwoo's lips on his neck sent a fresh wave of hot pleasure through M/n's body.
"God... you're so whiney, I love it," he says softly between kisses. Wonwoo continued to mouth at M/n's neck as his hands began to wander further up his shirt. M/n could feel his body burning up, every touch from the other man was making his brain malfunction. "You feel so good" Wonwoo whispered against his neck.
M/n took one of Wonwoo's hands down to his crotch, "Wonwoo please... help me.” M/n let out another moan, the man's touch was doing wonders on his body. "Just... touch me, please," he begs, his hands coming to rest on Wonwoo's hips.
Wonwoo quickly began to undo the buckle of M/n's pants, his fingers working quickly to get the material off of him. M/n let out a low moan, the anticipation driving him crazy.
"You're so cute... I need to see more of you," Wonwoo says lowly. Wonwoo's hands were roaming over his thighs. "God, you're perfect" he says as he squeezes the flesh of one of his legs, his eyes roaming over his exposed body.
"So damn pretty" he mutters under his breath as he begins to kiss down the skin of the thigh in his hand. Wonwoo continued to mouth at the skin of his thigh, he was making his way closer to the one place that M/n wanted him to be.
Each little bite and kiss was sending more jolts of pleasure through him, his body felt like it was on fire. "Please, please.. Woo...”
"Please what, gorgeous? You have to tell me what you want," Wonwoo says, his mouth mere inches from the hardness of M/n's lower body.
M/n could barely form a coherent sentence, his brain was mush at this point. "Your mouth.. I need your mouth," he says in a pant, his hands tightening around the material of Wonwoo's shirt.
Wonwoo hummed against his thigh in response to his words. "Beg me, baby. Tell me how much you need me," he said lowly, his breath ghosting over the flesh of M/n's inner leg.
"Please, please Woo I need you. I need your mouth, I need your hands, I need you. Please." M/n was practically pleading now, the anticipation was killing him.
Wonwoo hummed again, satisfaction in his voice. "Such a polite little thing... can't say no to that now can I?" he said as he leaned forward in between M/n's thighs.
He wanted to see how much more he could break him down.
"You're being such a good boy for me, I'm going to make you feel so good, you hear me? You're going to feel so good, all because of me"
"Yes... please. Only you make me feel this way," M/n manages to pant out, he wanted the man's mouth so bad his body was aching for it.
"Mmhm, no one else but me can make you feel this good, and no one else ever will," Wonwoo says lowly as he continues to mouth across the inside of his thighs. M/n was already a mess, his breathing was uneven and his skin was hot.
"I'm going to have you begging for more, I'm going to have you screaming my name," he says in a murmur against the flesh of M/n's skin.
Wonwoo continued his ministrations to the flesh of his thighs, marking the soft skin with his mouth and teeth. He was purposely avoiding the one place M/n wanted him most, he wanted to hear him beg for it.
"You're already a mess and I've hardly touched you. You really are desperate, aren't you baby?" he said in a low tone. "My Good boy," Wonwoo says with a smirk.
Without any warning, he suddenly sank down to his knees, his face now level with M/n's hardness. M/n let out a low moan, finally giving in to the overwhelming sensations coursing through him.
Wonwoo's hands slid up M/n's thighs, his touch firm yet gentle, sending shivers up his spine. He looked up at M/n with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and without breaking eye contact, he pressed a kiss against the fabric covering M/n's arousal.
M/n's breath hitched, his hands instinctively reaching to tangle in Wonwoo's hair. The other man smirked, his fingers deftly undoing the button and zipper of M/n's pants. With deliberate slowness, he pulled down the material, freeing M/n's hardness from its confines.
Wonwoo's warm breath ghosted over M/n's exposed skin, causing him to shudder with anticipation. He placed a series of teasing kisses along M/n's length, each one sending jolts of pleasure through his body.
"Wonwoo... please," M/n murmured, his voice barely a whisper, filled with need.
Wonwoo chuckled softly, the vibrations of his laughter adding to M/n's pleasure. "Impatient, aren't we?" he teased, his lips brushing against M/n's tip.
Unable to take any more of the teasing, M/n's hips involuntarily bucked forward, seeking more of Wonwoo's touch. Wonwoo finally took pity on him, wrapping his lips around M/n's hardness and taking him into his warm, wet mouth.
M/n gasped, his head falling back against the door as waves of pleasure crashed over him. Wonwoo's mouth worked expertly, his tongue swirling around M/n's tip before taking him deeper.
The sensations were almost too much to bear. M/n's fingers tightened in Wonwoo's hair, his hips moving in time with the other man's rhythm. Wonwoo's hands gripped M/n's thighs, holding him steady as he continued to pleasure him.
M/n felt the tension building in his core, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. "Wonwoo... I'm close," he managed to say, his voice strained with need.
In response, Wonwoo increased his pace, his mouth moving faster, taking M/n as deep as he could. The sight of Wonwoo on his knees, his lips wrapped around him, was enough to push M/n over the edge.
With a final, shuddering gasp, M/n came, his release spilling into Wonwoo's mouth. The other man swallowed greedily, his eyes never leaving M/n's face as he rode out his climax.
As the waves of pleasure subsided, M/n slumped against the door, his legs feeling like jelly. Wonwoo stood up, a satisfied smile on his lips as he wiped a stray drop from the corner of his mouth.
"You're even more adorable when you're completely undone," he said, his voice low and teasing.
M/n could only nod weakly, his mind still reeling from the intensity of the experience. Wonwoo leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to M/n's lips.
"Let's get you cleaned up," he murmured, his tone now gentle and caring. "We can't have you going back out there looking like this."
With Wonwoo's help, M/n managed to pull himself together, his body still tingling from the aftershocks of pleasure. As they made their way back to the main area, M/n couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of connection with Wonwoo.
The game may have been over, but for M/n, a new and exhilarating chapter had just begun.
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago
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End Game 7
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.
Characters: Andy Barber
Note: hump day, wooooo.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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Strange how you never found comfort at home. Well, it never felt like one for you. You were always just a hanger-on. A burden. 
As you enter your grandma's house, you can't help but exhale the tension you've been holding in. She's in her chair, reading, not a word at your arrival. You go into the kitchen, set on eating the frozen meal you lost your appetite for the other night. 
You peel back the corner on the tray and shove it in the microwave. As you shut the door, you nearly wince at the unexpected figure in the doorway. You don't know if you're really surprised or if Andy has you jumpy. Both. 
"Want some coffee?" You offer your grandmother, hoping to appease her. "Tea?" 
She grumbles and waves you off, shuffling across the tile in her slippers. She crosses her arms and her lip sticks out, "nice of that man to come all the way down here like that." 
You turn your attention back to the countdown and shrug, "yeah." 
"He didn't need to just for all that. For you, did he?" She prompts. Her interest both irks and worries you. She never cared about anything. "And after losing his family." 
"Right, yeah, it's tough," you twiddle your fingers at your side. 
"Don't sound so heartbroken," she scoffs, "Christ, wasn't that boy you're friend?" 
You face her as the microwave beeps, "grandma..." you can't tell her. If she even bothered to listen, she wouldn't believe you. She doesn't even know Andy and she's already taking his side. Typical. "Yeah, I'm sad. Guess I'm a bit in shock." 
You turn back and take the too hot tray out, holding back a hiss at the singe in your fingertips. You spin and cross the kitchen to grab a fork. Your grandma huffs and putters after you.  
"He sent them flowers," she says. 
You stir the noodles and cheese, "he did." 
"Fancy. Expensive." 
You don't really get why she's still harping on. She didn't put so much mind to your prom or graduation or even when you got your job. Yet you can't be surprised where she's strayed; she's always been on you about money.  
"Seems to me he's a bit lost," she says, "you're..." she weighs her words before she speaks, something she rarely does, "maybe he's tryna find some direction. He might... might wanna take care of ya." 
"Huh?" You make a face and glance at her from the corner of you eye. 
"Like, I dunno, I watch those talk shows, grief is something nasty. I would know," she goes on. You can't remember the last time you heard her talk so much. "He only got-- had the one kid. You're about the same age... maybe he's tryna, I dunno, replace what he lost." 
You nearly laugh in her face. Really? This is what she cares about? You stare at her and furrow your nose. You could tell her. You could try. She's listening. For once.  
"I don't think... it's not... I'm not his responsibility and I don't wanna be." 
"You're barely your own responsibility," she sneers, "can't see a good thing in front of you." 
"Grandma--" 
"Well? Pretty sure there's more where those flowers came from," he tuts, "you got a few hard lessons to learn, girlie. 
You look down at the macaroni. You're not hungry anymore. You grab the tray and walk away. 
"Yeah, well, maybe you shoulda tried to teach me some, huh?" You toss over your shoulder and stomp out of the kitchen. 
You go into your room and kick your door shut. How is he doing this? How is everyone, even a woman who hasn't lived in reality for twenty years, on his side? 
You put the tray and fork down and go to the other side of the bed. You sit facing the window and drop your head into your hands. The only person you have is too far away. Besides, you don't want to drag her into this. Not any more than you already have. 
🎮
For once, you’re anxious to get to work. You welcome the distraction from everything else; debt, grandma, and the biggest problem of all, the one you won’t even name. You stroll up to the ice cream booth as Luis stands outside the window, chatting to Jessie as she stands at her vigil inside. You frown. You don’t see the manager often. Only when he hired you. 
“Ah, there she is,” Luis spots you and waves you over, “right on time.” 
As he checks his watch you pull out your phone. You’re early, like always. His presence is more than a coincidence. You have this ripply feeling in your stomach. You black your phone and cross your arms, hiding it under your elbow. 
“Hi, how’s everything going?” You ask as you approach the kiosk. 
“Everything’s great,” Luis smirks, “sunshine’s out, customers too.” 
You glance around. The picnic tables are mostly full. It is the perfect weather for a scoop. 
“Yeah, gonna be a busy shift,” you pander with a smile. 
“Hey,” Luis wags his finger as if remembering something, “before you start, let’s have a chat.” 
“Oh, alright,” you agree. 
He waves you away from the window as more customers approach. You follow him to one of the tables. You wait for him to sit before you do the same. He looks around from behind his black lenses and tilts to reach into his back pocket. He slides out his phone and brings it forward to cradle in both hands. 
“So uh, how are you liking it? The work?” He asks. 
You’re uneasy. You stare at his cell then look him in the face. 
“It’s good. Steady,” you answer as you keep your own phone in your lap. 
“Mhmm,” he hums and once more glances around, “look, this is never easy but I got a complaint--” 
You blink slowly. You’re not surprised. You figured it would happen. Still, you thought maybe Andy might be above that. Or anything at all. 
“Obviously, I take these things seriously. This business is all about customer service, especially with the Dairy Queen down the block,” he explains, “but I do try to give the benefit of the doubt. I checked the cameras.” He pauses for effect as you shrink down, “you closed the window.” 
You sigh and heave out a breath, “I did.” 
“You know we don’t do that,” he reprimands. 
“Sir, I know but... the customer... he wasn’t a customer. He’s... bothering me.” 
He pokes his tongue into his cheek and scratches his neck, “oh? Didn’t look like that type. When I spoke to him, he didn’t even seem upset. He just asked me to check in, really, but it’s not his shop. He don’t gotta worry about the bottom line. I do.” 
“It won’t happen again,” you wisp out. 
“I know it won’t,” he says. 
You sit, waiting for him to continue. He just stares at you. You shake your head. No. 
“Sorry, I gotta let you go.” 
“What? It’s my first complaint--” 
“This is an ice cream shop, how many of those do you think we get? Not very hard to keep the people happy so if you’re getting unhappy customers, well, that’s all I need to know.” 
“Please, Luis, I need this job--” 
“Shouldn’t have closed the window. I’m sorry. That’s the one rule.’ 
“God, I--” you huff and snarl, “whatever. Fine.” You stand and untie your apron, “get your bottom line.” 
You toss the apron on the table and swipe up your bag. You turn without waiting for another empty apology. Fuck. It’s shitty but hey, there’s always the DQ and now you have experience, right? 
🎮
You fill out an application for the Dairy Queen and a few other places. Your job hunt has been chronic as it is. It’s only that your search for a second gig, is now back to square one. You have only your last check coming to you before you’re digging into your meagre savings; the money meant for tuition. 
Your grandma is back to living in her novels. Good. You didn’t realise until before how much you preferred it. 
As you close yourself in your room, your phone vibrates. You look down at the message. It’s him. He’s been messaging, still thinking he might talk you into it. He is a lawyer but this isn’t his court. This is your life. 
How pathetic. A grown man meddling in the affairs of a nineteen-year-old. If you could let go of the catfishing, everything else has assured you of his character. You flop onto your bed and swipe away his texts. 
You wallow there for a while. In self-pity, in futility, in listlessness. You don’t know what to do. Everything is at a standstill. You have no job, you don’t know if you can pay for next semester, let alone the year, and you’re stuck in this deadbeat town. 
You put on a video to try to drown out the incessant anxiety. Today, you’re just going to let yourself sink. You can deal with everything tomorrow. You close your eyes and yawn, drifting into a haze that makes your head fuzzy. 
You’re roused by another vibe of your phone. You ignore it. He’s not going to get an answer. He can keep skirting around your blocks but you’re not wasting your energy. You’ve told him enough times to leave you alone. He has to get bored eventually. 
You roll over and bury your head in the pillow. You hear your grandma clunking around in the kitchen. You hate this place. You hate your life. The more you think about it, you can’t deny how horrible it really is, especially in the shadow of your dwindling future. 
What did you do to deserve this? You’re a good person. At least, you’ve always tried to be. It feels like a lot of karma for that Twizzler you stole when you were eight. 
Your grandmother keeps up the racket and your phone keeps on buzzing. You flip over and sit up. You snatch up the phone and stop yourself from flicking your thumb sideways. It isn’t him. It’s Kara. You never did call her back. 
You answer and put her on speaker, “hey, sup?”  
“Hey,” her voice is shaky, “uh, I don’t know.” 
“What?” You sit up straighter, “is everything--” your voice trails off as you listen to the commotion on her end; chatter you can’t make out, movement obscured through the speaker, “what do you mean you don’t know?” 
“The cops are here,” she murmurs, “I don’t know. They just showed up. Said they got a call from the landlord or something. Cause it’s the property owner, they can just come in or whatever. I don’t know, I don’t know...” Her voice quivers with panic, “me and Calvin were just hanging out...” 
“That’s... why would they--” 
“Shoot, I think...” she lowers her voice, “they must’ve found his stash. Shit, shit.” 
“Kara?” Your heart races as you try to keep track of what’s going. 
“Miss, can you please hang up the call? We need to question you,” a deep voice interjects. 
“One second, I’m just on the phone with--” 
“Miss, hang up or you’ll be charged with obstruction.” 
The line cuts and you gape at your phone. What the hell? You try to dial back, the call rolls through but doesn’t pick up. You try again and again. You get out of bed and pace, texting Kara helplessly. Shit, shit! How is this happening? Over what? A tiny dime bag? Everyone smokes, not that you’re the biggest fan. Too smelly for you. 
You put your hand to your forehead. What do you do? You can probably get a bus ticket. Even if you get to her, the bond is going to be way more than you can afford. You doubt you’ll even be able to scrape it together.  
Do you call her parents? No, they’d kill her, then she’d kill you. 
You shake as your legs turn to jello. You sit back down and close your eyes. Holy crap, this can’t be real.  
Your phone vibrates. It doesn’t stop. You look down at the incoming call. Unknown Caller. You’re not stupid. You know it’s him and his timing assures you he had something to do with this. This isn’t a coincidence. Those don’t exist. If there was any sort of luck in this world, you would have found some by now. 
“What?” You put the phone to your ear and snarl. 
“I can help your friend,” he says. 
You’re silent. You want to scream at him. You want to swear at him. You want to call him every nasty word you can. But this isn’t about you, not just you. You brought Kara into this mess, even if you never meant to. You won’t let her pay for your stupidity. 
“Meet me at Oxford and Maris. There’s a restaurant--” 
“Fine,” you snip and hang up. 
You lower your phone and shudder. He won. Given his career, he must be used to that. 
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hgfictionwriter · 5 months ago
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Maybe This Time - Part Three
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Summary: Jessie and you finally get some 1:1 time together (thanks Janine!). You work to build new memories together, but hurt from the past needs to be addressed.
Warnings: None. Temporary, very light angst, but mostly sweet fluff.
A/N: Part two and one.
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"What do you think? Should I go for it?" 
Jessie smirked as she saw the screenshot you sent her of her jersey in the Thorns' site shopping cart. 
"I don't know. I thought you said that was too big a commitment." 
"I did. But I was rather impressed at the last game. And we went for drinks after, I finally got to meet Janine – so you know, points for that. And if I think about it, I'm like an OG fan. But if you think I should get a different jersey..." 
Jessie laughed under her breath, her smirk now a full blown smile as she read your message while she ate lunch. The conversation she'd been on the periphery of carried on as she ate another bite before typing out a reply. 
"Oh yeah? Post-game drinks were a hit, huh? And you know, my stats are only getting better with each game 😉 And let's be honest, I'd be pretty offended if you got someone else's jersey. Except Sinc's. Because, you know, GOAT." 
"Oh, well, say no more. You had me at 'stats' lol. Done. I'll pick it up before next game." 
"Lol I figured. My plan all along – I know how much you love stats." 
"You know me so well. I have to say, I'm kind of tempted to modify the jersey. Add some sort of patch or stitching, 'Yay sports!'" 
Jessie laughed out loud, less discrete than before.  
"Don't you dare lol. I've taught you better than that. But hey, if you ask nicely, I could actually sign it for you 😎" 
"I'm sure I have an old group paper kicking around with your signature on it. I need to be able to wash this thing lol. What else can you offer though?" 
Jessie swallowed her food hard, the bite getting caught temporarily in her throat with a wince. Okay, no signature – how humbling. However, there was an opening. 
She stared at her phone temporarily before a loud clearing of someone's throat caught her attention. She lifted her gaze with a curious frown on her face to see Janine staring expectantly at her. Jessie instinctively tilted the phone inwards towards her body. 
"I don't even have to spy to know who you're texting," the blonde said rather self-satisfied. Jessie looked around, heat building in her face already as she hoped Janine was the only one focused on her.  
"Yeah?" Jessie retorted, attempting to appear as unfazed as possible. "You should be pleased. You keep pushing me to text her." She cracked a smirk. "Now that you don't think she's the devil incarnate for 'stringing me along' in university." 
"Oh I don't think you need to be pushed," Janine teased with a wicked grin. "And I never said she was the devil incarnate." She lifted a hand to her chest in exaggeration. "I merely questioned things. But you're right," she relented, "she's quite lovely. And she gives you butterflies, and she makes you blush - more than usual - and you try to act all nonchalant and it's just too adorable for words." 
"Uh huh," Jessie muttered with a flat look. Janine leaned in excitedly. 
"And I have to say, I got the sense that she and I could riff off of each other and just tease the heck out of you, so that really sealed the deal for me." 
Jessie rolled her eyes. "Oh yeah, that's exactly what I need in my life." She'd never admit that it actually excited her that her best friend and you could get along so well. If – and it was a huge 'if' - anything evolved between you two, it was key that you got along with her friends and family.  
She started thinking about how well you got on with her parents and sister – you'd met before during your days at UCLA and they loved you. She also remembered how disappointed they'd seemed when she eventually told them that you two didn't speak anymore.  
"Well, since you're so invested," Jessie went on, rolling her eyes facetiously once more as she opened her phone again and turned it to Janine, "what should I say?" 
Janine squinted as she leaned in to read and it only took a moment for her expression to light up. Before Janine could say anything, Jessie snatched the phone back and placed it on her lap with a frown.  
"I don't want to hear it," she pre-empted the girl. 
"What?" Janine said innocently with a mischievous glint in her eye. "I am totally supportive of the flirtation between you two." She ignored Jessie's look of complaint and cut off her protest. "Her shutting down your autograph is pretty hilarious, by the way," she said with a marginally apologetic look. "Not smooth on your part – you know she's not impressed by your elite football skills. Don't lean on your Jessie the Footballer identity." 
"I wasn't," Jessie nearly hissed, trying to keep her voice down and avoid drawing attention. "I was joking. Half joking." 
"You were flirting, or at least attempting to. She left you an opening here though. So, you should ask her out." 
"I'm not asking her out," Jessie pouted, her shoulders rounding as she scooched closer to the table. She huffed upon seeing the scrutinizing look her friend gave her. "We're still getting to know each other again." 
"Fine. Don't define it as a date, then," Janine dismissed with a wave. She leaned in, folding her arms on the table. "Ask her to go for dinner." 
"Basic," Jessie remarked as she sat up and crossed her arms in disapproval. She frowned. "Plus that's too date-like." 
"Fine," Janine said curtly. "How about a hike?" 
Jessie hummed and hawed, unconvinced. "Maybe someday. Doesn't seem right at this point though." Janine rolled her eyes in exasperation.  
"Well, what did you two used to do back at UCLA?" 
Jessie shrugged. She saw the frustration Janine was telegraphing at how unhelpful she was being and jumped in. "We went to drop-in art classes sometimes." 
Janine held a hand up to the sky. "Thank you. Finally – something I can work with. Okay! Let's find a drop-in class for you two to go to then." She pulled out her phone and started browsing before shooting a look at Jessie as an aside. "Oh, and dinner's too date-llke, but an art class isn't? Okay." 
Jessie grunted and pulled out her phone as well to look.  
"Here," Jessie announced after a couple of minutes. "This'll work. She enjoyed painting." 
Without further consultation, Jessie began to type out a message to you. She bit back a laugh at how Janine's head was bobbing around periodically trying to peek at the message from across the table.  
"Don't send it yet! I want to see it," Janine pouted.  
"You are not writing my messages for me," Jessie told her pointedly, but gave a heavy sigh as she turned her phone for the blonde to see. An affronted look crossed Jessie face as Janine let out a guffaw and snatched the phone out of her hand.  
"No," Janine simply said with a wag of her finger before she started typing. Jessie reached out for the phone, but Janine turned her body away. Jessie clamored more, but stopped as soon as she noted some of their teammates glancing their way. She shrunk back into her seat, a hand rubbing the side of her face as she spoke in a harsh whisper.   "What are you doing." 
"Jeff. Relax. I would never lead you astray," Janine assured her. "And this is so very satisfying for me since I never got to help you with any of this during uni. Cause let me tell you, if I had been involved, you two definitely would've been living happily ever after." 
Jessie breathed in exasperation. "Please. Give me my phone back." 
"Okay, okay. Here," Janine said, all humour from her tone gone as she now offered Jessie a sincere smile. "Read it over, but I think this is good." 
Jessie gave her a lingering stare as she took back her phone and let out another withering sigh before reading.  
"Funny you should ask. I was thinking about how much I missed art classes together. How about I take you to one of the drop-in painting classes across town when I'm back from Houston?"  
Jessie lifted her gaze to meet Janine's and she studied the blonde for a few moments before relenting with an inaudible sigh. It was better than her original "I don't know. Paint class?" reply. She hit send and released another heavy breath as she tucked the phone away once more.  
"You're welcome," Janine said with a saccharine smile. Jessie gave her a fake smile in return, pulling a laugh out of the girl. "Hey, let's remember which one of us is engaged and which one of us is perpetually single." 
"Ouch," Jessie said with a light laugh.  
"I'm just teasing," Janine went on. "I genuinely hope this turns into something for you. Considering you've only come back into each other's lives, what, like a couple months ago? You two seem pretty solid already. And you seem happier." 
Jessie wanted to give a dry retort of some kind, but Janine was right. You two talked every day now and the chemistry you had in university was still very much present. And the depth you once had in your friendship was something that was quite easily and naturally being broached again. Even if you'd both grown and changed, the cores of who you were still aligned well and fit together. Too well. 
She'd more or less dismissed the spark of emotions that came up during your initial interactions as some sort of emotional muscle memory, but the feelings were proving to not be fleeting or diminishing.  
If anything, her feelings for you were growing. And this time they felt different, too. Heavier, deeper in some way. She was a more realized person now, as were you, and it made the connection between you more substantial. Less juvenile.  
Her phone buzzed. She opened her lock screen.  
"That sounds like a lot of fun! Let's do it." 
————
By the time your paint date night came around, Jessie was nearly buzzing with anticipation. It wasn’t an official date, of course, but she hadn’t seen you since that night after the game, and truthfully, it felt like it had been too long.
She was early - as usual - but as she rounded the corner to the building, she bit back a smile upon seeing you waiting. You were always early too, which she appreciated.
“Hey.” Jessie greeted as she approached. Again, she had to tamp her smile when you beamed back at her.
“Hey, good to see you,” you said as you stepped in for a hug, which Jessie reciprocated. “I love your shirt,” you continued when you stepped back.
“Oh,” Jessie said with a slight frown and a mild laugh as she looked down at herself in question. “Thanks,” she said as she gave a shrug and fought off a blush. She looked you up and down, not entirely discretely. “I like your outfit.”
You rolled your eyes affectionately and gave her a look. “You don’t need to reciprocate my compliment. But thank you.”
“I legitimately like your outfit,” Jessie retorted, her pitch rising and pulling a laugh out of you as you both walked towards the building. Jessie took a few quick steps and grabbed the door, holding it open. “After you.”
“Such service. Thank you,” you said, both teasing and appreciative. Jessie didn’t wink, but she did give a teasing lift of her eyebrows as you passed.
As the instructor gave their directions for the lesson, Jessie found herself distracted, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye. The whole lesson carried on like that, really. Jessie had to make a point to not fall behind as she’d uncharacteristically lose concentration. The worst, well, best, moments being when she'd lean over feigning critical assessment of your work when really she just wanted to be close.
By the end, she was decently satisfied with the forest landscape she’d painted. However, she felt it paled in comparison to the ocean sunset you’d crafted.
“I love your colours. And the little cabin you added is great,” you told her as you were both leaving, canvases in hand.
“Well good,” she said as she got to a clearing on the sidewalk and stopped to turn to you. “Consider it my gift to you,” she went on as she held it out to you.
“Jessie,” you said sweetly with a smile as you took it and looked it over more thoroughly. “That’s really sweet. Thank you. It’s beautiful. And bonus - I get my Jessie Fleming signature, but on a far rarer painting as opposed to a jersey,” you laughed. “And what a coincidence. I painted this for you.”
Jessie looked at you for a moment before a smile broke out across her face as she belatedly took the painting you held out.
“Thank you,” she said softly as she studied the image. She frowned in realization as she lifted her eyes to you. “Is this the same beach from our photo?”
You nodded. “It is. Nice eye.”
“Who knew you were so sentimental?” Jessie teased.
“Apparently not you,” you replied with a roll of your eyes, but gave a small laugh. “Come on. It’s been a while, but you know me better than that.”
Jessie was quiet for a moment as she took you in. She eventually nodded. “I know.”
A small lull fell over you both before you asked. “So, what now? Do you have to leave?”
“No.” Jessie spoke quickly with a shake of her head. “I don’t have anywhere to be. How about you?”
You shook your head in return. “Same. Well, it’s beautiful out tonight. Want to just go for a walk? We can drop these off at my car first,” you proposed as you held up the painting.
“Sure. Sounds great.”
After a short detour, you both began your stroll along the quiet, tree-lined street.
“Thanks for suggesting that class,” you said. “I don’t really get to paint or pursue creative hobbies as much anymore. It was nice to make a point of it. I can’t imagine you have much of an opportunity to focus on things like that anymore, hm?”
Jessie sighed quietly in contemplation and gave a shrug.
“Not extensively, no. But we do lots of team building, so sometimes we’ll do artsy things. And I can do hobbies and such in my down time, whether during the week or between seasons.”
She looked over to see you giving her a soft smile.
“What?” She asked.
“Nothing really. Just kind of crazy how everything turned out. You’ve achieved so much and your life is so impressive.”
Jessie was about to interject with a compliment for you, but you carried on.
“Are you happy with how things turned out?” You asked with a slight cock of your head.
“I-um, yeah.” Jessie stammered slightly, caught off guard by your question. “I mean, yeah it’s been incredible. More amazing than I could’ve ever pictured. And I know I’m very lucky.”
“You’re not lucky, Jess. You’ve worked exceptionally hard.”
She huffed lightly. “Yes, but luck is involved too. Lots of people work hard and still don’t get half the opportunities I’ve had.”
“I suppose,” you relented. “But you’ve made the most of those opportunities and haven’t taken them for granted.”
“That’s true. But look at you. You’ve worked so hard. And I know what you’ve been up against, but you’ve risen above and built a great life for yourself,” Jessie emphasized.
“Thank you,” you accepted with a half smile. Jessie knew the ins and outs of your family dynamics - something few people truly knew. You smiled more fully at her. “And look at us now. We both left LA and then found ourselves in the same city again and got to reconnect,” you finished with a laugh. "It sounds strange, but it really feels like in some ways like no time has passed. Not really, anyway. Like you and I were able to pick up where we left off."
You let out a quick sigh, giving a deep shrug as you did so. Your eyes remained trained on the ground as you two walked. "I mean, we talked the other week about my family and it just felt so different. Like, I've told recent friends or girlfriends my history and everything, and they listen and they 'get it', but it's not the same. That conversation with you – via text, no less – had more depth and weight than any comparable conversation with my exes or current friends. You were there. You know it – and me, I guess - inside and out. And even if I retell things, it's just not the same." 
Jessie nodded, watching you. It did feel like yesterday when she was sitting next to you on your bed, sobs wracking your body after one confrontation too many with your family. Normally, Jessie was so analytical and tentative about her physical contact with you, but the second you started crying she put her arms around you without hesitation and you leaned in, resting your head on your shoulder as she held you. That was the first time, but it wasn't the last.  
Looking back on it, maybe your girlfriends did have good reason to dislike her. 
"I know what you mean," she told you. "It's different. I mean, it's the same with you in a lot of ways. You were there for me during some critical points – big decisions in my life and you understood who I was and who I wanted to be." 
You smiled at her fondly. You looked ready to say something and Jessie waited. A moment passed and you exhaled, saying, "It really meant a lot – having you in my life and the support you gave me back then. I hope you know that." 
"I know," Jessie accepted with a smile of her own. "And likewise." 
Her mind drifted. She should probably just leave things be, but not speaking her mind is what held her back all those years before. She needed to share her thoughts and feelings if things were going to be different this time. She took a breath.  
"You know, I was really shocked when we saw each other here." She paused briefly. "I don't know. We hadn't talked in so long. I think I'd relegated myself to assuming we'd never see each other or ever talk again. Despite how important we were to one another at some point." 
Her statement seemed to give you pause, the mild surprise evident on your face. You eventually glanced down at the street as you two continued to walk. 
"Yeah. That's true, I guess," you conceded, your voice soft. 
Jessie studied you, unsatisfied with the response you gave. She pushed.  
"I knew we wouldn't be able to stay as close as we were. That was inevitable with us living so far away from one another, but I don't think I expected contact to fall apart as quickly as it did." You didn't reply right away and she went on with an ironic laugh. "We went from talking all day every day, to a few times a week with a video call scattered in there, to the odd message every couple of weeks, then just texts on birthdays and at Christmas, to nothing at all." 
She wasn't sure what she was anticipating, but she didn't expect you to turn to her with a perplexed frown.  
"Yeah. It did taper off pretty quickly."  
Despite the time that'd passed, Jessie still knew when you were telling half-truths. She gave a bit of an empty chuckle. "What else are you thinking?" 
You returned her laugh with a mild look. "I don’t know. I'm just kind of confused, I suppose." Jessie frowned.  
"About what?" She questioned. Faint alarm bells went off in her head when you stopped walking. She stilled her movements as well and you turned to one another on the sidewalk.  
You took a moment to gather your thoughts. You spoke with a smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. 
"I know it was me who stopped replying right away to messages – I don't deny that – but you weren't exactly giving me a lot to work with." You took a breath, dropping your shoulders before you spoke further. "Honestly? It was kind of feeling one-sided. Yeah, you replied, but a lot of your replies were brief and noncommittal. And when I asked if everything was okay you just told me you were busy. Which," you let out a slightly rueful laugh, "is absolutely fair. You were building this brand new, big life. Which is exactly what you were supposed to do. I don't begrudge you at all. I don’t know." You shrugged and averted your gaze momentarily. "I guess things just started to feel off." 
Jessie exhaled quietly as she processed your reply. What you were saying wasn't false. It had been so long it was easy for Jessie to just recall the end result – that you'd stopped replying altogether. That you'd given up on her; on the connection you'd both built for years. 
Standing here now though, if she was honest with herself, it was true that Jessie grew distant in her messages - purposefully so - knowing it would drive you away. What was she supposed to do? You two were never going to be together. And being friends was so incredibly hard sometimes because it was never just friendship for her. There was always this bittersweet feeling to everything and now that you were on completely different paths, there was an inevitable conclusion. Yet, she struggled to cut herself off cold. So instead, she took the coward's way out.  
Jessie scratched the back of her head. "I was busy," she repeated. She contemplated doubling down, but thought better of it. "And I guess I was finding it hard. We were building two very different lives." 
There was so much more she wanted to say, but she couldn't. What would be the point? Her chest panged when you gave her a sad smile.  
"I know," you accepted with a sadness in your eyes. "And I really wanted that for you. I just - it was hard to not feel like a nuisance. Like some obligation. So I just stopped writing."
Jessie's frown deepened. She knew all those years ago that she had to be hurting you, but she could lie to herself about it and focus selfishly on herself. Seeing you talk about it in front of her wasn't something she'd anticipated.
"I didn't mean for that," Jessie said. "And I never stopped caring about you," she compromised. 
"Yeah. I never stopped caring about you, either," you reciprocated in a subdued manner. Despite her role in everything, Jessie was still harbouring hurt from all those years prior and she felt compelled to push on. Sure, she'd pushed you away, but you'd let her. She erased you from her life little by little, day by day and you allowed it.
"Funny how quickly things change sometimes," Jessie went on. She didn't mean to scoff, but she did. "You didn't even tell me when you and [y/ex] broke up. You didn't even tell me you were having problems."  
In years past, Jessie was your sounding board for all your girl troubles. She remembered it well – it was painful. Having to hear you either swoon or – more often – complain about your girlfriends. Hearing how they disappointed or frustrated you when Jessie knew she could love you better. Just thinking back to it stoked a fire in Jessie's chest again. While she had genuinely loved you and cared about your well-being, she'd vowed to never get stuck in that dynamic again.  
You cracked a smirk. "It just seemed frivolous to bother you with something like that at that point." 
Another pang in Jessie's chest. "Well," she kicked idly at the concrete beneath her, "I would've been there for you if you ever needed me. I hope you knew that." 
You sighed and gave a hollow laugh as you pushed your hair back, causing Jessie to get momentarily distracted by the way the rays from the street light hit your face.  
"I know," you said quietly before meeting her gaze. "And I hope you knew the same about me. I know you're surrounded by people who love you, but," you shrugged listlessly, "I'd be there for you, too." 
Before Jessie could respond you gave her another smirk. 
"Besides. Though you never said anything explicit, I know you didn't like her. And by the end I could see why, too. No point wasting any of our limited conversation talking about her." 
Jessie bit back a smirk, but knew her eyes betrayed her. "Well, I guess that's poetic. Your girlfriends never liked me and I never liked them." 
Despite the mounting tension in your conversation, you laughed and gave her a nod. Jessie didn't return your laugh though. She gave you a solemn look. 
"You always deserved better than them. I know some of them were just fine, some of them even good, but they didn't seem earnest enough and they didn't love you enough." 
You were taken aback by her sudden proclamation. You opened your mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words.  
Jessie never understood how they didn't worship the ground you walked on. She practically did, even if she didn't show it. While those girls showed they cared through superficial acts like a generic bouquet of flowers, Jessie listened. In many ways. It was obvious to Jessie that they didn't really get you – not the way she did. And if they were so in tune with you, then why was it her you came to when things were hard or you were scared or even hopeful. If she'd been your girlfriend, she would've given you everything you needed and more. They clearly didn't. 
You eventually gave a soft huff and offered Jessie a quiet smile. 
"You've always been very observant. And very thoughtful. I get it now. There's a reason I'm single now. I don't want to settle anymore," you told her. 
Jessie was quiet before giving a nod of acceptance.  
"I'm glad to hear that." 
You both started walking again, though neither of you spoke right away. There was still a heaviness in the air, but it felt different now; hopeful.  
"I'm sorry for how things ended," you said as she glanced over at Jessie as you two strolled through the quiet street. "You've always been really important to me – regardless of whether we were in contact or not. I don't want to say that I wish things had been different, because I really don't see the point in regretting anything, but I will say I'm very grateful that we've had this chance to reconnect and rebuild." You paused. "I've really missed you. I didn't realize how much." 
"I'm really sorry, too," Jessie said, a smile spreading across her face. "And I agree – we can't change the past, but I also appreciate the chance to be friends again. I've missed you, too." 
She swallowed as she contemplated whether to add more. The lull that naturally formed told her to forge ahead.
"And you were never a nuisance or an obligation. I'm really sorry it came across that way."
"Awww, Jessie," you said in a teasing voice, lifting your conversation up again. You paused your steps and Jessie stopped and turned to you in question. "Come on," you beckoned as you waved her over and brought out your phone. "We need a new photo together." 
Jessie didn't fight it. Instead, she smiled at you and walked over to stand next to you. You leaned into her and Jessie found her hand naturally gravitated to your waist. It rest there before Jessie could even realize it, but before she could fret, you looked back at her with a smile before facing forward again. 
You took the photo and immediately opened up your messages with Jessie to send it to her. Jessie belatedly realized her hand was still on you and she pulled it back, holding her hands behind her. 
"There," you announced. "Now we can start rebuilding our collection. Portland memories – not just UCLA anymore." 
Jessie laughed and held up her phone, pointing the camera at you. 
"No, come on," you whined immediately and she laughed further.  
"Hey, this is part of the deal," she countered. You huffed, but eventually smiled for her. "Just remember. This goes both ways. I get new photos of you, too." 
She found herself giving you a wink. "I'll allow it."  
A/N: Part Four is available here.
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lurkingshan · 1 month ago
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hi!! i was wondering if you could recommend some good high school japanese (or from other countries) bls? all this time i avoided them cause i felt old and uncomfortable but yesterday i finally watched one and the pureness and warmth of these sweet kids experiencing their first love really warmed my heart and brought back memories of my own first crushes. thank u in advance and I hope u have a wonderful day!
Hi anon! I firmly believe we are never too old to be swept away by the nostalgia of a good high school show. There are specific emotional buttons that get engaged by a coming of age or first love story, and it's comforting to see both reflections of experiences that were similar to our own and fantasy versions of a high school experience we never got to have. I support you venturing into high school bl!
This is not a comprehensive overview of all bls with high school age characters, but a solid list of great shows that center that high school coming of age/first love experience in their stories, in a mix of moods and tones. I'll start with some favorites from Japan, and then include a few from other countries, as well. I hope you like some of these!
Japan
I Cannot Reach You
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This is a classic friends to lovers first love story done exactly right. I don't know anyone who watched it only once, it's so satisfying.
If It's With You
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A boy who is jaded before his time meets an earnest hottie when he moves to a new town and school. Feelings ensue.
My Love Mix Up
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This one puts the com in romcom, with a confused bisexual chaos muffin setting off a comedy of errors as he tries to figure out who actually likes who among his classmates.
Takara-kun to Amagi-kun
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A simple story of two boys trying to navigate their first relationship and figuring out how to go about dating and interacting at school.
Eternal Yesterday
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On the tragic end, this is a story of first love that ends abruptly due to accidental death. The story is an exploration of the grief and stunted growth that results when someone so young suffers a loss so monumental. It's an absolutely beautiful show, but not a light watch.
Philippines
Marahuyo Project
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This is a gorgeous show about a brash and loud and proud gay kid who gets sent to live on a small island after an incident at school, and decides to create an LGBTQ+ club at his new school. This one has a social education agenda, but it's also very funny and sweet.
South Korea
Light on Me
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The story of a confident gay boy and his love triangle where you will actually like everyone involved! A rare gem in these drama streets.
Where Your Eyes Linger
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And on the angstier side, this one is the story of two friends, one of whom has been raised to be a caretaker/bodyguard for the other, struggling with a realization of feelings between them. The power dynamic and social class divide between them feature heavily.
Taiwan
History 3: Make Our Days Count
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Possibly a controversial pick, as this one has a tragic ending that is hard for a lot of people to stomach. But it's a great high school show that includes two first love stories, one between a beautiful himbo and the studious boy who catches his eye, and the other between his very sweet best friend and an older man he meets through his job.
About Youth
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This first love story between two very nice boys struggling with school and family issues manages to be incredibly sweet while also dealing with some heavy topics, and features a couple amazing original songs that still get stuck in my head all the time.
The On1y One
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This is such a pitch perfect high school story that I'm putting it on this list before it technically finishes airing. Two high school boys meet when their parents move in together and decide to get married, and begin to heal each other. This one nails the angst and yearning.
Thailand
My School President
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Possibly one of the cutest high school romcoms of all time, and it features a student band so there are a ton of original songs. This is a story about a boy who runs for class president just so he can save his crush's music club. It's two nice boys who like each other and the shenanigans they get up to with their friends.
I Told Sunset About You
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And for the completely opposite experience: the ultimate angsty coming of age queer awakening story. One of the most beautiful dramas I have ever seen, and so evocative and emotionally resonant that it is actually hard for some people to watch because it's too real.
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bethelighthalazia · 6 months ago
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Terrifying - Part 2
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Summary:  Yunho feels horrible for scaring and hurting you, so he apologizes and promises to do everything to show you how important you are to him and how much he loves you.
Genre:  angst, fluff
Pairing: bf!Yunho X fem!reader
Word Count:  1753
Warnings: mentions of wounds/scratches, mentions of hurting, sad Yuyu, mentions of crying, insecure reader
networks: @mirohs-aurora-society
[note: thank you, @ja3hwa for helping me with finding a good ending paragraph <3]
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© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.
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At the dorms, the others were around you the moment Mingi stepped through the main entrance. San took you out of Mingi´s arms, who then left again to check on Yunho while you were placed on the big sofa. Wooyoung had already grabbed blankets to cuddle up in the living room with you to watch any movie you want. It seems that Yunho had called the others, the second you and Mingi had left the apartment, to tell them what happened. 
“Y/n, could I check on your wounds please?” Seonghwa asked with a gentle voice, a first aid kit in his hand while he sat down on the sofa next to you. You nodded, wiping your face with one hand while holding your other arm out towards him. “Oh, you´re wearing the bracelet we got you!” A smile on Seonghwa´s face, he gently dabbed some disinfectant ointment on the scratches, causing you to wince ever so slightly every time. “Do- do you think he's mad at me now? I- I think I hurt his feelings…” You sniffled quietly, some new tears appearing in your eyes, but before Seonghwa could answer, you´re pulled into a tight hug by Wooyoung who shakes his head no. 
“He's more worried about you being mad at him, y/n.” Jongho said, carrying a bowl with your favorite snacks over to you. “Don´t worry, he loves you, that I am absolutely sure of.” 
When he put down the bowl, the maknae gave you a soft squeeze to the shoulder before then leaving the room, he didn't want you to possibly get overwhelmed with too many people around for now. Hongjoong also came over to the sofa and placed a kiss on top of your head, something he had done almost ever since you met the boys, because he sees you as his sister, and then whispered something to Seonghwa before leaving to go check on Yunho as well, knowing you're in the best hands.
Yeosang just stayed quiet, sitting on the other sofa and turning on the TV for you, knowing well which ones are your favorites to watch. Your head was now resting on Wooyoung´s shoulder, you felt your eyes getting heavy, but you didn't want to fall asleep yet, too scared that nightmares could haunt your dreams. “Woo? Why- why do you all seem so calm?” You asked after a few moments, frowning a bit when you realized that they are too calm for what happened. When Wooyoung exchanges looks with San, Seonghwa and Yeosang, you swallow hard. Is there something they don't want to tell you? A secret that they hide from you?
“Y/n, I think-” “That's something Yunho should tell you himself, y/nnie.” Mingi, who just entered the dorms again, cut off Seonghwa who was trying to answer you, but then the others just nod at Mingi´s words. When you heard his voice, your head perked up, accidentally hitting Wooyoung's chin slightly, your eyes wide. “Mingi, how-” “He is okay, Hongjoong hyung is with him now to help clean up your apartment. He sent me here to see how you feel and if you need anything.” Mingi hummed, coming over to sit on the floor right in front of the sofa. 
“I'm…okay?” With a raised eyebrow, Mingi looked at you, he could always tell if you´re telling the truth or not and often, he even knows better how you feel than you do yourself. With a little sigh, you shrugged, not even sure how exactly you feel. But you weren't in pain anymore, that is something you can say for sure.
“Really Mingi…I am not in pain or anything, I just-” “You´re confused, right?” Nodding, you fully focused on your best friend, Wooyoung laid an arm around you again to calm you down a bit. No one spoke for a while, just letting you relax and hopefully doze off a bit. It indeed almost worked, your eyes heavy while your head rested against Wooyoung´s shoulder and Mingi caressed your hands in a soothing manner, you almost fell asleep.
That is, until a jingle of keys, quiet voices and the sound of a door unlocking is heard. your head jerked up, again hitting Wooyoung´s chin, when you heard your boyfriend´s voice answering to Hongjoong. Mingi got to his feet almost instantly, staring at the entryway, where soon Hongjoong and Yunho appeared. “Hyung, are you-” “Everyone out, except for y/n, Mingi and Yunho.” Hongjoong said and, to everyone's surprise, the room actually cleared. The captain just patted Yunho ́s back gently before leaving as well, but you knew that he’d be just one room further, so he could intervene if needed.
While Mingi just stared at them, Yunho had only eyes for you, an expression like a beaten puppy on his face. You know that he's feeling horrible, knowing that Yunho is not the type of person to hurt others purposefully. Yet, your body flinched slightly when he took a step closer to the sofa, your movement causing him to freeze on the spot. Mingi sat down on the armchair nearby, just in case, but he didn't intervene at all. 
“Y/n, love I-” Yunho started, but then got quiet, not sure what he could say to undo his actions. “I know that nothing I say would make you forget that I hurt you…and I-” He took a deep breath, just standing in the middle of the room, not coming closer to you for now. “I would understand if you'd hate me and never want to see me anymore.” His voice got quieter with every word he spoke, you could see how hard it is to talk while knowing that you probably are scared of him now. “But please…could I try to explain? I won't try to make any excuses, because I know my behavior was absolutely unacceptable and no excuse or apology could undo it.”
With a short glance over to Mingi who gave a reassuring nod, you then nod as well, patting the free space on the sofa next to you. “O- okay…I have a question though…are you still mad at me?” You asked quietly, to which Yunho quickly took a few steps over to you to take your hand, just to then freeze when you flinch. “S- sorry, I didn't mean to scare you again-” He whispered, slowly kneeling down in front of you, taking your hand in his. “But please, y/nnie, my love, my heart, I could never be mad at you. I wasn't even upset with you earlier, but with myself and all the stress I had the last weeks…I tend to bottle it all up and sometimes it just bursts out of me. Usually I would come here and tell Mingi, then we would go to the gym or something, but this time, I didn't…and let it out on you.”
Yunho's voice broke, the thought of hurting you already let him get teary and his heart dropped. “B- before I asked you to be my girlfriend, I swore to myself to never have such an outburst near you…and now I even scarred you because of it-” Pulling his hands away, he sat on the back of his feet, still kneeling in front of you, his head dropped against his chest. He truly looked like a sad puppy and you would love to pull him into a soothing embrace, yet you cannot bring yourself to do so. Even though you knew that he meant every word, and that he would never purposefully hurt you, you cannot shake off the fear and the broken trust between the two of you.
“Yunho-” You whispered, his frame getting smaller as he curled into himself , almost slumping in front of you when you didn't use your usual nickname for him. This was what Yunho always had feared; to hurt you and to push you away from him. “I- I just…I still love you, but…but I also am scared. I trusted you with my life…but now? I don't- I don't know if I can trust you. So-” With another deep breath, you tried to steady your voice, tears again stinging in your eyes. “So please…give me time, okay? I love you…and I still want to be with you, but- but a trust that's broken like this…I don't know how long it might take to rebuild, but…but you will have to show me that I can trust you again…”
Yunho nodded silently, his mind racing. You still wanted to be with him, even though you knew that he would be capable of hurting you? His heart beat faster, with a quick movement, he wiped away his tears before looking up, he had no right to cry when he was the one who had hurt you. “I will do anything, jagiya. Everything to show you that you mean more to me than anything else.” He then said after a few moments of silence, his voice quiet but hopeful. “You are my everything, y/nnie, and I am so…so thankful that you give me this chance.”
You already knew that your heart forgave him the moment he called Mingi to get you out of the danger he might have gotten for you back then, proving already that he never wanted to hurt you in the first place. But, forgiving does not mean to immediately trust him again, both of you knew this. And both of you were ready to be patient. After a short glance around to reassure yourself that Mingi is still in the room with you two, you slowly moved, getting down from the sofa to hug Yunho, who's still kneeling in front of you. The hug felt awkward and you didn't keep this closeness for long, but when you whispered an “I love you, Yuyu” before leaning back, you could feel his heartbeat accelerate and a hopeful expression appeared on Yunho's face. 
“I love you, y/nnie. Thank you for letting me prove myself to you, even if I don't deserve your kindness after I hurt you like this…” You sat there in silence for a moment letting him say sorry over and over again, glancing at Mingi every now and then to make sure everything was okay. You knew this situation wasn't going to go away. And you knew he would stop at nothing to show you that you can trust him again. 
It was going to be a long road and Yunho was willing to travel down it. For you.
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hellfirenacht · 7 months ago
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Wing Man Part 8
Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.
(1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9)
Chapter Summary: Eddie explains himself, and you two make plans to hang out on purpose.
5.7k Words
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a/n: Sorry I haven't been updating! I swear, I'm almost always thinking about this fic but I've been trying to figure out where to go with it. I'm started to see how I want to shape the story (over 40k words in, go figure). Thank you all so much for your patience!
Also, I've had a lot of people ask me about Paige and have shown interest in what happened between her and Eddie. She is actually from Eddie's prequel novel, Flight of Icarus! I'll still explain bits and pieces during the story, but I highly recommend reading the novel for the full context. I am trying to write this in a way you don't need to read FoI, but it does give extra context to the story.
Anyway, we continue.
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Aside from the mixtape playing in the van, it was surprisingly quiet between you and Eddie. Despite his eagerness to show up and take you out, now that you were sitting in his passenger side seat again, he had no idea what to do next. The sound of Iron Maiden was rumbling through the van, crackling through the old speakers. 
It wasn’t often that Eddie was at a loss for words or couldn’t come up with something to say. After embracing his role in the Hawkins High ecosystem as the resident loudmouth freak he could always come up with something to say to break the ice or cause a ruckus. 
But, being loud wasn’t exactly a substitution for actual charisma. He could hold the attention of his Hellfire Club during the game, and keep them safe enough from most bullies even. But intimidation was different than... whatever the hell he was supposed to be doing here. Flirting? That seemed right. He knew he should be trying to flatter you or compliment you or do something to show that he had an interest in you. 
“So,” you were the one to break the silence between the two of you. “What have you been up to for the past two weeks?”
Eddie know what you actually meant was “What the fuck, man?” which was a really fair question. 
“I should have called you sooner.” It was best to go ahead and rip the bandaid off now and get this conversation out of the way. “I’m sorry, I wanted to but I couldn’t.”
“Why not?” you asked, leaning against the passenger side door as you looked at him. Despite your eagerness to get out of Family Video with him, he could see that you weren’t going to just let him not explain why he hadn’t talked to you. Not that he was going to leave you hanging like that anyway. 
“My phone blew up.” Eddie said bluntly. 
“Your phone blew up? Like... actually exploded?” you asked, trying to see if he was fucking with you. 
“Remember that huge storm a few weeks ago? Turns out that old trailers don’t exactly have the best wiring sometimes so when lightning strikes it knocks out power for a few days and fries some important wires.” he explained. “So... yeah, we just got a new phone today and when I tried to call...”
“So, I didn’t answer my phone so you decided to track me down?” There was amusement in your voice which he took as a good sign. “Seems like you could have done that part earlier. I’m not hard to find.” 
“I’m not exactly interested in stalking.” Eddie snorted. “I’m already on enough people's shitlist in town.”
“Oh, you’re no fun.” you laughed. “You know where I live, you could have shown up at my doorstep in the rain or used random phones around town to leave weird messages about how you can’t stop thinking about me or sent me letters with cryptic meanings.”
“Where do you come up with these things?” Eddie laughed, feeling the tension between the two of you start to dissipate. 
“I read a lot of bodice-ripper books.” you shrugged. “Trashy romance novels are a guilty pleasure sometimes.” 
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re a weirdo?” 
“Steve did about an hour ago when I suggested that Bozo the clown could be the shit out of Pennywise from It.” 
Eddie wasn’t sure what he expected you to say, but it wasn’t that. Every time you had shown up in his life, you had completely thrown him off. He was starting to suspect that no amount of “Munson Magic” was going to work on you. Not that he wanted to work his dad’s charm on you to begin with. 
What he really wanted to do at that moment was ask you about your little bet with Steve. No, wait, not a bet. A deal? Maybe he should have asked Dustin more questions, or at least waited until after Hellfire to talk to the kid- 
”So what’s the plan?” You broke through his thoughts once again. “You show up out of nowhere and have me get into your unmarked van to take me to a second location... is there a second location in mind?”
There wasn’t, Eddie really hadn’t thought that far ahead.He’d panicked after his talk with Wayne and had shown up to Family Video on the chance that you’d been there. He’d run straight out the door with every intention of finding you and let you know that he was stupid for not trying harder to call you before. 
”I figured we could just... drive.” He wished he could ignore the sudden parallel between you and Paige. He wished that he could just forget about what happened in ‘84. Fuck, him and Paige never even had an official date, only hooking up in his van for a few weeks before everything blew up. 
Wait, was this a date? Crap, that had been the plan right? Show up, ask you on a date and then... then he’d be on a date. What the FUCK was he actually doing? He was acting so fucking awkward now- everything had been easier before. Why did Dustin have to open his big mouth about this?
“Just driving sounds great.” you said, and Eddie once again tried to relax. Every girl he had been with had wanted something from him. Nicole Summers and Cass Finnigan just wanted bragging rights that they got with the freak, and Paige had wanted him to be a rock hero. What did you want from him?
“Have you eaten?” It wasn’t exactly late, but it wasn’t really early in the evening either. His uncle always asked him that whenever one of them got home, and it had taken Eddie an embarrassingly long time to realize that it was Wayne’s way of showing that he cared. 
“I could eat.” you replied, which at least gave this... whatever this was, some structure for the night. Eddie didn’t have a lot of cash on him, but he could probably scrape together enough to get you each a burger or something. 
When the Iron Maiden tape clicked off and spat itself out, you took it upon yourself to pull it out and look it over. “Got any other tapes in here? I need to judge your music taste.” 
That made Eddie laugh “You and every other person in this town. I have a few more tapes in here.” He tapped on the center console which you eagerly dug into, flipping through the different cassettes with eagerness. 
“Metal. Metal. Metal. Metal.” You said, going through each cassette one by one. “I’m starting to see a pattern here, Eddie.” 
“What gave it away?” He said deadpan. “Was it that I play guitar or the fact that we’ve only bonded over music so far?”
“And Chris Morrison.”
“And Chris Morrison.”
“It was your hair, actually. You look so much like Eddie Van Halen it’s actually uncanny.” You looked up from the tapes and he could feel your eyes studying his face. He was glad that it was dark out now, as he could feel warmth rising in his cheeks at the comparison. Was that a compliment? Were you into him looking like Van Halen? 
“Van Halen?” Eddie asked. “I figured I was more of a Kirk Hammett type.”
“The hair yes,” you agreed, still staring at his face as he continued to drive. “But your smile is definitely more Van Halen.”
When was the last time someone had ever looked at him with that much consideration before? Something in Eddie’s gut twisted as he glanced over at you for a split second to meet your eyes. Huh, that was weird. Had anyone made him nervous like this before? Yeah he’d been attracted to Paige but this was starting to feel different. 
He really needed a cigarette right about now. 
“I hope that’s a compliment.” Eddie managed to say as he fumbled for the packet of Camels in the cupholder by him. 
“Oh, it is. I promise.” you replied, digging out a lighter and helping him light the smoke in his mouth. The world's tiniest supernova...
Eddie hated that the closest thing he had to compare notes on when it came to a healthy romance was two months with Paige and a handful of movies that he barely watched. 
You went back to his tapes, and seemed to pick one out. You removed the tape that had been spat out, put it back in the appropriate case (which Eddie found himself appreciating), and he was surprised to hear the old riffs of Muddy Waters playing. 
“A palate cleanser.” you said, leaning back into the passenger side seat. 
Eddie felt his mind reeling from your choice of music. Muddy Waters had been how his mom introduced him to rock at a young age. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the well loved tape as he pulled into the drive in of the next fast food joint he’d seen. 
When he pulled up to the window to pay, a fresh ten was shoved in his face before he could even reach for his own wallet. It took a moment for him to realize that you were wanting to pay. 
“You got me out of work early, it’s the least I can do.” you said, not giving him the option to say no as cash was exchanged for a bag of questionable but cheap food. You held the bag in your lap as Eddie started making his way out of town. 
“So is this an ‘eating van’ or a ‘non-eating van’?” you asked, messing with the top of the bag. 
“I think I’d starve if I didn’t eat in here.” Eddie snorted. “Knock yourself out.”
You wasted no time digging into the fries and taking a few for yourself as Eddie went to the only place that he could afford to take you right now that might be date worthy. 
Luckily, Lover’s Lake was quiet and private on weeknights. If Eddie had taken two minutes to plan this better, he would have thought to maybe clear out the back of his van and set out a blanket and have a picnic. When it came to music and D&D he was great at planning out details, with dates? Not so much. 
This isn’t a date. He reminded himself for the hundredth time tonight. She’s just a girl that you ran over to spend time with the second it occurred to you that she might have an interest in you and she really willingly hopped in your van and your friends actually like her-
Shit. This had to be a date right? Neither of you had said the word but that’s what it was... right? 
Eddie was snapped out of his thoughts with the sweet smell of hot potatoes and grease was wafting under his nose. You had shoved a few fries in front of his face and Eddie wasted no time in taking them. You continued to absently feed him fries as he found a spot to park.
The two of you divided up the food on his dashboard, and Eddie rolled down the windows to let the cool autumn air in. 
“So... what are you gonna be for Halloween?” Eddie asked, wincing internally. When was the last time anyone he knew had dressed up for Hallowen? Okay, so Hellfire Club did tend to dress up on Halloween for a special one shot but that was different- no one came to school in costumes anymore.
“It depends on my plans.” you answered. “Halloween is on a Thursday so I’m usually working. If I have a morning shift I’ll probably do zombie makeup for work, if Steve and Robin are working with me that day I think we’re gonna attempt to be Luke, Leia, and Hans.” 
“And are you gonna be Leia?” Eddie asked. 
“Ideally, I wanted to be Chewie but I don’t have the time for that.” you laughed. “Robin and I voted on Steve to Be Leia. Robin will be Luke, and I’ll be Hans Solo with a teddy bear.”
“Please tell me that Harrington isn’t going to be in the bikini.” Eddie laughed. 
“Keith said costumes had to be work appropriate so, sadly, Steve will not be gracing the store with his sweater-vest chest hair under a bra.” You sighed dramatically. “It’s like he hates the idea of us having fun!” 
“What if you have to close?” Eddie prompted, adjusting in his seat to lean against the door to face you as best he could. Next time he was absolutely clearing out the back to give you both more room. 
“Oh, I am not closing.” you said firmly. “And if Keith thinks he can schedule me that day he can suck it because I have plans.” 
You already have Halloween plans. Of course you would. It’s not like you had to worry about school on a weekday like he did. Eddie tried not to deflate in front of you and remained calm. 
“And what plans would that be?” he asked. 
“Have you ever seen The Rocky Horror Picture Show?” you asked, a smile tugging at your lips. 
He had, once, with Reefer Rick a few months ago when picking up his usual supply. A quick pick up had turned into a game of pool, which had turned into the two of them high on Rick’s couch watching an old VHS tape while Rick laughed his ass off and yelled at the tv before passing out in the middle of Tim Curry seducing Brad and Janet. 
“Once.” Eddie said, not giving the exact details of circumstance. “With a friend, I didn’t really get it.” 
“Did you see it in theaters or did you just watch it at home?” you asked, finishing off your food. 
“Friend’s house.” 
“Oh, no wonder you didn’t get it. Rocky Horror is an experience, you can’t just pop the tape in and watch it. You have to come see it in a theater.” As you spoke you were absently folding a napkin in your lap turning it into what looked like a heart. When you were done with that one, you started with another shape with a different napkin. 
“Is that an invitation?” Eddie asked, tearing his eyes away from the way your fingers moved for now. He found his heart pounding in his chest, unsure if you were actually wanting him to come to this, and from the knot forming in his stomach as the shapes you were folding reminded him of the times he met you before. 
“It is.” you confirmed, the ninja star you had shaped with the napkin was placed on the center console as you grabbed another napkin. “...It could also be a date.” 
Despite the period at the end of the sentence, Eddie heard the slight waiver in your voice on the word date. It was that same nervous stammer that had been in Paige’s voice when she offered to let him move in with her in California, it was the same hesitant inflection that one of his Hellfire players used when they weren’t sure if Eddie would approve of what crazy plan they had for their character. 
Aside from that first awkward meeting at the Palace Arcade, you had been pretty confident and upfront with him. Now here you are, laying out your intentions and seeing what he would do. 
What would he do? Eddie had shown up at Family Video with no real plan. He only knew he wanted to see you again, and he knew that Dustin and Steve were trying to set you two up. And it’s not like Eddie was completely against the idea of going on a date with you. You were sharp, and you kept him on his toes, and when you smiled at him it felt like his brain might short out. 
But he had also panicked when he had thought that you were going to kiss him before. After Eddie’s disastrous break up with Paige two years ago, it’s not like he’d been completely against any physical relationships. There had been a grand total of two other hook ups that he’d sabotaged. People weren’t interested in getting to know the freak, they just wanted to say that they had been with him. So both times, Eddie had made sure that he’d been a lousy date and a decent enough lay before deciding that he’d rather had a date with his right hand and a Heavy Metal magazine.
Eddie would rather the rumor mill call him a boring date rather than set a standard that he’d go out with anyone who asked. He wondered if he had, would Steve have put his name on the town marquis for the world to see? Would Eddie ‘the Slut’ Munson be treated any differently than Eddie ‘the Freak’?
Shit, you were still waiting for a response. 
“A date.” Eddie finally managed to echo your last words back at you. The napkin you had been messing with in your hands was now taking the shape of a ninja star. 
“I mean, if you’re interested.” you said quickly. “It could just be a friend thing. Or you probably already have plans for Halloween-”
“I don’t.” Eddie interjected. “It could be a date.”
He watched your shoulders relax and you smiled up at him. “It’s a date then.” You grabbed a napkin and your green marker out of your bag and scribbled something down, handing it over to him. 
“In case your phone blows up again, here is the date and time and location for the Halloween showing of the movie.” your eyes narrowed slightly at him. “And my work schedule has been hectic but I consistently work on Sunday’s and clock out at four.”
Eddie got the message loud and clear, he would know where to find you now. There wouldn’t be any excuses for not reaching out, but two could play at this game. He took the marker from your hand and grabbed his own napkin, scribbling his own phone number down and handing it over to you. 
“I’m at school all week, but I still play at the Hideout on Tuesdays.” He answered back. “Friday is Hellfire.”
With that, the playing field felt a little more level. Both of you now had the power to track the other one down or call when needed.   
“So what are you going to be for Halloween?” you asked, tucking the napkin with his number into your bog. 
“Oh, haven’t you heard? When you’re the town freak every day is Halloween.” Eddie chuckled. 
“So what, you’re gonna put on a polo and khakis instead?” He liked the way you scrunch your nose when you laughed. “Ditch the jewelry and cover your tattoos?” 
“That would probably scare some of the teachers at school.” Eddie had considered doing exactly that, but he really didn’t think he’d want that kind of attention. “No one dresses up at school anymore.”
“Boring.” You sighed. “I tried dressing up for Halloween my senior year but when I got to school my friends convinced me to change clothes.”
Eddie raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem like the type to let other people tell you what to do.” 
“Now I’m not.” you shrugged. “I’m not in high school anymore, and all those people that I saw everyday? Turns out I was only friends with them because I saw them every day. Once you get away from that forced routine you realize that it’s all bullshit.”
Eddie could relate, probably better than anyone else. He was so sick of the day to day hierarchy of highschool that he’d scream it from on top of a table. Literally. 
“What were you trying to be before your friends killed your fun?” Eddie asked. 
“A pirate. It was last minute but I had a bandana, an eyepatch, a sock puppet with feathers glued to it for my parrot, and a wire hanger I was carrying around as a hook.” you laughed at the memory. “I ended up dropping the eyepatch before my friends made me change because I kept running into people. My wire hanger was confiscated, some asshat stole my parrot, and one of my friends gave me a sweater to change into. I didn’t even make it to first period in that outfit.”
Eddie had made it a point to not pay attention to anyone outside of his small group at school, only ever keeping an eye out for lost sheep that didn’t have anywhere else to go. He wondered, if he had seen you that morning in the brief window before you were pushed back into conformity would he have noticed you? Talked to you? You had already been nice to him before. 
“Wait,” Eddie over at you, taking in the picture you had painted for him. “You made a sock puppet parrot?”
“I needed a parrot, or else no one would get it!” you explained. “But then when I took it off and left it to go use the bathroom it was gone. I finally found the thief in fourth period because they kept playing with it and squawking my own parrot at me. But by that point I had just cut my losses and had given up on Halloween.”
“Are you usually this crafty?” Eddie asked, once again looking at the final napkin you were folding into what looked like an old cootie catcher. 
“I get bored easily.” you said. “If I don’t have something to do with my hands I can’t focus.”
“How’d you start with the whole-” Eddie grabbed one of his slightly used napkins and gave it a wave. “Folding thing?”
“Fourth grade show and tell.” you said. “I did not prepare anything and so I spent a full ten minutes in the school library to find something to show. I found a book on origami, found the easiest thing to make and realized that I actually enjoyed it.”
If that was a mystery, it sure did get solved right there. Eddie wanted to ask about Steve and Dustin. He wanted to ask you why him? He could keep his mouth shut, let this whole thing play out and see what happened. Eddie could sit here, and enjoy the fact that a girl was giving him the time of day and leave everything up in the air just like he had with Paige. 
“So I heard you and Steve had a deal going on.” Eddie said. “Something about getting dates?”
You froze for a second, the completed cootie catcher in your hands. Things were dead silent for a grand total of ten seconds. Ten agonizingly long seconds. Even the cassette player had clicked off and was now whirring as it rewind the Iron Maiden tape. 
Then you started laughing. A lot. 
“Jesus, Eddie!” you said, wiping your eyes with the ninja star as a tear threatened to spill down your cheek. “I tell you I have origami as a hobby, and you follow up with ‘So I heard you and Steve are trying to get dates.’ Seriously?”
Eddie remained silent at your reaction, trying to process your laughter. You didn’t seem scared or nervous that he had called you out, and he had to admit that he hadn’t completely thought through the consequences of asking you that question. 
“Who blabbed?” You asked, after your laughter had calmed down. 
“Henderson.” Eddie admitted and, in an attempt to ease any lingering tension he leaned forward to rest his elbow on the center console and held his chin in his hand as he looked at you. “That shrimp informed me that you found me so irresistible that you begged Steve to set you up with me.”
“Is that right?” You asked, raising an eyebrow. 
“Oh yeah,” Eddie agreed. “Told me all about how ever since Chris Morrison shot you down, you’ve been desperate to get my attention to get back at him.”
“So which is it, am I attracted to you or am I using you to get back at a guy I talked to once in high school years ago?” you asked. Eddie saw a glint in your eyes, the same one he’d seen that first night at the arcade when at the air hockey table. 
“Both are true.” Eddie continued to explain, a shit eating grin on his face. “You see, you were originally going to use me to get back at Chris, but then you saw me play guitar and instantly fell in love.”
“Damn, this sounds like the plot of a terrible movie.” you laughed. “So is this the part where I tell you that ‘It started out like that, but I swear it’s not like that anymore!’? Do I beg on my knees that my feelings for you are genuine, even though we’ve hung out a grand total of two-and-a-half times?”
Five times, but who’s counting? 
“What’s the half-time?” Eddie asked. 
“You ditched me at the arcade after I said I’d be right back.” you stated matter-of-factly. “I’m hoping it’s not a pattern where you start dropping off the face of the earth just when things start getting good.”
“Between you and me,” Eddie leaned in closer. “I thought Dustin was trying to set me up with Steve. Not you.” 
Cue more laughter from you as you threw your head back. “Are you kidding me?! Dustin makes me and Steve show up to an arcade and tries to force a meeting with you- and you thought you were supposed to be dating Steve?!” 
“Not dating!” Eddie clarified quickly. “You see, Steve and I only have one thing in common and that’s Dustin Henderson. Kid practically worships Steve. I thought he was trying to get us to be friends or something.”
“Oh my god, you thought Dustin was trying to hook his two dads up!” Your cootie catcher was now crumpled up in your hands, stained with tears from your laughing. “I’m a homewrecker!” 
Yeah, this really wasn’t going the way Eddie had expected it. 
“Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry.” you said, your laughter calming down into giggles instead. “Have I been reading this whole thing wrong? I mean, if you have more of an interest in Steve I could probably set that up. He’s only ever shown interest in girls but you have long hair and are pretty enough-”
“No.” Eddie said. “I don’t have an interest in Steve- you think I’m pretty?” How were you able to throw him off so easily? He could tell that if you had been able to join Hellfire you would have been a menace at his table.
“Extremely.” you said, your voice more sincere now. 
The two of you just stared at each other for a while and Eddie felt that same twisty feeling in his gut again. You thought he was pretty. That was good, right? Did you like pretty boys? You were pretty- he liked that a lot. 
“I...” Eddie started and then dug deep inside himself to find the words he wanted to use. “Prettier than Steve?” Those were not the words he wanted to say, but he said them anyway. 
“Steve is conventionally attractive but, as I said before, not my type.” you said. “I like guys with long hair anyway.”
Eddie really couldn’t tell if he was nailing this or blowing it. “So, what is your type?” 
“I’ll tell you mind if you tell me yours.” you countered. 
Had Eddie ever really thought about what his type was? Yeah, he’d had ill-advised crushes and had been attracted to various women in comics and tv but did he have a type? He tried to connect all the girls in his mind that he’d been with, trying to find a pattern. 
Someone who actually pays attention to me. That’s pretty sad, Eddie. He came to the conclusion. Yeah, aside from his disastrous kiss with Ronnie five years ago, every girl he’d been with had been the one to show interest first, and you were no exception. But had he actually had feelings for the others? Not really. Attraction? Yeah. Feelings? Well, with Paige he had been far too busy dealing with Corroded Coffin, his dad, and school to really decide what he felt for Paige. Any other small flings had been dead on arrival.
So why did he keep wanting to spend time with you?
“Don’t go spreading this around,” Eddie started. “But if I had to pick a type, it’d be She-Hulk.” 
“She-Hulk?” you mulled that over in your mind. “So tall, green, and angry?” 
“Strong-willed, and funny as shit.” Eddie corrected. 
“And green.”
“And green.” 
“If I had known that earlier I would have picked Kermit the Frog as my Halloween costume this year.” you teased. “I don’t have a character off the top of my head, but I like people who feel.. Real.”
Real. The word that Paige and him had used over and over in those two months. 
“What’s real to you?” 
“Not high school.” you said. “Someone who’s not afraid to exist and be themselves. I’m most attracted to anyone who can let go of their desperate ego and just have fun. High school was boring because everyone was so wrapped up in their own bs of looking cool that they didn’t do anything that they actually wanted to do. Shit, even I fell into that.”
Eddie didn’t want to ask if he was real to you. He wasn’t sure if he was ready for an answer. There were lots of times he wished that he wasn’t still in school, but this time really hit harder. He was starting to really like you, and yeah part of him was terrified of that. 
The two of you finished off the last of your food and Eddie shoved all the leftover trash into the brown bag and tossed it in the back so you wouldn’t be stepping on it. 
“I don’t know much about real anymore, but I think you’re pretty badass.” Eddie finally said. “I mean, you brought a wire hanger and a fake parrot to school for a costume. That’s pretty brave, even if your friends did talk you out of it.”
“I’m more mad that the parrot was stolen and used to annoy me than the lack of costume.” you said with a small laugh. “They weren’t even funny. They just kept repeating what I said. It was easier to just shut up at that point.” 
“Didn’t think to make them say anything embarrassing?” 
“Oh, I tried. But, jocks don’t know the art of a good ‘Duck Season, Rabbit Season’ gag. Anything embarrassing I said they’d just turn it around. I’d say ‘I pissed myself in gym.’ they’d reply with ‘you pissed yourself in gym’. No love for comedy.” You took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. “If you’re going to be a bully, at least give me a good story to tell later, you know?”
“I once got slammed against a locker by a jock who called me ‘a myriad freak.” Eddie said. “To this day, I still don’t know what he was trying to mean by that.”
“See? At least that’s funny.” you said, and then. “Holy shit, we’ve gotten off topic.” 
“There was a topic?” Eddie leaned back on the seat again. 
“Yes, an important one that I was very interested in before we started talking about bullies and high school and She-Hulk.” you nodded. 
Talking to you was so easy that he hadn’t realized how many topics the two of you had blown through in a short amount of time. He looked at his watch real quick and realized it was creeping towards 11 pm now. Had the two of you really been talking that long?
“What topic was it?” 
“You flirting with me.” you said, your lips pulling back in a cheshire grin. “I’m pretty sure you were at least, before I became a homewrecker between you and Steve. Normally I’d hate to break up a happy family, but I might have to make an exception this one time.”
“Was I flirting?” Eddie tilted his head with his own grin. “I’m pretty sure I was just telling you that I thought Dustin was trying to make me be friends with Steve. If I had known that the shrimp was trying to introduce me to a cute girl-” He would have shot it down and canceled Side Quest Day- “I wouldn’t have left the way I did.”
“You think I’m cute?” 
“Extremely.” 
You nodded. “Alright, then it’s a good thing that we’re going on a date. I’m glad to know that I’m not coming between you and Steve.”
It was just past midnight when Eddie dropped you off at your apartment that night. This time when you leaned over the center console towards him, he didn’t freeze up or panic. Eddie let you hug him and he hugged you back, his cheeks growing hot momentarily when he felt your lips press against his cheek and he was able to breathe in your scent. 
“See you later, Eddie. Oh, and for the movie- I highly recommend dressing up.” you looked him up and down. “Actually, just wear what you’d normally wear. I think you’ll fit right in.” 
Eddie made a mental note to ask Rick later on what he was supposed to wear for this. 
“I’ll call you.” he said. “I promise. I mean it this time.”
“Not if I call you first, I have your number now. And worst case scenario, I know where you play.” you responded. “See you Tuesday, Eddie.” 
And with that you were gone again, leaving Eddie alone in the van feeling much better than the last time he had given you a ride. There were still questions he had. He still wanted to know why exactly everyone was wanting the two of them to meet again, and why you always so readily agreed to meet up with him. But those were questions for another day. 
“You had a missed call.” Wayne said as Eddie made his way into the trailer. “Didn’t leave a name or number. Said she’d call you back.”  
Eddie laughed and shook his head, guess you meant it when you said you’d call first. 
“Don’t stay up too late watching tv.” Eddie said before heading towards his bedroom. He once again found himself falling asleep with his copy of The Hobbit, the origami flower tucked safely in the back. 
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Next Chapter
Ending note: This fic takes place during October 1985. Stephen King’s It did not come out until September 1986. I would like to ask you all politely to suspend your disbelief for the historical inaccuracy of a piece of dialogue that probably didn’t add much to the plot. If this horrible inaccuracy bothers you, please repeat to yourself “it’s just a fic, I should really just relax” which is what most of us should be doing anyway.
Dividers by: @strangergraphics
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h0ney-mochi · 2 years ago
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a little kunikuzushi brainrot from the anon who sent the kissing scara ask ...... i just NEED someone to talk to about this ughh
okay. he's, of course, innocent as ever, so this one time when he comes across a ✨spicy✨ moment in some book he'd been reading, kuni doesn't understand what's happening in that scene. so he comes to you for help!
when he asks about it, you chuckle awkwardly and try to avoid explaining it to him, but kuni's eager to learn and doesn't want to give up easily. he's so cute omg
my brain has a limit, so what would you do?
(also, you seem like a pretty cool person! can i be 🧋 anon?)
Kunikuzushi x reader ;; readers pronouns not mentioned
SUGGESTIVE CONTENT (it's mainly sfw, but at the end it gets a little suggestive)
Summary: Kunikuzushi spends some of his time reading. His pure, innocent self comes across a.. scene, which he doesn't really understand, but from the sentences it's good..? So he comes to you, asking for your help on it. How could you deny him when he's so eager to know..?
A/n: WELCOME 🧋 ANON <33 Thank u sm for the ask!! I like to think I'm pretty alright :)) I don't think I wrote this well ahh.... 🙌
This made me think, a little hard to write on the explaining, so that part is a little messy.. but ahhh, explaining to lil innocent kuni what the scene is... his flushed reaction... aah~ the possibilities?!
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Minor writer, dni if uncomfortable!
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You're just relaxing in your room, writing some things down on a small paper. That's when you heard footsteps and the door open. You turn around and see that it's Kunikuzushi. You noticed that he had a book in hand. You greet him, asking what brings him to you, while you go back to your paper.
He walks next to you and sits down on the chair next to the desk. "Well I- there's this scene in the book and I don't understand.. it..?" He quickly opens up the book again and you put your pen down. Kuni shows you and you take it in your hands, reading. It takes you a moment to realize you're reading one of those spicy scenes. You stop reading as you widen your eyes, looking at him, back at the words and then back at him.
You put the book back in front of him, awkwardly laughing. "Well, that's- It's not really important, so you can just continue in the book," you say, smiling slightly at him, "It's not the the end, is it?" He nods, but continues to speak, "Well, yeah, but I want to know. She describes it as-" "I very well read what she described it as, Kuni," you chuckle, tapping your fingers against the desk, "But it's something you can learn later in life, you know-?"
"Why can't you just tell me?" He stares with a confused look, "Is it really that bad? The author certainly doesn't write it like that-" You let out a sigh, thinking, staring at the book. He leans down to meet your gaze, "Please?" You look at him. Is it really worth telling this pure soul what he just read? Well, his curiosity is adorable.. Oh dear. He won't back away that easily, so might as well just get over it, no?
"Alright, um," you start, clearing your throat, "Give me the book again." Kuni gives it to you and you head to the page. You read through the start of the scene and then a bit after, quickly grasping on what exactly you're about to explain to him. You're not sure if he genuinely does not know anything or maybe he knows something, just a little.. you hope he does, would ease your mind..
You start speaking, asking 'simple' questions first, such as how much does he know about anything related, and all that jazz. You're regretting everything as you're proven again that no, he does not know.
And so you explain. Bit by bit, you try your best to tell him that yes, that's seggs, and yes, a man has his dick inside a woman in the scene. And yes that they both receive pleasure. You tried your best, yet you had no idea what the fuck were you trying to say. But the more you tried to explain, the more you noticed his face getting hotter. He asks questions, you answer them.
At some point you shut up completely, seeing Kunikuzushi put his hands on his face for a moment. "Are you okay?? I know this is a very awkward topic, I don't know if I'm even telling you something," you chuckle a little. He takes his hands away and swallows. Kuni looks back at you, shifting in his seat, "..And how do they- how does that feel?" You blink. Thinking for a moment, you respond, "Well, it usually feels good, the author wrote it as.. well, we both read it."
"Have you done it?" His gaze is unfocused. You shake your head, "No, but I've read of it, maybe seen it, and few of my friends speak of it." It's silent, Kuni being lost in thought. Then he whispers an "Could we try it?" Your eyes widen at that. He looks at you with a pleading look, "Pleaase? I want to know how that is.." "Kuni, this is something you should really think about first-" You quickly respond, but he interrupts you.
"Please?"
..You can't say no to that, can you?
So with few more sentences, and him being eager to have you show him, you and him were on the bed. Your hand held his face as you told him how to kiss, Kuni immediately pressing his lips against yours when you stop talking.
Then you had him part his lips, so you could show him more how a kiss can be. Your hand on his cheeks, the other at his waist. In between kisses, he's telling you how he's feeling weirder and hotter. Each of your soft touch on his body was making him shudder and make noise in your mouth.
"Are you sure?" You ask again, hand tracing his arm. He nods quickly, "Yes, yes, please." So you continued. You laid down while telling Kuni what to do, telling him that yes, you can touch that, yeah you can touch that as well. It seemed like he couldn't focus though, too much information, too much of your touch, your words, you. His hands were a little shaky, he was flushed and his eyes always went from your eyes to your body. After a moment, he just mumbled out an 'It's too much..'
You nodded, saying it's completely fine. You understand. You laid him down and got on top, indulging him another kiss. His hands went on your shoulders, moaning in the kiss when your hand trailed down his stomach. Kuni pulls away, bucking his hips, "Lower.. please, touch me-" So you did. And his head falls back as a whine comes through. You press a kiss to his cheek, "I'll show you what they did, alright?"
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