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#i just... need a place to put my thoughts
emmyrosee · 1 day
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Fluffy fluffy prompt to hubby sukuna or whom ever you choose “awnn my poor baby come here” then he slowly walks towards you rubbing his eyes all soft and tired 🥺
There’s a low grumble behind you that snaps you out of your slicing of fruit, but you merely brush it off before moving onto the next strawberry.
Then, the grumble ripples through the air again, and you keep slicing, trying your best to ignore the noise.
It happens a third time. You giggle, “what, baby?” You put the knife down and turn to face Sukuna, arms crossing over your chest as you look him up and down.
He looks childish, with the comforter wrapped around his shoulders and hair ruffled around messily. His eyes are puffy from sleep and his cheeks hold a little flush, but his lips are still pouted in a scowl. “You left me alone in bed,” he grumbles. “I told you not to do that. Bed gets too cold.”
“Is that the only reason you don’t like me leaving the bed?” You ask, knowing the real answer. But you also know he’ll never say it. He’s stubborn like that.
He offers you a roll of his eyes, “yes, and I hate the cold. You’re aware of this.”
“My poor baby,” you tease, opening your arms for him to shamble into. “C’mere. Let me warm you back up from the mean, evil, cold covers.”
“You’d better,” he murmurs, stalking towards you and into your arms. He opens his own to reveal the corners of the blanket balled into his big fists, and when he embraces you, you’re shrouded in darkness but melting into the warmth that his chest brews. Your laugh softly, and burrow into his chest, which rumbles with a hum in confusion. "Somethin' funny under there?"
"Just dark," you say, wrapping your arms around his waist and gently squeezing him out of cute aggression. "I also can't really breathe, so-"
"Good," he says, resting his head on top of yours, tightening his arms to keep you in place. "Won't have to deal with your ass leaving the bed, messing up my sleep." You laugh some more, only to send a few pokes to his waist, making him jerk away from you and loosen his hold.
"Who's gonna cuddle you at night then?"
"I'm a man, I don't need cuddles."
When you do, however, try to get out of his arms, he grumbles and pulls you tighter again, with an annoyed grunt. "No."
"That's what I thought, Sukuna."
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rising-starrr · 3 days
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Ride him till he cries ! — Choso Kamo
warnings: soft dom Choso, riding him, reverse cowgirl, beginning to tear up, pet names; baby, my love, love-making, breast grabbing, slight somnophilia(?)
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riding him first thing in the morning !/🌽 link
Choso Kamo
You were dating Choso, and with him being half human, half curse, he didn’t understand most things that humans did. Like when you did your facemask, or skin routine in general, he was always confused.
He would normally participate in your routines, to get the feeling of something new that he's never experienced. There would even be times where he'd try to make up his own routines to match yours.
He thinks it's out of love and affection, because coming from him, it most definitely is out of love and affection. He loves you so much and needed to be by your side.
Well, now he was asleep in your shared bed, while you were taking a shower, humming as you got out and discovered your baby was still asleep.
You'll wake him up with something special, and maybe even a breakfast later on. You hum, knowing you'll have to take another shower, but you'll be able to take it with him!
You hum as you put on your pajamas, seeing him slowly waking up, meaning it's time for your plan to begin. You know the pajamas you had on, are Choso's favorite pair.
You hum as you crawl on top of him. He doesn't realize that you're on top of him. Well not yet of course, you hum as you pull his boxers down.
You sit there to admire his cock for a moment before turning around so your back was facing him, moving your shorts and underwear over. He hums as he looks at you, his eyes barely open as he attempts to process what was going on.
Choso lets out a groan as he feels you go down onto him. His hand travels to your waist, to steady you. You begin to ride him, humming as you placed your hands onto his thighs.
You haven't even noticed that he's really awake, you just thought he was putting his hand on your waist like he normally does when he's asleep.
He was staring at you the whole time you bounced on his dick, you've never done that while he was awake, so what's the occassion now?
He grabbed your waist with both hands, and just controlled the pace as he bounced you on his dick.
He winced as he threw his head back, whimpering as he continued to bounce you on his dick, you finally realized that he was awake, so you decide to take advantage of the situation.
Placing your hands onto his, and began to bounce on him faster, and harder, allowing his tip to hit your cervix.
His eyes became teary as you continued bouncing, you look back to see his tears, slightly worried you stop, as you move yourself off him and cup his face. “Cho, baby are you okay?”
You questioned, wiping his tears as you kissed his forehead. He nodded as he looked at you. “You didn't get to cum - 'M sorry baby, can I make you cum still?” He asked, looking down at your hips.
“When I get back home, we can have all the time in the world for you to make me cum baby, I love you” You murmur, as you lay on his chest. He kisses your forehead and mutters a soft 'i love you' back.
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If You Cared to Ask
Azriel hasn't been listening. You got hurt. Sometimes, an argument can't be boiled down to just one instance.
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“You never listen! I have tried over and over to get you to understand but it’s like you don’t even care.”
Azriel’s brow twitched in irritation, the only tell on his otherwise passive face. “That is not true. We have sat down and discussed this at length, y/n. I listen.” 
You laughed, an incredulous pressure weighing down your shoulders. “Okay, fine. You listen, but you never hear me, Azriel! I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall most of the time.” 
“I can reiterate every word you’ve ever said to me. I hear you and I listen to you.” 
Anger twisted through your gut at his nonchalance. You clenched and unclenched your fists and tried to ignore the heat slowly encroaching upon your ability to remain composed. Although, compared to Azriel, you were not even close to the picture of calm. 
“Tell me why it bothers me then,” you seethed through clenched teeth. “Reiterate it for me, Shadowsinger.” 
Azriel’s jaw shifted as he clasped his hands together in his lap, the faelight in the kitchen clashing harshly with the planes of his face. He leaned back in his chair and let out a tortured sigh that almost sent you reeling. 
“You seem to believe,” Azriel began, his voice a low drawl. “That I am blatantly avoiding you—that I am choosing to serve my high lord in place of spending time with you. Both of which, I am not doing. I simply have a duty to this court, y/n. You know that.” 
“Oh, fuck you, Azriel,” you rolled your eyes. “Making this about duty and honor. Making me seem like I’m the crazy one for being angry when you promised me—” 
“You know there is little I can do about promises,” Azriel snapped, a hint of anger finally showing through in the darkness of his eyes. “You knew when we were mated that I have responsibilities that go beyond our relationship.” 
You pushed back from your seat at the table and set to pacing in the kitchen, fighting the urge to tug at the roots of your hair. “Yes, obviously, Azriel, but this was so important to me. I needed you there and this isn’t the first time I’ve been abandoned without even a word.” 
“Abandoned,” Azriel scoffed. “I would hardly call not showing up to your clinic at the camps one day abandoning you. Rhys needed me to—” 
“I needed you!” you shouted, your hands pressed to the countertops and your gaze frantic as you stared at Azriel’s unmoving figure. “I needed you, Azriel. I had every eye on me in that camp and when Devlon’s men had me yanked from the clinic for what I was doing I needed you to—” 
“He did what?” 
“Oh, don’t act like you care now.” You waved off the staunch posture he had adopted and rolled your eyes for a second time at the piercing hatred that had taken over his expression. “Don’t you dare act like you have the right.” 
“You are my mate, y/n. If anyone put their hands on you—” 
“Well, they did. Bruised up my arms and everything. But you were so busy with your duty to your high lord that you couldn’t give a shit until after I was thrown into the mud surrounded by the women I was supposed to be helping up there.” 
Azriel’s hands turned white as he clenched them in his lap. His lashes fluttered and his brow furrowed and he looked utterly lost at the situation—unable to formulate any kind of response to what could be considered his failure. 
“I thought you were simply setting up the back rooms. I didn’t know you were starting the practice or speaking to the camp,” he croaked, eyes downcast and searching the floor. 
“Except I told you I was. I told you two weeks ago and then again right before I left.” 
“I—I can’t remember you saying that.” 
“Of course you can’t. Because if it isn’t Rhys giving you orders or Cassian leading training you’re absent. You stand right in front of me and you’re not even here.”
Azriel finally looked up from the ground and met your eyes with the same torture his sigh made you privy to earlier. But this time it was rooted in something else—this time, he seemed to finally grasp the weight behind your words. 
But you were utterly sick of trying to get him to this point. “I’m so sorry, my love,” he expressed, pain in the furrow of his brow. “I hadn’t realized—with Rhys just returning to Velaris I’ve been so caught up in—” 
“I’m sorry too,” you cut him off. 
Azriel froze. “What?” 
You bit the inside of your cheek and felt the dread begin to rise. You knew you were going to hate this part, but you hadn’t expected Azriel to apologize. He hadn’t apologized for anything in months. You’d been alone in this relationship and he chose the day you’d packed your bags to show remorse.
“I can’t do this, Azriel. Not right now.” 
“Can’t do what?” 
The silence in the kitchen was oppressive. Azriel had leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and you were on the other side of the kitchen counter, protected by a barrier you knew you should have put up weeks ago. Your eyes never left his. 
“I can’t do this with you.” 
Azriel breathed in sharply, his eyes widening. “No,” he stressed, heaving up from the chair. “No, y/n, don’t—what do you mean you can’t do this? Explain it to me.” 
Your mate attempted to round the counter and reach for you, but you weren’t going to accept the affection…not when you had been begging for it for months. Not when he was only ready to give it to you now.
You backpeddled until you reached the hall. Azriel didn’t follow, afraid you would take off. 
“I’ve been telling you this was a problem for months now. I thought it was just an adjustment period—I knew that having Rhys back would change things at first and I was okay with that. Your brother returned from hell and you needed to be there to support him. To support your family. 
“But I’m your family, too. And you forgot that. I can’t—I can’t be relying on someone like that right now. I’m doing too much at the camps for you to… forget about me so easily. I can’t keep building you up in my mind just to be disappointed and hurt.” 
Azriel's jaw quivered. 
“Emotionally and physically. I would’ve asked someone else to come to the clinic with me yesterday, but I chose you. And you forgot about me.” 
Azirel looked as if he’d been punched in the stomach, his shoulders caving in with his anguished breath out. You pressed your lips together as you watched him, all of your anger morphing into a twisted sort of guilt that didn’t sit right in your gut. 
“Please,” Azriel whispered. His hands shook at his side. “Please, I’m so sorry, my love. I never wanted—Please, don’t leave me.” 
“You don’t get to have both, Azriel.” Your voice was as weak as his. “You don’t get to have me and treat me like I’m something you deal with on the side. I matter more than— 
Azriel shook his head and broke through your words. “You matter more than anything. I’ve been a fool. I know I’m an ass. Please, let me fix this, my love. Please don’t leave.” 
You clenched your fists so hard your nails embedded into your palms. 
“I need time to be alone.” 
Azriel was quick to nod. “I’ll give it to you. I’ll leave and—” 
“No, I need… more time than that. I have some things packed. I’ll be back, but… I need to leave. I can’t think clearly around you.” 
A choked cry left Azriel’s throat and the sound burned at your waterline. “Where?” 
You only shook your head. 
“Tell me where. Please. How am I supposed to know you’re safe?” 
“How were you supposed to know before?” 
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starsinthesky5 · 1 day
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why do you like me so much then? || joe burrow x reader
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description: why do you like him so much? everything you said made him sound like a lackluster boyfriend, so why did you like him so much?
a/n: this is either really bad, chaotic, all over the place, or just yapping. sorry. the fact that this was supposed to be a blurb?? yeah. i cannot write blurbs LOL.
thanks to @joeyb1989 and my anons for giving me inspo for this! and to joe with that sexy, bratty eyebrow raise that I can never move on from
word count: 9.2 k
warnings: angstttt, smutttt, fluff
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3 hours. That's how long it took you to get ready tonight.
You spent an uncharacteristic amount of time carefully positioning each strand of your hair, ensuring that each piece was perfectly curled and set. You made sure every piece of jewelry from your delicate necklaces to your sparkling earrings and bracelets, all of which were gifted by your boyfriend, shimmered in the warm light and reflected a soft glow. Each stroke of makeup had to look flawless to complete the look, your eye shadow blending in seamlessly as you perfected your small winged eyeliner. The silk sage green slip-on dress you wore–with a delicate lace trim–fit your body like a glove; highlighting every aspect of your beautiful figure perfectly. 
You looked amazing and you felt amazing for the first time in a long time. The past few weeks had been filled with strangeness and ambiguity and you were in desperate need of a change of pace. The strangeness came from how you and Joe had been a bit distant from each other lately, which was uncommon for you two. You were constantly attached at the hip, utterly fixated on each other to the point where the mere thought of being apart would lead to a state of misery and endless complaining. But this past month, you couldn’t be more disconnected from each other. Joe had been so wrapped up with football training this past month to the point where it felt like you two barely saw each other, and that didn't sit well with either of you. You always used to make so much time for each other no matter what, but recently it felt like you two stopped trying.
Every time you thought of planning something to do together such as a little lunch date at your favorite cafe, or a relaxed hike around the park, even just ordering takeout and eating together on the couch while watching a movie, it would always get moved or put off till the next week because Joe had something come up. Either it was more training (which was understandable), more brand shoots (somewhat understandable), or even because he wanted to hang out with the guys--completely not understandable. 
You were never the kind of girlfriend who would keep her boyfriend away from his friends, especially because you actually really liked Joe's friends and greatly appreciated the support they gave him, but when he started using them as an excuse to pass on spending time with you, that's when you became a bit bitter. You were the most understanding person when it came to the things Joe had going on in his life. You knew that he had a lot on his plate and couldn't always be fully present for you, but he always tried his best to be. Or at least he used to. 
Passing on training and brand-related work was hard, but passing on hanging out with his friends once or twice so he could go through with the plans he made with his girlfriend was fairly easy. 
It should be easy, right?
But Joe didn’t do that. He instead moved your plans to hang out with them, and that hurt. He said that you could do the lunch date, hike, or takeout food & movie evening later on, but that 'later' rarely came around. He would just get swamped with more things and you'd be so focused on your work that you couldn't bother to bring up the subject again. 
Joe noticed your increased irritation as well, but he just never said anything because he didn’t feel like it was anything serious, just you in a mood. He wasn't sure what made you so resentful all of a sudden, but he knew better than to argue with you about your sudden mood swings, especially because he knew there could be over 100 reasons for them and didn't really want to set you off even more by pointing it out. 
What Joe did notice was that you two hadn't had much one-on-one time like that recently–completely oblivious to the fact that's exactly why you were so bitter–so he decided to take the first step and offer to take you to dinner at the end of the week. You were so excited when he proposed the idea of going to dinner on Friday, looking forward to spending some much-needed quality time with the person you loved the most. He told you that he'd take you to this new steakhouse in Downtown Cincinnati and then he'd take you down to the banks so you two could lay against the grassy field and look up at the stars together, something you used to do every weekend during the off-season but something had slowly fizzled out as time went by and your weekends became a bit more intense. 
"Every star in the universe reminds me of how much I love you. You’re not just a part of my world; you are the center of my galaxy, and everything else revolves around the love we share," is what he told you the first time you went stargazing. Those special words have stuck with you ever since, especially the part about how you’re the center of his galaxy, but lately, it started to feel like the center of his galaxy had shifted to something other than you. You couldn't figure out when things shifted; those genuine, pacifying moments you two shared became scarily rare. In the back of your mind, you felt like you were losing him. Even though you weren't, it just felt like it, and that was the worst feeling out of them all. Nothing you did or he did made that thought go away. What you didn't or he didn't do is what made it worse. 
You were determined to use this date as a way to move things back on track in your relationship, hopefully even talking about how off things had been lately, so that’s why you dedicated an unusual three hours to primping and preparing. Despite your efforts to achieve perfection, Joe’s love for you was unwavering, regardless of your appearance. He adored your natural beauty, free of makeup, and cherished your tousled, messy hair. He found you just as enchanting in your old gray sweats and one of his worn-out college t-shirts that made you look oh-so tiny. You knew how indifferent he was to perfection, but you wanted everything to be excellent tonight, even if he didn't need it to be. You needed this. 
You were filled with anticipation as you imagined walking into the restaurant with him, the warmth of his hand in yours. You could almost taste the first sip of wine, feel the soft buzz it would bring, and sense the rush of emotions as you immerse yourself in the familiar and comforting bubble of your love for each other. You needed to feel that again so badly.
You took one final look in the mirror, "Damn, I look good. He’s going to love this," you whispered to yourself as your eyes navigated up and down your figure before giving yourself a small nod of approval and exiting the bathroom. You grabbed your white chanel handbag which was one of the many birthday gifts he had gotten you last month and made your way out of the shared bedroom and down the stairs, a big smile on your face as you were expecting an adorable, dressed, and ready Joe awaiting your arrival. But as you reached the last few steps, your smile dropped as you were met with the exact opposite. 
You were met with a Joe dressed in gray sweatpants and an old LSU tee whose back was facing you while he was sitting on the couch, had his headset on, and was playing video games on the TV. 
"Today is Friday, right?" you whispered to yourself as you pulled your phone to read the date, which showed that it was in fact Friday and you weren't crazy.
"Joe?" you called out as you slipped your phone back into your bag, slowly walking down the couple of steps you had left with a look of sheer confusion on your face. He didn't hear you, but you heard him.
"Aye, man. What the fuck?" he said loudly as he started aggressively pushing the buttons on his game controller. "How the hell did you get to level 10 when it's only been a week since the last time we played?".
His friends. He was playing with his friends. 
"Of course," you scoffed as you walked over to the living room where he was, throwing your handbag onto the dining table before calling out for him again. "Joe?.... Joeeeee?" you said louder from behind him, but he still didn't look back at you. 
"He has to be fucking ignoring me. There is no way his headset is this soundproof," you thought to yourself as you shook your head and walked around the couch to come into his view. 
Joe looked over and saw you walking towards him, his eyes giving you a quick once-over before settling on your soft eyes which had a slow burning fire behind them. "You look nice," he mumbled to you before looking back at the TV. While he may not have looked directly at you, his words were genuine–he couldn't help but admire your alluring beauty.
“....Thanks...,” you replied with a dubious tone. “Did you forget that it’s Friday?” you asked him as you looked over at the screen and then back down to him, no response yet again. 
“No, don’t go that way,” he warned his friends through the headset, completely ignoring what you just asked him.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you thought to yourself again.
“Joe? Hellooo?” you called out again but waved your hands for him to see you from the corner of his eye, which he did but didn’t say anything. You were becoming increasingly annoyed with his lack of attention towards you, especially since you knew he could see you and see that you were trying to get his attention. 
"Do you need something?" he finally asked as he moved one side of his headset off his ear, still too focused on the game and his friends to focus in on your conversation. 
"Do I need something? Yes, I fucking need something. I need my boyfriend to go on our date with me which he promised to take me on," you thought to yourself, wanting nothing more than to scream into a pillow.
"Baby, it's Friday," you took a deep breath and said, crossing your arms as you tried to prevent yourself from flipping out on him.
"Yeah, I know," he softly laughed, putting the headset back on again and going back to the game, not even bothering to wait and listen if you had anything else to say, which you did.
You were absolutely dumbfounded by his actions; it was clear that he was intentionally overlooking you. Joe knew you wouldn't bother him like this without a good reason, especially during his video game time with his high school buddies, so his behavior was completely unjustified. 
"Did he forget?" you thought to yourself, feeling your heart break a little at the thought. There was no way he forgot, right? He was the one who planned this date, how could he forget?
Your expression softened as you asked him, "Did you forget?". You didn't really want to hear his response because deep down, you already knew the answer. Admitting it meant that he actually forgot about you.
But you didn't need to hear his response because there was no response. 
You looked back and forth between him and the TV, seeing how he was practically looking right through you and pretending as if you weren’t standing there in the most date-night outfit ever. Joe was oblivious sometimes, but he wasn’t that oblivious.  
“Fuck this,” you mumbled, deciding to take matters into your own hands since he wasn't listening and didn't look like he was planning on listening. You walked over to the TV, grabbed the plug from the outlet behind it, and yanked it so hard that you could've pulled out the entire electrical system in the wall. 
"Y/N, what the hell?" you heard from behind you, as well as the sound of Joe taking his headset off and throwing it down onto the couch. 
"Oh, so now you acknowledge my presence?" you rolled your eyes and sighed heavily. 
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked you, his eyebrows furrowed as if he was genuinely confused. 
"What do you think? I called out your name like 4 times and got no response. Then when I actually got your attention, or I thought I did, you didn't even answer my question fully and brushed me off like I was just some girl," you said as you walked closer to him, the built-up bitterness inside of you begging to be released. 
"You're not just some girl," he shook his head. "You're my girlfri-," he began to say before you interrupted him. 
"Oh yeah? Then act like I am. I asked you a question and you completely ignored it and ignored me," you grumbled as you gave him a look that he instantly knew meant you were genuinely pissed off. 
"What do you mean? I did answer your question," he shrugged. 
"Fucking barely? I told you it was Friday and was hoping that would ring a bell but it didn't, and then I asked you if you forgot but you had already put your dumb fucking headset on and either didn't hear me or didn't want to hear me," you snarled, rolling your shoulders back as the tension in your body increased and put a strain on your upper body. 
"Ohhh, it's Friday? So what?" he sarcastically laughed while shaking his hands, then stood up and practically towered over you. You hated when he did this whenever you two got into a little disagreement, it felt like he was showing the power he had over you and made you feel 10 times smaller. 
"Are you serious?" you asked, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks and your eyes beginning to well up with tears. It wasn't sadness that caused the tears, but a deep sense of anger. 
"What did I forget hmm? Because I'm pretty sure that I already did the laundry, cleaned up the kitchen from lunch, ordered the groceries, and watered your plants outside," he asked, the bratty tone in his voice making you want to scream into a pillow and then proceed to hit him with said pillow. 
You felt your bottom lip tremble as your entire body felt a wave of sadness overpower the anger you were feeling. 
He really forgot. 
He didn't forget to do all the other things that weren’t that big of a deal, but what he did forget was the most important thing.
"Our...our date, Joe?" you choked out, feeling a tear fall from your eye it felt like the world went silent. "Our fucking date," you said again, this time with more anger in your voice, wiping the tear trail from your cheek. So much for your flawless makeup. 
Joe's heart immediately sank at the mention of the word 'date.' He had completely forgotten about the plans you had made, the plans he had made. How could he have forgotten something like this? He knew how important this date was; it was the first time in a long time that you two got to spend alone time together away from everything. Even though he never said it, he felt awful that each time you tried to plan something together, it was pushed back for some reason and never thought about again. 
His eyes softened as he realized why you were mad, "Y/N, I'm so sorry...I forgot," he said. 
You remained quiet for a few seconds, trying to calm yourself by taking a few deep breaths but that wasn't really working. "I shouldn't be surprised you forgot, you know? I've been practically invisible to you this past month," you scoffed, a few more tears falling from your eyes unknowingly. 
"Invisible?" Joe questioned, a bit taken aback by your harsh response. Yeah, he had been spending less time with you lately, but in no way were you invisible to him. 
"Yeah, invisible. It's like I'm just not here. You've been basically avoiding spending time with me and the one time you offer to plan something, you conveniently forget. Spare me, Joe," you shook your head and said. 
"Woah, I wouldn't say I'm avoiding spending time with you?" he said as he took a step closer to you. "I've been busy, you know I've been busy,".
"I get that, but what about those times when you ditched doing something with me so you could do something with the guys? I understand if it’s because of training and stuff but getting ditched for your friends? That hurts. Especially when we already had plans but you moved them and little old me always went along with it because I didn't want to rock the boat," you cried, your tears breaking through and free-falling down your cheeks now. 
"Rock the boat? What are you...what are you even talking about?" he threw his hands in the air and asked. "What the hell is she talking about? I know we've been spending less time together, but in no way is the boat being rocked. We're fine?" he thought to himself. 
"Here you go with the oblivious act," you laughed through the tears in amusement. "Un. fucking. believable. You always do this whenever you’re in the wrong, and frankly, I’m sick of it. You're acting as if I haven't been visibly miserable the past few weeks. Oh, wait. That's just it, how would you know? I'm invisible to you," you said, your voice a little louder as the anger was once again taking over. 
"Look, I don't know what the fuck I did but I don't understand why you're blowing up over this," Joe said, his hand moving to scratch the back of his neck. 
"That's just it. It's mostly what you didn't do. You didn't bother to reschedule our plans, you didn't bother to check in on me to see if I was really okay with you moving our plans, and you didn't fucking remember we were supposed to go out tonight," you yelled, your breaths becoming shorter as you felt yourself turning red from slight distress. You felt awful for yelling at him, but all of the emotions you had built up this past month were coming out at once and it was not going to be pretty. 
Joe stood in silence, his eyes fixed on you as you continued to express your disappointment with his recent behavior as your boyfriend. He felt a sense of unease as he realized the impact of his actions on your emotions. He knew he was in the wrong, but he was hoping you understood how hectic his schedule was and how that prevented him from giving his all to you recently. 
You always understood. And if you didn't, you talked to him about it. But this time you didn't do either of those things, and that made him a little upset. Communication was a big part of your relationship and although it had been pretty off this past month, he thought you would’ve said something to him if you felt this bad about everything. 
"You know, instead of yelling at me about all of this, why didn't you just talk to me about it in the first place?" he asked, now feeling a bit irritated himself. "If you felt so 'invisible' why didn't you tell me right then and there?". 
"Are you really blaming me for this?" you said, looking at him in disbelief. It was unbelievable that he was trying to ignore your feelings, especially when you rarely blew up on him like this so that should tell him that you were really hurt by all of this.
"I never…I never said that," he said while sucking his bottom lip in. "All I'm saying is that we didn't need to have this big argument about it if you just talked to me about how you were feeling before,".
"That still wouldn't change the fact that you forgot about tonight," you snapped, placing your hands on your hips. When your hands touched the smooth, silky fabric of your dress, it seemed to emphasize every curve of your body, catching Joe's gaze for a moment. He felt a flutter of excitement in his stomach as he admired your figure once more, taking in every detail of your stunning appearance a bit closer than he did before. "You still haven't given me a reason," you added.
Joe's frustration was growing as he felt increasingly annoyed by your words, despite his understanding that he had made a mistake. Instead of fixing the issue, your yelling was only aggravating the situation. "You know what? Fine. I forgot. Whoops. My bad," he retorted in a tone that was both monotonous and bratty. He went quiet for a moment, thinking of a devious plan to make you even more annoyed. 
But why did he enjoy making you feel irritated? Because he liked seeing you get all hot and bothered because of him. "I forgot because I was having a great time with my friends and lost track of time. I guess they were more interesting than you," he said smugly.
He knew he was being an absolute dick right now, but part of him was having fun watching you get heated over this and wanted to see you get more flustered. “Is it bad that I think she looks hot as fuck right now?” he thought to himself. 
"God, your fucking attitude pisses me off sometimes," you yelled. As you shook your head, you couldn't help but feel another wave of anger towards him, even though looking around, you realized that the issue at hand was frankly trivial. It wasn't the specific problem–forgetting about the date–that got to you, but rather the underlying feeling of frustration and disappointment that had built inside of you for the past month. Tonight was just the final blow that tipped you over the edge.  
Despite your irritating behavior and petty bickering, Joe was really turned on right now. Something about seeing that fire in your eyes, hearing that fire in your voice just got him going. You were taking charge, and he loved that even if he was pissed that you were arguing with him about something that didn’t need to be this big of a deal. You were putting him in his place and he liked that about you. He liked that you weren’t afraid to call him out on his bullshit. 
His eyes traced a slow, calculated path from your legs, to the graceful curves of your body, to the gentle contours of your breasts, then up to the curve of your neck, before finally meeting your captivatingly beautiful face. He couldn't resist the temptation to admire your compelling appearance, making it even more challenging for him to focus on the petty argument you were having. He felt bad that you got all dressed up for a date that wasn’t happening, but he did enjoy seeing your precious cheeks turn red out of anger, seeing your body tense up in a way that was practically begging for him to relieve it. 
He licked his plump lips as his eyes flashed to a darker shade of blue before saying, "Then why do you like me so much?". 
Your breath caught in your throat as you were trapped by the intense gaze in his eyes. Those dangerous, smoldering, bedroom eyes always seemed to have an irresistible effect on you. The words that followed, said in a tone that ignited a wildfire within you, made you feel an almost overwhelming urge to drop to your knees in front of him. “No, No, No. I’m mad at him. It doesn’t matter how much I would love for him to take away my ability to walk right now. Keep it together,” you thought to yourself, feeling butterflies flutter through your stomach. 
You remained quiet and continued to stare at him, watching him raise his eyebrows in the brattiest way possible as a result of how he easily silenced your bitching and moaning and because of how you had absolutely no response for him. 
“What’s wrong?” he asked as he leaned over and whispered in your ear, his husky voice sending shivers down your spine. “Cat got your tongue?”. 
“I’m not playing this game with you right now,” you rolled your eyes and snapped, starting to back up and walk away before you felt his warm hand wrap around your wrist and pull you right back to him.
A playful smirk danced across his lips as he pulled you into his embrace, immediately planting a trail of soft, teasing kisses along your neck, successfully redirecting your attention.
“Joe,” you whispered, trying to get out of his hold but struggling because of how he was holding you so tightly and pressing kisses all along your neck—your favorite spot to be kissed. “Oh fuck,” you lightly whimpered, feeling him nip and bite at your skin as he wrapped his hand around your neck and gently squeezed it. 
“Hm? Why do you like me so much then?” he mumbled as he dropped wet kisses up to your ear. “If I’m such a horrible boyfriend, why don’t you just leave?”.
“Fuck, Joe,” you accidentally moaned, feeling him start to suck on your favorite spot which made a pang of arousal shoot up your spine.  “So much for trying to keep it together,” you thought to yourself. “This has to be a massive ego boost for him,”. 
It definitely was. He took pride in knowing that he could so easily make you forget about your anger towards him by simply doing what he did best, skillfully and attentively worshiping every inch of your body.
“Hm,” he laughed against you. “I guess that’s why you don’t leave,” 
“You’re being a brat,” you said a few seconds later as you threaded your fingers through his frosted tips, pushing his head closer to your neck. Your actions are a complete juxtaposition to the words that came from your mouth. You were mad at him, but you weren’t acting like it. The sounds leaving your lips, your needy touch, it was all the complete opposite of what you were saying.
“No, you’re being a brat,” he said as he moved out of your neck and looked into your firey eyes. 
He had some nerve to be calling you a brat right now. You weren’t the one that had been ignoring him tonight or the one that had been brushing him off all month. “Go fuck yourself, Joe,” you spat out, the bitterness evident in your words, but it seemed to have little effect on him.
“How about you fuck me instead?” he boldly said while giving you the same tempting, inviting eyebrow raise again. 
“If he looks at me like that again, I swear to god I’m going to end up pregnant. Fuck. Why does he have to look at me like that when I’m trying to be mad at him,” you thought to yourself. Gradually, the intense anger, sadness, and constant irritation towards him turned into strong feelings of fierce desire, urgent need, and passionate emotion.
As you stood face to face, a noticeable tension filled the air, the heat rising as if a fire had been torched between you. His passionate gaze reached into you, sending jolts of electricity through the space. It felt as though he was silently expressing that he had the power to make you forget everything, if only you would allow him to.
And god you wanted him to. 
You quickly reduced the space between you both and smashed your lips against his, his hands dropping down to your waist and holding you tightly as a smirk rose on his lips. “Told you. This is why you don’t leave,” he whispered in between the messy kiss as you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him in closer, completely melting under his fervent touch. 
“Shut up,” you smirked as you trailed kisses along his jaw before he pulled your lips back to his, both of your bodies calling each other’s names as you got lost in each other. 
He moves his big hands down to your ass, giving each cheek a gentle squeeze before whispering, “Jump,” in between the kiss. You do as he says, jumping and wrapping your legs around his middle as he holds you tightly, walking towards the stairs and taking you straight to the bedroom, all without breaking the restless kiss.
A few minutes later, you’re both naked and lying on the bed as Joe spends a bit more time peppering kisses along your neck, your neediness getting more and more vocal as he refuses to do the thing you actually need him to do. 
“Joe, please,” you whimpered as you felt his nose brush against your jaw while he sucked on a spot on your neck, your body squirming under his large frame.
“You can’t be mad at me like that and expect me to give you what you want so easily,” he smirks after he moves from your neck and looks into your eyes with mischievous intent. 
“Fuck you,” you scoffed while tilting your head to the side and refusing to look at him.
“Oh you will, all in due time, baby,” he whispered in your ear, then gently lifted you up in a tender embrace and sat down on the edge of the bed.
Straight across from the mirror. 
“What’re you doing?” you ask him as he sets you in his lap, both of you facing the mirror.
“You see that, Y/N?” he asks as he points to you in the mirror. “That’s you,” he adds as he continues to look up and starts to press wet kisses around your shoulder. His hand snakes around your waist, rubbing your belly with his long fingers as they start to navigate down to your thigh. 
“I know,” you sigh, tilting your head to the side as his kisses get closer to your neck.
“You’re not invisible, baby,” he says as he plants kisses in a path up to your ear as his fingers move down to your core aching core. “You’re right here,” he whispers, a moan escaping your lips as you feel his fingers slide against your wet heat. 
“Joe,” you whimper tipping your head back and closing your eyes, the feeling of his hot body underneath you combined with the feeling of his long fingers at the place where you need him the most becoming too much for you.
“I see you, Y/N,” he whispers in your ear, the tip of his cold nose pressed against it. “I always see you, I always hear you. You’re not invisible,” he says before pressing a kiss to the corner of your ear, then pressing his fingers against your sensitive clit. 
“Ah, Joe,” you moaned, feeling a jolt of pleasure rip through your body. Before you can move your head back forward to say something, you feel his fingers dip inside your core with no warning, earning another sound of pleasure from your lips. “Fuck,” you moaned as you practically melted into his embrace even more. 
His fingers begin to pump in and out of your core, more soft groans and whimpers falling from your lips as he drops slow, hot kisses around your face. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he rasps as he drops his head down to your shoulder again, spending more time cherishing that part of your body. 
The sensation of his skillful fingers stretching you out and filling you makes you want to forget about everything that happened. Joe always had the ability to make you forget your worries and tensions in an instant, but this might have been a new record. 
“Joe, please…I..,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his as your body begs for more.
"Hmm, it's not that easy, baby," he says with a smirk, his voice oozing with cockiness. You can sense the power he holds over you, and it's clear that he finds it entertaining. He is fully aware of the effect he has on you and revels in it. You hated that he could easily get you like this, but you loved it so fucking much. 
His fingers continue to thrust in and out of your core, his touch becoming hotter by the second as you feel yourself inch closer to your release. “You don’t sound like you’re mad at me,” he said as he used his other hand to push your head forward so that you were looking in the mirror again. 
“Fuck,” you moaned when you saw his captivating dark blue eyes at the same time as you felt his fingers hit the spot inside of you. “I…I’m so…mad at you,” you struggled to get out, a whimper squeezing in between your words. 
“Sure,” he chuckled as he rested his chin on your shoulder, increasing the pace of his fingers.
You watched as his fingers disappeared in and out of your dripping heat, faint sounds of your wetness filling the room as you slowly moved your eyes back up to meet his. The look he had told you a number of things; he was horny as hell (just like you), he was enjoying seeing you struggle like this, and he was genuinely sorry about everything. 
The apologetic twinkle in his eyes produced a profound and intense emotion within you, igniting a powerful and overwhelming feeling. He was fully aware of his mistake and this was his way of expressing it to you. “Joe,” you screamed as you felt the band in your stomach tighten, your body gently trembling above him as you felt overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins. 
“Look at you, you’re right there, Y/N. Not hidden, not transparent, and certainly not fucking invisible. Especially not to me,” he whispered in your ear, his husky, raspy voice being the final thing you needed to tip right over the edge.
You feel an intense, deep, and warm feeling pool in your belly, you were so so so painfully close. But just to your surprise, Joe suddenly pulls his fingers out of your core, earning a dissatisfied shriek from your lips. “What the fuck, Joe,” you panted, your core pulsing at the tension that was still there, the tension you thought he’d release for you.  
“Told you,” he smirked as he looked into your eyes through the mirror. “Not easy,”, a soft kiss landing on your shoulder before you feel yourself being lifted up again, turned around, and pushed down to the bed a little roughly. 
“Go. Fuck. Yourself.” you groaned at him a few seconds later, your eyes having that fire in them that he so desperately loved. 
“That’s your job, baby,” he winked as he kneeled down on the bed, hovering over you. “But, I’ll be nice for a little bit and help you out,”. 
You’re about to open your mouth to say something, but before you can, he smashes his lips against yours and rests the head of his hard cock at the entrance of your core. “You want me to give you attention? Here you go,” he mumbles a few seconds later with a cocky grin, and then you feel him push into you with a roughness that drove you wild.
“Ah, Joe,” a guttural moan escaping your lips as you scrunch your nose, your legs instinctively wrapping around him. He was wasting no time with you, and you loved that. 
A jolt of pleasure rips through your body again as he starts to move inside of you, his movements so thorough and intense but rough at the same time. His hand firmly grasps your waist, communicating a sense of possession and intimacy, making it clear to you that you belong entirely to him. 
His body was telling you that you weren’t losing him, that you could never lose him. You could never lose him because he would never let you, he’d never let go of you. 
“Fuck, Y/N,” he moaned as he felt your hands travel to his hair, gently tugging on the strands as you rested your lips on his neck. He begins to snap his hips against yours hard, every thrust sending you further back into the bed and making you forget about everything that ever bothered you in your entire life. 
“Joe…fuck, I’m…,” you panted. “Fuck,” you trailed off.
“I know, baby. I know,” he smiled.
He continues to thrust into you and sets a pace that makes you feel like you’re practically flying through the clouds. It feels euphoric the way he knows exactly how to send your body to its pleasure, almost other-worldly. He was just so good at it. 
The way he was worshipping your body, basically fucking the anger out of you was something your brain couldn’t comprehend. He was the only person who was capable of doing this to you, getting you so frustrated, hot, and bothered, and then having you completely and utterly raw the next second–emotionally and physically. 
Joe was aware that your anger towards him and his recent behavior stemmed from genuine pain. He deeply regretted causing you this pain and slapped himself mentally, repeatedly, for making you feel invisible, even for a second. You were the center of his galaxy, and he needed you to know that you still were and nothing had changed. 
He moves his lips back to yours, capturing them in an intimate kiss that stifles your moans. The delicious feeling of his cock filling you up and his lips against yours is all you could have ever wanted. The way he was moving against you was creating a haze in your brain, almost like a lavender haze. 
The haze surrounded you, signaling that you were immersed in a love that consumed every part of you. 
Joe consumed every part of you. He was the lavender haze, and you wanted to stay in that haze for as long as humanly possible. 
Even though you were mad at him, you couldn’t stay mad at him. He loved you and you knew that, and now he was showing you that he did. This was his way of reassuring you that he was right here with you. 
“Baby,” he moaned, feeling himself get lost in the pleasure you were bringing him. “You feel so fucking good,” he groaned. 
“Joe, my god,” you whimpered, feeling your already built-up release getting stronger again. “I’m so close,” you whined, feeling him somehow quicken his pace. You looked down at him, watching how he roughly pounded into your wet heat and how his muscular body was glowing in the soft light of your bedroom. 
“Cum for me, baby. I know you’re there,” he moaned in your ear before dropping his head to your neck. 
“Ah,” you whimper, feeling your body start to tremble again, you were just seconds away from letting go. 
One particular hard, well-placed thrust later, you were screaming his name as you pushed your head back into the pillow to brace yourself for your orgasm. You felt like a dam had just burst, and the pressure built against it was finally free. Wave after wave of pleasure rips through your body as Joe keeps hammering into you and each time you feel your high come down, it shoots right back up because of his movements. The feeling of your walls wrapping around him, squeezing and hugging his cock made him smile, almost as much as the sound of his name leaving your lips like a sacred chant. 
“Joe,” you whispered, feeling yourself finally come down from your peak. You looked down and saw that he was still moving inside of you, trying to reach his own peak. “Joe,” you said again as you threaded your hands into his hair and lifted his head, “Flip us,”. 
He looked at your glossed-over eyes with his tired ones, a dirty smirk forming on his lips at the idea of what you were asking him to do. “Okay,” he winked, wrapping his big hands around your torso and easily flipping you over all in one go. Despite how tired he was physically, he could never be too tired for you.
“He’s so fucking strong. Fucking hell,” you thought to yourself as you straddled his waist, taking in his tousled golden curls, his thick muscular chest which was coated with a thin layer of sweat, and then his large cock–which was practically calling for you. 
You grabbed his erection, guiding the tip between your drenched folds as you saw his face contort in pleasure and a hiss leaving his lips–he was close. You lifted your hips from his and sat up on your knees before lining up his cock with your core and sinking straight down onto it.  “Oh, fuck,” he moaned as he closed his eyes, his hands landing right on your ass with a light ‘slap’. 
You leaned forward and placed your hands on his pecs, sliding up and down his cock at the same pace he was pounding into you. “Yeah,” you whispered as you felt yourself feel a shock of pleasure coarse through your vein, just as Joe felt coursing inside of him. 
“Y/N, baby,” he groaned, “You feel so good, fuck,” he said while digging his head back into the pillow, having the time of his life watching you take over and ride him into oblivion. 
“I know,” you said to him with a cocky grin which made him raise his eyebrows again, the same way he did earlier. 
It was that same bratty, sexy, that made you think ‘get me pregnant right the fuck now’ eyebrow raise. 
“Fuck,” you moaned after you saw him raise his eyebrows and his cock hit that spot inside of you. 
“That’s my girl,” he grinned, feeling his ego shoot up because even though you were in ‘control’, he was still, actually in control. Especially over you, and it was so obvious. 
You continued to slide up and down his length, occasionally moving back and forth as his moans got louder and his grip on you got tighter. His eyes were fixated on your breasts that were bouncing up and down right in his view, his hands were stuck to your ass and were kneading your plush skin, and his hips were starting to thrust up into you. 
“I’m close, fuck,” he moaned as he felt your walls tighten around him–you were close too, again. 
“O- oh, fuck,” you whimpered while falling forward, your chest pressed against his. “Joe, you’re so fucking…,” you trailed off as a moan interrupted your sentence. “I’m gonna cum,” you whispered against his swollen, plump lips.
“Y- yeah, me too,” he panted, snapping his hips into yours harder. A few seconds later, your bodies moved against each other in perfect harmony for the final time as both of your releases hit at the same time, both of you feeling like your breaths had just been taken away by the intensity of your orgasms. 
“Joe,” you screamed, feeling your high hit you again like a ton of bricks, stars filling your eyes as your second release soaked your lower halves as you felt Joe’s cock twitch inside of you.  
“Fuck, Y/N…oh my god,” he rasped as he shot hot spurts of cum inside your wet, hot cunt, slowly thrusting whatever came out back into your core. His hands were gripping your hips now, so incredibly tightly that you were sure they would leave a small bruise. You looked down and saw how his nose was scrunched up, how his bottom lip was stuck between his teeth, and how his eyes were filled with love, regret, and admiration towards you. 
A couple of minutes later, you were both lying next to each other, trying to catch your breath and make sense of everything that happened in the past hour or so. Joe turned his head to the side to look at you, taking note of how you were biting away at your bottom lip–something you did when you were anxious.
You were in fact anxious. Your argument was bad, and whatever happened on this bed was amazing, but where did it actually get you? Yeah, you were much calmer and in your senses (kind of?) for the most part, but you had hardly talked about the reason you two even got to this point. 
Joe, with a mix of feelings, let out a deep, heartfelt sigh. He gently put his arm around your bare shoulder, pulling you close to his warm chest. Amid your overwhelming confusion, he became your safe haven even though he was the reason you were confused in the first place.
You felt the gentle touch of his lips as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. He then rested his mouth and nose against it, inhaling your natural fragrance. This simple act brought him a unique sense of comfort that no one else, not even his friends, could provide. It was this deep connection that made him realize the need to apologize to you. You were right, you were always right.
“Baby?” he asked you, causing you to look up at him with your tired eyes.
“Y- yeah?” you rasped, your voice scratchy from the activities you were partaking in just a few minutes ago. 
“I’m so, and I mean so fucking sorry for what I did,” he sighed. “I really didn’t mean to make you feel invisible or ignored this past month, you don’t deserve that. I’m sorry that I haven’t been giving you the attention you deserve lately, especially because you do so much for me, more than anyone ever has or ever will,” he sniffled, his eyes welling with tears. 
“Joe,” you pouted, moving your hand to cup his soft cheek and rubbing your thumb under his eye, seeing how glossy his eyes got all of a sudden. “It’s okay, I promise,”.
“It’s not, Y/N,” he said with another gentle kiss to your forehead. “I told you that you were the center of my galaxy, and you are. I hate that I made you feel like you weren’t anymore, that’s so fucked up. I should’ve talked to you about all of this and shouldn’t have expected you to say something first. I was the one that needed to get myself straight and I’m so sorry that I let things get to this point,”.
You felt his hand moving in gentle, soothing circles on your back, providing a comforting and secure touch. In his arms, your worries and tensions seemed to melt away in two distinct ways: the intimacy you shared in the bedroom, and the reassuring feeling of his current actions.
“I just felt like I was losing you,” you admitted. “I was scared that we were drifting apart and I just-,”.
“No,” he interrupted. “You’re not losing me, baby. You’re never going to lose me,” he softly said as he moved his hands into your hair. “I’m not gonna let that happen, not now and not in 15 years when we’re middle-aged and have two kids running around and are arguing about who has to drive the kids to school the next morning,” he smiled.
A soft chuckle left your lips as you imagined what he was saying, an image of your promising future with Joe filled your mind–and it was oh-so sweet. “Obviously you. I need beauty sleep,” you chuckled. 
“Noted,” he smiled as he pulled you closer to him as if you weren’t already stuck to him like glue. He opened his mouth to say something again, and the tone of his voice knew that what he was about to say could easily make you cry,  “I don't think I could find the right words to describe the depth of my love for you. What I feel for you overpowers any other emotion I've ever experienced. It's as if my soul has finally found its missing piece in you. I will choose you, again and again, without hesitation. No one else can make me feel the way you do. You mean everything to me. When I look at you, I see my life partner, my best friend, my everything. You have the unique ability to improve every aspect of my life–every laugh becomes brighter, and every tough day feels more manageable because you're there for me. You have given me a type of love that I never thought possible, and I'll forever treasure the way you've positively impacted my life. My love for you is something I'll wholeheartedly protect because no one else will ever have my heart the way you do. From the moment we met, I felt something unique about you. I've never loved anyone the way I love you, and I know I never will. You're my heart, my soul, and the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. No one else will ever come close to producing the feelings I have for you, and I'll always do everything in my power to ensure you feel as cherished and adored as you deserve.” he said while playing with your messy hair. 
You felt tears falling from your eyes after he finished talking, you didn’t even realize when you started crying, but you were. “Wait, I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he softly said as he leaned down and cleaned up your tears by placing kisses on each droplet. “I’m sorry, baby,” he said, his softness so adorable and genuine. 
“It’s okay, Joey,” you grinned, a few sniffles coming from your nose. “I’m crying because of how much I love you. What you said…that means a lot,”. 
“I mean it, Y/N. I’m genuinely so sorry for tonight, for this past month, for all of it. You are always number 1 for me and I need to show you that more from now on. I don’t deserve you at all, but I have you, and I won’t overlook something as valuable as you or not take advantage of the fact that you, this amazingly sweet, sexy, empathetic, down-to-earth, incredibly genuine, kindhearted, funny & sometimes slightly boring…” he started to say before you interrupted him.
“Ouch,” you giggled as you patted his chest, earning a soft chuckle from him.  
“...boring but unpredictable, loving, insanely beautiful, and charismatic girl has my heart in her hands,” he finished saying. “I love you, Y/N. I need to do better for you, and from this moment on I will. You deserve to be loved with 150% effort and I’m going to make sure you do. The guys can wait. I’ve spent enough time with them for them to go a couple of weeks, even months without seeing me. It’s you and me now and forever,” he said to you, his soft, loving eyes acting as a mirror to his soul–which showed his genuine and raw intentions and were exactly as he was describing to you. 
“I love you, Joe,” you smiled as you felt him brush his lips against your lips before planting a deep, passionate kiss to them. 
“Time to get things back on track,” he said a few seconds later, sitting up on the bed and bringing you with him. “It’s too late for our dinner reservation but I’m going to get it shifted to tomorrow. Tonight we’re going to the banks for some stargazing and a late-night picnic. We can pick up some pizza and ice cream from that place by the stadium on our way,” he nodded, talking you through the plan as if he had thought about this deeply, but he didn’t. He was coming up with all this on the fly. “Then tomorrow morning after we wake up, we can go on a little hike in that part by my parent’s house in Athens. It’ll be a drive but we can hike around there since it’s so pretty this time of the year and see my parents, maybe even get lunch with them at our favorite cafe over there before heading back home for dinner tomorrow night. On Sunday, it’s a full lazy day inside. We’re going to stay in our pajamas all day, do a Twilight movie marathon because I remember you saying you want me to watch them with you, order food to the house for lunch and dinner, maybe even bake some cookies or something, and then spend the rest of the day in bed. Preferably with no clothes,” he grinned. 
You were left speechless as you looked at him, impressed by how effortlessly he had drafted these plans without considering his own weekend schedule. The sight of him thinking on the spot filled you with affection, and your heart swelled with a mix of emotions. 
You leap forward and wrap your arms around his neck as you smother his face with gentle kisses, “I loveeeeee youuuuuuuuu,” you giggle, feeling him wrap his arms around your waist and hearing his soft chuckles in your ear. 
“I love you too, baby. You’re the shining force at the center of my galaxy, the light that everything else revolves around. Like the planets drawn to their sun, my life is pulled by your existence, and I know that for us to thrive, our orbit needs to be steady. Every moment with you is a delicate balance of love, trust, and effort–each one keeping us aligned, making sure our world doesn’t drift apart. I’ll protect that balance, making sure that no matter what forces try to interfere, we stay on track, always revolving around the core of what we’ve built together," he says to you, his heartfelt words, his embrace, the genuine look in his eyes all making you fall deeper in love with him.
"This is why I like you so much," you grin as you meet his baby blues, answering his question from earlier.
"What do you mean?" he asks you, licking his lips as he uses his hand to move his hair back.
"I like you because you're the most thoughtful, raw, incredibly well-spoken, smartest, nerdiest, most adorable and manly, genuine person I've ever met in my entire existence. You make me mad sometimes, but you also know exactly how to fix what you did and make everything even better than it was before. You're always making an effort to fix things. Yeah, you can be a dick, asshole, and oblivious idiot sometimes...,".
"Hey!" he gasps, acting like he was offended over what you said.
"But you're my obvious idiot and I love you for everything you are. You love me, like really love me and I know that and you never fail to make me know that. Also because you're like super sexy and I can't get enough of you and that damn eyebrow raise," you giggled.
"Oh, you like that?" he asked, giving you that eyebrow raise again.
"Do that again and we're staying in this bed the rest of the night," you smiled at him and said. "I might even end up pregnant by the end of it,".
Joe was stunned at your words, "Damn, so you really like that," he slowly nodded with a smirk.
"Really may be an understatement. Just know that you don't want to be inside my brain whenever you do that eyebrow raise," you winked. "I don't think we have enough anti-horny spray to get rid of the thoughts in my head,".
"Being perpetually horny is good for the soul, babe. Embrace it," Joe smiled as he leaned in and slowly kissed you in a way that made your toes curl and your body light on fire.
He fell back down against the pillows and brought you down with him. "Joe," you said in between the kiss, "We have to go," you smiled.
"Another round won't hurt," he said while giving you the eyebrow raise again, now knowing what it did to you.
You rolled your eyes, "Fuck, you're going to use that every damn time from now on, aren't you?".
"Maaaybe," he grinned as he brought you back down to his soft lips.
–The End–
339 notes · View notes
firewasabeast · 3 days
Note
Can you please do a hurt/comfort Eddie + Tommy friendship with Bucktommy - Tommy gets hurt in some way (mentally/physically/sick/etc) and Eddie helps him until Buck can get there
you gave me a reason to finish the fic I started earlier today! thank you!
His teeth were chattering. Had been since he woke up after hitting the ground.
He didn't hurt anywhere, which was never a good sign.
He laid there, surrounded by trees. Cold, wet leaves underneath his body. He could hear crickets and frogs all around him. Could smell smoke somewhere nearby.
There were distinct sounds of metal creaking mixed in with nature.
Slowly, he moved his head to the right, then to the left.
Fire.
It was about fifty yards away. Thankfully, due to the recent rain, the fire was contained to the helicopter that had so gracefully fallen out of the sky.
He wasn't sure how he ended up so far from it. Had no memory of being ejected or jumping or whatever happened that made it so he wasn't inside those flames.
He lifted his hands to his face, could barely see them as the sun set below the trees. He was sure there was blood. Dirt, mud, leaves, and blood.
They shook so fiercely he wasn't sure how he had any control over them at all.
His breathing was labored, heart beating rapidly. No matter what he tried, he couldn't seem to calm himself down.
Suddenly, in the distance, he heard something.
People talking.
Not just people, familiar people.
Family.
“H- Here,” he barely managed to get out, figuring they'd be running toward the fire instead of him. He cleared his throat, tried again. “Here! I'm here!”
The talking stopped, then there was running.
He could feel the pounding of the footsteps as they approached.
“Hey, we gotcha, Buddy!”
“Howie?”
“Yeah, it's me. Saving your ass, once again.”
Hands were on him now. Lights shining in his eyes, causing him to squint. He could hear others talking. Hen, Eddie, Bobby. Couldn't quite make out what they were saying.
Chimney had him focus on him. “Can you tell me your name?” he asked.
“T- Tommy,” he answered. God, he wished he could stop shaking. He couldn't barely get out a word.
“Year?”
“2024.”
“Best paramedic you know?”
“Hen,” Tommy replied, choking out a laugh.
“Hey now!” Chimney exclaimed, mocking offense.
“I knew I liked you,” Hen said with a smile. She patted him on the shoulder before getting back to work.
Chimney chomped on his gum a couple times before asking his next question. “Can you wiggle your toes for me, Tommy?”
Tommy shook his head. He lifted his arm, tried to pull Chimney closer to him so he could whisper. “I c- can't feel anything,” he paused, sucked in a shaky breath, “b- below my waist.” He knew what this meant, and he also knew he was in shock. The adrenaline pumping through him was the only thing keeping him remotely alert.
Chimney nodded, sharing a glance with Hen. “Cervical collar for our dashing pilot here, please, Hen.”
“Already on it.”
“Ho- Howie?”
“Yeah, Buddy?”
“Ev- Evan?”
“Buck went home early today,” Eddie answered, moving into Chimney's place so he could do whatever work needed to be done. “Chief is cracking down on overtime, so he had to be sent home.”
“We've... We've been sa- saving f- for the wedding,” he explained, although he wasn't sure why. Everyone there already knew that.
Eddie took Tommy's hand and wrapped it up in his own. “You were probably already up in the air when Buck sent you the text complaining about being sent home.”
“He'd say... He'd say th- the chief didn't want us t- to have the good hors d'oeuvres.”
Eddie nodded, tried putting on a smile. “He did mention that on his way out.”
Tommy squeezed Eddie's hand. “We m- might have to re... reschedule.” His lip trembled at the thought, tears welling in his eyes. Evan was so excited for the wedding. Had been working diligently and meticulously on every detail since they got engaged in October. He wanted a winter wedding, and didn't want to wait another whole year, so February it would be. With it being December now, Tommy didn't see any way he'd be able to fully recover by then.
If he did at all.
“Let's not worry about that right now, alright, Man? I don't think Buck will care when the wedding is, as long as there is one. Let's focus on that, okay?”
Tommy nodded. Blinked a few times to rid himself of the tears.
A few fell anyway.
“Ed- Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
“Do I... Do I still have my legs?”
“You certainly do, Kinard,” Bobby interrupted. Tommy wasn't sure how long the captain had been on his other side. Bobby gave his shoulder a light squeeze. “You've got all your limbs right where they should be. You ready to move now, Kid?”
Tommy could've laughed at the nickname. He'd been called that by Bobby a couple of times, many years ago. It'd been a long while since then.
He nodded. “Ready.”
Eddie didn't let go of his hand as they lifted him and began carrying him to the ambulance. Tommy was a bit surprised. He didn't remember ever being moved onto the spine board. Hadn't felt a thing.
A part of him had wondered if they'd even been working on him during that time. That maybe Eddie was the chosen distraction until he drifted off and his breathing stopped.
He was glad to know he was wrong.
*****
Bobby drove them to the hospital, with Eddie staying in the back beside him. It was a bit cramped with him, Eddie, Chimney, and Hen all back there together, but the fact he was surrounded by these people made him feel a bit more comforted.
Tommy looked over to where his and Eddie's hands were still tightly gripped together. He wasn't sure if Eddie was refusing to let him go, or if he was refusing to let Eddie go. Didn't really matter either way. He needed something to keep him tethered to reality.
He shook his wrist back and forth a few times to get Eddie's attention. “Can you... Can you call Evan? Please?”
“Of course,” Eddie replied, grabbing his phone out of his pocket with his free hand.
“You've got some cuts on your arms, Tommy,” Hen explained as Eddie pressed Buck's name. “We're gonna work on those on the way to the hospital, so you might feel some stings, okay?”
“Yeah. That's okay.”
Eddie put the phone on speaker and Buck answered on the third ring. “What's wrong?”
“Buck-”
“Who is it, Eddie? I just left work an hour ago. Is it Bobby? Hen? Chim?”
Tommy took a deep breath. “B- Baby.”
Silence.
Then.
“Tommy? Is that you?”
“Had a... a little accident.”
“What hospital?”
“The usual,” Eddie replied.
“I'm heading there now.”
“Evan? Evan!” Tommy exclaimed, wanting to get his attention before he got in the car and started to drive.
“I'm here, Tommy,” he answered. “I'm gonna meet you at the hospital.”
“I don't wanna... wanna scare you,” Tommy said, and he could feel the tears burning his eyes again. “I can't. I can't feel my legs.”
“He's stabilized,” Chimney added quickly, before Buck could ask. “Likely a lower spinal cord injury.”
Another pause, followed by a quiet. “Okay. Okay.”
“He's doing well, Buck,” Eddie reassured him. “We're all right here with him. He won't shut up about you, like always.”
Tommy smiled. He hoped Evan did as well.
“Feeling's mutual,” Buck replied. His voice was softer now. Tommy knew the words were meant to keep him focused and thinking positively.
It worked.
“Need you t- to be safe.”
“I will, Baby. I'll drive safe and I'll be at the hospital as soon as I can, okay?”
“Okay. L- Love you.”
“I love you, too. So damn much, T- Tommy.”
Tommy wasn't sure who hung up first, but he could tell by the way Evan's voice wavered at the end that he was probably close to falling apart.
“Thank you,” Tommy said as Eddie put his phone back into his pocket.
“Whatever you need, Bud, I'm here.”
“Just... Just keep ho- holding my hand.”
Eddie nodded, squeezed a little tighter. “I can do that.”
306 notes · View notes
threestarsinline · 2 days
Text
The Gala
Jason Todd x reader one-shot
Summary: It was supposed to be simple. Just accompany Jason to the party. It was also supposed to be quick. Just go in, talk to a few people, and out. But then, you find yourself meeting your boyfriend's family.
Word Count: 9.3K
Category: Fluff (established relationship) and a tiny, tiny little bit of angst
Warnings: Rich people?? Bahahsjsjs Mentions of alcohol
Author’s note: My Wayne gala fic debut (with a super original title, I know jskdks), hope you like it!
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You look at yourself once again in the mirror. The truth is that you love the image that looks back at you. You feel comfortable and true to yourself, as well as beautiful. The dress that you’re wearing playing a big part in it. Your fingers slowly trace the hem of the bright red of the soft fabric.
You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You know that the dress probably won’t live up to the standard of the women that will be at the place but for you, it’s beautiful and elegant, making you feel like a seven year old girl wearing her favorite princess dress and giving you the confidence that you will need tonight.
Even if the style of the dress is not as chic or as sophisticated as others, you’re sure that the red will stand out. The thought increases your nerves. You don’t usually wear red but when you saw this dress you knew that you had to buy it, you could easily see yourself in it. And also, you couldn’t wait to see Jason’s reaction.
You knew that he would love it, or so you hoped. He always liked it when you wore red, or anything for that matter. No matter how you looked he always looked at you with the same silly smile and caring eyes. But there was something in wanting to see him swoon all over you. You smile thinking of him. Even if the night ends in a disaster, you both will be at each other's side.
Just as you do a little spin to see the movement of your skirt just a bit up your knees, the doorbell rings. When you open the door Jason is looking around stressfully, breathing heavily, his hands alternating on running through his hair as if trying to fix it and adjusting his tie. He doesn’t seem to notice that you have opened the door.
“Hey,” you say softly. He turns to you.
“Hi,” he says breathlessly in return, and by the way that he’s taking you in, you can tell that it isn’t for the same reason as before. You look down shyly and put a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You then take him in, and to say that you’re not ready for the full sight in front of you is an understatement. Jason was already handsome but to see him in a suit… Your insides are doing crazy things.
“Y/N, you look… incredible.”
“Thank you.” You take a small step and on your toes you give him a kiss on the cheek. “I have to say that you look great. I think that I could get used to seeing you in a suit.” He smiles warmly but suddenly he seems to come out of his daze.
“Listen, I’m so sorry I’m late and that I kept you waiting. I got caught up before and then this stupid tie wouldn’t work with me and…” You shush him softly with a kiss and then shake your head.
“Don’t worry, I just got finished too.”
He sighs in relief, and then, with a life of their own, before you can help yourself, your hands lift to fix his hair to give it his usual style but less messy, although as always, the white streak stays as rebel as ever. Your hands slide down his neck to the lapels of his jacket and then adjust his tie that was crooked to the left.
“You know how to do that?” he says, referring to the tie.
“Not really. I have just always wanted to do that. You know, like in movies and so.” You can’t help but giggle a bit while you say that.
“Well, that makes two of us.” He takes your hands and places a kiss on them. You sigh happily, the soft gesture making you melt. You’re sure that this man is going to be the death of you. The care and affection with which he always touches and looks at you was both deadly and invigorating. “Ready?”
“I think so.”
“Because if not, you know that I wouldn’t mind one bit to stay here and take a more careful look at this gorgeous dress.” His hands find your waist and after a peck on your lips, his own meet your neck.
“I know. And that’s why we have to get going, we’re already late.” You put a hand in his chest to place some distance with the temptation of his lips, that now are pouting.
“‘A queen is never late, everyone else is simply early,’” he deadpans.
A laugh threatens to escape from your throat. “You just did not.”
“What?” he says feigning innocence, but the smirk on his lips gives him away.
“You just did not quote the queen of Genovia,” you say amused.
“Okay, first, Julie Andrews is always right. And second, you were the one that showed me that masterpiece so, you should have seen it coming.” He’s grinning from ear to ear. You wish that you could always see him like this. So happy and carefree.
“Can't say that you’re not right,” you reply while hugging him, resting your head on his chest and letting his calming scent surround you.
He then takes your face in his hands and with your noses touching he whispers, “I love you.” 
Your smile at those words never faltered. “I love you too.”
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When you two reach the manor Jason drives past the main gate and goes directly to the secondary one that leads to the back entrance of the manor in order to avoid all the fancy cars and limos that litter the road of the main one.
Even from outside you can tell that the party is already in full swing, the windows of the main living room that in these cases often transforms into a dance hall, the only ones with light in them and cluttered with people.
Jason parks the car but his hands do not leave the steering wheel. His grip tightens and untightens around it as he takes a deep breath and looks towards the back door of the manor. You know well how even though the manor is a home to Jason, in events like this it almost feels like a cage.
“Hey,” you whisper softly while you take his hands into yours. Immediately, Jason’s eyes leave the manor and turn towards you. “It’s gonna be okay. I’m here. And it’ll be quick, we just have to show face for a little while, just like we talked about. And then as fast as we’re in, we’ll be out,” you reassure him while softly rubbing the back of his hands with your thumbs.
Jason gulps and nods, trying to will the nerves away, though his hands have stopped flexing and now lay relaxed in your grip ever since you touched them.
“Or we can leave right now. Forget all this. Spend the evening alone, just you and me. Maybe even some Batburger?” you tease with a smile, letting him know that he always has an out with you. Your calming words seem to work as a small chuckle leaves him and he lifts your hands to kiss them once again.
He shakes his head.
You tilt yours. “You sure?”
“Yeah. I just needed a moment. Besides, if I don’t go in I’ll never hear the end of it. Also, if we get this out of the way now, we won’t have to come to another one for a long while. And like you said, it’ll be quick.”
You nod and give his hands an encouraging squeeze. “Exactly. And remember, if you want to leave early, you just tell me.” 
He nods, a lot more sure of himself than just a moment ago. “Let’s go.”
“Let’s go,” you echo.
Jason gets out of the car and you know better than to try and get out yourself, having learned in the very early stages of your relationship that if Jason can help it, you will never have to open a door again. And like always, your door opens and he extends a hand to help you out.
Despite the temperature dropping slightly during the night with the summer reaching its end, it’s a very nice evening. A soft breeze grazes your arms and the cut of your dress but it’s not enough to make you feel cold, mainly due to the warm hand that settles on your lower back. In the sky, the stars that would be impossible to see downtown accompany the moon in illuminating the night.
You two make your way through the gravel path that leads to the back door hand in hand, giving each other courage for the night that awaits ahead.
Once inside, it’s like entering another world entirely. Chatter and glass clinks fill the air and you’re just glad that at least this way your entrance to the party won’t make that much of a fuss as you would have done if you had used the main door.
“I was starting to think that you weren’t going to appear, Master Jason.”
At the sound of the voice both you and Jason stop dead in your tracks near the kitchen, almost like two kids getting caught trying to sneak out instead of sneaking in.
“Alfred!” Jason greets him exaggeratedly, trying to distract from the fact that you two have been caught arriving late. The British man can’t help but mirror Jason’s big smile, even as it breaks his teasing smirk. You smile as you watch them hug and then Alfred turns to you.
“Oh, and you’ve brought Miss Y/N as well! So great to see you again, dear,” he says as he also gives you a quick hug.
“You too, Alfred,” you reply with a smile. “Though it’s just Y/N, please.”
“You know I’m not going to do that, Miss Y/N.” The crinkles of the butler’s smile reminding you that trying to argue with him was a futile attempt.
You had only met him once before but that had been enough to get to know each other quite well and to already care for each other.
You had met him some weeks before, when Jason took you to the manor for the very first time one weekend as a kind of romantic getaway, as it had been left deserted and empty by Alfred and Bruce due to a business/Batman trip and Tim and Damian were away with their respective friends. It was an opportunity like no other.
It had been a wonderful long summery weekend, spent cooking together, lounging in the pool while sharing lazy kisses in the water with your arms and legs wrapped around him, his hands holding you as the sun set behind you, and watching movies in the home theater. You had never felt more at peace or relaxed.
And then, Alfred had come back a couple of days early. You and Jason had been cooking lunch (well, Jason had been cooking while you admired him perched on the counter), when Alfred entered, surprised to see anyone in the manor. After the initial surprise, friendly introductions had been made since from all of the members of his family, Alfred was the only one that Jason wasn’t wary of you meeting.
Jason could only thank whatever was out there that it had been Alfred who had come back early and not Bruce. He wasn’t ready to handle that yet.
Alfred joined you two for lunch and even though you were slightly nervous at the beginning at meeting a member of Jason’s family, you were glad that it was Alfred since he instantly made you feel welcome and at ease. Jason had watched your conversations with a small smile, glad to see and not surprised at all that you got along so well.
After lunch, Alfred left you two be to enjoy the rest of the day as well as the next day since it was your last in the manor. However, he still insisted on making you two breakfast the next day and you got to try Alfred’s famous pancakes. There was no doubt from where Jason had gotten his excellent culinary skills.
You still crossed paths with Alfred a couple more times but they hadn’t been awkward at all. During that short time of seeing you and Jason interact, Alfred saw just how happy you two made and loved each other. He could clearly see the certainty of your relationship and he couldn’t be happier for the young boy that had once been the second Robin. He totally deserved the happiness that you brought him.
And as Alfred insists on calling you Miss Y/N, with the sounds of the party drifting into the kitchen, just like he had done the first time that he met you, the same thought crosses his mind.
That the only way in which he would ever call you something other than that would be when you became Mrs. Todd. Something that he was certain would happen from the very first moment that he saw you laugh with Jason before he had made his presence known that summer afternoon. A truth as plain as the sun.
Now, seeing that the British man isn’t giving up upon your insistence on calling you just by your first name, you sigh defeatedly. “Alright.”
At that, Alfred smiles and turns back to Jason. “Your brothers will be glad to see you’ve been able to make it.”
Jason rolls his eyes. “Sure.”
You smile at his antics and squeeze his hand. The thing was that at each Wayne gala, as it was to be expected, a few members of the family should be present. But considering the fact that all, literally all, the Waynes hated the galas, having Waynes at a gala had long been a recurring problem.
No one still talks about the time that at one of them, not a single Wayne had appeared. The press had had a field day with it and it took the Waynes months to repair the damage.
For a rich family in Gotham that lead a double life as vigilantes, they sure hated the appearances and masks that came with having to entertain the socialites. You have always found the fact extremely entertaining.
And so, in order to avoid the great gala disaster, as Jason had explained to you, they had come up with a system. Taking turns attending the galas and doing so in different groups as they all knew that no one, absolutely no one should have to suffer through a gala alone (except Bruce, who sometimes had to go alone, downsides of being the face of the company).
For example, a group could be Bruce, Dick and Damian (who, lucky for him, has never had to experience the torture of going to one alone, still being a kid and all), or Jason and Dick, but never just Jason and Tim alone, the two always looking to make an escape and neither of them keeping the other in check. However, if they were accompanied by someone else it was manageable. The pairings and different groupings going on and on.
But tonight, however, it was the turn for all four of the batboys to be there, Bruce out on a mission. And so here you were, having offered to accompany your boyfriend when he told you that he had to go to the gala. Jason had said that it wasn’t necessary but you could see the relief in his eyes when you assured him that you wanted to go with him, knowing how hard these things could be sometimes.
Though not liking large crowds either, you were no better. What a pair did you two make. But you knew that together, you could face this night. Now, apart from the overall challenge of enduring the night, came the very real possibility of finally meeting Jason’s brothers. It wasn’t that Jason was trying to keep you away from them or hiding you, they did know about you, it’s just that it was a delicate issue that he wanted to handle at his own time and when he was ready.
You understood that and of course never pushed him on the topic. You knew that if it were for Jason, he would scream that you two were together a hundred times a day, he had no problem holding your hand in public nor kissing you until you felt dizzy in the middle of the street.
Either way, when you two realized that you could meet them, Jason came to the conclusion that it wasn’t so bad. That way they’ll stop pestering him about meeting you and you would do it in a more relaxed ambience than what a formal dinner with all of his family, including Bruce, could be, with all of their eyes fixed on you and asking you millions of questions. At least this way, with the gala, distractions were easy to come by if a quick escape was necessary.
So, if you met them, good. If you didn’t, good as well.
Though still, the nerves persisted.
After exchanging a couple of phrases more with Alfred, he returned to his duties at the party and with your arm looped through Jason’s, you stepped into the space that had been turned into a ballroom of sorts, all of Gotham’s elite there. Either to donate to a Wayne fundraiser (sadly, the least likely of them all), invest in Wayne Enterprises (more likely), drink (very likely), or to snoop around the mysterious Wayne manor and find out more about the peculiar family (the most likely of them all).
You have to say that you're impressed with what has been done with the space. Added chandeliers and carefully placed lamps give the room a golden glow, highlighting all the luxury of the attendees, from expensive watches, to even more expensive necklaces, and making all the glasses of champagne around the room sparkle.
On one side, a bar has been set up, on the other, on a small stage, musicians play for the dancing couples on the dance floor that has been put up in the center. And scattered around the room, high tables where people place their drinks and gather for conversations.
The lack of chairs does not go unnoticed, just a couple every few tables and the stools that surround the bar. The lack no doubt made deliberately, that way, no one would settle for long, either forcing them to mingle and spend some money on the gala or directly leave. The Waynes really do not like to have people in their house. You have to stifle a laugh at the thought, you could relate to that.
Though it makes perfect sense, given that no one wants too many people on the floor above the headquarters for Gotham’s vigilantes for long. You also know that in whatever way they can, they always try to have the galas either at Wayne Tower or at any other place, but sometimes, having one at the manor once in a while was inevitable.
You can’t help but tense up as you notice more and more people start to look towards you two. You don’t even notice that your anxious nature has gotten the better of you and that your grip on Jason’s arm has tightened until his other hand covers yours, the touch immediately grounding and soothing you. You look up at him and take a deep breath as his green eyes look at you encouragingly and gratefully, telling you that you can do this and that he’s thankful that you’re here with him.
You smile before squeezing his arm back and then you two plunge into battle. Showtime.
You make small talk with a few of the guests before approaching the bar to get something to drink. As you wait for your drinks you feel Jason lean down to whisper in your ear.
“I’m going to the bathroom real quick, I’ll be right back. You okay?”
You nod with a smile, telling him that it’s okay before he gives a quick kiss to your temple and then disappears into the crowd.
Your eyes scan the room as you take the refreshment that has been placed in front of you and take a sip, trying not to draw too much attention upon yourself while you wait. You’re no vigilante but as a person that prefers alone time, assessing the room before making any social interaction goes without saying. You’re even thinking of seeking Alfred and asking him if he needs help with anything when your eyes clock Jason again on the other side of the room, cornered by a bunch of socialites.
He has a pleasing smile on his face as he listens to what they’re telling him. To any other person, it might seem like he’s genuinely interested, but you can read him like a book. The corners of his smile are tense, apart from the fact that it doesn't reach his eyes, and his too constant nodding tells you how he is feigning the interest. His eyes find yours for a moment before returning to the lady speaking to him and in that split millisecond you can see how his smile turns real for you, before becoming fake once again.
You leave your glass on the counter of the bar to make your way to him and save him from the people crowding him when suddenly-
“Care for a dance?” a smooth voice says at your side.
You turn to decline when you’re met with eyes of a vibrant shade of blue, a boyish youth and mischief in them, but also slightly hardened with years of experience dealing with the worst of Gotham. His black hair is perfectly styled, a winning and charming smile on his lips and clad in a black suit with a bow tie that highlights all of his features. You can see how he’s a handsome man but still to you, he doesn’t hold a candle to Jason.
Of course you know who he is.
Gotham’s golden boy.
“Dick Grayson.”
“Y/N Y/L/N.” His smile widens and you realize that this is happening whether you want it or not. You’re meeting one of Jason’s brothers. Your eyes flick back to Jason but he’s no longer surrounded by the socialites. In fact, he’s nowhere to be found. He must’ve managed to escape somehow. Looks like you’re going to have to face this alone. You had even been starting to think that this moment wouldn’t come since you hadn’t seen any of Jason’s brothers since you arrived.
You turn back to Dick and he’s still in the exact same position, leaning with one arm on the bar, carefully watching you with a knowing smile. Everything in his demeanor open, easy.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,“ he says, extending his hand.
Your force your body to release the small tension that it has accumulated and with a small smile you shake his hand. “You too.”
“Glad to see that Jason hasn’t made you up. We were starting to doubt that you really existed,” he comments playfully.
You know that he isn’t intimidating you or trying to scare you, merely wanting to meet you, know more about Jason’s life, see the reason why he’s the happiest that they have ever seen him.
“I’m very real, yes.”
“So, how about that dance?”
You pause for a second. “I’m not the best dancer.”
“Come on, please. How am I supposed to get to know my new sister-in-law otherwise?”
“By just talking?”
He chuckles. “Alright, fair enough. How about this, how am I supposed to get to know my sister-in-law without gossiping rich people interrupting us over and over again?” Dick nods to the side and you see how a few of the guests are looking towards you two, no doubt about to walk up to you and force you to establish conversation.
“Lead the way,” you end up saying and Dick’s smile beams even more, his joyous nature and openness making you feel at ease. You feel like he’s trying to make this easy for you, knowing how awkward meeting your boyfriend’s family could be.
He then offers you his arm to guide you to the dance floor and in no time you’re joining all the couples waltzing around it.
“So… Y/N, tell me. What are your intentions with our dear Jaybird?” he jokes in mock seriousness while arching an eyebrow.
“Jaybird?” you ask, never having heard the nickname before but already liking it.
“Oh, Y/N, I have so many anecdotes to tell you. We’re going to have so much fun.”
You smile at the prospect of hearing stories about Jason. “Can’t wait. But to answer your question, my intentions are to just be with him. For as long as he wants me.”
Dick nods, as if you just confirmed something that he already knew. “I feel like that’s going to be a long time.” You feel your cheeks warm at his words. You really hope that it is too. Forever, if you can help it. “Though are you sure that you want to put up with him for so long? He can be insufferable,” he adds, and you chuckle.
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Afterwards, he asks you about your job and your family, and you ask him about life in Blüdhaven. You’re glad for his easygoingness, allowing you to feel comfortable and a sense of camaraderie and friendship already between you. You’re also glad that you’re dancing since you’re sure that if you weren’t, conversation wouldn’t have flowed as easily without the privacy that it has given you.
“My turn, Grayson,” a voice suddenly speaks.
You two stop dancing and turn your heads to the side, and then slightly down to find a young boy. His dark combed back hair and his straight posture making him a shadow of his father, his green eyes looking up at you expectantly and his tan skin inherited from his mother. Talia al Ghul.
“No, it isn’t,” Dick replies. 
“Yes, it is,” Damian retorts, holding Dick’s gaze. It’s like they are challenging one another while also having a mental conversation.
Finally, Dick sighs. “Fine. But only if Y/N is okay with that."
“It’s alright,” you say softly.
“See?” Damian insists and Dick rolls his eyes. You smile at their interaction and then Dick turns back to you.
“Thanks for dancing with me, Y/N. It’s been really nice finally getting to talk to you.”
“Likewise.”
Dick squeezes your hands in goodbye before letting go, Damian taking his spot to dance with you. “See you around.” Dick says and you nod and watch as he takes his leave, until a throat clears in front of you and you begin dancing once again.
“You’re Todd’s girlfriend then? Y/L/N?”
“That’s me. You must be Damian. It’s nice to meet you.” Damian nods solemnly before staring intensely at you, as if deciphering you. His movements are graceful and elegant, even more purposeful than Dick’s even. You suppose that all the grace must have something to do with growing up with ninjas and practically being raised like royalty.
Not one to back out, you hold his gaze and stare back at him. He’s shorter than you but you have no doubt that in no time he’ll be taller than you.
“You’re a great dancer, Damian,” you finally say and you can see how something in him changes, no longer putting up the intimidating facade, allowing himself to relax slightly.
“Thanks. Mother taught me.”
“That’s nice. I hope I’m not making you look too much like a fool.”
Damian shrugs. “You’re alright.”
You smile, taking his version of a compliment as a win. Then you take another look around the room, wondering where Jason could be. Maybe Alfred has asked for his help on something. You turn back to Damian, who looks around the space uninterested.
“I’m guessing you don’t like these galas much,” you say, trying to get him to open up a bit more.
“They are… a responsibility.”
“Yeah, well, I’d much rather prefer doing something else. Like going to the aquarium or the museum.” Damian’s eyes shot back to yours like a flash, a small sparkle in them.
Bingo.
You try to contain your triumphant smile. “Have you seen the new art exhibit? Jason told me that you like drawing,” you continue.
And just like that, whatever it was that Damian was wary of disappears as you two make conversation, discussing different painters, Damian’s art and your own hobbies. Then, for a second, Damian pauses in thought, like a jury about to deliver their decision, making you wonder what he’s about to say. 
“You’re cool. Todd was right about you,” he finally says as the current song ends and you two come to a stop.
You smile softly in thanks. “Glad to hear that.”
“Though I’m not yet quite sure what you could be seeing in Todd. You’re clearly way cooler than him.”
That makes you chuckle and you don’t miss how a smile twitches on Damian’s face.
“Thanks, I guess? Though he’s not that bad. Not at all.”
Damian just shrugs at your statement but you have the feeling that behind all the picking, there’s fondness and a brotherly bond between him and Jason.
“Anyway, I have to go feed my animals. It was nice meeting you, Y/N.” Your jaw almost drops, but you manage to avoid it before your lips twist into a wide smile.
Damian’s calling you by your first name. When Jason has told you that he never does that with anyone. Not even Dick.
“You too, Damian.”
He nods in goodbye before going towards the exit of the ballroom. You leave the dance floor and take a deep breath. Well, that wasn’t so bad. It was fun, actually.
You decide that you need some air in order to take all of the recent events in and head towards the open patio door that looks out to the gardens. Even though you can still hear the party, as the door is still open, the change of ambience is very much welcomed. You inhale the fresh air before releasing a content sigh at having a moment for yourself.
You lean on the railing surrounding the few steps that separate you from the grass as you gaze up at the clear sky, the moon illuminating the patio and the late summer evening breeze creating ripples along the surface of the pool. It’s a nice break from the scorching nights that Gotham can have along the summer. You can’t wait for the fall.
As you let yourself relax in the quiet evening, you think back to what has just happened. You just met two of Jason’s brothers. And everything went well. You still can’t believe it. You let out a soft chuckle at the thought that your social skills haven’t failed you this time. Despite usually needing a lot of time with a person to open up and build trust, you’re surprised at how easy it came to you with Dick and Damian, already getting along and having the feeling that you’re going to become good friends. Family, someday.
Maybe it’s due to Dick’s easygoing personality or the things that you have in common with Damian but you feel like it’s more than that. The knowledge that these kind of connections don’t come easy for them either, given all the secrets that they have to keep and the fact that they don’t have to tiptoe around you. The fact that you all love Jason Todd dearly.
You’re just glad that you click with them as well as you did all that time ago with Jason. Who, by the way, is still MIA. It’s been a good while since you saw him. Where could he be?
“Do you want some?” a voice suddenly says, interrupting your thoughts and making you turn towards its source.
Well, looks like the meeting-your-boyfriend’s-family night isn’t over.
Tim Drake stands on the doorway, holding two glasses of champagne. He’s wearing a suit as well but his appearance isn’t as neat as Dick’s or Damian’s. His hair is slightly tousled and his tie is loosened around his neck. His blue eyes, a shade lighter than Dick’s, look kindly at you.
“Sure, thanks,” you say as you take the glass that he offers you. The truth was that you weren’t a big drinker, only having a few sips on scattered special occasions during the year, like champagne on New Year’s Day or the rare instances in which you found yourself in glamorous parties like this.
You take a small sip of the sparkly drink as Tim comes to stand next to you.
“So, what do you think of the gala? Having fun?”
“It’s alright. You all do know how to throw a party,” you answer.
“What can I say? If there’s one thing we’re good at is appearances,” Tim says jokingly.
You nod with a smile while taking another sip, though this time you can’t help the grimace that you make at the growing bitter taste of alcohol in your mouth.
“Not a fan?”
“Not really,” you respond honestly, deciding to leave the glass on the outdoor table for now.
“Me neither, actually.”
And then, your eyes widen when, just like nothing, Tim literally throws the content of his glass, his untouched and what you’re sure of is a very, very, expensive champagne towards the grass and leaves his now empty glass next to yours.
Seriously, what was wrong with rich people?
You shake the thought as you and Tim start making friendly conversation. He’s telling you a story in which Jason faceplanted once during training, when it strikes you that it really is amazing how all the Robins somehow actually physically look like family despite not being blood-related. And it’s not just the coincidence that all of them have clear colored eyes and dark hair, but rather the way in which they hold themselves, something in their stance and attitude giving them a similar aura. An aura of shared hardships and experiences.
“I’m sorry that it took so long for us to meet,” Tim says after a small moment of peaceful silence. You shake your head and you can feel the shift in the air as his expression turns more serious and continues talking before you can say anything.
“I know that we can be a lot, and you haven’t even met all of us.” You tilt your head, listening, waiting to see where he’s going with this. “Things between us and Jason are good, though of course, like with any family, there are some rough patches.” He pauses for a second, leaning with his hip on the metal railing while crossing his arms. “We really wanted to meet you and we feared that something that we hadn’t realized had been going on with Jason and that he was retreating again by refusing to introduce you to us.”
You shake your head again. “It’s not that at all, Tim, I promise. Things are good. He just gets doubtful sometimes and needs to take things at his own time.”
Tim nods, letting you know that he understands. “I’m just sorry that we boarded you like this, we thought it might be easier taking the pressure out of it. Instead of having a formal family dinner or something, just meet you today in case that Jason decided to bring you. All in all, I’m glad we did, we probably wouldn’t have met you for a lot longer, probably until it was strictly necessary, if we hadn’t intervened.”
You’re processing all the information when before you can reply, you finally hear Jason’s voice again.
“Y/N!” he calls as he approaches you after spotting you outside. “I’m so, so sorry for leaving you alone. I was ambushed by the guests before going to the bathroom, then Alfred asked me to go help him with something in the kitchen and then Dick couldn’t fucking wait to ask me something about a case. It was just one thing after the other, I’m so sorry,” he rambles, a hand running through his hair in distress, knowing how you hate this kind of events as much as him.
Just as he finishes his rant, he finally reaches you and as he takes your hands in his, you can visibly see how his distressed state morphs into a relieved one just by being next to you. It’s like during your unexpected time apart Jason had been underwater the whole time and has just been finally allowed to come up for air to the surface and fill his lungs just by seeing you and being near you again.
You just shake your head and gently bring a hand to the nape of his neck to press your foreheads together so that he can ground himself and focus on you, showing him that you’re okay. You just know he’s feeling guilty for leaving you on your own when you two promised to be together to face the night.
“It’s okay,” you say softly in a low voice, trying to calm him.
And then, after connecting the dots between what Tim and Jason have just said, everything clicks. It’s not a coincidence that you’ve met Jason’s brothers one right after the other and that Jason just so conveniently had been missing from your side to prevent that from happening. You can’t help the small smile that pulls at your lips upon realizing what has happened, finding the Waynes’ antics and dramaticness quite entertaining.
“And don’t worry, I had company,” you add.
And just as you say that, you can see how Jason feels movement to his right and turns his head like a hawk to find Tim shifting on his feet. Jason hadn’t seen him earlier since you were the only one visible through the open door and once outside, Tim’s side of the terrace was covered in shadows.
You see the exact moment in which Jason’s gaze hardens staring at Tim, realizing just exactly what had actually happened, all of his family plotting to distract him so that they could meet you. You know that Jason isn’t actually angry, just slightly annoyed from the ruse and from being kept away from you, and now he’s channeling all of that towards Tim, making it seem bigger than what it actually is.
“Tim…” Jason says through gritted teeth in a threatening tone as he separates himself from you and starts stomping towards Tim. It’s almost comically funny how Tim immediately scrambles and bolts to the other side of the terrace, putting the outdoor table between him and Jason, extending his arms in front of him to protect himself as if he was some defenseless animal and not a well-trained vigilante.
You almost have to stifle a laugh.
Sibling dynamics at its finest.
“Listen, Jason, I-” Tim starts to plead his case but before Jason gets too far away from you, you grab his hand again. And it’s incredible the way in which Jason turns towards you and immediately his posture softens. Tim doesn’t waste the opportunity and escapes into the gala again, leaving you and Jason alone.
“It’s alright, they just wanted to meet me,” you say and Jason sighs, deciding to let the matter go and just come back to your arms, his hands on your waist, giving a small subconscious squeeze.
“Yes, but they had no right to play with us,” he answers, pressing your foreheads together once again.
“I know. But, hey,” you lift your hand to push some hair away from his forehead, “nothing bad happened. I’m still here.”
Jason nods and his gaze softens before closing his eyes, relishing in your touch. You close your eyes as well and you two stay in your embrace for a moment. Letting the night envelop you, surrounding yourselves with the evening sounds of the faded chatter from the party, the breeze rustling the bushes, the water in the pool, the night time insects and an owl in the distance.
“I think it’s time for us to leave,” Jason finally says, looking at you once again, having had enough of the social night.
“Yes,” you wholeheartedly agree, wanting to have your boyfriend all for yourself.
With that said, Jason nods, kisses your forehead and takes your hand firmly in his in order to not lose you again and you two make your way out of the gala. You don’t even bother to say goodbye to anybody. As you two leave, on the side of the ballroom, Dick, Tim, Damian and Alfred all stand in line, watching you fondly, glad to finally have met you and seen how happy Jason is with you. Before disappearing from view you give them a small wave and they smile.
You still have to meet Bruce, but that’s a problem for another day.
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When you finally get home and Jason closes the door behind you, the two of you having already decided that he would spend the night at your apartment, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders. Finally home. You take a deep breath, shedding your social armor. Jason feels relief too at having finally left the manor, because even though the place will always be a home to him, the very definition of the word changed when he met you.
Jason watches you mesmerized as you leave your purse on a table and then move to the kitchen to drink a cold glass of water. He stands idly in your living room following your every move, a cast spell on him.
You’re beautiful.
Even though your hair isn’t as perfectly done as it was at the beginning of the evening and there’s a tired drag to your feet, you are. You always are.
He still can’t believe that you’re with him.
The way that you move around him as comfortably as you’d do if you were alone amazes him. It amazes him that you feel safe enough with him to just be yourself, not putting on any mask like you did in the gala with the attendees. He’s just so immensely grateful that you let him see you like this, open and being so undoubtedly yourself.
You’re saying something about cooking something quick or maybe ordering takeout when you brace yourself with a hand on the back of a chair to take off your heels with the other. But before you can take off your shoe, Jason softly grabs your hand, stopping you mid-rant.
He pulls you to follow him and you don’t put any kind of resistance, letting a comfortable silence fall upon you two. The only sounds the passing cars on the street and the steps of your heels on the floor. Once you reach the couch Jason makes you sit on it and you watch as he kneels in front of you and then, with a care and gentleness that no one would expect from the man known as Red Hood, he begins to undo the straps of your heels.
And there’s just something in the sight in front of you that makes your heart flip in your chest. How someone as big as him gets down on his knees before you, for once him being the one looking up at you instead of the other way around, almost as if worshiping the ground you walk on, as if you were the one that brought him back to life and not some mystical pit.
Now it’s you the one that watches him enchanted, wondering how you were so lucky as to have him love you. He takes one of your heels off, his eyes never leaving yours for a second, and then gives your free foot a slight massage to help the soreness out of it and you sigh in relief.
How is he even real?
And then, just before slipping the other heel off, with one of his warm hands on your lower calf, you watch with your heart in your throat how he kisses the inside of your knee.
You let out a small gasp and it’s crazy how much your heart is racing because you just know that he did it just for the heck of it, an act so loving, so simple, with no major intention rather than the selfish feeling of wanting to feel your skin against his lips.
But what raises goosebumps all throughout your body is not the action in itself, but rather the dark sparkle that crosses his eyes upon hearing your gasp, promising you something for later, for when he’s drawing shapes all across your body, as if tracing a map signaling a treasure. Except that the map itself is the treasure and he’s just taking his time exploring it, enjoying it, admiring it, worshiping it.
Jason then finally takes off your other heel and gives your foot the same quick massage treatment as the other one. When he’s done he gets back up on his feet and offers you a hand.
You take it and he pulls you to your feet again. And then, in the same silent comfort that has settled over you, with the same care and gentleness that Jason has treated you with, you slowly undo his tie, your gaze still fixed on his, saying a million different things that do not need to be said out loud. Most of them having to do with how much you love him.
After you discard the tie somewhere on the couch, you undo the first couple of buttons of his shirt, releasing him from the uptightness that comes with them and you feel his muscles relax even further under your hands. Next, you slip his jacket from his shoulders and he helps you take it off of him while he looks at you with the same intensity that you regard him with, reveling in how you take care of him.
Then, Jason rolls his sleeves up a bit his forearms before taking one of your hands in his and then, with his other arm around your waist, pulls you flush against his chest, practically fusing you two together, as if he could never pull you close enough, needing you as physically closer as possible, just as much as he needed oxygen, if not more.
“We didn’t have a chance to dance,” he whispers then with your faces inches from each other, still not disturbing the peaceful silence.
You hum in agreement and before you know it, you’re already swaying softly together in the living room, both of you with your eyes closed, your head resting on the crook of his neck and his on your hair. There’s no music but it doesn’t need to be, you feel so at peace and content, none of the opulent galas in the world could compare to a quiet evening with Jason.
You have no idea how much time you’ve spent there, barefoot and wrapped in Jason’s arms, swaying to the sounds of Gotham’s nightlife and your own heartbeats, only knowing that you would gladly spend forever like this.
“Thank you.”
You lift your head to find that Jason’s already looking at you.
“For what?” you ask in the same soft tone as him, a lilt of confusion in your voice.
“For coming today.” Before you can respond he keeps talking. “For sticking around. For putting up with my family.” A pause. His eyes leave yours to look to the side. He shrugs. “Just… for being with me, I guess.”
Your gaze softens and you feel a pang in your chest as you see Jason’s insecurities eating away at him. You stop your swaying and bring your hands to Jason’s face to make him focus on you, his hands moving instinctively to hold your waist. But Jason’s still avoiding your gaze and you hate the doubt that you see creeping in your favorite shade of green.
“I’m always going to be here. I’m right where I want to be. I love you. And I’m not putting up with anything, I want you. I want to be part of all the parts in your life,” you say, softly caressing his cheek with your thumb, having the suspicion that these doubts have something to do with meeting his brothers tonight.
“I know. I just…” Jason takes a deep breath closing his eyes, taking a moment to organize his thoughts before looking at you again. “I just can’t believe that you’re still here. I have this… this feeling that one way or another I’m going to screw up and lose you.”
You open your mouth to refute him but Jason shakes his head, presses his forehead to yours, closes his eyes to concentrate on what he wants to say, and continues before you can say anything. “And I know, trust me, I know that you love me and that you’re not going to leave. You show me every single day. I was just afraid that if neither myself nor me being Red Hood hadn’t driven you away, my family surely would.”
When Jason finishes he doesn’t move, his forehead still against yours and his eyes still closed, as if he doesn’t want to face what may come next, and his hands on your waist in the same position, if anything, holding onto you even tighter.
Holding onto you as if it were the last time, as if his confession would finally be the thing that would drive you away. You close your eyes as well for a second and take a deep breath.
How can you even begin to express how much you love this man?
Your heart is bursting with how much you feel for him. The love that you hold for him begins in the depth of it and as your heart pumps blood through your body, it also pumps that love through every single vein, nerve and cell in it. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes. It’s something that lies beneath every single movement and action that you make, to the point where you’re not sure if what sustains you are your bones or your love for him.
And that love of course, is interlaced with the pain that comes from watching the one you love hurt. You know that Jason is telling you the truth, that he knows that you’re not going anywhere and that you love him. But there’s this underlying fear in him, an instinct acquired from having lost all the good things in his life, things that he loved, from both his mothers to wearing the Robin mantle, that makes him subconsciously always expect the worst.
That’s why he prolonged you meeting his family for so long.
Without knowing, he’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the moment in which the rug will be pulled from under him and he’ll fall into the void. He survived all the previous things, more or less, but he isn’t sure that he would if you were to leave his life.
Because now everything, every single piece of him is rooted in you, like the earth orbiting the sun, the very thing that allows life on the planet in the first place. And that’s what you are to him, a source of warmth, comfort and life. And he’s sure that if he didn’t have that he would crumble. He might technically survive it but he wouldn’t be the same.
But the thing is that just as much as he's rooted in you, you’re rooted to him. He’s the anchor to your boat lost in a storm, the earth to your forever spinning moon. He’s your anchor, your earth, your sun, your everything.
You know that the doubts and insecurities aren’t going to disappear overnight but maybe, together, you two can make them lessen.
“Jason. Look at me,” you say when you open your eyes once again, pulling back slightly so that you can look him square in the eyes. Jason sighs, not wanting the quiet moment, the infinite second in which he can just be in your embrace and forget everything else to end. But then he slowly opens his eyes, showing you his troubled thoughts.
“I love you. So much that I can feel it in every single part of my body. It’s like you’re part of my DNA. And nothing, absolutely nothing, can make me want to leave you. And you’re not going to screw up anything. Call me selfish but I want to be near the things that make me feel strong, like I can achieve anything I want. The things that comfort me when I need it most, that are always there for me, even when I’m not at my best and I feel like a burden.”
Now Jason is the one that shakes his head and wants to refute you but you move your thumb from his cheek to his lips to shush him. “The things that make me feel loved. And you’re the only thing that makes me feel all of that. God knows I have my baggage too and it still amazes me that you understand me, that you want to carry it with me, that you’re proud to do so.”
You take a deep breath. “So no, I’m not leaving. Ever. I’m always going to be here. And I’m very glad that I met Dick, Tim and Damian tonight. They’re nice and they have allowed me to see more of you. And if there's something that I can’t get enough of is you. Okay?”
Jason nods as he leans into the touch of your hand, his eyes bright with love and admiration for you. And then he closes the small distance between you and kisses you, gripping your waist tightly, one hand coming up to hold your face and deepen the kiss. Your hands drop to his shoulders and you don’t waste a single second to kiss him back as fervently as he does. He hasn’t answered to your reassuring words but you don’t need him to. He’s telling you everything you need to know in that kiss.
When his lips first came in contact with yours, he said, Okay.
Where his hands are grabbing your body so tightly but oh so gently, he’s saying, You’re what I treasure most in this world.
And as you stand there in the middle of the living room, being kissed like nothing else exists except you two in this very moment, he’s saying, I love you.
You could have been like that just a couple of minutes or a couple of centuries for all you know, always forgetting the outside world when he kisses you. And when you finally part to catch your breaths, foreheads against each other, your hand softly caressing the hair at the back of his head, the shine in his eyes tells you everything that his lips have just said and more.
Still, he wants to make sure that you’re aware that he isn’t going to let his thoughts eat away at him and so he finally whispers, “Okay.”
“Good,” you whisper back, your hand finding his cheek and caressing it once again. And then you find his lips again, because if there’s one thing that you could spend doing forever without ever growing tired of is kissing him.
And without speaking, your lips tell him something too. Something that he feels as certain as the sun, the moon and the stars. 
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!
357 notes · View notes
tinytinyblogs · 3 days
Note
Can you please do Stray kids members how they would act around the female 9th member
Welcome To The Team!
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Skz has a new member and they trying to get close to you, too.
Hyung line, Maknae line (Coming soon)
💬I apologize for the delay in fulfilling this request—I’ve been quite overwhelmed with a lot on my plate and feeling exhausted. However, I’m here now and ready to assist. I genuinely appreciate receiving feedback and requests from all of you, and it always makes me happy to help. Wishing you all a wonderful day!
Stray kids masterlist
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Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨
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Chan
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Meeting Chan for the first time feels effortless and comfortable. As the leader of the group, it’s only natural for Chan to take on the role of being the bridge between you and the rest of the members. True to his gentle nature, he has an uncanny ability to dissolve any awkwardness right from the start. There's something about the way he carries himself—calm and approachable—that instantly puts you at ease. Even if you tend to feel nervous around new people, his presence reassures you. It's as if he knows exactly how you're feeling, intuitively recognizing any discomfort you might have. What stands out most is how he helps you connect with others, easing you into the group dynamic without making it feel forced. He doesn't just leave you to fend for yourself but subtly helps guide the conversation, making sure you don't feel left out. It's his attentiveness that truly makes a difference. He’s always checking in with you, making sure you're comfortable, and adjusting the interaction to suit your pace. Chan’s genuine care and effortless charm create a space where meeting new people no longer feels daunting but enjoyable and even fun.
As you grow closer to Chan, his care and affection become more evident with each passing day. What started as a gentle and considerate friendship blossoms into something even more meaningful as he lets his affectionate side shine through. He enjoys being at the heart of the group, craving connection not just with the other members but with you in particular. It’s subtle at first—small gestures like sitting closer to you or casually brushing against your arm—but soon, he becomes more open with his warmth. Out of nowhere, he’ll wrap you in a hug, a gesture that feels both comforting and familiar. His eyes often linger on you, not in an intrusive way, but in a way that makes you feel truly seen. There’s an unspoken admiration in the way he watches you, as if he’s quietly appreciating every little habit and detail about you that makes you unique. Whether you’re laughing at a joke or lost in thought, Chan’s attention is always there, taking it all in. Sometimes, he would gently caress your hair, a soft, caring gesture that immediately made you feel more at home. His tone was always soft and considerate, and he'd ask questions to make sure you were okay: “Are you feeling alright? Are you comfortable? Is there anything bothering you?”
And while he’s affectionate, his care goes deeper than just hugs and soft looks. Chan isn't afraid to speak up when something’s wrong, giving you a playful scolding or a serious talk when he feels it’s necessary. His gentle reprimands come from a place of genuine concern, always with the intention of helping you grow or stay on the right path. But no matter the situation, he’s never far when you’re in need. If you're feeling down or overwhelmed, Chan is there in an instant, offering support and encouragement, making sure you know that you don’t have to face anything alone. Through it all, his affection and care create a sense of security, making you feel valued, protected, and understood. His gentle encouragement helped you find your place within the team, and he made it clear that you belonged. With Chan by your side, you never felt out of place or like an outsider; instead, he created an environment where you could flourish and grow, surrounded by the unwavering support of someone who genuinely cared. His thoughtful presence helped smooth out any initial awkwardness, allowing you to build a strong connection with the group and become part of the family.
Minho
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Minho, being naturally the most reserved person in the group, approaches new situations and people with quiet caution. During your first meeting, he doesn’t say much beyond a polite, brief self-introduction. He tends to stay on the outskirts of conversations, observing everything around him with his sharp, thoughtful eyes. It's clear that he prefers to take his time, watching and absorbing the energy of new people before diving in. With you, it's no different—he doesn’t rush to interact, opting instead to silently evaluate and adjust to your presence. In those early moments, you may notice him sitting quietly or exchanging a few words when necessary, but his true nature lies in how carefully he observes everything. He’s taking note of the dynamics and your habits, making sense of the situation before he fully steps in. Minho’s approach to connecting is slow and deliberate. It’s his way of giving himself time to feel comfortable.
After some time, you’ll start to notice subtle changes. Slowly but surely, he begins to make his way into your world. At first, it’s small—he’ll join in on a group conversation where you’re involved, adding a comment or two, enough to make his presence felt but without drawing too much attention. Little by little, these moments grow more frequent. You start seeing him join in on light small talk, his words carefully chosen but meaningful. Over time, the walls he had built around himself start to lower. What began as casual contributions to group discussions evolves into more personal interactions. One day, you realize he’s seeking you out on his own, initiating conversations that aren’t just polite but thoughtful and genuine. As you grow closer to Minho, his reserved nature starts to melt away, revealing a more playful, talkative side. He begins to open up, often filling the space with his teasing and lighthearted jokes. He loves to mess with you, whether it's by cracking jokes or poking fun at you just to get a reaction.
He has a way of spotting you from across the room and coming over to talk, even if it's about something completely random—he doesn't mind, as long as he has your attention. When it comes to helping you with dance practice, Minho’s patience and focus shine through. He’s always ready to offer guidance, paying extra attention to your steps and making sure you’re on the right track. He’s supportive but never misses an opportunity to play around, and with a mischievous glint in his eye, he’ll warn you, “One more wrong step, and I’ll tickle you,” his playful glare letting you know he’s only half-serious. His combination of care and teasing makes the time spent with him both productive and fun, and it’s clear that he enjoys every moment of being around you. Even though he claims not to be a fan of physical touch, it's obvious that when it comes to you, that's far from the truth. His hands always seem to find their way around you—whether it’s a casual arm over your shoulder or a playful nudge. His actions speak louder than his words, and it’s clear that he enjoys being close to you, even if he won’t admit it.
Changbin
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When you first meet Changbin, he greets you with a wide, infectious grin that instantly sets the tone for your interaction. It's clear from the start that he’s the most enthusiastic about meeting you, his excitement practically buzzing through the air. With his high-energy personality, he makes you feel immediately welcome, creating a warm atmosphere where it’s impossible to feel out of place. His positivity is contagious, and you quickly realize that with Changbin, there’s no room for awkwardness or hesitation. From that very first moment, you feel like you can lean on him. He has an effortless way of breaking the ice, making you feel comfortable despite the newness of it all. His easygoing nature shines through as he pulls you into conversations, introduces you to others, and helps you find your footing in the group. It's like he’s taking you under his wing, ensuring that you don’t feel like a stranger for long. His knack for building connections isn’t just limited to himself—he goes out of his way to help you become friends with the others, acting as the bridge that brings everyone together.
Changbin’s energy and enthusiasm create a space where you feel seen, appreciated, and instantly part of the group dynamic. Even during your first meeting, he makes you feel like you belong, as if being around him is the most natural thing in the world. Changbin had a genuine warmth about him, and though he was incredibly talkative, he was also incredibly thoughtful. He knew exactly where to draw the line, never pushing you too far outside your comfort zone. While he loved engaging with you and pulling you into conversations, he also had a strong sense of awareness about when to step back. If he noticed you growing tired or if the conversation began to lose its flow, he’d gracefully shift gears or allow you the space to take a break. As your bond with Changbin deepens, your interactions become a blend of playful mischief and genuine affection. You both find yourselves constantly teasing each other, exchanging nicknames, and engaging in spirited play fights.
Changbin often jokes about your height, laughingly declaring, “We’re definitely the shorty duo—don’t even try to deny it!” His light-hearted teasing and the friendly banter become a hallmark of your relationship, creating a dynamic where fun and laughter are always just around the corner. But beneath all the playful antics, Changbin's true nature shines through. When you’re feeling down or going through a tough time, he’s quick to shift his focus from fun to support. His primary goal becomes making you smile and bringing joy back into your day, no matter what it takes. Whether it’s through a silly joke, a heartfelt gesture, or just being there to listen, Changbin demonstrates that his care goes beyond just playful interactions. It’s this balance—between the fun, carefree side and the thoughtful, caring side—that makes your friendship with Changbin so special. No matter how much teasing or play-fighting there is, you know that when it really matters, he’s someone you can count on to brighten your day and be there for you, offering both laughter and support.
Hyunjin
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When you first meet Hyunjin, he may come across as somewhat shy and reserved. He tends to keep his conversations brief and polite, not wanting to intrude or make a fuss. This initial reticence is part of his nature, and while he may not be very talkative at the beginning, he remains courteous and respectful. Hyunjin’s sensitivity can sometimes lead to misunderstandings, especially when you're still getting to know each other. This might result in a few minor disagreements or awkward moments as you both navigate the nuances of your interactions. These initial conflicts are often a result of miscommunications rather than any real friction. However, as you both spend more time together and become more familiar with each other, these early misunderstandings will gradually dissipate. Hyunjin’s true, warmer side will begin to emerge, revealing his more open and engaging personality. As you both get to know each other better, the initial shyness gives way to a deeper connection, allowing for a more comfortable and genuine friendship to develop.
Once you've had the chance to warm up and move past the initial awkwardness or silly disagreements with Hyunjin, he’s quick to make amends by engaging with you on a more personal level. He’ll start asking about your hobbies, interests, and what you enjoy doing in your free time. This genuine curiosity helps bridge the gap between you, and as you discover common interests and shared passions, you’ll find that your connection deepens. As you both open up to each other, Hyunjin becomes more expressive and involved. He’s eager to share his creative thoughts and ideas with you, enjoying the process of exploring and learning together. Whether it’s working on a project, diving into a new hobby, or just discussing your favorite topics, he takes pleasure in collaborating and spending time with you. His enthusiasm for sharing his new discoveries means that you become his go-to person for exciting news or fresh ideas.
Hyunjin’s approach to friendship is rooted in a desire to connect and grow together. He loves finding new ways to explore and learn, and he values having someone to share these experiences with. When he comes across something new or inspiring, you’re always the first person he wants to tell. This constant sharing and collaborative spirit make your relationship with him not only more meaningful but also filled with creativity and mutual support. "Don’t be silly—I told you to wear mine,” he says with a playful smile, tossing his hat in your direction. Sharing is something he truly enjoys, and he’s always happy to offer advice or lend a helping hand whenever you need it. His willingness to share extends beyond just material things; he also values open communication and turns to you whenever he needs someone to talk to. Whether he's seeking guidance, sharing a personal thought, or just needing a listening ear, he feels comfortable confiding in you, appreciating the support and understanding you provide.
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sergeantbarnessdoll · 22 hours
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Shy Girl Gone Dirty » Tyler Owens
Pairings: Boyfriend!Tyler Owens x Girlfriend/Shy!Reader
Summary: Tyler’s shy girl goes dirty.
Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, female receiving, praise kink, pet names
A/N: I watched Hit Man the other day and the scene in the gif below inspired this.
Written on my phone. My apologies for any mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creator.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞
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“You’re home!” You say softly, hugging your boyfriend.
“I’m home, darlin’.” Tyler confirms, hugging you tightly.
After a moment, he pulls back from the hug to kiss you passionately. It was a much needed kiss. He just got home from two days of tornado chasing.
“What’d you do while I was gone?” He asks, pulling away from your lips.
“Watched movies.” You answered. “One of the movies I watched, this guy is a hit man. He met this woman and ate her out on the kitchen counter.” You described it, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“So that’s what you do when I’m not home. You watch dirty movies.” He smirks down at you.
“N-No! I mean yes- not all the time!” You couldn’t answer properly due to yourself feeling embarrassed about it.
“I’m teasing you, baby.” He chuckles, patting your hip.
You want to recreate that sex scene with Tyler, but you weren’t sure how to ask him.
“I umm…” You felt your cheeks heat up before you could ask him. “I want to recreate it.” You say, fiddling with his shirt.
“You want me to eat you out on the kitchen counter?” Tyler asks, making sure he heard you right.
You nodded your head yes. Tyler bit his lip at the thought of it. He grabbed your hand, leading you to the kitchen.
“Take your shorts and panties off.” He demands.
You obeyed him and took both of them off in on go, letting them pool at your feet. You stepped out of them and kicked them to the side. Tyler then picked you up and placed you on the kitchen counter, pulling you to the edge of it so your ass was close to the edge.
“Are you sure this is what you want, sweetheart?” He asks, kissing your lips softly.
“Yes.” You muttered softly against his lips.
Once you confirmed it for him, his lips moved down to your neck, marking you up. He spread your legs so he can stand in between them. One of his hands found its way to your pussy, feeling how wet you are. His fingers smeared your slick around.
“So wet for me.” Tyler says against your neck.
You gasped lightly at his dirty words. His fingers rubbed your clit for a moment before he sunk down on his knees. His face was at the same level as your pussy. You instinctively put your legs over his shoulders. You shivered when you felt his breath fanning against your pussy.
You gasped loudly when Tyler’s tongue licked your folds. The tip of his tongue circled your clit, making you moan out in pleasure. Tyler smirks to himself, knowing how much you love it when he does that. His tongue circled your clit a few more times before he started eating you out like a starved man.
“Tyler!” You moaned, tilting your head back.
You moaning his name urged him on. You bucked your hips against his mouth when he unexpectedly gave your clit a harsh suck, which you quite enjoyed. His fingers found their way to your pussy. His fingertips teased your entrance, making you whine in frustration.
“Ty, don’t do that!” You whined.
“Don’t do what, sugar?” Tyler asks, being a tease.
“That!” You whined again when his fingertips teased your entrance again.
“Oh, you mean that.” He chuckles lightly.
You whined and nodded your head. Tyler slid two fingers in your pussy making your mouth fall open. He moved them at the same pace as his tongue flicking at your clit. Pleasure took over your body quickly. It felt like you were on cloud nine right now.
Usually, you’re very shy, but you managed to come out of your shell a little bit when you met Tyler. Tyler sure as hell knows this about you… you certainly aren’t shy when it comes to sex, but this right here, you asking him if you and him can recreate a sex scene from a movie is new for the both of you. He’s all for it. This is a whole new side of you that Tyler is now obsessed with. As of right now, all of the shyness left your body. Sluttiness took over you.
“F-Faster!” You stuttered through a moan.
Tyler moved his fingers faster in and out of your pussy. He continues the flicking motion with his tongue on your clit. His eyes flickered up at you, watching your chest rise and fall as you breathed heavily. He caught sight of your nipples poking through your -his- shirt. His free hand found its way when your -his- shirt, sliding his hand up your stomach to your breasts. He gave one of your nipples a pinch, causing you to gasp out loud. He then cupped one of your breasts, leaving it there just to hold onto it.
Your back arched in pleasure when his fingers hit your sweet spot when he curled them right into it. You pussy clenched around his fingers. His name fell from your lips in a loud moan. The sound of his name coming from your lips went straight to his cock, making it uncomfortably hard in his jeans. He didn’t seem to care about it in the moment. He wanted to take care of your needs first. Tyler always takes your pleasure seriously. He also likes it when you cum first.
“Yes, fuck!” You moaned. “Please don’t stop, Ty!” You moaned again.
“I’m not going to, sweetheart.” Tyler says against your pussy.
The more his tongue flicked at your clit and his fingers fucked you made your legs began to shake. Your orgasm was coming faster than you’d like. You brought a hand down to his head, your fingers tugging on his hair. Tyler moaned against your pussy. He loves it when you tug on his hair when he eats you out.
“Ty, I’m- fuck! I’m gonna cum!” You moaned.
“Cum for me, sweetheart. Give me everything you got.” He says huskily.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your mouth fell open. A pornographic moan left your lips as you came harder than ever before.
“That’s it. That’s a good girl.” Tyler praises.
Tyler’s fingers fucked you through your orgasm before coming to a slow stop. His tongue gave your clit a few more flicks before stopping. Your legs were shaking a little bit at this point. Tyler stood up straight. You felt your cheeks heat up when you seen that you soaked his face.
“Don’t get all shy on me now, darlin’.” Tyler chuckles. “The way I see it you have a slutty side of you.” He smirks.
“Not slutty.” You mumbled.
“Oh yea?” He chuckles again. “You asking me to recreate a sex scene from a movie isn’t slutty?” He asks.
You looked down, avoiding eye contact with him. He’s right and you know it. Tyler tilted your head up and he kissed you hungrily. You moaned against his lips.
“Looks like my shy girl has gone dirty.” Tyler says, pulling away from your lips to look at you.
You whined in response.
“I wanna see what else you have in that slutty little brain of yours.” He says, unbuckling his belt.
🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️🌪️
Glen Powell Characters Tags: @cevansbaby-dove @djs8891
-Bucky’s Doll
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little-diable · 23 hours
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Crimson River - Tyler Owens (smut)
This came to me while overthinking a situation I'm currently stuck in lol. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: The reader and Tyler have been chatting online for months, and now it's time for them to finally meet in real life. Porn with some plot
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, some spitting, full on fluff
Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (2.5k words)
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“So, when will I get to share these songs with you face to face?” Her thumbs were hovering over her keyboard, eyes flickering from his text to her calendar. (Y/n)’s heart was pounding, beating in her chest while her teeth tugged on her lower lip.
It could be easy, too easy almost. 
“How’s the weekend looking for you, you busy tornado wrangler?” Heat shot to her cheeks, leaving her to burn up while putting down her phone. This was crazy, and yet she couldn’t find it in herself to back down, not when she could finally meet him.
Him, the guy she had been texting for months now.
Him, the guy she had first bonded over music with, sharing a similar taste. 
Him, the guy whose every storm chasing stream she had watched ever since he had shared more about himself with her. 
“If it means I get to see you, I’ll hold it free, sweetheart.” A chuckle broke out of her. (Y/n) deeply exhaled before shaking her head at her screen. This was crazy, but the best kind of crazy, something she desperately needed to rip herself out of her daily routine. 
“Count me in, I’ll book my flights now.”
……
Her thoughts were racing, just like her heart. (Y/n) moved with the big crowd, knowing that she was about to step out into the arrivals hall, where he was already waiting for her. She was unable to shake the heat sticking to her, still not fully realising that she was about to cross paths with the man she had been in touch with for months without ever meeting him. 
And then she instantly saw him, eyes drawn to him like a moth to a flame, a gravitational field that left her buzzing in excitement. His strong arms found their way around her, pressing (y/n) against him while she sank into the hug. 
“I can’t believe you’re finally here.” With a kiss pressed to her temple, Tyler let go of her to reach for her bag. She could only smile up at him, taking in the handsome face she had seen on her screen too many times to count.
“Thank you for picking me up.” (Y/n) tried to rip her gaze from him, eyes set on the crowd he directed her through with one hand placed on her lower back. Her mind picked apart every little detail, their height difference, the scent of his cologne she’d probably never forget again, the way his warm hand felt pressed against her back. All of it left her buzzing, tingling in excitement. 
Only as she found herself sitting in his truck did she allow herself to relax and breathe. Tyler had instantly managed to lure her into a conversation, making her feel as if they had met up numerous times before today. And yet (y/n) still struggled to realise that this was really happening, that she was so close to the handsome man she had fostered a crush on for quite some time now. 
“I thought tonight we could go for something slow, maybe watch a movie? And tomorrow you’ll get to meet the crew.” He shot her one of his signature smiles, hand finding her thigh for a second. The touch felt intimate, shooting heat straight to the spot while her mind hyper fixated on the way electricity kept pushing through her as if lighting kept hitting her over and over again. 
“That sounds perfect, thank you.” She could already tell that a weekend was not nearly enough, parting again would hurt more than she could even imagine at that very moment. 
……
The screen of his TV kept flickering on, casting shadows in the spacey living room. It had been a while since they had arrived at his place. Both had opted for some downtime first before they’d get to cooking and sharing a meal. Even though she was slowly adjusting to being around Tyler, it still felt somewhat surreal, like a dream she’d be ripped from too soon.
“Hey, are you okay?” She had her feet pressed against his thigh, eyes flickering to them as Tyler softly squeezed her skin. The touch made her sink further into the couch, hoping that the way he made her feel wasn’t all that obvious to Tyler. But the smirk slowly tugging on his lips told her that he was all too aware of the way she struggled to hold it together, unable to speak much. 
Only a hum broke through (y/n), a sound that turned into a quiet gasp the second he tugged on her feet to place her legs over his thighs. One of his hands found space between her knees, grabbing her flesh while the other settled on top. 
How in God's name was she supposed to survive this? 
“Talk to me, sweetheart.” Tyler stopped the movie without taking his eyes off her features. She couldn’t help but wonder how he was already able to read her that well, how he managed to pick up on micro expressions even her closest friends would most likely miss. 
“It’s just surreal, all of this, finally talking to you and being close to you. I knew we’d get along well, but,” the rest of her sentence was lost in the quietness of the room. Tyler’s thumb stroked along the fabric of her trousers, patiently watching her.
“But this is different.” He finally managed to finish her sentence, unable to bite down the smile both couldn’t shake now. “I know what you mean, I was hoping it’d work that well like it does when we text, but this is so much better.” 
Another hum left (y/n), she pulled her legs from his grasp to shift around, finding confidence in the way he had just expressed what she had also been feeling. Slowly, carefully almost, (y/n) placed her head against his chest, instantly pulled closer by the arm finding its way around her. Tyler pressed a kiss to her hairline before he started the movie again, unable to see the bright smile she now wore, perfectly matching his.
……
(Y/n)’s legs were dangling off the kitchen counter, eyes following Tyler around as he cooked for them. Music was filling the kitchen, playing a playlist both had crafted over the past months, their own personal blend. Ever since their moment on the couch, both had been unable to shake their smiles, hearts racing in sync. 
“Here, do you like that?” Tyler found himself settling between her thighs, looking at her while pushing the spoon past her parted lips. The moment had something awfully intimate to it, pushing heat through both of them. (Y/n) could only nod her head, not noticing how her legs had loosely found their way around his thighs, keeping him close.
Tyler’s thumb found her mouth, brushing away a bit of sauce clinging to her skin, a touch that made her breath hitch in her chest. She kept looking at him, getting lost in the piercing eyes that had seen more tragic glimpses of this life than (y/n) could ever imagine, and yet they were filled with a burning longing. 
For a few more seconds they kept holding eye contact, torn apart by his phone timer going off. Tyler had to clear his throat before he could focus on finishing dinner, trying not to pay her intense gaze any of his attention. He knew all too well that he was close to snapping, close to crossing the last line between them to press his lips against hers.
But as much as Tyler wanted to kiss her, to taste her like he had done numerous times in his dreams, he knew that he should take things slow. He didn’t want to push things too far on their first night together, all Tyler was focused on was seeing her comfortable and happy.
“We could eat outside if you want, stars should be out by now.” Her heart was close to jumping out of her chest, freed by the heat his words made her feel. Months ago he had shared a picture of the starry sky he was fortunate enough to look at whenever he was home, a sight that had left her to confess that she desperately wanted to see them too.  
“Thank you, Tyler.” (Y/n)’s words carried more meaning than he picked up on, not seeing through the adoration swimming in her pupils. 
……
“Tyler.” (Y/n) mumbled his name, eyes set on his features. They were still sitting on the bench outside his home, sharing a blanket to keep them shielded from the cold night. His eyes flickered down to meet hers, patiently waiting for her to keep on speaking. “Will you finally kiss me?”
Her words drew a loud laugh from him, he shook his head at (y/n) who could only grin up at him. Tyler’s hand found her cheek, wordlessly asking her to keep on looking at him while his eyes wandered over her features, “And here I was trying to be a gentleman.”
(Y/n)’s reply was lost on the tip of her tongue as he dipped his head down. Tyler’s lips ghosted over her’s, drawing a soft whine out of (y/n) as he kept a small distance between them. Only as her hand found his jacket, tugging on the fabric to pull him closer, did he properly kiss her. 
The kiss shot shudders down her spine, making hairs rise on her forearms while shuffling closer. Within moments she found herself straddling his lap, front pressed against his to cross any distance still lingering between them like two lonely ships crossing the sea to find back to one another, guided by nothing but their need to be close. 
Their lips moved perfectly together, the kiss wasn't rushed, but it was fuelled by their longing which had grown stronger over the past months. Tyler’s hands settled on her waist, fingers toying with the hemline of her sweater, set on feeling her warm skin pressed against his. For a moment they broke apart, grasping onto new air to fill their burning lungs. 
“Stop me anytime you want, sweetheart.” (Y/n) searched his lips again, not giving Tyler a chance to speak another word while his hands found her burning up skin. Her wandering fingers found his hairs, brushing through them to draw a moan from Tyler, a sound that vibrated on her lips and through her whole body. 
He didn’t speak a warning as he suddenly stood up, holding onto (y/n) to carry her back inside. With her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his waist, she let him carry her inside and towards his bedroom. Both were heavily breathing after pulling apart, chests rising and falling while chuckles broke out of them.
(Y/n) let him pull her sweater over her head, exposing her bra to his wandering eyes. The groan rumbling through Tyler made her grin, letting her hands reach for his belt loops to pull him closer, expertedly undoing his belt, “I know we should take this slow, but I really need you to fuck me now after all these months.”
“You’re killing me, sweetheart.” Their eyes held contact as she freed his hardening cock, letting his trousers drop to the ground. Tyler’s moans spurred her on, allowing her to marvel at the handsome man while pumping his length a few times. But Tyler didn’t have the patience to drag this out long enough, he gave her a push back, tugged her trousers and panties down her legs while (y/n) undid her bra. “You’re the prettiest sight, fuck, I’m the luckiest man.”
“Says you, I mean look at you.” She could only stare at him as the rest of his clothing was dropped, exposing his abs and his muscular chest – all while his fingers began to wander up her legs. He pressed kisses to her soft skin, sucking on her flesh as his fingertips ghosted over her warm folds, feeling her arousal already sticking to her skin. 
Tyler kept his gaze on her features as he spat down on her heat, spreading his saliva on her warm skin. He circled her pulsing bundle a few times to draw soft moans from (y/n), needing to hear them as if they were his favourite drug, high on her sounds. For a second, he parted from her to find a condom, to roll it down his cock, and to brush his tip through her folds. 
“Look at me, sweetheart.” (Y/n) looked up at Tyler, feeling herself getting choked up from the way he looked at her. Something she’d only be able to describe as love swam in his pupils – a love so intense it only grew stronger as he pushed into her. Her eyes instantly fluttered shut at the sensation, fingernails scratching at his skin, walls fluttering around him. Tyler held still for a second, giving her time to adjust before he dipped his head down to kiss her.
Their bodies met with every thrust, allowing (y/n) to feel him deep inside of her, stretching her with every move. With every contact even more sinful sounds began to claw through them, reverberating through his bedroom like a song woven together from shared experiences and unspoken longings. 
“You feel so good, fuck, Tyler.” Her words left him chuckling, he kissed his way down her throat, finding the spots that made her arch her back while she tightened the grasp of her legs around his waist. Tyler was fully focused on making her cum first, needing to watch her fall over the edge while knowing that he was the reason for the sweet sensation she was about to get tangled up in. 
“Touch yourself, sweetheart, make yourself cum on my cock.” Tyler’s voice grew raspier and lower with every syllable he spoke. Both were staring at one another, wordlessly telling them that they were ready to let go any moment now. Her fingers moved fast, giving herself the needed push with his name bleeding from her lips.
Tyler found himself falling in love with (y/n) some more as she came, eyes taking in every inch of her pleasure drunken features. He gave it a few more thrusts before he came, letting go with a groan while (y/n) kept clinging to him. 
“Christ, you’re perfect.” He pressed another kiss to her lips before pulling out. And at that moment, Tyler knew that he’d have to confess his feelings soon. Not tonight, perhaps not tomorrow morning, but the love bleeding from the tip of his tongue like a crimson river would pave the way for their following time together soon enough.
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The ABCs of Alastor - Dirty Secret
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
MATURE CONTENT AHEAD! MINORS DNI!
Words: ~1600 TW: oral (female receiving) while on period
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"Why are you avoiding me?"
It was a simple question. One simple question, yet the way he looked at you gave away the fact that this was far from the truth.
Alastor never seemed to be so good at comforting people, but with you at least he tried. He'd spend hours with you whenever you were sad, giving you his wise advice that most of the time implied killing someone. He'd bring you different gifts whenever you said you were interested in something. And you damn well knew he would murder someone who dared to do you wrong.
So it was kind of hard to understand why he avoided you so much every time you were on your period. Every time you needed him by your side, he'd disappear without a trace. You'd cry for days from how crazy your hormones were acting and how bad your cramps were and he would be nowhere to be seen. Why?
You thought that maybe it had something to do with his human life. Perhaps he was repulsed by the whole idea, but it was kind of hard to believe that someone like him would get so easily scared by something so simple.
Alastor avoided your gaze and looked elsewhere, he shifted from standing still to leaning against the wall with one hand still placed behind his back. You could tell something clearly bothered him, but it was hard to understand what. "I'm not avoiding you, my dear."
"Then why do you always disappear when I'm on my period?" You saw his smile faintly twitching, his ears pressed back on his head. "Are... Are you disgusted by me?" you asked, suddenly feeling a bit emotional at the thought that it would affect him this much.
"No! Of course not!" He said in a somewhat surprised tone, clearly shocked by the question and immediately approaching you. He stands in front of you, towering over you in height. He was still unable to look into your eyes directly as if there was something else bothering him. "It's just..."
"What?"
"Blood," he said bluntly, his tone so low that you could only guess that's what he said.
"It's... what?"
Alastor sighed, looking down at the floor as he did so. He was struggling to explain himself and his facial expression gave it away. He was ashamed, and his pride was slowly shattering at how weak he felt. "It's your blood, my dear... It makes me feel..." he was tapping on his cane, a dark blush spreading on his face. The sight of him all flustered made your heart tingle, but you kept it to yourself, knowing he wouldn't talk to you for days if you said something that you shouldn't.
"... horny?" you asked, not really finding a better explanation for his embarrassment.
Alastor's face went beet red at your question, as he slowly raised his head to look at you, a bit taken aback by your bluntness "I- What- ...That is-" He stuttered, speechless for a few seconds until he finally mumbled out something. "That's one way to put it I suppose, my dear."
You let out an audible 'Oh.' as you made the connections in your head. It made sense considering his preferences, but you never imagined it could have such an impact on him.
"Why didn't you say anything?" you asked.
Alastor still tried his best to avoid your gaze, now placing a hand over at least half his face to try and hide his expression. He was too embarrassed to speak, and he was silently scolding himself for acting like a fool who didn't know how to talk to a woman properly. "I..." he began but then gave up trying to explain himself. How was he supposed to tell you that he'd eat you up like a starved man whenever you got your period? How was he supposed to say to you he's so weak he can't even control his urges over a normal, biological process?
"You know..." you started, making him look at you, your face blushing softly as this new idea popped into your head. "I think we can... solve this... somehow..."
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"Fuck! Fuck, Alastor - Ahh~"
His tongue was driving you crazy, as his claws dug into your things, making sure you keep your legs open for him. Alastor was completely lost in the moment, his mind consumed by the intoxicating taste of you and the animalistic urge to lick every drop of blood, his senses heightened and all control slipping away. He can't think straight, can't even form a coherent thought, overwhelmed by the need to have you completely.
The sloppy sounds of him eating you up so eagerly echoed in the room, as your grip on his antlers tightened, a low growl vibrating through your body. His usual collected demeanour was long gone as his tongue pumped in and out of you, sucking and kissing your clit, desperate to consume you entirely.
His mind was a chaotic, primal whirlwind of raw need, every sense and thought completely consumed by the overwhelming hunger for you. He couldn't hold back even if he tried; every movement, every sound he made was fueled by an uncontrollable animalistic desire. He was practically snarling against you, his growls a stark contrast to the usual suave tone of his voice.
Your heart skipped a bit as his form grew in size, his radio-dial eyes looking at you, a hint of madness in them. His long tongue delved deeper and deeper, exploring every part of you. The suction and rhythmic movement made your head spin, and the sight of his now monstrous form between your legs was almost too much to handle.
"You have no idea how torturous it was for me, my dear..." you heard him say, the static in his voice almost deafening. "Smelling all this blood without being able to taste..." Long fingers entered you roughly, moving at a fast pace as a thin coat of red liquid covered them.
"Ahh~ Shit, Alastor! I'm gonna... Ahhh~"
His pace quickened as he sucked on your clit, the room spinning as your body aggressively trembled against his mouth. The sudden burst of pleasure almost made you cry, as your walls clenched tightly around his fingers.
The thin line between pain and pleasure threatened to be crossed as he fingerfucked you through your orgasm. The lights in the room flickered as his gaze never left yours for a moment. You shivered slightly, feeling as if you were about to be literally eaten alive by him.
His sharp teeth were full of blood, but you knew he craved more. He always told you how addicted he was to you, how much he needed to just have you completely. And he was going to.
His fingers were quickly replaced again by his tongue, the familiar feeling inside of you rapidly building up again.
"Alastor! Ah~ I can't!" you begged, feeling as if you were about to pass out any moment now, a low growl vibrating against your aching core. If you were being completely honest, you weren't even sure if he heard you. You squirmed against his grasp, only for his claws to dig deeper into the soft skin of your things, making sure you were not moving until he was satisfied.
Your knuckles were white because of how hard you were gripping the bedsheet that was now probably drenched in your blood. Alastor is in the thralls of primal ecstasy, his whole being hyper-focused on consuming you, giving into the animalistic needs that have taken over his mind entirely. The taste of you on his tongue, the sight of you writhing desperately beneath him, are driving him wilder and wilder, his self-control completely shattered.
You scream his name as you orgasm once again and you could swear you almost fainted when you reached the peak, even the feeling of his tongue sliding out of you becoming a torture.
Your vision was blurry as your body relaxed, the sudden feeling of his hand on your stomach, slowly caressing it, making you shiver. You turned to face him, and his appearance returned back to normal as blood was scattered all over his face.
He is panting heavily, the intense primal need somewhat sated for now, replaced by the more familiar persona of the charming radio demon. His touch on your aching skin was a stark contrast to the wildness he'd just displayed. His gaze, although calmer than before, still held a hint of raw hunger. He looked down at you with a mixture of satisfaction and exhaustion.
"Are you alright, love?"
The way he used that word always made your heart skip a beat, especially now when you saw him so hungry... only for you. You just nodded, not a single word being able to make it out of you. He let go of a deep chuckle, the sound reverberating through you, as he enjoyed the effect he had on you.
Alastor moved closer to you, his frame enveloping your smaller figure protectively. He gently wiped some sweat from your forehead, brushing away a few strands of hair too. He was being affectionate and caring, his usual composed demeanour returning, though you were sure it was not gonna last long.
"You're quite a mess, aren't you, darling?" he teased with a smirk, his voice low and sultry. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead before he got up, making his way to the bathroom to prepare you a warm bath.
So, no, Alastor may never have been good at comforting people the way others were, but with you, he always found a way. Even if his methods were… unconventional, they were his way of showing you just how deeply he cared.
And in the end, you were left to wonder—how many other secrets did he keep even from you? Secret passions, secret dreams... maybe even secrets dirtier than this one. You lay there, smiling to yourself, eager to uncover the rest of his secrets—one by one.
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Ꮺ˖˚₊ leeches, [ logan howlett x vampire!reader au ]
summary — logan howlett lacks of patience (and he can also be a nice little blood-bag while losing his temper). 8k+
warnings — 18+ mdni, fem!reader implied, blood kink (keep in mind you’re a vampire! not twilight but more of a true blood kind?) downright filth im sorry, dead dove do not eat, smoker!reader, endless tension, manhandling, praise kink, kind of porn without plot (LIES CAUSE IT HAS ONE THO??) my boy's into paaaaaain can't help it it's canon, age-gap at first (reader is her 20's but again, vampire), public sex (it just happened), daily reminder to wrap it before you tap it, p in v, choking, filthy mouth, pet names.
side notes — thought this could take place after days of the future past? au cause why nottttt ,,currently on ovulation season so bare with me,,, been a little mia cause i’m surviving aka going through the worst semester of my life at uni? internships are breaking my ass currently so well, here i am just existing, also, english’s not my first language and everyday i’m grateful for it, so any mistakes i’m not sorry in advance lol i’m also too lazy to correct once published,, feel free to send more logan requests since i've basically been a slut for him for a while now (i'm rotting in hell).
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He could swear the mansion got ten degrees hotter when you came in.
It’s inevitable. It’s this thing you carry, the way you move — Graceful, elegant, almost compelling as the air fills the room. It’s not public knowledge that you’re not a mutant itself, yet you’re presented like one, like you have healing factors and age painfully slow, but human after all, a subtle lie, one that can harm no one.
It’s safe to say you catch his attention in the most annoying way: How couldn’t you? All you do is this weird seduction he’s appealed to, whether you’re conscious or not it’s just captivating, an invisible force that even when you ignore it is there, there waiting for the perfect moment to flood every time you happen to be in the same room.
Captivating. That’s the word.
The room becomes smaller after, the air grows thicker, and it’s almost like a ticking bomb, the way you wouldn’t even look at his face while he’s noticeable pinning after Jean Grey, the mystery that surrounds you and he cannot seem to resolve no matter how much time he puts into it.
It’s like he's the plague. You don’t really try to exchange more than just a few words, only when it's needed and you cannot avoid him any longer, and he didn’t say anything at first, keeping his distance too cause he don’t see how you’d become friends, cause after all, what he could have in common with a girl that doesn't surpass the twenty years?
But soon he's upset about it, even when he doesn't really say anything out loud, it's a spike he cannot reach under his skin. You seem to become friends with anyone but him, mutant kids in your history lessons, the rest of the team, even the damn mailman when he delivered a package — You'd say hello like it's a long time lover or so, greeting people like they mean the world to you.
He has students now that are asking for a transfer from his class to yours cause it seems you're fun to be around, more like he is, and he fucking hates it.
It's fair to say it's been getting into his mind lately. That thing you do with your hair, twisting it in your index finger on a lock as you speak, the subtle red glow in your eyes he always catches by mistake, not enough fast to stop looking at you, pretending he didn't even see in your direction at first.
Tension. Logan just happens to hate tension.
In fact. He's almost sure your problem is personal, that you might hate him enough to act like he didn't exist at all, enough to avoid him like he was not there.
That's why it's just so weird.
When he finds himself walking down the hallway to the kitchen and he smells this cherry-scented aroma that settles under his nostrils, he changes the direction he's walking to, to instead, follow the path to the person that was silently smoking outside. Hiding. Maybe, a student he'll have to scold like the old man he was turning into.
No smoking in the mansion!
However, as the night is just settling, he doesn't recognize a little mutant, but instead happens to recognize you in the middle of the gardens of the mansion, close to the maze; escaping the comfort of the inside to enjoy a self-rolled cherry tobacco he has smelled before in the air. He's a victim mostly, cause his legs move on it's own as his mouth go dry, approaching you in silence.
"What do you want?" you ask when he's halfway there. And your tone is just cold as ever, not an ounce of feeling as he contemplates your side profile, the way the tobacco sticks out of your parted lips, seated on a bench hidden between bushes and trees — "Is Scott bitching about the smell going into the mansion already?"
No. He's not. But he doesn't have enough reasons to explain exactly why he's outside if you asked, why, all of sudden, he followed the scent of cherry knowing it was you the only one who carried a colts package in the pocket of every single jacket you wore, constantly asking Storm if she could hold on to the bag of filters for you while you rolled in the worst moments.
It's distracting, to say the least.
"Yeah," he quickly says, lying cause in reality he hasn't seen the guy in the whole day, yet it sounds like something he would say. "Do you happen to have another one of those to share?"
You don't talk much, hand reaching his as you offered him from your tobacco without a single word, the same that was placed between your lips and now was on his in what seemed to be something more intimate than what he'd like to admit, the cherry taste filling his lungs as they weirdly enough, shared a cig.
"Aren't you too young to be smoking?"
You laugh, and the sound sends a shiver down his spine cause he has never heard a sound quite like it, nothing that resembles that throaty, raspy sound that came out of your lips in amusement thanks to his words. He, out of all people, has never seen you like that — "And how old you think I am?"
He seems to think about it for a second, carefully picking his next words. Logan knows that women and their age are a tricky thing, you cannot say a number that's too compromising, nor act stupid and say something that's clearly not correct — "Not a day over twenty-two."
The answer pleases you, and he just knows he's wrong, but you don't seem bothered by it, instead, you nod pretending he's right, like he just got the answer right away.
He can see why everyone's switching classes now. Cheeky bastards.
"Twenty-two is not young at all, but i'm twenty-seven though," you say, and he scoffs at the statement, seeking for any change in your heartbeat, any sign of a lie. The strange thing happens when he cannot pick any heart at all, any sign of pulse.
"You are pretty young still," he says, against his age, you’re just starting out living—. "You don't look like you are twenty-seven at all."
"Cause I age slower than the rest," it's a practiced lie. One you know from repeating the same explanation over and over again, the priced answer of why you haven't changed a single bit in the past few years and made you a mutant — "I never looked my age."
Such a fucking liar. He doesn't need any heartbeats to confirm it cause deep down you are a terrible actress, he can see it so clear, how you're calculating every answer, thinking about the correct thing to say, the normal thing to say.
"Is that your thing?" he asks, playing pretend almost as bad as you do. Tilting his head to the side as he questions you — "Age slowly?"
"I have healing powers," you explain as he tossed you the joint once again. "My saliva kinds of help healing wounds. It's pretty boring."
"Boring" Logan repeats. The word itself sounds so damn fun in your lips it's contradicting. "That doesn’t sound really boring."
There's a moment of silence after that. Where you smoke in silence taking in the taste of the cherry, and he is having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that your lips also touched the side of the cigar he was smoking before, the plain lies you've been repeating over and over the last ten minutes.
It's almost infuriating. Makes his blood boil without question, he surely endures your treatment of silence, but being lied to? That's a whole different level.
��How old are you, kid?”
Your brows furrow in response, a clueless face. You are pulling out this show once again Logan don’t buy for a damn second. Something about the scrunch in your nose, the way you dismissed your own powers as if they weren’t enough. He knows it’s all a lie. He knows it even when he doesn’t really know you at all, when it’s the first time you’re truly speaking to him after your arrival to the mansion almost a year ago.
“How old you really are?”
You laugh at the question once again, and he just knows it, knows it when he sees you barely illuminated by the dim light of the moon, the act you always keep up, a web of tangled lies you have to be into— “Told you i'm twenty-seven already, didn't you hear?”
“Is it now?” he asks, amused by the sass, exhaling the smoke of the low-quality tobacco he doesn't understand why you're so invested in when passed it to him—. “Cause you don’t seem very convinced, it really sounds like bullshit to me.”
You're almost offended. By the look you give it's like the worst mistake he could ever make, yet you remain silent, not giving the satisfaction of an honest answer yet. Testing his patience like he did have one to begin with.
"Is that why I can’t hear your heartbeats, darlin'? Cause you age so slowly?”
The nickname scratches a part of your brain, and you hate him for it. The word rolls out of his tongue with an accent, smoking your cherry tobacco cause you happen to be nice.
“You can’t?” you’re good at faking it suddenly, at least, that's what he thinks when your brows furrow in alleged curiosity, stiffening your back, uncomfortable. “How weird.”
“Damn right it is” that's when you realize he knows you are lying. Even when you don’t talk much, even when you act all stiff and bothered when he’s close, he knows that you are fully invested in lying. In whatever twisted little lie you've planned, like it was your real life and not something you made up. “Are you going to tell me truth, then or do I have to find out? Does the professor know that you're lying?”
The smoke lingers in the air.
“How old are you?” he asks once again, demanding an honest answer this time — "Thirty? Thirty-five?"
You find his questions annoying, mostly cause he won't stop until he gets an answer, one that pleases him enough to leave you alone, the other part cause you happen to like the playful banter you two keep going, dangerously much. You don't hate attention it's clear, what you do hate it's the way he seemed to see pass the lie, to demand more even when he has no right to.
He enjoys being the one who's right though, Logan cannot help it. He's pleased to catch that look on your face who says everything but nothing at once, to have you where he wanted, almost at the edge of admitting a truth.
Is it payback because you've been stealing all of the little mutants from his class? He's jealous cause kids like being around you? It does not make much sense, but he is fully invested. Questioning all.
Even when you're outside, it seems like the air grows thicker. And Logan finds himself seeking for your breathing, cause he don't know nothing, nothing about you more than the fact you don't seem to have a heartbeat, or pulse and now, breathing.
“If you really are that eager to know, i'm a hundred and twenty-seven” the words float in the air for a while, and he's sure you're just messing with him, cause there's no way a pretty little face like yours had endured a century. “I've been alive for quite a while.”
He doesn't fully believe it first. Of course he doesn't. Logan's sure you're messing with him also, distracting him about your real age.
“And I supposed this do come from you slow aging powers” He tries to give you a point there, but it's difficult to be serious when you're just playing with him—. "How so?"
To be honest, you do have a little temper yourself, you've learned to stand up for yourself most of the time, so when you happen to notice he's teasing you, that he doesn't really believe you, you adopt this attitude of defense he notices as you shift over the wood you're seated in.
"No, it doesn't" you steal the joint from his hands to have a smoke yourself. "You really aren't as smart as I thought you were, huh?"
Do you happen to have a dead wish? His muscles tense beneath his shirt, and in contrast of his problem, you can hear it all. All the sounds his body makes when he's all bothered just by the beat of his heart, that annoying sound his bones make each time he moves.
"What are you?"
"That's it," the praising goes directly into his chest, the tone you use to tell him he's going in the right direction it feels just so right he forgets why he got mad in the first place—. "That's what you should be asking right there."
It's almost a shame having to admit he would also switch classes. That he would also go through all the paperwork himself without a second thought and that right there, is pathetic, but you're smiling at him as if you're encouraging the man to try harder, to find the answer himself, and fuck — He's old, too old, he's tired, he's in a bad mood as fucking usual, and he happens to dig a drink in the quiet of his own room, but he's pulled by something as equal as devastating as the gravity force, shoot towards you in pure need to have some answers even if he has to make you spit them.
"I find it strange, cause when you don't have a heartbeat, you aren't usually alive" Deep down he's fascinated, hazel eyes glues on your face trying to understand. He feels like he has it in the tip of his tongue waiting to leave his mouth as a catastrophic answer, but he doesn't find the right words.
"That's cause i'm not," you state it like it's something obvious. And just as he knows you're lying, this time, he knows you're telling the truth, blowing the smoke in his direction just to bother him — "Why do you think i'm teaching history after all huh?"
He hasn't seen it all, it seems.
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Yeah.
He's losing it after that night.
It’s known that Logan has sleeping problems, but that night specifically he thinks about something else rather than what usually torments him, a truth he also has to keep a secret now that he's learned more about it.
See, Logan doesn't expect you to be really dead. Much less to hear what you are and have been hiding this whole time from the rest of the people in the mansion — He also learns that you feed on blood, that vampires are a common thing in the world and that he shouldn't, at least, be that surprised when he's a mutant in a world full of humans himself.
You are a folklore myth on small villages, stories in Rumania and horror character in films, so you don't blame him when as you spoke, he finally understands why you're so damn attractive, so damn seductive as you explained more about your way of living, some memories you've been keeping to yourself since being a vampire was so damn solitary, memories he listens to cause he knows what it's like, to be misunderstood, to be eternal, to be alone as well.
It makes the two of you grow closer by the next weeks. You now talked during broad daylight about random shit at first, about the war sometimes, about your condition as he refers to when people is around, eaves-dropping on what you two are talking so invested in. Friends.
Simple as that.
And it's safe to admit also that in the course of the next days, Logan Howlett is a fucking mess, and he knows it, but he won't do anything about it.
He won't flirt cause he knows you're a hell of a woman, in every good sense of the word, that he's way too damaged for a vampire even, for all kinds of people out there, and as much as he'd like to say anything, he values your attention, how you switched the attitude of acting like he didn't exist to be a friend, one that you came to share secrets with a cherry aroma glued in their skin.
It gets him insane, to the point he's no longer spending much time with Jean and people start to pick up on it as if he didn't have enough headaches already. He doesn't care. Shit you are not bothered by what people say, and to be honest, he cannot seem to care either.
At first, he's reluctant of keep on talking to you as normal as it is. He's not really invested in religious themes, but he sure admits you're a sin by all meanings, a religious experience of some kind if anyone asked him — He agrees with what he has heard also in the hallways. Innocent conversations of teens and their platonic crush on their teachers. You are pretty hot.
He's so interested in knowing more about you, about the nights you spend in Rumania, when you leave to Canada, the different lives you've lived across the years. He finds himself looking forward to share his stories too, weird enough, cause he's over two centuries himself and he just craves to talk about it with someone who also gets him in a deeper level, that weariness that fills your body when you age so long.
You got the best of immortality, and instead of feeling envious, Logan finds himself attracted to you so much like he's never been in his whole existence. Not at the point it happened with you at least.
By the end of the first month he knows your little treats. You use a lot of sunscreen, and avoid activities outside as much as you possibly can with those classic, tiny black sunglasses that hided you from the rays of the sun, always in the shadow so unapproachable; how you'd usually dismiss food offerings from anyone who's kind enough to even offer you something, and when you haven't fed well during the course of the week, you'd become the most maddening woman he'd ever met.
Maddening.
"What wrong with you, Leech?" Leech. You've been in such a bad mood lately that when he's seating next to you in another random smoking session outside, your fingers twitch, clearly pissed at the nickname after saying multiple times you don't like it.
"I'm not in the mood for plays now."
He can tell from before. When you talked to him that very morning and stared at the collar of his flannel for what it seemed a good, nice minute, he realizes the same moment that you were staring at that pulse point in his neck, where the flesh blood was pumping in his blood flow: You're hungry, as any living creature would be and at your own manner, in constant control as you fight the sense of hunger.
So instead, the mutant ask, like he always does when he’s curious about something that involves you:
"When did you last feed?"
"A couple of weeks ago."
That would explain it. You don't talk much about your meal plan, he knows the professor is in charge of all of that. You've told him about blood bags and hospitals, but he's not really aware of how constant you need to eat, how the blood supplies most of your energy, makes you stronger, gives you vitality, so Logan at first, don't really know what its like to not drink any blood in the course of two weeks.
"What happened with the blood bags from the Hospital?"
The mention of blood out loud seems to triggers you. A groan escaping your lips as you can swear you feel the taste in your mouth — "Don't know. Haven't seen a single one this week, Charles said something about next week, problems in the bank I guess."
You're clearly worked up. It's a new look he hasn't registered before, your hair is tangled in a less-composed look, and there's a slight shake in your hands as if you're going through withdrawal, deprived for what you needed the most.
"And animals?" he questions, trying to find a solution. “Can’t you eat a cat or something?”
"Like shit i'm going to feed from a fucking animal," you're almost immediately grossed out, scrunching your nose at the idea. "I can barely handle being so close to a damn human but animals? I'd rather fucking die this time for real, no waking up."
"That bad huh?" the mutant asks, taking a sip from the beer he sneaked outside, chucking lightly afterwards. "So you're a leech with elegant taste, huh? Of course you are."
"Clean blood is rare," you explain, rolling your eyes. It's inevitable. He knows you hate the nickname so much that he insists to keep on calling you that way just to get a reaction—. "Humans nowadays taste like dirt. They consume drugs among other substances, pills, food supplements, even damn vitamins, don’t get me started about blood diseases cause it gets me in a bad temper. Every single thing affects on your taste, even what you eat. It's all registered there. Clean, good blood is rare to find. Call me elegant, call me picky. It's a damn fact."
"And what about mutant blood?" he questions. And it seems like a mere phrase at first, one with no subtle tones, he’s usually curious about your nature so you don’t pay much attention as he spoke—. “You’re picky about mutants too?”
“No, i’ve never had a mutant before.” The truth is, you hate feeding from people, the act being something so intimate, so damn personal, you refrain yourself. Killing humans, picking a next victim to fed on, is considered now a treat you don't appreciate from your kind, making you steal from hospitals and any kind of blood bank before Charles offered you help. You haven't fed from a mutant, cause you avoided everyone equally, but you don't want to be rude about it. “You all smell different, but i’d be lying. Maybe yes, i’d be picky about it too, feeding is something intimate.”
It's an undeniable admission, and now that he's trying to be in your position, he would also be picky about someone's blood. Logan remains stoic cause he’s suddenly filled by the thought of something else, a glimpse of his own weird creativity he forces himself to push aside, to really suppress now that it's not the time or the moment.
“How do I smell?” It's too late to stop the words from coming out of his mouth when he asks her. And at first, is out of pure curiosity. He has never encountered a vampire in his life until you, let alone had someone talking about the subtle tastes of the blood being undead, so he doesn't want to let the opportunity slip — Of course he wants to know if an over two hundred mutant like himself would be as remotely good as a fresh, clean bag from the hospital.
"You stink like wet dog," he surely deserves it after all the times he’s been calling you a leech — "Like those cigars you tend to smoke, alcohol, and musk. It's similar as wood. That smell you got when you're in a forest and it's not raining but straight pouring."
"Is this a way of telling me i'd taste bad, peach?"
You make a mental note to let him know after you like peach way more than leech.
"If i'd found a human smelling like that, you won't be hearing from me anytime soon" you're just messing with him. A playful banter you enjoy more than ever, the distraction you needed to think in something else rather than the blood bags you craved so deeply — "Hell, i've would just walked the other way."
"So i'm taking you won't be feeding from me anytime soon."
It all takes a dark turn there. You're very aware of the tension the last month now that you talk to him in daily basis, but it’s just mere tension, nothing that ever goes beyond the limit. Logan has never said something to flirt with you despite the million chances he got, and he always remained like a friend, one that you enjoy spending time with now. Cannot be blamed when you're taken aback.
“Cat got your tongue, kiddo?” Man. You're about to whine about the name before you remember he is indeed, older than you are. Vampire or mutant.
"You want me to feed from you?"
He seems so willing when you ask. Even when you teased about his smell calling him a wet dog. He just seems so eager to let you just do it, try a mutant for the first time.
"Yeah," he dismisses it like it's not something so deep — "I doubt Charles is going to let you take a bite since you could clearly kill him, and I'm not sure the others would be pleased with the idea of you sinking your teeth in them, so yes. Me, leech."
Logan Howlett doesn't really smell bad. And you don't know why cause he has all the ingredients to fucking stink, yet, you'd call him interesting. That's what you thought when you find his pulse point again, the vein in his neck you looked earlier in the morning, thinking just as the same you were thinking now.
Of course you would feed from him. Is it a good thing to do? No, in any other circumstances you'd decline. He's your friend.
Now? You’re having a hard time.
"So I'm guessing that you're pleased with the idea, then," Real talk?, you just want to hear him say it. He doesn't talk much usually, but now that he's very vocal about what's on his mind, you have to take advantage of it—. "I'm not sure either. But I do think Storm may be interested too."
He seems content with the response, taking a long sip from his beer before adding — "Please, go and ask her so you're less annoying."
You're almost completely sure he doesn't find you annoying. You also don't care about Storm. And maybe he knows you're not going anywhere, that you're not moving.
"You really want me to bite you?"
"I dunno now, princess" he looks at you pleased now cause he got you where he wanted to, cause he managed to awake all the interest now that you're looking at him "Are you going to pull a Dracula on me?"
"No, i'm not going to suck you dry if that's what you're asking."
Logan chuckles. He's a damn masochist. It's been like that as long as he can remember. It may have to be with his healing powers cause he likes it more than usual, but the idea gets to his head soon enough, all falling so damn fast: Your breathing would be against his neck and he'd take the bite like a damn champ.
"Yeah I can handle you," he says, aroused. "You're not gonna hurt me if you take some blood. I'll be fine and you won't be a pain in the ass."
He acts so gruff about it but you hear the sound of his heartbeat already high enough to wake the entire mansion, his labored breathing since he suggested the idea himself. He digs it, strange enough. Thrives on the idea.
He's a grown man already, and he can take a little leech like yourself.
It's clear you're hungry, cause it doesn't take much for you to accept, nodding like you're defeated, like you just lost the war entirely, cause there's no many options here to take and even if it were, you are now interested in have him more than any other blood bag. In fact. To hell with the hospital.
"Okay."
It's a simple answer, and it sure works with him as you get close to him, the bench you always used to sit now seeming so small as you look around confirming you guys really are alone—. "You won't tell anyone?"
It's something stupid to ask, cause after all that time he has never said anything, keeping your secrets as if they were his own, saving you from weird questions people get sometimes as they didn't know much about you. He's clearly not going to say nothing at all.
"Are you going to stop whining for a second and just eat darlin'? Cause I might change my mind here."
He's feeling overload soon after.
You don’t need a formal invitation to lean closer to his neck.
There's no way to describe it also cause he has never seen something like that, never felt a similar sensation more than when he's fucking, the cold touch of your fingers in his chest, taunting the vein in his neck without a previous warning before leaning in even closer than before—. "Stay still" you demand, face close against his bare skin, only one goal in mind. "Don't move for a minute. Just-"
You cannot finish the sentence, and Logan can experience the sporadic pain of the bite first hand when your teeth finally sink in his neck, piercing the flesh so easily as you let the blood fill your mouth. He grunts at the sharp pain, his face contracting momentarily before it's replaced by a nice wave of pleasure, one that hits him right in the guts as he grabs you by the nape of your neck, pushing you against him, almost demanding you to be closer, to keep on taking what you want, what you've been craving for two weeks.
When did he turned into this perverted sick? Getting off by something so primal as the fact you're feasting on him.
The feeling of your lips and the clear suck you gave when feeding are sending him into a spiral, and to be honest, he didn't expect to be so devastated by you, by the way your fingers stay against his chest to prevent him from moving, pinning the mutant between the wood bench and yourself so he won’t move, won’t do anything unless you want him to,pressing on the wound to draw more blood out.
"You heal so damn fast," you complain, looking at the traces of your bite with an unpleased face as they disappeared on his skin as fast as you created them.
"Then bite me again. I don't care."
You chuckle before leaning once again, and you can feel how the air grows hotter than how it was usually, the shift on his breathing as you bite him again, pressing on the wounds once again just to suck.
And you’re hungry, it’s the whole deal. His taste differs from what you believe at first, a huge change from what humans taste like, from what you’re used to deal with in hospitals. There’s a subtle taste of alcohol yes, but it mixes good with the sweet taste of honey, the weird taste you cannot put into words. It must be a mutant thing for sure cause it’s thicker than usual, a mix of flavors that explode in your tongue.
The headache you suffered from the whole week seems to dissapear as you drink in, feeding the monster you responded to in your stomach, demanding you to make him bleed more, to satisfy yourself until you can’t have any more.
Logan, on the other hand, is really fighting against his very own war.
You’re already close enough, but he just wants you damn closer, as much as he possibly can. It’s clear that well, it hurts slightly, but he has endured much worse, means nothing when it’s the pleasure that comes with it who strikes on his body, the light sucking, the idea you’re full of his blood, that you are not on trouble as you were before thanks to him. All because of him.
He's not used to acts on his impulses, but he does it anyway.
"C'mere" he says in a strangled voice, Logan's having no trouble moving you around, grabbing you by the hips to make you straddle him, keeping you glued to his neck as he doesn't want to disturb you—. "You really are a pretty leech, huh?”
You hum against his skin, pleased at the contact, and when he realizes you’re not complaining about his actions, he let his fingers grip your tights, keeping you against him.
You can hear him making this sound, quite like a moan but not exactly when you’re licking the holes you left in his skin, he does heal fast and don’t need any of your help when you’re done, but you coat his skin with your saliva anyway just to speed up the process, cause you want to do it, looking down to him after to check if he’s pale or nearly dead. You never really know.
And Logan himself is just fine cause his fingers gather the blood under your lip when he takes the sight of you sitting in his lap as the pearly white rays of moonlight makes your skin shine, and he pushes them inside your mouth so you don't waste any drop of what it can be considered food.
"So what's the final verdict?" he asks as his hands are now grabbing your tights, there's something so intimate about the moment, so personal, hot as he presses his fingers against the flesh of your muscles, he understand what you said before—. "Do I taste like utter shit?"
"Well, i’d need another taste to have my final decision" he laughs, and he don't really laugh often so the unexpected sound sends a shiver down your spine now that you’ve heard the sound quite a while now—. "Not much, just a little."
“Have you fill then, peach” He encourages you. “I want you full so you don’t whine the rest of the week.”
You don’t have any heartbeat, but if you did, it would be ragging in your ears at his words. At the warmth he’s spreading like a disease on her body that, despite being dead and cold, you can feel more than ever.
“I like peach,” you admit, this time pressing a soft kiss before directly hurt him—. “Leech is annoying.”
He’s going to say something, tease you about it maybe but he’s interrupted by the nice feeling of what he considers are your fangs tearing his skin apart, familiarity hitting him all sudden as he moans, a rough sound that comes from the deep of his throat, hands coming down to squeeze your ass, making you gasp against his neck when you experience the aching need physically forming in his pants.
“Still,” you say, concentrated on not allowing the wounds to close. But at the lack of complaints on what he's doing, Logan’s hands kept wandering around, making you move against his now clearly stiffed cock—. “Fuck’s sake I said still.”
“Stop being a damn brat. You can eat while I move you,” he grunts annoyed, shoving you against him, the friction of his jeans against the thin fabric of your shorts is enough to keep you quiet: Feeding from a stranger and feeding from a person you’re attracted to are two different things, especially in the position you find yourself in. “You don’t have to do anything. Quit whining about it.”
In response, your fingers press against the wound, not caring if it hurts or if it bothers him, but just enough to get him to bleed more and prevent the cut from closing, lapping at the blood that gathered over his collarbone, staining his white tank before you could even avoid it.
Your fingers grab the fabric just to pull it slightly down so it won't bother you, and the deep sound his chest make when he mocks about your desperation is stuck on your brain for the next couple of minutes, indulging in his taste, shutting up the rest of the world.
A moan comes out of your lips, muffling it against his skin. You're too zoomed out to hear it, but he's on a hell of a ride too, moaning as he demands more. It's been a while since the last time you did something like that, combine the pleasure of something as primal as eating with a mundane activity like sex, so you kind of forgot how good it felt, blaming yourself from depriving from something so needed.
"Do you always get this turned on when someone bites you?"
"No" Logan answers as you finish. He's rock hard beneath you, and he lets you know it when he's controlling the movement of your hips, working you against him at a slow pace—. "See, the woman i'm trying to seduce don't usually bite me, nor make me their main dinner plate."
You whine at the friction.
He looks down to the cause of all his damn problems just to notice his pants being damped with nothing but a physical form of need, soothing the uncomfortable fabric of his blue jeans — "So wet for me already, you’re making a damn mess, do you always get this turned on when feeding?"
Cheeky bastard.
He's using your own words against you, and you cannot be less bothered as you laugh softly, licking your lips only cause you know there's dried blood in them, drowned in his smell, the honey taste that lingered in your mouth.
“No, I don’t.”
At the sight, Logan's hand grabs your jaw in a rough movement, making you look at him before making you kiss him, deepening the contact as fast as you give him the chance. His tongue is soon invading your bucal cavity as he takes control of it, slow, intense and needy, as if he was holding on so much time before giving in to his own desires.
It is something like that.
You don't need to breathe in daily basis, but there's a burning sensation in your chest of wanting, of infinite lust you've been also experiencing by yourself.
The old mutant can taste his own blood in your mouth, a metallic taste as he keeps on kissing you until your lips are pink and puffed. He has thought so much about it that now that he has the opportunity, he devours as if he's a starved man having his first meal in what seems are ages.
"You didn't tell me if I tasted bad."
You think about it for a second.
"I'm afraid you're a rare breed cause it doesn't make any sense" You don't need any help now moving, cause you're rolling your hips on top of him at your own pace, allowing him to use his hands for something else—. “You have all the ingredients to taste like shit, but it's nothing but the contrary, even better than the fucking blood bags.”
“Sounds like your going to make me your meal plan, darlin. I’m here offering you a hand and you just take everything,” — “Such a greedy little vampire.”
He doesn't seem to care though, same as before he's nothing but willing to let you take everything as much as he tries to bark about it. He's more worried about his hands now that they're sliding down your oversized shirt, tracing patterns over your stomach, his touch so hot against your usually cold temperature.
"Logan," you whine,— "Someone can see us out here."
"Now you care about that?" his hazel eyes are a shade darker when he speaks. "After you're nice and full of my blood?"
His hands are big enough to take your whole cunt, allowing his digits to roam over the fabric of your underwear, almost thanking you for using those loosened pajama shorts he has seen before that very night as he just takes the fabric and pull it to the side.
"Nobody is going to see us. It's late and everyone's sleeping, leech" he teases you, and you cannot bring yourself to care about the nickname at the feeling of his hand taunting you from over the fabric—. "If you can bite me here outside, you might as well take my cock here too."
You cannot battle against that. You're deep in whatever spell he puts you into, giving in to the attraction and the tension that now needs to be taken care of. Logan's fingers touch you in nothing but experience, cause he knows how to please after so much time alive, how much pressure he needs to apply to leave you plain dumb, pliable for him.
"D'you think I need to stretch you out before fucking you?" he asks against your neck after leaving a reasonable-sized hickey in the zone, he likes the idea of people finding out about what you've been doing with him the next morning. "Or you're a big girl and can take me all by yourself?"
He'd like to take your time with you. Thoroughly enjoy you as much as he wants to, let everyone know you're his now, that you're shuddering thanks to him only, but he's too needy for that, too deprived of you to take his time.
"I want you to use that pretty mouth of yours and talk to me," he demands, coming up to look at your face while torturing you, his index and middle finger rubbing your clit from over the underwear—. "I'm not properly touching you yet and you're losing it already, peach. C'mon, you can talk to me still."
"I can take you," you say in a strangled voice. "Please Logan, please."
It's the plea of your tone that gets him, the soft begging of an ache he can only soothe, your face while you ask for more, not aware of anything else but him.
"Please what?"
"Please just fuck me already," you ask in frustration—. "I just need you to fill me up for a damn while."
You are starting to love the sound of his laugh. The deep sound he makes when he’s really enjoying something, his voice in damn general.
"Be a good little vampire" He says in a gentle tone. Logan’s trying to be kind even when his touch is so rough. "Unbuckle my pants and take my cock out. My hands are busy now, and you can do it yourself."
He is busy indeed. Toying with your underwear being the only thing that’s keeping him from the direct contact, pushing the fabric against your hole as it works as a barrier, preventing his digits to fuck you as he’d like to. He’s busy keeping you in place, preventing you from downright melt as your hands came up to unbuckle his belt first, the sound of the metal as it moves filling the air for a couple of seconds before you put all your attention in the button of his jeans, the zipper coming down with the force you’re using.
“Yeah baby,” he praises—. “You’re doing so good, keep going.”
When you pull the fabric of his briefs down, he’s already leaking for you, pink head, slightly curved to the side, moaning, erratically how much he needs your hands on him, how you're wet and ready for his cock. You close your fist around him, stroking slowly as your hips lift up enough to position yourself on top of him.
He’s big. Damn fucking right he is, you’d expected it from before cause sometimes you swear you can see his full length in his jeans, but taking him in your hand is a struggle but itself.
“Are you going to take me yourself or do you need my help? I know you can.”
Despite his words, he does help. Grabbing the black fabric of your underwear to finally make it to the side, the tip of his dick pushing against your clit before he's the one to place it in your leaky hole, forcing himself slowly, giving you time to take him in, inch by inch.
“Good girl," he says, head rolling backwards for a brief moment as he experiences the warm sensation of your walls surrounding him, clenching against his cock as he keeps one hand on your hip, helping you as you lower yourself over him. "Let me look at you.”
His fingers grab your jaw, squeezing you as he makes you look back at him, pushing you once again as you holded a loud moan. He's stretching you at his need.
"One more time," he begs. "One more time and you got it, peach. You're almost there."
Jesus fuck. You can feel yourself getting dizzy. You've drank a lot of blood and you're now overwhelmed by this intense pleasure that formed in your lower stomach, gathering there and waiting for the perfect moment to explode—. "Fuck I-"
Logan's pampering you with kisses as a mere distraction, his lips travelling through your neck to your collarbone before you're finally seated on top of him, a muffled moan you need to shut filling the calm of the night.
"Fuck you're tight," he exhales, and he's lost in the sensation, the way your velvety walls welcome him inside. He stays still for a moment, giving you time to adjust, to make you the one who starts moving on top of him.
You can see his veins popping up. All over his chest and coming down to his shoulders and his arms, and god gracious — He smells so fucking good you’re tempted to ask if you can have a bite again.
The moment feels longer than usual, the seconds pass slowly as you stay there. Logan’s hands are just touching your skin from under your oversized t-shirt, taking in the low moans you gave him, the almost perceptible whispers as you get used to him, to his size.
He likes the intimacy of it, the bliss. Man you look so pretty in his lap when the light of the moon is stripping you all to his eyes, even if you’re fully dressed an he’s seated in a damn bench, he cannot enjoy it more, pulling you in for a needy kiss, one that is rougher than the first one and leads you to move inevitably.
His cock pushes past that nice spot inside, and the friction is enough to make you move again, rocking your hips at a slow pace for a few seconds. The sound of your moans is silenced by his demanding kisses, and now that he knows you can handle him, his grip on your hips turn more firm now, squeezing the skin there so he can control your speed, the rythm of your movements now faster than before.
“Shh, don’t whine” what he lacks of vocal usually, he pours it all in just fucking, talking you through it when he feels you’re being too loud—. “Do you want to wake the others? We can’t have them seeing you like this, all fed up and cock-drunk.”
“Let me bite you again,” you ask soon enough. And it takes a lot to do it, cause you’re doing it out of pure greed, cause you can’t have enough.
“Take whatever you want, leech, just don’t make me faint” he jokes, his panted breathing betraying him as he moans, incredibly interested in the idea—. “Want to be conscious when you cum all over my dick.”
Logan’s sure your eyes glisten in a red color as you lean over his neck. And this time is less affectionate, much less gentle as you finally bite him again, teeth piercing the flesh so easily his hips jolts against you in response of the sharp pain your fangs create, the warm sensation of his blood in contrast of your cold touch, tongue-licking all you get from him.
And fuck it feels good.
He shrudders beneath you, shaking his head just slightly at reflex of pain before continue working his way with you, placing his hand between your tights as he lets his fingers rub on your sensitive clit, just enough to make you bite on his neck harder, the lewd sounds of your cunt taking him between holded moans as you suck on his neck.
“That’s it taking me so good,” He praises — “You like that, princess? Like how you’re full of me?”
You hum against his skin. The blood coates your chin as it goes down through his chest, staining his white tank for a couple of seconds before the holes your teeth made finally closes on their own.
It’s pure ecstasy. He can feel it when you clenching around his cock, cheeks red from his blood going now through your system, his vitality, his energy.
You can feel him fucking everywhere. So when you kiss him it’s all teeth, bite and his blood.
The pleasure’s taking control of you now, and Logan’s dizzy from the blood loss, his body covered now in sweat as his words slur together, not threading any coherent thought.
“That’s it,” he says, making you bounce of his cock. “Gonna’ have you in my room then, all spread out f’me.”
His hand wrap around your neck tightly, keeping the direct contact as he chokes you. Shit. You don’t need to say a word. Logan already got you.
“James-” he’s too deep to question why you’re using that name with him. How you facade is crushing down now as you let go.
When your body trembles on top of him he’s already cumming too, the squeeze on his cock sufficent to fuck him up personally, his bruising grip on your hips shoving you as deep as he possibly can as his release hits him like a brick falling from the damn sky.
He lets you work for it, ride each second of your high, milk him dry as a white circle of his own cum mixed with your juices coated the base of his cock, his underwear now slick with your orgasm.
He’s struggling to breathe, to properly say something as you’re finally coming down from your peak, looking at him through half lidded eyes.
“Did you called me James?” he questions, and you’re a damn bad liar, cause he knows imediately you’re hidding something cause of the look on your face—. “Do we know each other? From before.”
You don’t know how to respond at first, at least, cause you cannot lie in a position like that now.
“Well uh. It’s quite a long story here.”
Before you can continue he gets up, making you wrap your legs around his hips before stsrting to walk to the mansion.
“Logan-” you say in a strangled moan yourself, still sensitive as he’s balls-deep inside you.
“It will be less than two minutes, leech” he responds gruffily,— “Need to get you into my room so I can enjoy you the rest of the night, and you can tell me all of it.”
He don’t care if he’s bloody or a damn mess as he squeezes your ass climbing up the stairs, much less if anyone see the two of you in that state.
“I want to hear all the details, Cause I have a weird feeling that this has happened before.”
You cannot find a reasonable excuse to say no as the man’s already reaching the second floor.
Logan’s fucked after that night. When he learned about all that you were before, weirdly connected to you through the decades.
It must be the bite isn’t? Shit. He’s more in sync than ever now that you’ve been feeding from him a lot the last few weeks.
Ah. You fucking leech.
my masterlist
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sugawhaaa · 17 hours
Text
ATEEZ SMUT REACTION
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Catching them watching porn + porn they watch
Warnings:: smut
Pairing:: ateez x fem!reader
A/N:: hey sugababies 🥰 I am currently working on my kinktober like all day every day (not really) so that's why I haven't posted since 1969 😬
Extra note:: San, and Wooyoung get a little snappy and defensive but it's not too extreme.
Ateez h/c masterlist ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏⊹ ࣪
Taglist:: @cloudy-lilly @dwaekkii
Hongjoong
Hongjoong was cuddled up in his blankets, very late at night, with his phone screen lighting up his face. He had one arm beneath the blankets and the other shakily held up his phone in front of his face. His eyes were fixated on the way the woman's body jerked with each thrust from her partner. It made his body warm and tingly and his cock wouldn't stop twitching as he held it in the palm of his hand. Soft whimpers and breaths escape his lips as the woman's moans grow louder.
Oh how he wishes he was doing that to you. Pounding into you until you cried from how good you felt. He turned to look at you, peacefully sleeping next to him. Now he felt bad but he couldn't stop his fingers, rubbing his cock as he palmed at his aching balls, begging to be emptied. He let out a soft whine, louder than intended.
"I'm sorry Y/N, I'm so dirty," he sighed, frustrated at himself. You turned to him with a soft smile, your eyes partially opened.
"No you're not," you lazily rub his cheek and he's frozen in place. His hands freeze and the video keeps playing at a low volume. "You may be a little...slutty but I like it," you smile. "There's nothing wrong with that," your eyes flutter back shut. "If you want help you can just go ahead right now...I'm not very awake but I still have a pussy for you to use," you chuckle and Hongjoong finally unfreezes.
"R-Right uhm," he looks back at his phone as the video comes to an end, the lovers kissing before the screen goes blank. "You don't have to baby I can...help myself," he nods and you shake your head.
"I'm already naked anyways, cmon,"
Seonghwa
He was going all out. He refused to hold anything back mainly because he physically couldn't. He had never been such a mess, he was a straight-up mess. His entire body was soaked in sweat despite the fall weather outside, his hair clung to his face in wet strands, his lips were swollen and red from biting down on them, and his hands were soaked.
He couldn't even tell what his hand, cock, and balls were soaked in anymore. Sweat? Spit? Lube? Cum? He didn't know or care. On his bed where his head craned down to look was his phone, playing porn. He didn't bother to put headphones in for the first time in his life because he was just too horny. He knew you'd be home soon but he didn't care.
A drop of sweat falls from his nose onto the screen of his phone. "Shit," The droplet fell right where he could see the woman's pussy being spread open by her man's cock. He growled to himself, momentarily pausing everything. He wiped the sweat off his face with the back of his arm and took a moment to look at himself. "Disgusting," he said to himself out loud before taking a deep breath and continuing.
As he continued to try and get off the door opened to his lover, you. He sighed as you opened the door, knowing his fate. "I'm sorry, I know you were trying to work,"
"No baby I was worried about you," you say as you go over to him. Upon seeing the state he was in, you felt you were in the right for being worried. "Do you need help? You seem very frustrated sweetie," you put a hand on his shoulder and he turns off his phone, not bothering to pause the porn.
"No. I'm just tired," he sighs before grabbing you in his arms and laying down. "Sorry I know I'm sticky and sweaty but I just wanna cuddle," he nuzzles his face into your neck as he holds you on top of him.
"It's okay," you pat his back and he lets out a sigh.
Yunho
He thought he'd be home alone for the entire night so he brought out all the lube and sex toys on the couch and turned on the TV with some porn. He kept himself entertained for quite a long time. He started by watching some hentai and rubbing himself through his boxers but as he fell into a rabbit hole of intimate sex sessions recorded and uploaded onto pornhub he got too into it.
He found one video of a couple at a hotel just going at it so passionately but still very rough. Yunho continously jerked off to this video on loop until there was a puddle of lube and cum beneath him. Just as he was at the end of his session, the last final surge of energy, he heard the door open. He panicked and scrambled to find the remote only to find it had lube on it.
He tried to press the pause button down but his finger kept slipping off. "Shit shit shit shit," he then noticed you walk into the room. "Y/N! Y-Youre home early!" He proceeds to jam the button in an attempt to get the porn to pause.
"Are you watching porn on our Tv?" You had to slightly raise your voice above speaking level for him to hear you due to how loud he turned up the volume.
"Yes! I can't get it to stop!" He cried out before burying his face in one of the pillows, the video still playing. You calmly pick up the remote, dry it off and pause the video before sitting next to Yunho.
"I'm not mad baby," you put a hand to his back and he just whines into it. "Are you embarrassed?"
"Mhm," he says into the pillow and you rub his back.
"Why? What part is embarrassing?" You tilt your head and he finally turns to look at you.
"The fact I was watching it on our TV, it was really loud and you walked in. And I also couldn't get the video to pause so you saw the kind of content I watch..." he holds the pillow up go cover himself.
"That's all nonsense," you giggle. "You didn't expect me to be here and if doing something like this gets you off, who cares?" You shrug and tuck some of his hair back. "And trust me, I watch all kinds of porn, this is nothing new to me," you kiss his forehead and you see his body instantly loosen.
"Really?" He blushes softly but he feels much better now, excited that you're here now.
Yeosang
You step out of the shower and dry yourself off. You dry your hair and wrap it up in a towel before doing your skincare. As you apply your moisturizer you hear sounds from the room next door. You assume it's nothing but the sounds persist and it sounds like Yeosang crying. You unwrap your hair and use the towel to cover yourself lazily. You rush into Yeosangs room only to find him doing pretty much the opposite of crying.
He had his legs spread as wide as they could. He was furiously jerking himself off as his hips bucked up. His opposite hand held his phone and the wires tangled around his body before reaching his ears. Out of the entirety of the sight, the most lewd and exciting part was his facial expressions. He looked so pathetic like he was about to cry because he wanted to cum so badly.
"Yeosang," you say softly but it seems his headphones were a little too loud and he didn't notice you there because his eyes were squinted shut. "Yeosang," you say louder as you come to his bedside. He opens his eyes and jumps back from you. He yanks the earbuds out of his ears by the wires.
"Y-Y/N, I thought you were still showering," he looks at you wide-eyed.
"I thought you were crying so I came to check on you," you explain and he sighs, leaning back. You noticed his body shine as he moved, the light showing off his sweat. "I'm sorry I just...wanted to make sure you were okay," You put a hand to his shoulder as he covers his face with his hands.
"I feel so bad," he whimpers and you tilt your head.
"Why baby? This is all normal," you pat the back of his head and he looks back down at his cock, still hard and throbbing.
"But I'm not normal about it," he sighs and runs a hand through his sweaty hair. "I do it in weird places and in weird ways, and I watch weird porn," he sighs and shakes his head. "I just hate when I get like this," he explains and you pat his head again.
"No baby, there is no such thing as weird ways to masturbate," you rub his cheek and he sighs. "Trust me, and porn it doesn't really matter at the end of the day. If it gets you hard and makes you cum who cares," you explain as you sit down next to him. "Trust me baby, you're healthy," you kiss him and you see a smile creep on his face. He looks at you and then nods. He picks up his phone and pauses the hentai he was watching, now not afraid to admit he was even watching porn in the first place.
The two of you snuggle up and chat about sex and your desires a little more, trying to comfort him and show him that he was healthy.
San
San was sitting in bed with his hand in his sweatpants, pumping his cock aggressively as he groaned loudly. His eyebrows were furrowed as he shakily held his phone. "Fuck I'm gonna cum," he groans out as he throws his head back. When he picks his head back up to see the mess he has made in his pants he meets eye contact with you. "Y/N!" He jumps and tosses his phone to the side while trying to turn down the volume. His cock still strained against his pants as cum spurted out of it onto his pants. You stare at him for a moment watching his face turn red before quietly approaching him.
"Hey, are you okay?" You ask softly as San keeps his head down, pretending to be preoccupied by cleaning himself.
"I'm fine," he says slightly frustrated as he wipes off his pants. You put a hand to his back and rub it softly.
"It's just...I've never seen you masturbate so aggressively," you stroke the back of his neck, putting his hair down as you do so.
"I'm fine," he growls back again as he clenches the tissues in his fist before throwing them out. As you watched him toss it into the trash can you noticed it was overflowing with tissues and your worry grew.
"San I'm serious, how long have you been doing this for?" You say worriedly and he sighs before finally looking at you. His eyes were watery and red, puffy around the edges, his lips were red and swollen, he looked a mess. "Oh San," you put a hand to his cheek and he sighs in frustration.
"It's been at least...four hours," he looks down again and you kiss his cheek softly. "I don't know why but I just can't stop, it hurts," he whines softly, suddenly clinging to you now. "Please Y/N, please help me," he wraps his arms around your waist as he turns his desk chair to you. He looks up at you with puppy dog eyes before kissing your stomach. "I'm sorry for snapping at you," he nuzzles the side of his face against you as he speaks.
"It's okay, you were just frustrated," you pet his head and he nods glad that you understand him.
Mingi
Mingi had his blanket stuffed in his mouth as he used your panties to jerk himself off. He knew it was gross but he couldn't help it. After having a wet dream he saw your panties in the laundry basket and couldn't not use them. Next to him he had his laptop playing porn at a rather high volume as the girl on the screen got pounded into the bed. "Fuck Y/N," he groans. "I wish you were here right now," he whines softly.
More groans and chokes escape Mingi's lips as your pink panties wrap around his cock. "I'm cumming, fuck!" He growls as cum overflows from his cock, staining your panties with his sperm. As his body relaxes he pulls the panties away from his cock and strings of semen pull from it. He moans softly at the sight before continuing to use them. Just as he started fisting himself again you walked into the room.
"Mingi?" You say softly and he jumps. He scrambles to pause the video and accidentally puts cum onto the pause button.
"Y/N! When did you get home..?" He blushes. You were supposed to be at a friend's house until after lunch but apparently plans changed.
"Well my friend had to take her cat to the vet so I decided it was best for me not to stick around," you then notice what Mingi had been using to fuck himself. Your panties. "Are those my...?" You come closer to him and Mingi is all around flustered.
"Y/N, I promise it's not like that," he covers himself with a blanket but you simply brush it away.
Wooyoung
Wooyoung always struggled to stay quiet. He'd bite on his knuckles, the bed sheets, his lips, his pillow but nothing worked. He just couldn't help but moan and whimper as loud as possible. So when he was furiously jerking himself off to the point his balls hurt from being squished so aggressively by his hand he couldn't possibly keep his mouth shut.
"A-Ah! Fuck, mmngh yes yes yes, I'm gonna cum!" He cried out as his fist moved at an insatiable pace as he watched the man on the screen getting pegged. Oh, how he wishes you were fucking his ass or squeezing his cock with your tight pussy walls ugh he needed you right fucking now. Just as he was about to cum you walked into his room.
He didn't stop his hands though, how could he? He was just about to have the most insane orgasm of his life. His head was throbbing from the tension. "I can't stop," he groaned out before exploding into his orgasm. Cum shoots out from his cock onto his chest as he gasps for air and all you can do is just stand there. He's left panting, his hair in his face, the sweat making it stick to his face.
"Wooyoung are you okay? You look...a little rough," you come over to him and notice the dark circles under his eyes and his red lips and eyes. "Were you crying?" You tuck the hair out of his face and he grumbles, turning his head away from you.
"N-No," he looks away from you before looking back at his cock, standing flat against his stomach. "Fuck," he growls and sits up. You look at him confused before noticing he was still hard as a rock. However, his cock was bright red all the way through, his balls too. His tip was slightly purple as well. Even after just cumming so much he was still hard?
"Is everything okay?" You ask again even though you knew he wasn't fine.
"I'm fine," he says before tearing up slightly. "God damn it, I'm not okay," he sighs and leans back. "I've been jerking off for fucking hours and I'm still so hard it hurts," he says as he brings his hands down to touch himself again.
"Wait," you take his hand softly and he whines softly. "You're hurting yourself Wooyoung, you should take a break," you pull his wrist and place his hand in yours. He looks at you desperately before sighing. He nods and lays back. You gently touch along the base of his cock and he winces slightly. "were you up last night too?" You ask and he nods.
As you touch him, even the slightest touch makes him jump but not in a pleasurable way. He seemed in pain. "I'll get you a cold cloth to ease the stinging a bit. I'm guessing it's sort of like a friction burn," you say as you stand up and Wooyoung just lays there defeated, clearly absolutely exhausted.
Jongho
He was always sneaky when he'd watch porn and anytime he got walked in on with his fist around his cock. He always hid it very well. However the one time he had to let loose his when he got an unexpected visitor.
He was curled up in his bed to the side. He held his phone up with one hand and the other was rubbing his cock. That's when you walked in. You came over to him and wrapped your arms around him. "Hey baby~" you cooed and he froze in place. The screen of his phone was in your line of sight and when you finally noticed you couldn't help but blush. "What's this now," you tease as you reach for his phone. He quickly pulls it out of your reach however.
"Nothing," he says as if you didn't already see the big "Pornhub" font.
"C'mon baby, it's fine~ I watch porn too~ I wanna see what you like," your words instantly shift something in Jongho's brain. He looks at you with wide eyes as he no longer tries to hide his phone. The kind of porn he had been watching came as a surprise to you. It was basically lovemaking. There was no heavy dirty talk, loud sounds or moans, it was just pure natural love making. "Oh," you say softly as you watch it.
"Is it weird?" He asks shyly with a slight smile.
"No, no, just not what I was expecting from you," you smile and pause the video, setting his phone to the side. You crawl on top of him and trace your hands down his biceps as you lay on top of him. You could feel his wet boner throbbing against you and you chuckle softly. "Did you get to cum yet?" You smile and he can't help but smile back.
186 notes · View notes
jihyoruri · 2 days
Text
❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 QUEEN OF DISASTER kang haerin x reader
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↳ warnings yn is a nmixx member , haerin is insanely infatuated with yn, swearing, fluff, crazy dorm activities
haerin didn’t have many idol friends outside of her own group. she kept to herself most of the time, and honestly, she was fine with that. there was comfort in her peace she didn’t need it to be disrupted.
that was, until kyujin bounced into her life. the girl was a burst of energy, determined to befriend every 2006 liner in the industry, including haerin.
and, as much as haerin hated to admit it, kyujin was hard to resist. her infectious laughter, relentless enthusiasm, and her skill of making haerin feel comfortable chipped away at her guarded walls.
but that didn’t stop haerin from being a bit hesitant when the girl invited her to her dorms.
“I don’t know…” haerin murmured, her gaze dropping to the floor as kyujin groaned in protest. the idea of visiting another group’s dorm felt… odd. it wouldn’t just be kyujin it would be her and six other members, people haerin barely knew.
“come on!” kyujin whined, leaning dramatically against haerin’s arm. “my members are so welcoming. they’re really peaceful,” she added, the blatant lie making haerin raise an eyebrow.
“peaceful?” haerin shot her a knowing look, one that said, you can’t be serious.
“okay okay,” kyujin looked down reluctantly, “okay, fine. maybe not all of them,” she confessed, “but at least yoona unnie is. she’s super chill! you’ll feel comfortable with her, i promise.”
haerin nodded slightly, her mind flicking to sullyoon, who seemed just as quiet and reserved as she was probably the one member she might actually connect with. but something felt off. one name was conspicuously missing from kyujin’s reassurances..
yn.
everyone knew yn.
she was the industry’s darling, a sweetheart with doe eyes and a smile that could light up a room. her voice was soft, soothing even, the kind of voice that made fans melt and left the whole country captivated. she was gentle, exactly the type of person who would put haerin at ease.
she was peaceful with the softest voice to exist, just watching videos of her talking could put people at peace.
so why didn’t kyujin mention her?
haerin let out sigh, looking away from her friends puppy dog eyes, “fine…”
kyujin’s shriek of excitement nearly made her regret it. haerin scrunched her nose playfully, rolling her eyes as kyujin threw her arms around her in a tight hug, already chattering excitedly about the visit. but haerin’s thoughts were elsewhere.
she stayed quiet while kyujin rambled about how excited she was, her mind wandering to the girls beloved member.
she doesn’t know why, kyujin not bringing yn up occupied her mind so much.
I guess you can say the beloved member of nmixx intrigued her.
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“get the hell off of me!”
haerin stood wide eyed next to kyujin, frozen in place in front of the now-closed door to her friend’s dorm
she watched in disbelief as yn shoved bae off the couch, sending the girl tumbling onto the floor.
“now now, yn that’s not even nice.” the older girl groaned from the ground, flashing the pretty girl a teasing look.
“fuck off.”
the funny thing was, this wasn’t even the most chaotic thing happening in kyujin’s “lovely” home.
haewon was belting out a very loud tune in the kitchen while yoona tried her best to help clean up the mess. lily and jiwoo were in the living room, locked in a fierce round of just dance, screaming at each other to “dance harder!”
and yet, despite the madness swirling around her, haerin’s eyes couldn’t leave the industry’s so called sweetheart, who seemed to have quite the temper on her.
“you know you love me,” bae teased, trying to get up from the ground, only to be pushed right back down by yn.
“no, i hate you,” yn snapped, glaring down at her, though her wide, doe like eyes made her look more like a pouting kitten than anything intimidating.
kyujin glanced nervously at haerin, who stared at the chaos before her. “it’s not always like this,” she lied, trying to save face.
haerin shot her a look that screamed, yeah, right.
“i know…” kyujin sighed. “i told them to be on their best behavior. sorry.”
but haerin barely acknowledged her friend’s apology, too transfixed by yn’s little tantrum. the girl had settled back on the couch now, a perfect smile on her face, while bae remained sprawled on the floor, knowing that any attempt to stand would likely result in another push
“so it’s all for show?” haerin whispered, her eyes still glued to yn..
“huh?” kyujin furrowed her brow.
haerin tilted her head toward yn, and kyujin burst into laughter. “no! yn unnie is a complete sweetheart. what you see is what you get, she’s just… well, a bit short-tempered.”
as if yn could sense they were talking about her, she glanced up, her wide eyes locking onto haerin and kyujin. suddenly, her expression softened, and she shot up from the couch.
“oh my, kyujin, why didn’t you say you were back!” yn exclaimed, crossing the room in quick strides. 
“that’s no way to welcome guests!” she turned her attention to haerin, who immediately felt her cheeks grow warm as yn got closer. “how are you? was the drive okay?” yn’s voice was gentle, her words pouring over haerin like a warm breeze. “it’s a bit loud in here, i know, but it gets better, i promise.”
“uh…” haerin tried to respond, but yn cut her off with a quick pat on the head.
“i’ll go tell haewon unnie you’re here. make yourself comfortable, haerin,” yn said, shooting her a playful wink before disappearing into the kitchen.
haerin’s face was burning now, completely caught off guard by yn’s sudden warmth.while kyujin looked at her, “told you, she’s a complete sweetheart, an angry one but sweet nevertheless.”
“uh huh…” haerin barely managed to nod, still completely dazed by yn’s charm.
she had never felt this way before, but one thing was clear she was definitely coming to the nmixx dorms a lot more often.
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haerin wasn’t sure how it happened, but visiting the nmixx dorm had quickly become part of her routine.
at first, it was all about hanging out with kyujin and adjusting to the group’s chaos. but somewhere along the way, her visits shifted focus.
instead of looking forward to catching up with kyujin, she found herself eagerly waiting for the moments when yn would be there quietly watching her from across the room, her eyes following every movement, every smile.
soon enough, her casual drop ins had turned into regular visits. she no longer needed kyujin’s invite. the group had welcomed her, and though kyujin was oblivious, haerin was only showing up for one person.
yn.
there was something about yn her soft demeanor on the surface, contrasted with her fiery personality just beneath. one second she was all sunshine and sweet smiles, and the next, she’d be fiercely ranting about whatever bothered her that day.
haerin found it captivating, the duality of her, the rawness that not many got to see. and somehow, haerin had gotten used to those passionate rants, sitting on the edge of yn’s bed as the girl vented her frustrations about anything and everything.
today was no different.
“i mean, can you believe it?” yn practically shouted, pacing back and forth in her room. her hands were animated, cutting through the air as she spoke. “i’m out here trying my best, and they have the audacity to say that about me?”
haerin sat on yn’s bed, quietly watching her. there was a small smile playing at the corner of her lips, she found yn’s fiery passion endearing.
yn's temper was always sparked by the smallest of things, someone’s comment online, a misunderstanding, or the fact that she lost in a game to lily the night before. today, it seemed like it was something she had read online, and yn was spiraling into one of her long, impassioned rants.
“they don’t know a damn thing! who do they think they are? it’s just—ugh! so annoying.” yn threw her hands up in frustration, pacing closer to haerin, her voice laced with indignation.
“and the worst part?” yn paused, finally looking at haerin, her face flushed with emotion. “i shouldn’t even care! but i do, haerin, i do.”
yn let out a frustrated sigh, dropping onto the bed next to her. their shoulders brushed, and yn turned to face her, her eyes burning with a mix of anger and vulnerability. haerin couldn’t help but be drawn in by that intensity, her heart picking up speed as yn ranted on.
before she could stop herself, haerin reached out, her hand gently resting on yn’s arm. “it’s okay,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “you care because you’re passionate about what you do.”
yn looked at her, the fire in her eyes slowly dimming, replaced with something softer something that made haerin’s breath catch. for a moment, the room fell silent, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.
then, before she could second-guess it, haerin closed the gap between them, pressing her lips softly against yn’s. it was tentative at first, a quiet exploration, but when yn didn’t pull away—when she kissed back just as eagerly, the kiss deepened. haerin’s hand slid up to cup yn’s cheek, her heart racing as yn responded with equal fervor, her fingers threading through haerin’s hair.
the moment was electric, full of everything haerin had been holding back for weeks. the fiery passion yn poured into her rants was now flowing through their kiss, both of them caught up in the intensity of the moment.
but just as quickly as it had started, the door to yn’s room swung open with a loud creak, and a voice rang out.
“unnie, have you seen—” kyujin’s words died in her throat as her eyes fell on the scene in front of her. her mouth dropped open in shock.
haerin and yn instantly pulled apart, wide-eyed and breathless, as kyujin stood frozen in the doorway, her face a mixture of confusion and surprise. the room was dead silent, save for the sound of kyujin’s sharp inhale.
“oh my god!” kyujin finally screamed, her voice echoing through the dorm. her hands flew up to cover her mouth, her eyes still as wide as saucers. “what is happening?!”
without waiting for a response, kyujin let out another yelp and slammed the door shut with a loud bang, leaving haerin and yn alone once again, their hearts pounding in their chests.
for a few moments, neither of them moved, the tension hanging thick in the air. then yn burst into laughter, her giggles light and infectious, her face still flushed from their kiss.
“well, that’s one way to get caught,” yn said between fits of laughter, her eyes sparkling as she turned to face haerin again. “she’s never gonna let you live this down.”
haerin, still slightly dazed, let out a small, embarrassed laugh, her cheeks burning. “yeah… i wasn’t expecting that.”
yn smiled at her, the warmth returning to her expression. “i wasn’t expecting this,” she said softly, her voice taking on a gentler tone. she leaned in, brushing a stray piece of hair away from haerin’s face. “but i’m glad it happened.”
haerin felt her heart flutter at yn’s words, her breath catching in her throat. she hadn’t realized just how badly she had wanted this how much she had wanted yn.
“so,” yn whispered, her lips ghosting over haerin’s once more, “are you gonna come over just to see me from now on?”
haerin grinned, her lips curving up into a smile as she leaned in closer. “ and kyujin, but mainly you.”
before the girls lips could touch once again kyujin’s muffled voice was heard from behind the door, “I’m coming in again! and I better not see any kissing!”
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ohtobeleah · 1 day
Text
I think one of the main reasons why the Worst!Logan loves you so much, without putting too much thought into the question, is simply because you ease the burden of being alive. You don’t ‘give him a reason to live.’ He found that on his own when Wade showed up and snatched his old, drunken ass out of his world and planted him here. But you ease the burden. You ease the pain of being alive on days when everything seems so…distressing. But when you plant something, it often grows roots. And that’s exactly what Logan wanted to do with you. 
“Hope, at its very core, can be the worst of all evils because it prolongs the torment of man,” That one. That was the ‘Hook, Line and Sinker’ moment where Logan knew you had him wrapped around your finger like some perverted puppy. “You aren’t just any man, Logan,” He could vividly picture you sitting on his lap while his back pressed heavily into your headboard. “You’re Wade’s boyfriend.” 
“Oh aren’t you just hilarious,” Logan could remember replying to you as you leaned in to place a gentle kiss against his lips. He loved those moments. The quiet ones. Where nothing else in the world mattered except for the time he got to spend in your undivided attention. “Keep that attitude up, I dare you.” 
“You don’t have to threaten me with a good time.” It was the dynamic the two of you had. The banter-filled friendship that crossed the line into friends with immaculate benefits. And under the glow of your bedside lamps, the ones that sent an orange hume across the floor-length curtains and cottage cream walls, Logan knew that the small amount of time you had been in his life…had been the time most lived. 
“You surround yourself day in and day out with a degenerate crew of antagonists, Logan, of fucking course you’re gonna pick up a few traits after a while!” It wasn’t uncommon to see Logan perched up at the bar while you made coffees for the steady trickle of customers who stopped by for their caffeine fix. After all, it was your cafe. “It doesn’t sound like my issue that you called Althea, Blind Al.” 
“It’s not her fucking name, is it?” Logan’s heated. He kinda hates himself a little for it. Mainly because he recognised straight away who he sounded like. Wade fucking Wilson. Secondly, he had enough respect for the old, aging and decaying to know nicknames like that could put senior citizens into early graves. Well, earlier. “You know what, that’s it, I’m not fucking hanging around that guy anymore.” 
Deep down, Logan knew he didn’t mean it. Wade was a genuinely good person. He saw a lot of parallels of himself in the guy. And if it weren’t for Wade… Logan wouldn’t be sitting here right now. Bickering back and forth with the love of his overextended life. You just made him feel like a guy. Just some dumb guy. Simple. Whenever Logan was with you, he wasn’t The Wolverine. He was just James Howlett. 
“Okay one,” You stopped steaming the milk you had in just been working with so you could reply. You turned with a shit-talking snarl ready to go. “You sound like someone who’s beefing with their childhood bestie,” The frown on Logan’s face warned you not to continue, but you weren’t in the mood to pity someone over four times your age. “Two, you fucking live with the guy man?” You pointed out the incredibly obvious logistics of Logan’s dilemma. “What? you gonna sleep on the street?” It was a genuine question you had. “Please, you’re made of metal dumbass, you’ll catch some sort of genetically fucked mutation of pneumonia and die at the young age of two hundred and twenty-something.” 
“You know exactly who you sound like right now?” Logan countered as he sipped his coffee. The same coffee order you made him every damn day. Black, no cream, sugar or milk. No flavoured syrup or sweeteners in sight. Just black. 
“If you point out the fact I sound like my longest-standing friend, I’ll take great pleasure in knowing you can’t die alone, because you can’t seem to die at all!!” 
“Go fuck yourself!” Logan needed this. He needed you to match his energy. You saw him coming from a mile away when he’d come barrelling into the cafe with a glare of despair and in need of some reprieve. 
“Fuck me yourself, asshole.” It wasn’t exactly what Logan had been expecting you to say, but he did take you up on that offer…The second he knew you were off work and at home later that same evening. 
“Logan–” Your needy little whines were a symphony of desire and love. “Logan–yes, baby you feel so good.” The way Logan made you feel, the way he touched you in all the right ways, made you feel drunk on his ecstasy. 
“Ohhhh just like that huh?” Logan wouldn’t dare change a single thing about what he was doing right now. He had you right where he wanted you. He loved you in his position. The one where he had your arms pinned behind your beck. The one where your chest presses right against his. The one where all he has to do is buck his hips up into yours while his heels dig into your mattress. It’s the one where he can whisper the most degrading things into your ear and knows you’re drooling for it. He knows that much because he can feel it dripping down his other shoulder while you mumble incoherent love songs. 
“I could smell you, you know,” Logan growls particularly low as he keeps his pace going. “When you were giving me that fucking attitude in the cafe today,” You know he’s talking, but the way his perfectly enhanced cock is kissing the tip of your cervix with every thrust it keeping your mind from focusing on anything else but chasing that all important high of yours. “Got nothing to say now, have you?” 
“I–” You tried to tell Logan what you want, you know he already knows when the words won’t come out and you can’t keep your eyes from rolling. “Wanna–” 
“Oh please,” Logan nearly begs while he keeps thrusting up into you. He can feel the mixture of his previous load and your arousal mixing at the base of his shaft. “Give me something pretty to look at gorgeous.” 
Logan thought you were the most gorgeous woman to ever grace his life. Inside and out you were truly one of the most kind-hearted, lovely, compassionate people he’d ever known. But right now, in this very moment, all Logan wanted to do was see your gorgeous face when you came around his slicked-up shaft. All he wanted to feel was you clenched him like a vice grip made just for him. 
“Fuckk–Logan!” At your cries, Logan was quick to grab your face with one of his hands. He wanted to look you in the eyes. Wanted to feel every part of your soul connect with his when you came for him. 
“I’m right here,” He cooed, still bucking into you with force and pace. “I’ve got you, come on me, baby.” 
“Ohhhhh–” The way you dragged your nails down his sides made Logan hiss with pure sexual gratification. Your velvet walls paused around his shaft as he kept up the pace, fucking deeper into you. As deep as he could get just to feel you. “Yessss–” 
“I’m the luckiest guy alive,” Logan rolled his eyes with pure unadulterated lust as you came down from your high. He lets go of your face only to crash his lips against yours in a feverish kiss. “Fucking perfect for me.” He gives you a minute to recover. Logan slowly rocks his hips so that he’s never completely still, always admiring your beauty while yours naked on top of him the way you are. 
“Okay big guy,” You sigh, sitting up to straddle Logan. “Your turn.” 
“Gready thing, one not enough for you?” Logan could still feel how full you were from his last load. He couldn’t contain himself, you just had that effect on him. 
“Well, since you’re either sleeping here or on the street tonight, I figured you didn’t have any plans,” You teased as you rocked your hips the way you knew drove Logan wild. His fingers dug into your hips and for a second he released some pressure. Worried that he might leave a few bruises. Or worse…But when you placed your hands on top of his? Logan knew you were alright. “Gonna finish what you started? Or do you need a second to catch your breath?” 
“Oh I’m gonna ruin you–” Logan smiled as he jumped into action. Capturing your lips with his as he flipped the two of you around. Suddenly you found yourself on your back, pressed into the mattress. “You know how I feel about you, right?” It was a gentle moment laced between the lust and the desire. But when Logan caught your eye, so beautiful and kind, he wanted to make sure that you knew this wasn’t just sex to him. 
This was…You were… Everything he ever wanted. 
“I know,” You nodded, making sure to pull him closer. As close as you could get in missionary. “I’ve got you,” Was all you said back before your lips were taken hostage yet again. “I–” You were about to say it but stopped yourself. The L would be just something that wasn’t said that much. 
You knew it was because Logan was afraid to. He was scared if he said he loved you then he’d wake up from this dream. Back in the pub, he wasn’t welcome in. Back in his reality, where the version of you didn’t know him as the best worst version of himself. 
“You mean everything to me.” You settled with as Logan buried himself inside you. Not knowing that in nine months from now, your greatest love of all would carry your love for Logan in her name: 
Ilya: I.Love. You. Always
Ilya
163 notes · View notes
hencheri · 1 day
Text
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18+. mdni.
pairing: mean toxic bf!haechan x fem!reader
warnings: noncon, toxic relationship, gaslighting.
wc: 1.2k
.
you're watching a movie in the living room, but you're distracted, focused on your thoughts instead of the flashing screen in front of you. it's 3 a.m. and you can hear haechan playing video games in your bedroom.
he hasn't talked to you for hours, hasn't said a word or even looked in your way. it's bothering you a lot. you have a constant knot in your stomach and your heart accelerates at the mere thought of haechan ignoring you.
you hate when he does this, it makes you feel bad. so fucking bad.
you get up from the couch, going to your bedroom. you push the door open, hesitantly walking in. you need to talk to him.
"hyuck?"
he stares at his computer's screen, pressing down on the keys of his keyboard, concentrated on his game. his has his headset on, maybe he hasn't heard you.
"johnny!" haechan calls into his microphone, "quick, come save me."
"hyuckie..." you stand beside him and you know he can see you from the corner of his eye. you bite down on your bottom lip, waiting for an answer that doesn't come.
he continues to play like you're not there. it upsets you so much, could he not be petty for once?
"we need to talk, please," you demand, still trying to get his attention. you know he hears you now since he's quiet.
a few seconds pass before he replies back, "we have nothing to say."
you sigh, exasperated. there are plenty of things you need to discuss about actually, and not just what happened a couple of hours ago. it makes you cringe thinking about the previous events, but you can't just brush it off, especially when haechan's still sour about it.
you were both in bed about to go sleep soon. he made a move, touching your hips up and down, pressing his crotch against your butt. you weren't in the mood, so you told him to stop. he didn't at first and you pushed him away, which really offended him.
he then turned on his pc before you could say anything and you went to the living to watch a movie, a poor attempt to forget about this ridiculous fight.
"but-" you begin, a little annoyed, "we do."
your voice is covered by johnny yelling something to haechan, once again ignored by your boyfriend. "here, here, here! i need to heal you," he yells back, fingers hurriedly pressing down on the keys, "shit, these guys are rough."
"hyuck-" you try, placing your hand on his arm, but he grabs your wrist before you can and shoves your hand away.
you frown, hurt by his action.
"what? we won!?" haechan exclaims, brows shooting up in surprise. you hear johnny talking back without deciphering his words. "ah, they missed the base," he laughs, "yeah, it was close."
he removes his headset and puts it on his desk. but he still decides to not acknowledge you, even when his game is done.
"please," you beg a bit desperately.
"what's the matter?" he sighs loudly, throwing his head back against the headrest of his chair.
"haechan! you've just ignored me the whole night! you can't always do that," you explain to him even though he'll probably only understand what he wants as usual.
he rolls his eyes, "yeah and it's always my fault, right?" he says.
"what- no, that's not-"
"it is," he affirms. he turns his head to you, "every time we so 'need to talk' it's about how i'm wrong, how i shouldn't do this or that, how i should just agree to everything you say and shut my mouth."
you're agape. is this really what he thinks you do? that you only want to complain about him?
"that's not true," you deny, "hyuck, i just want us to communicate, it's important."
he scoffs, "no, you're always the one talking. you don't actually want to hear what i have to say." he looks at you like he's hurt and you start wondering if he might be right. are you really that self-centred? "that's not really what i call communication, you know."
"do you ever ask yourself how i'm feeling? how constantly being rejected makes me feel?" he questions, his gaze not leaving you.
"i don't constantly reject you," you rectify. "sometimes i'm simply not in the mood to sleep with you..."
haechan winces upon hearing your words. "because you are for others?"
your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. that's not how you should have said it. "no, that's not what i meant-" but your boyfriend cuts you off, rising up from his gaming chair.
"yeah, no," he shakes his head, "you know what? i've had this feeling that you don't love me like you say you do." he goes around you and you follow him, wanting to reason with him, but he isn't done talking yet.
"we haven't fucked in days and the only thing you let me do is jerk off with your hand. how- how should i interpret that, huh?" haechan sounds genuinely hurt and upset, but that was never your intention to make him feel this way. how could he even doubt your love for him?
"hyuck, please, sit down," you ask, wrapping your hand around his arm to pull him back against you, but he slips away from you.
he turns around and faces you. "are you seeing someone else? is that why?" he suddenly bursts out and you're totally shocked.
"what? no way, how can you think that!?"
he approaches you and this time, you're the one stepping back until the back of your thighs hit the edge of the bed. you look up at haechan, heart beating faster and faster.
"you're not denying it," he points out, now only a few inches separating you from him. "you're cheating on me... how can you be so fucking heartless?"
you shake your head from side to side, gulping down. this isn't true. you've always stayed faithful to your boyfriend, but the knot in your throat prevents you from speaking up, eyes swelling up in tears.
he clasps his hand around your bicep, digging his fingers into your flesh, pulling you flushed to his chest.
"i can't believe it," he breathes out, "my girlfriend is a fucking whore."
you're still in shock when he crashes his mouth on you, smacking his lips to yours and pushing his tongue inside. your whines are muffled, weak hands pushing on his chest to get him off of you, but to no avail.
you fall on the bed and haechan crushes you with his weight, trapping you under him. you squirm around, not liking the way he doesn't listen to your protests and how he forces himself on you.
his lips descend to your neck, planting quick kisses as if he's in a hurry, going down to the valley of your breasts.
"hyuck, please, stop," you cry, but he doesn't listen.
his fingers hook into your shorts, pulling them down with your underwear, too. your breath is caught in your throat, only exhaling when you feel the familiar push of his cock inside of your unprepared pussy.
"you're mine," he moans, the squeeze of your cunt around him making him frown, "when will you finally understand it..."
155 notes · View notes
kumkaniudaku · 3 days
Text
Stay A While (2)
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Summary: Terry and Treece are feeling the sparks again.
Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC
Word Count: 3,659
Part: 2 of ??
Warnings: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.
Previous
Grocery shopping was Patrice's private pastime. She was the queen of her universe when she walked through aisles every Saturday morning. Every flash bargain and value-sized item bent to her will for a chance at making it to her humble abode and fulfilling its one purpose in life. Employees greeted her like royalty. Customers started conversations like old friends, always giving her the scoop on any sale they'd overheard in their neighborhood Facebook groups. She was happy. She was zen. She was in her element.
"Do you need this?" 
She was a woman dragging around a large man intent on breaking any modicum of concentration she had left.
Patrice stopped and looked over her shoulder at Terry, who held a bag of cotton candy grapes up in the air for her inspection. "No, TJ. Put it down." 
"Why? You like grapes." 
"Because we're getting grapes from the farmer's market. Now, put it back."
Her rebuke was sweet but stern. Having him as a way too familiar roommate was becoming easier as the days passed. But she'd be lying if she said she didn't miss the freedom to go for a walk, watch a movie on the couch, or even enjoy an intimate moment alone in her own house without a man looming somewhere in the very near background. 
He didn't allow her to travel alone, and she never had the energy to protest. 
"You don't have to talk to me like I'm a kid," he grumbled as he put the grapes back in their place.
"Then stop acting like one. I have a list. I know what I need." 
"I know what I need." He exaggerated his mimicry for maximum effect. 
"You see how that was childish?" 
"Whatever." 
Patrice ignored him in favor of browsing packages of beef for the best deal. If she didn't respond, maybe he would get the hint. And, for a few moments, he did. Terry took a break in conversation to scan the immediate area quietly. He noted each patron and their most important details before checking the exit and entry points at the front of the store. They weren't secure enough, but he could manage if the situation required evacuation.
A lack of action soon turned his attention back to Patrice, who still hadn't decided. He gave her a slow once over and smiled at how much focus she put into such a simple choice. Her brow remained furrowed in intense thought, transforming her into the ninth-grade Patrice he met during a chance encounter in the library. Truthfully, he didn't have much of an opinion either way. He just wanted to talk to her every second of the day, even if it meant being annoying. 
"Get that one." 
His sudden interruption startled Patrice out of her zone, adding a final straw to an already exhausted camel's back. Terry grinned in triumph as she closed her eyes for a calming breath. 
"Terry," she spoke, slow and measured to keep the peace. "Take the other half of this list and get out of my face. Don't come back until you find everything. I'll meet you at the register." 
She didn't give him much time to protest before she shoved a carefully torn half of paper into his chest and sent him on his way. He gave her a sarcastic salute, which she waved off without a second look. She needed a moment alone and didn't care if he came back with Fruity O's instead of Fruit Loops if that meant he would be out of her hair for more than 10 minutes. 
Terry found himself slowly meandering around the grocery store with a tiny basket in tow, exhausted by all the options on each aisle. If Patrice hadn't been so meticulous with her lists, he would've given up on the mission and gone back to home base with his tail tucked between his legs. 
After sourcing the perfect pint of Oreo ice cream as an apology for his behavior, Terry found himself drawn to the sound of laughter on the next aisle. Sure enough, Patrice was parked by the frozen vegetables and engaged with a man dressed in the store's colors with his eyes directed far too low to be looking at Patrice's face. 
Terry quickly reached her location, stopping behind Patrice to show her guest the full extent of his scowl. 
Patrice noticed how his once loose body language had gone stiff and sighed. She didn't need to investigate the problem. Only her human pitbull could make a man cower in fear like that. 
"Derrick, this is Terry. Terry, this is Derrick. He usually helps me get stuff to my car." 
"Ah, man. It's a good thing I'm here, right? We don't need you taking too many breaks from stocking. Mornin' rush can get crazy." 
"Terry," Patrice admonished with a harsh whisper and an elbow to his stomach. 
Terry remained steadfast, keeping his eyes on Derrick while taking one step closer. A taunting smile tugged on the right side of his mouth. He waited on any sign of fight from his unspoken adversary. 
Derrick stood in palpable discomfort, sizing up the outcomes if he decided to test his luck. Each mental scenario led him back to some instance of physical harm on his last shift of the week. He had plans for the weekend, none involving a trip to the emergency room.
Patrice stood between a rock and a hardheaded man, praying that the Lord would end her suffering.
"That's what I was about to say," Derrick answered before shifting his attention back to Patrice. "I think I oughta get going. See you around, Ms. Ellis?" 
"Same time next week." 
He nodded in half-hearted agreement and hurried out of dodge, with Terry keeping a watchful eye until he was safely around the corner. 
Patrice groaned with one hand, rubbing tight circles at her temple. "What in the hell was that about?" 
"He wouldn't even look you in the eye. If he can't look you in the eye when he's speaking, he can't protect you, and he doesn't respect you." 
"I'm not looking for his protection. I need this water loaded into my trunk every week when you aren't here!" 
"I'll never not be here. Problem solved."
His declaration was so sure, so matter of fact, that it left Patrice no room for retort. So she resorted to schoolyard antics. 
It was her turn to mock him with an exaggerated, deep voice. "Problem solved. Push the damn cart since you got so much energy." 
He obliged without protest and a proud, self-satisfied grin that Patrice couldn't see while she led the way to the register. An unexpected system error had halted all transactions, leaving them log jammed in a long line of restless customers. 
Together, they stood sharing light banter and running through weekend tasks, resembling any other couple making a store run to strangers observing them from the outside looking in. Former acquaintances, however, had no problem drawing attention to the pair from three spots back in line. 
"I know that ain't who I think it is." Both Patrice's and Terry's eyes darted up to find the source of the loud outburst, only to whisper 'fuck’ in tandem when they spotted Katrina Spivey waving her arms to grab their attention. "Hey, Terry Richmond!" 
Terry pretended to ignore being singled out by turning his back, earning a stifled laugh from Patrice. Katrina, not one to be deterred, used the moment to push past patrons in line until she reached her destination with a host of angry faces in her wake. 
"Well, if it ain't Mr. and Miss Homecoming in the flesh. You two finally stopped kidding around and got married?" 
"No," Terry answered without much explanation, his back still turned. Patrice reluctantly made up his slack. 
"What Terry meant to say was that we're not married. We're not together at all, actually. But he's here to visit me for a while." 
"What a blessing it is to have friends you can lean on when you need a helping hand."
"Amen."
An awkward tension settled into the conversation's lull, compounded by Terry's outright refusal to engage. Patrice was in deep water without a paddle and a co-captain who had already jumped ship.
Katrina wouldn't let the conversation end and take her newfound place in line. She continued to pry.
"Both of y'all look good! How long has it been since we last saw each other, huh? Gotta be since Terry's graduation send-off." 
Patrice feigned interest with a hollow smile. "Yeah, I think that was it. A looong time ago. All grown up now."
"And thank God for it! I remember how sad you looked all night because ol' Terry was moving away. Like a little crying puppy!" 
Katrina's laughter didn't quite reach Terry or Patrice, who bristled at mentioning one of the more contentious nights in their friendship. 
"Everybody's been a little young and dumb, right? Like when you and BJ got caught underneath the bleachers during state championships." 
Checkmate. A little reminder of her indiscretions had turned Katrina's condescending smile into a mean mug that could burn through anyone not equally as stubborn. 
Terry showed his approval with a light nudge against Patrice's arm. That was his girl. Sweet as pie but a tongue coated in venom when backed against the wall. He'd been on the receiving end on one too many occasions. It felt good to be on the winning side this time. 
Three seconds of a Western standoff had culminated in a gift sent via store intercom. 
"Apologies for the stoppage, folks. Our registers are back up and running. Thanks for your patience." 
Terry moved the cart to place items on the conveyor belt while Patrice waited for the conversation to resume.
Recovering from the sharp end of a verbal lashing, Katrina cleared her throat and grabbed hold of her cart in preparation to skip lines. 
"Well, I don't wanna hold y'all too much longer. If y'all don't think you're too good to mingle with us Francis High Hornets anymore, Corey's throwing a little Juneteenth gathering at his daddy's pool hall. This is my personal invite for the both of you."
"We were already invited. Maybe we'll make an appearance." 
"That'd be grand." 
"I bet it would."
Nice nasty smiles passed between the two foes until Katrina was off to harass some other unsuspecting patron. 
Patrice tried to let go of her frustration with an angry huff before turning to catch up with Terry, who was casually moving groceries from the bagging station to the shopping basket. He waited a moment before acknowledging the obvious. 
"You over it now, or do I need to iron a shirt for tonight?" 
"I'm over it," Patrice answered plainly. She calmly handed over payment for the day's groceries and smiled ever so sweetly to bid the cashier farewell. To an outsider, she'd returned to her zen state without much effort. Terry was no outsider and kept a cautious eye on her as they loaded bags into the trunk and got settled in the front seat of her SUV. 
"You sure you're good," he asked as he backed out of their parking space. 
"I'm sure, TJ," she answered with almost too much enthusiasm. Terry started a mental countdown for the other shoe to drop. "I'll iron the shirt. You need to shave." 
--------
The final verdict? A plain white T-shirt. 
An hour of searching, choosing, rejecting, and choosing again led them to a plain, crisp white tee. Patrice said it went better with her yellow wrap dress, which she chose because her girlfriends were all in dresses, and she wanted to match the occasion. It all sounded like made-up bullshit to Terry. Still, he accepted being treated like a Ken Doll because it meant that his Barbie would agree to a two-hour hard stop at the festivities. 
He'd already started his stopwatch when they pulled up on a busy street in front of an even busier hole in the wall.
The smell of fresh grease greeted them upon crossing the threshold from outside into Mister C's Bar and Lounge. Fried fish, French fries, and wings in any flavor you could ask for sat in the service window, waiting for their delivery to any one of the patrons packed from wall to cinderblock wall. Terry inhaled deeply and let his scowl drop for one second to fantasize about a bite of Corey Sr.'s signature catfish and fries basket. 
Next came the familiar mix of sweat and weed near the dancefloor as bodies intertwined to some GloRilla song neither of them recognized. Thick traffic in the center of the room paused Patrice on her path to the pool tables, locking her between Terry and a crowd that wouldn't budge. 
"Excuse me!" she shouted over a swell of crowd reaction to a new song. "I need to get by!" 
No response. Not even a look back as she used a hand to create space between her and a group of men debating nonsense. Before she could try again, Terry used one hand to push her forward and his voice to clear the way. 
"Yo, step out of the way. We need to get through." Direct and to the point. He left no room for misinterpretation, and his baritone's boom left no confusion about who was calling the shots. Patrice watched with her lips slightly parted in awe. 
The first reaction to his demand was the embers of confrontation. Each member of the group sized Terry up, noticing his heavy scowl and size in comparison to their own. Then, they realized that this wasn't a winning game. 
The flashiest of the group nodded, though disdain at the mere suggestion that he was in the way kept his mouth in a tight frown. "Yeah, you good, OG. My fault." 
Another light push propelled Patrice forward as Terry maintained with each man until they had passed. 
Once they were out of the mix and nearing their destination, he advised, "Stay close." Patrice nodded her compliance, shocking Terry into a slight smile in appreciation for her obedience. 
Sparks of electricity shot between them but had no time to turn into a total current before Corey called out to them. 
"Treece! Terry! We over here!" 
Surrounded by familiar faces from Francis Edward's Class of 2010, Corey welcomed them with open arms and his ever-present 100-watt smile. At a slight 5'6", 150 on his best day, he'd always been larger than his frame would suggest. Loud and flamboyant had always been the name of his game, earning him anything he set his sights on.
It didn't take long for the trio and Corey's wife, June, to fall into familiar habits and friendly jabs at one another as they took their seats in a makeshift VIP section by the pool tables. The Three-Headed Monster was their moniker in high school, and they moved like a military force. Terry was the enforcer, while Corey and Patrice served as judge and prosecutor. If you had an issue with one, you had an issue with all three. 
"Your security is lax. Who trained them?" Terry pointed out during a dead spot in conversation. 
Corey followed his eyeline to the two young men standing at the door and back. "My boy at the sheriff's office. What you see?" 
"They look soft. It wouldn't take much to overpower them and get in for some drama. You only have one exit. Somebody breeches this place, and you're on the hook for a tragedy. Plus, the one on the left is scared. He'll be the first to leave if things get hot. Watch him."
"Impressive," June remarked, smiling at Patrice, who subtly playfully waved her off.
"Hm." Corey took a long pull from his cigar, taking in the information before responding." You here for a minute, T? I got some connections over at Liberty if you looking to get back in the swing of things." 
"Contract?" 
"Whatever you need, man. You know I'm good for it."
Terry looked over at Patrice for some indication that she believed in Corey, and she returned with a subtle nod and encouraging smile. June looked between them and then at her husband before clearing her throat. 
"It looks like Kel and his boy are back on the pool table. You know he still owes you a game from when he cheated last week." 
"Hell yeah," Corey agreed as he turned in his seat to get a look at his enemy. "Aye, T, you trynna make $100 real quick?" 
"It's either that or you gotta come dance with me," Patrice challenged. "This rum and pineapple got me feeling a little loose." 
She wasn't lying. A taste of alcohol in her system was starting to make her want to explore parts of the Patrice she thought she left at North Carolina A&T. Every heart-rattling thump of Megan Thee Stallion's latest and greatest had her thinking about reminding everyone in the room that she could move with the best of them. 
Her little grind in her seat made Terry show teeth in a small grin before he stood to his full height and looked down at her. His eyes were hooded and dreamy from some combination of exhaustion and a contact high, reintroducing that spark from before.
"Don't go too far. I'll be back with your money in a little bit." 
Patrice's tongue felt too heavy to respond coherently past a punch-drunk nod. June watched her watch him make his way down the platform and into the crowd until both men were out of earshot. 
She whistled and shook her head. "That's a good-looking man, ain't he?" 
"Who? Corey? He alright. He's like a slightly more attractive Taye Diggs." 
"First off, ouch," June laughed. "Second, I was talking about Terry. He was cute in high school, but I'll be damned if that second puberty didn't take him to a whole 'nother level." 
"Don't tell him that. His head is big enough."
"You know you wrong for that." If the music weren't so loud, everyone in the building would've heard the pair guffawing over Patrice's petty insult. 
Once they contained themselves, June took a sip from her margarita and shifted in her seat to get closer to Patrice.
"He likes you still." Five plain words shook Patrice internally as she struggled to maintain a poker face. June continued. "I see the way he looks for your approval and damn near trips on himself to fulfill your every whim. You're all he talks about when he and Corey get on the phone." 
"They talk?" 
"From time to time. I think he needs a man's opinion sometimes, you know?" 
Patrice wrestled with the influx of information as June continued. 
"That man is mean as a snake. Always has been and always will be. But, you bring something out of him. Even if you can't always see it." 
"If that were the case, things would've been different for us back then." 
June shrugged. "Maybe. Or maybe you're right where you're supposed to be. I know I can't make you do what you don't wanna do, but if what I say means anything, focus on today. Thirty-two-year-old Terry is so much more prepared to love you than eighteen-year-old Terry was." 
Punctuating her advice, June tapped Patrice's leg twice before taking a step away to refill their tray of food. 
Focus on today.
The words replayed in her mind repeatedly; even after their two hours were up, Terry had returned $100 richer, and they were back on the road to their quiet slice of the world. 
They rode together in content quiet, letting the Quiet Storm host talk while Terry tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music. 
Randomly, he would glance in her direction, assuming she had lost the sleep battle to her old friend Bacardi. When he reached over to adjust the air vent on her side of the car, he was surprised when she mumbled a low "thank you." 
"My bad. I thought you were sleeping." 
"No. My head is swimming, though. Don't let me drink that much anymore." she laughed. 
He chuckled along with her but didn't agree to keep her from letting her hair down occasionally. In his eyes, seeing her relaxed and carefree was a gift to the world. 
The opening notes of Tevin Campbell's "I'm Ready" swirled around them, sounding like a secret message to Patrice as she focused on streetlights to keep the contents of her dinner inside her stomach. 
"Hey," she whispered before she could catch herself. Terry acknowledged her with a glance. "Do you think you're still scared?" 
"Of what?" 
"Of whatever kept you away for so long?"
He thought for a moment, wanting to make sure he was clear with his word. "No. I was never afraid of you. I was afraid of bringing you along for a ride I might not survive. That's not a threat anymore. So, no, I'm not scared anymore."
You know I'm ready
To love you
Forever 
Patrice reached across the center console until she reached Terry's hand to interlock her fingers with his. He gave her an appreciative squeeze without taking his eyes off the road. 
"I-I don't think I'm scared anymore either."
Her heart raced wildly behind her ribs, and Patrice was that if Terry pressed his wrist close enough to hers, he could feel her pulse accelerate. He didn't mind either way. Sweaty palms and trembling fingers would never be enough for him to let her go. Not again. 
As if she'd break if he moved too fast, Terry brought her hand to his lips slowly. One kiss. Another. Two more. And a final one for good measure. 
When he'd had his fill of her skin, he pressed the spot up against his cheek. He needed to feel and absorb her until they were one body. 
But, for tonight at least, this was enough.
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