#i kept going back and forth on it but it does work well for him

[cecilysass]

One Hand Tied (5/13)

Read on AO3 | Tagging @today-in-fic

Tuesday evening

By dinnertime, Scully has an impulsive and poorly-considered plan. It’s kind of like something Mulder would improvise midway through climbing the fence of a military base.

Pacing back and forth in her living room, she tries to reassure herself about trusting her instincts. You were right about what happened with Mulder and Diana, weren’t you? That doesn’t exactly work to calm her down.

She’s handcuffed Sergey to a chair, and now, wringing her hands, she sails back and forth past him, ignoring his occasional comments.

“Sit down, girl,” Sergey complains. “You’re making me feel dizzy watching you.”

The truth is, she feels overwhelmed by pent-up energy, by some need to do something, to take action. Taking action has to be better than whatever it is she’s been doing the last few days.

And maybe it’s pathetic, maybe it’s weak of her, but picturing Mulder—where he is now, what he must be thinking and feeling, how alone he is—makes her more frantic.

The image of him in some dark cell upsets her in ways it should not. No, it should not. If he’s suffering now, it’s the consequence of his heedlessness. But realistically, she cares—of course she does. It’s Mulder, and she doesn’t want to think of him defeated and crushed, knowing he’s been betrayed by yet another person he cares about. He’s been able to depend on so few people in his life. If he loves Diana? It’s a brutal blow, enough to make him give up entirely.

No, no, no. Stupid. It doesn’t matter. Smoothing her hair behind her ears, Scully forces these thoughts out of her mind. None of this is relevant to what she has to do now. It’s just distraction, emotional noise. She is his partner. This is about protecting him as his partner. This is still about the work.

The kid, Sergey—and he is more or less a kid, she guesses, definitely no older than mid twenties—has proved to be quite a talker. She knows he’s in danger, whether she brings him in for charges or not, and he doesn’t seem to be involved in anything beyond a low level job with the Syndicate. Which he appears to know very little about, despite his grandstanding.

She gives him a fierce warning, and then retreats to her bedroom to change clothes, pulling on a black tee, coat, jeans, boots. Her best espionage chic. A look she didn’t have in her wardrobe until she met Mulder.

Sergey whistles when she reemerges, transparently checking out her rear end in the jeans. “Damn,” he says. “You’re looking good. You want to use these handcuffs the fun way, baby?”

Scully closes her eyes, gathering all remaining patience. “Get up. We’re going to my car.”

“Your car?” he says. “Where are we going?”

“You’re going to do something for me if you want to stay alive,” she says, as she nudges him up. “You’re going to get me into your workplace. Where Fox Mulder is being kept.”

“My workplace?” His voice morphs into a thin whine. “Right now? Tonight? It’s like two hours away, in Delaware.”

“Right now,” she affirms. “And if you do that, afterwards I’ll try to get you safely out of town before your boss finds out.”

Sergey thrusts his chest out. “You don’t need to worry about me. I can handle myself. Like I handled Alex Krycek.”

That gives Scully pause. She takes in his relatively small physique. “You really beat up Krycek?”

“Yeah,” Sergey says, shrugging nonchalantly. “Pretty bad, too.”

“He was restrained, I assume?” She considers him critically.

“Well yeah. He’s a prisoner.”

Scully smiles a little. “That sounds satisfying,” she says. Her voice becomes stern again. “But if you know your boss well, you know he won’t hesitate to have you killed if he thinks you’ve betrayed him, Sergey. And you’ve already gone to see an F.B.I. agent.”

Sergey’s eyes go wide again. “Yeah,” he says.

“So you’re going to listen to me every step of the way,” she says. “Now move.”

Sergey groans, starting to walk towards the door, the SIG aimed at his back. “Can’t we at least stop and get some Arby’s or something? I’m hungry.”

“Walk,” Scully barks.

“I’ll buy you a roast beef sandwich, beautiful,” Sergey says.

“I’ll fire with no hesitation.”

“Fuck, okay, I’m going,” he says, lifting his hands.

***

The evening drive across the Chesapeake Bay and into Delaware is long and tedious. Scully drives, keeping her eyes on the road, while Sergey engages in a nonstop, chatty monologue. Like they’re college acquaintances splitting gas on a road trip.

He tells her the plot of every movie he saw this year (his favorite: The Waterboy), the names and physical descriptions of the last three girls he slept with (his favorite: Faye with the pointy tits), why he doesn’t like soft shell tacos (no fucking crunch), his plan for a new tattoo (clenched fist with blood dripping down).

Scully selectively listens as they drive over the long bridge, the dim waters of the Chesapeake moving somewhere beneath them. Her mind wanders, combining Sergey’s prattle with speculation about why Mulder might be imprisoned, what Diana’s exact play might be.

She’s most interested when Sergey talks about their destination, a house with the unlikely, somewhat gothic name of Breakwater Edge Castle.

“It used to be some dead rich guy’s house, and now it belongs to the company. But if you ask me, the place sucks,” Sergey says. “It’s dark inside and the bathrooms smell like booty.”

“That’s where the prisoners are being kept?”

“Yeah, in the dungeon,” Sergey says off-handedly.

“The dungeon?”

“You know, in the basement. It’s a castle.”

“A … castle?” Scully doesn’t follow.

“Yeah, the whole place is a castle. Towers and shit.”

She doesn’t quite understand how there could be a castle in Delaware, but she decides to let it pass. They’ll be there soon enough. “Is Mulder being treated well? Fed? Given water?”

“Well, we’re not pulling out their fingernails, if that’s what you mean,” Sergey says. He shifts his eyes at her. “Hey, is this Fox guy your boyfriend?”

Scully will not be deterred. “How do you recommend we get inside?”

“There’s a fuck ton of security around the building,” he sighs. “So it’d be better to go in the main door if we could.”

Scully glances at him in the passenger seat. He’s been handcuffed to his seat on the right side, and he looks vaguely uncomfortable. “Elaborate,” she says.

“There should be a party tonight,” Sergey says. “This guy Devon works back garden security. Devon’s a real dick, owes me $75, claims he doesn’t remember—even though everyone was there for that poker game, but anyway. It’s Devon’s birthday, so some guys’ll stay and have beer and pizza after the evening shift.”

Scully nods. “So we say we’re coming for the party.”

“They’ll know me,” Sergey agrees. He aims a wolfish grin at her. “And I can say you’re my date.”

Scully rolls her eyes. “I’m at least ten, possibly fifteen years older than you.”

“Age is only a number, baby.”

Scully’s mouth twists. That sentence reminds her unpleasantly of Daniel. He was fond of repeating some version of “age is only a number,” too, although he left off “baby” and he phrased it so it sounded irresistibly reasonable and romantic. Looking back, she sees now that his motives probably weren’t that different from Sergey’s.

She has the brief, somewhat illogical thought that maybe she has a very specific kind of sexual draw that only appeals to age inappropriate men. Maybe she only comes across as someone’s daughter, someone’s mother, not someone’s true partner. Or maybe men like Daniel and Sergey just view her as an easy mark.

“We’ll figure something out,” Scully acquiesces with a sigh, her fingers tightening their grip around the steering wheel.

The bridge is flat, the Chesapeake broad and wide underneath, but Scully finds herself imagining the car going down a steep decline, rattling faster and faster, no brakes, no way to stop.

***

It’s dark by the time they reach the Delaware coast. Scully peers out at the starlit beaches that run adjacent to the road, and she can make out a curved rocky point jutting out aggressively into the Atlantic. Breakwater Edge Castle sits perched a staid distance away, its towers barely visible from a distance.

It’s located only a few miles north of Rehoboth Beach, a highly populated beach town, and Scully is amazed at how somehow remote and tucked away the house seems, shielded by not only a stone wall for privacy, but natural boundaries of dunes and rock.

In the dark she can still make out the gloomy outline of a sizable eccentric reproduction Norman castle, complete with towers and a keep. Impressive, she supposes, in some goofy American way. She wonders if tourists stop there thinking it’s some kind of amusement park ride.

Sergey failed to mention there would be a security check-in as they drove through the front gate, and Scully sends him a reproachful glare as they approach it.

“Don’t worry,” he says with a grin. “I got you.”

Pulling her car up to speak to the guard inside the booth, she rolls her window down and squints in the startlingly bright light.

“What’s your business here?” the guard asks her. Then he seems to spot her passenger and leans his head down, his tone changing. “Hey, Sergey.”

“Hey, Duke,” Sergey says back, all casual charm, managing to conceal his cuffed hand. “How you doing?”

“We’re here for the party,” Scully says evenly, trying to sound equally relaxed. “Devon’s birthday.”

She thinks about what Mulder does in these kinds of situations and tilts her head slightly, aiming for what she hopes is a dazzling smile.

“You don’t work here,” the guard says, unmoved, crossing his arms. “And the food and the keg is already here, so you ain’t bringing that.” He leans over to speak to Sergey in the passenger seat. “There aren’t supposed to be guests, Sergey. Boss’s orders. You know that.”

“She’s the stripper,” Sergey calls from the passenger seat conspiratorially. “I got Devon a stripper as a surprise. Everyone’s going to love it. Don’t ruin it, man.”

Scully swiftly swivels back towards him and gives him a withering look. Sergey smiles back at her like the village idiot, still obediently keeping his hand handcuffed to the seat out of sight.

She turns around to face the guard again with another bright smile. If this works, it works, and it’s worth it.

“Uh huh, that’s right,” she says. “We don’t want to be late.”

“A stripper, huh?” the guard says, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smirk. His eyes skirt over the basic black t-shirt she’s wearing. “You don’t look like a stripper.”

“I’m not in costume,” Scully improvises. “I still have to change.”

“Oh yeah? What’s your costume look like?” The guard is openly leering now.

Scully considers how far they’ll have to take this cover story. She thinks quickly to the contents of her go-bag in the trunk (suit, outdoors clothing for hiking, two-piece pajamas) and has a sudden flash of inspiration.

“I’m Lana the Lumberjack,” she says. “Queen of the Hard Wood.”

The guard chortles, and Sergey starts cackling like a 13-year old beside her. “Well, okay then,” the guard says. “Come on in.”

***

The Breakwater Edge Castle has a kind of faded glamor, a once-luxurious house that now seems to be poorly maintained and inhabited by low-level Syndicate employees.

They enter through the front door, walking on a little footbridge over a real moat, and through magnificent double doors meant to look like a drawbridge. But in the formal front entrance hall is Sylvester, the door guard, and he sits smoking in a patched easy chair, watching a TV on top of an upside down plastic crate.

Sylvester accepts Scully’s stripper story apathetically, barely looking up from the TV. So far, so good.

She and Sergey walk over elegant carpets with worn out edges, past sumptuous faux medieval tapestries thick with dust. Everything smells like mildew and cigarette smoke.

All of the rooms are enormous, with tall arched stone ceilings and wide doorways. It’s freezing inside. This kind of building must be impossible to heat, and she doubts anyone is trying very hard.

The windows are all shrouded in heavy velvet curtains, all drawn, and Scully doesn’t have to get very close to know they’re coated with dust, too. They walk past an impressive formal dining room with a beautiful chandelier and a wall of mirrors. It has a long dark wood antique table covered with candelabras, overflowing ashtrays and piles of fast food wrappers.

There are voices coming from some deep heart of the house, so Scully knows she needs to be prepared to encounter others.

Against her instincts, she’d uncuffed Sergey in the car, reminding him fiercely that his safety depended on her, but now, as they reach the end of a hallway, she risks cuffing him again to a candle sconce outside a bathroom.

“You don’t trust me, girl?” he protests, falsely wounded.

Scully has a small tote bag of clothing she has culled from her go bag. “Not particularly, no,” she says. “And it’s just for a moment, while I change.” She enters the bathroom and shuts the door in his face, hoping for the best.

The bathroom has only one small bronze-framed mirror above the sink, so she’ll have to stand on the toilet to see her clothing better.

She starts by changing into a pair of denim shorts that she rolls up so they’re extra short, thinking of the girls on the cover of Mulder’s video. She hikes the waistline down a little so her belly button is visible, then climbs up on the toilet seat to look at it critically in the mirror.

So far, it’s okay, she decides.

Next she changes into her black push up bra. It’s embarrassing that she even keeps a push up bra in her go bag. She won’t give any humiliating thought to why she does, or what she might have been hoping for in recent years, but at least it’s a handy costume piece now. She shapes her breasts strategically into the bra, plumping them up for the most dramatic cleavage possible. She also attaches a clip holster to the side of her bra for her SIG.

When she’s satisfied with the bra’s lift, she puts her plaid hiking shirt on over it, buttoning only the two middle buttons. She tightly ties up the bottom of the shirt to reveal her midriff, and lets the top gape open, her cleavage for the world to see. Her SIG fits at her ribs in her bra holster, concealed by the slight billow of the shirt there.

Now she stops and climbs on the toilet again, staring back at herself in the bronze mirror. The shirt looks okay, she supposes, although she isn’t as voluptuous as the women on the video cover.

She thinks the outfit probably makes her look more bargain basement farm girl—more like a Halloween costume for an off-brand Mary Ann from Gilligan’s Island—than a sexy vamp. But she can’t see the gun at all, which is good.

When she steps off the toilet and has a better view of her face, her eyes look tired and swollen from recent crying jags. Her hair looks flyaway and limp. She feels bedraggled, ridiculous. She can’t help but imagine she would be a disappointing stripper.

Of course if this were a real undercover assignment, she would do something with her hair and make-up. Not to mention some stockings or something. But she supposes she only has to look convincing enough for anyone she happens to run into.

She comes out of the bathroom with a grim expression on her face, clutching the tote bag full of her other clothes.

Sergey, still hanging from the handcuff on the sconce, gives her a once-over and an appreciative wolf whistle. “Have you thought about just forgetting about this prison boyfriend and hooking up with a real man?”

Scully crosses her arms over her chest self-consciously. At least Lana the Lumberjack is getting the reaction she assumes she’s supposed to from Sergey.

“What’s our next move?” she says. “How do we get to the … dungeon?”

“Don’t worry,” Sergey says with a smile. “I know what to do, baby. But you got to set me free.”

He gestures to his hand attached to the sconce, and Scully, heavily sighing again, turns to unlock him. She tries not to notice how he ogles her chest as she does.

***

Tuesday evening

Dinner is late, or at least Mulder thinks it is, not having access to any kind of clock. He’s been watching closely for the food trays mainly because Krycek has been looking pretty pitiful, and he’s wondering if anyone cares. Mulder has serious grudges against the man, but he’s not sure he wants to sit here and watch him die a slow painful death from internal injuries either.

When the tray starts to slide through, Mulder is standing on the other side of the door. “Hey,” he calls loudly. “Just so you know, my roommate here is pretty injured. Probably has some broken ribs. Is it important to your boss whether he stays alive or not?”

There is a pause, and the door opens more fully. A young man in a gray uniform with a pinched face stands with the second food tray in front of him and an uncertain expression on his face. “Manny,” he calls somewhere unseen down the hall. “Manny, can you come here a second?”

The young man turns back to Mulder, a snarl on his face. “Back up,” he orders. “Go sit on your cot.”

Mulder obeys, mostly out of curiosity about what will happen next. The young man is soon joined by a slightly older, stockier man—Manny, Mulder assumes—who stands with him in the door of the cell. The young man sets the second food tray on the ground next to the first.

“What’s wrong?” Manny frowns at the other guard.

“That one’s injured,” the young man says, pointing to Krycek. Krycek is now huddled up facing away from the door, his arm over his side, unmoving. Mulder assumes he’s probably gone to sleep. “Other prisoner said broken ribs maybe.”

“How did he get like that?” Manny barks the question at Mulder. “You hit him?”

“You beat him up,” Mulder chuckles, raising his hands haplessly. “I didn’t see it. One of the guards beat him up.”

“Who did?” Manny demands.

“I don’t know.” Mulder shrugs. “I don’t know anyone’s name.”

“Go look at him, Preston,” Manny orders. “See if he looks okay.”

Preston nods unenthusiastically and takes hesitant steps over to Krycek’s cot. He bends over to look at his face, keeping a respectful distance. “He looks okay to me,” he calls, grimacing. “He’s asleep. But he’s all hunched up like maybe he’s in pain or something”

“Gee,” Mulder says, “you think? You should be a doctor.”

“We’ll report it to the boss,” Manny replies apathetically, standing in the door frame. “Nothing to do about it now.”

“Yeah, good idea, okay,” Preston says, scooting towards the door with an uneasy look at Mulder. “Thanks, Manny.”

The two guards can’t get out of there fast enough, and the door slams loudly behind them. But Mulder can still hear their voices faintly in the hall.

“You always double check the locks before you go,” Manny is saying. “Don’t skip that step.”

He hears metallic clinking right outside the door again. “Are you staying for Devon’s party tonight?” Preston’s voice cuts across the sound. “There’s going to be a stripper.”

“You’re turning the top lock too hard.” Manny’s voice sounds irritated. “Easy does it. And you’re dreaming. The boss wouldn’t let a stripper in here.”

“I saw her,” Preston’s voice protests, as the door clicks one more time. “She’s a redhead.”

“You concentrate on getting your work done,” Manny says, his voice drifting away down the hall.

“But are you staying though? I was thinking…” The voices have apparently crossed around some bend where they are no longer audible.

Mulder sits up on his cot all in one movement, the words still playing through his mind.

He shouldn’t get his hopes up. It’s such a remote possibility. Lots of women with red hair exist in the world.

There’s a strange, choking sound from the other cot, and Mulder realizes that it’s laughter. Krycek must have only been pretending to be asleep.

“You think it’s her, don’t you?” comes Krycek’s scratchy voice. “It’s an exciting fantasy come to life, huh, Fox? Scully coming to save you in a g-string.”

“You sent someone after her,” Mulder says, trying to keep his voice reasonable. “Maybe she somehow found a way to get in the building.”

“And you really think Little Miss Goody Two-Shoes would go undercover as a stripper?”

Mulder says nothing. Truthfully, it doesn’t seem that likely to him, either. It doesn’t have the ring of one of Scully’s typical cover stories, which tend to be safer and closer to her own persona. He’s not sure Scully would be comfortable enough to pull off stripper.

He lies back down on the cot, sighing heavily.

Probably he should get up and eat the dinner tray, to keep his energy and weight up. But he’s not at all hungry; his stomach is in anxious knots. He tosses and turns on the cot, flopping his limbs around noisily.

“Go to sleep, Mulder.” Krycek’s voice cuts across the dim light. “You’re making me nervous.”

Mulder huffs loudly, but turns on his side and crosses his arms, closing his eyes. His mind drifts back to Scully.

He considers their disagreement at the Gunmen’s again. He had been so angry with her that day for reasons even he couldn’t fully understand. He still doesn’t understand it. He wishes he could do it over again.

But… he knows it started earlier in the day.

Yeah. It had something to do with what had happened at Fort Marlene.

He knows it had something to do with seeing her slick, perfect body in the decontamination shower. With feeling the want and pushing it away again. Same as he has been for years, same as he did after the charged moment in his apartment hallway. Redirecting and rechanneling and managing and suppressing, so that they can continue to do their work and be partners.

That day, though, in the shower, she looked back. He saw his own need looking back over at him in a guilty peek, a little flash of desire.

Then it was gone, like it had never been. She was giving him cold angry looks, telling him that he doesn’t understand Diana, mustering the Gunmen against him. She was refusing to listen to him, refusing to tell him he’s right, refusing to tell him he’s worth it. It just made him feel so tense, so frustrated with her.

He tightens his arms around his chest, biting his lip. He knows he sounded like a child. Or more accurately, like a teen boy lacking self-awareness, whose repressed sexual urges make him unfairly angry at the girl he’s attracted to.

Well, he’s paying for it now.

It takes him a long time to settle his mind down, but eventually he does, and he closes his eyes.

He is just drifting off to sleep when he feels something prick him in the arm.

***

[moeblob]

The Loving Wife and Loving Husband try to care for the Traitor who is going through a crisis at being told "you could have said no" because he's the biggest yes-man in existence (to friends).

[gothgoblinbabe]

Love Game

[Logan Howlett x fem!reader]

Warnings: MDNI/18+ use of she/her, female reader, swearing, being referred to as a girl, mention of being a stress eater, mild alcohol consumption and mention of alcoholism kinda, jealous!Logan, mild violence, you’re shorter than Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it up), little bit of spitting, sub!logan x kinda dom!reader, voyeurism? Technically?, use of pet names, I believe that’s it but pls lmk if I missed any! ps. you wear a dress in this but if that don't work for you, imagine its a sick ass tux/ fancy attire you're comfy in

Also non cannon compliant because I know Logan is heavy as shit and his body weight would crush you but just for a minute you’re gonna pretend like it wouldn’t

Summary: essentially [this ask] with plot ! // Scott needs to mind his god damn business, but he might’ve done you a favor by snatching your diary and waving it in Logan's face.

Word Count: 8K

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

“That fucking kid.”

You groaned, lifting your mattress and checking underneath and round your bed. You knew Scott was going to snatch your diary the moment you’d realized he overheard you tell Ororo where you kept it.  He was always busting your balls the same way he did Logans, even insisting it was a ‘two for one’ deal when he got to bother you at the same time. 

Well, he was really gonna regret messing with you this time.

“Summers! I’m going to wring your goddamn neck! Where is it?”

Your voice boomed through the open halls of the mansion as you barreled down the stairs, feet moving faster than your thoughts. Everything echoed in this place; if he was here, you know he heard you.

“Scott!”

You continued to call his name, stomping around until you locked eyes with him as you entered the kitchen. In his hands - to your abject horror - was your diary, spread open while Logan peeked over his shoulder. 

Truthfully, Scott was a little scared shitless of the consequences of what he’d done. He’d dealt with Logan back and forth, sure, but you? Terrifying. You had just about the same strength as Logan and about five times his rage. That’s why his eyes grew wide when he saw you, snapping the little book shut. 

You could feel your face burning. A diary was private within itself, but there were some things you’d written that were never supposed to be read by another soul; Scott and Logan’s included.

“Fucker,” you grumbled, reaching forward to grab the book from Scott’s hands until Logan snatched it, holding it above your head. 

“Ah, not so fast,” he teased.

You’d gotten into plenty of squabbles with Scott, but he was absolutely going to pay for this. He knew the way you felt about Logan and you swore he got some sick satisfaction out of trying to humiliate you. He only found out because he’d overheard you confiding in Jean late one night in the living room with a pint of ice cream in your hands, yapping while you shoveled Ben and Jerrys into your mouth.

Your eyes flickered between his face and Logan’s. If looks could kill, Scott would have dropped dead the second you walked into the kitchen. 

“Now what is this,” Logan asked with a lilt in his voice as his eyes scanned a page, “a whole paragraph for little ol’ me?”

Shit. 

“I’ll give it back, I promise, but I gotta read this.”

If you tried, you could maybe snatch the thing from his grip before he read too much. You considered jumping on him, piggybacking until he dropped it or handed it over. What lengths would you be willing to go through to keep it a secret anyway? Was it really even a big deal?

You had a crush. Everybody does at some point. A stupid, harmless crush and if this was how he was going to find out, so be it. 

You were still absolutely planning on tearing Scott from limb to limb, though.

“Huh,” Logan clicked his tongue, beginning to read from the pages, “No one knows how to piss me off like Logan.”

You sighed, dropping your head into your hands.

“True,” he commented, “and he spends a ridiculous amount of time in the bathroom to do his hair.”

“Also true,” Scott chimed in, becoming the subject of your seething gaze. 

“He’d save so much time if he just let me do it for him - like it would be hard to comb it into two cat ears,” he read, looking up to speak to you, “first of all, I told you they’re not cat ears.”

You simply nodded and rolled your eyes.

“Second of all, you couldn’t master ‘em anyway - I’d have to fix it myself.”

You just scoffed, leaning yourself back against the kitchen counter in an attempt to act nonchalant while you tapped one foot uncontrollably. Everything he’d read so far seemed to be the mundane stuff, nothing incriminating just yet. 

“God, how I wanna…play with his hair,” he read, eyebrow quirked in confusion.

Ah, there it is.

“That’s, uh - it’s really old, I didn’t mean, like - it’s from years ago,” you tried to blabber out an excuse.

“It’s dated - it’s from a couple months ago.”

You pursed your lips, nearly biting through the flesh at the same time from the pressure. You had to get that book out of his hands.

“He’s so stubborn,” Logan continued to read with a smug grin, holding the book high when you jumped to grab it, “I wish someone would just put him in his place.”

“Ooh,” Scott chuckled, looking to you, “are you gonna be the one to do it?”

“Fuck you, Summers - I’m so gonna get you back for this,” you snarled.

“I don’t think it would take too much for him to keep his mouth shut” Logan started to read again.

You instantly recognized the part he was reading and gasped, frantically reaching again for the book. 

“No, no, no, Logan, please - you don’t wanna read th-“

“I’d love to be the one to do it. I wanna take him and -”

He stopped reading and his eyes scanned the rest of the page, his amused smile faltering. You knew exactly what it was he’d read and you wanted to bury yourself alive. You remembered scrawling it down, snickering to yourself as you dragged the gel pen across the paper.

I wanna take him and tie him to my bedpost, probably shove my panties in his mouth and fuck him senseless.That would really shut him up.

Out of all the pages in that goddamn book, that’s the one he had to open up to?

You watched intently as his eyes flashed from yours to the page and then back again.

“What does it say?” Scott questioned, trying to lean over to get a look.

Instead of letting him read it, he snapped it shut and held it out towards you, his face expressionless. Was he mad? Grossed out?

“Don’t worry about it. We shouldn’t be readin’ her private stuff anyway.”

“Uh…,” you hesitated, fingers softly grazing his when you took it back, “thanks.”

You turned on your heel immediately and hastily made your way back to your room. You hoped to hide out there the rest of the day, praying maybe Logan would forget what he’d read or just let it be. You knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t.

You knew him so well because you were like mirrors of each other; smart mouthed and hot headed. You realized that the first couple months with the X-men, always butting heads with him until one mission where you had to grab the back of his jacket in an attempt to keep him where he was. You tugged with so much force that you nearly knocked him on his ass. Even Hank had never been bold enough to do that, not when Logan was as riled up as could be. From that point on, it was kind of an unspoken assumption that you would always be the one who calmed him down or held him back. So, you did just that; grabbing his wrist with both hands to force him to keep his claws to himself or pushing back against him when he tried to lunge at Scott for something stupid - though, after what he just pulled, you may just let Logan rip him apart next time. Though it was never acknowledged between the two of you, you were his anchor. You held him down when he began to drift away. Fortunately for you, he did the same - using minimal effort to keep you in place when you tried to go for someone’s face or going as far as to hike you over his shoulder and carry you away from the confrontation, all while you kicked and screamed to be let down. 

You avoided him the best you could for two days after the incident in the kitchen, quick comments in passing but never staying long enough for a full conversation out of fear that he’d bring up what he read. What were you supposed to say, anyway? ‘Sorry I thought about fucking you?’

You’d have to think of something because you were face to face in training a few days later. Scott stood to the side of you both, a stopwatch in his hand. 

“Alright, when I say go, whoever pins the other down for more than five seconds wins. Remember, you're each trying to beat your time from the last session.”

Scott’s voice almost sounded underwater. Your eyes were locked with Logan’s and though you wanted to rip your gaze away, you couldn’t.

“Ready? And…go!”

He backed out of the way and you tried to lunge at Logan, quickly being flipped onto your back.

“Okay, ow,” you whispered to yourself, immediately standing back up.

He tried to grab you when you stood but you caught his hand, twisting his arm behind his back to force him to the ground. You straddled his back and kept your weight on him but he was too quick, turning over and pushing you off him.

“Don’t get too excited, now,” he panted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You were caught off by the low cadence of his voice, inadvertently letting your guard down and giving him an opportunity to pin your arms above your head and keep your legs down with the weight of his knee. Scott began to count down and you racked your brain for a way to get yourself out from underneath him. 

You were able to pull one of your legs free, sending him a little off balance and using your leg on the side of his torso to roll him over on his back again. You straddled his waist, using your hands and your forearms to hold his down. That, however, left you nose to nose while panting for air. 

“What, you thought I’d let you win?” You asked, tongue poking at the corner of your open mouth. It was usual for you to tease each other with little snide comments. Nothing any different from the usual, right?

“Nah, I just really like havin’ you on top.”

Nope, definitely different. 

You didn’t even hear Scott call time on your match at first. 

“Hey! Lovebirds! I said you can get off each other. Jesus,” he groaned. You finally remembered where you were and quickly scrambled off of Logan. 

“Aw, really? It was just gettin’ good,” he chuckled. You could feel his eyes on you as you gathered your belongings with your back turned. You tried to step out into the hallway, praying he wouldn’t catch you before you met the elevator doors - of course, you weren’t that lucky.

“Hey, hey - princess, wait up,” you heard him call after you and you stopped, turning on your heel with an irritated expression.

“About the other day, the thing you wrote - “

You sighed, rubbing your face in distress and cutting him off before he could finish.

“Listen, Logan,” you quickly looked around the corridor to make sure you were alone, “I know what you read, I don’t wanna talk about it. It - look, it was some stupid phase where I had a crush and it’s over, okay?”

He tilted his head. You hoped he would simply nod and move on, but you watched his lips curl into a smile instead.

“Aw, what happened - you changed your mind?”

You knew him well enough to understand the look on his face. He was never gonna let this go - in fact, he was probably going to nearly torture you over it. 

“Shut up,” you huffed and continued to walk away, keeping your stare straight ahead.

“Aw, pretty girl -“

You dropped your belongings to the floor with an audible thud and gathered the front of Logan’s t-shirt in your fists, tugging him down to your height so you were face to face. 

“First of all, I told you not to call me that - ‘princess’, ’pretty girl’ - like I’m one of your little girlfriends. Okay, kitty cat?” you scolded through gritted teeth. He hated being called that and you knew it.

His eyebrows were raised and his lips parted in surprise.

“And second of all,” you continued with a deep breath, “you read it, it’s done - leave it be, would you? It doesn’t mean anything.”

You still had his shirt in your tight grip.

“Alright, alright - I’m just teasing,” he admitted, trying to pry your fingers from his t-shirt, “and I’m sorry, I never should’ve been reading it in the first place.” 

You sighed and finally let him go.

“Fine, I forgive you. And you can’t ever tell anyone what you read. Promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“So, we’re cool again? Nothings weird?”

“Not unless you make it weird.”

“You were the one flirting with me.”

“Uh - was not. I was simply creating a distraction to throw you off guard and it worked.”

“I’ll get you back.”

“Sure, you will.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

You and Logan were in forced proximity hours later, standing with Scott, Jean and Ororo in Charles’ office.

“Do we really have to go?” Logan groaned, hanging his head back in frustration.

You were staring at the thick paper invite atop Charles’ desk. All your names were scrawled in cursive, surrounded by small gold detailing with the event written on top. It was some kind of Gala, something for charity that you couldn’t quite make out from where you were standing.

“It would be a wonderful opportunity to represent the school, yourselves and the mutant population as a whole,” Charles answered.

“You really think wolvie and his little hothead wrangler are gonna be well behaved enough to not make a scene?” Scott gestured towards you both.

Logan stepped towards him and you instinctively grabbed the sleeve of his jacket to hold him back. He looked back at you, clearly annoyed.

“We’ll be fine,” you insisted while glaring daggers in Scott’s direction.

You didn’t notice that you were still holding the sleeve of Logan’s jacket when Charles dismissed you. You let go and cleared your throat as you followed him out of the room.

“There's no way in hell I'm wearing a suit,” he grumbled, looking down at his flannel and jeans.

“You don’t wanna play dress up?” You teased.

“And look like a stuck up prick? No.”

“I'm kind of excited to wear something nice for once,” you admitted, “I’ve got a couple nice dresses I’ve never even worn. Besides, maybe there’s gonna be a couple of hot, rich guys there.”

You were looking straight ahead as you walked side by side down the hall, smiling to yourself. If you had turned your head, you would have seen the way Logan rolled his eyes. 

“What, you’re gonna go home with some rich schmuck just ‘cause he’s got money?”

He sounded almost annoyed. You furrowed your eyebrows and shrugged. 

“I don’t know, if he’s good looking, maybe.”

That was only a little truthful. You were not the type of person who was comfortable enough to go back to a stranger's place or hook up with someone you’d never see again. But maybe you could, if it would keep your mind off Logan and convince him to forget about what he’d read a few days ago. And if the guy did have money? It certainly wouldn’t be a problem for you.

“Oh,” Ororo piped up from behind you, stretching out the vowel, “I see - you’re going shopping. Gotta try before you buy, huh?”

She playfully poked your side and you chuckled, swatting her hand away.

“Call it what you want,” you responded, “but I’m gonna have fun, at the very least.”

You would end up having fun - just in a much different way than you expected.

You decided on getting ready for the night in Ororo’s room when the time came a few weeks later. She was touching up her makeup at her vanity while you changed behind the bathroom door. 

“Does it fit?” She asked through the wood with her eyes still on her reflection.

You were attempting to zip the back of your dress with your arm stretched uncomfortably over your shoulder.

“In a way? Kind of.”

Jean entered the room just then, having already gotten ready in her and Scott’s room.

“She’s trying on a dress that’s been in her closet since last year that still had tags,” Ororo explained to her as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“Can one of you zip me up, though?” you sighed in defeat and opened the door, “I can’t get it.”

“Woah, mama!” Ororo comically wolf whistled and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

The dress was your favorite out of your collection of unworn clothing; it showed the perfect amount of skin and hugged your figure phenomenally. To top it off, the color complemented your skin in the best way possible.

“I don’t look silly? I feel a little funny getting all dolled up,” you confessed, turning around so Jean could pull your zipper up the rest of the way.

“Definitely not silly,” Jean reassured you but mumbled under her breath after, “Logan’s gonna lose it.”

You turned back around to quirk an eyebrow at her.

“Who cares what he thinks? Did I say I care what he thinks? ‘Cause I don’t. Like, at all.”

“Honey,” Ororo began, “we already know you like him, remember?”

You groaned and bent down to look into the mirror on her vanity.

“I don’t - not anymore, at least.”

“Yeah, right,” Jean giggled, “keep telling yourself that.”

Ororo looked at the time on her watch and hastily stood to slip on her shoes, “We’re gonna be late if we don’t leave soon. Logan and Scott are supposed to meet us downstairs.”

You stepped into your shoes and grabbed the little bag you’d carry for the night, following her and Jean out the door. When you finally got to the staircase, you could see Scott and Logan talking to each other at the bottom, the latter of the two standing with his back facing the stairs. 

“All right, ready!” Jean enthusiastically announced. If she hadn’t said anything, the simultaneous clicking of your shoes would’ve announced your presence for you.

Logan turned around to face you. At that moment, he wondered why he ever complained about going in the first place. His eyes were glued to you as you came down the stairs and you could feel yourself start to get warmer. 

He looked so good in a tux, Jesus Christ. You liked when he wore those tight fitting tanks and jeans, sure, but something about the formal attire really did it for you. His cologne wafting into your space when you stood next to him didn’t do much to help dispel any feelings you had, either. How badly you wanted to just forget the stupid event, tug him into your bedroom upstairs and show him that you were so not kidding about what you’d scribbled in your diary. Alas, that was certainly not going to happen.

‘Just an old crush,’ you internally tried to remind yourself, ‘just an old crush - that’s it. I’m not into him anymore.’

Except that you knew damn well it was a lie. 

“We’re gonna be late if we stand here any longer, c’mon,” Scott began walking with Jean while you, Logan and Ororo followed.

“You look nice,” Logan finally spoke as you made it to the door, “think you’ll bag any of those rich guys?”

You almost asked what he was talking about, too lost in thinking about how you actually wanted to bag him and not some stranger.

“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully, “but if I do, you’ll be the last to find out.”

“Oh, really? Why’s that?”

“Because I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Got that right.”

You eventually found yourself in a large, decorated open room, sat in the corner with Logan while he nursed a glass of whiskey and you anxiously scarfed down appetizers. The rest of the team had walked off to mingle - like normal people do.

“Kid, you’re gonna choke if you keep eatin’ that fast,” he warned you.

“ ‘m a stress eater,” you explained with a mouthful of fancy cheese, “besides, you’re a stress drinker. Thank god there’s so many tiny foods.”

He scoffed and took a sip of his drink. 

“What are you even stressed about, anyway? Half your job tonight is to just stand there and look pretty and you’ve already got that down.”

“Thank you, I think?” your eyes nervously scanned the room, “I just hate being in a crowded place, especially one this big that’s full of complete strangers.”

“Why do you think I’m holdin’ a glass right now?” 

Your eyes flickered between his and the half full glass in his hand. You wordlessly took it from his fingers before he even had time to react and downed the contents in one gulp.

“Well, that’s one way to calm your nerves,” he commented, “but if you keep drinkin’ like that, you’re gonna be face first on the ground before the nights even started.”

You were still holding a grimace from the burn of the alcohol but shook your head and cleared your throat, “I just needed the kick in the ass - I’m good.”

“So, you’re gonna go socialize? Good luck,” he raised his eyebrows, “something tells me these people aren’t really who we want to be hanging out with.”

“Why, because they have an immense amount of cash to burn and we don’t? You can’t hate people just because they have money, Logan.”

“Then how am I doin’ it right now?”

You rolled your eyes.

“I think there’s gotta be a few genuinely good people out there who just happen to be rich.”

“Uh-huh, and I think two plus two is five - it doesn’t make me right.”

“You know what? I’m going to prove you wrong,” you said smugly, standing up from the table. 

“I think you’ll prove me right.”

“You wanna bet?”

“It’s a deal.”

“What are we betting, exactly?”

“How ‘bout this - if either of us can find someone here we actually want to go home with, you win. If we don’t, I win.”

“Fine,” you narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms, “what does the winner get?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “we can figure it out later.”

With that, you both dispersed. You were still feeling uncomfortable but that wasn’t going to go away unless you did something about it. Do you just go up and talk to someone? What do you say?

“Excuse me,” a voice said from behind you and you turned around, only to be face to face with a cute guy in a tux.

“Oh, so they come up to you,” you thought immediately.

“Uh, I don’t mean to be forward with you, but you look very beautiful,” he said politely, a charming smile on his face, “I saw you when you walked in and wanted to say something, I just wasn’t sure if you came with someone.”

You took a second to respond, still processing the fact that he even came up to you. 

“Oh, thanks,” you finally replied, “you’re not too bad yourself.”

You tried to use humor to dispel the awkwardness - the type of awkwardness you feel when you get asked to go to a school dance in the seventh grade - but this guy was cute. If you just got to know him a bit, the mild discomfort would probably pass.

“I didn’t come here with anyone, by the way,” you added, “Well, I mean, I did but not in that way - I’m with friends.”

“That’s good to know,” he said, grinning, “in that case, would you wanna dance with me?”

You hadn’t even asked each other your names, and you didn’t really care. 

You nodded and let him take your hand, “I have to warn you, though - I’m no dancer.”

“Well, do I look like one? ‘Cause I’m certainly not, either. But when there’s a beautiful woman in the room that you really wanna talk to, you’ve got to think of a reason to go up and talk to her.”

“I don’t know - I think you just might be a bit of a smooth talker.”

He was and it was definitely working. He clicked his tongue and waved his hand dismissively.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t make me blush.”

He was funny, too. All you had to do was find out a little more about him - for the sake of the bet, yes, but also to determine the probability of breaking his bed frame later if it all went well.

So, you let him rest his arms around your waist and you put your hands on his shoulders. It was kind of nice to have someone so close. You started to feel mildly uncomfortable, though, as if someone was staring at you. You ignored it anyway, deciding it was just the anxiety of being in a place with a lot of people.

Really, it was Logan standing across the room with his stare glued to you two. He looked like he wanted to bore a hole into the poor guy's skull. When you finally caught sight of him, he turned and seemingly disappeared.

You spent a bit of time with your new date, intending to subtilely interrogate him to find out if he fit the criteria for your bet with Logan. Even if he didn’t? You might let him take you home anyway.

You sat with him at an abandoned table, leaning your head on your hand as you half - listened to him talk about stocks. You glanced around the room and spotted Logan again almost immediately. 

He was leaning against the wall with a girl hanging from his arm. She was talking away and he looked completely disinterested. The whole point of coming was to distract yourself from anything to do with him and there you were, ignoring your date to silently seethe at a girl who was only in his vicinity.

You tried to zone back in on the conversation and really pay attention when he started to talk about his job. It was some tech company you’d heard of, a big name in the industry.

“Oh, so, what do you do there?” 

“Well, I own it.”

You squinted and sat up straight.

“You own the company.”

It was more of a statement than a question.

He nodded and you raised your eyebrows. This was going much better than you anticipated. You couldn’t help but glance over at Logan to see that girl still standing with him.  She was twirling a strand of her long hair around her finger. She was undeniably pretty, so you wondered why he wasn’t even looking at her while she hung all over him.

“Hey, would you wanna dance with me again? I know it’s a little slow paced, but I love this song.”

You returned your attention to the man in front of you and smiled as politely as possible.

“You know what? Sure, why not.”

You let him lead you into the middle of the room and rest his hands on your hips. He pulled you much closer than you’d been standing before, so much so that you were nearly stepping on his shoes. His hands slid down further and you laughed a little to yourself. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? So you wondered why it didn’t feel like something you wanted at all.

You caught Ororo’s gaze from across the room and she smiled, flashing you a thumbs up. When you caught Logan’s gaze, he was anything but smiling. There was a reason you felt like all this was something you didn’t want - you knew you wished it was him you were standing with. Still, you weren’t sure of why he wouldn’t tear his eyes from you or why he had such a scowl on his face. 

You stopped staring back when your date planted a kiss on your forehead.

“What was that for?”

“Well, I kinda wanted to kiss you but I figured maybe goin’ right for the lips might have been too much.”

“We don’t even know each other's names.”

“Do we have to?”

You thought hard for a moment, wondering if Logan was still watching. It wasn’t fair to kiss someone just to try to make another person jealous, you knew that. He didn’t even have a reason to be jealous.

“You can kiss me.”

He was an alright kisser - nothing exciting. His lips were soft, though, and you liked the smell of his cologne. Before you could deepen the kiss any further, he was tugged backwards and off of you.

Logan had the back of the poor guy's jacket in his fists, nearly yanking him down to the floor with how much force he used.

“Alright, bub,” he grunted, “I think that's enough, she’s leavin’.”

You glared daggers at him with your lips parted in surprise.

“I can leave when I want to,” you said through gritted teeth, “what the hell is your problem?”

“Is he your boyfriend?” your date asked, nervously looking between you both.

“He’s n-” you began to answer and Logan cut you off as he grabbed your arm.

“Yeah. Get lost.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows in anger but could feel your face becoming warm. You weren’t totally sure if you were turning pink from how enraged you were with Logan or from the words that just came out of his mouth.

“Outside. Now,” you demanded, tugging your arm from his grip.

You turned to walk away and he followed as you grumbled to him, holding your dress up a bit so you wouldn’t trip as you stomped out.

‘What the fuck was that?”

He didn’t answer, simply following at your heels with his eyes on the marble floor of the corridor. You swung open the door and stepped into the cool summer evening air, waiting until the door shut behind you to speak again.

“What, you didn’t want me to win the bet?” you guessed with raised eyebrows.

“You’re really gonna let some guy you don’t know shove his tongue in your mouth?”

You stood in stunned silence for a moment.

“Are you kidding? How is that any of your business?”

He scoffed and shook his head.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna let some asshole be all over you just ‘cause he's got money.”

“What?” you furrowed your eyebrows, “why do you care?”

“Why don’t you? Seriously, you’d just go home with some guy and fuck him?”

“I don’t - I don’t know,” you stuttered, “maybe, but that was part of that stupid bet! Not that it’s any of your concern!”

You were nearly shouting at each other.

He clicked his tongue and spoke in a sour tone, “none of my concern, sure. I didn’t think you’d actually try and go home with someone -”

“Okay, you know what?” you threw your hands up in frustration, “I don’t know what the hell your problem is or why you’re acting like some jealous boyfriend, but fucking cut it out!”

You were both finally quiet for a moment. The sound of cicadas and crickets songs filled the silence. Logan’s face was pleading, his features highlighted by the soft golden yellow light seeping through the building’s windows.

“You just don’t get it, do you?” he mumbled under his breath, his arms crossed over his chest.

You raised your eyebrows, “get what?”

You sounded exasperated, sick of playing what felt like the worst game of twenty questions ever.

Logan brought a hand to his face, scratching at his facial hair - something you recognized as a nervous habit.

“That stupid fuckin’ notebook, the little one you write in,” he groaned, “I just wish I never read it.”

“So, you’re mad about that?” You asked, clearly still confused as to what he was trying to say, “listen, I’m sorry, it wasn’t -“

“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying,” he interrupted, “it’s - fuck, I don’t know. I don’t know, It's like I read that damn thing and lost my mind.”

You waited for him to elaborate, a puzzled expression still plastered on your face.

“It’s all I can think about, all the time - it's like I close my eyes and I can still see it written down in your chicken scratch. I don’t even know what to do, It’s so stupid,” he huffed.

You still didn’t understand what he was trying to tell you or whether he was talking to you or himself.

“And then - I don’t know, alright - you look so…” he groaned with his face in his hands, “I like you - is that enough? Ya’ get it? I liked you for awhile and then Scott had to go peekin’ through shit that wasn’t his and reading that shit you wrote just made it even worse for me. I’m supposed to read that you wanna ‘fuck me senseless’ and just let it go? You thought that wasn’t gonna do something to me?”

You were slack jawed, feeling like your legs were going to give out from under you.

He seemed angry, his nostrils flaring while he held a frown.

“So…you -“ 

His hands cupped your face and he leaned down close enough for you to feel his warm breath on your skin.

“So, I want you to fuck me like you said you wanted to.”

Your eyes grew so wide that you feared they might pop out of your head. 

“Would you, if I asked?” He continued in a low voice.

Your stomach erupted in butterflies and you nodded without hesitation. Conversations like this with Logan had only ever happened in your dreams.

His lips finally connecting with yours made your head spin. If he wasn’t tenderly holding your face, you might’ve just let yourself fall to the ground.

“I’ve been thinking about you for months, you know,” he admitted when he pulled away, “watchin’ when you walk away, thinking about how you say my name, wishing I could just tell ya’ - I didn’t have the nerve. Seein’ you with another guy, though - I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought I could and I just can't.”

You almost expected to hear the beeping of your alarm clock that would startle you awake in your bedroom. Still, it never came. You could feel his hot breath on your face, the breeze on your skin, the warmth of his hands; it was all too real.

“You mean it? All of it?”

You didn’t know why your voice sounded so desperate, almost pleading with him not to toy with you.

“ ‘course I do. Of course, I mean - god, look at you.”

His mouth was on yours again and you smiled against his lips, your cheeks tinted pink.

“Hey, wait,” you pulled away momentarily, “why did you agree to that bet in the first place, then?”

He gnawed on his bottom lip anxiously.

“I kinda figured you wouldn’t be able to find someone good enough, I don’t know - maybe I could convince you to come back with me instead.”

“That was your plan?” you let out a small laugh, smiling so wide that your face began to ache.

“Well, It might’ve worked if you hadn’t met what’s-his-face in there.”

“I don’t know his name,” you shrugged, “didn’t care to ask.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you.

“I let him kiss me because I wanted to make you jealous,” you admitted, “I still like you.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

His expression was as smug as could be.

“That you still like me? Yeah.”

“How? Am I that obvious?”

“It’s not your fault,” he shrugged and lowered his voice to a whisper as he put his lips to your ear, “I could smell how wet you’ve been all night.”

You swallowed hard and shivered when his hand slid up your back.

“And it worked, by the way - I’m jealous.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded and leaned his forehead against yours.

“Well,” you affectionately scratched at the hair at the back of his head, “are you gonna do something about it, then?” 

He kissed you with much more fever than before and you caught his lower lip between your teeth, making him groan into your mouth. His hands were in your hair to push you even further into him to the point he was practically hunched over your body. When you finally took a second to catch your breath, you had a realization.

“I won the bet.”

He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Please tell me you don’t mean you’re actually still gonna go home with that guy.”

“No,” you rolled your eyes and let out an amused scoff, “I meant you, Logan.”

“Me,” he repeated with a beaming smile, “you’re coming home with me.”

You nodded and giggled, absentmindedly fixing the hair hanging in front of his forehead. 

He was staring into your eyes in a way that had you feeling as though there was nothing else around you - no fancy party inside, no responsibility to socialize - just you and Logan in the cool light of the moon. He was studying your face like he’d never see it again if he turned away.

“What if I couldn’t wait till we got home?” He asked quietly. His warm breath just barely grazed your lips.

Your eyes widened and you thought for a moment, looking between him and the door beside you.

“C’mere,” you instructed simply, taking him by his hand and leading him inside to walk down the main hallway. You scanned the area and once you were sure no one would see either of you, you began trying knobs of different doors to see if one would open. When one finally gave, you slipped inside with Logan in toe and flicked on the lights. It was a small dusty office, one that probably hadn’t been used in a few months at the very least.

Neither of you wasted any time in taking advantage of your newfound isolation. Logan was kissing you like he was starving to taste you, working his way down your neck with an open mouth to leave darkening spots slick with his saliva.

“Logan,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed momentarily from the way he was nipping and sucking at your skin.

“I love when you say my name,” he admitted, mumbling into your neck. His hands were everywhere - tangled in your hair, resting on your waist, your hips, your ass - he was desperate to keep his hands on you now that he had you. 

You disconnected your lips for a moment so you could hop back to sit up on the top of the desk behind you. You hiked the skirt of your dress above your knees to avoid ripping it and motioned for him to stand between your knees as you held the middle of the skirt down with one hand.

“I’ve got an idea for my reward for winning the bet,” you smiled mischievously, leaning up to hold his chin and force him to look you in the eye, “what do you say, pretty boy? You wanna be part of it?”

He nodded eagerly and the pace of his breathing increased significantly.

“Good,” you leaned back on one hand, using the other to tug at Logan’s suit jacket, “off.”

He obeyed without hesitation and shrugged the garment off his shoulders. He began to untuck his shirt and you stopped him with a gentle touch.

“Did I say to take that off too, sweetheart? I don’t think I did,” you spoke softly in a firm tone.

“No - no, ma’am.”

It drove you crazy to have him under your thumb in that way, his usual domineering nature and dominance melting away by the second. 

“So do as you're told, baby,” you instructed, “if you’re good for me, maybe I’ll reward you back.”

You could see him swallow hard, eyelids nearly fluttering closed when he thought of all the possibilities of what that might entail. 

“F- mhm, fuck,” he stuttered when you brought a hand to the front of his pants and barely grazed the spot below the button with your fingertips. He began to twitch more and more with every touch.

“Are you gonna say yes?” your voice was near taunting, “or do I have to try a little more convincing?”

You popped the button on the front of his pants with ease and slid your hand underneath to feel him over the soft fabric of his underwear.

“Yeah, yes, I - ah, yeah,” he moaned in response, rocking his hips towards your hand and resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You smiled and gently kissed his temple.There was something so lovably vulnerable about the way he was acting with you. You knew he’d never let another soul find out that he loved what you did to him - dreaming of you whispering affectionate nicknames and praise as he sloppily pounded into you or spending hours on his sore knees just so he could feel you cum on his face - but the intensity of his devotion bordered otherworldly. 

“Do me a favor, baby,” you started, lifting your hips for a second to drag your panties down your legs, “take out your pretty cock for me.”

He obeyed, tugging his pants down his thighs just enough for his already hard dick to spring up out of the confines of his briefs. You inadvertently licked your lips at the sight, thinking of how heavenly he’d feel in you. He was huge, but for a guy who’s six foot two, it wasn’t a surprise.

He stood expectantly between your legs with his hands on your thighs. You leaned back on both hands, cocking your head to the side as you spoke.

“Touch yourself first and maybe I’ll let you touch me.”

The ‘maybe’ was a bluff. He knew as well as you did that you’d let him touch you regardless.

“Gimme your hand,” you ordered before he could even wrap his fingers around himself. You leaned your mouth over the palm of his hand and spat.

He groaned from the gesture alone, knees nearly buckling when he finally brought his hand down to coat his cock in your saliva.

“Feels good?” You cooed, eyes flickering from his face to his leaking cock in his fist.

“Mm - mhm, yeah, ‘s good,” he panted, “really fucking good.”

You failed an attempt to hide your wide smile, hypnotized by the repeated motion of his hand. He looked so pretty like this - his jaw hung open, chest heaving while his face became more flushed with every passing second. You could feel the rush of heat in your lower stomach just from watching him.

You couldn’t help yourself from leaning forward a little and unbuttoning his shirt from the top down, all while he watched you intently, his breathing becoming heavier the closer your hand came to his.

“Think of you all the time when I do this at home,” he panted, “you’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

The compliment made your heart swell; it was a sweet remark that so greatly contrasted the obscene speed of his hand as he stroked himself. 

“You’re such a pretty boy,” you whispered and planted a kiss on his pink cheek, “you look amazing.”

You caught the way the motion of his hand slowed and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching forward and wrapping your fingers around his cock. He growled, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Don’t work yourself up so soon, kitty cat, or you’re gonna be finished before I even get to fuck you,” you murmured into his ear and he gasped as you started to pump him.

“Don’t - ah - don’t call me that,” he whimpered.

“Aw, you don’t like it, my pretty kitty?”

He growled again, even more animalistically , but his hips jerking into your hand told you he really didn’t hate that nickname as much as he told you he did.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” you continued to tease, “I know you like it - you love bein’ my big, pretty kitty.”

He groaned, lifting his head from your shoulder and crashing his lips into yours. 

“Sh-shut up,” he managed to grunt.

You immediately withdrew your hand and sat back again.

He whimpered from the loss of contact and looked at you with pleading eyes, silently asking why you stopped.

“I said you had to be good for me, didn’t I?” you asked.

He nodded, eyes traveling from your thighs, up your body and then back down again. 

“Good boys don’t talk back,” you said simply, raising your eyebrows.

“I’m sorry, I’ll - I’m good, I’ll behave, just please -“

His speech was cut short when you hiked your dress up even further to expose your bare, wet pussy.

“Fucking Christ,” he moaned.

You tugged the top of your dress down to expose your chest and he had to grip the desk you were sitting on so his legs wouldn’t give out from under him. 

“If you can be real quiet,” you pushed some fallen hair out of his face, “I’ll let you cum in me. You want that?”

“Please, ‘v been thinking of that for fucking weeks,” he begged, “please, please, baby.”

He tentatively cupped one of your breasts and you rested your hand atop his, encouraging him to squeeze and knead however he pleased. You spurred him on to the point that he couldn’t resist leaning down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking while his fingers toyed with the other one.

You couldn’t help whining from the sensation of his mouth on you while you combed your fingers through his hair.

He finally detached himself after ravishing your chest in wet kisses and left a string of saliva connecting his tongue to your nipple. You giggled a little to yourself and crashed your lips into his again in a heated mess of tongues and teeth. You scooted your hips up on the table and used your grip on his cock to graze his tip up against you, making him shudder.

“You’re so - fuck, you’re such a fuckin’ tease,” he gasped and held your hips in an iron grip.

“What’d I say about back talk?” you moved the head of his cock further away from you.

He groaned in frustration, moving his hands to hold your face, “Honey, I’m already beggin’ -  please, I need you.”

The desperation in his voice made you even wetter.

“I guess you’ve been pretty good for me - do you think you deserve it?” 

He nodded eagerly and placed his hand over yours that was around him. You let him nudge your hand away to align himself with your entrance. His eyes bore into yours as he finally began to push himself into you, rocking his hips slowly to help you adjust to his size. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his around your waist. When he fully sheathed himself inside of you, he let out a loud moan that echoed through the small space.

“I told you to be quiet, sweetheart,” you whispered into his ear.

“Uh-huh, ‘s a lil’ hard when I’m fuckin’ a girl I’ve been dreamin’  about for months,” he mumbled, working up a steady pace while you wrapped your legs around him and locked your ankles at the small of his back to help push him further into you.

“You feel so good, Logan,” you moaned, kissing down his jaw and throat.

He groaned at full volume again.

“Are you gonna stay quiet? or do I have to shut you up? Hm?” you grinned and he made an even louder noise. You reached behind you to find your panties and folded them into a ball, holding his jaw with your other hand.

“Open.”

He obeyed immediately, rolling his eyes into the back of his head when you stuffed them into his open mouth.

“Good kitty.”

He let out a muffled growl and the speed of his hips increased.

“Yeah,” you panted, “I know you like that.”

The angle at which he was fucking you made it so that he was hitting the sensitive spot inside of you over and over again, making you gasp each time. Sweat was forming on his neck and down both your chests, practically sticking your skin together in the hot, stuffy room.

“You’re - you’re so pretty,” you told him truthfully, admiring the rosey tint of his face and the drool that was starting to run down from the corner of his mouth. His eyelids fluttered closed and he started to thrust into you hard enough to shake the desk you were sitting on. 

“Easy, kitty cat - you’re gonna break somethin’,” you muttered into the hot skin of his neck with a smug smile on your face.

His pace didn’t falter in the slightest, his hands gripping your ass to push you towards him every time he slammed his hips forward. The fabric of your panties muffled the guttural moan he choked on when you lightly sunk your teeth into his shoulder. He slid his hand between your bodies to bring his thumb to your clit, working tight circles around the bundle of nerves in rhythm with the thrust of his hips.

“Fuck, fuck, I-“ you were speechless, at a loss for words from the brutal combination of the pressure he applied with his fingers and the way he repeatedly hit that spot inside of you. His eyes were squeezed shut and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, still whining and growling like an animal into the fabric of your underwear. You felt the heat in your lower stomach start to build and you buried your face in his shoulder, your mascara smudged under your eyes.

“Logan, Logan, I’m - ah - ‘m gonna come,” you warned, tugging on the back of his hair.

He groaned and yanked the fabric out of his mouth, immediately bringing his lips to yours so he could tenderly make out with you while the squelching sound of your dripping cunt filled the room. 

“C’mon,” he growled into your mouth, “c’mon, baby, please.”

Both your chins were slick with each other's saliva from the frantic way you’d smashed your lips together. Your whining and pleading became louder with every roll of his hips until the sensation sent you over the edge, euphoria blossoming from your lower stomach and spreading all throughout your body.

“Oh my god, Logan,” you nearly yelled, your hands slipping under his open shirt to scratch down his back, “s-so good. I love you.”

The three words slipped out without hesitation and your eyes widened, mild humiliation replacing the fading feeling of your orgasm.

His hips rutted against yours when you spoke and he leaned his face down so he was nose to nose with you.

“Love you so much.”

He kissed you softly with both his hands on your cheeks, so filled with affection that you could’ve cried. He slid his hands down back to your hips and kept his forehead against yours as he continued to drill into you.

“I don’t - I don’t ever wanna see ya’ with anybody else,” he panted, “I needed ya’ so bad. You - ah - ya’ drive me crazy.”

Even after having already came, his pussy-drunk rambling still spawned butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

“You’ll never see me with someone else, baby - promise. ‘s always been you. Only ever really wanted you,” you admitted with a soft voice.

His thrusts became sloppy and you could tell that spurring him on with your words would make him finish just as quickly as you did.

“I’m yours, always have been,” you whispered in his ear, “you’re the only one I’ve ever thought about fucking me like this.”

He choked out a sob into your shoulder and came with an animalistic growl, looking down to watch the mess being made all over your inner thighs.

“Love you so fucking much,” he repeated with a sigh, slowly stopping the thrust of his hips and resting his head against yours again.

“I love you, too,” you replied and planted a sweet kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Sorry I made such a mess of ya’,” he apologized, spreading your thighs as he pulled out, “I’ll clean ya’ up when we’re home, I swear.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you chuckled, readjusting your dress and slipping your underwear back on while Logan tucked himself back into his pants and buttoned his shirt.

You caught a glimpse of the watch on his wrist as he moved and grabbed his hand so you could see the time.

“Shit! We were supposed to meet everyone back out front ten minutes ago,” you realized aloud, slipping yourself off the desk and pulling your dress down.

He mirrored your haste and let you fix his hair, doing the same for you and wiping away the mascara under your eyes.

“Okay, okay, c’mon,” you insisted, opening the door and slipping out hand in hand. You scurried down the abandoned corridor and all the way to the front exit. When Logan pushed open the door, you were met with Jean, Scott, and Ororo standing with worried expressions.

“What happened to you guys?” Scott asked before Jean nudged him in the arm, pointing towards your intertwined hands.

You looked towards where she was pointing and back up again, “Oh, uh…”

You tried to think of an excuse and looked to Logan beside you for help. 

“Nothin’,” he said in a nonchalant manner, “just got lost around the place - lot’s of rooms in there.”

Ororo raised her eyebrows suspiciously. 

“Sure, and, uh - Is that why you’re holding hands?”

You laughed a little, tugging his hand behind your back.

“Well,” you started, “remember I said I’d try to bag a guy tonight? Um-”

“I’ve been bagged,” Logan interrupted with a huge, smug grin.

“I wasn’t gonna put it like that,” you insisted, “but - yeah.”

“Finally,” Jean huffed and rolled her eyes, “I thought we’d have to have an intervention.”

“Huh?” Logan narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, c’mon,” Ororo laughed, “we all knew you liked each other, even before you did.” 

“And you never said anything?” Logan asked.

“Neither of you ever believed us!”

“True,” you agreed with a shrug and giggle. 

“I believe you now,” he stated, still holding your hand as you all made your way into the night, “She might like me. Just a little bit.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

A/N: Thank you so much if you read till the end :) !! I did get stuck with some writers block in the middle of this and I'm not completely fulfilled w it but if I kept working on it it may take another week and my brain can't do it

Still working on requests rn so if you sent one in, I haven't forgotten about you!!! I'm trying to do two at a time so I can keep up (I won't burn myself out dw I usually do nothing all day till I work in the afternoon) <3

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine, I kept thinking about a Kamisato Ayato in a modern day AU in which him and the reader were going through a divorce because things are not going the way it was supposed to be and the marriage is just not working out anymore. When suddenly, suddenly he had an amnesia.

Imagine instead of his mistress, it was you whom he kept looking for, demanding to see upon waking up after the accident. Leaving his mistress baffled and confused just as you are upon arriving at the hospital, hoping that little shitty of a husband dead only to find him demanding and desperately looking for you in the midst of this messy and chaotic moment.

"Anata." His voice soften in contrast to his shouts earlier before you enter the room, doctors, nurses and his mistress all inside. "Anata." He called out again but you just stood there as he desperately tried to call your attention. "Anata, who are these people inside the room? What's happening?" He called out and question you, you knew he was calling you because he was looking at you, not anyone but you. Which is pretty funny because he haven't called you that for years, ever since the marriage started falling apart.

"He must have hit his head pretty hard Doc." You spoke nonchalantly, not in the mood to deal with all this bullshit. "It's been years since he called me like that. Can someone explain to me what's happening with my husband?" "Husband? Then who-?" "His mistress." You replied. "As I'm saying- asking rather, can someone explain to me what happened to this guy over here?" "... Very well, Mr. Kamisato over here is involved in a car accident and had brain concussion. As we can see..."

Imagine walking into the room, not that you want to. But upon walking into the room, you are quite surprised to find him alone in there. You were quite expected him to have his mistress with him but turns out that was not the case. "Who's that?" "Who's who?" "That person who was here earlier calling me her lover." "Oh. Well she is exactly who she said she was, she's your lover." You answered, sitting on the sofa inside the private room. Looking away and pulling your phone to check out your notifications. Because goddammit, how dare he look so hurt by those words?

"She what-? Why? Tell me you're joking." You have never seen him look so confused before. Looking back and forth to the notifications on your phone and to the man right in front of you. You sigh, causing him to flinch. "The doctor told me you can be dismissed in two days because you're still under observation. And while you're current suffering from amnesia, they said there was still a possibility of you regaining your memories so don't treat her pretty harshly. I know it could be confusing at first but you'll het over it." You explain and then stood up, "Then, I'll get going now."

Imagine glancing at him only to see him look so broken, like he was waiting, begging for someone to wake him from his dream, from his nightmare. You look away, it's not like it hurts to see him like that. It stopped hurting years ago. Nevertheless, once again you sigh. "Anata-" "I can't have children." "It doesn't matter-" "Well it does now, Ayato." You smile softly at him. "And that explains everything." You added before turning your back at him and walking towards the door. "Oh right, please sign the divorce paper. You wouldn't want your future child to be labelled illegitimate, no?"

Imagine hearing him call out- scream after you but you just kept walking without looking back. You ignore his cries and call with all your might, and walking past the corridor, "Go on, comfort him." You said as you walked pass the woman. "I'm sorry." She said, sounding like she was about to cry and you couldn't help but to smile a little, "No, I'm sorry." You replied as you continue to walk your way out of the hospital.

Imagine going inside the car, your cachuffere already waiting for you inside. And in the middle of the ride, "Want to smoke?" "Nahh" You declined as you look at the city lights. "Are you sure you wouldn't regret this?" "What are you talking about." You chuckle. "He might remember everything one day." "He won't. And even if he did, he wouldn't be able to do anything by then." You answered. "He would hate you." "Then much better." You replied.

"Is it?" "Hmm?" "For the better?" Well in comparison to the amount of suffering he has to go through cause by his elders just because he has yet to produce a heir to the clan, questioning and criticising his title as the chairman and chief of the Kamisato clan, it would be much better to get rid of his one of only flaw. His spouse that couldn't give him a heir. Closing your eyes, this is nothing, "Yeah, for the better." I'm sorry, my love.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

: I'm getting a hang of this crocheshit. Ily may pasok na ko bukas yawa ayoko na pumasok. Also, this imagine escalated real quick like no sht. I was writing this for fluff but???

[mysterymachine67]

SO, i want you to hear me out.

i have to remember all my stuff for re, but let's say we have Leon when he's still just starting out as a cop before he even goes to raccoon city and our beloved reader is a captain in the police department. Leon is a little tired after it all, filing cases and spending nights at the station. eventually the reader catches Leon while he's finishing up documenting a case and they finally get to talking. sooner rather than later they discover they share a couple hobbies and slowly they begin to talk. Leon is stressed and who else but the captain of the station is going to help him and reward him for his hard work?

PAIRING -> Leon S. Kennedy x M!Reader

SUMMARY -> Leon’s new, a rookie. He does his best, stays late to do and catch up on work, and is one of the best men you got even for him to be new. What happens when he finally gets to have a full conversation with his captain?

NSFW. MINOR’S DNI.

I wanna bite him.

You’ve only known him for about a month and he’s already your favorite. Yes, you’re well aware you shouldn’t be picking favorites, but he stays late, gets papers done quick, and does things he doesn’t need to be doing until a whole month. Meanwhile all the other “older” cops think they get an extra week to do something just because they’ve been there longer. Which was not true whatsoever.

Back to Leon, you’ve spoken to him a bit. Probably not as much as you should, but the thought counts. As far as you know, he’s a hard worker and is dedicated to do his best. But you can also see that he try’s a bit too much. You’ll need to tell him he can take a step back every once in a while.

It was another night, Leon already knew he was gonna have to stay a few extra hours. Sighing he opened up a folder, taking out the notes and documents that were inside. He took a quick look at the papers, going over them yet again. Just as he was about to pull another thing out of the folder, he heard footsteps. Which immediately alerted him. Turns out the footsteps were yours, you were getting ready to leave the station and go home. With you standing there, looking at Leon without saying or doing anything, it was beginning to get awkward. Soooo, you spoke up. Clearing your throat first. “Well,” you begin, starting to walk up to him. “I think we haven’t fully gotten to know each other.” He stared up at you, blinking a few times before responding.

“Oh! Uh..” Leon started, but never seemed to finish. Not knowing what question to ask or how to start off. He stood up, though. Holding his hand out to shake yours, which you did as well. You then started a conversation, first asking a question then following up with a statement. Which this went on for at least fifteen minutes. The both of you going back and forth, asking questions about one another; finding out that you had some things in common and have similar interests. The conversation was sweet, interesting. Yet it took a turn when you got closer to him. It was friendly, not purposely meant to intimidate him or anything. He continued to look up at you, struggling to keep his composure. Why the hell was this so difficult? You kept up the conversation, tried to. You, yourself were starting to get a little amped up. You couldn’t stop stealing looks at his lips, which was a problem. You were his captain, not his fuck buddy.

The sexual tension between you guys was so obvious and strong, but neither of you made a move. That was until you couldn’t take it anymore. Your thoughts ran through your mind and eventually went down to your cock.

He was a stressed out, tired, hardworking man. If you two were to do something, this one night probably wouldn’t mean anything. He needed something—someone to help him. Being not necessarily pent up but in need of some sort of relief. And you were there with him, alone, in an empty police station possibly flirting with him. Yeah, this wouldn’t mean anything, right? Wrong. Things escalated, you moved things out of the way on his desk. Once in the clear, the two of you moved back. Lips connected while grabbing at each other. When he got close enough, he sat himself up on his desk. Hands then coming up to the sides of your face—holding while the two of you kissed. You angled yourself, pressing against him in a way that he could feel you’re hard-on. “Mm..” he groaned, muffled by your lips. Should he be doing this? Absolutely not. Is he going to do it anyway and savor this moment? Yes.

“Y’feel what you do to me? God—“ you huffed, against his mouth. “You work so hard—fuckin’ perfect.”

Leon whined, shifting his position so that he could wrap his legs around you and pull you impossibly close. His hands went down to your belt, starting to quickly undo it. After that was out of the way he started on your pants. Which in the process you bucked into his touch without even realizing. You captured his lips again, this time the kiss was nothing but tongue and teeth. The two of you needed each other so bad you kept messing things up. Fumbling with taking off clothes, knocking things over, accidentally forgetting to do something. But in the end, he still got your cock shoved into him as if he was gonna disappear within seconds.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The sweet, sweet sounds that left Leon’s mouth were heavenly. Mouth open, eyes shut, and head back against the table. His legs were wrapped around your waist, purposely squeezing to pull you closer to him—get your cock deeper than it already was. “Such a hard worker, aren’t you? The moment you got here you worked, ‘n worked, ‘n worked.”

Leon whined, dick jumping and twitching at your words. He clenched around you—beginning to squirm. God, he was pretty. The way he reacted to your touch, praise, and whatever else you gave him. The sheen of sweat all over his body made him glisten in the dim light. Which just added onto the list of things that made him fucking beautiful. You dragged your hips back slowly, then pushed forward at the same pace. Your thrusts were slow, yes, but you made up for it by making sure you were deep inside him.

When you sped up your pace Leon cursed under his breath. The brutal pace catching him off guard.

“Shit!”

“Nothin’ you can’t take.” You cooed.

He breathed out a whimper—legs twitching. You leaned down over him, pressing your lips to his skin. His eyes were shut, it was all beginning to be too much. Your cock pushing into him at a relentless pace, your words, your touch. His dick leaked and throbbed—begging for some sort of attention. But it all felt good. It was something he deserved for working so much, so hard. “Oh- ohh..” Leon moaned. He clenched around you, gripping your cock. It caused a low groan to crawl from your throat. Your lips trailed up and up, pressing a kiss to his collarbone before sucking a hickey. Then moving on to his throat, forcing him to move his head up.

In a few minutes, Leon’s back was arching, his hands gripped the edge of the table he was on, and he was moving his hips up into the air as he came. Spurts of white shooting from his tip, and onto his chest; staining that area white. He huffed, chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath. It didn’t help when you kept thrusting into him, even when your hips started to stutter and fuck up the rhythm you’d set. He began to squirm. A whine slipping from his spit slicked lips.

You moaned, hips jerking as you finally came. You filled him up with your cum, and watched as it soon started to leak and drip from his hole. He felt so full. Stuffed with your cock and your cum. “Fuck..” he whispered. It was silent for a few seconds, well, aside from you two trying to control your breathing. But once you got ahold of it, you leaned back down and whispered straight into his ear.

“We ain’t done.”

[dcangel]

kinda hyper-fixated on riding stiles and calling him a big boy at the same time.

because this man boy would sit there underneath you, bottom teeth scraping at his upper lip as he tries to contain his pretty whimpers that kept escaping him. his fingers gripping, digging into the pudgy fluff of your hips and thighs. “y’so tight.”

your nails scratched at his v-line, deep red lines being left by pretty maroon nails—his favorite colors. “jus’so fucking big, sti…” you breathed out, “such a big boy, hmm?”

“mm-mhm.” he whines softly. stiles couldn’t believe how turned on he was by her dirty words, by how much he wanted to please her. who knew such an innocent, doe-eyed girl could spew such filthy words from such a pretty mouth.

you couldn’t help it, with the way he was stretching your walls and pressing those oh so good spots inside you that your own fingers couldn’t reach, how were you supposed to maintain that ingenuousness?

his nails burrowed into your soft skin, leaving little crescent shapes. his eyes were glued to where he disappeared inside you with each bounce and thrust. the wet squelching noises were squalid, and most times he couldn’t hear much else. only when his view was obstructed by your face did his pull his eyes up to meet yours. you flattened yourself against him; your stomach on his, and your breasts resting on his chest. to stiles, the feeling of skin-on-skin contact was worth more than words. it was the only thing that could bring him back to this planet after you overworked him.

you smiled when you saw those gorgeous brown eyes of his finally connecting with yours. “there we go.”

stiles was overwhelmed; you were on top of him, giving him so many sensations, so many things to touch or relish in. he couldn’t choose. you leaned down to darken the fading hickey right at the base of his neck, having given him one in that spot a few days ago. you simply didn’t see a point in letting it fade. he might as well have gotten it tattooed if he wasn’t so afraid of needles.

a deep-purple mark bloomed right over the spotty red one, and you made sure he would still be able to hide it with his flannels for a few days. your thumb wiped the spit from the bruised skin so you could get a full view of your work. stiles knew he’d be admiring the mark in every mirror he passed by, thankful that it was only one tug of a shirt collar away.

your hips rocked against his, not even pulling up anymore. you just loved the way his tip grazed your cervix—like scratching an itch only he could get—and how your swollen clit ground against his lower abdomen.

“you’re so perfect,” his words came from a place deep in his mind, so breathy, so pussydrunk, “i love you.”

knowing stiles didn’t even care for a response in return, not that he’d even be aware of one, you kissed his swollen lips (both his and your doing) to bring him back down to earth, even if only for a few seconds. you thumbed over the plush skin, purely admiring your boy, feeling both proud of and admirable of his prevailing state.

“you’re so good, sti.” the words weren’t really meant as a praise for him. rather, you said it because you genuinely meant it. “my big boy. fillin’ me up so well.”

you swore you saw something behind his eyes malfunction. his cock twitched inside you as he grasped at your hips, unintentionally taking control for just a few seconds so he could move you back and forth, his dick slapping against your spongy walls. your fingers pressed into his shoulders as you clung around him like a vice.

stiles was whimpering desperately and hastily, each one interrupting the next. it was so refreshing that stiles wasn’t afraid to let those sound freely flow from his pretty mouth or be loud for you. he didn’t care if his noises weren’t deep and guttural, although they certainly could be at times. and you favored either or depending on who was taking care of who; his whiny whimpers and soft moans coming out when he was desperate and being especially needy, or his low, throaty groans and praises when he needed to show you how much he loved you.

“i—shit,” he whimpered, high pitched and needy like you adored. “f-fuck,” stiles groaned deeply. it was so broken up, his voice so cracked, so desperate that it sounded like he was pleading. not pleading for a release, but pleading for forgiveness. you quickly felt his reason for pleading spill inside you: warm and thick.

“sorry, sorry, m’sorry.” stiles’ breaths were reduced ragged gasps as he clutched your waist, his arms finding their home around your body. “love you so much.”

you bit your lip at the gushing feeling flooding your already-filled hole. “hmnn, stiles.” you felt him bury his face in your neck, sweaty skin on sweaty skin as he murmured apologies and compliments of how good you feel.

it was moments like these that softened your heart even through such intimacy; moments where he came without warning or any signs, where his forehead nestled perfectly in the curve at the base of your neck, where he was reduced to muffled, strangled whines and sometimes apologies if he could muster them. and all because of a few words—of course with the help of being inside you, but you were sure you could probably just make him come with your words alone.

somewhere along the way of your cunt throbbing in time with his milked cock, and slowly lifting your hips only to drop them back down lazily, you found your own sweet release. stiles was slightly overworked, slightly overstimulated, but this was such a perfect sight in your eyes.

you took a peek down at where the two of you connected, and a thin, white-ish ring was formed at the base of his length. each time you lifted yourself up, strings of milky white liquid kept another physical attachment with him. the build up was definitely worth it in its own way, but the release was divine. as always, though. stiles, even when he may not be completely all there in the moment, always knew how to send you hurdling toward what you swear is the best orgasm each time. he’s definitely fought you before for who had the better orgasm, ending in round twos all the way to round fives. how you two managed to make it that far was a damn mystery as well as a miracle.

but right now, you were only focused on your boy—your pretty boy, and the alluring noises seeping from those pink, kiss-bitten lips. “’love you more, pretty boy.” you halfheartedly chaffed.

his response was the reason for the returning gibes: a small muffled whine of some muddled words. and stiles never failed to live up to any nicknames or unserious expectations you tauntingly gave him.

[shroomyv]

ᢉ𐭩-MARK BEING A (CUTE) BOTHER

Pairing: mark grayson x f!reader

Synopsis: mark being a little shit while you’re trying to actually get productive work done.

Warning: probably a tad bit cheesy but who cares

A/N: omg I’m finally writing a story where mark isn’t fucking/getting his brains fucked out say wahhhhhhh. Anyway, just a lil domestic/fluffy lil story while I work on some bigger ones. Nobody can convince me that mark wouldn’t be cute annoying, NOBODYYYY 😞…(I loaf him sm…)

“Shew shew-“ you grumble as Mark keeps smashing his face against yours while you’re busy working. Your fingers clack away at the keyboard trying to get done as quickly as possible he just bothers you.

“How does this have anything to do with all your telekinesis crap or something,” Mark asked in an annoyed tone continuing to bother you—he wanted to have fun with you while he was free but for once you were the one busy. He was kind of getting a taste of his own medicine.

“Because it just does, now go before I kick your ass.” Powers or not, you still had to do paperwork like anybody else suffering on earth. You said before pushing his face away. That had him intrigued now. How did you even plan to kick his ass, he knew you were just talking shit but now he wanted to see it. So, he kept bothering you.

Whether it was poking at your face, leaping in front of your computer, or making annoying noises in your ear. He saw your eyebrow twitching more and more as you were losing patience. He wanted you to try and fight em. So he kept going.

You finally sprung up—you had had enough of his shit.

“One last chance, go away, Mark” you said squinting your eyes at him trying to seem as serious as you could.

“Not a chance, babe.” He said with a smug grin on his face holding out his arms. He was basically mocking you—wanting you to “do your worst”

You had leaped onto him like a damn cat knocking both of you on the floor as the tussle began. Now, the hard part began—you actually had to kick his ass…

A smirk flew across his face. He knew you had given in—as you began to roll around on the ground with him and tussle now. You two were like a log going back and forth. One second—you were on top of him. The next second—he was on top of you.

“Cmon babe…you’re really gonna kick my ass?” Mark said with a soft smile trying to get you to fold just from his face. You were on top of him in the moment holding him by his shirt collar as you had paused for a second. You honestly wanted to lean in and give him a little smooch but you had to keep your word and kick his little smug ass. Sadly, that wasn’t working out that well (never was going to) so you had to resort to empty threats.

“Mark! I will literally never ever ever kiss you again if you don’t give up like right now!” You threaten as he doesn’t believe it for a single second. He picked you up tossing you on the bed before leaping right back on top of you. He held you tight this time trying to make sure you didn’t move or win as you squirmed like a fish out of water

He was pecking kisses at your face every few seconds. He wasn’t letting up one bit. You loved how sappy he was, like a little puppy. You honestly almost lost for a second, stopping to stare at him. His brown eyes were like a trap for your heart. However, you had stopped for him wayyy too many times before—if you didn’t finish this paperwork now, it wouldn’t only be overdo (once again) but it’d just pile up again. You had to be a person of your word and kick his ass. He was probably gonna let you win anyway.

“MARK!” “Nuh-uh,” you two were back and forth about who was in charge. You sighed using your powers to your advantage just as he was, you were forcing his body to stay on the bed while you finished working. Mark knew he could’ve fought back or pulled through, but he let you have this little win.

“Lemme up-“ mark asked trying his best to annoy you so you’d give in

“No” you weren’t buying his shit for a second not letting up one bit

“Lemme up-“ mark continued the cycle the entire time you worked…he was trying his hardest to be insufferable

You two were just back and forth the entire time you finished your paperwork. Eventually, you were finished freeing him from the hold your powers had on him at the moment. You stood in front of him with crossed arms. “Kicked your ass and finished my paperwork.”

He just rolled his eyes before leaping on you again as the cycle of endless tussling began right back up again. He had let you win the first time since he didn’t even attempt to fight back against your powers. But this time…he’d redeem himself and win. You let him do exactly that—melting into his kisses like butter. He held you tight against his chest as if he never wanted to let go. You’d be a little asshole just like he was earlier.

“Lemme go,” you asked sarcastically

“Nope,” Mark said with absolute seriousness in his voice

“Lemme-“

“Nope”

The back and forth began once again.

Silence filled the room are you two were absolutely content with each other. You were in his hold and he had you held near and dear. It then hit you in the face that Mark mentioned something about the correlation of powers and paperwork. How he said “the two had nothing to do with each other so why’d you have to do paperwork for it 🤓”

“Mark…” you said softly waiting for his response

“Yes babe?” He was all ears for what you had to say to him.

“Have you been doing the paperwork that Cecil has been giving us—or should I say you?”

Silence filled the air…he wasn’t doing any paper work what so ever…

“Get your ass up and do that paperwork…” you said gently but your face was honestly so stern it had him tense up for a second

“Yes ma’am” he said as he placed a kiss on your head before moving over to the desk to begin his paperwork. He had a shitload to get started on and you’d make sure he finished every little bit before you two had fun again.

He was stubborn and so were you—a match made in (hell) heaven.

a/n: (ik for a fact he would duck and dodge every bit of paperwork he’d have to do…😭)

[yikesmary]

options — choi seungcheol x reader

summary: where cheol tries his best to make sure your pregnancy cravings are satisfied—by buying what seems to be the whole convenience store

notes: this can be seen as a pt. 2 to this one shot I wrote back in June of last year (I did not know it's been that long since that has been posted wtf), but it can also be seen as a standalone. I got a burst of inspiration suddenly, so enjoy the one shot! <3

disclaimer: I am not pregnant, so whatever I write about pregnancy is through pure guessing, and also, if I decide to google it! so yeah :)

masterlist

"Did you leave any food for the other customers who might want to eat tonight?" you asked in amusement, watching Seungcheol put what seemed like the fifth plastic bag filled with food from the convenience store onto the table.

"Well, you kept on texting me things the baby might want, so I decided to get everything you've been craving and maybe some things that might work," Seungcheol explained, a bit out of breath from how many times he had to go back and forth.

"Baby, don't you think this is a bit too much? I don't even think baby girl will want a fourth of these," you said, rubbing your pregnant belly.

Ever since you and Seungcheol found out you were pregnant, he had become an even more attentive husband, if possible. He had insisted that you were not allowed to lift a single finger throughout your pregnancy, saying that you shouldn't get tired.

You had to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night? He would wake up the second you called his name, helping you from the bed and waiting outside the bathroom to make sure you didn't fall in or something (it had happened once, and Seungcheol was both worried and amused at the time). You were hungry? Seungcheol was already ordering something from a food delivery app or cooking one of the doctor-approved dishes that he taught himself to make.

He also made sure all of your pregnancy cravings were satisfied, which was why you've found yourself with what must've been the entire convenience store stock in your home. "So where do we start?" you asked, watching as he brought out a ton of different food out of the bags—chips, samgak (and regular) kimbap, ramen packs, and even ice cream from the bags.

"We should probably see if baby wants the already made food, and the ice cream can be a dessert?" He suggested, but you were already eyeing up your favorite ice cream from even before you got pregnant.

Seungcheol saw that you were looking at the ice cream and without fail, gave it to you before going to the freezer in order to put the rest in so they don't melt. "Thank you," you grinned, a mouthful of ice cream, which made him shake his head in endearment.

"Here, smell this," he said, giving you an open bag of chips.

You looked at him weirdly, yet smelled it. "It smells... like chips?" you said and smelt it one more time just to be sure.

"Does the baby want this?" He asked.

"Oh, not really," you shook your head, and he closed up the chip bag and proceeded to grab another bag, presumably to do the same.

"This one?" Seungcheol asked, giving you what looked like the last item, which was a cup tteokbokki.

"Oh, yeah!" You excitedly said.

"Really?!"

"No, I just wanted to make you happy, but the baby's really not liking it," you sighed.

Seungcheol sighed, which made you feel guiltier, as he had bought all of this food, and it was nothing you were currently craving. "I'm so sorry, Cheol. Maybe I can eat something—" you were saying as you were picking up a package of sweet bread, but quickly dropped it once the smell hit your nose.

"No, you shouldn't have to force yourself to eat if you don't like it. It's not your fault our daughter might just be the pickiest eater ever. I'll just bring all of this to practice tomorrow and the guys can eat all of it," Seunghceol shrugged.

You still felt guilty, which he must've seen by the look on your face, which prompted him to grab you gently so he could give you a hug. "Maybe there's something in the fridge?" He suggested, holding your hand and using his thumb to caress the back of your hand.

You thought about it for a moment before releasing Seungcheol's hand, to which he pouted when you did and walked towards the refrigerator. You looked through the fridge, but nothing caught your eye.

Until a bright orange Tupperware lid caught your attention and you grabbed it. Once you opened it, you looked at Seungcheol sheepishly. "I found something to eat.." you said.

Seungcheol stood up walked over to you and looked at the Tupperware. "Isn't this the japchae Mingyu and Jun made?" he asked, and you nodded.

"I guess I'm gonna have to ask them to make you japchae every time you crave it. Or learn it myself,"

taglist: taglist: @belladaises @winterpaos @minhui896 @baekhyunimochibbh @x-alightinthedark @whywontyousetfree @coffeesandrains @slaveofmydreams @bmkgemz @dandycharmer @outrologist @stagefrjghts @dahliatopia @exo-saranghajaaa @uhlatcha @watermelon-sugars-things @miniminimingi @venzline @withloveyjh @lockburn-castle @userjunhuii @mypsychicpizzaworld @violetvoo @maevadobreva @soonyoungblr @baekhyunstruly @ryusol @dunixxd @minhwa @ovai @scorpiobitch88 @icyminghao @cookiehaos @duskunt1ldawn

[h0neylevi]

“Shit shit shit shit shit—“

The sound of your hurried footsteps follow the string of curses as they travel like an echo down the hall, but Levi doesn’t so much as look up from the kitchen sink.

He had tried to get you up earlier, tempting you with the promise of freshly brewed coffee and a hot breakfast, but you insisted on five more minutes. Then inevitably, five more turned into ten which turned into fifteen, and now you’re rushing to get ready and out the door on time for work.

Now he’s had to improvise–turning your breakfast into something portable you can eat on the drive. It’s a skill he’s had to perfect over the years of living with you. To say that time management wasn’t your strong suit would be an understatement. So, Levi moves on to packing your lunch, listening with a small grin at the sound of the tap of your toothbrush against the bathroom sink, followed by clothes hangers being slid back and forth in the closet as you rush to find something suitable to wear to work.

“Have you seen my black turtleneck?”

“In the dryer.”

He schools his expression into something more mild when you finally round the corner a few minutes later, knowing that you’re already stressed about being late. Smiling at you in an I told you so kind of way would only sour your mood further.

“I slept right through my alarm,” you say.

All five of them, plus his gentle prodding to get you out of bed. He doubts you were even conscious enough to remember him trying.

Your eyes flit to the coffee pot to find a travel mug already filled and waiting for you, right next to a neatly assembled wrap that you can only guess is your breakfast. Your expression visibly softens at the sweet gesture.

“Your lunch is packed too,” Levi says, motioning to the insulated lunch bag sitting on the opposite counter.

Even though you’re pressed for time, you step forward to embrace him.

“Thank you, Levi,” you say into his shirt. “You’re a lifesaver.”

His arms wrap easily around you, but there’s lighthearted reproach in his words when he says, “You say that like I don’t have to do this every other day.”

“Well, if you hadn’t kept me up so late last night, I wouldn’t be rushing.”

He shoves you away then, not forceful enough to indicate you’ve said anything to upset him, but you can tell that the mention of the night before has provoked him by the subtle shade of pink that spreads across his cheeks.

He clicks his tongue. “Pervert.”

You lean back a little, still lightly clinging to his waist with a grin. “You’re weren’t saying that last night when my lips were wrapped around your—“

Levi’s palm claps over your mouth before you can finish your sentence, but it does very little to muffle the sound of your laughter that follows.

He leans into you a little, his other hand anchored to your waist to keep you close. “You’re going to be late.”

Deciding he’s endured enough for one morning, you pull away and go to gather your breakfast. “Yeah, yeah.”

You carry it into the next room and Levi quietly follows, your lunch bag in one hand and travel mug in the other.

“I’ll stop by the store tonight,” you say as you gather your coat by the door. “I saw this really good recipe last night that I’d like to try for dinner.”

Levi simply nods. Dinners are usually your preferred meal to cook, so he’s not surprised you already have something planned. “Sure.”

When you get your coat on, he hands you your things, then finishes off with a quick kiss.

After years spent co-existing together in your apartment—sharing everything from body wash to toothpaste and clothes—you would think that having his lips on yours wouldn’t still elicit such a strong feeling, but it does. It’s a wild and frenzied sensation, forming in the pit of your stomach before it swoops like a flurry up into your ribcage.

You linger by the door, starting to regret not getting up earlier so you could see him a little longer. “Thank you for getting my things ready.”

Levi nods again. “You’re welcome.”

When he leans against the doorframe, you take the moment to press another kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

A mixture of minty toothpaste and the familiar scent of your perfume swirls in the few inches between your bodies, and Levi has to take considerable effort to not lean in again.

“You’re going to be late,” he reminds you for what feels like the nth time.

But despite that, your feet stay planted in the doorway. “Say it back and I’ll go.”

“I love you too.” He rolls his eyes, but relents just the slightest bit and kisses you again. “Now, go.”

[flieslikeamoron]

I wish you would write a fic where Steve hangs out with Uncle Wayne.

Sorry, anon. This is so late you probably forgot you asked for it. I hope you see it and it’s sort of what you wanted. Around 2.5K. Rated M (for the steddie bits not the Wayne bits.)

--*--

Steve has always been good at meeting the parents. He’s polite. He wears the right clothes. He never forgets to say “sir.” He notices what needs complimenting. Did a mom spend a lot of time on her hair? Is the food homemade? Is the yard especially well kept? Are they proud of their car, their dog, their daughter? You can tell a lot about what’s important to people if you pay attention, so Steve pays attention. And he gives a compliment where it’s wanted. Nancy used to call him a suck up, but it works. Parents like it. They like him. 

Wayne’s different though. Steve tries all his old moves. Calls Wayne sir, and Wayne waves it off. Brings food that Wayne says he can’t stay to eat. He compliments the hat collection on Wayne’s walls, but Wayne seems so unimpressed it kind of puts him off from trying again. Maybe he’s doing something wrong. Or maybe Wayne just hates him. 

“Why does your uncle hate me?” Steve asks Eddie when Wayne’s out fishing one Saturday. Ever since Wayne got switched to days for the summer, Steve doesn’t get to spend as much time in Eddie’s bed. He snuggles deeper into the sheets, moving his legs against the worn cotton, his cheek against the pillow. Twisting a bit of Eddie’s hair around his finger. 

Eddie looks over, offering Steve the joint in his hand. “He doesn’t hate you.”

“You give it to me.” Steve realizes too late that doesn’t make sense because Eddie’s already holding it out to him. But he gets what Steve means. There’s a lazy smile on his face as he takes a long drag and holds it, leans past Steve to set the joint in the ashtray beside the bed. Steve’s fingers slide along his arm as he reaches, touch down on his ribs, the heat of his skin perfect under Steve’s hands. He cups Steve’s neck, lips almost touching while he breathes the smoke into Steve’s mouth. He seals their lips together at the end. Steve holds the smoke until his lungs burn, and then lets it slowly out through his nose. Eddie deepens the kiss, chases the last of the smoke with his tongue. He kisses Steve again, slow and thorough. His hand warm on Steve’s throat, his thumb against Steve’s jaw. 

When he lies back down beside Steve, Steve runs his fingers across Eddie’s chest. Stopping to feel the slightly pebbled top of his nipple. He runs his thumb over it, back and forth, pressing. Fascinated by the abrupt solid texture of the little nub, the way it interupts the smooth stretch of Eddie’s chest. He runs his fingers over the sparse wiriness of the hairs around it. Eddie is his favorite thing to touch. He’s touched him so much. Must have touched every inch of him by now. But it still feels like he’s always finding the new edge of a scar here or a mole he hadn’t noticed there. Eddie makes a small noise in the back of his throat as Steve scrapes his fingernail over his nipple. Steve looks up. Sees Eddie looking back at him. That soft I love you look on his face. It makes Steve’s chest ache. Makes him feel so swollen up inside he has to fill his mouth with Eddie’s skin, bite down on his chest.

Eddie ruffles fingers through Steve’s hair, arching a bit into Steve’s teeth. When Steve lets go, he runs his fingers over his own toothmarks. The indents in Eddie’s skin drawing up something smug from deep inside him. Like looking at the tattoo Eddie got for him. He likes leaving marks. He likes having proof. That Eddie loves him. Not like Wayne. “He acts like he hates me.”

“Who does?” Eddie says vaguely. 

“Wayne.”

Eddie shakes his head, his fingers running through Steve’s hair, dragging along his scalp. “That’s just his way. He takes a while to warm up.” He grins and gives Steve’s hair a tug. “It runs in the family.” 

“Well, I can’t exactly win him over the same way I did with you.”

“I would rather he not know how good you are at fucking,” Eddie agrees.

“Gross. I meant I can’t buy weed from him.”

Eddie laughs and lays a kiss on the tip of Steve’s wrinkled nose. “Just give it some time.” A kiss to the edge of Steve’s eyebrow. “I’m telling you, no one can resist this face.” He’s still giving Steve that look. So so soft. “And he’s so good with his hands.” He presses a kiss to the side of Steve’s chin. “Such a hard worker.” A kiss to Steve’s mouth. “Such a sweet boy.” Steve circles his arms around Eddie’s waist and lets himself be kissed. A compliment breathed into his skin, his mouth with every one. 

-*-

Whatever Eddie says, winning Wayne over seems like a lost cause, so Steve keeps his head down. Tries his best not to look at Eddie too much when Wayne’s around, look at him like more than a friend. Tries not to say too much. Tries not to do anything that’ll make Wayne want to kick him out of the trailer.

He almost passes by when he pulls up on a Sunday and finds Wayne jacking up his truck. But Steve’s noticed the way he winces, slow to get up from his easy chair sometimes. That fold up bed can’t be good for his back. Or the long hours at the plant.

“Need any help?” Steve asks, coming over.

Wayne gives him a sideways glance as he stands up. “You know anything about cars?” He says it like he thinks Steve doesn’t know much about anything.

“I took autoshop,” Steve says, a little defensively. “I do all the maintenance on the Beemer.” He can see the flicker of something in Wayne’s eyes when he says Beemer, but hell, it’s not his fault he has a nice car. He’s not going to apologize for that. He makes the payments himself. 

“It’s nothing major,” Wayne says. “Just going to change the transmission fluid. Go on. Eddie’s inside.”

Steve could take the out. But Wayne’s going to have to get under the truck to drain the fluid. And he has a bad back. “I can help,” Steve says. He doesn’t mention the back thing in case Wayne is sensitive about it. 

Wayne gets a stubborn look on his face. Looks a lot like Eddie, actually. Steve thinks he’s going to tell him to get lost. But he cocks his head, and lets out a breath. He hands Steve a wrench and a pan, and gives him a nod.

Wayne’s not a big talker. He stops giving Steve instructions when he figures out Steve does know what he’s doing. Has actually done this before. He doesn’t bother to fill the silence with anything else. When Steve wiggles back out from under the truck, they pop the hood together. Steve watches Wayne put the new fluid in.

“Belt could use replacing,” Steve says tentatively, hoping Wayne won’t take it the wrong way.

“It’ll hold a while,” Wayne says. He doesn’t sound offended though.

“Well,” Steve says awkwardly. “Looks like you’ve got it from here.”

“Thanks for your help, son.” 

“Anytime,” Steve says, and means it.

It’s easier after that. It’s not like they talk a lot more or anything, but the silence feels different. 

Wayne gets home from work one evening just as Steve’s driving up after a shift at the mall. Eddie’s van isn’t outside, and Steve’s never really been around Wayne without a buffer. He can’t just leave now though. They come up the stairs together. The screen door doesn’t squeak when Wayne pulls it open. 

“That was you,” he says, looking down at the freshly oiled hinge.

“Could have been Eddie.”

Wayne scoffs. “Eddie’s a great kid, but he’s too busy thinking about those elves or hearing music in his head to notice if the laundry needs doing or the door squeaks.”

That’s about right. Steve waves it away with his hand. “Details. He’s good at the important stuff.” Steve smiles, trying not to look like he thinks about Eddie or what he’s good at more than a normal friend would. 

“Been meaning to get around to it myself,” Wayne says. 

“It was just WD-40.” 

Wayne tilts his head noncommitally. “You want some dinner?”

Steve hopes he’s not smiling more than a person who knows dinner isn’t that big a deal would. It’s kind of a big deal though.

“My nephew thinks a lot of you,” Wayne says, while Steve hovers in the kitchen, trying not to get in the way.

“I think a lot of him too.” 

Wayne sort of hums to himself, and looks at Steve like he finally complimented the right thing. 

-*-

Eddie hates baseball just like he hates basketball and football and anything else involving balls unless they’re Steve’s balls and they’re in Eddie’s mouth. Which is something he actually said to Steve once. But he’s still sitting through this Reds game with Steve and Wayne. Steve brought the fried chicken. Wayne brought the beer. Eddie brought half a pie from the diner and a few new stories from his job bartending over at the Hideout. He’s telling them in snippets during the commercial breaks, acting them out like he’s the show the baseball game is interrupting. He makes them funnier than they probably were at the time, rubber faces and fake voices like when he’s playing D&D. Steve hopes he doesn’t look more fond than a regular friend would be. Wayne looks pretty fond too though, that smile basically the equivalent of a laugh for him.

He finally does laugh out loud, waving Eddie away from his spot in front of the TV. “All right, all right, fucking sit down. We just missed a double. And I know you made that shit about the raccoon up.”

“Hand to God that happened.” Eddie flops down on the couch next to Steve. “He had it on his shoulder. He ordered it a beer in a shot glass.” He nudges Steve in the side. “You believe me, right?”

Steve isn’t sure if he does, but- “I’ve seen weirder.”

“Pray tell,” Eddie says. 

Steve can’t exactly talk about Dustin feeding a demodog candy. He changes the subject. “They look better this season.”

“Not that much better,” Wayne says skeptically.

“Why do you guys even bother watching a bad team play a boring game?” Eddie asks.

Wayne just shrugs a shoulder. “I’ve always had a soft spot for an underdog.”

_*_

Steve’s in Eddie’s bed a couple weeks later. Eddie overlapping him, with his face nuzzled into Steve’s neck, his spent cock nestled against Steve’s thigh. He’s mouthing idly at Steve’s moles, letting Steve drag fingers through his hair, untangle the tangles. It still feels like a gift to be able to touch Eddie like this. Hold him against Steve’s chest. Play with his hair or the rings on his fingers. See him soft and unguarded and looking at Steve like there’s nowhere he’d rather be. But Steve’s learning not to be surprised that he gets to have this. That Eddie wants him to have it. That Eddie wants it too.

“I missed you,” Eddie says. His fingers stroke over Steve’s hole, pressing against the sore heat of his rim.

Steve’s cheeks go warm. “You see me almost every day.”

“I know, but I don’t get to fuck you every time I see you.” Steve rolls his eyes. Eddie tucks two fingers inside him, making Steve’s mouth fall open on a gasp. He sets his chin on Steve’s chest, looking up innocently through his bangs. “Can you come over Friday? Wayne has his bowling league, and I want to make you come until you cry.”

Steve still doesn’t really know why Eddie talking about him like that makes a spike of heat go straight to his dick, but he’s learning not to be surprised by that either. Eddie presses his fingers deeper inside. Steve clenches, a sharp “Ah” knocked out of him as Eddie nudges against his prostate. “I actually-” Eddie does it against, presses in right where it makes Steve ache. He trembles a little, forcing himself to keep talking. “I actually told Wayne I would go with him. To his league.” 

“What?” Eddie’s brow furrows. “Can’t you cancel?”

Steve looks at him disapprovingly. “I’m not gonna cancel on him.” Eddie gives one more push against Steve’s prostate, almost vindictive, before he pulls his fingers out. “And don’t you have Hellfire?” 

“Gareth and Jeff are both out of town. Vacation.” Eddie’s pouting in a way Steve would find hilarious if he wasn’t trying to sabotage all Steve’s hard earned progress with Wayne.

“Come on. He’s barely started liking me.”

“Exactly,” Eddie says. “I’ve liked you so much longer. I should get first dibs.”

Steve laughs. Eddie scowls at him. 

“You’re being an asshole,” Steve points out. 

“I just think it’s a little weird how much you’re hanging out with him now,” Eddie says. “And why did he ask you to join his bowling league?”

“I don’t know if I’d call it hanging out,” Steve says. “Mostly I’ve been helping him patch the roof. You’re welcome by the way. The leak was in your room. And he asked me because I’m really fucking good at bowling.”

“Of course you are,” Eddie says. “Fucking perfect son. I bet dads try to pick you up at the grocery store to take you fishing or play catch.” Steve thinks about his own dad. How Steve’s started changing into his Scoops uniform after he gets to the mall so he doesn’t have to see his dad trying not to look at him. Not really trying to hide the disdain. “Sorry, sweetheart,” Eddie says, all the sharp edges falling from his voice. 

Steve tries to wipe whatever Eddie’s seeing on his face away. 

“You were right. I’m an asshole.”  Eddie cups his cheek, runs his thumb across Steve’s lips. He lays a quick kiss on Steve’s mouth. “Will you forgive me if I share Wayne with you?” He offers his hand like they’re going to shake on it, then takes it back. “You just have to promise not to start liking him better than me.” He points mock threateningly at Steve to make it a joke, but Steve can tell there’s a little bit of something true underneath. “And promise not to make him start liking you more than he likes me either.” 

“That would never happen."

“I don’t know. You guys have a lot in common.”

“Mostly the thing we have in common is we’re both pretty big fans of you.” Steve shakes Eddie’s hand. And kisses him right in the middle of his wide grin. Catching more teeth than anything until Eddie scoots up, tilts his head to give Steve a better angle. Steve makes it a real kiss, lingering in the familiar curve of Eddie's lips. When he pulls back far enough to breath, he tilts his forehead against Eddie’s. “I love you the most of any Munson.”

“You only know two Munsons,” Eddie says. “But I’ll take it.”

“I love you the most,” Steve says, smiling.

“Good,” Eddie says. “That makes us even.” And kisses him again.

[covenofagatha]

I went to a new doctor today for the first time... And the (very hot) doctor said "good girl" under her breath when I followed her instructions during part of the physical exam and I nearly died. Is that anything? Doctor!Agatha? Also not sure if I can ever show my face at that doctor's office again.

Good luck the next time you go lol

Hands-on care

You and your boyfriend want to have a baby so you go see Doctor Agatha Harkness at her fertility clinic

Word count: 2500

Warnings: sex, fingering, oral, Agatha is very unethical, cheating, degradation, praise

The decision to have a baby with your boyfriend Matthew was a decision that you made on sort of an impulse. 

You’ve been dating for three years now, after he begged you to go out with him for all of college, and you’ve always wanted a baby. 

You two had talked about it, going back and forth about what that would look like, if you would get married, if you two look to buy a house instead of your one bedroom apartment. 

Matt kept saying the fact that you both couldn’t decide on the little things like that, then it meant you weren’t ready for a baby. So you had put off further discussion about it until one night, you got really drunk. 

Four shots of vodka and no food had you on a different planet, and you had apparently told Matt that you wanted him to put a baby in you that night. 

He didn’t, because you were hammered, but it opened up the door to a heavy conversation the next day and you both decided that you wanted to start trying. 

The Harkness Fertility Clinic seemed like the obvious choice of where to check your fertility and get options, just to make sure nothing was wrong. Everyone in town knew Doctor Agatha Harkness and her extraordinary work when it came to all things pregnancy.

So you booked an appointment and here you are now, staring into space while fiddling with the edge of the hospital gown that the nurse practitioner gave you to put on while you wait for the doctor. 

“You alright?” Matt asks quietly, his brows crinkled. You told him that you would be fine if he didn’t want to come, in case there was bad news, but he insisted. 

You nod and drop the gown. “Just a bit nervous,” you say and he reaches over to squeeze your hand. 

And then there’s a knock on the door and Doctor Harkness walks in, wearing blood-red scrubs and her dark hair tied into a neat bun. 

You didn’t realize how attractive she would be. 

“Hello, how are we today?” She picks up the clipboard from the table next to you and scans it. “It looks like you’re here for a standard fertility check. That will be quick and easy and we’ll have those results in no time.”

It’s hard to breathe with her blue eyes burning through you, but you manage to smile. “Okay, great, we just want to make sure that we won’t have any problems or anything.” Can she tell how hot your cheeks feel? 

She smiles back at you. Hasn’t even looked at Matt yet. “Well, we’re here to make that happen for you.” She launches into an explanation of how the test will happen, something with a speculum, but you are too busy staring at her to fully listen. “Do you have any questions?”

It takes you a moment to realize she’s done talking. “Oh, no, I don’t think so. Thank you,” you stammer and she smirks knowingly.

“Thank you,” Matt says again, causing Agatha to look at him for the first time. Her lips curl and she turns to him with a rather unpleasant look.

“Husband? Why don’t you wait outside while we do this.” It’s not a question, and he blinks at her. He glances at you, like he’s expecting you to tell him to stay, but all you do is shrug. Better to let Agatha do her thing however she wants.

He sighs and kisses your forehead. "I'll be right out there," he vows and you give him a tight smile.

She moves close to you, perches on the side of the recliner you’re sitting on and reaches her hand toward you. You instinctively flinch but relax when all she does is tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. It’s incredibly gentle.

Agatha then trails her hand down the side of your face and grabs your chin, perhaps a little roughly. You let out a gasp that she seems to enjoy too much, and she strokes a finger over your lips. It’s all you can do to not take her thumb into your mouth and suck, and judging by the delighted look on her face, she sees how hard you’re restraining.

It’s so inappropriate. It’s so hot.

“I’ll put a baby in you,” she whispers. Your heart skips a beat. You know she just means fertility-wise you’ll have a baby, but the way she says it makes you wish she was capable of that. “Lie back.” She taps your shoulder and moves to situate herself on a chair by your legs. You spread them hesitantly and put them in the stirrups, knowing your underwear is already wet, just from being this close to her.

The chair rolls to the end of the cot so she's in between your legs now. You turn red again when her eyes drop to you, and she gets a look at what you’re sure is now soaked-through white cotton. Your stomach flutters when she bites her lip, and she meets your gaze with heavy lids.

“Oh, darling,” she says quietly, and you feel her hands moving up your inner thighs and a finger traces up your slit. You can hear the mocking tone in her voice but your hips buck ever so slightly. “I don’t think I’ll need to lube up the speculum with how wet you are.” It’s so wrong and she says it so casually and you didn’t think it was possible to get wetter. But you do, and you know she can tell.

“I’m sorry–” you try to stutter, the humiliation only making the fire inside your stomach grow.

You can practically hear the smirk in her voice. “I’m flattered, really,” she purrs. You wonder if this happens to her a lot; you definitely wouldn’t be surprised. But surely she wouldn’t still be in business if she flirted with all the patients.

She takes hold of your underwear and drags the pair down your legs, helping your feet out of the stirrups one at a time so she can slip them off. She chuckles and you blush harder than you ever have.

Fuck.

How are you going to survive this?

“Alright, are you ready?” You feel her press the cold speculum against your entrance and you hiss.

“Yes,” you squeak. Back to business. She is a doctor, she is Agatha Harkness. She is a tease, but that is all. You need to calm down.

She eases an inch of the speculum in and you grimace. The stretch burns. It would seem that you are not wet enough.

Agatha holds it still to give you time to adjust. “Relax. You need to relax,” she tells you.

“Easier said than done,” you joke with another wince. And then you feel her finger swipe your clit and you clench around the speculum with a spasm. Just a coincidence? 

“Is your husband not doing anything for you at all? Is his dick really that small? I think I might have to stretch you out first,” she remarks like she’s talking about the weather. You’re not exactly sure what she means but your stomach twists. The speculum is removed and placed on the table next to you. She pulls her gloves off.

“He’s not my husband,” is the only thing you have the effort to correct when she slides her middle finger into you. You let out a shaky breath. Agatha bites her lip, eyes dark.

She slowly thrusts into you, her thumb rubbing your clit every once in a while. You don’t remember the last time you’ve felt this good and she’s barely doing anything. She pushes another finger in and you moan loudly.

“Better quiet down so he doesn’t hear. Not like he’d know what these sounds are,” she muses, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. You’re so close, just from her moving her two fingers inside you slowly.

“Please.” It’s all you can say.

You whine pathetically when her fingers pull out and she sits back, hair mussed, a crazed look on her face. She sucks her finger into her mouth, she moans softly, and you almost cum right there at the sight. 

“You’re so deliciously perfect,” she tells you, and grins while you clench around nothing at the praise.

“Please,” you beg again. “I’m so close, I need you.”

“What do you need?” 

You've never been one to voice your thoughts, especially in bed, but Agatha has a way of pulling it out of you. “Please, I need you so badly. Please make me cum. I need you.” You realize maybe being vocal wouldn’t be such a bad thing for you to do every once in a while, if it’s going to lead to her leaning down and dragging her tongue up your slit, flicking it against your clit. You gasp and your hands tangle themselves in the loose hair from her bun immediately to keep her there.

You can feel her chuckle against you and the echoes only increase your pleasure. Two fingers enter you again, but this time, she curls them fast, and the palm of her hand hits your clit with every thrust. She mouths at your inner thigh before biting and sucking. Marking you. You throb at the thought of the red marks that will litter your legs.

“Oh, fuck,” you groan.

You won’t be able to be naked in front of Matt for a long time.

“God, you’re such a perfect little slut, dripping all over this chair for me,” Agatha comments. “I bet you were wet the moment I walked in. Wanting me to taste you. Wanting me to fuck you like the whore you are.”

You should feel ashamed of how nothing she said was wrong, but you couldn't care less. Part of you is wondering if this is standard protocol for all the women who have trouble with the speculum, or if it’s just you. 

“Dr. Harkness,” you moan and gently tug on her hair. You shouldn’t really be concerned with professionality at this point, what with her head buried between your legs and her fingers inside you and everything, but the title and the hair pull seem to have quite the effect on her. She groans into you and then the real fucking begins.

Her fingers thrust ruthlessly inside you and her tongue thrashes against your clit and you feel like you’ve died and gone to heaven.

“Dr. Harkness, fuck, please, need more, need you,” you babble, feeling yourself steadily approaching the edge. 

She pauses for a moment to fit a third finger inside you. The stretch is a little uncomfortable and she gives you a second to adjust, and then she’s back to it.

You come with a moan and it’s the best orgasm you’ve ever had by far. From the look on her face when she sits back, finally done fucking you through your climax, she knows it.

Her lips glisten with your wetness, but she makes no move to clean them.

“You’re so beautiful when you’re cumming all over my exam chair,” she says, and it takes all of your energy to not laugh at the absurdity of the statement. What did you just do? “Do you think you’re ready for the speculum?”

You’ve completely forgotten why you’re here, but you nod, and she is gentle when she pushes the cold metal in you for a second time. You’re a little sensitive from your orgasm, but it slides in much easier this time. Your walls flutter around it and you almost moan.

"Good girl," she says in a deep voice.

Before you can tell yourself how wrong it is, you hope that next time she uses a strap-on. Next time? No, there can’t be a next time. You know she would make it feel really good though. She fucked you better with her fingers than Matt has in his entire life, so imagine what she could do with a toy cock.

But Agatha meets your eyes and winks and you can tell she’s thinking the same thing.

She tuts with a hint of a smirk, and you flush red again. You know this won’t be the last time the two of you do this, and there isn’t a single part of you that’s upset about it. 

The rest of the check runs quickly and smoothly, and she goes outside to tell Matt he can come back in. 

You’re worried he can smell the stench of sex in the air or that he will notice the slight sheen around Agatha’s mouth and her mussed-up hair, but if he does, there’s no indication.

Figures.

“Your uterus is extraordinary, perfectly shaped for a baby,” Agatha says, voice dripping with sweet venom, pointing to the pictures to show you what she means. “There should be no problems, but you might want to come in here regularly just in case.” Her hand falls to your upper thigh and squeezes. She watches you bite your lip with a smirk.

“I think that’s a good idea,” you agree, and Matt hums. “Thank you so much for your help, it was so great meeting you. 

“Oh, believe me, the pleasure was all mine,” Agatha says smugly, dragging her hand slowly against her mouth, breathing your scent in. You choke on nothing. 

Matt turns toward you, the happiness evident on his face. “We’re going to have a baby!” He exclaims and you wish you felt just a little bit guilty about what you just did. 

“Alright. Well, I’ll let you get dressed and then I’ll see you next time. Have a wonderful day.” Agatha gives you one last wink and leaves. You and Matt quickly pack your things and you change back into your normal clothes, leaving the gown that smells like sex on the chair. There’s going to need to be some serious sanitation of this room.

Matt is clearly ecstatic about the good news, but you’re honestly dreading the thought of having sex with him after that. Plus you have those marks on your thighs. You inwardly curse Agatha and you make a mental note to try and get some concealer or something to hide it. You’re not sure how well you’ll be able to put off sleeping with your boyfriend, especially not now. 

As you’re walking towards the sliding front doors of the building, you hear your name called. It’s Dr. Harkness, standing on the stairwell that overlooks the lobby. Her bun is fixed now, not a hair out of place, and the wetness around her chin has been wiped off. But there’s no denying the dark look in her eyes.

She gives you a wave. “We’ll have that baby in you in no time.” 

You have no doubt. 

[aphroditesmoon]

Heyy I love your Clarisse work!!! Can I get a Clarisse being protective over fem reader when Percy Jackson arrives and he tries to talk to us? Thank you!!!!

back to you

clarisse la rue x fem!demigod!reader

warnings: ep2 spoilers, protective clarisse, kissing.

a/n: thank you for reading n enjoying my clarisse fic! I hope this is to ur liking<3

wc: 1.7k

---

The new kid was lost. That much was easy to tell. He had been clamied as Poseidon's son, and yet no one had the thought of actually directing him to his new cabin.

You've been watching him from the corner of your eyes as you help fix your cabin siblings' stance for a spar. He's been walking back and forth in circles like an abandoned kitten. It was honestly amusing to watch.

It was about 2 minutes later when you hear his footsteps nearing you and turned ariund to meet the boy's face. "Hey." He greeted breathily like he's been running a marathon.

"Fish boy." You responded, making him frown. "Um, I'm actually- never mind, I was wondering if you uh, know where the Poseidon cabin is?" You cross your arms and studied the confusion on his face. "Did Chiron not show you?"

"He did, I just, forgot?" Of course he did. "I'll show you, come on." You walk past him to where his cabin is at, the whole map of this camp is engraved in your mind.

"It's really not that far." You tell him as you kept moving. You had to slow down a bit when you remember he's carrying his bags with him.

Percy Jackson looks less threatening to you now than he did before. It's almosf hard to believe that this is the same kid who destroyed a minotaur and broke Clarisse's spear. He was just a boy, and not even a mean or bratty one.

How is it that Mr. D and Chiron both founded it totally fine to let this 12 year old boy live in an empty cabin alone is beyond you, but that's not your problem to think about.

He's quicker on his feet than you expected and asked questions less stupid that others have.

"There shouldn't be a curfew if I'm the only one here, right?" He ask as he drops his bag on the floor by the bed. You watch him from the door, leaning against the frame. "I mean, technically, I'm head of the cabin."

Your brows raised at that. "I don't think that's how it works."

"The curfew is probably the same as any other cabin's curfew, though like you said, it's not like there's anyone else to tell you when to go to bed here." He gets the implication you're making. You weren't going to tell him that he could go around and do as he likes, but he could actually do it if he wanted to. There's not much supervision here.

You turn on the lights from where you're at, the switch button being on the wall by the entrance. The walls of the place were blue and white, it seems more well kept than the other cabins. How disappointing that he wouldn't have anyone to share the space with.

Percy had stood up from his bed to walk over to you to say his thanks when the both of you were interrupted by a familiar voice. He flinched at Clarisse's presence. But you, as surprised as you are, is used to her sneaking up from behind.

"What does this punk want with you?" She questions boldly. You spin around to find her a few steps away from you. Percy physically shivered, walking deeper into the cabin. "I was just asking her for directions." He explained before you could.

She's looking him up and down like predators do to their preys with a demonic glare in her eyes. It's been less than 12 hours since he broke her spear. And losing dessert privileges and her spear wasn't exactly a recipe to making Clarisse happy.

You pat her shoulder with your hand, in which she quickly shrugged off as she steps closer to the cabin, standing next to you and eyeing Percy suspiciously. "You expect me to believe that no one else has shown you the direction here."

"I forgot." He spoke at the same time as you told her, "Clarisse, he forgot."

“Forgot?” Clarisse turns her gaze from him to you and then back to him with a frown. "Well, you've already led him here, haven't you?" You gave her a look that says 'can you not?' She easily ignores your meaning of course, glaring at the boy again.

"Yes, I have. So I'll go now, come on Clarisse." You announced loudly, pulling your girlfriend by her arm to leave Percy alone.

She remains unmoving at first, sizing up Percy, until you tugged at her arm again, calling out her name. “Clarisse, please. Let's just go back to training.” Finally giving in, she lets you drag ger away from the blonde boy. You could almost hear the sigh of relief leave his body.

"Thanks for the help-" you hear the fish boy shout from behind hesitantly.

"Absolute brat." Clarisse mutters under his breath once the two of you are away from him. "He was just asking for help." You felt the need to defend him.

She put her right arm over your shoulder, pulling you closer to her as she scoff at your words. "Great, you're already siding with him after what he's done to me. Really? Are we forgetting that he broke my spear?"

You did chase him around with it like a lunatic, you thought of telling her. But you knew better than to upset her even more.

"I'm always on your side, you know that." You replied gently instead, letting your own arm wrap around her waist as the two of you make it back to the training grounds.

"Good, you're the only one I want on my team, so that better be the last time I see you around him" You smiled at that and leaned closer to her face to place a peck on her cheeks before other people could see you two coming over. "Yes, ma'am." You teased her.

She pulls your face back to hers before you could fullt pull away and kisses you harder, cupping your cheek with her free hand, uncaring of anyone's eyes on you.

[zarameraki]

⁺✩₊📨˚✧ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐝 ⋆｡💵₊✩°

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 he's obsessed to the max 𖥔 ceo x assistant 𖥔 grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 she talks a lot x he listens a lot 𖥔 loved you for so long 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nanami's first time 𖥔 you talk him through it 𖥔 close proximity 𖥔

: ̗̀➛ words: 5.6k

: ̗̀➛ notes: hey all! sorry for the inactivity. im got reality to handle as well. i promise ill be more active soon. the creativity juices are running on low fuel atm. thanks for all the love and support you have have given me. if you enjoy my work, please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy!

Nanami couldn’t focus on the meeting.

He never could when you were in attendance, sitting off to the side, diligently jotting notes. His eyes flicked back and forth from the powerpoint presentation to the strand of hair bothering you despite tucking it behind your ear thirty-seven times.

Yes, he was keeping count. 

His dick constrained against his pants when you bit the end of your pen between your teeth, getting a bit of your red lipstick smeared around the tool. He wished he was that pen, with the mark of your lips on his skin instead. He even wished he was your tea mug sometimes. 

Jesus, something was terribly wrong with him. You were wrong for him. He was your boss; you were his assistant. Your relationship was strictly professional—has been for three years now. Three torturous years of admiring you from the sidelines. Three torturous years of hearing you yap about going on dates with random men off the internet. Three torturous years of chafing his dick in the bathroom every morning, noon, and night to the thought of you. 

Your scent, your breaths, your skin, your hair, your eyes, your mouth—God, he loved your mouth—especially when it moved and produced the loveliest sound he’s ever heard. He wanted nothing more than to print you onto his skin for the rest of his life. 

Nanami scowled at the silver-haired intern who kept side-eyeing your cleavage. If only it weren’t for that bastard. Firing him crossed his mind every time he popped up like a weasel, but Nanami needed a solid reason. 

“—that’s alright with you, Mr. Nanami?” 

Nanami’s attention snapped back to the presenter. What was he speaking about? Budget? Strategies for the future? Increases in revenue? Whatever it was, Nanami had one answer. “Yes.” 

“Lovely, we’ll go ahead with the renovations for our research and development department. They’ll be happy to know their resources are being updated!” 

Ah. Well, either way, he could care less. Whatever made his employees happy, he wasn’t afraid to spend a pretty penny. That’s why Nanami Kento was universally loved by everyone. Even his enemies—if he had any to begin with—would be his allies. He didn’t often put himself on the pedestal, but he does admit every now and then, he was a jack of all trades. 

“That was a satisfying meeting, wasn’t it?” you chirped as you both entered the elevator. Nanami caught sight of the silver-serpent catching up and jabbed the button to close the doors. 

Unfortunately, the intern pushed his hand in between and laughed in an annoying sound he called a voice, sending a twitch in Nanami’s eyes. 

“Oh, Satoru!” you greeted, standing closer to his side. 

“Boss,” Satoru said to Nanami, then turned to you, whispering, “Beautiful,” loud enough for him to hear. 

You snorted, waving a hand. “Oh, stop it. I hope the meeting wasn’t too much for you. Lots of changes we’ve made for the fiscal year, huh?” 

Nanami stared bored at the closed doors with the two behind him. 

“You made it easier,” Satoru replied. 

“Were you copying my notes?” 

“Come on, sweetheart. This is corporate. Not college. A little cheating hurts nobody.” 

Nanami heard your uncomfortable chuckle and clenched his fists tight. The word ‘cheating’ was a trigger for you. Your last relationship ended with your boyfriend of three months sleeping with your friend simply because she had more money and didn’t work for someone. Nanami was sure you’d quit and almost placed an offer to give you a proper role in the company, but you brushed it all off by stating how much you cherished being his assistant. He’d fallen madly, madly in love with you. He knew when he’d make you his wife, you’d be the boss. 

“That’s my floor,” Satoru announced. “Let’s do dinner soon, yeah?” 

You simply nodded. 

“Always a pleasure meeting the man of the hour,” the silver-ass said to Nanami before exiting. 

You stepped up to your boss’ side, sighing. “He just doesn’t know when to give up. It’s almost adorable.” 

“I believe ‘agitating’ is the word you’re looking for.” 

You laughed it off. Nanami didn’t think he was particularly a funny guy until he met you. “Satoru’s harmless.”  

“Will you, though?” he asked, clearing his throat. “Go to dinner with him?” 

You glanced up at Nanami, and smiled. He stared straight ahead with a tight tick in his jaw. Your smile broadened. “I’d love to,” you replied, finding his body tense, “but not with him.” 

Nanami slowly dragged his eyes down to you. Your blinks were slow, weighed down by the thickness of your long lashes. His eyes dipped to your lips, then back to your gaze. “Well, I hope you do with someone. Dinner is an important meal of the day.” 

He was an idiot. 

“That’s surprising coming from you, Mr. Nanami.” 

“How so?” 

You shrugged lightly, eyes twinkling. “I’ve never seen you eat dinner, let alone leave the office around that time.”

Nanami adjusted his tie, feeling a bit self-conscious. He hesitated for a moment, then decided to take the plunge. “Well, maybe we should change that.”

Your eyebrow arched slightly, curiosity piqued. “Change what?”

“Since you’re staying late to catch up on work,” he said, his voice steadying, “how about we have dinner here together?”

You paused, surprise flashing across your face before you smiled warmly. “That sounds nice. I could use a break, and it’s been a long day.”

Relief washed over him, and he allowed himself to smile back. “Great. I’ll order something for us. Any preferences?”

You shook your head, still smiling. “I’m fine with anything, Mr. Nanami.”

“Please, call me Kento,” he said softly.

“All right, Kento,” you replied, your tone gentle. “Thank you.”

As he walked out of the elevator, he felt a sense of accomplishment and, perhaps, excitement—an emotion he’d felt strictly in your presence. It wasn’t a grand romantic gesture, but it was a step in the right direction. Tonight, you were his, even if only for a little while. And maybe, just maybe, he'd find the courage to tell you how he really felt.

As the morning passed, he buried himself in his work, but his mind constantly wandered. Every so often, he'd steal a glance in your direction, watching you as you diligently typed away on your computer or answered phone calls. There was something about the way you moved, the way you smiled even when you were focused, that captivated him completely.

Around mid-morning, Nanami's concentration was broken when a male worker from another department walked over to your desk. He was carrying a file, but instead of simply dropping it off, he started chatting with you. The man was smiling, clearly enjoying the conversation. Nanami's grip on his pen tightened as he watched the interaction unfold.

The male worker leaned casually against your desk, making you laugh at something he said. Nanami's heart pounded in his chest. He hated how easy it was for others to make you smile like that. He felt a pang of jealousy, a possessive urge to step in and assert that you were his . . . though you didn't know it yet.

As the conversation continued, you glanced up and caught Nanami staring. Your eyes met, and you smiled softly at him. He quickly looked away, feeling a rush of embarrassment and anger at himself for being so obvious. His face felt hot, and he cursed under his breath, trying to refocus on his work.

The rest of the day passed in a similar fashion. Nanami found it hard to concentrate, his mind continually drifting back to you. He tried to remind himself that he needed to be professional, but it was a losing battle. Every time he heard your laugh or saw your smile, his heart ached with a mixture of longing and possessiveness.

The evening had grown quiet, with the soft hum of office equipment and the distant sounds of the city outside. When the delivery boy finally arrived, Nanami stood up and walked over to meet him.

“Oh, I’ve got it!” you said, standing from your seat and taking out your credit card.

Nanami tapped his card without a second thought; he’d always be willing to pay for anything when it came to you.

“Sir, this was going to be my treat.”

“Next time,” he replied. 

You smiled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Next time, it is.” 

He led the way to his office, opening the door for you. You set the food out on the table, and for a moment, there was an awkward silence as you both settled onto the sofa.

Nanami cleared his throat. “I hope you like what I ordered. I wasn’t sure what you preferred, so I got a bit of everything.”

You smiled warmly, appreciating his thoughtfulness. “This looks great. Thank you.”

You began eating, the silence stretching between you both. Nanami felt frustrated at himself. You’ve worked for him for three years and he still couldn’t harness the ability of speaking to you casually. He wanted to make conversation, to make this moment more comfortable, but the words seemed to stick in his throat. He glanced at you, watching as you took a bite and then met his gaze.

“This is really good,” you said, breaking the silence. “I didn’t realise how hungry I was.”

He smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. “I’m glad you like it.”

You continued eating, the silence now less awkward and more companionable. Nanami stole glances at you, noting the way you enjoyed the food, the way your eyes sparkled even in the dim office light. 

When the last bites were eaten and the containers cleared away, you leaned back in your chair, looking content. “Thank you for this. It was really nice.”

He smiled softly, his heart full. “Anytime. I’m glad we could do this.”

“About damn time,” you muttered. 

Nanami blinked. 

You sucked in a sharp breath, realizing what slipped your mouth. “Mr. Nanami— I— I only meant that—” You surrendered with a sigh, running your fingers through your hair. “Damn it.” 

Licking his lips, Nanami shook his leg anxiously, wondering what exactly you’d meant. Were you wanting to have dinner with him for a while now? A platonic dinner? Or was it, and he could be entirely wrong, more? Were you perhaps . . . also rowing the same boat as him? 

“I should’ve extended an invitation a while ago,” Nanami whispered.

Your eyes locked with his.

“Three years ago, to be exact,” he continued, awaiting your reaction. “In an intimate sense. Or professional, if that’s what you’d prefer. I’m happy either way. Unless this has made you uncomfortable—”

“Kento.”

He stopped to catch his breath. “Yes?”

You reached out and rested your hand on his knee, your eyes moving from his body to his face. “Next time, like you mentioned, can I treat you to dinner at my place?” The caress of your thumb set him aflame—a tiny gesture, yet powerful. “Unless it makes you uncomfor—”

Nanami cupped the back of your head and pulled you into a feverish kiss. He moaned at the first touch, savoring the sweet taste of you, the smoothness of your lips, and the sweep of your tongue against his. He didn’t dare break the kiss, tugging you out of your chair and onto his firm lap. His mouth was everywhere—your jaw, your neck, your collarbones—as he deftly unbuttoned your blouse. He was a madman, lost in the moment.

“I’ll do it,” you chuckled as he fumbled with the clasp of your bra. “I didn’t peg you for an inexperienced man.”

“I’ve been saving myself for—”

“The right woman?” you snorted.

“For you,” he stated firmly, cupping your cheek. “The last three years have been agonising. Whenever you’re near, I can’t focus. Whenever you laugh, I can’t breathe. Whenever some other bastard tries to flirt with you, my sanity chips away until all I want to do is take you away. Mark you as mine.” His possessiveness sent a shiver down your spine, making your back arch. “That’s exactly what I’ll do tonight. Is that okay with you?”

You bit your bottom lip and nodded. “More than.”

“You always know the right thing to say.” He smiled against your lips, slipping off your bra in the process. Through the kiss, you guided his hand to your breast. Just because he was inexperienced didn’t mean you were. Nanami should know by now that you had a little zest in you. “Like this, darling?”

You sighed as he pinched your nipples, his eyes marvelling at the sight of your breasts. “Yeah. You can put your mouth on them, too.”

His lips latched onto your left nipple swiftly. Your fingers buried themselves in the back of his hair as your hips ground against his erection while he nibbled and sucked on your breasts. He left them sore and bruised, kissing his way up to your collarbones, neck, and finally, your desperate lips.

Nanami picked you up with one arm, using the other to swipe whatever papers were on the table onto the floor.

“There are important contracts in there, Mr. Nanami,” you said as he laid you back onto the mahogany surface. “Don’t expect me to clean it up in the morning.”

“You’re the most important thing right now and always,” he replied, loosening his tie and tossing it over his shoulder. “And you will call me by my first name in private.”

You raised an eyebrow, relishing the sight of him slowly exposing his torso, button by button. “Yes, Kento.”

He sucked in a sharp breath, shrugging off his dress shirt and draping himself over you, his fingers gently closing around your neck as he kissed you deeply. “It must be exhausting walking in a tight skirt all day,” he whispered against your lips, finding the zipper of your pencil skirt and lowering it slowly. “If you want, I can change the dress code for my favourite assistant.”

“I’m your only assistant,” you said, letting him remove your skirt. “And I like my tight skirts, thank you very much.”

“I don’t like how the men stare at your back.”

“Sue me for having a perfect ass.”

He shrugged. “You have my lawyer’s contact number.”

A laugh bubbled out of you, which he immediately stole with another kiss. You locked your arms around his neck. “If wearing tight clothes gets me incentives like this, I’ll do it every day.”

He narrowed his brown eyes. “I can’t control your wardrobe choices.” His fingers trailed down your left breast, making your breath hitch as he grazed your sensitive nipples, then continued down to your stomach and under your panties. “But I have full control over your body tonight, yes?”

You pecked his lips. “Absolutely.” 

Nanami wasn’t quite rubbing your clit—it felt rather ticklish. “You’re making a face. Am I doing something wrong, darling?” 

“Not exactly.” You found his hand between your legs and lifted it higher, pressing his fingers directly onto your clit. It was embarrassing how wet you already were. “Rub here.” 

He rubbed there, and you took in a shuddering breath, nodding to encourage him to keep fucking me with those skilled fingers, Nanami Kento—fingers you had admired far too often, especially when he performed pen tricks with them.

“How many . . . erm, how do I word this?” He looked conflicted as he murmured words to himself. 

“What? I won’t judge.” 

Nanami looked adorable when flushed. “How many fingers would you like . . . inside of you?” 

You pressed your lips together, holding back laughter at his reddened face. This was the first time you'd be taking a man's virginity, and you wanted to make sure it was as good for him as it would be for you. “I can take three.” 

“Wow,” he breathes out, clearing his throat. 

“I’ve taken a fist before.” 

His eyes widened in shock. “I’m sorry?” 

You laughed, cupping his face. “I’m just joking. I only wanted to see your reaction.” He was still flabbergasted as you kissed him. “But it is possible. I wouldn’t suggest it right now.” 

“Right now,” he repeats. Yes, right now. Eventually, you’d want his whole damn fist inside of you. “I’ll start with two.” 

“Middle and ring finger. Never index. It’s a rookie mistake.” 

“Of course.” Nanami relieved your clit and slid down your centre. “God, you’re soaking my hand, darling.” His words sent a ripple through you. Then his fingers slowly slid inside your tight heat, making him grunt. 

“How is it?” you whispered, massaging the back of his head while the other rested on the side of his neck. 

“Warm,” he said. “And . . . clamping?” 

This was entertainment for you. 

“Warm and clamping is one way to describe it. You can start moving your fingers in and out of me. Curl them, tap them, whatever you want.” Your tongue licked his upper lip, surprising him. “And if you want to blow my orgasm through the roof, circle your thumb on my clit. Don’t hold back.” 

And he didn’t. 

Nanami drove his fingers inside your pussy, unknowingly hitting your g-spot, and flinching when you cried out his name. The pad of his thumb rubbed your clit, or if he complained about a cramp, he’d used the mound of his palm, cupping your entire vagina. 

“I’m close—” You let out strained breaths, gripping his hair or shoulders. 

“Close to what?” 

“You’re going to make me say it?” 

Nanami appeared genuinely puzzled. “Close to your orgasm?” Oh, my god. He was genuinely puzzled. Why wouldn’t he be? You couldn't expect him to know about even the most obvious sex-related things. Part of you was excited to show him your vibrator and have him guess what it was. 

“Yes, Kento. I’m close to my orgasm.” 

He grinned with pride. Your heart melted, and you grabbed his face, kissing him as if your life hung in the balance. Amid his fervent moans, you came gushing down, drenching his hand with your release.

Pulling his hand out, he stared at your orgasm. “That’s quite a lot.” 

“Oh, my god, stop.” You covered your face, suddenly embarrassed by how much you’d come. 

“I’m sorry, darling. I meant it in a positive way. I’m very flattered. And thankful that you taught me how to please you this way.”

You caught him about to lick his fingers, causing you to shout in protest and pull his wrist back sharply. “No!”

“What? What is it?” 

“You can't just— You're all about cleanliness and stuff. I don't want you breaking your own rules for that.” 

Nanami smiled. “I’d break all my rules for you.” He went to go lick again, but you quickly pulled his hand towards your chest and wiped it on there. His face contorted to frustration. “What the fuck?” 

Your brows shot up. This was the first time you’d heard him curse. It was so hot. You wanted him to say it again. “It’s dirty.” 

“It’s a part of you.” He made a tch sound and retrieved his tie from the floor. “Give me your hands.” Taking your wrists, he bound them with the material behind your waist.

“Kinky,” you said. 

Nanami stayed silent, his expression now one of disappointment, his brows furrowed deeply. The confusion that once marked his demeanor had given way to a completely different persona. “If you won’t allow me to taste you from your hands”—he pushed your ankles up on the desk and sank between your legs—“I’ll drink straight from the source.” 

“Kento, wait—”

Too late. 

You broke into a chorus of moans as his tongue licked and lapped at your pussy. His mouth engulfed your clit and sucked on it hard, the tip of his tongue now swirling the little bud. His fingers spread your folds, as he cleaned every last drop of your juices, even probing your little hole that they seeped from. 

By the end of it, you were drenched in sweat, tears brimming in your eyes, your wrists throbbing from the restraints. Your body swayed side to side, legs trying to close him away, but he remained persistent in eating you out like a madman.  “Ken . . . I can’t—”

“Have you learned your lesson?” 

“Yes, goddamn it. Yes. I’m sorry.” You would let this man lick your whole body from now on. “Just kiss me already. Please.” 

He kissed your clit and travelled up to your stomach, each nipple, and to your mouth as he undid the tie so you could cling to him. His mouth met your wet eyes. “I’m sorry, darling. I got carried away a bit.” 

“No, don’t be. I loved it.” You planted a kiss on his cheek, making him smile bashfully, just like he had ten minutes earlier. “But I’d prefer someone else to touch me now.” 

His gaze grew intense. “Who?” 

You blinked. “Your friend.” 

He scoffed, running his fingers through his hair. “My— My friend?” 

“Uh, yeah?” 

“Have you spoken to him before?” 

You eyed his prominent bulge. “I’d like to. Touch him, kiss him, have him inside of me.” 

Nanami stared at you with disbelief. “No.” 

“No?” 

He gritted his jaw, fists at his side. You were completely frazzled by his response. Why was it that he got to explore your inside with his fingers and tongue and wouldn’t allow you to touch him? 

“That’s not fair. I thought you wanted me,” you mumbled. 

“And yet you want my friend,” he replied sharply. “Haibara will be disappointed to know that I don’t share.” 

Huh?

“Haibara?!” you shrieked at the highest decibel, jolting him. “Hai— Oh, my god. Oh, my god. Kento, you id— That’s not what I meant when I was referring to your friend.” How is this man running a multi-million dollar corporation? “I was talking about your penis. Dick. Cock. Whatever you prefer.” 

Nanami stood in stunned silence. His anger melted away, replaced by a sudden realization, his eyes darting upward. “Oh.” 

You’d had enough. If he prolonged your orgasm any further, you were going to get a female version of blue-balls. “Come here, you doofus.” You pulled down by his collars and kissed him, undoing his belt, button, and zipper for him. “Can I touch your dick, Mr. Nanami?” 

He nodded vigorously. 

You rolled your eyes, smiling, and slid your hands into his boxers, grabbing him. “Oh, God. I knew it. You’re so big.” 

“You knew it? Has it been on your mind?” 

“Ever since my interview. No one asked you to manspread. It drove me crazy. Made me stumble on my words.” You stroked him slowly, dissolving him in a sea of grunts and groans. “Be honest, did I get this job because you were attracted to me, or because I’m genuinely good at what I do?” 

Nanami pondered for a moment before responding, “Both?”

“Of course you chose the safest answer.”

“Well, you’ve managed my schedule flawlessly for three years. You handle all my emails, make the best coffee, and surprise me with treats. Yes, you’re undeniably beautiful, but it’s your heart that I’ve fallen in love with.”

Your hand froze. “Love?”

He nodded, a blush colouring his cheeks as he looked away. “Love.”

You cupped his face with both hands. “You love me?”

Another nod. “Since your interview.”

He had loved you for three years now. It seemed surreal. You liked him, certainly, but did you love him too? That was the question. Your mind had always assumed he would never see you romantically, so you held back from letting your feelings grow.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Nanami reassured you. “I’ve loved you enough for both of us for far too long. I can wait until you’re ready.” He kissed your forehead gently. “But please, don’t make me wait forever. I don’t want us to stay strictly professional. I want to take you out, make you my girlfriend as soon as possible. Eventually, make . . .” He paused, unsure where to place his hands, before settling on your shoulders. “Make you my wife.”

Oh, you were about to give him the best blow job ever. 

“Okay,” you whispered, stepping down from the table and taking his hands. “Let’s go on a date tomorrow, the day after, and every day after that. I want to be your girlfriend by next week— I’ll add it to your personal calendar. And I want dinner and wine at your place afterwards. Speaking of your place, I want to move in with you by the end of next month, or we can live in my shitty apartment— I don’t mind. You have to make me your wife next year instead of making me wait three more years. And I want two kids somewhere down the line. Oh, and a cat.” You grinned widely at his stunned expression. “Can you give me all that, Kento?” 

He breathed out heavily, nodding slowly. "Yes," he affirmed. His lips found yours. "Yes. I can. I will. I'll give you whatever you need." He kissed you without restraint, laughter filling his office like a contagious joy.

“Okay, okay.” You gently pushed him back by his shoulders and settled him into his seat. “Prepared to have your mind blown, Mr. Nanami.” Kneeling down, you kissed his thigh, tracing a path up to his hip bone.

His breaths came out laboured, short, as he watched your intentions with a hawk eye. 

You took him out of his boxers and prepared your poor throat. It was long and girthy, your fingers barely curving around it. Your tongue ran over his tip, collecting the salty, pre-cum leaking from there. 

Nanami hissed, gripping the armrests of his chair as he spread his legs wider. “Will this be painful?”

You looked up from under your lashes. “I'll do my best not to use my teeth by mistake.”

“I meant for you, darling.”

“One way to find out.” Your lips curved over the head of his cock, lowering yourself until his length was tickling the back of your throat. Nanami was in shambles already. You pulled back and licked him from his base to the summit. “You’re so warm, too. So hard.” Your hands sailed up his thighs, kissing his rigid length. “All for me.” 

“For you, darling.” He brushed your hair back from your face. 

Chuckling, you took him into your mouth again and sent a prayer you didn’t wake up with a sore throat. You could easily picture Nanami purchasing cough drops for you, brewing tea, and insisting you take a day off. The idea of him looking after you sent shivers down your spine.

Nanami gripped the sides of your head, his own tilted back as he breathed heavily through those flawless lips. Occasionally, he'd bravely look down and catch your gaze, then quickly avert his eyes to the ceiling. It was adorable how he struggled to maintain eye contact with you. You had assumed he avoided it because he wasn't interested in talking to you or listening to you yapping. It all makes sense now.

He's simply shy. And you're determined to coax him out of his shell, or even better, cozy up inside it where it's safe.

“The sounds you’re making,” he breathes out. The sounds you’re making, Kento. “It feels like you’re taking me deeper.” 

Because you were. You expanded your jaw, even hearing a little joint tick, and pushed him past the limit of your throat. You’d given blow-jobs before, but the guys were either too small, or too aggressive, leaving your scalp numb without any aftercare. 

Nanami was different. He left your hair and held your face, thumbs caressing your cheekbones as he struggled against his restraints. You could feel him twitch in your mouth, feel the veins pulse on your tongue, his sacs hot at your touch. 

But you wanted Nanami to come inside you. 

At the last minute, you drew him out of your mouth, the strings of your saliva and his pre-cum bridging from your lips and his tip. Nanami groaned at the sight, his dick twitch involuntarily, standing long and proud. 

“I want you inside of me now,” you whispered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and sitting on his lap. He pulled your lips in for a kiss as you adjusted his tip at your entrance, sitting down on it in one go. A cry ripped from your aching throat; a loud growl from his. “Fuck, Kento. Your cock’s filling me up.” 

“Such a dirty mouth,” he muttered, hand on your nape while the other guided your rolling hips. “Does it hurt?” 

You chuckled, head shaking. Your forehead rested over his palms on the side of his neck as you bounced on his lap, your movements growing faster. He was stretching you out, the tip poking your womb, practically splitting you in half. 

Nanami, on the other hand, was on cloud nine. You were warm and sticky, your walls cushioned and clamping around him, sucking him deeper by the second. He’d dreamt of this every night, jerking himself off to the thought of you, recalling the sound of your laugh, or your floral scent. 

Right now, his name slipped off your tongue and you smelled like him. Sweaty, breathless, moaning. This is exactly how he wanted you. Needed you. You were his assistant. His woman. His lover. If any other man dared to touch you, or flirt with you, he’d fire them. He wished he could kill them instead. 

You had awakened his territorial, possessive side, consuming him completely. If his parents refused to accept you as his equal, he would abandon everything and find happiness elsewhere with you. But first, he was determined to fight for you with all his might. Damn it, he loved you.

“I’m tired,” you whispered, wincing as you tried to mill your hips forward again. “Oh, no. I’m cramping up.” 

Nanami hated that he didn’t know what to do. He wished he was experienced. He wished he didn’t have to rely on you even if it was a turn-on when you dominated him with your words and actions. “Stop and take a breather.” 

You obeyed, resting your forehead on his shoulder.

He grabbed the globes of your ass and stood up, walking over to the couch and laying you down there. “Is this better?” 

“Yes.” You stretched up your arms then wrapped it around his neck, giving him a long, loud smack of a kiss. “Proceed.” 

Nanami chuckled, caressing your cheek. He thrusted inside of you, pulling himself to the tip, then back inside. It seemed to have you making those needy sounds, so must’ve been on the right track. 

“You’re so handsome,” you whispered, locking eyes with his deep brown gaze as he intensified his movements, growing faster and more forceful. “Yes, yes, yes. Oh, god. Ken—” You were cut off by his kiss, by his hand clutching your breast, pinching your nipple. 

“I love you,” Nanami murmured, kissing your throat and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You cupped the back of his hand, wailing moans as he pounded into you, flesh slapping against flesh. “I love you, darling. I love you so much.” 

“Kento.” You were feeling achingly sore, your legs losing sensation. He was rutting into you like a madman, and no, you did not want him to slow down whatsoever. “Kento!” 

He drew his face back. “Yes?” 

“I love you, too,” you cried out as you climaxed, your back arching off the couch’s surface. 

Nanami crashed seconds later. 

You were both a breathless, sticking, sweaty mess. Nothing but the sounds of your rapid hearts and shallow breaths could be heard. 

Nanami slid out of you after a minute of silence. He was glowing, golden hair damp with sweat and sticking in different directions from your hand that was running through it. He parted your legs and watched both your mingled release leaking out of you. “I did that.” 

You burst out laughing. “Thank you for letting me take your virginity.” 

He scowled at you, the kind where a smile creeped on his lips. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

“No, lay with me for a sec.” 

Nanami listened attentively and settled beside you on the couch, pulling you into his embrace. You showered kisses over his face, jaw, and the corners of his smiling mouth. “You said ‘I love you,’ by the way.” 

“I did.” Another peck landed on his lips. 

He swallowed, his eyes sparkling as they met yours. “Are you sure?” 

“One-hundred-infinite percent.” You fixed his hair away from his forehead, running your index finger down the slope of his nose and to his lips. “Say it back.” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too.”

Nanami sighed contentedly, his hand cradling the back of your head as he planted a kiss on your forehead. You giggled and nestled your cheek against his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist. “I know you said to wait until next week to make you my girlfriend, but is it alright if I make you mine now?” 

“I am already yours.” You drew hearts on his torso, feeling shy all of a sudden. You’d never been in a proper relationship before. But neither had Nanami. Which meant you’d both navigate your relationship together as novices. 

“Officially?” He continued. “Or I can wait—”

“Yes,” you said, craning your head up. “I’d love to officially be your girlfriend, Kento Nanami.” You savoured the relieved breath he took. How could you ever reject a soul like his? He was your favourite person. “But I’m still your assistant.” 

“And now I’m yours.” 

You laugh and rest your nose in the curve of his neck, closing your eyes. He hugged you close, lips lazily kissing the top of your head. “Get as much rest as you can, Boss Man. Round two is in five minutes.” 

[monstermaniawrites]

Lost On You. Liam Mairi

TW!! Smut, Oral (M and F Receiving) reader has undisclosed scars on her legs, cockwarming,squirting, creampieing Minor minor angst, Not canon

Read at your own risk.

I do not own fourth wing it belongs to Rebecca Yarros.

This is my first work here

YN POV

It’s dark when we arrive. The cover of night and the storm that has freshly passed leaves the air smelling of salt and rain as the waves of the ocean lap at the shoreline far below the cliff edge.

“Something the matter?” a voice breaks off from the throng behind me, I don’t turn to see who it is though, eyes trained on the gorgeous display of stars. I never did night missions and this was my first. I pat the strong blue scaled foreleg of Durontei as I turn to look at the approaching rider. I raise my eyebrows in surprise when Liam stands there, his face flushed and a wineskin clasped in one hand. They must be celebrating then.

“That was fast” I quip, arms wrapped around my midsection as Durontei curls her scorpion tail around me with an obvious protectiveness. I glance up at her, watching her blink her golden eyes at Liam.

‘He’s not going to hurt me, you know.’

‘He has something to discuss with you.’ is all she says back as Deigh strides forward, swordtail swinging back and forth as he passes me and nudges his nose against Duronteis. Her tail unwinds from around me as she follows her mate and soon it’s just Liam and I standing alone on the cliff edge.

“So what do you want to talk about?” I swallow around the lump in my throat, hands tightening on my forearms as he takes a few steps closer. I can feel the anxiety radiating off of him as he watches me. I bend my knees subconsciously, stretching and keeping myself from tensing too much. Violet and I are too alike and it scares me sometimes. Especially because no one else knows. It’s the only reason no one treats me as fragile, not quite like everyone else does.

“Is it that obvious?” he asks almost breathlessly as he runs a hand through his hair. I tug on the band attached to my sleeve. It looped around my middle finger and kept the fabric from riding up.

“We took out that group of wyvern and successfully killed the venin controlling them.” he starts and I nod, watching as he attaches the wineskin to his belt before taking another step forward.

“There was a possibility of losing you today and that honestly scares the hell out of me.” His usually bright blue eyes are dark with emotion as he looks away from my eyes. My pulse jumps and my cheeks go warm as he steps closer again, now only about five feet away. I don’t move, too tense to move from my spot as he gets closer.

“I know we haven’t been able to see each other as often with me always being around Violet but I want you to know that you’re still my friend,” the word ‘friend’ makes my stomach knot and sink like a dead weight. I nod and attempt to clear my throat as I pull my shields tight around me. The door of my mothers front door locked tight to keep out Durontei’s thoughts as well as the surprising new link I have to Liam. I keep that tether of soft blue light tucked away from me, not wanting him to feel just how painful the word is.

“Thank you Liam. I appreciate that.” I lie through my teeth, clenching my jaw and praying that he doesn’t see through it. I can’t bring myself to look at him as I turn and start walking.

“Hey- where are you going?” he asks from behind me, confusion pulling at his speech and I bite back the sob that threatens to break from me as I wave a hand absently over my shoulder, tears streaking hot lines down my face. “Off to celebrate.”

Liam

I watch her back as she walks away, my grip tightening on my leg as I watch her walk away. She’s limping slightly and her shoulders are shifting in jerky motions. I don’t call after her, giving her some space as she disappears into the throng of tents spread out along the tunnel walls, walking deeper into the cave.

“What happened to confessing your feelings?” Xaden asks as he appears out of the shadows to my right and I surprisingly don’t react, unbothered by the appearance of my closest friend.

“I don’t know,” I start, running a hand through my hair and looking up at him as he stands beside me, arms crossed and dark eyes watching me expectantly.

“I froze, I didn’t know what to say.” I grit and he fucking rolls his eyes at me.

“Say what you think, if you can’t say it out loud tell her to through your bond.” my eyebrows jump up in surprise and he shakes his head.

“How do you-” “-also a part of a mated pair remember?” he cuts me off and gestures off to where Violet stands talking with our friends. Suddenly a lot of their behavior makes sense. The silent staring contests, knowing info as it’s being given.

“I don’t know why I’m surprised.” I scratch my rebellion relic absentmindedly as I glance off in the direction she had walked off. The thought of her hair having been pulled back away from her face, lines around her eyes and across her nose from her flight goggles made it impossible not to warm me.

“Do you feel this way about Violet?” I ask quietly and he pauses and watches me as I clench my fist against my flight leathers above my heart.

“Like you can’t breathe when she’s not right next to you?” Xaden looks down at the ground and adjusts his stand. I’ve known him long enough to know his tells.

“Yes” is a simple word but it shows how vulnerable he is when it comes to Violet.

“And do you think it’s worth telling her how you feel?” I ask and he looks at me again.

“I think it’s worth showing her if I can’t tell her.” He takes the final step closer to me, clapping a palm against my back before walking back towards Violet. I turn instead and walk into the crowd of tents and head in the direction of hers. How do I show her? Consensually without her kicking my ass at least. Heat flashes down my spine suddenly, hot pulsing need twists my stomach and I have to stagger between tents and fires to get to the cave wall. It’s rough and cold under my palm and I rest my forehead against it as another wave of heat washes over me. I squeeze my eyes shut as I pull at the neck of my leathers, heat building and making sweat slick my skin.

“Liam?” I turn at the sound of a new voice and nearly vomit when Violet stands in front of me.

“Oh shit are you-” she stops short when she looks me over and I look down when I see her lips curve up into a smirk. My eyes nearly bulge out of my head when I see the hard on currently stretching the fabric of my clothes.

“Shit! Violet, I don't know what's going on!” I whisper yell, turning quickly and she snickers behind me.

“Liam, it seems like Deigh and his mate are getting busy” she snorts and the heat under my skin flares bright. If Deigh and Durontei are doing what she’s implying then that means…..

I swallow hard and fight to control my aching body as she steps to the side.

“I saw her go into her tent a few minutes ago.” She gestures in the direction of the back of the cave and I don’t waste a second before bolting. If her dragon’s currently coupling with his then she could be just as affected by them as I am. I feel her down the bond, the gentle throbbing of our bond draws me towards her. I weave between tents and people, trying to keep my erection under control until I get to her. Another wave of heat nearly takes me to my knees as I stagger and shake my head.

As soon as my knees stop wobbling I try my best to straighten when I feel that heat simmering down our bond from her and I nearly come undone on the spot. I see the faint glow of a lantern through the fabric of the tent, in the faint flicker I see shadows moving and I bite back the groan that builds at the base of my throat.

I stand in front of the fabric that makes up the only barrier separating me from her. I breathe deeply and slowly before speaking, looking up at the glittering top of the cave.

“Hello? It’s Liam,” I hear something clatter and the shadow moves before the fabric of the door shifts and unbound hair hangs around a flushed face. Her lips are parted as she pants, wide eyes staring at me in obvious panic and surprise. She had changed out of her leathers and into a loose long sleeved shirt that cut a V down the center of her chest, a leather cord woven through it. A long dark skirt obscured her legs from me and I can’t help the image I’ve thought of before from flashing through my head.

“What can I do for you Li?” she asks me, her eyes still wide and I swallow hard, mouth dry as I suddenly am at a loss for words.

“Can I come in?” I ask after what feels like forever and nearly groan when she licks her bottom lip. Her pink tongue darting out and wetting her lips. “Yeah of course” She smiles at me and steps to the side to let me in. The first thing I notice is the smell of her that engulfs me. Soft and sweet and so uniquely her. A mat and a few blankets and pillows from the supply carts are spread about on the floor while her pack sits beside the entrance of the tent. I sit down on the blanket to the left and pull my boots off and set them to the side. She follows, hiking up her skirt to expose the scarred skin of her thighs and calves. I breathe through my nose and close my eyes for a moment, trying to center myself.

When I open my eyes she’s sitting beside me, her back to the entrance of the tent. Her knees are pulled to the side while she rests her hands in her lap.

YN POV

I fight the urge to lean into his warmth as I sit next to him, the urge to press my hands between my thighs to relieve some of the tension I’m feeling due to our dragons is strong but I don’t give in. I keep them in my lap as I sweat and try not to pant like a dog in heat as the man I’m desperately in love with sits beside me.

“So what did you want to talk-” I stop short and nearly topple over as a wave of heat flashes me from head to toe, warmth making my stomach tingle and my cunt throb as every brush of the fabric of my shirt touches my sensitive skin.

“Fuck” He groans, hunching and holding his stomach as he pants in front of me. I keep from reaching out and touching the pretty blonde locks of hair that are sweat slicked to his forehead and cheeks.

“I want you” He blurts and I still, I don’t even breathe as I process the words and he looks up. His pretty eyes watch me with such softness and lust that it makes me dizzy.

“I want you more than I’ve wanted anything in my life and it scares the shit out of me. I almost lost you and I realized that if I didn’t tell you, that if I was too much of a coward to do that then how am I worthy of you?” He runs a hand through his hair and my heart thunders in my chest as he looks at his rebellion relic.

“I’m cursed. I’m the son of a traitor and I have a lot of secrets,” he keeps going but he reaches out and takes my right hand. His skin is warm and rough against mine, the shine of the mark on his skin reflects off the candle light as he sits up on his knees and looks down at me, determination in his eyes as he gently cups my face with his free hand.

“Nothing can keep me from you. I’ve been in love with you since before Threshing and I’ll be damned if I didn’t at least tell you.” he looks so focused as I look up at him. His mouth pulls into a soft smile, dimple becoming visible on his cheek.

I open my mouth to respond but I gasp out instead as a shock of pleasure shoots down my spine. I grip his hand with one of mine and the other flies to his hip, holding on for stability as he curls in towards me at the same moment. I shake as my nipples pebble and brush against the fabric of the shirt. I swallow the saliva that’s pooling in my mouth as I fight to regain my composure.

“Fuck” he bites out, head dropping so that his mouth is pressed into the crown of my head, his warm breathing making my scalp tingle. I scratch my nails across the leathers and take a deep breath through my nose, cracking my eyes open and fighting the urge to moan at the tent in his pants.

“Are you okay?” he whispers against my hair and I nod shakily. The hand cupping my face squeezes my jaw and I part my lips, panting through my mouth as he pulls away and looks down at me with pupils blown wide, nearly swallowing the blue I love so much. His cheeks are flushed as I look him over, taking him in and soaking in the heat coming off him.

“I want you” I whisper and he goes very still.

“I feel barely worthy of you but here you are, bonded to me like our dragons are bonded to one another and you’re confessing your feelings for me. This is not quite how I was expecting this evening to go” I snort softly as my lips tilt up slightly. His eyes go soft and he leans down, pressing his mouth to mine and I don’t fight, closing my eyes and losing myself to the feeling of him as he holds my face close to his. He tastes like liquor and chocolate and when his tongue gently touches my bottom lip I eagerly part my lips for him. He moans deep into my mouth and tilts his head to the side, deepening the kiss as his tongue slicks against mine.

That heat builds and builds all on its own now, his hands cupping my face while I hook my fingers into the waistband of his pants.

“Been wanting to kiss you for so long” he murmurs against my mouth, pulling away only for a moment to tug at the leathers and I waste no time helping him undo the ties and clasps.

Once he’s down to the black long sleeved shirt he wears underneath I can’t keep from sliding my hands under the warm fabric and allow my fingertips to trail up his stomach and abs.

He lets out a choked groan and slips a hand into the hair at the base of my neck and squeezes so that my neck arches to look up at him.

“Careful pretty girl,” he warns, sliding a hand down the side of my neck and under the neckline of my shirt. His large warm palm slides down my spine, his face nearing mine as his hand meets the small of my back and then he’s kissing me again and pulling me up against him, hooking an arm under my legs and laying me flat. I reach up, hands still under his shirt and wrap my arms around his neck and look down at the perfect muscles of his chest and stomach and then to the trail of blonde hair that leads down his navel.

“I want this off” I murmur against his mouth and he doesn’t hesitate in leaning back and pulling the fabric over his head and tossing it to the side. His chest is slick with sweat and the curling tail of his bond relic to Deigh disappears under his pants.

“Your turn” he grabs the hem of my shirt and I lift my arms and arch my back as he pulls the clothing from my body.

I shiver as the cool air touches my skin and Liam moans deep in his throat, my thighs clenching at the sound to apply some pressure.

“You’re so fucking pretty” He growls against the skin of my cheek as he trails his lips down the exposed expanse of skin.

“I’ve never seen your relic before” he runs a hand down the curve of my right side and I fight the shiver that crosses my skin, his warm fingers tracing the path of Durontei’s wings underneath my breasts, her head hovering over my belly button.

“Absolutely fucking gorgeous” he sounds absolutely wrecked when he says it and I shiver as his eyes take in my peaked nipples before he’s sucking one into his mouth. I gasp, wrapping an arm around his head and lacing my fingers in his hair as I rest my cheek on the side of his head, panting directly into his ear as he swirls his tongue around the sensitive skin of my chest.

Liam POV

I nearly come in my pants at the sound of her breathy little gasps. She knows exactly what she’s doing as I run my hands up her spine, pushing her back into an arch, her chest pressing up into my face. her cheek is pressed against the side of my head as I used the tip of my tongue to spell her name over and over across the sensitive flesh before swapping to the other nipple and giving it the same treatment.

“Liam please!” She whimpers into the shell of my ear, her lips brushing against me with each word. She’s flushed and panting, her fingers still curled into my hair as I look at the purple marks I left around her relic. I look down at the waistband of her skirt and then I grab the fabric by her knee and pull it up. She has two sheaths, one on each thigh and each armed with two knives each. Gods she’s so fucking sexy.

“Gods you’re so fucking beautiful” I tell her and she darts her eyes away bashfully but I don’t let that go, grabbing her chin gently and pulling her to look at me.

“Lemme taste you pretty girl, please?” another surge of heat flares in my spine and she gasps at the same time as my cock throbs in time with my heartbeat.

“Thank gods” I groan as I shove the fabric up to bunch around her hips and the sight before me absolutely undoes me. I shake as I see that she’s already bare underneath her skirt, leaving her gorgeous and on display. Her slick is smeared on the insides of her thighs, her cunt swollen and shiny as she tries to close her legs but I don’t let her. Holding her ankles apart and she whines.

“Were you touching yourself before I got here?” I murmur lowly and she stills, her cheeks ruddy and her eyes blinking up at me wetly.

“Fuck you where werent you” I throw my head back and swallow, hand running over my face as she gasps softly. I jump at the sudden feeling of her smaller hand brushing up my inner thigh towards my still throbbing hard on. I flush as I see the dark fabric and register the heavy wet feeling that surrounds my cock as she looks at the spot. I swallow down the embarrassment at the look of pure hunger in her eyes. She bites her plush bottom lip and then grips my hip with a hand and looks up at me.

“Was this because of me?” She whispers and I shudder as she licks her lips again and I nod slowly, gently I grab her hand, dragging it to the bulge in my pants. I hiss at the contact, still sensitive as I squeeze her hand around me softly.

“All of this is because of you” I tell her and move her hand over me. I bit down on my lip, fighting the urge to moan as I hear footsteps pass the tent. I press the back of my hand against my mouth as she leans forward and mouths at the cum soaked fabric of my pants, her warm tongue soaking the fabric even more as I throw my head back resisting the urge to just grab and fuck her.

“Wanna taste you Li, please.” She practically whines as she nuzzles my bulge again and I’m quick to unbuckle the belt and shove my pants down my thighs, my boxers following quickly after. The cool air against my cock makes me pant as I feel every part of my body tense. I look down at her spread out in front of me, propped up on her elbows and gazing at me from under her lashes as I stand and finish taking my clothes off, standing naked in front of her before I kneel in front of her again.

“Come here beautiful” I hold my hand out to her, tracing my fingers over her calf and ankle, marveling at the thin silver lines cut into her skin from her past.

I grip her ankle and press a kiss to the side of her foot before moving up her ankle and back up her calf. I make it past her knee and she whines, hands combing through my hair and tugging me to look at her.

“Wanted to taste you first” She’s fucking pouting at me as I look up from my spot, lips hovering over her thigh as I throw her leg over my shoulder.

“But baby I wanna take care of you.” I murmur, eyes never leaving hers as I brush my lips over her inner thigh, the skin prickling with gooseflesh as I breathe deeply. The scent of her makes me want to bury myself here forever. I could die happily between her legs.

“But-” I cut her off before she can get much further, using the flat of my tongue to lick the slick leaking from her pretty cunt, tasting her with a moan. She squeaks out and snaps her legs shut, throwing her head back. I wrap my arms around her thighs, humming into her warmth as I lick over the swollen bud above her center.

“Fuck Liam just like that!” She squeals and arches her back and I swirl my tongue around her clit, flicking it up and down as she shakes, squeezing her thighs tight around my head, my hearing being muffled by the strong muscles.

I wedge a hand under the small of her back while I use my middle and ring finger to circle her entrance before pressing them inside. She's tight and warm and pulsing around my fingers. The harder I lick the more she shakes. I’m kneeling over her at this point, her body folded in half for me as her hands hold my face tight against her. I don’t stop moving my tongue, don’t stop as she squeals and starts to push my head away.

“Liam please! Too much! Too much!” despite her words she digs her heels into my shoulders, holding me against her as she scratches her nails into my shoulders.

She’s close, I can feel it as she begins to spasm and I close my eyes sucking her clit into my mouth at the same time as I smack a hand over her mouth gently, her lips parting under my palm as she cums hard against my face. The gush of wetness floods my mouth and coats my chin as she spasms under my hold, her hands gripping the wrist of the hand covering her mouth.

Slowly I pull my hand back and unwind her legs from my head, my ears ringing slightly as I sit back on my heels and brush the hair out of my face with my damp hand. I watch her eyes flutter as I suck her juice soaked fingers into my mouth, sucking as much of her taste from my skin as I can.

YN POV

I lay in absolute bliss for a moment, slowly regaining the feeling in my fingers and toes first. I’ve never came that hard before in my life and he’s not even fucked me yet.

“How are you feeling?” he asks me, his voice hoarse as he wipes my slick from his chin. I flush warm as I let my eyes roam over his fucked out expression to the flush thats spread from his neck down his chest, my scratch marks line his shoulders and a few are even scabbing. He’s breathing heavily and I can’t help but look at the bobbing length of him in front of my face. I watch him take his fingers into his mouth and the way his eyes close in bliss. I don’t miss the way his cock jumps at the same time as he licks slick from his top lip. I unclip my sheaths and let them fall, my skirt quick to follow so that I’m laying naked under him.

His eyes open and watch me as I shakily shift to sit up on my knees, his hand extending to my waist to help steady me. I rest a hand on his chest, the other settling on his hip as I lean closer to him. I look up at him, eyes moving from those beautiful blues to his swollen lips.

“Let me take care of you?” I whisper against his mouth, his other hand grabbing my hair and holding me close, kissing me hard.

“Whatever you want it’s yours” he promises as I pull back and sit on my heels, gesturing for him to stand. Once he does I take his hand and pull him closer until he stands in front of me. He watches as I take his length in my hand, more long than girthy but he has a beautiful curve and he throbs in my palm, a prominent vein runs along the side and I slowly trace my thumb over it. He exhales a shaky moan but doesn’t look away as I take the swollen pink tip between my lips and lap up the pre that leaks onto my tongue. I feel his hand comb through my hair, pushing the hair away from my face and holding it in a loose fist at the back of my skull.

I begin to bob my head, hands settling on his thighs as saliva pools and drips in globs onto his thighs and my chest. With each thrust into my mouth I take him deeper and deeper, gagging when he touches the back of my throat.

“Fuck pretty girl.”

“That feels so fucking good”

“Don’t stop- please gorgeous”

“Gods look how good you look sucking my cock”

With every filthy word the more enthusiastic I become. I don’t relent until my nose is pressed into the patch of blonde hair at the base of his cock, his breathing ragged and deep as his thighs shake.

“I can feel you swallowing me down- barely even gagging look at you”

I bob my head faster and faster, letting him hold tight to my head and thrust his hips into my mouth.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck I’m close pretty girl”

“Where do you want it?”

“Your face? Your tits? Or do you want my cum on that pretty tongue?”

At his last words I swallow him down as deep as I can, sticking my tongue out as far as I can and he throws his head back, growling low in his throat as he snaps his hips forward. I hold onto his thighs and breathe when I can, my throat will be aching after this but I don’t care. If I’m making him feel this good then I don’t care what it does to me as long as I can see the way his eyes roll into the back of his head and his chest flushes.

“Cumming cumming cummingggggggg” He moans, hips jolting lightly as warmth fills my throat, I fight back from gagging and swallow every drop he gives me.

When I’m sure I’ve sucked him dry I attempt to pull back but he keeps a hand firmly on the back of my head, his cock has only softened slightly, his eyes sparkle as I look up at him in confusion.

“You just look so pretty with my cock in your mouth, just wanted to look at this sight a little longer” my belly warms at his words, his fingers carding through my hair as I lean my cheek against his thigh.

After a moment he slowly tugs my head back until his cock falls from my mouth wetly.

“How are you feeling?” He kneels in front of me and grabs my waterskin and hands it to me. I smile in thanks and take a few deep sips before handing it back and waiting until after he’s finished drinking before I move a little closer.

I let my eyes roam over his perfect body and the sharp curves of his jaw and the strong corded muscle in his arms and chest that flex under my touch. I trace my fingers over the bare skin of his shoulder and feel that warmth in my belly spread further through me, my blood warming as his eyes roam over me as well.

“What are you thinking?” he asks me softly, hand coming to gently trace my side before a finger circles my nipple, drawing a shaky breath from my lips.

“Fuck me” I don’t look away from him as the soft look in his eyes shifts to something more hungry, territorial.

“Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you?” his voice drops a few octaves as he watches my mouth, fingers tugging at my nipples now. I wince and hiss at the sharp pain from the tugging but it only proves to make them more sensitive when he draws his fingers delicately over the swollen skin.

“I’m not gonna do it unless you tell me” he growls and I narrow my eyes on him.

“I just did-” the words are barely out when he’s grabbing me by the throat and pulling me close to him. He's strong and holding my throat tight enough to keep me in place but not enough to cut off my airflow.

“Are you giving me attitude?” His words are calmly deceptive as he narrows his own eyes at me and I can’t hide the way I clench my thighs in arousal because holy shit, he’s sexy when he's putting me in my place.

“If I am?” I ask slowly and he raises an eyebrow at me, lips narrowing into a straight line as he tilts his head.

“Then I can’t fuck you baby. Only good girls get cock.” He murmurs to me and my lips part in shock. No way, he wouldn’t.

“But-” “Come on pretty girl, be good for me and I’ll fill you up nicely for the rest of the night. You just need to ask politely” his smile is all sin as I snap my mouth closed and furrow my eyebrows.

I see movement somewhere below me and when I glance down I can’t help but stagger. He’s got a hand wrapped around his hard and leaking cock now standing at attention all over again as his eyes roam over me.

Liam POV

I watch her eyes as the cogs turn in her head. I touch myself, relieving some of the pressure as she watches. And then, she’s dropping back down to her knees on the blankets and lays down on her back, hair spread around her head like a halo. She spreads her legs so I can see the dripping slit practically calling me to it. She cups her breasts with her hands and I can’t help but take in the gorgeous pictures she’s putting on display for me.

“Please Liam, need you to fill me up so badly. Only you” She bites her lip and I can’t resist, can’t hold my composure as I fall onto her, catching myself as my hands hit the ground on either side of her head and she looks up at me with needy eyes.

“I love you” the way her eyes soften when she says it makes my heart soar and affection flares as I gently brush my lips across her cheeks, brushing the loose hair from her face.

“I love you” I whisper back and kiss her gently, then kiss both her cheeks and over the side of her neck. I hike her thighs up around my waist as I collect some of the slick from her cunt before smearing it over my cock.

I gently press the tip of my cock against her entrance, the warm wetness of her begging for me. I gently take one of her hands in mine, our fingers laced together as I press my hips forward. She’s so tight that I have to move slowly enough not to cum right then as she arches her back and moans. I lean over her quickly and press my mouth to hers. Her free arm comes up and wraps around my neck as she pants against my mouth. Once I’ve bottomed out I hold still, waiting the agonizing seconds until I can move.

I kiss over her face gently before pulling back slightly and then pushing back in. pleasure flares through me and she bites down on her lip as I slowly build a rhythm.

“Gods look at you taking me so well” I coo and lower myself over her, face tucking into the croak of her neck and breathing her in as I pick up the pace.

“Liam please- fuck you’re filling me so good” she scratches into my back, nails sinking deep and I know I’ll have fresh scars in the morning. Heat builds at the base of my spine as I sit back up and lean back on my heels and pull her half onto my lap, arching her back and I press my palm against her abdomen moaning low, just for her as I feel the quick press of my cockhead against my palm through the soft skin of her navel.

“Don’t worry pretty girl, I’ve got you I promise.” I grit out softly, the sound of wet skin slapping together and her soft moans fill the tent as she tightens around me until I can barely move.

“I’m gonna cum Li- Please I’m gonna cum” at her words I look down and meet her fucked out expression, her mouth hanging open and her wet pink tongue on display as I lean down and spit into her open mouth.

She arches and keens as she goes tight around me wetness coats my cock and sprays against my abdomen, soaking the blankets as she shakes. I thrust one, two, three more times before I pressed into her deep, my face buried in her chest as I filled her with my cum. I breathe her in and keep my arms wrapped around her as we both breathe in the quiet of her tent.

“Liam” she calls my name softly and I look down at her. She’s so soft beneath me and I can’t believe I get to hold her as she brushes her fingers over my cheek.

“I love you” She whispers and I lean into her touch, soaking in her warmth. “I love you”

[coldfanbou]

Weaving the Web

Alright, everyone, initially, this was more smut-based, but then I sort of just kept adding story bits so I needed to check all that and make sure it was consistent.

Length 3K

Momo X Jihyo X Mreader

Previous Part

Next Part

You head to the shower and notice all three women are following you. “Where are you all going?”

“We’re going to shower with you. It saves water.” Sana replies, putting her hand on her hip as she stops in her tracks.

“I’m okay with paying more on my water bill. Besides, we wouldn’t all be able to fit.”

“We’ll see,” Sana says as she walks in front of you, heading into the shower. You would be right; the shower could barely accommodate all of you. You would touch one of the women if you moved in any direction. Jeongyeon made the situation worse by putting herself in front of you, her ass rubbing against you when she stepped back. Jeongyeon was doing this unconsciously, wanting to keep you for herself. 

“Couldn’t we have taken turns?” You ask, “We can’t shower well because it’s cramped. 

“We can clean each other… like in a circle.” Nayeon chirps as she faces Sana. You sigh and agree to the prospect; the circle would have Nayeon washing Sana, Sana would wash you, and you would wash Jeongyeon, and so forth. It was initially awkward with Sana not knowing how she would handle you when you got hard. She got better over time, treating you as if you were any other person and scrubbing your body. When she got to your cock she stroked as she went, licking her lips as memories of last night rushed back to her. You groan as you feel Sana’s hand rub your shaft. You try to focus on Jeongyeon, attempting to wash her back as Sana’s grip grows tighter. Jeongyeon looks over her shoulder, notices what’s going on, and turns around. 

“Sana, we’re supposed to be cleaning each other up.” She says, trying to dissuade the younger woman. Sana pouts but stops touching you; she restrains herself and washes your back. “Turn around, I’m washing him.” Jeongyeon orders, becoming more protective of you. You’re forced to turn around, and Jeongyeon does her best to clean your body. As she works, though, she becomes lost in thought and hugs you behind. Her hands slowly move lower until she’s stroking your cock just like Sana was a few minutes ago. 

“Ya! Jeongyeon, we’re supposed to be washing each other,” Sana complains as she sees Jeongyeon engage in the same actions. Jeongyeon snaps out of it, her face red, while Nayeon laughs at the situation. 

You speak up, tired of the situation. “You know what. I’m clean enough. I’m going to set out. The three of you can wash yourselves.” You say as you turn off the water and head out of the shower. You wipe yourself down and leave the women to their own devices.

The women stand there momentarily inside the shower before Nayeon turns the water back on. “So, what’s going on with you three?” She asks nervously.

Jeongyeon and Sana look at each other and stay silent, waiting for the other to speak. “I- We’ve done this before,” Jeongyeon says as she speaks up. “It’s not the first threesome we’ve done.”

“Okay, but I meant with him particularly.” Nayeon clarifies, “You both seem a little into him.”

“I am not into him,” Sana says, refuting Nayeon’s claim. “I will admit he has a good cock,” She adds.

The attention soon turned to Jeongyeon. “I…think…” She shakes her head, struggling to form the thoughts. “I think I’m in love with him. He’s just made me feel so good about myself recently. I trust him and…I want to be with him.” Jeongyeon says softly, letting herself be vulnerable in front of her friends. Nayeon stays silent but shows her support by hugging Jeongyeon and patting her back.

“Have you told him any of this?” Sana asks.

“Not quite; I’ve told him a little about my feelings. The thing is, I’m not the only one; Dahyun and Jihyo also like him.” Nayeon is shocked at the revelation, her mouth gaping.

“So you guys are competing?” Nayeon asks.

“I guess so, but…” Jeongyeon shakes her head again. “Let’s talk about this later. I need some time to organize my thoughts.”

You check your phone once you’re out; the women stay inside a bit longer. You open Jihyo’s message first. “Hey, I gave your number to Momo. She said she wanted to talk about something with you. If you’re planning something with her, don’t leave me out, okay?”

You check the message from the unknown number, and as Jihyo said, it was Momo. It read, “Hey, handsome, it’s Momo. I was thinking about the last time we were together, and I want to feel you inside me again. Jihyo gave me your number, and I thought maybe you’d like to do something.” A follow-up message was, “I’m not looking to date or anything; I just want to be friends with benefits. Jihyo said she’d be fine to join us, too. Can you imagine how nice that would be? Call me,” She said, adding a winky face to the end of the message. You recall the last time you were with Momo. It was a threesome with Mina. You consider her message for a time before putting your phone away. You get dressed for work, and the women leave the shower, their bodies covered with your towels.

“Hey, I don’t know about you three, but I’ll head to work now.” Nayeon and Jeongyeon looked at each other before deciding they needed more time. You nodded, smiling at that Jeongyeon wasn’t as sad as before. You tell them to lock the door before they leave and head out. You do your usual routine, picking up Dahyun and such before reaching the office. During your lunch break, you pull out your phone and consider your options. You didn’t know where you stood with Jeongyeon after what happened to her. Maybe she wouldn’t be ready to go into another relationship right after. While she did come to you for sex, you didn’t know how much it meant to her, especially considering she was drunk. You sigh and accept her invitation, sending her the message, “Jihyo was more than interested in joining us. You can make a group chat, and we can set something up.”  Momo replied instantly, setting up a group chat for the three of you and setting out her schedule. Through this, you find the three of you were only available tomorrow. Jihyo quickly makes herself the host, telling both of you that her house will be empty for the week. You agree to meet at her place, ending the conversation. 

Dahyun walked in a moment later, fidgeting with her hands as she approached you. “Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Yeah, what is it?” 

Dahyun sits down next to you, her face turning red as she glances at you. Dahyun’s mind races; she’s beginning to panic and stands back up. “Actually, it’s nothing. Uh, thanks for driving us here every day.” She says before hurrying out of the room. Dahyun heads back to her desk, shaking her head and disappointed with herself. She wanted to confess how she felt about you, but it felt like her heart would burst out of her chest. She slumps in her chair, rubbing her temples as she decides she'll confess to you the next time she gets you alone. 

You watch Dahyun scurry away, smiling as you think of how cute she is. With your break ending, you stand up and get back to work. The day goes by smoothly, and soon, you’re returning home after dropping off Dahyun and her baby. You head back home, finding it empty. You sit back on your couch and relax, happy to get time for yourself. You spend time relaxing and messaging Nayeon to ask about Jeongyeon’s situation. She told you that the two would live together for the foreseeable future and that Jeongyeon would focus on her divorce. You appreciate the update. Tell her as much as you can. When you ask when they’d return to work, Nayeon tells you they’ll return next week. You give her a thumbs up, and the conversation ends. 

The next day after work, you went to Jihyo’s home; as you reached the building, you saw Momo outside. You called her name, and she turned her head; as soon as she met your eye, a smirk came across her face. “It’s nice of you to be here. I was tired of waiting all alone.” She says, just as Jihyo opens the door.

“Come inside and make yourself at home. It’s just me.”

“Why is that?” You ask Jihyo as you step inside her home for the first time.

“My husband is on a week-long trip with his friends, and my parents wanted to take Nari to an amusement park in Busan; they’re returning in two days. So that leaves the entire place for us.” Jihyo shuts the door behind her and smiles at the two of you. You notice Momo staring at your crotch, “Momo, keep your eyes up.” Jihyo says as she leads you to the living room. 

“I can’t wait any longer; it’s been too long since I’ve had sex,” Momo whines as she walks toward you. Momo sat you back on the couch, pressing her lips against yours while Jihyo unbuckled your belt and pulled down your pants. She reached for your cock, stroking it slowly as she stood up to kiss you. “We’ll take care of everything,” Jihyo says as she pushes her arms together, squeezing her tits together. Momo cups your cheek, turning your head before pulling down her shirt and pulling out her tits, letting her shirt hold them up. Momo leans in for another kiss, but Jihyo interrupts her, stealing a kiss from Momo as she strokes your cock. You watch as Momo holds Jihyo closely, their tongue exploring each other. Momo reaches for Jihyo’s tits, squeezing roughly. The soft flesh melds around her hand as Jihyo moans. A smile forms on Momo’s face, clearly enjoying the sound of Jihyo’s moans. 

“Why don’t we treat this big guy to something only we can do?” Momo says, getting off the couch and kneeling beside Jihyo.

“You read my mind,” she replies. The women get on either side of you, pressing their breasts together around your cock. The soft mounds trap you, and each woman cranes their neck, lapping at the side of your tip. “Just sit back and enjoy.” Jihyo and Momo glance at each other and nod as they drag their tits along your shaft. You groan from the pleasure, enjoying their soft mounds as they move. Momo leans over your cock as she works her side of your cock. She gathers her saliva and lets it drip onto the tip of your cock. As it moves down your shaft, Momo’s saliva coats the women’s tits. As the friction lessens, they’re able to move faster and smoothly. Jihyo does the same thing minutes later; as you look down at the women, you see their lustful expressions and glistening chests. They continue moving their tits along your shaft, taking turns to lick the tip as it poked out from between them. You moaned their names as you felt your orgasm approach. 

Momo and Jihyo slow down, “Don’t cum so soon. We want to make sure you save some for later.” Jihyo said as she looked at you.

“I think we should let him,” Momo chimes in, “But only if you beg.” She says, focusing on you. “How bad do you want to cum?”

“Please,” you grunt, feeling close to the edge. Momo slowly moves her tits along your shaft, making sure her hard nipples run along it. 

“Please, what? What is it our baby wants?” 

“I want to cum on your tits.” You grunt, precum leaking from the tip. 

“What do you say, Jihyo?” Momo asks the younger woman.

“I don’t think that was good enough,” Jihyo says as she moves her tits along your cock at an agonizingly slow speed. “Beg a little more. I want to hear how much you want to cum on mommy’s tits.” Hearing Jihyo refer to herself as Mommy surprises Momo but arouses her simultaneously. You begin to beg to cum on their tits, moaning their names as you approach your climax. Satisfied with your begging, the pair speed back up and press their tits together. “Come on, big boy, cum on mommy’s tits. Cover her in your cum.” Jihyo says, pushing you over the edge and making you spurt cum onto their chest. A healthy amount coats their tits and parts of their neck. Momo runs her hands along her neck, smiling as she collects your warm cum and licks it off her finger. 

“Mmm, that’s nice. Have a taste, Jihyo.” She says, pushing her finger into the younger woman’s mouth. Jihyo smiles and sucks on Momo’s finger, getting you hard as she moans around it. Momo notices it and smiles. “Looks like you’re ready to go again. Let me get him first, Jihyo; I’ve been craving him all day.” Jihyo pouts but lets Momo go first. The older woman straddles your lap, placing your hands on her ass. “I want you to help this thing go as deep as possible,” Momo tells you, grabbing your cock and rubbing it between her lips. As Momo aligns it to her entrance, she leans over, whispering, “Fuck this pussy up.” She kisses your ear and licks her lips before dropping herself onto your cock, stuffing herself with your shaft. Momo throws her head back and moans, feeling satisfied with how you fill her cunt. You grip Momo’s as and begin helping her ride you, moving her up and down your cock like she was a fleshlight. Your thrusts bring her more pleasure as you knock against her womb. Jihyo watches as you use Momo, seeing it as different from how the two of you would have sex.

Jihyo sits back on the floor, rubbing her cunt in small circles as she watches Momo moan like a bitch in heat. She didn’t stay out of the action long, however. Jihyo got up and played with Momo’s tits, tugging at her nipples and making the older woman moan louder. “You should know, Momo loves having her tits played with,” Jihyo tells you as she pinches Momo’s nipples roughly. The older woman bites her lip, her whine sneaking past her lips as she struggles with immense pleasure. “Her nipples are super sensitive.” Jihyo says before staring at Momo and pressing her lips against the older woman’s, “I bet they would be more sensitive if she were pregnant. I bet you’d love that, wouldn’t you, Momo?” 

Momo couldn’t hear what Jihyo was saying anymore; the feeling of her nipples being pulled and your cock stretching her filled her mind. Momo nodded her head without knowing what Jiyho had asked. You could feel Momo tightening around you as she neared her orgasm. Her moans became low and constant as you rammed your cock as deep as you could go. “Cum inside her,” Jihyo tells you before attaching herself to one of Momo’s nipples and swirling her tongue around the hardened nub. Momo’s cries of pleasure filled the room. She was drooling, and her tongue hung out of her mouth. 

“I’m cumming,” Momo groaned, shutting her eyes as her walls tightened around your cock. You didn’t hesitate to follow Jihyo’s orders and buried yourself inside Momo’s snatch. You pumped her full of your cum, painting her walls as her pussy milked you. Momo’s body twitched, and a euphoric smile spread across her face. She reached down, rubbing her clit as she came down from her high.

“It’s my turn now, Momoring,” Jihyo whispered, giving Momo’s tits one last squeeze. Momo climbs off slowly with assistance from Jihyo, who soon lets her fall to the floor. Momo reaches between her legs, gathering your cum and eating it as she recovers. She watches as Jihyo straddles you next. Jihyo presses her lips against yours, licking them as she pulls away. “I’ve been waiting for this.” She says before lowering herself onto your cock. Jihyo coos as she feels you split her apart, your cock filling her well. She smiles as she begins to bounce on your cock. She moves your hands to her tits, letting you play with them as she bounces at her own pace. 

Jihyo kisses your neck as she rides you, enjoying a slower pace. “Mommy is going to enjoy milking you baby. I want you to fill my pussy just like you did, Momo.” You squeeze Jihyo’s breasts softly, watching milk drip onto her stomach. Jihyo moans softly, enjoying your touch. 

Momo soon climbs onto the couch, sitting next to you and catching an eyeful of Jihyo’s leaking tits. She silently goes in, sucking on Jihyo’s tit and drinking her milk. Jihyo stiffened; she felt Momo’s tongue move up and down over her nipple. “Ah, Momo, hold on,” Jihyo grunted as she rode you. Jihyo struggled to do anything, being caught between the pleasure she got from you and Momo’s thievery. She could only put her hand on the back of Momo’s head, inadvertently pushing the older woman against her tit. “Shit, I’m going to cum.” Jihyo stares into your eyes with a pleading look. “I want you to cum inside me. Put a baby in me.” Jihyo moans as she tries to push you over the limit with her words. Jihyo’s cries of pleasure fill the room as she plants herself firmly on your cock, feeling it throb inside her before it finally spews your baby batter. Jihyo holds Momo to her chest, keeping her there as you pour your cum into her, and she rides out her orgasm. She kisses you, her tongue exploring your mouth. You ride out your climax together. Jihyo keeps her hips moving as she tries to drain every drop from you. 

Once she felt satisfied, she got up, your cum immediately running down her leg. “Let’s head to the bedroom to be more comfortable,” Jihyo says, leading you and Momo. Once in the bedroom, you wouldn’t leave as the three of you go all night. You gave the pair creampie after creampie until you were tapped out. Covered in a heavy layer of sweat, the women clung to you, their tits rubbing against you as you all drifted off to sleep.

[sunshineyrosie]

and in the silence, there’s us

summary: she would never have expected bringing her boyfriend a coffee after a long shift to be the moment that changed everything.

pairing: Viktor x reader (no use of Y/N; no physical description but she works as a nurse and grew up in the undercity like him)

w/c: 2.7k

notes: 3rd person POV, allusions to smut at the end, but nothing too explicit. this is my first time posting fanfiction in nearly 10 years, and my first Arcane fic, so please be kind <3 feedback would be very appreciated. also, i’m posting this using the tumblr app, so please forgive any formatting issues.

read on ao3: here 2nd person POV version here

She slips into the lab, balancing two to-go cups in one hand, while pushing the door open with the other. The scent of the coffee curls into the air before she speaks, announcing her presence.

“Thought you could use a pick-me-up,” she says, setting the cup beside him on the workbench. He glances up at her, his face lighting up just enough to make the exhaustion in her limbs worth it.

“You’re a lifesaver,” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek before returning to the delicate circuit board in front of him. She watches him for a moment—so absorbed in his work, fingers deftly adjusting the tiny components with careful precision.

“Funny you should say that,” she says, dropping unceremoniously onto the stool beside him, stretching out her sore legs. “Because I actually did save a life today. Well… kind of.”

“Kind of?” He hums, taking a sip of his coffee as he adjusts a resistor.

“Well, mostly because I resisted the urge to strangle a new resident with my bare hands.”

His smirk is instant. “High bar for heroism these days, no?”

“Trust me, if you were there you would understand.” She deadpans, taking a swig of her coffee before continuing. “This patient comes in, right? He’s pacing around, clutching his chest like he’s auditioning for a medical drama. Then the brand new just-out-of-med-school cardio resident struts in like he owns the place, and immediately declares that the patient is having a heart attack. Orders every cardiac test known to man, meanwhile I’m standing there going ‘Hey, maybe it’s just indigestion,’ but apparently my Tiny Nurse Brain wasn’t worthy of such insight.”

Viktor lifts an eyebrow in anticipation. “And?”

She huffs, stretching to get a crick out of her spine. “When I kept insisting, he finally sighed, looked at me like I was a nuisance and told me to give him an antacid ‘if that would make me happy.’ Like he was indulging a toddler!”

“Did it work?” Viktor asks, his smirk widening.

“Oh, beautifully. Two minutes later and the guy lets out a burp so aggressive it could be classified as a seismic event, then suddenly felt amazing. Meanwhile, Dr. Smug, MD was suddenly very fascinated with the ceiling tiles.”

Viktor chuckles, shaking his head. “Did he at least apologize?”

“Of course not,” she replies with a snort. “He’s a doctor. Pretty sure admitting a nurse was right would void their medical license.”

“Well, I hope you were gracious in your victory.”

“Oh absolutely. I smiled, nodded and let him marinate in his shame. A picture of a true professional.” She responds with a cheeky grin.

That earns a full laugh from him, a sound she never tires of. “You could write a book. Things I’ve Had to Say to Medical Professionals That Should Be Obvious.”

“Maybe I should, it would sell millions.” He shakes his head, amused.

She leans into her seat as he returns to the work in front of him, and they relax into their normal routine—the easy back and forth, the familiarity. She talks as she always does, effortlessly filling the silence with whatever happens to be on her mind—recounting the chaotic moments from her day. Her patients. Some absurd interaction with a coworker. And as always, he listens.

He doesn’t interrupt much, mostly responding in low hums, nods, and half-smiles as he works. Occasionally letting a quiet chuckle or a cheeky quip escape his lips. But mostly, he just lets her talk. It’s always been like this between them, chattering from her, contented silence from him.

She knows he’s focused—his mind occupied by whatever invention he’s creating, adjusting, fixing—but he never makes her feel like a distraction, or acts like she’s intruding on something important.

Even if she’s rambling about absolutely nothing, he lets her. Because he likes hearing her talk. She knows that he is listening even as his hands move with precision. His quiet attentiveness is one of the things she loves most about him—not that he simply listens to her, but the fact that he wants to.

The hum of Hextech machinery fills the lab, a steady backdrop to their conversation as she watches him tinker with some new prototype. At this, she realizes the absence of his partner. “Where is Jayce today, anyway?”

“Out with Councilor Medara.” He responds, curtly. “Something to do with finalizing their venue choice for the wedding.”

“Did he tell you about the venue?” she says, tipping her head back to finish the rest of her coffee. “It’s ridiculous—ginormous chandeliers everywhere, some garden straight out of a fairytale, a twelve piece orchestra. I swear, it’s more of a spectacle than a wedding ceremony.”

Viktor chuckles. “Jayce does love going all out.”

“Mel, too. They want it to be unforgettable.”

“Seems like they will get their wish.”

She sighs, absentmindedly rubbing at a stain on her scrub pants that won’t come out. “I don’t think our wedding would ever look like that. It’d be simple. Just something small and meaningful.”

She suddenly realizes what she’s said—that she’s referred to it as their wedding, as though it’s a certainty. She doesn’t expect him to react, hoping he wasn’t listening that closely or would take it for what it was—another passing comment, an idle thought. One that she’d never even considered seriously because, well, she assumed it wasn’t on his radar.

Then, suddenly, Viktors hands still. The tool in his grip falls onto the metal surface with a soft clatter. He turns to her, studying her carefully, like she’s just said something that rewired his entire world. “Is that what you want?”

She blinks. Oh.

She hadn’t expected that response. Hadn’t expected his full attention, the weight of his golden-eyed gaze. She hadn’t expected the way his voice turned heavy and serious. “I—”

Before she can get an answer out, he abruptly stands up, grabs his cane and strides—well, as closely as one who walks with a cane can stride—into a lone storage room on the opposite side of the lab. Wait. What just happened?

Panic sets in fast. Her stomach clenches. She hadn’t meant to drop some grand revelation, and certainly had not expected anything more than a hum of acknowledgment. He didn’t react negatively, but now he was gone, and silent. A foreign, uncomfortable kind of silence her brain struggles to interpret. I ruined everything, didn’t I? Scared him off?

Marriage was something she never bothered dwelling on. His work consumed him most of the time. Marriage almost seemed like a silly afterthought in his world—a world of progress and Hextech research and scientific deadlines. And yet… he’d gone quiet and then left the room.

She grips the edge of the counter, already bracing herself for a polite change of subject when he returns. Backtrack, quick. Fix it.

Maybe she could laugh it off, shake her head, say something about it being a hypothetical. Obviously I wasn’t serious about it being our wedding.

Or she could change the subject entirely—a ridiculous shift into something, anything else. This was certainly an area she excelled at. Hey, did I tell you about my patient who thought she could cure her appendicitis with lavender oil?

She scrambles to think of something, anything to pull herself out of this mess.

She’s just about to get up and find him, to force the words out of her mouth before the silence swallows her whole, when he returns—his expression unreadable, something clutched tightly in his palm.

Without hesitation, he makes his way back to her, stopping close enough that she can see the flicker of determination in his eyes. Anything she planned on saying was suddenly lost in her throat.

Then, gently, he takes her hand, turning it over before slipping something onto her finger—a thin, delicate loop of twisted wires. “I’ll get you a better one,” he says, watching her reaction intently. “But I couldn’t wait another moment to see a ring on your finger.”

Her breath catches, alternating between glancing up at him and back at the wire now wrapped snugly against her skin. The makeshift ring is a delicate twist of copper wire, with thin strands of blue and silver cables weaved through it. It fits perfectly, and it’s threaded in a way that gives it a quiet elegance so beautiful that it shouldn’t be possible for something crafted in mere minutes. Yet, somehow, it is.

It shouldn’t surprise her, really. Not when it’s his creation. Not when those meticulous hands of his could never make something carelessly, even if he tried.

“You—“ her voice is barely above a whisper. “You’re serious?”

“I am.” His voice is steady, sure, like he’s just made the easiest decision of his life. “I’d like to formally apologize for not getting down on one knee—bad leg and all. I figured proposing without completely wiping out on the floor was the better choice.”

A relieved laugh bursts out of her, the tension melting instantly. Then, voice full of warmth, she nods. “Okay.”

His relief is instant, undeniable. Before another word can be said, he wraps his arms around her and pulls her in—so tightly, so fiercely, like he’s afraid she might disappear if he lets go. She hears his cane clatter to the floor.

She presses into him, fingers clutching the fabric of his well-worn vest, her scrubs still wrinkled and stained from a day that now feels insignificant compared to this. Viktor, the co-creator of Hextech, the man who never rushes, never jumps without thinking, somehow did just that today. This man—her fiancé—was going to be her husband.

Neither of them ever thought they would have this—this moment, this certainty, this absolute rightness that never seemed possible growing up in the Undercity. No one had ever expected much from Zaunite kids like them, but they both refused to let their circumstances dictate the limits of their success.

She fought her way into the world of medicine, earning respect in a field that wasn’t always kind to her. And Viktor—he had built something incredible, something groundbreaking, with a brilliant mind that never failed him, even when his body tried to.

They found each other in spite of a world that didn’t seem built for them. But now, here they were. Standing in a city, in a lab, that once felt like a distant dream, holding each other like the world finally made sense, and neither of them would let go.

Not now.

Not ever.

—

Later, much later, they lie tangled together in bed, still sweaty and out of breath.

Their bodies were pressed closed together like the space between them didn’t have a right to be there. He’s been stripped of the braces he wears throughout the day, his back and leg finally free of the rigid support. Just skin against skin, warmth without barriers.

The room is quiet except for the soft hum of the night outside in Piltover, and an occasional creak from the old apartment settling around them. His fingers trace slow patterns along the bare skin of her back, absentminded; a habit more than a conscious thought. She has her left hand placed on his chest, unable to stop staring at the ring. Hardly believing it was real.

She exhales, shifting against him, pressing a chaste kiss onto his bare chest, right over his heart. “What if we just elope?”

His fingers still for half a second before continuing their path. “Skip the whole thing?”

She hums, placing two, three more kisses against his warm skin. “Think about it—no stress, no planning, just the two of us.”

Viktor considers it. He can picture it easily—just the two of them, slipping away, exchanging vows in some quiet place where no one else exists. Incorporating Zaunite traditions into the ceremony. It’s tempting, ridiculously tempting.

But then—

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. “I think it would be nice to have our people there. The few we have, that is.”

She exhales, tilting her head back to look at him, pleased to see his amber eyes looking right back at her. “Yeah. It would.”

Neither of them have families in the traditional sense—no parents, no extended relatives waiting for an invitation. But they do have people, as few as they might be. “I guess if we do that, it will barely even be a wedding. No ridiculous venue, no big fluffy dress, definitely no twelve-piece orchestra.”

“No chandeliers?” He asks with a smirk.

“Absolutely not.” She responds with a playful glare.

He chuckles, tightening his arm around her bare body. He places a contented kiss at the top of her head. “Besides, if I were to elope without making Jayce my best man, I think he might cry.”

She snorts. “Cry?”

“Oh yes, full on devastation. Probably will shed real tears just to guilt me about it for the rest of my life.”

She laughs, shaking her head. “Alright, fine, we can’t have that. I will not have our marriage haunted by a lifelong grudge.”

A comfortable silence settles between them again. Then, he curls his fingers underneath her chin, a silent request to look at him again. “It doesn’t need to be big. Just ours.”

“Yeah,” she breathes, softly pressing her lips against his. “Ours.”

After a beat, his chest shakes with a quiet chuckle, as if he just realized something. “What?”

He exhales, shaking his head slightly. “I was just thinking about Jayce, and how he is going to lose his mind when he finds out.”

She laughs in response. “He will probably think we’re messing with him at first.”

Viktor sighs dramatically. “And when he finally realizes it’s real—“

“Oh, he’s gonna cry.”

“Do you think we’ll get the quivering lip?” Viktor asks, smirk widening.

“Absolutely.” She nods. “But the moment he wipes his eyes, it’s all over.”

He groans, rubbing his hand down his face. “And then, after the waterworks, he will pivot immediately into planning mode.”

“Oh without a doubt. Give it thirty seconds and he’ll be listing venues, caterers… probably finding some way to put fireworks into the budget. Viktor, I swear, if he starts planning anything with a theme, we’re shutting the whole thing down immediately.”

“This is what I get for letting him meddle in my love life in the first place.” He grumbles, poking her in the side, making her jolt with a startled laugh.

“Hey!” She swats at him, grinning.

“I should’ve known better,” He teases with another quick poke to her ribs, making her regret ever letting him find out she was ticklish. “Letting a scientist play matchmaker? Dangerous.”

“Oh please,” She grins, swiftly pulling him toward her by the back of his neck so he lands on top of her. “You didn’t ‘let’ him do anything. He probably treated us like an experiment—ran the calculations, probably put together an entire hypothesis about why we’d end up together.”

Viktor scoffs, a breath of laughter beneath it, leaning down to begin trailing kisses along her neck and collarbones. “Fortunately for me, his data turned out to be shockingly accurate.”

“I bet there’s a whole spreadsheet somewhere proving our compatibility. Probably laminated.” She giggles, her hand sneakily making its way down his torso.

His groan is immediate. “There absolutely is. And if he tries to present it at the wedding, I am banning him from speech making.”

“Oh come on,” she laughs as he pins her wrists against the mattress and begins leaving teeth marks on her skin. “You’re a scientist yourself, mister. A little scientific validation never hurt anyone.”

Viktor doesn’t argue with this. They both know without Jayce introducing them, they might never be here now. He pulls away to look at her, his gaze lingering down at her for a long moment. When he speaks again, it’s softer. “I love you, you know.”

“I know,” she responds, looking back at him with nothing but devotion. “I love you, too.”

They would tell Jayce soon—tomorrow, perhaps. But for now, he wanted to ensure that no man except for him would be on her mind (or mouth) for the next few hours.

Viktor leans down and presses a wet kiss against her ear, spreading her legs apart gently and slowly pressing himself against her until they’re one. And just like that, the world again shrinks to nothing except for the two of them.

—

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you can find a 2nd person POV version here