#somebody: challenges her a little

[sifutoph]

thinking abt t0ph actually being so easily manipulated………..

[fingertipsmp3]

No one:

Me: does anyone want to hear what my sims family did today

[joelscruff]

imperfect for you (joel miller x f!reader)

masterlist | a/n written for @janaispunk's 1500 kisses challenge! i got joel + nose kisses with this lovely moodboard and actually managed to write something!!! believe it or not this started out as a drabble lmao. i hope you like it jana - sorry it's a bit late, and congrats again on your milestone 🤍 summary: you never thought joel miller would accidentally call you baby. warnings: age gap (joel is mid 40s, reader is 23), fluff, very brief instance of blood, tending to a wound, joel is eepy, soft kisses, cuddles word count: 5.5k ao3 dividers by @saradika-graphics

"When's the last time you slept?"

He doesn't bother to grace you with an answer, hands clenched on the steering wheel as you barrel down the vacant stretch of highway back to Lincoln. He's been ignoring you for the past fifteen minutes now, eyes straight ahead, brow furrowed, jaw clenched. But he looks pale, almost sickly, the whites of his knuckles stark against the sudden greenish hue of his skin. The last thing you need is for him to pass out and for the two of you to crash into a damn ditch.

"I'm just saying," you continue with an exasperated sigh, "I could drive the rest of the way, we're almost there."

No reply. You roll your eyes and cross your arms indignantly in the passenger seat, returning his icy demeanor. He's in one of his moods again, the ones only Tess really knows how to handle, but you'd volunteered to try your hand at a supply run in her stead which means she's not here to mediate. You should've known some issue would arise, stubborn Joel inventing problems in typical Joel fashion.

"You could've tried to last at least one more hour pretending to like me," you mutter, loud enough for him to hear. He doesn't say anything.

Almost a year of working with them now, and you still don't understand him. You're not sure you ever will. Tess, she's much easier to understand, much more open to being understood. She'd seen your potential and taken you under her wing, brought you in to help, taught you everything you needed to know about smuggling. And Joel... well, he's a different story.

"You know, Tess thinks I have promise," you continue anyway, expression crumpling into a scowl, "She thinks I can do this. I don't get why you don't."

No answer.

"And don't say it's 'cause I'm a kid, because I'm not. I'm twenty three now, I'm past the point of being called a fucking kid. The shit I've seen in that QZ-" you cut yourself off, shaking your head, "I'm not a kid."

His lack of response is beginning to hurt deeper than you'd really like to admit. You glance over at him again; he's still staring straight ahead, still ignoring your presence. It makes unwanted tears prick in your eyes, nose stinging a little as you peer down at your lap and fold your hands together.

You'd been excited for this supply run, probably against your better judgement. You'd wanted to show him how much you know and understand, how hard you've been working, how you're up to the task. Hoped maybe he'd give you a smile - rare, but not impossible - and tell you that you did good, that he sees potential in you too.

You care what he thinks, almost more than what Tess thinks. And you know why, can sense it deep in the pit of your stomach and in the way your heart stutters when he looks at you, but you're clearly living in a fantasy world if you think he's ever gonna get past whatever this stigma is that he has against your age. She's too young, Tess. She'll get hurt, Tess. She shouldn't be doin' this, Tess. You've heard it all, muffled through closed doors in a dark and damp hallway.

He doesn't want you, and you're not sure how much longer you can go on like this. If he's not willing to change his stance, view you as anything other than an inconvenience...maybe Tess will have to find somebody else to help out.

"I know what I'm doing," you mumble, a tear dribbling down your left cheek, "I just wanna help."

You spare him one more look, fruitlessly hoping that maybe he'll feel bad now that he's made you cry - a childish thought, considering you're trying to make a case for being mature, but you can't help it. You know he's capable of being gentle, of being kind. You've experienced it with him before, quiet moments between the two of you in his apartment while waiting for Tess to return, making small talk, him peering at you with a softness in those brown eyes that have since made frequent appearances in your dreams. Moments where you swear you felt wanted under that gaze, but it must've been in your head, because you certainly don't feel wanted right now.

He doesn't look well, you have to admit. His skin is covered in a sheen of sweat, getting paler by the second, turning an unnatural grey color akin to some of the hair on his head. His eyes are glassy, dark bags settled beneath them that you've noticed getting worse and worse over the past few weeks. You shoot a glance at his hands again and are surprised to see that he's loosened his grip, that his fingers seem to be trembling against the rubber.

"Joel," you say, raising your voice a bit, "Joel, are you okay?"

His lack of response no longer angers you - it worries you. Carefully, you reach over and slowly wrap your hand around his right wrist, eyes trained on his face. At your touch, he finally turns to look at you, almost like he's only just noticed you're even there.

"You say somethin'?" he asks, voice raspy, a bit slurred.

Your grip tightens on his wrist, "I think you should stop the car."

He looks at you curiously, dazedly. It's the expression of a man who's running on two, maybe three hours of sleep in the last few days. You choose your next words carefully, eyes flickering back and forth toward his face and the road that he's suddenly no longer watching.

"Let's slow down a bit," you murmur, thumb stroking gently along his skin - he's warm, warmer than normal - "I'm gonna drive the rest of the way, okay?"

You expect some pushback, an attempt at an argument, but the tiredness is setting in quickly. Without any hesitation he eases his foot off the gas and you hurriedly reach your own leg over into his space to push down on the brake. He doesn't seem to notice the way your bare leg brushes his jeans, the crease in your knee bending over the warmth of his thigh.

"There we go," you say softly, bringing the car to a slow stop. He's still looking at you, eyes unfocused as you carefully lean over a little more to unbuckle his seatbelt. You try to ignore how good he smells, how big he is compared to you, putting all your attention on getting him out of the front seat. You unlock his door and then unbuckle your own belt, hurrying out of the car to his side.

"M'okay," he mumbles as soon as you open his door. You start to help him out, and you think he's becoming a little more aware of the situation now, allowing you to pull him to his feet as you tug open the back door. "What's happenin'?"

"You're just tired," you tell him softly, "It's okay, you can sleep in the back, I'll drive."

"Bill n' Frank's," he says as you lead him the right way, pushing him a little and helping him place his knee down on the seat, "Y'know where it is? You remember?"

"I do," you tell him confidently, your hand coming down to press flat against his back - he's so solid, heat radiating against your palm, "Only twenty minutes away now, I got it. You just sleep."

He doesn't argue; in fact, he makes your job easier by crawling onto the seat and settling down with a low groan, rolling onto his back and breathing deeply. You can't help but let a small smile cross your features, watching as one of his hands comes up to rest atop his belly, the other dangling onto the floor. His eyelashes flutter a little, lips parting, and you're about to shut the door when he speaks again.

"I know you jus' wanna help, baby."

You stand there for a moment just staring at him, confusion racing through your thoughts. Goosebumps rise on your flesh as the last word repeats like a mantra in your head, steady and slow as Joel drifts off. It's only when the door is shut and you're in the front seat that you're able to put some meaning to the words, eyes wide as you stare at the faded lines on the road.

I know what I'm doing, you'd said, I just wanna help.

You leave him in the car when you get to Bill and Frank's, typing in the gate code with a backward glance at his loose form in the backseat. They must see him on one of the security monitors, because as soon as the doors open you spot them sprinting out of the house toward you, a scanner gripped in Bill's hand. Typical.

"He's okay," you tell them as soon as you're out of the car, instantly alleviating their stress, "He's just exhausted, I think he needs to sleep for a little while."

"Understatement of the century," Frank replies with a relieved laugh, eyeing the backseat, "Think we can get him in the house?"

"Just leave him in the car," Bill says with a wave of his hand, already turning to head back towards the house with the scanner hanging out of his pocket, "He'll be fine."

Your gaze meets Frank's and he rolls his eyes, "Come on, baby, let's get him upstairs." Your brows go up at the pet name, the same word that had fallen from Joel's lips only twenty minutes ago, but then Bill is shuffling back over with an annoyed look on his face and you quickly realize he's not talking to you.

Getting Joel out of the car proves to be a lot more difficult than getting him in. You try a gentle approach at first, brushing his arm and stroking his skin with your thumb again like you'd done earlier. You can feel Frank's eyes on you as you squeeze Joel's bicep, his wrist, his thigh, and you pretend you don't see the look that passes between him and Bill as you step out to let them take a turn.

Bill goes for a much more aggressive approach, shaking Joel's shoulders wildly and practically yanking him out of the car. Understandably, Joel wakes with a gasp and kicks his legs out, hand reaching for his pistol as he frantically tries to escape Bill's grasp. Before he can grab it though, he's suddenly falling forward, knees buckling as he faceplants onto the pavement beside the car.

Well, that certainly wakes him up. His hands press into the gravel and his head shoots up, blood trickling down his nose as he peers up at the three of you, stunned.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Bill," Frank groans.

"That was not my fault."

Ignoring them, you kneel down and gently touch Joel's shoulder, a concerned look on your face as you eye the splattered blood on the ground, "Fuck, are you okay?"

"What in the hell is goin' on?" he groans, turning to look at you, "Did Bill just break my fuckin' nose?"

"Don't be dramatic," Bill barks, spinning on the spot and heading into the house, "Shoulda just left you in the car."

Joel starts scrambling after him, rising up and standing on wobbly legs, hand reaching for his pistol once again. You and Frank grab him before he can do anything, both of you taking an arm and holding him back.

"Joel, you're exhausted," you tell him quickly, utilizing all your strength, "You just need to lay down. Please."

He turns his face to look at you and something flutters in your chest when you catch the way his eyes soften, the anger in his expression fading as he acknowledges your presence. You can vaguely make out Frank watching the two of you in your periphery, but you try your best to ignore it, instead opting to give Joel a reassuring smile.

"Let's just get you cleaned up, okay?"

You're grateful that Frank leaves you alone with Joel to tend to his nose. You've only met him a handful of times, but each time he'd somehow been able to clock the way you interact with Joel, the way you look at him. The last time you'd been here he'd subtly pulled you aside to give you a few words of wisdom.

"You do realize he's extremely unavailable, right?"

"I- I don't know what you're talking about."

He'd smiled, tapped his nose and given you a knowing look, "And I don't just mean because of Tess. That man is emotionally constipated, kiddo. He's an island." He'd laughed then at your confused expression, shaking his head, "Just be careful, s'all I'm saying."

You'd gone to walk away, forget the conversation even happened, when he'd softly called after you:

"And I'm pretty sure Tess would hang your head on her wall."

You think of those words now as you stand in front of Joel in the small bathroom off the landing, lip between your teeth as you eye the cut on his nose. It isn't broken, thank fuck, but you can see some dirt and gravel in there that you need to clean out.

"It's not broken," you tell him softly. He's sitting on the edge of the bath tub, peering up at you with a much more alert expression. The fall definitely woke him up, not to mention the choice words he and Bill had thrown at each other as you and Frank helped him up the stairs. He's still exhausted though, and he needs to rest.

"I know it's not," he grumbles, "Just wanted to give Bill a piece of my mind for once."

You laugh softly as you reach for the damp cloth beside you, bringing it up to carefully pat it against the gash on the bridge of his nose. You can feel his eyes on you, watching and assessing as you do your best to wipe the area clean.

"I can do that myself," he murmurs.

"I just wanna help," you say quietly, and your eyes fall to his in a knowing glance. He doesn't seem to remember though, just nods and lets you carry on.

It's rare for you to be this alone with him. And by that, you mean this far from Tess. You're painfully aware that it would be impossible for her to walk in at any moment, to see the way you're standing over him, touching him. Frank's words from last time echo in your head but you're not quite sure you believe them; would she really be that angry if she knew how you felt about Joel? It's not like he'd return it, right? The man is twenty years your senior and, as Frank said, extremely unavailable. Not to mention Tess and Joel's relationship has been a point of confusion to you for a year now, still unsure exactly what they are to each other - would she really care?

You reach for the antiseptic - one of the many perks of having an injury in a supply house - and carefully dab some onto the cloth. Your hand trembles a bit as you reach up to carefully hold Joel's chin, your thumb getting lost in his greying beard.

"You haven't shaved in a while," you breathe, your eyes meeting his, and you wonder if you've already crossed a line by even noticing.

He doesn't seem to mind though, sighing deeply, "I haven't slept in a while, so let's hurry this up," he eyes the cloth, "Don't gotta warn me, just do it."

His words bring you back to the present, and you slowly ease the cloth down onto his cut. He hisses a bit, a normal reaction, but it only takes a few seconds to clean and then you're already reaching for a bandage, reluctantly letting go of his chin.

"I was worried about you, before. In the car," you tell him softly, unpeeling the adhesive, "Why haven't you been sleeping?"

His eyes fall to the floor, "I just don't sleep good. Never have."

"Is there anything I can do?"

He shrugs, gives you a humorless laugh, "Handful o' pills and a couple sips o' whiskey usually does the trick."

It makes sense, then, why these past few weeks he's seemed worse. It's been longer than usual since your last supply run and the three of you had started running out of vital supplies over a week ago now, not only for buyers but for yourselves. Joel had written whiskey near the top of the latter list, along with hydromorphone which he'd underlined several times.

"You should've told me you weren't feeling well," you murmur, applying the bandage carefully, "I could've driven the whole way."

"Could've, should've," he dismisses you with a grunt, "Doesn't matter now, does it? We got here, that's what counts."

You linger a little longer than you should on the bandage, thumb falling to gently trace the crease of his nose as you assess your work. It might scar, but it feels pointless to voice this - he already has so many, scattered across his face and neck like confetti. It hurts a little, knowing he's been through so much, seeing the evidence written all over him.

"My mom had this superstition," you tell him softly, a smile playing at your lips as you trace one of the scars under his eye, soft and delicate, "Whenever I got hurt, skinned my knee or busted my elbow playing, she'd bandage me up and then kiss it. She said a kiss would seal her love in there, keep me safe and protected. And if it scarred, that meant it worked."

He blinks at you, expression faltering a bit, "That's...that's a nice thought."

You shake your head, "It's silly, and not true. But... but I still do it anyway, even though she's gone. Just in case," you bite your lip, "I mean, who doesn't wanna feel a little more safe? A little more protected?"

Your gazes lock, and neither of you seem to move, caught in the stillness of the moment and the way your thumb is still stroking his face. You know you have limited time, maybe a few seconds before he breaks it, so without much thought at all you lean down and lightly press your lips to the bandage, eyes closed.

He inhales sharply, a sound that triggers butterflies in your tummy as you hold your mouth against his nose, soft and sweet. It's the closest you've ever been to him, even if you're kissing gauze and not skin - you can still feel the warmth radiating from him, sense the way he freezes below you. A squeaking sound pierces the silence, his hand squeezing the edge of the bath tub tightly. It startles you, your eyes blinking open as you pull back to look at him.

His cheeks are tinged pink, eyelids heavy as he peers up at you with slow blinks.

"You're tired," you breathe, unable to stop your hand from flitting to his hair, pushing a little behind his ear, "Let's get you to bed."

The Joel Miller in Bill and Frank's guest room is not the Joel Miller you thought you knew.

This Joel is loose, pliant. He lets you lead him into the bedroom with a hand on his back, lets you carefully turn him on the spot to reach up and undo the buttons on his flannel. Frank had told you on your way up to make sure Joel didn't get blood on the sheets, so you're only following orders, only doing what you were told.

"Sorry," you murmur softly, fingers shaking every so often as they toy with the buttons, sticky with his blood. Joel doesn't seem to notice though, retreating more and more into the sleepy state he'd been in earlier.

Once his flannel is off you assess his t-shirt and jeans, and you're not sure how to feel about the fact that they didn't get dirty in the fall. On the other hand, though, you're not sure you'd have been brave enough to take them off. Instead you help him toward the bed, pull back the sheets and carefully push him ahead.

"There you go," you whisper, helping him under the covers and pulling the blankets back over him. The sun is streaming through the window, casting the golden light of early evening across the bed, and while it's quite beautiful you shut the curtains anyway, knowing he'll sleep better in darkness. When you turn back around, he's already fallen asleep, lips parted, face peaceful. A different man.

You don't linger, even though you want to.

It's around ten o'clock when you decide to check on him again. You'd watched a movie with Bill and Frank, feeling more than a little unwelcome as Bill tossed you a few dirty looks every so often, though Frank repeatedly told you to ignore him. Now they're in bed downstairs while you pad from your own room across the hall to Joel's, turning the knob carefully. The hinges squeak a little as you open it and you wince.

"Who's there?" you hear Joel grumble from the bed. So much for just taking a peek.

"Me, just me." You push the door wider and walk inside, eyebrows going up when Joel turns on the bedside lamp. He seems a little more rested, although you know he still needs a full night's sleep. "I sent a message to Tess through the radio to let her know we're not coming back tonight - well, Frank did. Picked a song called Tomorrow or something like that."

"Hope it was the Johnny Mathis version," he mumbles, and you watch as he brings his hands up to rub across his face. He accidentally dismantles the bandage and you step forward without really thinking, hurrying to his side and reaching down to fix it.

His hand comes up to grab yours and you freeze in place.

"I can do it," he says, giving you a curt look and then releasing your hand to adjust the gauze himself.

Well, you suppose lax and sleepy Joel couldn't stick around forever. You stand awkwardly by the side of the bed, toying with the edge of the blanket as he rubs his eyes and sits up a little, leaning back against the headboard. He looks so much older in this light; you can see the little flecks of grey in his beard and hair that have been starting to get more noticeable lately, the crows feet, the wrinkles.

He's so handsome.

He turns to look at you with a frown, as if he's only just realizing what you said, "We can go back tonight, I'm fine."

"You're not and you know it. Besides, it's already past ten and now I'm tired, I won't be able to drive."

"I can drive."

"Joel," you surprise yourself by sitting down on the edge of the bed, narrowing your brow as you give him a serious look, "You can't drive. You almost fucking killed us both."

"No I-"

"Yes you did," your tone is firm, suddenly angry - are you angry? - "If I hadn't been talking to you, if I hadn't noticed something was wrong, you would've driven us off the damn road."

He goes quiet at that, frown deepening, the lines on his face more prominent in the low lamplight. You sigh, eyes falling to rest on where your hand is settled on the bed, only inches from his. Part of you wants to reach out and touch, feel the warmth of his skin, the rough of his palm - the other part decides to do something even more stupid.

"You called me baby."

It's out of your mouth before you've even really acknowledged it, and once the words have tumbled out you know there's no taking them back. Your gaze snaps back up to his, slightly surprised to see that he doesn't seem very shocked by your admission.

He clears his throat a little, averting his gaze and shuffling a bit under the covers, "Did I?"

"...Yeah."

You think maybe he'll say something else - anything else - but he doesn't. God, it really is like pulling teeth with him; he's so fucking beautiful but so impossible, never being able to expand on something unless prompted, never being able to answer a single question without jerking you around first. How the fuck has Tess managed to deal with it for so long?

The thought of Tess sends a wave of guilt through your body, Frank's words echoing in your head, but you shove it down.

"What made you... I mean why..." your voice is soft, apprehensive and shy in the quiet of the bedroom, "why'd you call me baby?"

A beat of silence. Then-

"Don't ask me that."

The mood has shifted, your sudden anger ebbing and his annoyance fading into something else, something on the brink of being real. He's avoiding your eyes, peering at the window with the curtains drawn and tapping his fingers anxiously against the mattress, so close to your hand. He's nervous; you're making him nervous.

You stay silent, hoping he'll speak again, hoping maybe just this one time he'll tell you what he's thinking.

"I don't know why."

The words are barely a whisper, almost like he's telling you a secret, and he leaves them hanging in the air briefly before amending - "Well," he sighs and finally looks at you, an emotion you can't place crossing his features, "that's not true. But... I didn't mean - fuck, I was passin' out, for Christ's sake, I didn't realize-"

He cuts himself off again, raising his hand up to press his fingers to the bridge of his nose, briefly forgetting the bandage. He winces when he comes in contact with the gauze, "Can I take this off? It's drivin' me fuckin' crazy."

"Let me do it," you say quietly, inching forward on the bed and reaching for his face. He flinches when you go to touch him, and your hand freezes mid-air.

"Sorry," he mutters, shaking his head like he's shaking off a sensation, a chill, "Go ahead."

With careful - and slightly trembling - fingers, you remove the bandage from his nose. It looks much better than before, no fresh blood in sight, and you suppose it's okay for him to keep it uncovered for the night. Without really thinking about it you gently thumb the side of his nose just shy of the cut, the tips of your other fingers brushing against his cheek.

"It's not too bad," you murmur, and before you know it you're suddenly cupping his jaw, feeling the weight of it in your palm. Your gaze falls to his lips, your thoughts going a mile a minute.

You realize you're close enough that you could kiss him, if you really wanted to. If he really wanted to. All it would take is one small movement, one little push from the both of you, one leap of faith...

And then he whispers your name, almost a warning, and it's like his thoughts are mirroring yours - like he can see exactly what you're picturing, wishing for. Your eyes meet his and you feel a flutter in your stomach when you see the way he's looking at you, a quiet hunger hidden in the deep brown.

You decide to test the waters. You lean in and softly press another kiss to his nose, this time without the gauze in the way. Just like you'd thought, his skin is hot under your lips, soft but scarred, and his smell - god, he smells so masculine and safe, invading your senses as your lips trail downwards to press a small kiss to his cupid's bow, then another to the corner of his mouth. It's sharp, prickly from his scruff, but it doesn't bother you in the slightest - in fact, you kind of like the dull pain, the way it grounds you, keeps you in the moment.

"Baby," he whispers, and a soft little whine falls from your lips without meaning to as your lips move to ghost across his mouth, going for another kiss - a real kiss.

He pulls away before you get there, but then his hand comes up to touch your face, big and wide. He holds you like you're precious, small. His baby.

"S'not right," he whispers, though his thumb strokes your cheek soothingly, "S'not okay for me to want you like that."

You close your eyes at his touch, breathing deeply, "But you do."

"Yeah, I do," you hear him murmur, "You know I do."

"For how long?"

He doesn't respond right away, just continues to stroke your cheek, hold what feels like all of you in his warm palm. You tilt your head a bit to the side, eyes fluttering open to look at him again. You catch the way his lips turn up a little at the movement.

"Too damn long," he sighs, "But that don't... that's not..." he brings his other hand up to cup the other side of your face, holding you still as he peers at you in earnest, brow furrowed, "Point is, we shouldn't... you shouldn't be out here alone with me. Tess knows how I-" he cuts himself off again, and you can see now how difficult it is for him to communicate like this, to be open and honest, "I told her it wasn't a good idea."

"Why?"

He laughs lightly, thumbs circling the apples of your cheeks, "'Cause look where we ended up." He swallows, eyes falling to your lips, "Look where you are right now, baby. Look where my damn hands are for cryin' out loud."

"Keep calling me baby," you breathe, a desperation in your voice that betrays your emotions, tears pricking in your eyes as the weight of this conversation comes crashing down around you. He wants you - he's always wanted you. His words to Tess about not wanting to put you in danger, wanting you to stay away, those soft looks you've shared in his apartment, the small talk, all of it - it's because he wants you.

"We can't do this," he murmurs, leaning in to press his forehead to yours, eyes closing, "I can't do this, you're so- you're too-" he groans, fingers digging into your hair, "You're so young, baby."

"I don't care," you whine, butting your head forward to chase his lips, suddenly yearning to be kissed and held and protected by him, be wrapped in his embrace.

But he pulls away, removing his hands from your face and shuffling back a bit on the bed, away from you. Your hand drops but you reach out pathetically for him anyway, moving closer, attempting to pull the covers back. His hands capture yours and he squeezes them firmly, shaking his head.

"You need to go back to your room," he tells you, and his tone has changed from soft to serious, "It's late and I'm... well, you know I'm fuckin' exhausted. And you've had a long day." He looks at you with pleading eyes, like he's silently begging for you not to put him in this situation, "Let's just call it a night, okay?"

"But-" you start, tears shining in your eyes.

"Please," he breathes, "Please don't make this harder than it needs to be."

You do not want to get up from his bed. But you do.

You do not want to leave his room. But you do.

You do not want to lie awake in your own bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about how his hands felt on your face, the way his eyes searched yours, the way his skin felt under your lips.

But you do.

You lie there for hours, thumbs twiddling against your belly, tears trickling down your cheeks every so often. All you can hear in your mind over and over again is the word Baby, punctuated by that soft groan he'd made, the way his thumbs had stroked your cheeks, how large and warm and safe he'd seemed in that bed.

All you want to do is be in that bed with him.

So it's no surprise when, as the sun is beginning to rise and that warm golden light starts to stream through your window, you crawl out from under your blankets and cross the hall one more time.

"We shouldn't" he murmurs when you climb into bed with him, when you tuck yourself into his side and bury your face in his shoulder, but his hands are already in your hair, fingers stroking along the back of your head.

Your bodies mold together like they've always been meant to fit that way, your legs tangled with his, arms trapped under big biceps and hairy forearms, breasts flush with his suddenly bare chest.

"I wanna be your baby," you whisper.

The nose you'd kissed brushes slowly up and down the side of your face, and he doesn't hesitate this time. He reaches up to turn your head, presses his lips against yours and lets you melt into him. Lets you trail your hand downward to unbutton his jeans in the silence of the early morning.

"You already are."

[ellecdc]

mother!!!! that recent poly!marauders + lily fic had me WEAK. if you please, could you write a part two where shy!reader finds out remus is a werewolf? I could see rem really not wanting her to find out bc he doesn’t want to scare her, but maybe severus(or somebody) spills the beans thinking she already knew, or she overheard a conversation between the boys. she’d be accepting of course, but remus freaks out when she finds out. just a lot of comfort and reassurance.

hope that gives you some inspiration, also, totally don’t have to write it if you don’t want to, of course!!! ilysm 🖤💚

I took this in a bit of a different direction but the ending's just the same! thanks so much sweets <3 <3

pt 1 // pt 2 // pt 3 // pt 4 // pt 5

4.6k words

poly!marauders + lily x shy!reader who learns about Remus' furry little problem

CW: miscommunication trope, insecurities, angst [with a happy ending], reader is feeling incredibly insecure in this fic, James cries, Sirius cries a little bit too but they all pretend not to notice for his sake

You felt terribly foolish; no, you felt worse. You felt absolutely humiliated and you had no one to blame but yourself.

And now that you were here - ‘here’ being rushing to the dungeons to lock yourself in the Hufflepuff dormitories for the next foreseeable future - you aren’t sure how you had convinced yourself that this was going to end any other way. 

It was a pipedream at best, thinking you had any place amongst the infamous Marauders and the princess of Gryffindor, and it was delusional at worst. 

Of course they’d grow weary of you, of course they’d find your nerves and anxiety tiresome, of course they’d wind up bored of accommodating you when they were all so much more than you. 

What had you been thinking? How did you manage to allow yourself to believe that this was anything but a phase for them - they saw you as a challenge, they beat the challenge, and now they were through with you. 

You thought that the sweet looks, the kisses, the affection, the effort all meant more than it obviously did.

At least to them.

To you, it meant the world.

To them, it was a chore.

You were a chore.

Foolish girl. 

You had been on your way to the library to meet up with the boys and Lily to study for the upcoming Herbology test. It was the first real group ‘date’ after the sketchiness that usually followed Remus about once a month that no one else seemed inclined to comment on, so neither did you.

Except…except, this time, some lingering tension seemed to follow the bout of sketchiness. 

And still, no one seemed particularly inclined to comment on it.

And you couldn’t help but feel like you were out of the loop somehow, but you chalked that up to being a newer addition to the dynamic, and not living with them in Gryffindor tower.

That is until you happened to be walking out of their view behind the stacks of books that their table was situated by when you overheard their conversation. 

“You’re going to have to say something to her, Rem. This is getting out of hand.” You heard Lily say solemnly, earning her a pained groan from Remus’ lips, causing you to pause behind the stacks so as to not interrupt their conversation.

“Can’t we just ignore this? Just for a little longer?” Remus bargained. “I mean, it can’t be that bad?”

“It’s worse, Moons.” Sirius corrected. 

“Y/N’s so sensitive though.” James added. “I mean, how would that conversation even go? How do you tell her something like that?”

“It has to come from Remus.” Lily stated matter-of-factly. 

Remus let out a long-suffering sigh. “And how do you suggest I go about this?”

“Listen.” Sirius asserted. “I don’t bloody care how we tell her, but we have to say something. I cannot keep living like this; it’s exhausting.”

Lily made a tsking sound and placed a consoling hand on Sirius’ shoulder as Remus let out another sigh.

“I know, I know; I’m sorry you guys. I thought we could ignore it but…I don’t think we can anymore.”

Lily, Sirius, and James all made a hum of acknowledgement.

“I think we ought to just rip the bandaid off and hope she understands.” Lily said.

You felt your stomach migrate to your throat as you turned on your heels and fled the library.

Is that what all the tension was about? Is that what this library study date was? Just a ruse to sit you down so they could break up with you?

Of course it was, idiot. You scolded yourself.  They were foolish to entertain the likes of you for any amount of time. 

So now you were here - ‘here’ being rushing to the dungeons to lock yourself in the Hufflepuff dormitories for the next foreseeable future - and you aren’t sure how you had convinced yourself that this was going to end any other way. 

“Do you think I should do it tonight?” Remus asked Lily as she finally sat down. 

“I think it would be best if we did, sweetheart. I just can’t help feeling like we’re keeping her at arms length by keeping it a secret, you know?”

“I agree.” Sirius said quickly. “It feels like she’s more of a guest than actually part of the relationship whilst we’re keeping something so big from her.” 

“I just don’t want her to hate me.” Remus admitted in a whisper.

“Remmy.” James cooed from the other side of Sirius. “Our sweet little Puffle seems completely incapable of hatred. But you know we’ve got your back 110% if she’s not accepting of you, right?”

The other two nodded in agreement but Remus only grimaced. “It just feels like I’d be ruining the relationship for all of you if the only person she has a problem with is me.” 

“Impossible.” Sirius replied emphatically. “Anyone who has a problem with you has a problem with us, Moons.”

“Even if we weren’t dating, Rem, if someone didn’t respect my friend - or anyone, for that matter - because of their lycanthropy, I wouldn’t want them around anyways.” Lily agreed.

“I don’t think we’ll have a problem, though.” Sirius continued. “Like Prongs said, she’s our sweet girl; I’m sure she’ll handle this fine.”

“Where is she, anyway?” James said, flipping his wrist to check his watch. “She was supposed to meet us like twenty minutes ago.” 

The other three shared a look of bemusement. 

“Do you have the map?” Sirius asked.

James quickly pulled the map from his book bag to scan the parchment for your name. “It says she’s in the Hufflepuff common room?”

“Maybe she forgot?” Lily mused.

“I spoke to her at dinner; she said she was going to change out of her uniform and then meet us here.” Remus replied, feeling his heart rise to his throat with nerves. 

What if she knew? What if she already found out? What if she hated him? 

“Rem, it’s alright.” Lily placated, clearly seeing his concern etched onto his face. “Maybe she wasn’t feeling well, or got caught up with something else.”

“She’s never bailed on us before…” James admitted, looking just as worried as Remus was. “Maybe we should check on her?”

“Why don’t we give her tonight; I think after all the shite we put her through this week, she’s allotted one missed date.” Sirius decided, opting to keep his tone light as he teased Remus for his ‘pre-moon angstiness’ as his partners call it.   

“We’ll catch up with her tomorrow.” Lily decided; and Remus and James shared a look of concern as they relented to study for the upcoming Herbology test without you. 

You weren’t really mad at the Gryffindor’s for their decision to end things with you; at least not at first.

People were allowed to change their minds, and you supposed that was the purpose of dating, right? To see if the person you’re interested in is someone you want to keep around indefinitely?

So, people were allowed to change their mind, and that was okay.

You also couldn’t particularly blame them; you were shy, quiet, timid, awkward in most social settings and certainly not as adventurous as them, it was only a matter of time before they grew bored of you. 

So you hadn’t been mad at them, not at first. 

But you were growing increasingly annoyed at their attempts to force themselves within your space. 

You had opted to sit at the Hufflepuff table for breakfast the next morning; there was no sense sitting at the Gryffindor table with them anymore.

But then you couldn’t handle the feeling of your heart splintering every time you heard Sirius’ bark of laughter or Lily’s giggle at something Remus said or that James did. So you quickly scarfed down your toast and grabbed a muffin to shove in your bag before fleeing from the Great Hall.

What you didn’t notice was James noticing you only as you were leaving, looking incredibly worried.

You nearly shrieked when you exited your Astronomy class that you had with the Ravenclaws and slammed into Sirius’ frame.

“There you are, dolly! We missed you this morning!” He proclaimed as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

You quickly collected yourself; heart racing from the scare and then quickly migrating to your throat out of embarrassment and hurt at this familiarity you had with him only to be about to lose it.

“Sorry, I had been running late.” You said quickly as you headed for the stairs; the long-haired boy quickly keeping up with your steps. 

“Were you feeling alright?” He asked you.

“How do you mean?”

Sirius tilted his head slightly as he considered you. “Well, you didn’t show up to the library last night, and then you were running late this morning; that’s not like you.”

A hot frustrated emotion burned in your chest that you weren’t completely accustomed to feeling. 

Wasn’t he the one to say he couldn’t live like this anymore?

It wasn’t fair of you to be frustrated though, which frustrated you even more; he didn’t know that you had shown up to the library last night, nor that you had gotten to the Great Hall on time.

They hadn’t even noticed you this morning. 

And that’s why they were ending things; you were forgettable, ignorable, unnoticeable. 

“I’m fine, Sirius. Thank you.” You said simply, and quickly headed for the girl’s loo in order to shake him off. 

Remus had approached you in Care of Magical Creatures as well, which somehow hurt more.

Perhaps it was because you knew he was going to be the one to tell you that things were over; though you had thought he’d be better than to break up with you in the middle of class. 

“Hey, dove.” He said as he gently nudged your arm with his elbow; watching as you groomed the puffskein on your table. 

“Hey, Remus.” You said quietly, not removing your eyes from the Beast you were working with.

“I missed you last night.” He admitted quietly. 

Did you? You thought petulantly. 

“Sorry.” You murmured instead. 

“You don’t have to be sorry.” He said as he leaned his elbows on your workbench; if it had been any other student, you’re certain Professor O’Brien would have scolded him for not handling the beasts with adequate caution, but Remus seemed to be allowed certain privileges and the puffskein “Kujo” didn’t seem to mind him much. “I just missed you is all.” 

And he was smiling that sweet, soft smile at you and he seemed like he actually meant it which only further contributed to your ire. 

What happened to ripping the bandaid off? Why keep up this affectionate act if it was only going to end?

Remus looked like he was going to say something when the Professor announced the end of class. 

“I’ll catch up with you later.” You offered quickly before you all but threw Kujo back into his pen and took off towards the castle.

The final straw had to be Herbology, though.

You shared Herbology with the Gryffindors, and because you were a new addition - your the four Gryffindor’s all shared a potting bench whilst you worked alongside another Hufflepuff.

Today, however, it appeared that James had other plans.

Before Sadie-Jane could take her seat beside you, James had plopped himself - rather carefully for the notoriously boisterous quidditch chaser, mind you - on the stool beside you.

“Hey, angel.”

Again, with the pet names. 

It felt torturous at this point; part of you wanted to rip the bandaid off yourself.

But you looked over at the sweet, warm, inviting face of James Potter and any resolve to tell him to shove it completely dissipated. He was all messy curls, round frames, and warm eyes.

And you might have been [must have been] mistaken, but you felt you could see anxiety and worry painted in his features.

You supposed breaking up with someone could do that to a person, though.

“Hi Jamie.” You whispered back as you opted to ready your supplies for today’s lesson.

“I was wondering if you were going to come to the game tonight?” He blurted then, looking slightly embarrassed at his outburst. 

Right…the game. The game against Slytherin. The game that would have you sitting between Remus and Lily as they cheered for James and Sirius. That game. 

“I...uhm, well…”

Rip the bandaid off. 

But it was James. 

And you were in class.

And you could see Lily and Remus trying - and failing - to not look like they were watching you and James whilst Sirius had no such qualms and was actively staring at the two of you. 

“Yeah, I’ll…I’ll see.” You offered James, mustering up what you hoped was a convincing enough smile.

You could tell by the divot that appeared in James’ brows that you were not convincing in the slightest.

Thankfully Professor Sprout appeared then, instructing everyone to take their seats for class to begin, and Sadie-Jane came to claim her seat from the Gryffindor. 

You didn’t go to the game that night.

Gryffindor lost. 

And though you didn’t know at the time, James cried, but it wasn’t about losing to Slytherin. 

“So, why are you hiding in the dorms?” Caroline asked as she rolled away from her open magazine on her bed, clearly preferring potential drama you could offer her than whatever was in this week's Witch Weekly. 

“I’m not hiding.” You muttered back, not looking up from your cross-stitch you were working on instead of, you know, dealing with your problems. 

“Right.” Caroline agreed, not sounding like she agreed with you at all. “That’s why you’ve started and quit several hobbies over the weekend and have been going to the kitchen’s to grab food instead of eating in the Great Hall like a normal person.”

You looked over at your half finished gem ‘paint-by-numbers’, the scarf you’d crocheted that looked more like the skin of a messed up snake that had a terrible time shedding, and the guitar you had borrowed from Fenwick and nearly broke in a fit of rage when you couldn’t get it to sound the way you wanted it too.

“I just…can’t face them right now.” You admitted dejectedly.

“I don’t blame you. Helga, have you seen the lot of them? If I’d known they were accepting more I would have made my shot.” She mused as she laid back on her bed.

Grief and jealousy intertwined within you as you thought about them dating anyone else but you.

But you supposed that was their prerogative; they were allowed to change their minds. 

“Yeah well, you may still have a chance.” You muttered, capturing Caroline’s attention.

“What?” She asked quickly, but you didn’t have a chance to answer before there was a knock on the door. 

“Were you expecting anyone?” She asked with a salacious wink, causing you to glare at her.

“If it’s them, I’m not here; please.” You practically begged your roommate as she rolled her eyes and moved to the door to your dorm room. 

“Oh, hello Evans.” Caroline greeted, causing you to scrunch your eyes closed from your place currently hidden from view of the door. 

“Hi! Erm, is Y/N around?” Lily asked, sounding uncharacteristically awkward.

“Uh…no, she’s not in right now. I can let her know you stopped by, though?” Caroline offered.

You heard Lily thank her before Caroline closed the door again. 

“You sure you don’t want them? ‘Cause those Gryffindor’s are fine.” She sighed as she returned to her bed.

She let out a squawk when your pillow made contact with her head. 

Lily stepped out through the barrel to find Sirius and Remus exactly where she had left them (albeit far more tense) as James came running from down the hall where he had been pacing nervously. 

“Well?” James asked.

Lily pursed her lips. “Her roommate said she wasn’t there.”

Remus looked down at the map to the place where your name was etched beside your roommate’s in the seventh year Hufflepuff girls’ dormitory. 

Either the map was faulty [fat chance], or you were avoiding them.

It was official. 

For whatever reason, they were losing you. 

You had somehow managed to avoid the Gryffindor’s all Monday; taking a moment to thank every deity that you only had Divination with the Gryffindor house, and none of your Gryffindor’s had opted to take it.

You wondered if you could call them your Gryffindor’s anymore…

You had run over to the kitchens - all but a hop skip and a jump from your common room - to grab dinner and were stepping back out through the portrait of the pears when you came face to face with Sirius.

“So nice to see you, Y/N; I’d almost forgotten what your face looked like.” He said; his tone taking on a harsh tone you weren’t accustomed to hearing directed at you causing you to wince.

“Pads…” Remus warned from behind him, though he was looking at you just as warily as Sirius was.

As was James and Lily.

Shit. 

“I’m glad to see you’re still eating…” Remus commented dejectedly as he nodded towards your smorgasbord of a plate that Winky had helped prepare for you that now looked horribly unappetising. 

“I…yes. Erm, what are you guys doing here?” You tried.

It had, apparently, been the wrong thing to say.

Sirius let out a derisive scoff. “Cut the bullshit, Y/N. What the hell has gotten into you?”

“Sirius.” Lily warned.

“Would you guys stop?” He barked back at them before returning his burning gaze back to you. “I’m tired of this; of running around the school looking for you, of being disappointed every time you bail on us, of having to hold James whilst he cries because you’ve let him down, of being lied to. So I’m going to ask again - what the hell has gotten into you?”

“Nothing has gotten into me…” You tried to argue, though it sounded feeble even to your own ears. 

James had cried? You made James cry…

The disappointment in Remus’ eyes, the concern in Lily’s, the anger in Sirius’, the sadness in James’... it was too much, too much, too much. 

“You’re going to stand there and lie to my sodding face?” Sirius asked incredulously.

“Sirius, stop it.” James ordered; his voice far more severe than you have ever heard from him. “Angel, please. Just…just tell us what’s wrong. Tell me what I can do to fix this.”

Any sadness that had settled in your chest bubbled into anger at his word choice.

“Fix this?” You repeated back to him. “Why? Why bother fixing anything if you’re all just going to leave me!?” 

The four Gryffindor’s stood staring at you with different levels of bemusement; Lily and Sirius at your words, Remus and James at you having raised your voice for the first time…well…ever. 

“What do you mean ‘leave you’?” Lily asked cautiously, causing you to scoff. 

“I heard you guys - in the library.”

“In the library? But…you never showed?” James asked.

“Yes, I did - and I heard you guys talking about me, so I decided to stay out of your way thinking that maybe I’d make it easier on you all. But then you’ve spent the past week absolutely torturing me; showing up at my classes, trying to sit beside me, showing up to my dorm room like you weren’t just biding your time.”

“Y/N, what exactly did you hear us say in the library?” Remus queried.

“That you couldn’t do this anymore! That someone ‘had to tell me’ because it was ‘getting out of hand’. That you couldn’t possibly live like this anymore and hopefully I’d just understand. And I do! I do understand; but what I don’t understand is what the point of chasing me around the bloody castle is if you-”

“Whoa, whoa. Okay, alright just breathe, darling, I’m sorry.” Lily attempted to placate, holding her hands up as she approached like you were some kind of feral cat.

You sort of acted like one when you swatted her hands away from you.

“No! No, it’s not fair! I’m sorry if I’m too much, or if I’m not enough; I get it, okay? I do; sometimes it doesn’t work out and that’s fair but if that’s how you feel then just leave me alone!” You shouted back, feeling the tears trailing down your neck at this point. 

“Y/N, please, listen okay? Just relax and we can talk this out.” Lily tried again as James let out a pained breath that sounded awfully close to a sob. 

“Remus, please.” He begged, turning his pooling hazel eyes to his scarred boyfriend who was looking at you in abject horror. “Please.”

“Y/N, you’ve misunderstood, dove. I-I’m sorry, It’s my fault, but what you heard…that wasn’t us talking about breaking up with you. I… It was about me.”

You wiped angrily at your face and set your now cold plate on the ground - you weren’t hungry anymore anyways. “It’s not you, it’s me?” You sneered half-heartedly.

“No, no…Merlin, Y/N I- I’m a werewolf. Okay? I have lycanthropy, I was bitten when I was four; that’s where I go once a month and why I get…weird. We were talking about the fact that I needed to tell you because it was hurting us to keep it from you. Dovey, I’m so sorry you’ve been so upset. Please, please take a breath for me.” 

You held your hands over your eyes as you tried to control your breathing.

Sketchiness…tension…disappearances… 

“You’re going to have to say something to her, Rem; this is getting out of hand”

“Can’t we just ignore this? Just for a little longer? I mean, it can’t be that bad?”

“Y/N’s so sensitive though… How do you tell her something like that?”

“It has to come from Remus.” 

“I don’t bloody care how we tell her, but we have to say something; I cannot keep living like this, it’s exhausting.”

“I’m sorry you guys. I thought we could ignore it but…I don’t think we can anymore.”

“I think we ought to just rip the bandaid off and hope she understands.”

“I’m a werewolf. I have lycanthropy…that’s where I go once a month.” 

“Please…baby, please say something. I-I’m so sorry.” You heard Sirius plead quietly; his shaky voice in stark contrast from the way he’d been barking at you just moments before. 

You pulled your wet hands away from your eyes to see all four of them looking at you with nothing but worry and heartache on their faces; though none looked quite as vulnerable as Remus did. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He whispered.

You sucked in a shuddering breath as more tears fell. “So…you don’t hate me?”

Remus let out a disbelieving laugh when you heard what sounded suspiciously like a sob from James.

“No! No, no dove, that- I’m rather quite in love with you, you know?” He pressed, daring to step closer to you. “Do you hate me?” He asked then, tone turning vulnerable once more.

“No.” You whined emphatically. 

“Oh my poor girl.” Sirius whined sympathetically. 

“Can I hug you? Please?” James all but begged, stepping in front of you with his arms open already; poised for you to say…

“Yes.”

You’re not sure he even waited for the affirmation to leave your lips before he had you encased in his arms.

You shoved your face into his chest and fisted his shirt in your hands; pulling him as close as you possibly could to your person. 

You weren’t sure how long you’d been standing there - directly in front of the kitchens and awfully close to your own common room - sniffling into James’ shirt as he sniffled into your hair, but you heard a sniffle come from beside you.

You turned to see Sirius’ grey eyes shiny and red as he looked at you imploringly. 

“I’m so sorry I yelled at you, sweetness. I’m such an arse I just…I-”

“It’s okay.” You whispered.

“No it’s not.” Sirius argued immediately. “I…I get like that sometimes; just horribly defensive and then I go on the offensive first. I didn’t even give you a chance to talk to us before I was attacking you; I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Siri.” You offered again, holding a hand out to him which he took readily. 

“I can’t believe you’ve spent this whole week believing we wanted nothing to do with you.” Lily whined from your other side. “I’m so sorry we left you feeling like that, darling girl.”

Though you were quite content in your muscled hideaway, you pulled away from James’ chest to wipe at your face again, feeling awfully self-conscious of how blotchy your face must look from your tears.

“I shouldn’t have assumed.” You admitted shamefully; voice scratchy from both the shouting and the crying.

“The way you described it, I can understand how our conversation sounded to you, babygirl.” Sirius contended. 

“So…you’re really not leaving me?” You asked again.

“I feel like I should be asking you that, dove.” Remus replied.

“Why would I be leaving you?”

Lily shared a knowing look with Sirius and James who in turn moved their gazes to Remus with expressions reading “see?”. 

“Not everyone would be accepting of a werewolf.”

You felt your eyebrows furrow as you looked at the others as if saying “are you hearing this right now?” 

“But…I love you? I…I don’t even know what else to say…I just… love you so, that’s fine.”

“I just love you so that’s fine.” Sirius repeated as he looked at Remus arrogantly. “I knew I should have placed a bet on how she’d respond; I’d have made five galleons!”

“We were not going to bet on how our girlfriend would respond to Remus’ furry little problem, Sirius.” Lily chided as she playfully swatted at his shoulder. 

“Besides,” James added, pulling you closer into his side again. “You would have lost because I don’t think any of us would have bet that she’d misinterpret our disastrous conversation as us trying to leave her and then spend the week believing we were waiting for the perfect time to break up with her only for us all to shout and cry when we realised what happened.”

“No, that's true.” Sirius agreed readily, looking back at you with sympathy. “I really am sorry, baby.”

“Me too.” Lily continued.

“Me most of all.” Remus added.

“I knew we should have gone looking for her that night.” James mused aloud mostly to himself. “Could have saved us all a lot of heartache.” 

“Yeah, yeah Prongs. You’re right again; I’m sure we’ll never live it down.” Sirius said with a playful eye roll. 

“How can we make it up to you?” Lily asked as she placed her hand at the juncture of your neck and shoulder and traced shapes along the column of your neck with her thumb.

You shook your head shyly and looked at your feet. “It’s not necessary guys.”

“Nonsense.” Sirius scoffed.

“Let’s start with some dinner, yeah? And maybe a cwtch in the boys’ dorm upstairs?” Remus offered to the group, though he seemed to be waiting for you to answer.

You nodded at him and he opened his arms in invitation which you accepted readily.

“I’m sorry, dovey.” He whispered into your hair.

“I’m sorry too, Rem.”

“Let’s never fight again.” James decided enthusiastically as Lily and Sirius stepped through the pear portrait into the kitchens.

“Sounds good to me, bubs.” Remus agreed as he bent down to press a kiss to James’ lips whilst keeping you secured to his side.

You were sure that after this week, these four wouldn’t be letting you out of their reach.

After this week, you weren’t sure you minded that at all.

[thesturniolos]

make you mine ~ m.sturniolo x reader (she/her)

જ⁀➴. summary: i mean you know what they say, keep your friends close but always keep your enemies closer- just how much closer?

જ⁀➴. warnings: filthy smut, fingering, dumbification, degradation, praise, rope bunny, spitting, spanking (i’m sorry), dom!matt and sub!matt, jealousy, brat!reader, a little angsty (cause yk i fw that too much)

જ⁀➴. this is for @annamcdonalds67 challenge!! i will be basing this fic off of madison beer’s ‘make you mine’ !

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

‘i wanna lay you down, i wanna string you up, i wanna make

you mine.’

do you know that feeling when you’re drunk, so drunk that your mind feels like a fog? like a layer of cloud and mist has settled into the crevices of your brain, seeping into your every thought. a fog so powerful that it alters your visions and brings hidden secrets to the tip of your tongue, the kind of secrets that would change something, anything once and for all.

and in that moment, the feeling of freedom outweighs all the consequences of letting that secret out. slowly, my fogged brain pieces together to allow my hands to fiddle with the padlocks of the secret. to untie the tangled chains, to swivel the tiny little key around on the pads of my fingers, to push the blade into the hole in the chest.

and just like that, a secret sworn to never be spread dribbles down the edges of the box and every thought telling me, yelling actually, that what i’m about to do is wrong is etched away by a metaphorical marker and nothing will stop me from what i want to do and what i’m going to do.

the dizzying noise of a thousand people, some my friends, most of them random people you’d find at classic LA parties, is silenced by the sound of my beating heart and the blood pumping viciously around my body.

it’s the kind of passion that comes from envy, that comes from jealousy, that comes from resent so blinding that every step you take feels like it could break the marble floor underneath your feet. or that steam pushing out of your ears could be visible.

it’s the kind of jealousy that comes from seeing a person you care so deeply about in a corner with some bitch who knows nothing about him.

like- she doesn’t know what he likes and doesn’t like, she doesn’t know that he has three books by his bed and that one of them has her initials carved into the fourteenth page. she would never know that his own couch has an imprint from where my fucking ass sits everyday. like she wouldn’t know that their shared ‘hatred’ wasn’t actually real. just like how she doesn’t know that he is not on the market and she has absolutely no fucking place in the world to have her wretched bones on his skin.

you’d assume that in a situation like this time slows like a movie but it doesn’t. it speeds and i can’t keep track of anyone around me or what song is playing or even what drink is sloshing onto my hand from my cup. i just know exactly where it’s going to go though.

before i step foot into the beaming light of the kitchen, two hands grab my hips and swivel me around. two hands that won’t be there in a minute if they don’t leave my body.

im met with a pair of very similar eyes and i suddenly feel very guilty for thinking what i thought a second ago.

‘hey! where have you been all night? me and nick have been looking for you literally everywhere.’ chris’ eyes look concerned but his smile is still in full tact.

‘i’ve been talking to people, catching up-‘

‘did something happen? cause you know, you look like you’re gonna kill somebody’ he laughs, his hands leaving my hips and i brush the area off where he touched, holding my head high to hopefully hide the seeving look on my face.

‘just people liking to get up in my business, you know how it is. ‘ i nod, sipping from cup, immediately regretting because actually wtf is in it.

‘okay, well- me and nick were about to leave, we’re just tryna round you and matt up.’ my teeth clench together at the sound of his name.

‘yeah, i don’t know chris. i might go home later, feels like we only just got here!’

‘it’s literally 2am, we’ve been here 4 and half hours already-‘

“come on, chris! when do you ever get to go to a party as big as this? go find a girl or something- give yourself a good time!’ his eyebrows furrow and he shrugs his shoulders.

“i guess so-“

“you gotta get over that bitch ex of yours anyways, perhaps this could be your perfect time.” and with that, he was fully listening. his shoulders now standing upright and his posture as straight as possible.

“you’re right, y/n. oh, look- there’s matt! guess he’s already a step ahead of me and you.”

my head spirals around is quickly, i think i saw stars. big, white, angry shooting stars. the sight of his hands clenching onto her ass, pushing her against a kitchen counter. her dress slowly riding up her thighs, thanks to his legs prying them open.

and with that, something ticks inside me.

i’ve been jealous before. hell i’ve been the most jealous in the room. but have you ever been so jealous that a rack of knives looked appealing and the bat that hangs above the wall in the living room looked handy dandy to do the exact job you needed to?

why was it always the bitchiest of girls who all the guys hate -but apparently not so because she’s tugging on one of their dicks by saturday.

well guess what? two can play at that game, bitch.

i turn around to find a good looking guy, not so attractive that i could become attached but not ugly enough for me to be gagging when i run my hands along his dick.

‘you. come with me.” i gesture, my fingers curving in to lure him into me.

his brows furrow and he scoffs, “why?”

“cause i fucking said so, come with me.” i drag his hand and he turns back to look at this friends with a sudden bright smile.

our hands are clenched together as i pull him through a small crowd towards the kitchen. the urge to instantly jump on him to rile matt up is incredibly overwhelming but desperation isn’t always the best look on me.

my hand reaches for a red cup, filled with what looks like classic punch and i pour it down the sink to fill it up with straight vodka and hand it to him. “drink up, buttercup.”

his eyes widen but he obeys and i watch as he drinks every last sip, my fists clenching from the idea of what’s going on directly behind me.

“ngh’ matt-“ i hear the girl moan and my head twists to see his eyes glaring into mine whilst sucking red marks onto her neck.

i scoff and drag my guy closer to me, all whilst maintaining eye contact to lick a stripe up his neck and shove my right hand up his shirt to feel his torso. the guy did have toned abs, i could feel from how rock hard he was against my fingers but unlucky for him, i was completely and utterly distracted by the guy i hated so fucking much opposite me.

hate so pure that the sound of his name made goosebumps run down my neck and my blood bubble under my skin. my eyes would sting from the gaze of his eyes, my eyelids burning from refusing to shut. it was hate so pure that seeing a girl on his arm made my throat run dry and my words choke. the rings on my fingers digging into my palms and my teeth scratching against one another as i clenched my jaw to see the hickies scattered on his chest.

my tongue caresses the skin of his neck, latching over what i think is his sweet spot, as he moves his hands down my body. i smirk as i see matt latch onto the bitch’s figure tighter, desperate to outweigh whatever i was doing.

i look up at the guy and say, “do whatever you want to me, right here, right now.” his eyes light up and his breath halts slightly.

“but we’re in here with so many people-“

“i don’t care.” my head turning back to look at matt who is still looking at me, a grimacing smile speaking across my face which makes his brows furrow deeper into his skin.

the guy grabs my leg to push it onto his, my front up against him and he latches our mouths together, his tongue immediately creating a space between my lips to enter.

after a solid minute of awkwardly making out in front of what felt like 30 people, a hand pushes my leg down from the guys hip and grabs my hand to pull me away from the crowd.

i’d be stupid if i said i didn’t know it was matt, of course i knew it was him. after all, he knew i had full control over him even if we were just enemies.

sweating bodies collided with mine and i squeeze my body close together to avoid elbows to the face. my heels making me stumble a little, alcohol still running through my system.

i look down to find a step up a winding staircase, a classic LA mansion.

20 steps felt like half a lifetime as matt still desperately drags me up them, whispering incoherent, angry remarks under his breath. until finally he makes it to the top and barges through the first bedroom he sees.

i enter quickly after him, my hand falling to my side as he slams the door behind us. i didn’t have time to react before he pushes my shoulder into the wall behind me, digging his nails into my skin.

his eyes are practically black with anger, his eyebrows fallen to his eyelids yet a disgusting grin on his face. his tongue slides along his teeth, before he spits, ” what the fuck do you think you’re playing at?”

“whatever you’re playing, i mean it’s only fair.” i squeak back, my breath a little taken away from the sudden collide with my back and the brick wall. and of course the incredibly small space between our lips and the fact that our noses are touching.

“that’s not how this works around here.”

“then how does it? you get to go around with every girl in our state and i sit in the background watching?” what was that even supposed to mean?

he removes a hand from my shoulder and shakes his head, “people around here know they can’t touch you. they just know that, sweetheart. i assumed you would too.”

“and you’re allowed to have that bitch all over you? tell me, matt. how is this really fucking fair?” his hand comes up to my throat to clench it, light enough so i’m not choking but hard enough so that i’m gagged, my head lifted up a little.

“because how else am i supposed to get you to fucking take notice that i want you.”

i furrow my eyebrows, i try to speak but he clenches harder and the words don’t form in my mouth.

“every girl i have i imagine it’s you, every time i’m fucking a girl i imagine it’s your pussy im in, i imagine it’s your lips that im sucking on.”

i look dead in his eyes, my lashes blurring my vision slightly, his hooded gaze mesmerising me as i take in his every word

“every mean comment i made and every remark you made back riled me up. i knew it, you knew it, everyone else fucking knew it. im fed up of this bullshit circle we’ve had going on- i need you to see that you’re mine. when i saw you and that bitch in the kitchen, i smiled because i knew i got you. i got you to the point where you fucking admitted to me that im in your brain, you want me just as much as i want you baby.”

his tongue pokes out to lick a strip along my lip, he stands back to look at me in such a vulnerable position. my legs squeezed together in my little black dress and his hand wrapped around my neck as i look up at him with teary eyes and a dumb little smile on my face. it was just all he had ever wanted.

his hand leaves my neck, reaching up to grab my jaw and push my lips against his. a messy, tongue-filled kiss. his tongue sucks onto mine and i moan into his mouth, my legs moving forward to push him backwards.

he hums into the kiss, moving his head to suck on my lips whilst treading towards the bed in which he eventually pulls us onto. my legs scramble to straddle his lap and loop my hands around his neck.

he pulls away to pull the straps of my dress down as i look into his eyes, if somebody had told me two years ago that i was straddling matt’s fucking lap i probably would’ve slapped you around the face.

“do you know how long i’ve wanted you baby?” he says, yanking down my black dress to reveal a lacy, practically see-through bra that pushes up my boobs to accentuate them especially for matt’s eyes.

i shake my head, my hands clasping onto the hairs on the nape of his neck.

“too fucking long.” he rips off my bra, my mouth wide from how easily he broke the fabric, a loud groan leaving his mouth as he launches forward to suck my hard, pointed nipples.

my head thrown back as i grind against his jean pants, desperate to relieve the feeling in between my thighs. the tent of his pants brushing roughly against my region making me pull his head closer into my tits.

he pulls away to stare up at me, already looking a little disheveled, as he chuckles slightly, “you’re so fucking needy, who knew a pretty baby with a mouth as big as yours could be so desperate for my cock?”

i whimper at the sound of his patronising voice, my hips moving faster as he speaks but the loss of the soft pad of his tongue of nipples making my eyes water a little.

he grabs my jaw to force me to look at him, his fore finger and his middle finger squeezing together closely as he pushes them towards my lips. “open up, slut.”

i open my mouth for him and he guides his fingers into my mouth and instinctively i suck on them, my eyes slowly fluttering shut and i hum onto them, wishing it was something else.

the tent underneath me twitching even under all this fabric and the hands looped around his neck untie to slowly run down his torso all the way to the zip on his jeans.

“you want it all don’t you baby? you act so tough but really you’re just a whore for me and my dick. it’s not even been five minutes and you’re already scrambling to undo my pants. that’s it baby, let me use all your pretty parts.” i pull them down to reveal his wet boxers and his huge dick.

this man wasn’t just packing a couple inches, it was enough to bruise the back of my throat and my cervix. my eyes light up as i hold it through the cotton of his underwear, drool begging to leave my mouth.

he leans back slowly, his elbows digging into the plush mattress underneath of us as he guides me closer towards his cock, pushing away stray hairs that curl around the frame of my face.

i pull down his boxers for his dick bounce straight up and hit his stomach, pre cum leaking from his bright red, swollen tip. and i hungrily scramble to grab hold of it, his words replaying in my head, i’m just a whore for him.

my hands smooth the veins along the bottom of his dick, slowly making my way up to kiss his oozing tip and i feel his body shudder underneath me. without a second thought, i shove his tip in my mouth and suck his cum off. my mouth hollows and i move my head up and down, determined to get some noise out of his pretty mouth.

“that’s it pretty girl, just like that- mmm” his head is thrown back and his hands come round to cradle my head, pushing me further onto his dick.

i moan which sends vibrations down his cock, his tip growing in my mouth as i swirl my tongue around it, the gagging sounds echoing in the room, riling matt up more and more.

“fucking take it all baby- oh fuck, i know you can” he winces out, the grip on my hair tightening and i smile against the girth of his dick doing exactly what he says, hollowing my mouth and sucking all the way to his bone. his hips shove up to hit the back of my throat and my eyes flutter shut, the full feeling in my throat overwhelming me.

he guides my head by bobbing my head up and down in time with his hip thrusts, the sounds of my gargling getting progressively louder as he becomes more determined to cum down my throat.

a sudden halt to his erotic sounds, i feel my head being pulled up, a ‘pop’ sound coming from my mouth from the sudden loss of his dick in my throat. he laughs, smoothing my cheek with his thumb before gently slapping it and grabbing my chin so i look at him.

“you gonna let me make you feel good?” i frantically nod my head, the heat between my legs practically burning a hole thru my panties now.

“that’s my girl, you’re mine. aren’t you?” i nod and he tuts, “ use your words.”

“i’m yours.” and that’s all he needed before he picks me up like i’m a fucking feather weighing nothing more than a couple pounds and throws me onto the bed whilst he twists around to stand up off the bed, looking down at me.

“you know it, my little slut.” he pulls down my dress finally, he didn’t get to finish underdressing me cause the idea of finally tasting him was too much. but now that i can feel the cold air hitting the most private of places and his glare blazing up and down my body, i feel shy.

my elbows hover over my boobs as i try and scrunch up a little but matt’s hands pry them away and he spreads my legs before discarding my little black dress on the floor, i’m only left with my matching lace panties.

he licks his lips, his glare fixating on the wet patch created on my underwear, just for him. as he holds my thighs apart, he blows gently onto the fabric making it instantly cold and i shift up the bed a little, whimpering.

“this all for me, baby?” he looks up at me, caressing my thighs gently. the cold metal of his rings making my goosebumps more and more apparent.

“mhm.” my eyes flutter shut and i push against the force of matt’s hands, becoming increasingly desperate for any kind of pressure on my pussy. “please.”

“please what?” he smirks, his touch on my thighs now so light you wouldn’t even believe it was there. it was another level of teasing that made the core of your very stomach fuzzy and the lack of any touch adds to the sick feeling you have.

“just do something, anything.” he snaps when i say that, flipping me around quickly so that my body slaps against the mattress, my ass on full show to him, my thing not doing much too cover my the cheeks of my ass.

“i wanna feel the rush, i wanna taste the crush, i wanna get you going.”

the sharp sting of fabric ripping against my delicate skin and sudden gasp mixed with the breaking of sweet lace makes matt chuckle in the background before placing a harsh slap to my ass, sending me into the air as it was so unexpected.

“you gonna be good for me?” he smooths over where he slapped, secretly wishing it will make a bruise.

“yes, yes i’ll be good.” i beg, wanting literally anything.

as his fingers move closer towards my wetness, he suddenly moves away quickly before getting up and searching the room.

i look up and frown, “what the fuck are you doing?” i whisper a little, upset that he looks like he’s about to leave.

he doesn’t say anything but pauses once he gets to the drawer in the closet and laughs before turning around to reveal a belt.

“what are you doing? this isn’t even your room.” i say, relaxing yet still confused.

he walks over to me and forces my chin up at him, “keep speaking in that bratty fucking tone and i will leave you high and dry”

“well you won’t even let me get high so what effect is that gonna have-“ before i could finish my sentence he covers my mouth with one hand and uses the other to turn me around so my head is shoved into the pillows of the bed. he scrambles to grab my hands, pushing them against my back and fiddling with the belt.

“just you fucking wait and see, little angel.” he twists them around my wrists and tightens them so i can’t get out without any help.

his hands letting going of mine before i feel them suddenly exactly where i need them. a singular finger pressing down onto my bundle of nerves and my whole body jumps with just a simple touch, a pornographic moan leaving my mouth.

“does that feel good baby” i whimper back a desperate ‘yes’ and wriggle against the pad of his finger wanting him to move oh, so badly.

“want me to move my hand, darling?” i nod my head frantically hoping he can see me which i gather he can considering the low laugh that leaves his mouth and the sudden movement of his finger dragging down slowly through my folds.

“you want me here?”

“yes, yes. i want you there. i want you to move.”

“you want me to move?”

“please.”

“there it is.” and with that, the gentle movements turned into quick, hard thrusts. his two fingers sliding through my hole at an insane pace, not letting me readjust for one second, making my whole body lift from the bed, my hands shaking in the belt he tied me up in.

the cold metal of his rings mixing with the warm wetness coating his fingers, the sensation was immense. all before he flips me over and presses his mouth onto my clip sending me into fucking sub space.

“oh my fucking god! matt-“

he licks and kisses at my clit at a gentle pace all while his fingers strum in and out of my hole at an alarming speed, it’s a wonder he doesn’t have arm cramp even after one minute.

my ass doesn’t stay on the bed and my whole body is jittering at the sudden overwhelming sensation. the flicks of his tongue and the curving of his fingers making sure he hits my sweet spots makes the bundle in my stomach tighten up.

“please matt, i’m gonna cum!”

he carries on, his feasting at my pussy getting progressively more intense, like a starved man. he enters another finger into my hole, stretching me perfectly so that i am shaped for him.

he breathes against my heat, “let go, baby.”

and with that, i did. sweat running from my back and forehead, my tied hands desperately grabbing onto the leather and my toes clenching over his shoulders.

he licks me clean, pressing one last kiss to my clit which makes me jolt as he laughs a little to himself seeing my messy figure on the bed.

“you did so well, baby.” i smile at him, his head coming close to mine to kiss my lips.

“now you gonna help me out sweetheart?”

i nod and he turns me around to take me out of the tied belts and he kisses the red marks from where i pulled against the restraint. “you liked these?” i shake my head and he laughs.

i pull myself up from the bed and onto matt’s lap to face him, i latch my lips onto his and hook my hands around his neck pulling him closer to me. my naked body fitting perfectly around his warm body.

he moves his hands down my body, caressing my curves and humming against our kiss as i pull away and look down to stroke his dick to which he kisses and pulls himself into my neck.

i move myself up his body to push myself down onto his hard shaft, as he winces and throws his head backwards, moaning my name.

i pull at his hairs and rock my hips against him and watch his demeanour change as his hips desperately rutt against mine and i forcefully push my hands onto his thighs so that he’s restricted.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he groans as my grinding against him slows.

“taking control.” his eyes widen and i push myself up further so that i can plunge further onto his dick. my nails digging into his thighs as i watch his breathing get faster and moans leave his mouth.

“that’s not - ngh- how it works.” he argues with me which doesn’t last for long when i start to kiss his neck and suck on the lobes of ears in which his thrusts up into me become more persistent.

“i’m gonna cum-“

“not until i cum.” i say, chasing my high with him as i hear him whine into my ear, panting a little too.

“please, just let me.” he hugs me closer, my boobs crushed against his chest as he begins to rocks back and forth with me, moaning and groaning with his head in the air. so much for tough guy, huh?

“cum with me.” i bounce up and down as he thrusts up into me for the last time before releasing his cum, painting my walls as it oozes out of me as i collapse onto the bed next to us.

our heavy breathing and hearts beating is the only thing that can be heard.

matt’s hand slowly moves to bring me closer to him, i smile as i look up at his tired state.

“you changed quickly, mr tough guy to oh please! please, let me cum! “ he shakes his head and covers my mouth.

“shut up, you wouldn’t fucking let me .”

i laugh at him and he picks me up to squeeze me, so much for being enemies, huh?

“so-“

“you’re mine now right? like for real?” he’s not looking at me, rather picking at his nails.

i giggle and press my head against his forehead and nod, “of course.”

hope you all liked !! too many fucking words :)

tags: @wisteral @evieolo @ev3rgreenxtrees @estelleswrld @recklessmatt @recklesssturniolo @realuvrrr @urfavstromboli @obscurechris @poopydroopt @plasticferal @lilasturns @lovingmattysposts @m4ttslvr @mattandmilds @muwapsturniolo @mattsgirlfriendlol @kirby0strombolli @kvtie2 @kikisturnioloo @kqyslyho3 @klarasmith @sturnioloshacker @strniohoeee @sturniolopepsi @sturniolosstar @sturniolossmut @mattslolita @zooweemamas @chrattenthusiast @chrissgirlsstuff @bernardsbendystraws @ducksturniolo @dsturniolo @deatthmatch @fruitglazed @hearts4sturniolo @hawaiihasmyheart @heartsforchrisandmatt @hoesformatt @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @inlovewchris @ihateeveryone357474 @ilovemattsturn @nicksmainbitch @noellesturniolo @yurtrrrr @mattsgirlfriendlol @mattsfaked

[imagine-you]

closer to where I started [Logan/Reader]

Summary: Sequel to won't somebody come take me home? All you want to do is shake off the memories of the past and move forward with your Logan, but an old friend of Wade's threatens to disrupt everything. It turns out your universe isn't quite through with you and neither is the person who hurt you. You'll not only have to fight a new enemy, but you'll also have to rescue the Logan who broke your heart. Of course, your Logan would never let you go without him, and he's also hellbent on making sure the other Logan knows you've moved on. Word Count: 11.1k Author's Note: This fic may contain: protective Logan, protective Wade, Cable, crazy amounts of pop culture references courtesy of Wade, surprise cameos!, jealous Logan, rescue missions, possessive behavior, and some spice (in that case, minors DNI.)

When I'm With You I'm Home 'verse

won't somebody come take me home? // all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me

Read On AO3

Life post-Void proved to be in turns exhilarating and challenging. Now, you were in an entirely different universe and with a completely different team. You had a family, dysfunctional and crazy, but still yours. And of course, most important of all, you had Logan.  

The two of you were still navigating the first few unsure steps of your relationship. You were falling more and more in love with him with every passing second, and you couldn't help but catalog all the little differences that set him apart from the first Logan in your life. The other Logan, as you had started to think of him. 

Before, you were used to an empty bed after sex and feeling like you were having to coerce the other Logan into anything approaching a meaningful conversation. Now, the new Logan in your life, the better Logan, pulled you close after you were both spent and held you all night long. He let you talk about whatever came to mind and offered his own feelings and views without ever once making you feel like he was merely tolerating having a conversation with you.  

The other Logan never wanted to go out or spend any quality time together. He never brought you gifts or remembered your favorite foods or any other little thing that might have shown you he cared about you. Your Logan cooked for you and bought your favorite dessert and showed how much he truly cared about you in every tiny little interaction.  

You navigated past awkward first dates into other stages of your relationship. You got to know your Logan, really know him, and that was something you never felt with the other Logan. You were always left unsure, wanting, longing with the other Logan, but your Logan made sure you were completely confident and fulfilled with your relationship.  

Best of all, your Logan believed in you. In your universe, you had been relegated to the b-team of the X-Men, but now you felt like a valued member of whatever Wade called his team. Be it X-Force or X-Men adjacent, you knew that you could trust them, and they would have your back. You knew they didn't think your powers were useless and actually counted on you to help them. Logan had made sure of that.  

"So, this Negasonic Teenage Warhead, and that's actually her name, you're sure?" You checked with Wade, waiting for his nod of agreement, before continuing. "She wants our help because your large metal friend is in trouble." 

"Colossus, sure," Wade confirmed, checking over the guns he was bringing with him.  

"Who's he even fighting?" You thought a guy who was solid steel would have trouble finding an enemy he couldn't just knock out with a punch.  

"Some douchenozzle named Riptide, apparently," Wade informed you with a shrug of his shoulders. "He spins around and throws bones out of his body or something," he continued, sounding unbothered by the sheer absurdity of his words.  

"Great," Logan huffed, keeping his eyes on the road. "We've got a human tornado on the loose." 

When Logan pulled the car to a stop in the middle of a ruined street, you thought he wasn't too far off in his description. Cars were twisted on their sides and blood was splattered across various surfaces. Windows had shattered and stores were missing walls. You couldn't see anyone at first, but then you realized what you thought was another piece of a car was actually Wade's friend.  

"There," you told him, pointing towards Colossus. He was currently lying in a crater, but you could see that he was slowly beginning to move. 

"Fret not, my robust metal friend, I'm here to save your day," Wade called as he got out of the car. 

You heard Colossus groan, and you couldn't even tell if it was because he was in pain or because of Wade.  

"Think I can just drive away?" Logan asked, glancing over at you. "We can just leave him here, right? How long do you think it'll take before he shows up again?" 

"Knowing Wade? Not very long," you answered, leaning over to press a kiss to Logan's cheek. "Let's get out there and do some vigilante shit or whatever Wade calls it." 

"Trademark T-Swift!" Wade called, nodding approvingly at you.  

"For fuck's sake," Logan groaned, before he slipped his cowl over his head and got out of the car. You felt a smirk tug at your lips at the sight before you and opted to stay in the car for just a moment as you watched Logan approach Wade and Colossus. He was starting to unsheathe his claws, and you couldn't help but take him in in all his glory.  

That was another thing that your Logan was better at than the other Logan. You mentioned once that you found him sexy in the cowl and now he wore it every time you had to fight a bad guy.  

You tried to tamp down on your grin as you got out of the car. When you approached the group, it sounded a lot like Wade was trying to get information out of Colossus.  

“What the hell happened here? Did you eat Taco Bell again?” Wade asked, reaching out to pat Colossus’ stomach.  

Colossus reached out to halt Wade’s touch. “The Riptide is a formidable opponent,” he answered.  

You noticed a man dressed in a suit beginning to approach you and the others.  

"Is that our guy?" You asked, pointing towards the man.  

"Yes," Colossus confirmed with a solemn nod of his head. "And who are you?" He wondered, frowning at you.  

"Y/N," you introduced yourself, holding out your hand for him to shake. You were intimidated by how huge and heavy his hand felt, but the gentle way he shook your hand put you at ease.  

"Piotr Rasputin," he offered in return.  

"Rasputin? I used to know a girl with that last name," you mused as you watched Riptide approach. You could see him begin to spin, gaining momentum and speed as he got closer. 

"Stay back," Piotr warned, shaking his head. "Riptide is very deadly. He's already killed several today." 

Piotr tensed his shoulders before running towards Riptide, only to be knocked back again.  

"Oh, get up, you're embarrassing me," Wade hissed, reaching out to help Piotr up. "You took on the Juggernaut!" Wade reminded Piotr, grabbing him by the shoulders and attempting to shake some sense into him. "And you're telling me you can't take this walking Beyblade? Get back in there!" Wade commanded before giving Piotr a slap on the ass.  

Piotr grumbled something under his breath before starting to approach Riptide again. As Riptide got closer, Piotr planted his feet and attempted to stay in place. You could see flakes of metal begin to chip off as he was pushed backwards and you realized that Riptide would rip Piotr apart if something wasn't done.  

"Okay, new plan," Wade decided, pulling free one of his guns. He shot at Riptide, but every bullet was deflected, since he was spinning too fast for them to hit. "Fuck!" He barked before dropping the guns and grabbing his katana that had been strapped to his back. "Maximum effort," he grunted before running into battle. 

Logan lowered himself to the ground before charging at Riptide. You saw him try to leap at Riptide, but he was thrown back, taking out a partially crumbled wall with him. Deadpool had managed to get a little closer, but it was only because you realized he was getting pulled in by the vacuum Riptide was creating. Wade was doing his best to slash and stab, but it might have been a little harder for him when his limbs were on the verge of being ripped away.  

"Shit, shit, shit," you chanted as you moved forward. You held your hands out, concentrating on Riptide. You had only gotten better with your powers in the time that you had escaped from the Void. You had felt lighter, less burdened, and much more in touch with the push and pull of your forcefields and erasing yourself out of visible existence. Now, you could even make your forcefields invisible, where before they shown a faint blue, shimmering in the air.  

Still, you didn't know if you could contain Riptide, but if you didn't do something soon, he would dismember Wade, flay Piotr, and you didn't even want to know what damage he could do to Logan.  

You weren't going to let it get that far.  

You watched Riptide's movements and began to form a forcefield around him, careful to make sure Wade wasn't ensnared as well. Riptide didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong until Wade dropped to the ground. You could see him begin to heal as he clutched at his arm where it was dangling from his shoulder, barely hanging on.  

You were struggling to contain Riptide, but you were determined to keep him in the little bubble you had created for him. He hurled something at the forcefield and you could feel it like a hit to the chest, but you didn't let up. He began to spin faster, taking shots at his new prison, but not able to break it.  

"Holy shit, girl," you heard Wade exclaim as he rushed to join you. "I've got to get you to hunt Pokémon with me sometime. I'm gonna get you to nab me a Tornadus." 

"Shut up," Logan huffed as he walked over towards Piotr and helped him up.  

"Not that I don't appreciate the support, but what the hell are we going to do with him? I can't do this forever." 

Riptide was finally slowing down and you realized that he had a hand to his chest. He was panting and fell to his knees.  

"He's running out of air," Logan pointed out, carefully approaching Riptide. "He sucked it all up in that vacuum he created." 

"Okay, so let the little sucker suffocate," Wade bargained, rotating his newly healed arm.  

There was a ripple in the air beside you and you turned to see someone stepping out of a portal.  

You weren't really sure what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t a man who looked like he was dressed for war. He was wearing combat boots and had various weapons holstered to his thighs, waist, and chest. He had scars on his face and arms as well as a stony expression that would have deterred anyone from fucking with him. You weren't phased by that, but the metal arm and glowing left eye did give you a bit of pause.  

The man reached into your forcefield with his metal arm and placed a collar around Riptide's neck. As Riptide slumped to the ground, drained, you brought a hand up to your chest. There was a dull ache that had taken up residence there that didn't go away until the man pulled his arm out of your forcefield. You had never seen anyone get through one of your forcefields before and you didn't like it.  

You saw Piotr frown at your forcefield before curiously poking it with a finger. When he couldn't breach it, his brow furrowed in confusion.  

The man turned to look at Piotr and gestured towards Riptide. "Do what you will with him. That collar should keep him from being a danger to anyone else." 

"Who the hell is this guy?" You asked, defensive and still a little sore from the intrusion of your forcefield.  

"An old buddy," Wade informed you, sounding oddly excited.  

The guy turned towards you and approached you. "Y/N, you're coming with me," he continued, reaching out to grab your arm.  

Logan lunged at him, stopping the stranger from making contact. "Like hell she is, bub. Who the fuck even are you?" Logan put himself between you and the guy, staring him down.  

"Alright, alright, since both the big guys are bad at words, I'll speak here. Let's all just be friendly here," Wade instructed, stepping forward to put a hand on Logan's chest and the stranger's and push them just the tiniest bit away from each other. "This is Cable. He's the son of Cyclops and Madelyne Pryor, blah blah, genetic template for Stryfe, blah blah, something about Mr. Sinister and foreshadowing, infected with a techno-organic virus and a whole bunch of other mumbo jumbo Fred Savage told me." Wade took a step back until he was standing next to you and leaned in, lowering his voice. "Yes, that Fred Savage."  

You stared at Wade in silence for a moment, trying to process all the information he had just dumped on you. You didn't know Scott had a kid and who the hell was Madelyne Pryor? And you had most definitely never heard of anyone who went by Mr. Sinister. But what you felt most important to ask was: "Who the fuck is Fred Savage?" 

Wade gasped and turned to fully face you, ignoring the fact that Cable and Logan were still having a staring contest that would likely end in bloodshed. "You take that back right now or I'm getting that guy," he said, hooking a thumb over his shoulder to point towards Logan, "to spank you." 

You felt a sly grin pull at your lips. You had felt off-kilter since Cable showed up and fucked with your forcefield, but bantering with Wade had become normal for you. This, at least, was familiar ground. You leaned towards him until you were close enough to almost feel his breath through his mask.  

"Promise?" You whispered, winking at Wade when his eyes went wide.  

"Ooh ho ho, I always took Logan for the brat in the bedroom, but you're just full of surprises, aren't you?"  

You heard Logan let out an irritated growl, letting his claws show again, but he didn't take his eyes off Cable.  

"We're versatile," you offered with a shrug of your shoulders. 

"Oh, you're naughty, girl," Wade approved with a laugh. "I like you." 

"Ditto," you conceded, knowing that it would annoy Logan more. Sometimes, you liked getting him all riled up, because it meant that once it was just the two of you alone, he would take you apart in all the right ways.  

"Enough," Cable snapped, moving to sidestep Logan. He finally wrapped a hand around your arm, and you realized you couldn't even protect yourself with a forcefield, since he could just walk right through it. "Your universe isn't quite done with you yet, so you're coming with me." 

You felt a spike of panic at the thought of going back to your universe. Your old life with your old team and old Logan and Jean and everyone who had left you devastated and broken. You could think of one or maybe two people you would want to see from your old universe, but not enough to actually go back there.  

"No," you blurted, instinctively pushing Cable away from you with a forcefield.  

He hadn't been expecting it, so he staggered back a couple steps, but it wasn't nearly as far away from you as you wanted him.  

Logan lunged at Cable, sinking his claws into his arm. Cable was quick to throw him off and you saw Logan start towards him again, when Piotr cut in.  

"Perhaps it's better if you take this somewhere else," he advised, bringing attention to the small crowd you had attracted.  

Cable scowled at Logan before considering his arm. For someone who had just been simultaneously stabbed three times and was now bleeding, he didn't seem all that concerned about the damage.  

"Fine," he allowed with a look at Wade. "Let's take this back to your place." 

Wade opened his mouth, but Logan shot him a look that dissuaded him from talking, and Wade let out a heavy sigh. "Ugh alright," he groaned, "but you owe me a double entendre. Also, you're driving," Wade told Logan before making his way back to the SUV.  

Logan kept an eye on Cable as he nodded towards the vehicle, silently prompting you to follow Wade. Wade tried to take the passenger seat, but you were quick to steal it from him. If Logan was going to be driving, then there was no way in hell you were sitting in the backseat with Cable. You were worried he would find a way to simply reach out and steal you away, stranding you in your worst nightmare.  

At least with Logan right by your side, you would feel safe. You always felt safe with him.  

The drive back to Wade's apartment was awkward with tension and unspoken concerns. Wade was bouncing nervously in his seat and he kept trying to get Cable to talk about where he had been the past few years. Logan was gripping the steering wheel so tight that you were surprised it hadn't broken off in his grasp. And you were just keeping your breathing steady and trying to quell your racing heart.  

You didn't know anything, you reminded yourself. Maybe you misunderstood. Maybe Cable misspoke. Either way, you knew that Logan wouldn't let you go back to your old universe. Not without a fight and certainly not alone.  

You reached over to grab one of Logan's hands, grateful when he unclenched it from the steering wheel. He let you hold onto him like a lifeline, keeping his eyes on the road even though you knew his thoughts were on you.  

You felt the weight of someone's stare and turned to see Cable watching you from the backseat.  

"What," you snapped. 

Cable didn't say anything, but you had a feeling he knew more about you than you wanted him to.  

By the time you were sitting at Wade's table, Logan to your right, Wade to your left, and Cable opposite you, you were starting to get the creeping sense that something had gone horribly wrong.  

"So, I think I can finally speak for all of us when I ask what the hell are you doing here? Not that I'm not thrilled to get a reunion, surprise cameos are my favorite, but I got the impression you weren't ever coming back," Wade pointed out, leaning in towards Cable.  

Cable quirked an eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed, but he still deigned to answer Wade.  

"I've been tasked by the TVA to clean up a problem in Y/N's original universe. If she had stayed, it would have been taken care of, but now that universe's Wolverine has been captured by a man known as Omega Red." 

"Omega Red? That's this shitstick's name? Wow, he is such a pick-me girl, you know what I'm saying?" Wade asked Logan, shooting him a conspiratorial look.  

"I never know what the fuck you're talking about," Logan shot back, looking pissed off, but not necessarily with Wade. You realized Logan was worried for you and the prospect of you having to see the Logan who broke your heart and left you for Jean.   

"Didn't know I picked up an Old Man Logan, am I right?" Wade muttered to you, nudging you in the side with his elbow while he held his other hand up in the air, palm facing you in a silent request for a high five.  

You shook your head, aware that Logan was watching, but you discreetly held out your hand palm up behind your back, making him settle for a low five out of Logan's view. You were grateful for Wade's distraction, but you had already made up your mind.  

You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest, and shook your head. "It's not my fucking problem." 

"We need your abilities," Cable argued, his gaze unerringly on you. "Omega Red releases death spores when injured. He heals himself by draining everyone around him. Someone who can sneak up on him and trap him with a forcefield could save a lot of people. We just need you to incapacitate him." 

"Then get Sue Storm," you told him, refusing to budge.  

"She's dead," Cable grunted, visibly getting more annoyed by the second.  

"You must not be hearing me," you admonished him, your voice edged with steel. "That's not my fucking problem. If they needed me there, then they should have fucking left me there. But they dropped me in the Void, so this is on them. I’m staying here." 

Cable let out a chuckle that wasn't anywhere near amused. "The TVA thought you might feel that way and they're prepared to make a deal." 

"What kind of deal?" Logan asked, shooting you a wary glance. 

"If Y/N does this, then they'll let her stay here permanently."  

You felt a little jolt of fear spike through you at the idea that what you had now was only temporary. The TVA held a terrifying amount of power, and they could rip the life you had built yourself right out of your hands.  

"And what if she doesn't?" Wade wondered, his tone finally drifting closer to something serious. It was the voice he used when he knew shit was about to hit the fan and he was wondering who he was going to have to kill first. You knew Logan was protective of you, but hearing it from Wade made the chill that had swept over you with Cable's warning start to abate. You were flanked by two people you could count on to have your back and you couldn’t have been more grateful for them.  

"If she doesn't, then the TVA will prune her again. Or they'll strand her in her last universe with no way home. Or they'll hand her over to Alioth. Who knows what they've got on their mind?" 

Cable sounded like he was done with the whole thing and you were beginning to wonder if the TVA had something on him to make him work with them.  

"All I know," he continued, meeting your eyes, "is that your forcefields are unique. They're not only psionic, but they're damn near invulnerable." 

"You could reach through it," you pointed out, absentmindedly bringing a hand up to your chest. It had felt like an invasion, something so inherently wrong that it had affected you physically.  

"Eventually, I won't be able to," Cable told you. "You're getting stronger all the time and there will come a day when you'll be able to use them to block out a telepath of even Charles Xavier's strength." 

"Damn," Wade muttered, shooting you an appraising look, as if he was seeing something new in you. 

"This Omega Red guy can't regenerate in one of your forcefields, so he won't be able to harm anyone trying to save his own skin. He's smart, though. He's a super soldier who's been highly trained in hand-to-hand combat and a skilled military tactician." 

"So, what's he want with big and angry over here?" Wade asked, pointing a finger at Wolverine. "What'd he do to piss the guy off?" 

"He believes that universe's Logan knows where to find a Carbonadium Synthesizer. He has Carbonadium tentacles--" 

"I'm sorry," Wade interrupted, holding up a hand. "This guy is living, breathing tentacle porn and you want us to kill him? Get him in a bare-chested wrestling match with Doc Ock and you'll make millions." 

"Wade," you groaned, barely resisting the urge to hit your head on the table. "So, he wants this synthesizer thing and he thinks that the other Logan has it? Is this just a rescue mission or are we doing something else here?" 

"I'll escort you to protect you and take him down, but he does know a way around my defenses," Cable admitted with a gruff, resigned voice. "If we can mortally wound him and you trap him in a forcefield before he can regenerate, then the problem is solved. Forever," Cable pointed out.  

"If I do this," you started, hating that there was a strong possibility there was no way around seeing the other Logan again. "Then that's it. No more threats or taking me back. Whatever debt they think I have is settled, alright? I get to stay here and be happy here and never see those people again," your voice shook on the last word and Logan reached out to put a hand on your thigh, silently attempting to comfort you. 

Cable nodded his head, reaching his hand across the table. "I believe we have a deal." 

You reluctantly grabbed his hand, letting him shake yours, before you let go. "Then I'll go with you." 

"Hold on," Logan cut in, finally speaking again. "This Omega Red knows how to take you out, so there's no guarantee that you can keep Y/N safe. If she's going back to that place, then I'm going with her." 

"But Omega Red knows how to take you down too," Wade reminded Logan. "So, obviously, you're gonna need the merc with a mouth and I know just where to find him." 

"No," Cable tried to deny, but Wade was quick to talk over him. 

"Road trip!" He exclaimed, jumping up from his seat. "I've got to pack," he said, clapping his hands together in excitement, before skipping over towards his room.  

"We need a moment," Logan told Cable before he grabbed your hand and pulled you up out of your chair. You followed Logan, in a bit of a daze, until he got to the door of Wade's apartment. He pulled it open, tugging you out into the hallway, before firmly closing the door behind him. "Are you okay?" 

You shrugged your shoulders, twisting your mouth to the side in an attempt to keep yourself from crying. You could still feel that weight in your throat, threatening to make whatever words you decided to speak choked and broken.  

Logan seemed to know, though, without you even having to speak a word. He wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to rest your head under his chin. You felt like he was trying to protect you from the world and you had no doubt that he would kill Cable and run off with you if that was what you wanted. But you didn't want the TVA to track you down and throw you back in the Void. Or worse, strand you in your original universe, where your heartache would surely destroy you.  

You knew what it was like to be loved now, and you couldn't go back to a place without it.  

"What're we going to tell Laura?" You couldn't help but ask, refusing to pick your head up to look at him.  

"Someone's got to keep an eye on the place," Logan mused, pressing a kiss on the top of your head. "She'll be fine." 

"Yeah," you sighed, reaching up to grab fistfuls of Logan's shirt, practically begging him to stay right there with you. "I don't want to see him again. Or her. I just, I think of how it ended and how practically no one cared that I was hurting. They were happy for the new couple and I was left in my room in the mansion, wondering how I had ended up completely alone." 

"You're not alone anymore," Logan promised, gathering you closer to him. "And I'm not going to let either one of them make you feel that way again." 

"Okay," you agreed, pulling away from Logan when you heard Wade's voice approaching the door. You hastily wiped away the tear that had managed to escape your control.  

"I've got everything ready and loaded," he was saying as he opened the door. "So, let's get this universe hop on the road and spear us a kraken." 

Cable looked resigned as he joined Wade and you couldn't help the briefest smile at his long-suffering sigh.  

"I was only cleared for two," he pointed out, but he still reached out to put a hand on Wade's shoulder. 

"Wait," you said, brushing past Cable to get back into Wade's apartment. You scribbled out a note, hoping that if Laura went looking for you or Logan, then she would find it. You stared down at the words, trying to make yourself believe them, and then rejoined the others.  

Gone out to save some asshole. Be home soon. 

"Let's get this shit over with," you told Cable, reaching out to grab Logan's hand just as the hallway outside Wade's apartment shimmered and disappeared.  

There was a brief moment where it felt like everything got flipped upside down and your vision blurred before the picture in front of you finally smoothed out into something recognizable.  

You were met with the sight of the X-Mansion and you felt sick to your stomach. The place that used to be your favorite place in all the world, where you felt saved, had turned into the setting for your nightmares.  

You felt Logan go stiff at your side and you glanced up to see what had caught his attention. Logan growled and moved to place himself in front of you, shielding you from the man on the path leading up to the front doors.  

You saw the satisfied smile on the man's face and pushed past Logan, rushing towards him. Logan tried to reach out for you, but you evaded his grasp, knowing you weren't in any danger.  

"Erik," you greeted, practically running into his arms when he held them out to embrace you.  

"Where have you been all this time? I've missed you," he murmured, pulling you close for a moment before letting you go. "It hasn't been the same without you here." His gaze flickered to over your shoulder, and he quirked an eyebrow at what he saw there. "I see you've brought another brute with you. You know you can do much better," he pointed out.  

"No, I can't," you denied, looking over your shoulder to see Logan and Wade looking completely gobsmacked to see you so friendly with Erik. “And it’s a really long story, but I promise I'm in a much better place now,” you assured him.  

Erik narrowed his eyes at you, as if he was trying to figure out if you were telling the truth or not.  

"You're friends with Magneto?" Wade wondered, sounding like he was still trying to put the pieces together in his head. “Magneto?!” 

"Does Charles know you're here?" Logan snarled at Erik, finally advancing on the pair of you.  

You couldn't help but laugh, sharing an amused grin with Erik. "I should hope so," you told Logan. "Since they're married," you finished, watching as Logan's eyes went wide with surprise again.  

Wade groaned and dropped his head into his hands. "There's a universe where I could've had a chance with daddy Fassbender here? What the fuck," he moaned before he reached out to smack Cable on the shoulder. “Why didn’t you take me here sooner?” 

Cable rolled his eyes, pushing Wade away from him, before he addressed Erik. "We need the X-Jet." 

Erik ignored Cable and looked at you. "You're working with them?" From the disdain in his voice, you knew Erik was moments away from insulting the others, so you quickly nodded your head.  

"They're my friends. More," you amended with a look at Logan. "And we have to go rescue your Wolverine because apparently I'm the only one who can do it without casualties. And if I do this, then I never have to come back here." You shared a look with Erik, knowing that he would be able to tell that was what you wanted more than anything. You no longer considered this place your home and you desperately wanted to go back to where you knew you really belonged.  

Erik watched you in silence for a moment before he finally dipped his head in a nod. He reached out to put a hand on your shoulder, ignoring Logan's snarl, and gifted you with a smile. "If you're truly happier with them, then I'll do what I can to help you." 

You leaned forward and pulled Erik into another hug. He had been one of the only people you felt like you could count on and while Charles had always seemed to have a soft spot for Logan, Erik had one for you. When you were heartbroken, refusing to leave your room, he had been the one to offer to strip all the metal from Logan's body and encage him in an adamantium prison he would never escape. You had declined the offer, even if you had certainly appreciated it at the time.  

"How did you get to be so chummy with Magneto?" Wade questioned you when you were on the X-Jet and on the way to Berlin to rescue the other Logan and take down Omega Red. "He's only one of the most well-known villains in the Marvel universe and there you were hugging him like you were old pals." 

You shrugged your shoulders, not entirely understanding what Wade was talking about, but then that wasn't exactly a novel experience for you where he was concerned. "He's fought Charles and the X-Men on occasion, sure, but I don't know. I guess after years of going back and forth, they realized they were in love and didn't want to keep fighting it anymore. They figured they had both suffered enough at the hands of the other and gave in to what was inevitable." You remembered Erik telling you about chess dates in Paris and heated arguments that turned into something more. "And Erik always understood me. He was really the only one in the mansion I could count on when everyone else saw me as expendable." 

"Huh," Wade mused, leaning back in his seat. "So, is it an open marriage or--?" 

"We're almost there," Cable called, cutting Wade off. "Five minutes." 

Logan cleared his throat, glaring at Wade until he finally got the hint and joined Cable in the cockpit.  

"This Omega Red guy," Logan started, squinting his eyes like he thought the name was stupid, but continued, "he sounds like a big deal. If it starts going south, I want you to get the hell out of there." 

"If anyone's in danger here, it's you," you pointed out. "He's already taken out one Wolverine and I don't want him thinking he can take you too. If he also manages to fuck with Cable again, then the only thing that's going to keep this plan on track is Wade and me. So, if it looks like he's going after you, then I don't want to risk you. I’d rather you be the one to get the hell out of there." 

Logan's brow furrowed in frustration. "I'll regenerate," he reminded you. "This guy's got death spores, whatever the hell those are, and a track record of killing everyone around him to save himself. I feel like I'm finally in a place where I can breathe again and if he takes you away," he abruptly stopped talking, clenching his jaw to quell the despair that had leaked into his tone. "If he takes you away, then I go back to being that guy Wade found passed out in a bar and ready to take a bullet to the skull just to make it all end for a while. Don't make me be that guy again," he begged, reaching out to grab your hand and keeping it tight in his hold.  

"So, then we both promise not to die," you tried, not knowing how to navigate forward. Logan had been vulnerable with you before. He wasn't scared to let you know what was on his mind and you knew he trusted you more than anyone, but hearing about how broken he had been before Wade whisked him off to his universe had despair clawing at your heart. You knew you would be a mess without Logan, but you never seemed to realize just how much he needed you. "And then we can go back home and we can forget all about this place." 

Logan squeezed your hand before he nodded his head. "Alright," he sighed before moving to stand up, pulling you with him. "Let's fucking get this over with, then." 

It only took ten minutes for you to realize that Cable might have been holding back when he was talking about the danger Omega Red posed. Cable warned that Omega Red was smart, but he was such a skilled fighter that he was able to fight Logan, Wade, and Cable without sustaining any significant damage.  

You were keeping an eye on the fight, because you had been warned not to get too close until you were needed. You were waiting for any sign that Omega Red might be on the brink of death, but you got distracted when you noticed that the lab where you found Omega Red also had another room hidden at the back. You made your way towards the door, climbing over a desk and evading Cable when he got thrown across the room, landing in front of you.  

Cable barely spared you a glance, taking a moment to check his weapon before joining the fight again. You could hear Wade taunting Omega Red and Logan yelling at him to get out of the way and Cable taking shot after shot. Pandemonium had fully engulfed the room, but you tuned it all out, drawn in by the mystery of the room.  

You found yourself at the door and there was a feeling in your gut that told you exactly what you were about to find, but you needed to see for yourself.  

You took a deep breath, wincing at the sound of someone's bone breaking and a frustrated scream echoing through the lab, and opened the door.  

He was lying on a bed, passed out and blissfully unaware of the war waging in the next room and inside your head. You had hoped that you would never have to see him again, but now he looked so harmless when his eyes were closed and he wasn't leaving you for someone else.  

"Y/N!" You heard Wade shout in warning, and you turned in time to see one of the tentacles from Omega Red heading right towards you. You were quick to let yourself become invisible before rushing into the room, narrowly avoiding getting pierced through the chest.  

The tentacle retreated and you dared a look out of the room, catching sight of Cable on the floor, unmoving. Wade was doing what he did best, never staying still and taking any shot he could, but Omega Red now had his full attention on your Logan.  

He was ruthless, going after him again and again, and you could see blood staining Logan's suit. You stepped into the room, circling the fight and waiting for your chance. You knew if it came down to it, then you would throw the whole plan out just to save Logan. But you believed in him, and sure enough, when Wade slashed at Omega Red's ankles, bringing him down to the floor, Logan stuck his claws in his throat. He shot his arm up, slicing Omega Red's lower jaw to ribbons, and quickly stepped back.  

You formed the forcefield around Omega Red, pouring all of your concentration into the task. Omega Red let out a laugh, blood spilling from his throat freely. He didn't move, but you could feel something pulling at your forcefield. You remembered what Cable told you about Omega Red draining people to heal himself and you knew he was trying to do that to you.  

All you had to do was outlast him.  

Omega Red turned his gaze on you, still smiling as if he thought the whole situation was hilarious. You were steadily building up your forcefield, terrified that he would manage to pull it down. Omega Red finally stopped smiling and his hand went up to his neck, studying the blood that coated his fingers. You saw him sway, but that seemed to only steel his resolve, and he pulled on your forcefield again.  

Wade was trying to rouse Cable, but Logan was steadily watching you. You thought about him and what was in store for you once you succeeded. Logan and a home and a family and no fear. No longing and pain and insecurity. No more wondering if you would wake up one day, stuck in an empty room, with a team that had betrayed you.  

You had everything you wanted with Logan and you would be damned if you lost it all now.  

Your forcefield held steady, and even though you could see Omega Red waver, it seemed he still had one last trick up his sleeve. A cloud formed around him and became so thick that you could no longer see him. You had a moment to wonder if those were the death spores Cable had mentioned before you felt like someone had poured fire right down your throat and into your chest.  

You gasped, barely catching yourself from stumbling. Logan took a hesitant step towards you but you shook your head. You couldn't afford the distraction and there was no way in hell you were letting your forcefield down now. Omega Red seemed hellbent on mutually assured destruction and you didn't want to give him the satisfaction.  

So, you held on with just the thought of Logan in your mind. You pushed past the pain and the black spots in your vision and concentrated on keeping your end of the bargain that would see you finally getting the happy ending you deserved.  

After what felt like hours of Omega Red pumping out poison in an effort to escape, you noticed that the spores began to lighten and disperse. Omega Red was slumped on the floor, his gaze fixed on the ceiling of the lab. He wasn't moving and he wasn't breathing and he wasn't alive anymore.  

You held on for just a moment longer, sure it was some kind of trick, before you finally let your forcefield drop. You didn't realize you were on the floor, staring up at the ceiling in a daze, until someone was standing over you.  

"Y/N," Logan called before he crouched down, cupping your cheek in his hand. "Are you okay?" 

You offered him a smile, shaky and uncertain, before you managed to nod your head. "I'm alive," you croaked, feeling your chest tighten for a moment, before the pressure relented. It was then you got a better look at the Logan staring down at you and you realized he was entirely wrong. "Ugh," you groaned before you weakly pushed his hand away. "Get the fuck away from me," you ordered, searching for your Logan.  

It turned out he wasn't far, because one moment the wrong Logan was there hovering over you and the next he was on the floor. Logan pulled his claws from the other Logan's sides with a snarl before turning towards you. His expression quickly morphed from rage to concern. He dropped to his knees, his hand trembling as he pulled you up, letting you lean on him.  

"That was too close," he muttered, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Can you stand?" 

You shook your head, looking up at your Logan.  

"C'mon," he coaxed, slowly but surely standing with you in his arms. You rested your head on his shoulder, your eyes slipping closed, finally feeling safe again.  

“Way to go,” you heard Wade crow as he approached.  

You squinted at him, seeing he had Cable’s arm around his shoulders and was doing his best to support him.  

“Like, seriously, I thought we were all moments away from becoming extras in The Last Of Us. I was entirely ready for Pedro Pascal to bust in and shoot me in the head for inhaling the spores, but you did it. Hey, you don’t look so good,” Wade observed, tilting his head to the side. “You doing alright?” 

“Fine,” you rasped, glancing up at Logan. “I wanna go home.” 

Logan nodded his head, turning his attention towards Cable. “Think you can still pilot like that?” 

Cable grunted in discomfort as he stood, shaking off Wade’s help. “I’ve had worse. Let’s just get the fuck out of here,” he said before making his way towards the exit.  

Logan started walking, doing his best not to jostle you too much in his arms. You could hear the slow shuffle of footsteps trailing after the group and you knew the other Logan was reluctantly following.  

Your Logan glanced down at you, frowning at you in concern. “Stay with me, alright?”  

You blearily nodded your head, feeling exhaustion creep up on you. You had never fought so hard to keep one of your forcefields up and you knew the only reason you had managed it was because of Logan. He believed in you. He loved you. He cared about you. All of that and more had given you the fire you needed to keep Omega Red contained.  

"I can't believe you were ever considered the worst one," you whispered, knowing Logan would still hear you. "Not when he exists," you continued, reaching up to trace your fingers over his lips. You gently tapped your fingers against them, smiling when that only served to get a huff of laughter from him. "You're the best Logan," you assured him before you finally allowed yourself to pass out.  

Consciousness returned and fled from you, bringing you little bits of awareness. Logan carrying you back to the X-Jet and the other Logan trailing behind, a scowl on his face. Wade splayed out across multiple seats and singing showtunes to the other Logan. Logan's arm around you and Cable calling out that you had arrived. The hallways of the X-Mansion and Erik's voice ahead of you. A bed and a warm weight around your waist and a kiss to your forehead.  

The next time you woke, it was to a sight you had hoped to never see again.  

"Is this my room?" You grumbled, turning an accusing look up at Logan.  

He was sitting beside you on the bed and you knew without a doubt that he had never left your side. He held a book in one hand and the other had been resting on your back, keeping you held close with your head pillowed on his thigh. He set the book down on the nightstand, being careful not to move you. 

"It is," Logan confirmed before reaching for you. You let him pull you further into his side and tucked your head up under his chin.  

"What time is it?" You wondered, glancing at the curtains and the glimpse of darkness outside. 

"A little after ten," Logan answered, lightly running his fingers up and down your back.  

"I don't want to be here," you told him, pushing away from him to sit up. "I hate being in this room and all of the memories and--" You abruptly stopped talking, dropping your head in your hands. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out unwanted memories that threatened to overwhelm you. Curling up on the bed, clutching a pillow to your chest, tears running down your cheeks. Sobs choking you, hearing everyone's whispers, dodging their stares. You had felt so alone despite Erik’s sympathy and now your chest felt heavy with the memory.  

"Hey," Logan murmured, reaching out to pull you back towards him. "We can leave as soon as Cable gets back. He dropped us here so he could go talk to the TVA and then he's taking us back. We're not staying," he assured you, his hands going to your shoulders and turning you until you could meet his eyes. "We're going home," he promised once he knew he had your full attention.  

You nodded your head, but you could feel that creeping sense of doubt begin to take hold. Somewhere in the mansion, Jean was fussing over Logan and they were in love and didn't give a fuck about what they put you through. It killed you, just the tiniest bit, that they were no doubt happy together.  

Suddenly, you were on your back, staring up at the ceiling. Logan caged you in with his arms, lowering his body on top of yours. "I think," he started, brushing his lips against yours. "It's time to make new memories here. Better memories," he amended with a smirk.  

You felt a smile tug at your lips as you raised your head enough to kiss him. It felt like coming home in the best way and you knew that you couldn't let the past overwrite the present.  

Logan pressed his lips to yours, his hands tightening in the bedsheets at your sides. The kiss grew hungry and consuming, Logan nipping at your lips and begging entrance with his tongue.  

You let him in and Logan set about claiming you, groaning into your mouth when you gave back everything he was giving you. You felt his hands settle on your hips before they swept up, beginning to inch your shirt higher.  

Logan broke away from the kiss to plant one on your bottom lip, chin, jaw. He bit kisses into the underside of you jaw and the sensitive spot behind your ear that he knew would make you crazy. You grabbed fistfuls of his shirt and pulled, silently begging for him to take it off. You wanted to feel all of him, everything, all that you could get.  

"I couldn't stand it," he growled, refusing to move as he continued to mark your skin. "Seeing his hands on you and the way you reached for him, thinking it was me. I wanted to rip him apart," he snarled before finally pulling back.  

He pulled his shirt over his head and helped you do the same. His fingers brushed against your stomach before trailing down to the button of your pants. You nodded your head, giving him permission, eager to feel all of him again. It didn't take long before you were both fully bared to each other, ready to lose yourselves together.  

"He's never going to touch you again," Logan promised, his hands drifting over your sides, hips, thighs. "No one but me," he continued before he pressed a kiss to your collarbone. He lightly scraped his teeth along the skin there before pulling it into his mouth, soothing the sting with his tongue.  

"Logan," you breathed, feeling like you were coming back to life. You couldn't believe you had just felt so unwanted and unloved when you had Logan ready to stake a claim on every inch of you. "No one but you," you agreed as he worked his way lower, slowly kissing a path down from your neck to your chest and then stomach. You could feel the low, pleased rumble in his chest, knowing that he was driving you absolutely crazy. You wanted to move closer to him to try to urge him along, but you couldn’t. He was gripping your hips, making sure you stayed exactly where he wanted you.  

He pressed a kiss to one of your hips and then the other. He looked at you, staring at you from between your thighs, before you saw his lips tick up with a devastating smirk. He reached up to grab one of your hands and placed it in his hair. "Hold on," he commanded, barely giving you time to grip the strands in your grasp before he lowered his head and began to take you apart.  

Hours later, you were on round four or five, you had honestly lost count, but you knew you were lost in a state of euphoria. Logan's hands were on your hips and he was buried in you, but he was staying still, simply taking in the sight of you beneath him. You knew you must have looked like a complete and total wreck. Your spine felt like it had melted right into the mattress and your mind was a mush of thoughts all focused on pleasure and Logan and love and want.  

There were marks littering your chest and stomach and thighs. You felt overly sensitive in all the right places and you knew that you were going to be incredibly sore later on, but you didn’t care. Right now, Logan looked just like you felt and you loved that you had been the one to have that effect on him. 

"C'mon," you urged, pulling at his shoulders and bucking your hips up into his in an effort to get him to move. “I’m so close.” 

He reached up a hand to cup the side of your face before he shook his head. "Say it," he demanded, a growl in his voice.  

"Say what?" You wondered, even though you knew exactly what he wanted. It wasn't the first time he had asked you for it that night and you couldn't help teasing him just the slightest.  

"You know," he admonished, pulling out enough so he was just barely inside you. You felt your thighs begin to tremble and you tried to tighten them around his waist, but he stayed firm. "Say it," he repeated, leaning forward to press a kiss to your neck. He pressed fully back inside you as his teeth scraped the mark he had left just behind your ear.  

"Logan," you whimpered, clutching at his back, your nails claiming temporary marks on his skin.  

"Louder," he ordered, pulling out before burying himself inside you again. 

A delicious heat was traveling down your spine and settling low, shooting off little zings of pleasure that had you half insane with the need to fall right back over that edge again. Logan had been incredibly attentive all night and now you were rounding the track again, the home stretch just barely within your reach. He began to bite kisses into your neck and down your chest, before he started up a maddening pace with his hips, and you could feel yourself begin to fall again.  

"Ah, fuck, Logan," you moaned, not even caring how loud you were being now. You clutched at him, lost and seeking a lifeline, trusting him to see you through to the end.  

He worked his kisses back up until he had his face in the crook of your neck. You could tell just from the feel of his lips that he was smirking, pleased with you.  

"Good," he murmured before he flipped you both over, letting you be on top. His hands trailed up your sides before settling back on your hips. "You're mine," he grunted, holding on to you as he pressed his hips up, seeking his own release. "You're mine, you're mine, you're mine," he chanted as he lost himself inside you again.  

After, when he had his arm wrapped around you and your head was resting on his chest, he trailed a hand lightly along your back. You shivered and pressed yourself closer to him, glad when he pulled the sheet tighter around the both of you. You felt sore and sated, the last few hours completely erasing and rewriting the history of the room. Now, you looked at the walls and didn't think of how they had witnessed your desolation, but now knew of the way you were loved. Gone were the memories of tears, replaced with the echoes of your pleasure.  

Logan had done exactly what he told you he would. He created new memories for you and you were so dizzyingly in love with him that you couldn't help but squeeze his hip, letting him know you were still there with him. 

"I meant what I said, you know," he told you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "You're mine now and I'd never let you come back here to him. To any of them. Because I'm yours too," he continued, finally letting his hand rest between your shoulder blades. "We belong to each other." 

You managed to look up at him despite the way sleep was trying to drag you down. "Promise?" You couldn't help but check, knowing that he had well and truly ruined you for anyone else.  

"With all my heart," he confirmed, his tone sincere.  

"Good," you murmured, already beginning to slip off to sleep. "Love you," you managed to get out before sleep rushed up to claim you.  

You never heard him say that he loved you back, but you felt it just the same.  

In the morning, you woke to an empty bed. Before, if it was you in this bed with the other Logan, you might have worried that he left you because he didn't care about you enough to stick around, but you didn't have to worry about that now. Your Logan was nothing like the one from your original universe and he would never do that to you.  

You got out of bed and pulled your clothes back on. There was a rip near the right hip of your pants where Logan had been a little too eager to rid you of them. You didn't care what you looked like as you shuffled out of your old room, rumpled and content. It wasn’t like you planned on sticking around for much longer and there was no way in hell you ever planned on coming back. 

You followed the sound of voices to the kitchen. You froze at the entryway when you noticed the other Logan leaning against the counter, glaring down at a cup of coffee. His arm was wrapped around Jean's waist, his hand splayed protectively over the bump under her shirt.  

It felt like a punch in the gut to see Jean pregnant. They didn't waste a second, you couldn't help but think, and when Jean turned to look at you, you realized she caught that. You thought about what Cable told you, that your forcefields would eventually shut out telepaths, and you imagined one of them closing around your mind. You didn’t want anything projecting out that she might be able to hear. When Jean flinched and hurriedly looked away, you knew that it had worked, if even for a moment.   

You sneered at her back, ready to get the hell out of the room and retreat, when you heard someone call your name. Wade was sitting at the kitchen table, a pile of pancakes in front of him, while your Logan watched you with a warm, inviting smile.  

Wade began to wave at you, as if he thought you wouldn't be able to see him.  

"Over here," he called, reaching out to pat the chair beside him. "Saved you a seat," he offered, turning his attention back to his food. He still had his mask on, but it was rolled up so his mouth was free, and he could shovel forkfuls of pancakes into his mouth at a speed that was starting to make you nauseous.  

"Here," Logan murmured, sliding over a cup of coffee once you sat down.  

You took a sip, savoring the taste, and offered him a smile. "Just how I like it," you told him, leaning over for a brief kiss.  

You heard someone clear their throat and you glanced over to see the other Logan staring at you. He looked as if he was waiting for something, but you had no idea what he might expect from you. If you had your way, you wouldn’t even be in the room, but the buffer of Wade’s rambling mouth and presence of your Logan were the only things keeping you rooted to your spot.  

"You look a little tired, there, Wolvie," Wade observed as he let his fork clatter down on the empty plate. He pulled his mask back down and rolled his shoulders, as if he was getting ready for a fight.  

"Don't call me that," the other Logan snapped, taking a step away from Jean.  

"Well, what else can I call you? Logan Two?" He tried, shaking his head. "No, that's not right. Maybe Loser? That seems to fit you better." 

"Shut the hell up," the other Logan spat and you saw Jean roll her eyes before leaving the room.  

You couldn't help but feel lighter without her there. You hated to admit it, even to yourself, but you felt insecure with her anywhere around your Logan. It only helped that your Logan had spent the last few minutes with his hand on your thigh and his attention focused on you. He reached out to gently press his thumb to the underside of your jaw, briefly caressing the mark he had left there the night before.  

“Can’t wait to get you home,” your Logan murmured, a wicked smirk on his face that sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine.  

You heard something shatter and glanced over to see the other Logan clutching a broken cup and coffee splattered on the floor beneath him.  

"What's wrong there, Wolvie? Didn't get enough sleep last night?" Wade asked, adopting a faux concerned tone.  

"No," the other Logan growled, shooting a scowl at your Logan. "I didn't." 

Your Logan gave the other Logan a pleased, smug grin before taking a sip of your coffee. "Funny," he started, before setting the cup down and staring him down across the kitchen. "Can't say I slept much last night, either," he claimed, bringing his arm up to rest along the back of your chair. 

Your only warning was a snarl of rage before you felt your chair tip back and you were on the floor. The other Logan had rushed at your Logan and threw him into the table. The table buckled and collapsed and you used a forcefield to push back the other Logan. He looked betrayed for a moment and you couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of that before your Logan lunged at him.  

You lost track of the fight, both of them frenzied and enraged. There was blood sprayed across the tiles and a crack in the counter where the other Logan had been thrown. The fight ended with your Logan's claws stuck in the other Logan's chest and Wade standing behind the other Logan, his katanas crossed over his throat, ready to decapitate him if needed.  

"I can't leave you anywhere, can I?" Cable interrupted, sounding resigned. You didn’t even notice him appear, you had been so invested in the fight and making sure your Logan or Wade didn’t get seriously hurt. "Come on," he continued, "it's time to get you three back home." 

Hearing Cable call Wade's universe your home gave you all the motivation you needed to walk forward and put your hand on your Logan's shoulder. "Hey," you whispered, knowing he was listening to you even though he was still glaring at the other Logan. You also had the other Logan's attention, which made what you said next even sweeter. "I'm happier with you," you reminded your Logan. "And I don't want him anymore," you said, meeting the other Logan's eyes.  

You saw the shock in his expression fade into fury, but he knew he was trapped. Still, he snarled and jerked in your Logan's hold, blood beginning to drip from where Wade's blades had sliced into his skin.  

"Goodbye," you told him, even if you didn't think he deserved that much from you.  

The other Logan didn't respond, but from the look on his face, you knew he got the real message. You were completely done with him.   

You let your hand drift down from your Logan’s shoulder to his arm, prompting him to finally pull his claws out of the other Logan's chest. He took a step back, staring the other Logan down, before he turned to you. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side.  

"Let's go home," he told you, beginning to usher you over towards Cable.  

You didn't spare a glance at the other Logan, not wanting to look back. You knew that it was much better to keep your focus on your future ahead with your Logan and not on what or who you were leaving behind.  

When you finally got back to Wade's universe, Cable turned to face you.  

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. "Here," he said, waiting for you take it from him. "There's no going back now," he warned you. "I made sure to get it in writing for you." 

You skimmed the piece of paper, feeling a smile tug at your lips.  

"What's it say?" Wade wondered, reaching out to pluck the paper out of your hands. After a moment, he chuckled before looking at Cable. "You big 'ol softie," he said before slapping the paper to Logan's chest, barely waiting for him to grab it before he threw his arms wide. "Group hug," he said before sweeping you into an embrace with Cable. "C'mon, Logan, get in on this." 

You couldn't help the laugh that bubbled out of your throat. Wade was ridiculous, but you appreciated his sentiment. Cable released a heavy sigh before extracting himself from Wade's hold.  

"Good luck," he told you, before beginning to turn a dial on the device strapped to his forearm. "I think you're going to need it." 

And then he was gone, leaving you to pat Wade on the back and step into Logan's arms. You felt lighter, freer, after reading the paper that confirmed that the TVA wouldn't be sending you back to your old universe. You truly were free to forget all about your old life and focus on your new one.  

You pulled away just enough to frame Logan's face in your hands before you pulled him in for a kiss. It had taken you heartbreak and pain and a whole host of other terrible things to get you where you belonged with the right Logan, but you wouldn't have traded the experience for anything.  

Now, all you had to do was make sure you held on tight and refused to let go. From the way Logan kept you in his arms, a relieved smile on his face, you knew he felt the same.  

Neither one of you was willing to lose what you had gained without one hell of a fight. 

Later, you would remember that moment when you were in Logan’s arms while he tried and failed to keep Wade from joining the embrace. You would remember your helpless laughter at the sight of Logan’s perplexed scowl while Wade managed to hop on his back. It was that moment, when you felt unburdened and free and happy, that would get you through the tragic events ahead. 

Author's Note: I'm so fucking nervous about this one. I rarely write anything with spice, so I'm literally fucking terrified right now y'all will hate this. If you liked this, letting me know would make my day. And I have an idea/plot for a third chapter, so if y'all want to read that, please let me know. And if you want to be tagged in the next part, please let me know! I figure as long as y'all let me know you want to keep reading this fic, I'll keep on adding more to it. And if there are characters/scenarios/other Marvel stuff you might want to see, let me know! I might be able to work it into the fic. (also, we're just going to pretend reader never met negasonic teenage warhead or colossus yet for the purpose of this fic.)

taglist: @wonderfrost @mrsyixingunicorn10 @blackbleedingrose @arrozyfrijoles23 @elianamarie-blog

@sarahskywalker-amidala @whiskytoast @shizzybarnaclee @zbeez-outlet @halepack2011

@facelessfionna @i-left-my-cat-on-the-stove @whyam1heree @serendippindots @janilovecookies

@lollipopsandstuff @4ria790 @jtthompson @id-rather-be-in-middle-earth @the-gentle-spirit

@hazel2928 @gothicknightz @mkay33 @bibblesdiscordkitten @albionfay

@songwizard

[6okuto]

FAN FAVOURITE MOMENTS

gn!reader | timeskip kenma, hinata, sakusa, suna

KENMA’s chat has never moved faster than now as you sit together and watch edits that fans have made of him, and the two of you. you jokingly coo and hug him when you find an edit about “how he looks at you.” “ken! oh my god, you’re so—” “shut up, scroll away already.” “no, i’m sending this to myself, stop—give me the phone!” kenma turns away, forcing you to wrap yourself around him in a desperate attempt to grab the phone while it’s still on the video. the both of you are laughing when you yell, “chat, chat, somebody send that edit to me!” “chat, don’t listen to them. we aren’t even dating. this relationship was fake the whole time.” “shut the fuck up, kenma.” you say in mock annoyance—a grin still on your face—and hit his arm. he snickers as you stop to rest your head on his shoulder and frown. "please?" a beat passes before he huffs. “fine. i’ll send it to you after.” it was an inevitable outcome, but you still cheer and turn back to the stream to see everyone’s reaction, not catching the loving gaze he has on his face watching you again.

HINATA, despite his usual energy, finds his eyes drooping as he watches the live chat scroll past him. it was late, and he decided to talk to fans before going to bed—about upcoming games, a new restaurant he visited that he thinks might become a favourite, how he’s been looking for new shoes. it’s been maybe an hour when his responses are filled with more hums than sentences, and he decides to rest his head. by the time you find him, he’s been asleep for 10 minutes. “hi guys, i’m gonna end the live and get this guy to bed now,” you whisper with an amused smile. shoyo shuffles at the sound of your voice, and his comes out muffled against the pillow. “babe?” “sorry, sho, did i wake you?” “mm, ‘s okay. are you coming t’bed soon?” “yeah, just ending your live.” “...oh. goodnight everybody,” he murmurs and raises his fingers in what’s supposed to be a wave. his fans watch as he reaches for you, eyes still closed, and make sure to take screenshots of the sleepy, lovesick smile on his face after you kiss his forehead before the live ends.

SAKUSA’s always been teased about how little he posts on his social media outside of things related to his career. it’s not a shock that your relationship isn’t something he posts casually. after an interviewer jokes about how fans might think he’s single, or that you’ve broken up by this point, kiyoomi decides to make a photo dump encompassing the last few months with you. it has a photo of you tucked in bed and sleeping the first night at the new apartment, a video of you singing where he can be heard softly laughing in the background, a photo of you smiling at the birthday gifts and dinner you enjoyed together, a blurry selfie with the two of you kissing, and one where kiyoomi, known for his stoic face and attitude, is a little tipsy and smiling as you wrap your arms around his neck from behind. fans pour out words of support and excitement below his caption of “i love you. happy anniversary, and thank you for letting me be yours.”

SUNA and you are chatting with some fans when one asks if you’ve been watching anything lately. you both say the name of the drama you’re watching together without hesitation, the most recent episode still on your mind. “the way he like, turned her to face him and they were so close before finally kissing—” you cut yourself off with a grin, flustered at the thought as everyone excitedly agrees. “has suna ever done something like that?” someone asks. rintarou turns to you the same time you look at him, cocking his head to the side with a teasing smile. “yeah, have i ever done anything like that?” “no,” you lie, staring right at him. his fans team up, “ooooh”’s thrown his way. you’re not sure what anyone was expecting, but it wasn’t for him to take it as a challenge and step closer. the crowd is suddenly quiet as he leans in, eyes flickering from looking into yours down to your lips. “are you sure?” he murmurs. your breath hitches as he moves in even closer, lips barely an inch from yours. before you realize it, your eyes are fluttering closed as his hand comes to cup your face and lips meet yours. it’s barely a few days later until a video of you kissing goes viral, and rintarou is saving it to his gallery.

@devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @semifilms @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @ksyhmm @idontlikeyourjob @sparrowb3nscloset @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtic @kuroaka @sunaslay @the-midnightskies @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten @kellesvt @scill-a @curiouslilbeast @fiona782 @cvhenia @mitskiologist

[carajilloplz]

bad habit ✮⋆˙ joost klein

SMUT 18+ MDNI

warnings: smoking, alcohol consumption, w33d (just a little), lots of teasing omg it's ridiculous, making out, oral!fem receiving because joost is a MUNCH, unprotected p in v, choking kind of?, orgasm denial and overstimulation

i am so sorry

Du weißt, dass das eine schlechte Angewohnheit ist, oder? - You know that's a bad habit right?

Hast du Feuer - Got a lighter?

Inside the venue, the music was ridiculously loud. Your friend had dragged you to a show (Ski Aggu? You had no idea, you were just there to support) and it was a good show and pretty solid music, but not exactly what you would listen to on a daily basis. In the end you ended up enjoying it, loving the antics onstage. Your favorite was that one song, probably his most recognizable because you’d heard it out before, where a tall blond guy wearing a full-on dress shirt with a tie and some funky-looking glasses. 

The show was good, and since your friend had run into some acquaintances, you accepted your fate for the night and gestured to her that you were going out for a smoke. You’d had a few drinks already and just wanted to take a break from that and the overly loud music inside. Stepping outside, you took in the Berlin night cold and cursed yourself for only wearing a thin slip dress, at least covered by the oversized leather jacket with a million pockets. Curiously, somebody stepped out of the bar as well and you recognized him as the blond who was onstage earlier for that one song. 

“Du weißt, dass das eine schlechte Angewohnheit ist, oder?” He spoke, teasingly referring to the box of cigarettes in your hand as you rummaged through your pockets for a lighter.

“Hast du Feuer?”

“Yeah, I’ve got one.” he says, reaching in his pocket.

You scoffed, shaking your head at yourself. “Is my german actually that bad?”

The man laughs, exposing a set of very charming dimples and a crinkle in his eye hidden by his wide-rim tinted glasses. “No it’s not, you’re just drunk and very clearly not from here.” He reaches out his hand with the lighter in it, and as you go to grab it he snatches it back, smirking and giving you a challenging look. “And what do I get in return?”

You roll your eyes, reaching into your pocket. “Here, you can bum one off me.” The blond nods appreciatively as he grabs a cigarette from you and proceeds to light his own first. He then reaches out with the lighter to yours, holding it up to light your cigarette and you can feel his gaze on you. There was a significant height difference, so you had to crane your neck up quite a bit to speak to him. 

“Thank you…?” you say, prompting him to share his name, playing dumb because you already knew it. 

“Joost” he replies, exhaling smoke and looking down at you, very obviously devouring you with his eyes. Oh so that’s what he’s playing at. “And you are…?”

Immediately your demeanor changed because, hell, he’s quite hot and seemed pretty fun from what you’d seen of him on stage. Might as well. You told him your name and teasingly started inquiring about his stage presence. 

“So you’re friends with Aggu or something right?”

“Yeah,” he says, taking a drag and leaning his shoulder against the wall, towering over you. “We’ve been pretty tight since we were openers together once.” You nod understandingly, raising your eyebrows in the most subtly patronizing way to keep teasing him. He catches on. “Why, you listen to him?”

“No, not at all actually. My friends dragged me to this show.” you say, matter-of-factly “Lowkey I thought it would be kind of bad but I am pleasantly surprised.”

“Good,” He’s kind of shocked by your bluntness, but clearly intrigued. “What was your favorite song?”

“The one you sang with him.” You reply, finishing off your cigarette and dropping it to the ground and putting it off with your boot. “I’m going back in, you coming?”

Hurriedly, Joost takes a few last drags and follows you inside, lightly putting his hand on the small of your back as you led the way back to your friends.

“There you are, babe!” your friend replies, dropping the conversation she was having with an acquaintance. She leans closer to you, speaking into your ear over the loud music. “I see why you were gone and I’m not gonna get mad because he’s cute.”

You brushed her off with a wink and a laugh and casually turned back to Joost, “This is Joost, Joost this is my friend Lina that dragged me here.”

She waves, “Big fan.” and turns back to her other conversation. Silently you thanked her to yourself for getting the hint. You turn back to Joost, looking up at him and pointing accusingly.

“You owe me a drink for giving you one of my cigs.” you say, teasingly looking up at him with a smirk. You had to play his game, and at this point you felt like he was catching on too.

“Oh do I?” Joost replies, looking down at you challengingly through half lidded eyes and lightly licking his bottom lip. “You’d still have to owe me one back.”

“I can give you a kiss and we’ll be even.”

He nods, biting his cheek and turning to the bartender and signalling for two more of what he was drinking. Your drinks get served and you stand on your tippy toes, hand on his chest to lean into his ear to say ‘thank you’, and as you pull back he leans in but you quickly dodge him with a playful smirk. He’s very clearly into it and going in for the long run, so he followed you when you grabbed his hand and gestured towards the dancefloor. Even if Aggu’s show was over, the venue was still thumping with music.

Swaying your body rhythmically with the beat, Joost’s hands found themselves comfortably settled on your waist, slowly reaching towards your ass and pulling you closer like that. You kept going though, turning around and staying close to his body, making a point of teasingly moving your hips against him, feeling the light graze of his crotch against you.

This set him off the edge and he kept one of his hands firmly on your hip and reached the other to splay his arm across your shoulders in a light headlock to pull you closer. “And when can we get even?” He says into your ear, his voice an almost growl dripping with desire.

You turn around and look him wantonly in the eyes before reaching to give him a kiss. Joost kisses back firmly, leaning down a little to match you and reaching up his hand to cup your jaw. Immediately in that drunken kiss, you tangle your hand into his hair, complimenting the clashing of teeth and the slow roll of Joost’s tongue in your mouth. You continue to kiss, sloppily grabbing at each other, his hand snaking to grab at your neck and you reaching up to snake your arms around his shoulders as he pulled you closer. He suddenly stopped. 

“Liefde, I have to take you home.” Joost pants, cheeks red and flustered from your passionate kiss. “You’re driving me insane.”

You give him a teasing look. “Look at you, all direct. Don’t seem like the type.”

He scoffs, leaning down towards your ear— “If I weren’t direct I wouldn’t be able to tell you that the though of you makes me hard and I want my head between your legs as soon as possible.”

This comment shuts you up completely, shooting a bolt of electricity down your spine and the mere idea of Joost between your legs makes you squirm pleasurably. You nod, looking up to him still slightly in shock.

“Let’s go to mine, I’m two blocks away and I’ve got weed.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The walk back home for the two of you was excruciatingly long because you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. You walked with your hand slipped in the back pocket of Joost’s jeans, and he kept looking down at you as you took another drag from your cigarette. He couldn’t help himself, really, and he pressed you against the nearest wall and gave you a long, deep kiss. You both grabbed at each other as you passionately made out against the wall of some random building on the way to your house. Romantic, huh?

Somehow, you made to your apartment and you discarded your leather jacket at the entrance. This left you in a very thin, almost transparent silk slip that gave Joost a perfect view of the outline of your body behind you, the dress almost translucent because of the light. 

You plopped onto your couch, reaching for the bong on your coffee table as Joost sat next to you. Taking one or two hits, you passed it onto him as you analyzed his face in a different light than where you were before. His eyes were a dashing color blue and his blonde hair was the just right amount of tousled, falling onto his defined face perfectly.

He didn’t finish putting the bong down on your coffee table before you straddled him, looking onto his eyes, almost level to you because of his height, and gave him a profound kiss. His large hands settled on your ass, encouraging you to move your hips backwards and forwards, prompting him to grind back up into you. You continued like this for a while, tongues clashing and hands grabbing at each other, clouded by the substances running through your systems. You worked on loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt as you continued your kiss, pushing it down and off his body. Joost thought you looked positively angelic as you pulled away, connected still to him with a string of saliva and focusing on rubbing your tangibly wet pussy on his hard crotch. 

Suddenly Joost grabs you from above him and turns you around to lay you on the couch, immediately putting his weight on you and passionately continued your kiss. You felt his bulge on you, hard from all the anticipation and teasing you even more as he continued to slip his tongue in your mouth. He snakes his hand down your side, rreaching down to your thigh and grabbing all over it, clearly enjoying the plush of your soft skin. Slowly, he begins reaching up towards your slip, moving it up slightly so you are more exposed.

“No underwear?” He asks through your kisses, snickering as you whine slightly because of the subjection he’s putting you in. Joost continues, smoothly and teasingly moving his hand on your waist, moving down to your leg, wrapped around him, and reaching up to your ass and giving it a slap. This sends a jolt through your body, extremely turned on but surprised at his harshness. You let out a moan and pulled him even closer. 

“You liked that?” You moan in approval as he begins moving his hand between your thighs and breaks the kiss to start kissing your neck. Joost was literally leaving you speechles with his touches, making you a writhing, whining mess under him. He brings you up towards him to slip the straps of your dress down your shoulders and begins kissing down your chest, making you whine as he starts going lower and lower. Bringing his hand towards your pussy, he slowly traces his fingers up your slick folds until he gets to your clit. He starts to draw small circles with his thumb on the bundle of nerves, sending shocks through your body and making your back arch, bringing you closer to him. 

As he continues to teasingly and painfully slowly move lower, you tangle your hands in his messy blonde hair. He finally reaches your throbbing pussy, but not even making a single movement that would indicate he would do anything yet with it, focusing on kissing your thighs.

“Fuck Joost, please do something” you moan, arching your back and expecting him to do something, but he just stops his kisses and puts more pressure on your clit. At this rate, you felt like you were coming closer and closer without him doing that much purely from the teasing.

“What was that, baby? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Please eat me out Joost, stop being such a fucking tease.” You reply through another moan, pulling at his hair to get closer.

“Ask nicely and I’ll do it.” He replies, menacingly pressing his thumb even more and looking up at you expectantly. “I want you to beg.”

That alone sent you into a moaning mess, immediately submitting to his touch. “Joost please please eat me out, I need you. Please do something, I can’t stand it.”

He instantly puts his lips to your pussy, lapping at your clit and putting one, two fingers in, hitting just the right spot, making you whimper out when combined with the feeling on your clit. Joost was clearly enjoying himself down there, running his tongue in all the right places and pumping his fingers in and out of you at a rough but pleasurable pace. You felt the familiar build of pressure in you, heightening your sensitivity to every touch and lick. 

“Fuck Joost keep going please” You moan, pulling at his hair and trying to keep your legs from shaking. “I’m gonna come.”

He immediately takes his mouth off of your pussy and climbs back up to your level, leaving you confused  and overstimulated from the lack of touch. He brings his hand up to your neck and grabs you by your jaw to look directly at him.

“You don’t cum until I say so.”

Joost quickly reaches down to unbuckle his belt as he continues kissing you. He was impossibly hard, and you helped him unbutton his jeans and reaching down to palm him through his underwear. He immediately let out a moan of relief at the loss of pressure when he pushed off his jeans, grinding into your hand as you both moaned at the buildup of anticipation. You were still put off from your orgasm and he was ready to shamelessly start fucking you, so you were both clearly on the same page when you reached down to pull down his underwear and release his hard cock. He was huge, you could feel it from making out earlier but seeing it at it’s full length you felt scared but also extremely turned on.

Through moans and clawing at each other, he grabbed his cock and quickly found his way towards your entrance, nudging the head of his cock and rubbing it against your hole.

“Tell me if you can’t take it,” he pants, and you were flattered by the concern but you knew better.

“Just put it in Joost, I need you inside of me.”

This set him off. He instantly started pushing himself inside you with a groan, bottoming out easily because of how wet you are. Joost looked at you to see if you were okay, and continued once you let out a moan and looked up at him. He moved at a painfully slow but strong pace in the beginning as you adjusted to his size, and once you started bringing him closer, he sped up his pace. 

Both of you a mess of moans and groans, you continued to angle yourself towards his pounding thrusts, making him groan more as you started clawing at his back. You felt a mix of pain and pleasure as you felt his length inside you, building up the pressure in your belly once more, this time more intensely. He was bottoming out completely with each thrust now, letting out garbled curses in Dutch and pounding into you as you moaned out. 

“Joost, please can I come.”

“Yes you can schatje, come for me.”

Instantly, you gushed all over his cock, arching your back and seeing stars. You stayed in that state for a minute, relieved from the overstimulation, but he didn’t stop his thrusts. 

“I want you to come again, baby. C’mon get on top” he says, bringing you up as he sat up on the couch. Although you were blissed out from your orgasm, you still couldn’t help but be entranced by his orders, so you gave him a kiss as you straddled him, sinking onto his cock with a whimper. He was the one that continued the pace, hands on your ass, moving your hips back and forth and getting himself off with you. 

You were a mess at this point-- your hair was all tangled and you were a flustered mess full of scratches and one or two hickeys, just like him. He placed a firm slap on your ass, which made your dripping cunt clench around him and made him let out a loud groan as he thrust up against you again. 

“Fuck schatje you feel so good on me.” he groans, continuing to bounce you up and down. Joost loved the way you looked on top of him, a flustered, moaning mess that did everything to reach that second orgasm that he felt was close for you. That pleasurable pressure was growing in you again, and your overstimulation was driving you crazy. You loved the feeling of Joost’s cock inside of you, and in this position it was just hitting the right spot every time.

Joost eventually got sloppier, and started moaning harder, groaning your name hotly in your ear, which combined with his hands on you drove you closer and closer towards your orgasm. 

“Can I come inside you?” he asks, “I’m close liefde, fuck.” You moan at the mere thought.

“Please come inside me Joost I’m so close.” You moan, intensifying your movements for a moment, Joost moving your hips harder, which set you off into a mess of gasps and whimpers, leaving you without air as you felt the flash of your second orgasm. 

Your orgasm set off Joost too, coming at the feeling of your pussy clenching around him, and with a deep groan of your name, spilled inside of you. The both of you stayed there for a moment, panting as he leant his head against the back of the couch looking up at you. You looked divine, a blushing, blissed out mess and he was sure he wanted to have that view again. You leant against him, slumping back and putting your head on your shoulder. 

Peppering kisses along your shoulder, he sighed. “Fuck smoking, I don’t know how I’m going to quit you now. ”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

a/n: thank you for coming to my tedtalk. i needed to get that out of my system. i'm like speechless at myself because of how horny this is.

[bookshelf-dust]

something’s gotta give

gif by @kwistowee

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 5,988

warnings: swearing, crude jokes, sexual innuendos, general hatred for either party, one small mention of a judgmental christian lady, depictions of an accident involving a box cutter, talk of blood and the ensuing wound, banter, both reader and eddie trying to get under each others skin, enemies to lovers trope

synopsis: eddie munson is a prick. a prick who also happens to be your coworker. you hate his guts. he hates yours. and who would think there’d be reason for anything else?

a/n: well, hello!! i’ve been working on this idea for a little bit, and it was definitely a challenge because i’ve never taken on something with this dynamic before. it was so tricky to come up with all these snarky remarks, to build up a world where it made sense. speaking of, this is without a doubt a 90s!au. i am proud of myself for trying something new and i think it turned out pretty good. shoutout to @clovermunson for listening to me vent about my struggles and helping me mold eddie into the smartass he is. also thank you to @steph-speaks for making me a cutie rb banner!! peep it at the end of the fic. happy reading!!! <333

————

“Here’s your change and…there’s your receipt.” 

You bump the cash register drawer with your hip, slamming the thick metal shut. You give a big, warm smile to the woman in front of you. She has a face full of freckles and the most beautiful silver hair that makes her blue eyes look insanely vibrant. 

She grins back at you, setting her palm on the countertop, her nails painted a pale, shimmery shade of pink. “Thank you, sweet pea. And thank you for helping me find some goodies!” She shakes her paper bag. 

You hand her a complimentary bookmark with the store name on it. “You’re so welcome. You’ll have to stop by and let me know what you think about that one!”

“Of course! You have a good day, now.”

“You too!” You give her a small wave as she walks out the door, and move to put away the store’s copy of her receipt. Your smile drops immediately when you feel a looming presence behind you. The paper in your hand gets crushed when you shove it under the counter. 

“Damn, you flick the bean this morning?” Eddie’s voice drips with malice. You know he’s wearing that sinister ass smirk before you even turn to face him. 

“Why? Need some advice on how to find it, Munson?” You grab a stack of books off the counter and slide out of the way so he can clock in. 

The sound of his boots on the carpeted floors tell you he’s following you. He always is. 

“I think it’s a valid question, princess. You’re in such a good mood it makes a guy wonder…” 

You stop in the mystery section, looking for authors with the last name beginning with ‘F,’ and begin to restock. “Well, Eddie, if I got off and that’s why I’m so bubbly today, it’s pretty clear to me that somebody gave you blue balls last night.”

He laughs, snatching a book out of your hand to put it on the top shelf when he sees you rise up on your tippy toes. It pisses you off. “Harsh, princess.”

You turn around at the sound of the doorbell, but he stops you with an arm outstretched to rest on the wall. 

You grab his hand and shove it out of your way. “I guess you should’ve put that hand to good use then and given yourself a quick, and probably little, job before you came to your real one.”

When you escape his vicinity, you look around for the customer you heard come in. There’s a young boy wandering through the back section where you sell records, tapes, CD’s, whatever the fuck. It’s Eddie’s section, and therefore not your problem. 

You hold eye contact with the man in question, giving him your bitchiest look possible. “You have a customer, Munson. And…” you glance at your watch, “I’m going on lunch.”

Eddie watches as you cross your arms and march off to the break room. His gaze falls to your ass. You’re wearing this long skirt, one that falls just above your ankles so your boots poke out. The fabric is loose and flowy, but manages to cling to your skin and he can see every curve when you walk. Every bounce of soft flesh—

“Hey, excuse me?” The voice of a boy, no more than fourteen, snaps Eddie out of his dick-controlled reverie. 

He spins around to face the kid, putting on his customer service face. “What can I do for you, little dude?”

In the break room, you stand in front of the microwave, shifting back and forth on your feet while you wait for your leftover pasta to warm up. It’s rare now for your shifts to line up with Robin’s. She is a good coworker, and you’d built up this system, this rhythm, that Eddie has never even tried to build with you. 

God, you miss her. And you fucking hate Eddie Munson. 

You pull out a chair and sink down into it, too pissed to care that you’re essentially manspreading and certainly eating like a slob. 

What angers you the most is that you tried to be friendly with Eddie when he was hired. You have seniority over him, and you were happy to help him figure out how things worked. But he didn’t give a fuck. To you, it seemed like he was too good for your help. 

But the first time you saw him ask Robin for help, you realized that he just…didn’t like you. And you don’t know why. You have always been nice to your coworkers. You have no reason not to be. Except when you get to a point that you’re forced to match their energy. 

You down the rest of your drink. You need to go out and get some fresh air, despite the fact that it’s fucking scorching outside. 

Up front, Eddie gives the young boy his receipt and a little bag full of cassette tapes, buttons, and a patch that he helped him pick out. Another child saved from the masses of pop music, he thinks. 

He taps his ringed fingers against the counter, lowering himself so that his elbows rest against the cool vinyl. Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie catches a sticky note stuck to the edge of the computer monitor. 

The store’s goal total for today is written there, penciled messily in your handwriting. Eddie rolls his eyes. Why do you always have to be on top of everything like that? You’re so fucking uptight all the time Eddie’s surprised you don’t waddle because of the stick you permanently have up your ass. 

Ever since the day he got hired a few months ago, Eddie has despised you. He remembers taking a small tour of the shop and being introduced to you where you were organizing a new shipment of magazines. 

You stood, shyly fidgeting with the pin on your fitted denim vest. You were bubbly, with these sweet little doe eyes and an expression on your face like you were hoping to make a new friend. He remembers your palm feeling unsettlingly cold when he shook your hand, and now it all makes sense to him. 

What with the way you can change moods with the drop of a pin, how you manage to bring a storm cloud with you every time you walk in his direction but have everyone else wrapped around your finger. 

A cold-blooded bitch like you must surely feed on the souls of little children every morning. 

He hates how organized you are, how prepared. How you behave all patiently when you’re with a customer who’s been a prick, even though he knows it’s all an act because you’ll give him a death glare at any given chance. 

But most of all? He hates how fucking gorgeous you are. You’d think all that hatred would make you look like an old hag, but no. Instead you walk around in your skirts that show off that perfect ass and every once in a while you wear a shirt that shows the tiniest sliver of your stomach, or in some cases, your back, if you bend over. He hates when you wear those platform boots with the heels that allow you to level with him. 

And the fact that you’re walking toward him right now. 

Eddie watches as you strip off the cropped button-up you’d been wearing, exposing your bare arms. 

There’s a tattoo running up the length of your bicep that he’s never seen before. His gaze lingers on it for long enough that you catch it and raise a brow. 

“You cry when you got that, princess?” He points to the dark ink on your skin. 

You slide behind him and sit on the stool in front of the computer. 

“No, Eddie. I fell asleep. If you want to bond about how you wailed during each of your tattoo sessions, you’ll have to talk to Brian.”

He scoffs. “Guess you can handle a little prick then, huh?”

“I work with you everyday, don’t I?” You smile, but keep your eyes on the computer screen. There’s supposed to be a new shipment of books coming today, and your boss already asked you to set up the display when it gets here. That reminds you, and you speak before Eddie can give you a smartass remark. “Eddie, there’s a box of new vinyls in the back you’re supposed to sort and put out.”

“Yeah? I’ll get right on that, mom.”

You pinch your thumb and forefinger together so that you don’t snap. It’s such a shame that such a pretty man is such a fucking asshole.

The mouse starts to feel slick from your clammy hands as you click around, trying your best to track the package. Slam!

Eddie drops the box of records on the far end of the front desk, making you jump. He grabs a box cutter and pulls open the mess of cardboard and packing tape as aggressively as possible. 

Your head snaps in his direction. “Can’t you do that anywhere else, Munson?”

“Nah, babe. My only entertainment for the day is pissin’ you off, and I just clocked in.”

You facepalm. “Jesus fucking Christ, I miss Robin.”

Eddie cups his hand around the shell of his ear. “What’s that, princess? You need Buckley, huh? Bet she puts up with your shit.”

You stand up. “More like she puts up with me talking about the shit you put me through, because you masquerade as a sweet little angel when you work with her.” You’ve moved toward the other end of the counter before you can even realize, leveling with Eddie and getting in his face.

He places both of his hands on the table, grinning like the cat that got the cream. “Maybe it’s because Robin isn’t a fucking priss, and actually has a personality.”

That hits a nerve, and Eddie catches the way your brows twitch. But your poker face doesn’t slip, not for a second. Your eyes flick to the front door. 

“You have a customer, Munson. I’ll go take care of the records. Oh, and they’re a chick. Maybe you can go see if she has a personality that’s up to your standards and get your dick wet so that there’s a slight chance you become less of a raging asshole.”

Eddie looks over his shoulder at the young woman who’s just walked through the door. She has long, dark hair and more piercings than he can count. She’s his type, and he hates that you clocked that. When he turns back to you, you’re already taking the box off the counter. 

“Oh, and Eddie? Fuck you.”

You get the vinyls sorted and put away in record time. 

————

If it’s possible, the next day is hotter than the last. You’re sweating the second you walk out of your front door, your hairline quickly dampening and your thighs sticking together on the drive to work. 

You put on the one short dress you own today, grateful for the fact that your place of occupation doesn’t have a strict dress code. It’s too hot to wear anything, but the thin, mesh-like fabric and little spaghetti straps will do just fine. 

Luckily for you, Eddie’s shift doesn’t start until one, so you’ll be able to have a chill morning where you won’t feel like blowing your own brains out. Knock on wood, but you even feel a little giddy because Robin opened, which means she’ll be there to welcome you and greet you with a bit of peace. 

You pull open the front door, and pick up speed, knowing the cool air is just within your reach. The sounds of heavy metal reach your ears before you see him. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” 

You consider yourself lucky that the floor is empty, because you did not consult your conscience for one second before expressing your pure annoyance that Eddie is here before he was meant to be. 

You push up your sunglasses so they’re level with your eyebrows, and take a look at the figure standing behind the counter. There is no Robin anywhere in sight. “Where is Robin? Why the fuck are you here?” You catch Eddie’s gaze drag up and down your bare legs and that good mood flies right outside the front door. 

“Why are you dressed like that?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “What’s the matter, Eddie baby? You not see a lot of shoulders in that fuck ass club of yours?”

You pull your sunglasses back down over your eyes and grin, because you’ve just seen Eddie Munson blush. That one really hit the mark, and you are immensely pleased with yourself. 

Even more so when you realize he’s following you. You start switching your hips, knowing where his gaze is. You’re not as stupid as he thinks. 

His wallet chain is jingling, his hair flying behind him as he jogs to meet you in the middle of the store. If a customer were to walk in right now, they’d see the both of you standing nose to nose, a murderous look in your eyes, and probably feel like they’d just walked in on a taping for a soap opera. 

“What do you know about my fuck ass—” He coughs, practically chokes. “W-what do you know about Hellfire?” Eddie asks. You can almost see his blood boiling. 

You put your hand on his chest. “I’m a rogue, bitch.”

The sound of your laugh reaches Eddie’s ears before he’s even registered your hand on him, your breath on his neck, and that you’ve turned around and disappeared. There’s no way you’re not a witch. Are you a witch? What does a hex feel like? 

Eddie starts walking to the stacks, suddenly encouraged to see if you carry any witchcraft-related texts. The doorbell chimes and he’s forced to spin around. 

The group of people that have just pushed through the doors is huge. At least six teenagers of varying heights, followed by four or five college-aged kids. And they all look like they’re on a mission. Two of them head straight for the records, one for the magazines, and he loses sight of the rest down the romance aisle. 

In the back, you lock up your bag and shake out your shoulders. 

Your fingers fly over the radio, quickly changing the station Eddie had chosen to one you know plays much better music. You turn the dial down a little too, having already started to feel blood leaking out of your ears. 

At the counter, Eddie watches in horror as the teenagers grab armfuls of records and CDs. What’s worse is that a family of four walk in next. An older woman walks straight up to him. “Excuse me, sir?” Sir? What is he, a fucking mummy? “Where are your bibles and Christian novels?” He catches her eyeing the ink littering his pale arms. 

“I can show you to them, ma’am. If you wanna come with me, we’ve got a whole section just for that!” Your bubbly voice meets Eddie’s ears. And so do the sounds of “There She Goes” by The La’s. 

The woman turns on you, her smile brightening, and she’s quick to follow your purposeful step. Over your shoulder, you wink at Eddie. 

He knows it’s evil. He knows he fucking hates your guts. He hates that you’ve just charmed that red flag of a woman. But he’ll be damned if he fails to admit that his zipper didn’t feel just a little tighter at that faux flirtation in your expression.

“Let me know if you need help finding anything, alright? And if we don’t have anything in stock, we can always order it for you!” 

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes and you’re practically stomping on your way back to the counter. You use the walk to actually take in Eddie for the first time since you came in. 

He’s wearing a t-shirt that he obviously cut the sleeves off of at home, purely based on the way they’re fraying. His arms are…beefy, to say the least. His skin looks unnaturally soft, and his biceps are just so big and they look like they’re begging to be squeezed or bitten, even. 

Your eyes wander lower when he’s called over to help a child cart probably ten CDs to the counter. His jeans aren’t tight, not exactly. But they fit. He’s got more ass than most people would know what to do with. You can’t help but wonder what it looks like outside of that ratty denim. Or what else he might use that bandana for. 

You park yourself in front of the register, getting the system set up before the rush you can feel coming on. The cracks in the leather seat below you pinch your thighs, but you can’t be bothered to care. You deserve it for thinking of such a dickhead that way. Why are the gorgeous ones always assholes? 

A quick glance over your shoulder tells you that Eddie’s not helping kids anymore, but shamelessly flirting with a girl who can’t be more than twenty-one. She looks slightly intimidated by him, until he flashes his ring-covered fingers in front of her. You recognize that look, the one that tells you she might just eat him alive. 

You fear she’ll be immensely disappointed when she truly gets to meet his personality. 

In the time he’s been trying to woo this young lady, a line has formed, and now you’re stuck cashing people out. The Christian lady is first. 

“You find everything you needed today?”

She drops some change into the tip jar and takes a mint from the tray you just restocked. “Yes, I did, sweetheart, thank you for asking. You see that? Yes, that one—isn’t it gorgeous?”

She forces you to look at the fancy bible she’s picked out, and you do so despite the voice inside your head screaming for her to fucking pay already and get out because she’s been here long enough and the line is only getting longer. 

“It sure is!” You do your best to smile kindly. You hand her the receipt and a small card that not only thanks her for her purchase, but promises a ten percent discount if she comes back within the next month. 

The next customer is easy, a ten year old with a storybook that has colorable pages and a bookmark with rainbow tassels. You hand him a sticker and tell him you like his Gizmo shirt, and he beams his way out the door. 

When you are confronted with a set of parents who clearly have more kids than they seem to want, you feel a warm breath on the back of your neck. “You have a happy pill on you I can have?”

Eddie takes the stack of books out of your hands and places each one in a paper bag. The customers aren’t even looking at you, what with the husband fussing about inflation and How much for a paperback? and the toddler trying to eat the rug.

“No, sweetie,” you start, sliding the bag across the counter, hoping maybe the woman will notice and take her gaze off the street just outside the window. She takes it without looking at you, without a word, and the husband walks away mulling over the receipt, not bothering to do a headcount of kids. “I can’t keep up with your stash of boner pills.”

Eddie laughs. He tosses his head back, bearing his thick neck to you. It’s a slow sound. You can’t help but feel like it’s not something you should hear. It feels like the kind of laugh someone saves for a lover in privacy. And it’s so gravelly and deep. 

The line has slowed, and all that’s left for you to do is keep an eye out for the customers slowly making their way up front. 

You tilt your head a little in Eddie’s direction, signaling that you’re speaking to him. “You probably do need them though, based on the way you were eye-fucking that girl earlier. God knows you’re gonna need a little…happy to keep up with her.” 

Eddie bends a little at the knees, getting his head completely level with yours, his brown eyes twinkling with malice. “You think about my dick a lot, princess?”

You place your hand on the counter, less than an inch between yours and Eddie’s fingers. One move and they’d be touching. Hell, one step forward and your front would be pressed to his. “More like I worry about it,” you say. 

He quirks a brow, his lips ticking up at the corners. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Since I see you try and pick up a girl in the store at least three times a week and you know what? They never stick. So either it’s that you can’t get it up, or it’s that if you treated any woman as well as you treat that guitar of yours, maybe they’d be satisfied.”

Eddie takes a step forward. You’ve never been this close to him. “You know, Princess, they might not last, but based on your fucking attitude, it seems like you’re jealous.”

“Jealous?”

He pushes a strand of hair out of your face. Your blood pressure spikes. It feels like your veins are turning colors with how angry you are. Eddie has the nerve to laugh. 

“Yeah. I think all this bitchiness comes from the fact that no one will put their dick anywhere near you. They’re probably afraid you’ll make it shrivel up and die.” You don’t say anything, and he just keeps going. “Hell, I’m nice enough that I’d fuck you if that meant you’d get off my back.”

Your entire body goes rigid. And in that moment, you know that’s exactly what he wanted from you. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction. 

“Thanks for the offer, Munson. But I’d rather gouge my own fucking eyes out than let you touch me. If you wanna see me as a priss, that’s fine. But at least I’m not an insufferable prick who can’t give a damn about anyone who’s not shoved so far up my own ass and ready to fall at my feet at any given moment. Some people have to grow the fuck up.” You practically spit out the last few words, your voice laced with venom. 

Eddie blinks. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes glazed over. For the first time since he met you, he doesn’t have shit to say.

————

You and Eddie are the only ones on schedule today. 

You haven’t spoken in days, just moving around one another and doing your jobs in silence. You can’t lie about the pride you feel in your chest from having finally gotten to him. Even if the dead quiet is unsettling, you feel a sick sense of satisfaction. 

You think Eddie might’ve even mastered the art of a fake, but amiable personality. 

You’re currently hiding away in the back room, unpacking new shipments of books, vinyls, display materials, along with all the shit you actually need like paper for the register and cleaning supplies. 

Not that it matters where you are because you’ve had a total of one customer today. But that’s how Wednesday’s go. 

It’s sort of mindless, this activity. You slide the box cutter over the packing tape, rip open each box, take everything out, stomp the box flat, repeat. It’s not very stimulating, but you don’t hate it. 

The last box though is covered in enough clear tape to catch every fly in the world, and it’s taking some serious sawing to get through. You set your hand on the worn and slightly damp cardboard, bracing yourself to get one end of it loose. 

You’re just getting there when the blade finds a raindrop on the silky tape and slips free. You’re not expecting that, of course, and the blade slices the skin of your forearm quickly and thoroughly. 

You yelp, dropping the box cutter. You’re never one to wail or scream, but you let out a whimper at the shock of pain. Your non-dominant hand starts to shake as you take in the wound.

You’re too panicked to realize that your frightened exclamation could be heard up front, considering there’s no music playing and you left the receiving room’s door open. 

It doesn’t look deep enough to need stitches, but it’s bleeding. Quite a bit, actually. 

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.”

There are thudding footsteps, and then Eddie appears in the doorway. “Fuck fuck fuck, what? Bein’ so damn loud.” He pauses, taking in the sight before him. 

Your eyes are glazed over, your hands shaking, and you’re cupping your forearm so as to not let blood drip all over the floors. 

“Oh fuck off, I do not need this right now!” you exclaim, knowing he’s going to berate you or say something demeaning and you are not going to cry in front of him. 

Eddie says your name. 

He never says your name. It makes you look up at him, and you almost feel nauseous at the sincere look on his face. 

“Do you need me to drive you somewhere?”

You roll your eyes. “No, Eddie. I’m not fucking helpless! And I’m not bleeding out either!”

He steps towards you, his hands outstretched like he’s a ringmaster, like he’s trying to tame an apex predator. “But you are bleeding.”

“No fuckin’ shit, Sherlock—”

“Let me help you—”

You decide to shove past him, whimpering your way towards the bathroom. Eddie is on your heels. You try to shut the door in his face, but he plants his boot firmly on the floor and prevents you from it. His glare is unwavering. 

He repeats your name once more. It sends a shiver down your spine. “Just—just fucking stop for a minute, okay? Let me help you. Let me do this one thing without any of this shit, you hear me?” 

You blink. Eddie kicks the door stopper down so it stays open. His eyes flick to the toilet seat. “Sit.”

You’re too winded to say no. So you sit down, cradling your arm, while Eddie rummages around for gauze and wipes and whatever the fuck he can find because he’s not a nurse but he has had to clean himself up on more than one occasion. 

You can’t process that Eddie is treating you this way. Like a human. That he’s insisting on helping you when he doesn’t get anything out of it. 

When he returns, he settles on his knees in front of you, looking into your eyes to make sure it’s okay for him to touch you. You hate the way your stomach flips. But the little shift in your arm tells him it’s alright. 

Eddie’s fingers are cold on yours as he turns your forearm outward so he can look at the wound. You can’t help but watch as he works on you. Takes care of you. 

He sets a paper towel underneath your arm, using another to press down on your skin and make sure the bleeding has stopped. The pressure hurts, but you don’t say a word. 

Eddie hooks his foot around the corner of the trash can, pulling it closer. He throws out the bloody towel and wets another, being as gentle as he can in an effort to clean all of the dried red splotches from your skin. 

The cut isn’t deep, but it definitely nicked a few capillaries along the way. It is a little longer though, and Eddie has to use two big pieces of gauze to cover it. This is after he’d swiped your arm with alcohol wipes, grinning to himself because of how hard you were trying not to show him any weakness. 

Eddie’s thumb lingers on your skin long after he’s taped you up. You’re both silent, sitting in your shitty workplace bathroom. You can feel that he wants to say something, but you don’t know what. It’s why you haven’t gotten up yet. 

You notice his eyes on your face before you meet his gaze. “Will you look at me?” he says. Your heart jolts in your chest. 

“What for?”

“So that I can tell you why I’ve been a giant dick since I met you and you’ll see I’m being real with you.”

Your head shoots up, mainly because you can’t really believe he’s just said those words. “Hold on,” you laugh, “You’re going to explain yourself now? After I spent all that time trying to be your friend and you—”

“Treated you like shit, yeah I know.” Eddie drags his hands down his face. You’re not sure why, but you feel compelled to listen to him. “I showed up and you were there in your cute fucking skirts and you were so nice to everyone and just so…good? I couldn’t stand it.”

You blink. 

“I’m not like that. I’m not good with people and empathetic like you are and it takes me a long fucking time to do anything right. And I chose to take that out on you, to hate you, because you were so perfect, and that was easier than falling for you.”

Your mouth drops open. He what? Eddie waves his hands in your direction. 

“Close your mouth, you’re gonna catch flies. I hated that I could’ve dropped to my knees for you the second I met you. You looked at me like I was precious, like you were happy to meet someone new, and I’m such a fuck up, such a nuisance to so many people, that there was no way I was going to let a pretty girl like you befriend me and have me ruin it all. Because the truth is, I’d kill to be as fucking good as you are.”

You start shaking your head. You feel your eyes glaze over, so you look down at your freshly bandaged arm. 

“And I realize that the only reason you’re a dick to me is because I started that shit.”

You let out the barest hint of a laugh. “It’s called matching your energy. There wasn’t any point in trying to befriend you when you…hated me.”

Eddie says your name again. “I don’t hate you. I do hate myself though, and that I was so—”

“Jealous?” you interrupt, finishing for him. 

He tugs on the hair at the base of his neck. God, this is the most ridiculous fucking thing. 

“Yeah. Jealous that I don’t have as much good in me as you do. I’d see you working, see you happy to help anyone, see you pull more weight than anyone else here. I hated that you’re everything I’m not.”

When you finally look back up at him, you’ve gone all teary, and something inside Eddie breaks. It snaps. 

“We’re not supposed to be the same. If we were, nothing would ever work. You act like you’re just—just this helpless piece of shit, Eddie. You aren’t. But I can’t make you realize that. All I can do is tell you that if you want to be more charismatic—or whatever the fuck—you gotta work at it.”

He’s looking at you with his stupid ass doe eyes, and you think you finally understand him. 

“It doesn’t matter if you’re everything I am, Munson. No one else is livin’ your life for you.” You start to trail off, but not quite yet. “I wish you hadn’t been so fucking sincere so I could yell at you.”

Eddie tosses his head back, bearing his neck to you, and laughs. He raises his hands, beckoning you. “C’mon. Let me have it. You deserve it for how many times I’ve called you a priss.”

You shake out your shoulders, and if you weren’t still drained from the box cutter incident you’d jump up and hop back and forth like you’re readying to get in the ring. 

“I get it, you know? But I also don’t think it’s fair, because, and I’m gonna be honest here, the day you got hired I thought you were so gorgeous. Trust me, I was fully weak in the knees. You were also dressed like, well, you, and I wanted to at least make friends with you because you seemed, to use your words, good.”

“I heard you crack a few jokes, saw you picking up on how things worked, and then with me it was like you had this alter ego. I just don’t think it was fair that I got the short end of the stick here, even if I did enjoy being a smartass to you. So I guess what I’m really saying is, why me? Why weren’t you a dick to Robin, or Brian or fuckin’ Keith? Why not take out your jealousy on someone else?”

Eddie stands up, shoves his hands in his back pockets. “You can hit me if you feel like it, because I know this is going to sound fucked.” He pauses, and then all the words spill out at once, leaving you completely breathless when he’s finished. 

“Not only was I jealous of how perfect your soul is, but you being so sweet made me want you. I wanted you all to myself. I wanted that personality, those kind remarks, that look you get in your eye when you’re listening so well, I wanted it all around me, all the time. It felt like you were this fucking angel, I wanted to lose myself in you.”

“But it didn’t feel like I’d be worthy of you either. I figured you’d get sick of me, real quick, when you realized I wasn’t as good of a person as you. When you figured out all the shit I need to work through. It seemed easier to hate you than to have you see me the way everyone else does. Nobody wants a work in progress.”

You laugh. You take in your surroundings, still in the work bathroom, and you laugh. Eddie’s brows shoot up, and his heart drops out of his ass and onto the tile floors below him. 

“Eddie, everyone is a work in progress. And I am an extremely patient person.”

He recovers himself fast enough to make one more smartass remark. “You’re sure you don’t wanna kick me in the balls or somethin’?” 

You take a step towards him, breathing deeply. Breathing him in. 

“Not right now, Eddie. What’s frustrating though, is how much I want to kiss your dumb ass. Your annoying, over-complicating, completely ridiculous, stupid hot fucking ass.”

Eddie blinks. You might as well have kicked him in the balls because he can’t even think a single coherent thought now. Not with the way you’re pushing up onto your toes and pulling him down towards you, shaking your head so he doesn’t make up something stupid about not deserving it. 

And then your mouth is on his. Your lips are so warm, and everything else disappears. All Eddie can feel is you. Your perfume engulfs him, the heat of your chest pressed against him, the soft fat of your hip under his hand. When you pull on his hair he almost whimpers. 

You kiss hard, harder than he’d have thought, but it’s so gentle at the same time. You’re kissing him stupid. There’s no other way to put it. The only thing that pops in his head is that his suspicions about you being a witch were totally fucking spot on. 

When you finally pull away, your lips have gone all puffy, and there’s this dazed but incredibly satisfied look in your eye. He’d take you home right now and get on his knees for you if you’d let him. 

Your lips tick up at the corners, and he has to shake his head so he can really hear what you’re about to say. 

“Aren’t we on the clock, Eddie?”

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

[hangmanssunnies]

The Hangman Special

Summary: On a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem.

Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Word count: 7k

AO3 Link

Warnings: 18+ only, kissing, hot and heavy make-outs, exs, truth or dare, bad friends.

Author's note: Dreaming about kissing Jake in a bar. Thanks to everyone who looked at earlier drafts of this. I hope you enjoy this if you take a chance to read. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.

The bar is buzzing with the loud chatter of patrons, the clinking of glasses, and the rhythmic beat of music. You are sitting at a corner table with your friends, a group with an eclectic mix of personalities. You are known for being more on the shy and reserved side, but tonight, you are even more withdrawn than usual. No one had mentioned that Tassie had also been invited to the evening's hang out at the bar. An oversight you felt was probably intentional since everyone knew Tassie had started dating your ex only a week after your breakup. She went so far as to post a picture of them together on her Instagram. It had been a few months since that happened, and until now, you had managed to avoid running into her. However, it seemed like luck had run out.

"Hey, I've got an idea that would spice up the night," Cece says after the first round of drinks. She is one of your bold and outspoken friends, and you aren't sure you like how she is eyeing you with a mischievous glint. "Let's play truth or dare." 

The whole group groans at the suggestion, and one of your friends vaguely wonders if you're all still in middle school playing that kind of game. Despite the initial lack of enthusiasm, after another round of drinks, the group is laughing and entrenched in the game. 

When Cece sings your name when she finishes her turn, you are nervous by the sly smile she is wearing as she formulates an option for you when you hesitantly concede to doing a dare. "You're the only one of us still single, so I dare you to go over to the bar and give somebody a kiss." 

"What?!" 

"Just a quick one, nothing too scandalous," Cece says placatingly. "Come on, live a little! It's just a bit of fun. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I bet they won't do it. They're too chicken for this kind of thing, not one to step out of their comfort zone," Tassie says. It makes your blood freeze in your veins because you know those words. You have heard that criticism thrown at you in the past, but not from her, from your ex. 

Your eyes narrow at her, and you ask, "Too chicken? Seriously?"

"Yeah. Please, prove us wrong. Show us you can do something spontaneous," Tassie taunts, grinning. You feel a surge of defiance welling up. Even though you're reserved, you are not one to back down from a challenge, especially not when the woman who cheated with your boyfriend is acting like you're the one who should be ashamed. Acting like she is better than you. 

"Fine, watch this," You declare, feeling hot with a mixture of embarrassment and determination. As you stand up, your friends exchange amused glances, convinced that you are about to back out of the dare. 

With absolutely no intention of  backing down, though, you scan the bar. After a moment of examination your heart soars because you realize you have this dare in the bag. You have the advantage even, because there is a familiar tall, broad-shouldered blonde at the bar that you know all too well. Jake Seresin, or Hangman, is one of your brother's best friends, and he is looking just as delectable tonight as he always does. The group would undeniably be impressed with you kissing someone so handsome, and you knew one way or another you could convince Jake to help you out. 

"Cece, I'll even let you pick since you made the dare. Point out the hottest man in the bar, and I'll kiss him." You say confidently. There is no doubt that Jake is the most attractive person there, and he is just Cece's type, too. She falls right into what you want, pointing Hangman out for you. The rest of your friend group hoots, making even more comments that you aren't going to follow through with the dare and approach someone who is that drop-dead gorgeous. 

Ignoring their taunts, you square your shoulders and walk with as much confidence as you can summon into sashaying across the bar. Putting mental effort into trying to project some form of hotness onto yourself not only for the confidence boost but also the bit of spite burning in you. 

Reaching the bartop area, the hesitation starts to set in as you admire Jake's profile. He is sitting on a bar stool leaning against the counter, patiently waiting for the bartender in the crowd that is starting to grow. Taking one last breath to steady yourself, you reach out and delicately set a hand on his bulging bicep. 

"Hangman!" You say brightly as if you're surprised to have run into him. Jake turns to face you at your touch, and an easy wide grin spreads across his face. 

"Fancy seeing you here, my dear! How are you?" He asks as his eyes trace you slowly from head to toe and back again, the grin on his face not slipping once. 

"Oh, I’m fine, and I am so glad I ran into you." 

"Most people are," Jake says, winking at you. You are nearly distracted by his handsome face and flirty tone. He looks like he has put on even more muscle since you saw him last. The green button-down he is wearing appears close to bursting at the seams with how it clings to him. "So, what have you been up to these days?" 

"Are you still single?" You blurt quickly, ignoring his question, not wanting to lose your steam. 

"Yes, Ma'am. Last I checked. Why?" 

"Perfect, can you do me a huge favor?" You ask. 

"I'm always happy to help out a friend," Jake says, sounding increasingly suspicious. The smile hasn't dropped from his face, but his eyes have narrowed slightly, examining you. 

Quickly standing on your tip toes, you loop an arm around Jake's neck, appreciating that he is sitting on a stool, helping level your height difference. Wasting no time, you pull him down to meet you in a quick kiss. Once his lips brush yours, you let go of him, stepping back, not even taking a moment to savor the feeling or enjoy having Jake this close. 

With your mission accomplished, you have every intention of making a hasty retreat back to your friends and hoping that you will be able to forget this. You are going to erase knowing you've kissed Jake Seresin from your brain, and then the next time you see him, you're going to pretend this fiasco never happened. It feels like the best and only course of action for you to take. 

However, you don't even get to make a full step away from Jake before large hands and thick arms circle around your waist, pulling you back towards him. He tugs until you are standing between his spread thighs, his hands maintaining their position on your waist. 

"Woah now, where do you think you're going?" He asks, eyes darting around your face, studying you closely. 

Embarrassment at having to explain your actions rushes through you, turning your stomach and overriding or maybe enhancing the butterflies there. You glance away from Jake towards your friends and see them watching with rapt attention. Then his thumb moves in a slow soothing circle, drawing you back towards him. 

"I'm sorry! My friends dared me to kiss someone at the bar, and when I saw you, well, I knew it wasn't a lost cause because you're not a complete stranger." 

You refuse to believe that the frown that flashes on Jake's face is one of disappointment. However, it's hard to ignore when his eyebrows are scrunched together, and his hands are so warm you feel it bleeding through your clothing. 

"You could at least buy someone a drink before stealing a kiss, you know. That's just some common decency." 

"I'm so sorry, Jake," you apologize again. "Let me buy you a beer for your troubles." 

"Naw, you don't got to." 

"Well, now I have to because you made me feel bad," you say, waving your arm to try and flag down a bartender. 

"I didn't take you for one to just kiss someone on a dare," he says conversationally. You try not to wriggle uncomfortably in his hold, but without even trying, he seems to have pulled you even closer. 

"I normally wouldn't be," you agree. "But the girl who I highly suspect of cheating with my ex while we were still together is here. I'm sure she thinks she's better than me and that I'm a boring prude."

"She clearly has never been around when you drink tequila," Jake laughs. You can't believe he would still remember the camping trip from years ago, where you were drinking tequila. Definitely notable because it was probably the last time you had dared have any of the liquor. 

"Can you please forget about that? And tonight, too?" You request. Jake pretends to think it over, humming lightly before shaking his head. 

"Sorry, no can do. It's already burned into my eidetic memory." You huff at his response, avoiding eye contact with him to try and catch sight of the bartender again. "You know, if you just asked me first, I would have given you the friends and family discount." 

"And what is that?" 

"Pretty similar to buy one get one free," he says, his voice dropping a little lower. Your mouth falls open in surprise, but you can't find any words. "Could have given you more than a quick peck, something that would really wow your friends." 

Trying very hard not to imagine what kind of kiss Jake would consider wowing, you decide to deflect. Jokingly saying, "Didn't think you were from one of those kinda southern states. Do you make a habit of kissing family members?" 

Jake throws his head back and laughs full-bellied at you. "The friends and family of my friends discount then," he amends. 

"I already hate being in this situation. I don't want more of a pity handout than I've already taken."

"Darlin," he sighs, shaking his head at you. "I would have even given you the Hangman special. Which is a deal, bargain, and steal. Comes with a kiss that's guaranteed to impress friends, people who cheated with your atrocious ex, everyone in this bar, and has even been known to, on occasion, inspire a standing ovation." 

"Ha.Ha. You're so funny," you say dryly, rolling your eyes. 

"I am, thank you for noticing," Jake says. "However, I think you deserve that kind of kiss to prove a point to your friends over there." 

"They didn't even think I would be able to make it over here to talk to you." You admit to him, glancing over at your friends again, a little displeased that they are still obviously observing your interaction.

"That them over there?" He asks, following the direction you're looking. You hum in acknowledgment. "Which one's the cheater?" He breathes, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, sending a shudder down your spine. 

You describe Tassie a bit to him, finding yourself shifting closer into his embrace, enjoying how he is somehow able to help most of the chaotic bar disappear from your senses. It's hard to think about the noise or the increasing number of people starting to press in when Jake's touching you. When he picks out who she is, Jake grunts a little. He lowers his face and nearly kisses your neck over the pulse point. His hot breath tickles the spot, causing shivers again as he declares, "I don't see the appeal." 

"Wish my ex felt that way," you sigh. 

"Fuck him," Jake says with conviction. Drawing a bit back from you to make eye contact again. His green eyes are clear, and in the dimmed mood light around you, they seem to shine even brighter than usual. 

"You sure you don't mind me having kissed you to prove a point?" 

"My dear," he laughs like you told him a funny joke. "I can't imagine a situation where I would mind you kissing me. Let alone one where I get to help you out." 

Sliding your hand up his chest to casually rest on his shoulder, you wonder, "Is the Hangman Special still available?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Guaranteed to be wowing?" You check. 

"Got a warranty for you and everything," Jake says lowly. 

Your hand curls around Jake's neck again, and you attempt to tug him closer to you. He doesn't even budge, though. One of his hands slowly traces up your side from your waist until he is cupping your cheek. Then Jake leans close, his breath ghosting over your lips, where he lingers for a moment. Your eyes flutter closed, and as soon as they do, his lips press to yours. This time, it's not a quick peck. 

He is slow and deliberate in how he kisses you. Tilting his head to the side to get a slightly better angle, Jake uses his hand on your face to urge your lips to align better with his. Pliable to his touch, you open your mouth to him, seeking even more, and rewarded when Jake's tongue brushes against your own. You never doubted that Jake would be a good kisser, but knowing firsthand is something you know you won't be able to erase from your memory. When the kiss starts to border on indecent, he pulls away. 

You linger in the moment, keeping your eyes closed until your heart doesn't feel like it's going to burst from your chest. While you are in that limbo spot, his thumb slowly strokes your cheekbone. Sea glass green is the first thing you see when opening them again, Jake not making any effort to veil how he is admiring you. His lips are slightly pinker now than they just were, and you can't help but imagine how pink and swollen they would get if you had the opportunity to get this man alone on a couch. 

Just as you consider requesting that he kiss you again, just to really really solidify how good you are to your friends, because obviously, three kisses are much better than the one they dared you to get, you are suddenly bumped from behind. The motion roughly shoves you against Jake's solid chest. Both his hands automatically return to your waist, tightening as he steadies you there. Glaring over your shoulder at whoever bumped you, he asks, "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah, I'm okay," you breathe. Being this close to him, the woodsy scent of his cologne tickles your nose. And you suddenly wonder why exactly he is in this upscale cocktail bar dressed so nicely. 

"I'm glad you decided to kiss me and not any of these other assholes," he mutters darkly, still glaring over your shoulder. 

"Well, it wasn't really a choice." You reveal, which has his eyes snapping back to you in an instant and a frown pulling at his lips. One of his thumbs that's resumed making circles on your waist stops, and the other falls off your waist entirely now. He doesn't move otherwise, but his presence feels less consuming. Tersely, he responds, "I see." 

"I may have skewed the odds. Told my friends to pick the hottest man they could find. What would you know? They picked you." You explain quickly.

"That's some good luck on your part." 

"It wasn't luck, not really."

"How do you mean?" He wonders. 

"I knew they would pick you." 

"What made you so confident?"

"Because, Jake, you are, hands down, the most attractive person here," you reveal to him shyly. Your fingers curling into his silky shirt, where they have found themselves on his chest after being pushed. 

"See now, I don't think that's true," he says, his eyebrows pulling together. The frown is gone though, the edges of his lips quirking up again. 

"Oh please, Jake. Do not pretend you don't know how handsome you are."

"I'm aware. However, that doesn't change the fact that you're the most attractive person in this bar tonight." 

"You're a flirt," you accuse him. 

"I am," he agrees with no argument. "But that don't make me dishonest or mean I'm not genuine. I haven't been flirting with you just for the sake of it." 

Warmth blooms in your center at his words, and you nearly forget all about trying to escape away from him. Right now, you just want to get closer, as close as he will let you. However, you are pulled out of the fantasy when you look away from Jake's intense gaze to see your friends and how most of the table seems shocked and scandalized. Wryly, you notice Cece giving you two thumbs up. It's like you could almost forget that this was just him being flirty and imagine he was kissing you for more than just helping prove a point. "Well, I appreciate your help with the Hangman Special. I know they will all be impressed and jealous when I head back over there." 

"Now, wait a moment. You can't just sneak away. The Hangman Special not only comes with mind-blowing kisses but also a free night out, all expenses paid, and dinner at any restaurant you choose. "

"You just give that away to any random person who asks?"

"No, only the pretty ones I've had my eye on for a long while," Jake says, his eyes intense, the hand still on your waist flexing tighter for a moment.

"You have?" You ask, completely surprised. 

"Yes, Ma'am," he replies with no hesitation. Before you can respond, the bartender finally makes his way over to you two, asking for your order. Jake instantly defers to you before ordering, asking, "What do you want, my dear?" 

"I thought I already told you I'm taking one of the Hangman specials." You say, after taking a moment to think it over. The grin that lights up Jake's face is sunny and bright, and if you weren't being supported by his strong body, you would have probably fallen over swooning. 

Turning back to the bartender, Jake requests two bottles of water and both of your tabs. As you peek over his shoulder while he signs, you see the bill consists of just one beer, the water, and the two drinks you've had tonight. 

"So you want the full experience?" He asks you when you've taken a sip of water, and he has downed half of his in the same time. 

"From what I know about you, Jake, I don't think you're someone who does things by halves," you answer, fiddling with one of the buttons on his silky green shirt. Then you are pushing a bit on his chest, trying to step away. When you do, Jake's hands find themselves on your hips again pulling you closer to him. 

"Where you going?" He pouts. 

"I just need to grab my purse." 

"Whatcha you need your purse for, sweetheart? Don't you know I ain't going to let you pay for nothing?" Jake drawls. 

"I'm sure you want that to come off gentlemanly, but you're close to flirting with misogynistic." You say, playfully poking a finger into his chest.

"No." Grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips, Jake brushes a kiss on your pulse point, saying, "I know exactly who I'm flirting with, and that is you, my dear." 

The laugh you let out is slightly involuntary, but it makes Jake look like he won a prize, so you can't be too displeased, especially not when he has resumed drawing circles on your skin, and it feels like some sort of hypnosis you never want to end. "I'll be right back, and you can keep flirting with me for as long as you like." 

"That a promise?" Jake asks.

"Sure thing," you agree, but Jake still hasn't let go of you. 

"Do you want some company?" 

"You don't have to." 

"Little worried you're going to try and sneak away," he admits. 

"But Jake, I am sneaking away," you say in a fake whisper as if sharing a secret. "Sneaking away with you from my friends and this bar." It makes him smile again, just like you were hoping it would. "Just wait here for me. Okay?"

"Okay," he reluctantly agrees. Despite agreeing, the hold he has on your hand actually slightly tightens. "One more kiss?"

"I'm starting to get the feeling that you're always going to want one more kiss."

"You already know me so well," Jake grins. You press your lips against his again in a quick kiss, careful not to get caught up in it, before slipping out of his grasp. When free, you practically skip away from Jake to grab your things. 

Arriving back to your friends, you're greeted with loud whooping and even some clapping thrown in. Cece is practically giggling as she says, "I really didn't think you had that in you." 

"What were you talking about for so long?" Another one of the group asks.

"Was that kiss as hot as he is?" Someone else wonders, and then questions are coming from every direction before you can answer any of them. 

"It was great, he's great." You manage to get in. When they start to flood you with even more questions, you cut them off. "I would love to talk all about it, but I'm sorry y'all, I'm actually just over here to grab my purse." 

"There is no way you are leaving with that guy," Tassie says incredulously. 

Irritation and anger flares up in you as you turn to glare at her. "Really, there's no way? And why would that be Tassie?" 

"Come on," she says, clearly surprised that you've decided to call her out. "You're just not the kind of person to go home with someone from the bar, and he doesn't really seem like your type." 

"I don't know how tall, handsome, funny, and phenomenal kisser could not be someone's type," You say harshly, snatching your purse and jacket from where you had been sitting. 

"I'm just trying to look out for you," she responds sharply. 

"I don't think that's true," you snap back. 

"Hey now, why don't we all chill out," your friend Marv cuts in placatingly. 

"Sorry to interrupt," a familiar southern drawl says from behind as a warm arm wraps around your shoulder. You nearly sag into Jake. The urge to explode on your friends, more specifically Tassie, instantly absorbed by his presence. "But I was promised I could take this one out on a date tonight." 

"We can't let our friend just leave with a stranger," Cece says, and you turn to narrow your eyes at her, frowning that she is butting in when she is the one who set all this into motion in the first place. 

"While I respect that, I don't think you get to make that decision," Jake says lightly and a lot nicer than you would have in that moment. 

"You could be a crazy serial killer or something," Tassie says. 

"While I am a killer, that's normally just how people describe me in bed," he answers in a flirty, exaggerated way. That has you nearly coughing, you suck in air so hard. He gently pats your back and continues on. "If you're really worried though, you can look me up on Instagram. That's at LT.H_ANGM_N. I hope y'all have a good night. I know we will be," Jake punctuates the sentence with a kiss to the side of your head. 

Stuck between laughing and balking you glance around at everyone’s surprised faces at Jake’s boldness. You know exactly what Jake's last Instagram post was, having spent several minutes the other day debating whether you should like the shirtless picture of him on the beach. 

"Are you ready, sweetheart?" Jake asks you, practically muttering the words in your ear. All he needs is your nod before he confidently starts to turn you and lead you out the door. You manage to throw your friends a small wave goodbye, but it only takes a few steps for them to be out of your mind. 

"Did you drive?" Jake asks you as the fresh evening air rushes over you both. 

"No.” And you’re glad you didn’t when it means Hangman will be driving you home.  

"Good," he grins, "do you mind me driving?" 

"I don't," you answer easily, completely content to follow Jake to wherever he is going to lead you. 

He stops in front of a Jeep Gladiator, and you aren't overly surprised by his taste in vehicles. He goes to open the passenger side door for you, but you don't immediately take his offered hand to get inside. Instead, you tug it as you lean against the side of the truck. Jake follows the motion easily, not hesitating to bend down and mold his lips to yours. 

Jake looms over you, one of his hands balancing his weight against the side of the truck just over your head. The other on your side pulling you a bit closer to him. Looping your arm around his neck for some leverage, you let Jake take over your senses. The softness of his tongue paired with how he nibbles at your lower lip pulls a little whine from you.

When you have to pull away for a ragged breath, Jake groans low in his throat as you press teasing kisses down the column of his neck to the V of skin his shirt shows off. The hand on your waist slides up to cup your cheek and pulls you back to his lips. Kissing Jake is easy, he doesn't leave enough room for you to question if he's enjoying it. Nor do you have the capacity to overthink it as Jake's lips move surely and confidently with your own. All there is is him, his warm strong body, soft lips, and the calluses of his fingers. 

Leaning backward, you pull Jake with you wanting to have him pressed flush because even though you're tasting him, caged in, surrounded by him it still isn't close enough. However, the motion presses one of the Jeep’s jutting door hinges sharply into your back. You can't help but gasp a small "ow" as you try to shift. Concern creases Jake's features, and he pulls you away from his truck into his chest, glowering at the vehicle as if it had somehow betrayed him. 

"You okay, darlin?" He asks, his hands tracing down your back checking for injury. You lean more into his chest even though you don't really need the support, it's just nice to be in his arms. 

"I'm fine," you reassure him. 

"Let's get you out of harms way." He says pulling open the passenger side door. As you start to heave yourself into the tall truck Jake is practically picking you up and easily setting you in the seat. You blink at him in surprise at his show of strength. He remains there, standing in the open door, leaning closer and placing his hand just above your knee, his thumb drawing circles there. Then he asks, "So, where would you like to grab some dinner, my dear?" 

"I've heard of this really great restaurant I've been dying to go to."

"Yeah? Let's make it happen then." 

"Mhmm," you hum in confirmation. "It's called Hangman's House." 

Jake's thumb immediately stops moving and the smile on his face seems to shift. The genuine glint there slipping away, to something hard for you to really identify, practiced or guarded. Whatever the change was you don't find yourself liking it and immediately wonder where you misstepped. 

"So, Hangman's House, that's a pretty exclusive place. They don't usually do unplanned reservations," Jake says after what's nearly an awkward silence. 

"That's too bad. I heard that they have great service." You say a little dejected but glad he told you no in a casual manner that you can play off. 

"You're in luck though, my dear, because I know the owner. I think he would be willing to make an exception for us sometime, but they are better known for their breakfast menu." Jake responds upbeat again. 

"I like breakfast." You mutter in what you think is a flirty way. However, it's obvious that you've missed the mark when Jake's hand drops off your leg completely now. 

"Listen, if this is just a one-night thing, just some making out and fun stuff, where you are going to leave in the morning and pretend it never happened next time we see each other," he says seriously. Pausing, he runs a hand through his hair taking a measured breath, and you watch as the muscle in his jaw flexes. "That's fine, but I need to know it now." 

As you study his face intently it occurs to you that maybe even men like Jake Seresin have insecurities. Maybe he was used to interacting with people where more often than not they only saw him as a handsome face with a nice body. People who were ready to leave the next morning. The realization that a one night stand isn’t the series of events he is interested in with regards to you twists a pit of uncertainty in your stomach. You feel a little uneasy not sure exactly where you stand or what he wants with you. 

Reaching to catch Jake's lost hand and tangling your fingers, you start playing with the big class ring he is wearing. He allows the movement and relaxes his hand further, giving you additional leeway. The distraction of Jake's fingers gives you the courage to say, "I guess maybe I misunderstood that this was going to just be a nice fun night with you. Is that not what you were looking for?" 

"I do want that," Jake says adamantly. " However, I don't just want that." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I want to bring you flowers, dance with you, write you love letters. I want to explore every inch of your body and heart until I know what makes you tick. I want you to forget that any other man besides me even exists." Jake presses himself close to you again, and he turns his hand to thread your fingers tightly together. "Now I'm good, and I mean really good my dear, but those aren't goals I can make happen in one evening. So I want to start with tonight, taking you out and giving you a good time. And then I want to do the same thing tomorrow or whenever you have free time. I want to do that for as long as you will let me." 

"Oh wow," you breathe, taken aback by his declaration. "That's kind of a lot." 

"I know, but I don't want my intentions to be unclear. I wasn't lying when I said I've had my eye on you for a while. I'm happy to go at whatever pace you need; I'll do whatever you want. However, if this was all just getting back at your ex and proving a point. If you can't see yourself wanting anything more with me past tonight again, I need to know." Now, Jake takes his turn playing with your fingers as he breaks eye contact to stare at where you're intertwined. "I'll happily let you break my heart, but I don't want to be blindsided by it. 

Surging forward, you pull Jake in to kiss you again. It's an awkward angle, and the way the truck makes you taller than him feels odd. However, none of that matters when his lips are so pliable against yours. 

"I don't want to break your heart," you tell him between kisses. "I want to go on dates with you, and I want to go home with you. I want to go to bed with you and do it more than once if we find out we are compatible." 

"Are you doubting our compatibility?" Jake asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"Not really, but you know it's better to make sure with these things. Have to double check, I think." 

"That makes sense," he concedes. 

"Now let's get some food so you can take me home and then to bed. Show me these killer skills you mentioned earlier." 

"We can do a lot tonight, but we can't sleep together," Jake says mournfully.

"Why not?" You ask confused. 

"Everyone knows you don't sleep together until the third date," Jake drawls.

"That's a cliche. Plus, why does it really matter?" 

"Because I've been dreaming about forever with you, and when you want forever with someone, you don't want to skip any steps." Jake answers, dead serious and earnestly. It makes you wish you weren't in such an awkward position in the truck. If you were still outside pressed against it, or in the bar even, it would be so much easier to show him the appreciation and affection burning inside. 

"We've got to be somewhere near the third date by now. We have tonight and that camping trip we went on. Oh, and that one time that everyone went bowling. Plus, there was that bonfire a few months ago!" You say, trying to think of occasions you and Jake had spent a good amount of time together. While considering it, you also realize he has nearly always gravitated to your side during group interactions, and going off tonight, that clearly wasn't as coincidental as you had previously thought. 

"You deserve real dates," Jake responds with conviction, and the look in his eye really isn't something you can or even want to argue with. There isn't anything wrong with someone wanting to act like a gentleman with you; it's actually flattering, especially when it's clear Jake isn't going to play any guessing games with you concerning his feelings. 

"Well, then we are wasting time when we could be on our first date," you say, pressing another peck to his lips and lightly pushing him away from you. 

"One last kiss," Jake whispers as he lurches close again for another peck. Then, he gently closes your door and jogs over to the driver's seat, asking where you want to get a bite to eat. 

The two of you end up at a fancy Italian restaurant where you share an appetizer, bottle of wine, and dessert. During dessert, Jake insists you pose for a picture. Despite your initial resistance, he convinces you, and then, nearly as soon as he takes it, your phone lights up with a notification telling you that you’ve tagged you in his story. He tells you before you even ask that he hopes your friends looked him up on Instagram but requests that you repost it on your own just in case they didn't. He claimed it's so they know he's not kidnapped you, but you suspect that it's more likely he wants to prove a point. And it's something you don't mind one bit, especially when he easily lets you post a picture of him on your own story. 

After the restaurant, Jake drives you both out of town a bit to where the sky is much clearer and the stars are visible. The evening isn't warm enough to cuddle in the truck bed like he wanted, so instead, you end up in the backseat with the moon roof completely rolled back. You manage to pretend to be looking at the stars for about three whole minutes before crawlingl into Jake's lap to kiss him. 

Before the making out can get too heated, Jake grips your chin, urging your face upwards to look through the moonroof. Gruffly, he mutters into your ear, telling you to behave. Words that only make you squirm in your newfound place sitting on his lap. He lets you stay there, though, his hands steady on your hips, and his lips leisurely brushing yours or your neck whenever inspiration strikes. 

"What were you doing out tonight looking so nice?" You wonder absentmindedly, unbuttoning the top button of Jake's shirt. It's not with an ulterior motive. Really, it's because Jake's shirt is so soft, and the top of it is hiding his dog tags from you, which you have suddenly decided is unacceptable. The new skin exposed to you is just an added benefit. 

"Ah, nothing to worry about darlin'." 

"Common, you can tell me," you say, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. 

"You know, whinnies?" 

It takes you a moment to place the restaurant and remember that it's across the street from the bar where you met up with your friends. "The wine bar?" 

"Yeah," Jake confirms. "Well, I was on a date there." 

"Oh." When Jake doesn't say anything, you decide you have to push the conversation forward. "So, what happened to your date? Were they not nice?"

"No, she was real sweet," Jake says, and you feel your stomach drop as if you aren't in the back of his truck and sitting in his lap right now.

"So why did you end up at Gem's?" 

"I was checking Instagram before she got there, and I saw you post that you were at Gems, right across the street. And no matter how nice she was, I knew it wasn't fair that I was thinking of a different person the whole time. So, we didn't even make it through appetizers before I had to be honest with her about that, and then I swung by Gems, hoping I would bump into you." 

"You were at the bar just to see me?"

"Sure was. So imagine my surprise when you found and approached me first."

"How would it have gone if you had approached me first?" You wonder. 

"For one, I would have offered to buy you a drink before stealing a kiss," Jake says teasingly. 

"You're not going to let that go, are you?" 

"Probably not for a while," he tells you. You groan and hide your face in his neck as if that will save you from some of the embarrassment. Feeling his chuckles in his throat and rumble in his chest is soothing, and you pepper more kisses to his neck and collarbone as if you were tracing the sound.

"You wouldn't have left without a kiss, though?" 

"I wouldn't have left without seeing you, and I would have done everything to try and convince you to give me one," Jake promises. 

"How would you have kissed me for the first time?" 

"Are you asking for another demonstration?" he wonders. As soon as you nod in affirmation, he pulls you close, repositioning you on his lap so you're straddling him. The darkness of the truck makes it so you can't quite see how green his eyes are, despite that they are still somehow bright.  He holds eye contact with you for a long moment. His hand cups your cheek, and like earlier in the night, he pauses, not closing the gap, observing you close. When you try to lean forward and seal your lips, he backs his head away. Then he chastises you while wearing a smirk, "I'm goin' to kiss you, baby. Now, let me do it how I want." 

Anticipation tingles in you as Jake leans close; however, at the last minute, he swerves, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then the other cheek, your forehead, and your nose. Finally, his lips meet yours firmly. Closing your eyes, you sigh into the kiss. The feeling of being intimately connected to Jake again is nearly the same as relief. When your mouth opens, Jake licks into you, searching out your tongue with his own. 

There no longer seems to be any will in Jake to tamper down the heat of your kissing. He allows you each time you push the envelope of the moment being just the soft sweet first date kissing he initially claimed to want. As he sucks on the sweet spot, her discovers on your neck, the way you grind downwards is involuntary and completely by accident. A low moan comes from Jake, and you like the way it sounds. So, the next time you grind down on him, it's completely intentional. 

The dark slacks he is wearing don't do much to conceal his hardened length. After a few more rolls of your hips, Jake's hands tightly grip your waist helping you grind against him. He urges you into a rhythm that has whimpers, moans, and gasps passing from both your mouths between hot kisses. As you try to speed up, frantic lust beating so loud you can hear it in your ear, he doesn't let you. Though you are on top of him, there is no doubt that Jake is in complete control. 

Just from this night, it's not difficult to imagine how he will be in the bedroom. Strong,  consuming, and in control. You can picture how he will confidently lead you exactly where you want to go, and you will get there because just a back of the car's make-out shouldn’t cause someone to be as turned on as you are right now. You unbutton his shirt and let your hands roam over his chest. Dragging your nails along his abs causes a full body shudder and Jake to grip your ass so hard you think you might bruise. It doesn't bother you, though, because how can anything that gets you closer to his cock be a bad thing? 

“Jake,” you say in a sudden moment of clarity. He hums his acknowledgment but keeps kissing at your neck and squeezing at your ass. A particularly hard thrust upwards from him nearly has your brain going fuzzy as you desperately try to hold yourself together.  “Jake,” you repeat more forcefully, “we need to stop.” 

“What’s wrong?” He asks concerned, detaching his lips from your skin and losing his hold so he is barely touching you. 

“If we keep at this I'm going to beg you to fuck me right here right now,” you answer. He makes a strangled groan. With his swollen lips, lust filled eyes, and hard dick you're sure he wouldn't actually mind. “Which would be amazing but you told me about a three date rule and I agreed.” 

“I did say three dates,” he responds and looks like he hates himself for it. 

“But if it doesn't actually matter I would like to suck your cock at least once before we fuck.” You boldly tell him, twisting his dog tags in your fingers pulling them taut against Jake’s neck until the release beads give away. The chain falls into your grasp, and you use the warm metal to distract yourself. 

“Fuck me,” he breathes throwing an arm over his eyes and leaning back. “You're perfect, you know that?” 

“I'm not.” 

“You are. So perfect, so hot.” He kisses you like he's about to ignore what you just said. Hot and a little sloppy with tongue and a bit at your lower lip. When he pulls away he rests his forehead against yours saying, “We are going to stop now  because I don't want there to ever be a doubt in your mind that I'll keep the promises I make to you.”

Your stomach flips with affection, and you sag, leaning heavily into Jake, just hugging him tightly, waiting for the lust that's sparked to cool. The two of you even manage to get some actual stargazing in where hands roam but in more so in an exploratory way than sexual. 

Holding hands driving back into the city you can’t stop staring at Jake’s profile, or admiring his fingers or tracing the veins of his forearms. You are focusing on trying to convince yourself that this isn’t a dream, you're definitely going to wake up with hickies in the morning, and another date with Jake Seresin scheduled tomorrow. It’s something that if you had been told at the start of your evening, you would have laughed at the absurdity of the idea. 

"I know it's really soon, but do you think that if you asked me again in a few weeks if I'm still single, we'll be able to change my answer?" Jake asks you after a bit breaking the comfortable silence you two had been in. 

"I think that's possible. What do you think about that?" You wonder. 

"I would change my answer tonight if you wanted me to."

"Jake..."

"Listen, I really like you, and I don't see that changing anytime soon. So as soon as you give me the okay, I will bring you flowers with a promise ring and ask if you want to go steady with me." Jake's thumb rubs along your pulse affectionately, "I'll change my Facebook relationship status. I'll get a nice little charm with your name on it for my dog tags. I'll take you to meet my friends and brag about how amazing you are." Jake leans over at a red light to press a soft kiss to your lips. "The whole shebang." 

"That sounds nice. Does that deal have a special name, too?" 

"Yeah, we can call it the Jake special. It is a whole package, long-term, all-inclusive deal." 

"Extended warranty?" You check jokingly.

"It actually has a no-return, no-refund policy," Jake answers.

"That's a pretty big commitment," you whisper back, even though the idea of keeping Jake all to yourself sounds nothing but appealing. 

"It's not something that expires. So how about tonight, we just worry about getting you home where you're going to let me walk you to your front door and give you a kiss goodnight."

"Just one kiss?" You ask in a pretend pout. 

"Let's shoot for two, but don't be surprised if it's three, maybe even four." 

"I want five," you declare stubbornly.

"Then I'll give you six," he easily offers. 

You try to hide your smile but don't quite manage it. It's a permanent fixture the whole drive home and during all seven of the goodnight kisses you get. They aren't the best kisses in the world because Jake is smiling through them, too. It's okay, though, because you both know there's going to be more in the future, a lot more. 

[rosemaeridream]

hate is no better than love. | (M)

Mature content (18+)

fashion-designer!aeri x photographer!fem reader

warnings: inevitable hate fuck?, strap, bottom!aeri, top!reader, a little bit of roughhousing from both sides, intense back scratching, nude/pornographic photography, do they actaully hate each other or is the sexual tension too much???

A/N: whoever asked for this BEFORE armageddon i'm so sorry lmfao + this hasn't been beta'd mistakes will be present

word count: 4.6k

Uchinaga Aeri is not a woman you love.

She’s rich. She’s popular. She’s arrogant. She’s manipulative. She has a fucking smirk soldered onto her lips at all points of time. It’s infuriating. 

Wholly.

Completely. 

Utterly.

It makes perfect sense why Aeri isn’t your kind of person. She’s everything you’re not–both the bad and the good. 

And yet, God be damned, she’s always nearby. 

It’s not like you’re trying to seek her out. She’s studying fashion (or something you couldn’t be bothered to figure out) while you’re doing some arts degree. It didn’t matter, just as long as you weren’t in the same course.

And yet, God be fucking damned, she’s always nearby.

You’re on your way to the station, and she’s giggling with her friends behind you, somehow loud enough to pierce through the noise-cancellation of your headphones. 

You’re studying outside one of your lecture halls, waiting for your next class, and she’s checking her appearance in the window’s reflection thirty steps away.

You’re on a fucking walk at the beach, kilometres away from the university, and damned Uchinaga Aeri is there, laying back in a chair, sunglasses shielding her eyes and only clad in a bikini.

You could easily not love Aeri. Not loving just meant not caring. But when you see the woman four out of seven days a week when you have no reason or wish to; resentment stews in your gut.

Especially now, as she’s sitting down in front of you – with that stupid fucking perpetual smirk and an undescribably huge iced coffee – and closing the lid of your laptop mid-keystroke.

“What?” You break the silence between you, not at all happy that she’s here and seizing your precious study time. And you know she can tell; she’s even enjoying your irritation – it’s evident in how she rests her jawbone on her fist while lazily swirling the straw in her coffee.

“I heard from a certain somebody that you take photos.” She preens under your gaze and leans in a fraction like she’s telling you a secret. It comes off haughty; she thinks she’s better than you, and you have no idea why she’s doing it.

That’s debatable. But what isn’t debatable is that you do take photos.

“Yeah, what of it?” The jiggling of the ice in her coffee is getting too much, and you’re this close to throwing it against her head and walking out of the cafe. At least you’d get a moment of silence while she sits in shock.

“I have some outfits to model. I want a photographer.”

“Me?” You raise an eyebrow, already put out by the idea of having to take photos of her. Not that it’d be hard. She’s gorgeous, from head to toe, quite literally the definition of photogenic. Maybe that’s the problem — it’s too easy, there isn’t a challenge for you.

“Duh. You have like… good skills or whatever, Park.” Her tone turns bored and she lets go of her straw to check on her metallic-chartreuse acrylics. They’re so long those things would fucking suck to type with. Or fuck with. Or do anything but gouge out the eyes of your enemies with.

“You’ve seen my work? I’m surprised, Uchinaga; I thought you’d only ever care about leather straps and sequins.”

“Mmh. Funny… But no, I appreciate a piece of artwork when I see one.” She examines you from your hair to where your torso ends at the height of the table. Then she lifts her coffee an inch, just enough to wrap her tongue around the straw and sip. It makes an annoyingly loud slurping noise, which is a feat considering the cup is 80% full. 

To say it pisses you off is an understatement.

“I only work for a commission. $100 an hour.”

Aeri’s eyes almost bug out, the slurp stutters and you relish in the noise, pleased that you could break her intrusive behaviour. 

“A hundred. An hour? You’re literally a student.”

“I’m literally a photographer.” The itch to grab your phone and pull up your IG account to name and gloat about how much each photo is worth is immensely strong. But you’re better than Uchinaga. That’s something that she’d do.

You can’t let her win…

And you’re better than her.

“Fuck you, I could take the pictures for free.” Her nails dig into the table and you wouldn’t be surprised if there were chips in the paint when she removes them. Fuck, those things are talons. “And that’d be like wearing a Shein shirt on a runway.” You copy her signature smirk. “Get your head out of your ass, Uchinaga. You want professional quality photos; you pay the professional price.”

“$50 an hour.” And she’s fucking turned to haggling. It’s not surprising – she’s wealthy scum. If this were France in the 1800s, you’d be breaking out the guillotine right about now.

“No thanks.” You grab your phone, shoving your laptop into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Eat shit and die, Coco Chanel.”

You make it 20 steps down the street before you can hear her heels clicking on the footpath behind you. You huff, knowing she isn’t going to call out for you. No, that’s too gaudy for her. Instead, she’ll just menacingly click behind you until she inevitably catches up at a stop light – her irritatingly long legs make her stride feel like she’s an olympian and her persistence can be equated to a bloodhound.

You whirl around, knowing that her perpetual smirk will be present, even when she’s about to grovel for you to take her back. Or something. 

“I’ll pay your stupid commission.” Her tone drawls like she’s bored, but the twitch of her brow is a sure sign of her own irritation. “Tuesday, I’ll DM you the address.” 

Then she turns and strides off without a confirmation.

At the last possible moment, she swishes her hair over her shoulder, sending you a smirk so smug that only one thing is clear.

She wins.

The address she messages you ends up being an old warehouse in a former train shed. The rails are still embedded in the concrete; its steel a dirty grey from wear. There’s a lot of light in here despite the tall corrugated iron walls and high ceiling due to the skylights and high windows. Aeri sits at a makeshift desk on one side of the shed, scribbling away in some kind of notebook as she waits for you. She’s clad in a pink robe and heels – add a sleeping mask and she’d be some kind of Blair Waldorf reincarnate. 

“Uchinaga.” You grumble, finding yourself in the position she was in last week, sitting down across from her and interrupting her work. Instead of a tall iced coffee and a smirk, there’s your short coffee cup and an expectant expression. 

She looks up to you, slight bags under her eyes and a bleary redness to them. Most notably, Aeri’s missing her usual arrogant demeanour. 

“Mmhf.” She immediately goes back to her sketch. “What the shit are you here for, Park?”

It takes you everything you have not to stab her in the eye with her pencil.

“Photos. You commissioned me.”

“It’s not Tuesday. Get the fuck out of my face.” She waves a hand fleetingly like you could float away and leave her in peace if she cared more.

“It’s Tuesday.” You even check your phone, sliding it close enough to her on the table so she can see that you’re not an idiot.

15:05.  Tuesday, 25th June.

And she reads it. 

And she stills.

And it’s quiet.

Then she narrows her eyes.

“Get your shit out then, I’m not paying you more than an hour.” She slides from her stool, stalking over to a rack of clothing. Before you can even move, she lets it drop, pooling around her feet while she flicks through the pieces.

Your mouth dries up and you can’t even move, just staring at the soft sway of her hair and ass as she searches through her clothes. Her irritatingly long legs look so much longer when the only thing stopping them are lacy black panties that are most definitely out of your budget.

The only reason you pick up your jaw and start to unpack your ‘shit’ is that Aeri swivels ever so slightly so that you can see the slight turn of her lip. She’s smirking. She’s fucking smirking.

You look around the place, grateful that the natural lighting is dramatic enough in places to get some interesting images. If Aeri wants that, of course… she hasn’t exactly made it clear what she wants. You’re extra grateful that you wouldn’t have to hike back up the street to get your lighting equipment. 

As you continue to unpack, Aeri changes. The first she shimmies into is a wide legged pair of jeans with frayed and ripped holes up the thigh. It doesn’t help. Then a tube top with a baggy tank over the top. It really doesn’t help. Especially when she passes fingers through her hair and pulls it up into a messy half-up half-down style. 

You blink and she’s apparated in front of you with a hand on her hip, her acrylics curling into the denim.

“Hurry up.”

You pop an SD card into the slot then wave her away to where she wants to begin. Aeri struts over to the side of the train shed and leans against the corrugated iron.

And it starts.

Photographing Aeri is effortless. She’s far too practised in her motions and poses. Even when she gets bored and leaves without a word to change her outfit, it’s efficient. Genuinely, you might be able to get this done in under an hour which is both a relief to your sanity and her bulging wallet (even if it wouldn’t miss the $100 note).

However, as easy as this photoshoot is going, the silence is starting to get to you. 

“Too poor to get your own models?” Apparently pissing her off is the appropriate way to fill in the quiet space. Aeri scowls and you make sure to capture a photo of it. 

So? She looks good when she’s mad.

“I prefer to do it myself. I know what angles the clothes look best at.” She points, guiding you into her next pose. “And no one knows my creative vision.”

“Yet, you trust me to photograph your creative vision.” The viewfinder fogs after your last breath. You hadn’t even realised you were using it instead of the screen. It was just a natural feeling, framing her using a more analogue method felt… right. Lowering the camera from your eye to wipe the fog, you take a second to breathe.

“...Your style. It isn’t so bad.” Aeri finally answers. Then she scowls again. “You’re slacking.”

“And you have fifteen minutes left.”

She scoffs and stalks away to swap her attire.

Wiping the viewfinder again, you put it back to your eye, checking for fog. It’s gone, but all that’s left is a half naked Aeri, perfectly framed and positioned. The line of her back draws your eye to her ass which is slightly pushed out as she bends to step into a new dress. Instinctively, you take the shot.

And then another for good measure. 

“You know I can hear the shutter, perv.” Aeri turns in the viewfinder as you snap another picture. She’s in a swampy green to black gradient which compliments her nails. You figure this is what she had them done for.

“So? Maybe you’ll enjoy these more.” She prowls closer and closer until she’s out of focus and pushing your camera down.

“What, after you rub one out to them?” She sneers, her talons piercing into the skin of your hand where it circles the camera lens.

“Like I’d ever jack off to you.”

Aeri twists the camera out of your hand, opening up the previews to look back at your photos. She keys through the half naked ones, expressionless, and starts to look through the others. 

It’s difficult to tell what she’s thinking. Usually, Aeri wears her disgust on her face, never hiding when she thinks something is complete garbage. And everything is garbage to Aeri.

She grimaces once or twice but it’s never the heavy pull of the lip or the slight scrunch of her nose that you’ve learnt to associate with her disgust.

“Even I would get off on these.” She flips the camera back to you, showing off a preview of her, mouth half open, eyes lidded and hair messy from just swapping outfits.

She does, you have to admit, look like sex on a stick. Or whatever that term is.

Aeri turns, still with your camera and clicks over to a set of chic looking beanbags – however chic a beanbag could look. She lounges down, crossing a leg over the other and lazily stares up at you. 

“Hurry up. You’re wasting my time.” She dangles the camera from its strap. You move forward immediately, reaching to snatch up your camera, your precious baby, back into your hands. 

And Aeri, being the person she is, moves it out of your grasp and above her head. Sick amusement dances across her features when she locks eyes with you. 

“I told you to fetch.”

Neither of you are budging and Aeri’s a fucking immature child. A fucking spoilt immature child. You know that by the time you skirt the beanbag’s circumference, she would move the camera back to where it was before. Her limbs are too long for you to compete with, and her smirk, her damn perpetual fucking dumb fucking smirk, is back on her lips.

Both of you know that there’s only one way for you to get your camera back.

With a clenched jaw, you settle a knee on Aeri’s left side, then her right as you hover over her body to rip the camera out of her hand.

Aeri lets go too early. The camera slides through your grasp and as you focus all your attention on grabbing the strap, Aeri flips you over to pin you against the beanbag. It’s this weird twist and grab, but your baby is safe in your hand. 

“What the fuck, Uchinaga?? Do you know how goddamn expensive this camera is? It isn’t something you can just pick up at-“ The complaint is halfway out of your mouth before it’s smothered by her lips, thick and cushioned.

The kiss is unexpected, a slight moan slipping out when she moves to reposition herself. One hand at your hip, the other sliding into your hair. Her thumb brushes against the hem of your top, lifting and taking fabric along with it until there’s a dense heat branding your skin.

It’s almost nice for a moment. You almost lose yourself in the sensation. Almost.

Aeri yanks your hair downwards, taking advantage of your gasp and forcing her tongue inside. The wet muscle glides across your own, taking its time to thoroughly explore. After an extended moment, she extracts with an audible pop!, daring to stare at you like she’s just blown your mind.

“What…” You struggle to breathe as your brows pull into a frown. “The fuck?”

“You didn’t like that?.” Her tone is blasé like she’s studying her cuticles or waiting for her damn iced coffee.

It’s not a matter of whether you enjoyed it. That, you’d never give the answer to. 

“You can’t just kiss someone when they’re saying things you don’t like! How fucking immature can you be?” 

There’s half a beat of silence, then Aeri measuredly leans forward until she’s a centimetre away. It’s with a controlled precision that you hadn’t really expected. Yes, she’s a fashion major or whatever and that causes a level of elegance, but Aeri’s always been raw and nasty in your eyes.

I mean, she just kissed you, for fucks sake!

Aeri doesn’t say anything but her mouth morphs back into that stupid fucking smirk that looks too good on her lips — you understand why she does it so much but fuck is it annoying — and your stomach twists until you find yourself closing that centimetre and rolling around to push her back against the bean bag. 

You can’t think while you’re kissing her. You can’t even ask why you’re doing this because Aeri’s hiking up your shirt and throwing it on the floor somewhere. You shiver slightly at the change in temperature and her acrylics resting on your back.

She giggles at how crazed your kisses are. In the back of your mind there’s a drifting thought about how you’re proving some point of hers right. You just can’t pin it down. It was the one about… about…? Oh, nevermind. It doesn’t matter.

It especially doesn’t matter when she shoves you off her lap. Hard. It sends you tumbling back, your butt hitting the hard concrete. The impact clears your mind immediately and you send Aeri a ‘what-was-that-for?’ glare.

Aeri leans the side of her head against her palm as she lazily smirks at you. She sits like a maniacal god controlling her creation and it pisses you off. Everything she does fucking. Pisses. You. Off.

“And that one was for…?”

“You were slobbering.” Then she waves to her desk in a careless flourish. “Bottom drawer. Hurry up.”

For a second, you debate walking out of the shed. Denying Aeri’s requests would put you down on her level of bratty pettiness; it’s only natural for you to dish it back to her. Not to mention, this is pretty fucked: You hate the woman. You think she’s rich and nasty and spoiled and far too hot to behave like she isn’t one of the nine muses.

God fucking damn it.

After a moment of rubbing your butt, you push to your feet and wander to the desk. Your camera is left on top of the desk while you squat to open the drawer and yank it open.

“…”

“You are not fucking me with a strap.”

When you turn around, you’re surprisingly not facing her smirk. It’s like a lion without a mane. Instead, Aeri is sitting there looking at you like prey.

“Whoever said I was gonna be fucking you?” She curls a finger for you to come back. It’s clear that she means now. Not in a minute, not in a second. Now.

Mindlessly you grab the harness and your camera, already with the silicon attached and you meander back to her. It’s your way of fighting back, making Aeri feel some of the irritation that follows her. When you arrive, you drop the harness in her lap with a sour expression and place the camera safely on the ground next to the beanbag.

There’s a lot you could ask. Why are we about to fuck? Did you organise all this for me to fuck you? Is this weird or kinky? Why do you have a strap in the bottom drawer of your desk? Is it sanitary? 

“Why am I doing this?” You ask instead.

Aeri hangs the harness over a finger and gives you an eye to step into it.

“Because you think I’m hot and this is your chance to get laid.”

Despite the fact that you hate admitting you’ve had a lack of partners to sleep with recently, you still step into the buckles. She sinches it over your clothed thighs, amazingly efficient despite her nails. The straps are tight but you don’t really mind.

“Come on, baby.” She coaxes you back to your position on top of her and the beanbag. When you look at her rather blankly, she rolls her eyes. 

“God, you’re more idiotic than I thought. Fucking a plushie would be better than this.”

The words are a slap to your face. Although you’re still confused as to why you’re sitting on her lap, with a strap, you find yourself getting angry again. She had that strap in her drawer – just waiting. Is this a normal thing she does? That she paid you to come and fuck her?

Aeri looks fucking pretentious like this – hair mussed, stupid smirk, stupid lips – all dolled up in a horribly vapid and careless way. Her stare sends waves of anger down to your core. It roves over your body, no doubt sizing you up, prepared to dig her nails into your arteries at the first sign of weakness. 

Or maybe the first sign of arousal.

Aeri’s right. This is your chance to get laid, and this is your chance to fuck her. In the fuck you sense, not in the… well, okay in the fuck her sense too.

You hike up her dress, struggling not to make it crinkle and crease at her waist with the thought of keeping it integral for the photoshoot, you expose her upper thighs and… and…

“Those photos really made you this wet?”

It’s obscene. Purely obscene how wet her panties are. When you look up to inspect her expression, Aeri has enough shame to have a dusting of red over her cheeks.

“You narcissist.” You sneer, pushing the strap against her clothed pussy and gliding the head over her clit. It smears your arousal on the underside of the cock, creating a sheen of wet. Apparently, it feels nice enough, good enough, that Aeri clutches onto your shoulders, sinking her nails into your skin. It draws a grunt from your chest and only helps to build your irritation.

“Stop being such a whiny bitch and fuck me.” Aeri tugs your shoulders, ensuring that her lips brush the cup of your ear while she whispers. 

Funny, how she could pretend to be in control when she was holding back her moans and twitching whenever your head bumps against the swollen nub of pleasure. For good measure, you smack it against the soaked cloth twice before deciding that you could torture her better without the layer of protection.

Aeri, on the other hand, leans back. There’s a sort of dazed smile on her lips like she’s a child being rewarded for good grades or some other menial shit. Wanting to wipe the smile off her face, you buck the strap in. 

All the way in, her wet cunt filled to the brim.

She shrieks, her nails scratching harshly down your back, almost getting a line of curses from you.

“And I’m the whiny bitch? You’re the one who wanted this.” You drag your hips back, her pussy squeezing so tight that it actually takes effort.

Moans blossom out of Aeri as you start a sturdy pace, her breasts bouncing with every snap of your hips. The squelch is loud in the warehouse, almost echoing off the walls. Deciding that she deserves a treat, you lean down to suckle under the curve of her boob.

“I bet that was all an act when I arrived.” You purr against her skin. It turns pink under your touch, hot with want. “You were in that robe on purpose, just waiting for a chance to take it off.”

Aeri shakes her head, nails biting into your back. It’s hot white pain, you realise. She’s breaking through layers of skin.

Fuck, that’s filthy. Your eyes find her cunt. The ring clenching rhythmically against the strap. It’s so clear that you could almost feel it yourself. Aeri’s cunt on your cock.

“Are you gonna say something?” She’s too quiet. You’d do anything to hear her say some prissy shit into your ear. To be bratty and deny you. “Or has this dick got you acting on your best behaviour?” 

Your hands are a mess, switching between pinching and kneading her breasts, holding yourself up (or holding Aeri down), and keeping her legs spread wide open. 

Still no answer. Maybe you’ve actually won.

A laugh bubbles up and you double your efforts, making Aeri screech and claw further down your back. She’s already started to roll her hips to meet yours. It’s messy, filthy fucking. Your clothes are crumpled, bottoms stained with her juices, making them look like you’ve wet yourself.

“You just wanted me to fuck you. God, what a slut, paying $100 for a quick fix.”

Aeri shakes her head, she’s trying to fight for her composure. “You were taking pictures of me first.”

Her words bring an idea to your mind. “Because you paid, whore. You expect me to believe you didn’t want this when your pussy is this tight around me?”

The camera you had discarded next to the beanbag. You flick it on, and yank the strap out of her cunt. It flutters indiscriminately. Aeri’s hands flash down to the strap, trying to coax it back inside, her hips scooping like if she tried hard enough she could be filled again. Focusing on the wet mess of her crotch, you manage to capture a photo.

Shiny and slick, pink, swollen with want. Her hand in the corner, wrapped around your stick cock. You can’t hold back a groan. The photo is purely pornographic. 

“Look at you.” The camera is flipped, pushed into her face. “Your slutty cunt needs this.”

Aeri’s unfocused eyes take a moment to zero in on the picture. Almost immediately, they blow out along with a filthy fucking moan.

“More.” She yanks on the strap, ungracefully grinding it on her clit. “I’m fucking paying you for photos.”

Her eyes lock onto yours. “Take. More.”

She doesn’t have to ask again.

It’s clumsy from then on out. You only have one hand to keep her legs split, one hand to hold yourself up. The other is for photos.

Anytime her cunt gushes and your head gets dizzy with arousal, you line up a picture. Anytime she sucks in a moan and you smear your thumb against her clit, you line up a picture. 

She’s so pretty and pink. You’re obsessed. Even the prickling pain of her nails sinking into skin and leaving pulsing red lines aren’t enough to make you stop.

You don’t even notice when she starts to squirm, completely and utterly overstimulated.

“Park. Fucking…” A pained moan. “Stop- Hurts.”

You snap a final picture, creamy arousal dripping down onto the beanbag, a wet spot underneath, big enough that she’d have to wash the entire thing to cover it up.

Aeri pushes a foot into your stomach, forcing your centre of gravity off place and pushing you onto your butt. The strap pops out of her hole and she slaps a hand to her mouth, muffling a cry.

Her cunt is swollen, creamy and so so so pinky raw. It’s impossible for you not to scramble back to your knees, one hand already pulling her folds apart to get the best shot.

The shutter clicks and it’s stored away in the memory card forever.

Then there’s a breath of air and you loosen the harness, letting it drop to the floor. 

Hypothetically, not that you had thought about this before, you would have pushed Aeri over and found some part of her body to grind out your own orgasm on. It was only fair — 1-1.

But you don’t feel the need to. It was relieving just to get her to shut up for a moment and let you take all semblance of control. Even if it meant she was 1-0. Plus, you hadn’t even noticed when she had finally cummed on the strap.

Fucked that you were letting Aeri not pay you back. Then again, $100 was payment enough.

Oh.

Your phone is empty of notifications when you pull it from your pocket, but the time blinks back at you. 

16:07.

You can’t help the bark of laughter that falls out. It’s past the hour. Another paycheck for you.

“What are you laughing at?” Aeri’s mumbles are clear enough for you to decipher. She lifts her head just enough to let you glimpse her half-lidded eyes.

Crawling back, you shove the phone in her face.

“Seven past.” You grin. It takes a moment before she groans, sinking her head back into the beanbag.

1-1.

You win.

NOTE: is this finished? mmhhhhhhhh not really (i was gon write them fucking another round but i wasn't horny enough rah rah blah blah) goddamn it

[joelscruff]

truth or dare (joel miller x f!reader) 18+

notification blog | kofi | in honor of my bestie han @swiftispunk who recently celebrated her birthday (and in honor of spooky season starting 🎃) i thought i'd step outside the boundaries of what i usually write and try something new. i'd also like to give a huge shoutout to @toxicanonymity whose entire masterlist greatly influenced my desire to try something like this. please heed the warnings!!! and as i said this is my first time writing anything like this so pls be kind 🫠

summary: a harmless game of truth or dare ends with you tied up in a certain mysterious neighbor's garage. rating: 18+ explicit warnings: dubcon (reader is given a choice to leave, but not immediately), dark!joel, age gap (reader is college age, joel is in his fifties), unprotected p in v sex, use of restraints, ropes, spanking, degradation, sir kink, dirty talk (use of 'little girl' as a pet name), face fucking, rough sex, creampie, brief anal play, humiliation, inappropriate use of a household item (he puts a flashlight up her cooch), marking (with a sharpie), size kink (joel is much bigger than reader and can lift her), pls lemme know if i forgot anything word count: 8.3k

Your palms are sweaty, fingers sticking to your skin as you stand at the edge of the property with goosebumps already blooming along your flesh. The air is chilly, that end of summer evening air flooding your nostrils as a car drives past through streams of leftover rainwater, headlights blurring your vision for a moment. It passes quickly and you're alone again, standing on the street corner with a mixture of anticipation and dread filling your trembling body.

Everything had been fine about twenty minutes ago. A typical party with your hometown friends, one last hurrah before everyone splits off for the third year in a row to go back to their respective colleges, back to long lectures and underwhelming frat boys. It had gone the same way it always does when you get together - shots, secrets, schemes. No end of summer party could ever be complete without a game of truth or dare, not for your crowd anyway.

It had started simple. "Which one of us had the best glow-up this year?" "I dare you to text the last guy you slept with." "What's the kinkiest thing you've done with somebody?" "I dare you to show us the last nude someone sent you." Typical borderline adolescent challenges, things you all still followed through with despite being too old for the game - it's the principle of it, to indulge and pretend, if only for a little while, that life is as simple as it once was.

"Who's the last person you had a sex dream about?"

You'd twisted your hands awkwardly in your lap, felt heat rush to the apples of your cheeks. Usually a question like this wouldn't make you hesitate, but the subject of the answer had been a slightly embarrassing one. As soon as the name Joel Miller had fallen from your lips, you'd been met with screams and squeals and excited chatter from every direction.

"He's so fucking creepy though," one of your friends had said with wide eyes, palm over her mouth, "He gives off serial killer vibes."

"Oh please, he's not that bad," another had chimed in, "He's just a loner, kinda mysterious. I see the vision."

"Are we forgetting the part where he's old as hell? Dude must be in his fifties, at least."

"But that means experience."

"It could also mean limp dick."

"You guys are disgusting," you'd moaned, leaning back on your hands, "It was one dream, let's move on."

And they had. Briefly. Until it was once again your turn and they'd all rounded on you with cheshire cat grins and glinting stares. You should have known what was coming when you chose Dare.

"I dare you to go over to his house."

You'd resisted, of course. The dare itself didn't even make much sense; what were you meant to do? Go over and ding-dong-ditch his front door like a twelve year old boy? But it had only snowballed from there, all five girls tossing in their own thoughts and ideas, talking and giggling over each other. "She should ask him on a date." "She should just flirt a little bit, see how he reacts." "She could see how far she can get with him, maybe?" "Oh shit, that's good."

You could have always said no - there was no way any of them could force you to do it, even if it would have ended the party abruptly with grumbled complaints and a slammed door. But the more they talked the more you found yourself listening, letting the concept sink in, the images of the dream you'd had the other night flooding to the front of your mind. Mysterious and elusive Joel Miller, big hands covered in the motor oil he uses to tinker with his truck, trailing his messy fingers between the swells of your breasts...

They'd managed to convince you just by the reminder alone, though also due to the fact that they'd each tossed in a twenty dollar bill and stated that simply getting a kiss on the cheek would warrant a win. The prospect was intriguing; it would be a testament to your own desirability, your game. How far can you get with your quiet neighbor who probably hasn't touched a woman in years? Who'll probably fold the second he realizes someone as young and beautiful as you is interested in him?

"I'll do it," you'd said with a smirk, rising from the hardwood, "How hard can it be?"

Harder than you thought, apparently. Because now you stand a few feet from Joel Miller's house, loitering soundlessly at the edge of his front lawn, hesitating. The sun has gone down, turning the hedges along the side of his property into frighteningly tall shadows, dark and menacing. A light breeze flows past and you wrap yourself tighter in your well-worn maroon cardigan, shivering, staring at your boots and wondering if you can really bring yourself to do this.

It'll be so humiliating if he rejects your advances. On the other hand, will it somehow be less-so if he returns your flirtatiousness and you then have to reject him once you've gotten what you came for? How will that make you look? You're not even really sure why you care - probably because the man has done nothing to you whatsoever, nothing that would warrant such a foolish prank as this being played on him. It makes you feel bad, in a way. As much as you and your friends make fun of him, he really is just a man who keeps to himself - perhaps this is going too far.

You notice light flickering nearby, a reflection of fluorescents in the puddles of his driveway. You figured he'd be in his garage - it's where he spends most of his time, bent over the exposed hood of the truck he's seemingly been working on ever since he moved in at the beginning of the summer. You've never seen him drive it, never even seen him leave the property, but you've passed by the house on more than one occasion. You've seen the way he rolls up the sleeves of his flannel, forearms splattered black and grey, expression focused on the task at hand while sweat drips from his greying temples.

Having a sex dream about him really shouldn't have been that shocking, now that you think about it. The man is a mystery, sure, but he isn't ugly by any means.

You swallow down your qualms, picturing the faces of your friends more than likely smooshed against the living room window a few houses back, watching. As soon as you turn the corner, you'll disappear from view, obstructed by the hedges and the sudden darkness of night. You take one more deep breath, one last burst of chilly evening air into your lungs, and accept your fate.

--

He doesn't notice you walking up his driveway, taking slow and meager steps as you assess the open garage, the truck with its hood popped as usual, the flickering of the florescent lights hanging from the ceiling. He doesn't notice you, but you notice him. You spot a pair of steel toed boots and long denim clad legs sticking out from underneath the truck, hear the clink and clang of metal against metal while he tinkers with something down there, unseen. As you reach the garage it becomes apparent that you still have one last chance to end this before it begins, turn around and take the loss.

But you don't.

"Excuse me," you offer in a weak voice, teetering nervously at the edge of the garage door, neither inside nor out - neutral ground.

The clinking stops, replaced by the steady pounding of your heart in your chest, the heaviness of your breathing. You try to loosen your hands from their fisted forms and unclench your fingers, focusing on the stretch of flesh and bone while the legs beneath the car slowly begin to inch forward. He's not laying on any type of support, one of those wheeled contraptions you've seen other people use - no, he's simply got his back to the ground, a back and body that's slowly coming into view.

His black and green flannel rides up where he's been laying on it, as well as the grey t-shirt he wears beneath; as he slides out from under the car you spot a bare sliver of skin just above his waistband, a patch of hair that trails down into his jeans. A lump forms in your throat. When he finally peeks his head out, you swallow around it and try to remember to breathe.

Greying hair slicked back behind his ears, cheekbones smeared slightly with something black, scruff lining a strong yet soft jawline, a plump bottom lip, and those eyes... dark brown, almost black. It's the face that's practically been haunting you all summer, whether you want to admit it to yourself or not.

His brow furrows as soon as he sees you, "Can I help you?"

It's not the first time you've heard him talk, but it's certainly the first time he's ever spoken directly to you. His accent is stronger than you remember, words slipping smoothly past his lips like butter as he eyes you from the floor of his garage, knees up, hands still hidden in the darkness. A few seconds pass before you realize he's asked you a question.

"Oh, um-" You haven't thought this through very far, that's for sure. What the fuck do you even say? You take a breath and remind yourself that you're good at this, have seduced your fair share of frat boys in the past two years with minimal effort and have never heard the word no. Sure, Joel Miller isn't a frat boy - far from it - but underneath his cold exterior he's still very much a man, and very much capable of falling under the spell of a beautiful woman. You hope, anyway.

"I was just taking a walk," you lie, "Saw your light on, thought I'd come say hi."

He stares at you blankly, like he's unsure exactly how he's supposed to respond - or perhaps he's already seeing through your façade. You take a step into his garage, poised at the edge as you lean casually against the opening.

"Honestly, um-" you push some hair behind your ear and attempt to look shy, though it's not a huge jump from how you're actually feeling, "I've been meaning to talk to you, before I go back to college."

At your words he raises an eyebrow and slowly brings his hands downwards, palms pressing flat against the dark concrete. You watch as he eases himself up and out from under the truck, and god he's tall - tall and broad and huge compared to you, a fact that sends a little flutter into your belly. He takes a step toward the work bench against the wall, eyes still on you as he reaches down and picks up a rag to wipe his hands, big and wide and streaked with oil. You remember your dream and feel a twinge in your underwear.

"Talk to me about what?" he asks, massaging the rag against his fingers.

You shrug as nonchalantly as you can, taking another step inside his garage, closer to where he stands at the work bench. You cross your legs in an attempt to show them off, stretching your ankle toward a spare tire on the floor and accentuating the sheerness of your black tights, the little run that splits the material at the inside of your knee, the hint of bare skin that peeks out beneath.

"Nothing in particular," you say, keeping your voice soft and steady but doing your best to keep that shy girlishness present, "Just... wanted to." You peer up at him from under your lashes and bite your lip, then reach out your hand for him to take. You say your name.

He assesses your hand but doesn't take it, brow still furrowed. "Joel," he replies, "And I'm a bit preoccupied at the moment. Don't really have time to talk." His voice is cold and gruff, absolutely no sign of interest or attraction - dammit.

"What're you doing?" you ask, tilting your head.

He continues to stare at you blankly, "What does it look like I'm doin'?"

Okaaaay, then.

You shrug again and take another step, turning to look at the wall next to you. Tools line the shelves, wrenches and screwdrivers and the like dangling rather precariously here and there, smeared in motor oil and dust. It's a mess but you'd be willing to bet that it's organized chaos, that he likes it this way.

"What's this?" you ask, pointing to a particularly large object, something that looks like a mixture between a pair of scissors and a wrench.

"Bolt cutters," he supplies you monotonously.

"Ohh," you say with a nod, leaning a bit into the confused pretty girl stereotype and hoping maybe he's a sucker for it, "And what's that?" You point toward a small cylindrical object, black and tactical, only a few inches long.

"You never seen a flashlight before?"

Oh. Right. "Woops," you giggle, "Sorry."

You turn your face to look at him sheepishly and he's still watching you, big arms now crossed against his broad chest - impatient. Well, this is clearly not working either. He's frowning, eyes so focused on your face that you feel almost naked beneath it, like he's staring into your soul. You clear your throat awkwardly and tug your bottom lip between your teeth, breaking your own gaze away from him and trying to find something else to comment on.

"So you've been working on your truck," you state, gesturing toward the vehicle as if only just noticing it was even there, "What's - uh - what's wrong with it?"

He's clearly not buying into whatever the fuck you're even trying to sell. He remains silent, eyes still on you, and suddenly it's like you've never even interacted with a man before - and to be honest, maybe you haven't. Frat boys are certainly not men by any means, and nowhere near in the same league as Joel Miller by a long shot, probably almost triple their age with a dark and mysterious aura that feels almost suffocating. He just stares at you, slightly unnerving, but also seductive in its own way, almost like he's challenging you.

"What do you want?" he asks blankly.

"I-I told you," your voice is already faltering, losing its flirtatious edge the more you realize how dumb of an idea this was, "I just wanted to talk to you."

"Yeah, I got that," he says stiffly, "Why?"

You've already exhausted the avenues you thought might work, which means you've got one last chance before he sends you packing. With bated breath you take the final few steps toward him and - averting your gaze - you reach your hand out to touch his forearm with your fingertips. It's feather light, but you're suddenly very aware of the goosebumps that rise on his freckled flesh, the way the thick hair on his arms seems to stand on end the second your skin touches his. Okay, now we're getting somewhere.

"I think you're handsome," you murmur softly, feeling warmth rush to your cheeks when you realize that it's not a lie. And it really isn't. As your gaze gradually tilts up you catch a glimpse of the hair on his chest, peeking out from under his grey t-shirt. You spot his pecs beneath the fabric of his flannel, see the throbbing veins in his neck, the coarseness of his scruff, the sharp curve of his nose, and those fucking eyes - looking at you with a darkness, a lust, that wasn't there before.

He's not just handsome; he's fucking gorgeous.

"What're you doin'?" he asks you, that gruffness still present but being taken over by something else, something darker.

"Nothing," you breathe, still trailing your fingers along his forearm until they reach its apex and dip into the soft part behind his elbow, damp with sweat. You swallow, throat going dry as you stroke his skin with your thumb.

"Doesn't feel like nothin'," his voice is quieter, matching yours, and he tilts his head slightly as he continues to stare into your eyes, "Why're you really here, sweetheart?"

Sweetheart. The word sends a burst of warmth to your chest, a smile to your lips. You unlock your eyes from his bashfully, watching your own movements as you trail your fingers back down toward his hand and wrap them around one of his fingers, so thick compared to your own. You squeeze gently, biting your lip again as you peer back up at him. Here it is. Moment of truth. You tilt your head up slightly, eyelashes fluttering as you lean forward to connect your lips with his.

Except, they don't connect.

Instead he pulls his hands away from you, brings them upwards and wraps them around your upper arms, squeezing tightly. Your eyes widen, confusion flooding your features.

"Turn around and bend over."

"W-what?" Shock doesn't even begin to describe the ice cold feeling that now makes its way through your body, edged with something else - something you can't explain.

"Turn around," he repeats, his big hands squeezing your arms even tighter - relentless, firm - as he peers down at you with a dark hunger in his eyes, glinting black beneath the fluorescents, "And bend over."

He does not give you another chance to obey - you're too frozen in surprise and confusion to do anything yourself. Instead, he uses the force of his weight on your arms to spin you on the spot, shoving you against the work bench. You feel one of his hands move from your arm to your back, pushing hard until you fold, warm cheek coming to rest against the cold wood.

"Wh-what are you doing?" your voice is meager, weak, and you feel him wrap one of his hands around both your wrists like it's nothing, pinning them against your back like they're simply twigs in his wide palm.

"What you're clearly fuckin' beggin' for," he replies gruffly, and you feel his other hand at your skirt, feel the brush of his fingertips at the hem as he reaches upward to grip the band of your tights. Your eyes widen and instinctively you pull back, pull away - he just pushes you back down.

"I'm not-" you begin, shock quickly being replaced with fear when you realize how easily overpowered you are, how fluidly he's able to tug down your tights and expose your ass to him, clad in only a black thong already lost between your cheeks.

"Oh, you're not, huh?" his voice is cold and stoic, angry, "You think you can play games with me, little girl?" His hand comes to rest against the swell of your behind and you suddenly feel his breath above you, hot in your ear, "Tell me why you're really here."

You try to lift your head up to look at him better but he just shoves you back down again. Panic floods your body, mixed with the unmistakable burn of arousal. You feel yourself twitch in your underwear, feel a sudden gush of warmth spill inside the fabric as he begins to trail his finger up and down the thin line of black cotton.

"I-I'm..." You're at a complete loss for words, unable to articulate anything, unsure of what exactly is happening - or about to happen. Two minutes ago you'd been sure he was about to tell you to leave, practically kick you out of the garage himself, and now you're not sure leaving is even a possibility.

He pulls his hand back and you cry out when it comes down to slap against one of your cheeks, a sharp sting and burn you hadn't been anticipating.

"Tell me why you're here," he repeats - authoritarian, firm.

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out except a frightened squeak, something which clearly eggs him on even more. He spanks you again, harder this time, palm flat and wide against your pebbled flesh. The sound that slips past your lips is somehow akin to a moan of some sort, guttural and deep.

"I'll just make it harder and harder, sweetheart," he says then, and the pet name no longer contains the warmth it did mere moments ago; instead it's cold and detached, mocking. You're still reeling when his hand comes down to slap against you again, even harder this time, and your hands ball into fists behind your back as you let out another low moan. More slick gushes into your panties and it's impossible to deny that somehow, despite the fear twinging in your heart, you're so fucking turned on.

"M-my friends," you gasp out, and you feel him squeeze your abused ass cheek which you're sure is already dark with his handprint, "They- they dared me to see how far I c-could get with you."

He lets your words sink in for a moment, squeezing again - tighter, so tight that it hurts. You whimper against the wooden top of the work bench, legs shaking.

"So you came here to get fucked," he finally states.

"N-no, I swear, I-"

"Wasn't a question," he interrupts, and you feel his other hand tighten around your wrists, "You came here to get fucked so you're gonna get fucked, end of story."

"But I-"

Without any warning he suddenly pushes himself up against you from behind, the rough denim of his jeans pressing deliciously up against your exposed skin. You gasp, eyes going wide when you feel the long, thick shape of his dick between your cheeks, huge and hard. He holds it there, his free hand coming down to lay flat beside your head against the work bench.

"You feel that?" he asks, voice suddenly quieter but still full of that ice cold malice, "You feel that cock?"

Fuck. "Y-yes," you breathe, "I feel it."

"You have five seconds before i close this door and stuff you full, understand?" Suddenly all you can hear is the heavy sound of his breathing, the panting of your own, the thud of your heart where it presses painfully against the wood. He's giving you an out.

"I- I-" you swallow, brows furrowing when you feel his hand slacken around your wrists. You could pull away now, yank yourself out of his grasp and sprint down his driveway, return to your friends. Forget this ever even happened.

It's your last chance.

"Five," he begins, breath warm against your face.

Run. Just run.

"Four."

But why?

"Three."

Why don't you want to run?

"Two."

Why do you want to stay?

"One."

He pulls his hand up from the work bench and hits a button on the wall, eliciting a loud mechanical noise to your left as the garage door starts to close. You watch with wide eyes as your chance to leave slowly vanishes inch by inch until it's gone completely, and yet no part of you itches to run, to escape. There's nothing to escape from, you realize. You want to be here. You want him to fuck you.

As the reality of your situation starts to settle, his grip around your wrists tightens once again. You sense him reaching up somewhere above you, and you suddenly feel the harsh texture of what feels like thickly braided rope wrapping around your wrists. The realization that he's restraining you sends another pool of release into your panties, another faint squeak past your lips.

"You gonna stay still for me?" he asks, voice dark and clearer now in the silence of his garage, no sounds of rain or cars to disrupt you, "Huh? You gonna be a good girl?"

"Yes," you breathe, nodding against the wood.

"Say it."

"I'm gonna stay still," you promise, "I'm gonna be a good girl."

He finishes knotting the rope around your wrists, tight and uncomfortable against your skin. He pushes his groin up against your ass again, brings his now free hands downward to reach through your cardigan and squeeze your breasts. Your nipples are hard beneath the soft cotton of your shirt, no bra between the layer of material and your bare skin; he tweaks them in his fingers and you shudder.

"These are mine," he whispers in your ear, scruff nuzzling against the side of your face, "These tits, this ass," he drops his hands from your breasts to squeeze your cheeks again, "and this pussy." His hand drops to the puffy shape of your lips beneath your thong and you whimper. "Understand?"

"Y-yes."

"Yes, what?"

You're not sure what he's asking for, what he wants you to say. You take a guess. "Yes, sir," you whisper, and you feel him smile against your ear. Bingo.

He doesn't bother to pull your tights down the rest of the way; instead, he rips them, pulling them apart in his big hands and reaching inside to curl his index finger around the thin strip of your thong. He pulls it - hard - and it rips from you with a rough tearing sound and a painful sting, eliciting a loud gasp from you which he rewards with another spank.

You feel his finger slip between your lips for a moment, gathering some of your release before he pulls it away. "Juicy fuckin' pussy," he mutters, and you hear the sound of his zipper coming undone, vulgar in the quiet room. You have no time to ask about protection, no time to even really process how quickly this is already happening, before you feel the warm tip of his cock pushing against your twitching hole. You gasp again, hands furling under the ropes.

"Shh," he quiets you, stilling for a second, "Don't squirm."

"Sorry," you whisper, tears pricking in your eyes, "I'm sorry."

"What're you sorry for?" he murmurs, feeding his cock to you in small increments, reveling in the noises falling past your lips. It's so fucking big, bigger than you'd anticipated - it feels like he's spearing you, splitting you in half, especially without much preparation. It stretches and burns, but the warmth of it, the way it pulses as it invades your body, just makes you gush even more. "Hm?" he continues, "What're you sorry for? You sorry for squirmin' or sorry you pissed me off?"

Your eyes roll back as he bottoms out, his pubic hair pressing coarsely against your pussy lips, heavy balls firm to your ass. You try to speak but it's hard to get the words out when you're so full, the wide tip of him pushing into your cervix.

"You a virgin?" he asks you then, voice changing for a moment, like for the briefest of seconds he's wondering whether he should have gone slower.

You shake your head quickly, "N-no," you manage to gasp out.

"Feel like a fuckin' virgin," he grunts, pulling out and then immediately slamming back inside. Your head bumps against the work bench, a groan falling from your mouth as he makes a home inside you. "Christ," he mutters, "Tight little thing. You feel me in your stomach, baby?"

You're not sure he wants you to answer, but it becomes clear when his hand slaps down on your ass cheek again and you cry out.

"Yes," you moan, then quickly amend, "Yes, sir."

"S'what happens when you come in here, actin' like a little slut," he suddenly reaches for your cardigan and yanks it off - it catches on your restrained hands and he simply rips it and tosses it to the floor, "But then again, you're not actin', are you? Huh? What's a slut like you doin' wearin' all these fuckin' layers?"

"I'm s-sorry," you repeat, already mourning the loss of your favorite sweater, now ripped to shreds at your feet.

"Sorry's not good enough, little girl," he breathes, thrusting into you again so hard that you yelp, cheek still pressed into the splintered wood of the work bench, "That's it, fuckin' take it."

He fucks you without any reservations, any inhibitions. Your legs shake and you can hear the slap of his hairy thighs against yours as he pounds into you relentlessly. You have no choice but to take it, the stretch of his huge cock becoming less painful the more he gives it to you over and over, the room full of the wet squelch of your pussy gripping him. He grabs your hips, fingertips digging into your bare flesh as he takes and takes; you wish you could see his face, wish you could see how he looks when he's fucking you, getting his pleasure. The thought makes you whine, tears streaming down your face as your body moves back and forth against the work bench.

It feels fucking amazing. You've never had a cock as big as his before, never been fucked so deep and so hard, like he doesn't care if he breaks you, makes you cry. He hasn't touched your clit and yet you already feel you could come from just this, just the relentless push and pull of his dick inside you. Unfortunately, just as soon as you feel your orgasm starting to build, he pulls out. Your brow furrows.

"Stand up," he orders, "and turn around."

You obey, relief overtaking you as soon as you're no longer bent at such an awkward angle. The moment you turn to face him you barely get a look at his face before he's reaching down and tearing your shirt in half - easily, like it's nothing. You don't even have time to wonder how the hell you're gonna get home with all your clothes ripped to shreds when his mouth is suddenly wrapped around your left nipple, and you whine at the sensation. You peer down at him, biting your lip and watching his wet lips suckle around the hard bud, beard scratching deliciously against your skin. Your hand aches to cup the back of his head but it's still pinned behind your back, tied tight beneath the rope.

"Fuck," you whimper, and his dark gaze flashes up to meet yours as he sucks, the hint of a smirk on his lips when he pulls away.

"Feels good, does it?" he asks, and seeing the words come out of his mouth is somehow more sinful than when you could only hear them, "You like bein' used?"

You nod almost immediately despite never having experienced anything like this in your life - though admittedly you've undeniably wanted to experience this, ached to have somebody take control, tell you what to do, make you do things. It's like you've somehow known subconsciously all summer that Joel Miller could be that person for you, despite never having said two words to him. It was just a feeling, an instinct, and that dream...

"Yeah?" he continues, and suddenly his hand comes up to cup your pussy, thumb finally pressing against your clit. You cry out, tears still trickling down your cheeks. "Said you were in college, right? You take any college dick up here? Be honest now."

You nod again, "Y-yes."

"How many?"

"I... I don't know," you breathe. It's the truth, and you can tell as soon as the words leave your mouth that it does something to him. He presses his thumb harder against your clit, two fingers slipping up inside of you.

"'Course you don't know," he murmurs, pushing them as deep inside as he can, making you whimper, "You wouldn't know, would you?"

Your thighs tighten together - squeezing his hand - and he just smirks again, curving his fingers and making you moan. Your lower back digs into the work bench as he stands, pushes you up against it and peers down into your eyes again with a hunger that's only getting worse. You assess his expression, the pout of his lips as he fucks you with his fingers, the focused lines creased into his forehead. So fucking handsome.

"You're not a good girl," he breathes, nose brushing yours, "Knew it from the day I saw you. You're just made for takin' cock. Am I right?"

"Yes," you whisper, nodding shakily and bumping your lips up toward his - he pulls away again and you can't help but feel disappointed, aching to feel his lips against yours.

"Tonight you're made to take my cock, that clear?" he continues, and you watch as his other hand travels downward to wrap around it - just out of your periphery. He's too close to you, crowded so much in your space that you know he won't like it if you break eye contact. You can tell by his arm movements that he's pumping himself at the same speed he's fucking you with his fingers, inhaling deeply, "I'm gonna ruin you, sweetheart. Whether you like it or not."

"Y-yes sir," you whisper, voice squeaking when he speeds up his fingers and pumps them in and out with fervor, thumb rubbing furiously against your clit. Yet again he brings you almost to the edge and then removes his hand completely, stepping back with a low chuckle when you whimper pathetically.

Your disappointment only lasts a moment because now you can see him, see the girthy length of him that's already been inside of you hanging out of his zipper, glistening with your slick. He's huge, tip dark and intrusive, beads of his own arousal dripping from the slit; your mouth waters. His eyes cast down to where you're looking and he smiles, dark and mocking.

"Never gonna see another dick like this, darlin'," he breathes, "So you better start showin' your appreciation." His eyes glint. "Kneel."

You're practically already on your way to kneeling before he says it, in awe of the sheer girth and shape of him. The second your bare knees hit the cold floor he's crowding you again, hand coming around to hold the back of your head.

"Open wide, baby," he murmurs.

Your jaw drops and he plunges inside your mouth quickly and seamlessly, making you gasp around his length as your eyes widen. You can't breathe, looking up at him with more tears already fogging your vision as he immediately slips into the depths of your throat with no hesitation. You gag, eyes bulging as you attempt to swallow around the intrusion, find your breath, but it's impossible.

"Yeah," he breathes, both of his hands cradling your face and holding you still as he lets his cock sit unmoving in your throat, "Yeah, that's it. That's what you're made for."

He only holds it there for a few seconds but by the time he pulls it out you're gasping for air, coughing and spluttering as tears stream relentlessly down your cheeks. He keeps cradling your face, tuts to himself as you try to get your breath back. The head of his cock bumps softly against your bottom lip.

"Not off to a great start, are we?" he murmurs, "Let's try again."

He pushes his cock past your lips again and you try your hardest not to gag, a little more prepared this time. The pulsing head of his cock situates itself firmly in your throat, the pubic hair at the base tickling your nose while his balls bounce against your chin. You look up at him with pleading eyes, watch as he stares down at you with nothing but malice in his expression, contempt. You're just a hole to him, nothing more.

He pulls out and lets you gasp another breath before he's shoving himself back in, hands moving back to hold your head firmly as he fucks your face. You don't move - you don't need to; he does all the work as he drags your head back and forth along his cock, hitting the back of your throat over and over again until you're gagging and practically sobbing for air. Your knees ache against the concrete floor and you know you'll have bruises tomorrow, know that you probably won't be able to swallow properly for a few days either. Somehow, you don't really care.

When he's gotten his fill he yanks himself out and allows you to catch your breath for a few seconds, throat constricting around nothing while you choke and gasp.

"Stand up," he orders, and even though you're still gasping for air you manage to bring yourself back up, legs shaking. Saliva drips down your chin, drooling from your mouth in long strands, but with your hands tied you can't make any attempt to clean yourself up - he probably wouldn't want you to anyway.

His wide palms are suddenly on your hips, and he picks you up and places you on top of the work bench with minimal effort, arms bulging. You're completely naked now save for your ripped tights while he's still fully clothed, dripping cock still peeking out past his zipper, covered in your saliva. He steps between your legs and pushes your thighs open, then slips inside of you once again in one short push, making you yelp.

"Oh, please," he grumbles, gripping your hips tightly and pulling your bare body taut against him, head hitting his chest, "We both know you can take it."

It's not like you have any other choice at this point. He fucks you harder than he had before, now that he has easier access, can pull you so firmly against him that his entire length is continuously swallowed up entirely by your dripping pussy. His nails dig into your skin as his cock fucks up against your cervix over and over, so relentless it's almost painful. It's overwhelming how huge he is, not just his cock but his body in general, the way he towers over you and watches your expressions as he takes what's now his.

"Poor little thing," he mumbles, bringing one of his hands up to thumb the tears on your face, "Never been so full, huh? It's okay, shhh," his finger finds your lips and pushes against them almost mockingly, like he's chastising you, "Shhh, this is what you asked for, remember? S'what you wanted." You shake your head but he just nods, "Yeah, it is. You wanted that cock and now you're gettin' it."

Suddenly you're being lifted from the workbench, carried in his embrace with his cock still buried deep inside. You cry out, wrists straining against the ropes, itching to wrap your arms around his neck and hold yourself up with more stability. His arms come up to stretch along the expanse of your back, holding you still and pulling you even closer. As if on instinct your legs bend upwards to wrap around his waist, curling around his lower back while he pistons inside of you without restraint, without mercy.

"Fuck," you almost scream, feeling the rough denim of his jeans scratching against your ass, the heaviness of his balls slapping against you over and over again, "Fuckfuckfuck!"

"Yeah, there she is, there's that little slut," he says, a smile spreading across his face, voice somehow calm despite the fact that he's pounding into you over and over, "Nothin' like gettin' fucked stupid to sort ya out, huh? Needed to be punished, didn't you, sweetheart?"

You don't answer, can't answer, eyes rolling back as he fucks you with abandon. Of course it's not a surprise when he lands a hard spank against your ass, grips your cheek tightly in his palm and growls roughly in your ear, "Answer me, little girl."

"Yes," you force yourself to gasp out, head tilting back, "Yes sir, yes."

"S'right," he mutters, and you suddenly feel the pads of his fingers against your clit, rubbing at an aggressively fast pace that sends depraved noises spitting past your lips, "Come on that cock, tighten up that little pussy even more for me, baby, come on."

It only takes seconds for him to make you come, your eyes rolling back as your body shakes and writhes in his grasp. He doesn't slow his movements, keeps fucking you deep and hard as your legs loosen at his waist and you flop like a ragdoll in his arms.

"Chokin' that dick," he murmurs, "Had so many cocks in this little hole and you're still the tightest thing I've fucked," his brow furrows as he watches your face, watches as your eyes flutter open and your jaw slackens, "And what about your other hole, baby?" You feel one of his fingers prod against your asshole, circle the rim as he continues to bounce you up and down, "Ever had a cock in there?"

You tense up a little in his embrace, eyes widening. At your reaction he slows his movements, still holding you upright and allowing you to just sit on his cock for a moment while he continues to prod your asshole, "I'll take that as a no," he mutters, "Think my cock'll fit up there?"

"It won't," you whisper immediately, shaking your head.

He assesses your expression, eyes trailing up and down your face calculatingly, like he's weighing the pros and cons. Your heart stutters in your chest and you feel that fear from earlier slowly begin to creep back into your psyche, hands shaking under the rope.

"I won't," he states, and relief floods through your body; you relax in his embrace, becoming aware again of his cock still buried deep inside you. He very carefully prods the tip of his index finger inside your asshole and your eyes go wide again, mouth opening in protest. "Yet," he amends, smiling coldly at you, "I won't yet. Not today."

He pulls his finger out and walks with you to the work bench again, places you down gentler than before and peers at you with something in his gaze that you can't place, a curiosity that wasn't there before. It's gone in an instant though, and then he's fucking into you again without warning, gripping tight to your hips and slamming back and forth until you see stars.

"You thought this'd be so funny, didn't you?" he growls, looking at you again with that detached contempt, black eyes locked with yours. He brings his hand down and starts rubbing your clit again, not caring that you only just came a moment ago. "Thought you'd come here, have your fun, and leave again. But it's not so funny anymore, is it? Huh? Is it funny?"

"N-no," you gasp out, overstimulated to the point of even more tears as you squirm and writhe on the work bench, pussy aching from the insistent way he's pounding you and the relentless rubbing of his fingers against your clit.

"S'the last time you show up here tellin' lies," he mutters, "Understand me? Any time you come into my house from now on you're gettin' fucked, got it?"

"Y-yes," you cry, hands futilely attempting to ball into fists behind your back, and he shakes his head.

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, sir!" you scream it, and just as the words pass your lips he stills inside of you, cock twitching as he starts to come. Your eyes go wide, mouth dropping open as his hand sends you into another climax just as he reaches his. Your head falls against his chest and you hear him groan above you, feel the way his cock pulsates and throbs and spits his cum in long and heavy spurts. Your thighs twitch and you feel his hand at your back, pulling you in close as he cups the back of your head.

You stay like that for a moment without speaking, your heavy breaths the only sound in the garage other than the rain now pelting heavily against the door. You swear you can hear his heartbeat.

"Good little girl, warmin' my cock," he murmurs in your ear, and you're still catching your breath, eyes closed, sobs wracking from your throat repeatedly. "Full o'me, huh? You feel all that, baby?"

You can only nod against his chest, wrists still straining against the rope as your toes curl somewhere below you and your body continues to shake. His cum settles warmly deep inside and your eyes roll back a bit when he pushes in further, like he's trying to keep it inside for as long as he can.

"Guess I found a new little cum dumpster, huh?" he whispers, carding his fingers through your hair, "I'll have to say thank you to your friends, or -" he pauses thoughtfully for a moment, "maybe I'll just have to send 'em a little message back with you."

You pull your face back from his chest, peering up at him with tired confusion. He reaches down and pulls out one of the drawers of the work bench, coming back up with a sharpie. You watch with fluttering lashes, unable to stop him - and not really wanting to - as he uncaps the marker and pushes your hair out of the way to write something across your chest, the cold tip making you jolt slightly.

"Shh," he murmurs, "It's okay, I'll untie ya in a sec."

It doesn't take him very long to finish writing whatever it is on your skin, and then he's slowly pulling his cock out of you. You whimper at the loss, thighs twitching as you peer down and watch his softening length slip past your hole, followed by a steady stream of his cum. He quickly reaches up and pushes what he can back inside, thumbing it back in carefully while the reality of what's just happened really begins to settle. You just let a man in his fifties tie you up, use you, come inside you, and write on your chest.

"Can't have all that slippin' out yet," he mutters, "Now, what can we use?" His eyes dart up to the shelves above you and he reaches up to grab something; when his hand comes back down you see the pocket flashlight from earlier, see the slightly flared base and know almost immediately what he's planning on using it for.

For some reason - whatever reason it is that you stayed here after he gave you an out, whatever reason you really came here in the first place - you don't protest.

He brings the flashlight downwards and quickly removes his hand from your pussy to replace it with the wide end, slipping it inside with only minimal resistance. You whimper and he hushes you, brushing his nose against yours as he assesses his handiwork.

"That should do it," he murmurs, then peers back up at you and pushes some stray hair out of your face "You keep that in there 'til you get home, okay?" His eyes have softened a bit, looking more similar to the way they did when you first showed up - is this the real him? You honestly have no idea.

You don't say anything, just nod slowly, feeling the anxiety from earlier begin to sink in yet again. How are you going to get home when you have no clothes? How are you going to explain to your friends what happened? How can you tell them - or show them - what you let him do to you?

These questions are clearly none of his concern. You watch as he backs up and gestures for you to stand with him; you do, with beyond shaky legs and the cold metal of the flashlight between your thighs.

"Turn around," he orders.

You feel him untie the rope from your wrists, essentially ending your time here - whatever it even was. It somehow doesn't feel real. You let them hang limply at your sides, feeling embarrassment flood your cheeks as you turn back around to look at him. He's watching you with a smirk, arms crossed - his dick is back in his jeans. He looks no different than he had when you arrived.

"Now get the fuck out," he says, dark eyes glinting once again under the flickering fluorescents, "before I change my mind."

--

The air is still chilly. The road is still wet. But thankfully, there are no cars.

You don't know how you manage to get home without anyone seeing you - hunched over, naked in the darkness, avoiding the streetlights, trying to ignore the ache between your legs and the icy intrusiveness of the flashlight still lodged inside of you - but you do. Your palms are sweaty again, heart pounding at the thought of your friends coming to greet you at the door, for the shock and confusion and screaming to begin - but that doesn't happen.

The moment you're back in the house you pull a jacket down from the coat rack and cover yourself, tiptoeing past the living room and waiting to be accosted by the friends who put you in this situation to begin with. Instead, they're nowhere to be seen. You hear the faint echo of laughter from the kitchen, hear the sounds of glass clattering and a fridge being shut. It's like they've already forgotten you even left, like the game meant nothing, and they've already found something new to entertain them, something better.

As if your futile attempt at getting a kiss on the cheek from Joel Miller is already something lost in the past.

And, you think, as you shakily climb the stairs and creep into the bathroom, tear the jacket from your shoulders and stare at your bare chest in the bathroom mirror, see the dark permanent lines that read TRUTH OR DARE...

Maybe that's how it should be.

[jhdyuiee]

blossom

wildflower - part 1 .

❁ blossom : a new beginning & growth .

❁ pairing: ex!jaehyun x fem!reader

❁ tags/warnings: angst, fluff, smut!, pregnancy, unprotected sex (flashback scene), multiple positions (doggy&missionary), oral (f), squirting, kissing/making out, nipple/breast play, hair-pulling, spanking, fingering, mentions of masturbation (m), pet-names (baby&darling), down-bad and groveling jaehyun (:0), cursing, mentions of drinking, time-skips, bittersweet ending

❁ w.c: 7.9k

❁ a.n: hi! you ask and i shall deliver, part 2 of wildflower! writing this one was so challenging because i was having major writers block, which ended up delaying it's release, aghh. anyways i tried pulling through, so stick until the bittersweet end <3 ! JOLO OUT IN 2 WEEKS (obsessed with roses, like jaehyun babe who hurt yuh?!) 🥃 . anyways love you all, stay safe & jiji out 🤍

“i'll never forget how stupid in love i felt. i'll always regret how i couldn't ever tell, that you walked a little faster, left me behind.”

“kissed me with somebody else in mind. i loved you so much that i settled for less.“

“oh, you were my everything… i was your second best.”

- laufey | “second best”

jaehyun’s pov.

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” i shouted as the door closed. i contemplated chasing after her, but something told me not to. how could’ve i been so fucking stupid? why did i think she would understand– no, this whole shit was impossible to understand.

i cheated and lied to her. there wasn’t going to be anything i could’ve done now to undo what i did. i did the worst thing a man could’ve done, and broke her, played with her innocent self. i could love for infinitely, but that still wouldn't have been enough to repair the damage. 

i looked down, remembering the gift she gave me right before leaving. this small gift bag held a massive weight. with trembling hands, i started unboxing it and pulled out a small velvet box.

no, this couldn’t be… now hurriedly i opened it. a silver colored ring, in the middle of the box. you fucking bastard, i thought. i really fucked up, really beyond repair.

i took the ring out. i noted the small stones around the band of the ring, my birthstone, amethyst.

my cheeks felt wet, only then did i realize i started crying. now i regret not chasing after her, spending the rest of my day apologizing to her, pleading with her. she took my happiness when she walked out that door, a part of me with her.

and for all i knew matters would only continue to get worse from here on out…

two lines.

there are two fucking lines on the stick…

“i’m pr-pregnant…” i muttered.

this couldn’t be happening, oh how i wished this was a dream— a nightmare i could wake up to right about now. but no, this is fucking reality.

well i guess that would explain why i was late and the nauseating feelings i kept having. however so i still hoped it would come out negative. it wasn’t that i didn’t want this child, it was just about whether or not i’d be up to live as a single mother.

i caressed my stomach, though still unnoticeable, how would this child be able to live? made without mutual love, and there was no denying this was a result of that night. the very same night before disaster struck.

did the birth control not work? i thought. no, impossible it’d always worked, but perhaps luck was truly never in my favor that day. it’d been about or over a month since that day and a lot has happened, my newly discovered pregnancy being one of those things.

as i walk outside my bathroom and into my bedroom, i gently sit on the edge of my bed as flashbacks of the past month flood my mind. first things first, that same week i began moving out with my shared apartment with yuna. we had a pretty heated argument, both sides equally hurt and betrayed. yet one thing i’d say we both saw eye-to-eye was how much of a scum he was. who knew a simple man would cause our friendship to fall apart.

anyhow, with that out the way i started making preparations to move out of not only that apartment but the city. luckily the move went smoothly thanks to a special someone.

mr.jeong.

it happened a day after my talk with yuna when i decided to talk to his father. i felt the need to come clean, confess to everything that went on. to my surprise, mr.jeong hadn’t yet heard of our breakup nor from his son. i expected mr.jeong to feel upset, or at least angry towards me but he didn’t. in fact he cursed at his idiotic son, sympathizing with me. the woman who entered a fake relationship and lied to him, nonetheless there was no denying mr.jeong’s genuine care and love towards me. he treated me as his family, the thought made my heart ache. i mean it was a silly thought as i’d never will become his family.

our talk lasted well around an hour before i decided to depart. i made the decision to tell mr.jeong that i’d be moving, in which he offered two things. one, to never tell that idiotic son of his where i’d gone to in case he asks. two, money.

i refused to take the money, but he insisted i take it since i’d just quit my cafe job. also adding how expensive getting a singular apartment would be for me. after much dispute… i ended up taking the money. he also added there was no need to repay him back, and that if i wanted to look at it as a i’m-sorry-for-my-idiotic-sons-foolishness recompense.

nonetheless i’m eternally grateful to mr.jeong. i mean without his help i probably wouldn't have been able to move into this apartment in a fairly quicker time as if i didn’t have the amount they asked for. once i settled in, i began job hunting.

just the other day i went in for an interview. i still awaited the call from the company, it was a publishing firm.

i plopped down onto my bed, absentmindedly staring at the ceiling. who knew the year would turn out so catastrophic for me. a whirlwind of thoughts flooded my mind which eventually led me to a deep slumber. the pregnancy sure to be the cause of my tiredness.

ring. ring. ring.

my eyes slowly fluttered open, trying to find the noise of the abrupt ringing. my phone's screen lights up, vibrating against the mattress. i reached a hand towards the device, not even bothering to look at who was calling me.

“hello? is this y/n?” a woman’s voice spoke.

slightly unconscious i answer, “y-yes, may i ask who’s this.”

“ah- nice to speak to you y/n, this i’m mrs.kang and i work for the publishing firm you applied for.”

oh, now i was fully awake. “woa- hello! nice to mee-speak to you ms.kang,” i stumbled on my words.

a slight chuckle arose from the other line, “yes, well i just wanted to tell you that… you’re in! congratulations, the company has decided to hire you!”

what! no way… it has to be a dream. i pinch myself, ow. okay not a dream. “wo-wow, thank you so much! w-when can i start!”

“next monday, if that’s alright with you,” she explained. “yes! that’s fine with me,” i almost immediately replied. “that’s great, see you on monday ms.l/n!”

i bid her farewell before hanging up. wow. my life is really seemingly picking up after all the bad luck. oh but now there was the baby to think about, i still haven’t called my clinic. “it’d be best to call them now,” i muttered. and so i did, my appointment was set for thursday.

i reach back for my stomach, a faint smile appeared on my face. “my little light,” i whisper into the empty bedroom.

i was keeping my baby, it didn’t matter whether i would be a good mother or not because this child was a little gift to me sent from the heavens above. my baby, not his. “you may not have a father, but that’s okay, my little light. i’ll make sure to give you both so you’ll never feel lonely. mommy loves you so much already.”

my little light. finding my way out the deepest depths of hell, you became my light who guided me to my new beginning. and for that you’re my little light. my savior.

jaehyun’s pov.

i drove into the driveway of my father’s residence, parking before finding myself knocking at his front door. he’d called me yesterday night, urging me to see him today. i wonder what he could’ve wanted. i wasn’t in the mood to see him today or come to my childhood home where memories of her existed.

it’s been over a month since we broke up and my life has been nothing but a shit show. i stare at my left hand, the sun's light reflecting on the piece of medal around my finger. her final gift, her parting gift; the ring found it’s home on my left ring finger. i’ve never taken it off once since that day that i put it on.

i can’t even count how many nights i spent crying, drinking, and cursing myself. y/n… her name hurt to say, verbally or not. sometimes it felt as though she was still there, waiting for me at my apartment, in my car, everywhere. she haunted me everyday, even when i slept.

she never answered or responded to any of my calls or texts, assuming she blocked my number.

the door swings open, and instead of being met with ms.kim i was met with an angered man, my father. “nice to you see you too,” i said when he didn’t offer to greet me first. strange, i thought. normally he’d be chatty but today he just walked, guiding me to his office. we took a seat across from each other on the leather couches he had in there.

silence filled the office before i decided to speak up. i cleared my throat, “so what’s wrong father.”

he huffed, “you’re no son of mine jaehyun.” i furrowed my brows, no son of mine?

he must’ve noticed my confusion because he then continued. “i know what you did, what you did to her. how could you!” he spoke, his words getting louder the more he continued.

shit.

”you think i wouldn’t find out? the poor girl came to me just the other day, a mess, yet nonetheless confessed to everything that was going on between the two of you,” he continued, my eyes widening more. she came over… she was here…

i clenched my fists. “i-is she alright? did she look okay?” i trashed question after question. my mind only thinking of her. he stayed quiet, not answering any of my questions. a beat or two passed before he continued speaking, “i mean really jaehyun… lying to her just to get back with that other woman?!”

fuck, looks like he knew everything. i sucked a breath in, “i-i didn’t mean to-” he cut me off, “mean to what!?” he shouts. “to fall in love with her. to break her. for any of this to happen,” i answered. my vision was beginning to blur. i faintly hear my father, tsk, before speaking.

“get ready jaehyun.”

i looked into his eyes for the first time since we entered his office. “f-for?” i asked, a gut feeling telling me it wasn’t for anything good. “i’m passing the company to you. i’ve been meaning to for a while now, and after all this mess you got yourself in you don’t exactly deserve it but i’m not getting any younger.”

my mouth fell open, then closed. no way he was asking me to take over the company… i wasn’t in any way, shape, or form prepared. heck i was still a mess from the break up.

“and i don’t care if you’re not prepared, a mess, or whatever excuse you have to offer me, you’re gonna take over and that’s final.”

there was no point arguing, when my father made a decision it was final. “alright,” i said, throwing my head back against the couch.

i hear as he gets up, resting my head back up. he pauses for a moment when he grabs the doorknob, turning to face me.

“and to answer your questions from earlier, she’s gone. y/n left jaehyun, she’s not coming back so you should give up. i mean it’s not like she’s going to take you back after everything you put her through.”

my heart dropped, my eyes blurring again. she-she’s gone? y/n, my y/n? no, no… this wasn’t supposed to happen. and so before i could further inquiry my father any further, he opened the door and walked out.

he left me all alone in his office space, me and my thoughts. my gaze drops down to the ring, where a single tear drop landed.

7 months later.

“ow,” you muttered. you bring a hand to your stomach, feeling the tiny kicks of the little human inside you. “i might as well sign you up for soccer,” i say, feeling another kick that causes me to chuckle. perhaps that was my sign that my little light was up for playing the sport.

for the past 7 months since i found out i was pregnant it’s been… a lot. it was hard being alone, but as time quickly passed i started getting the hang of it. i wished i had someone to go to, but my parents were long gone. i never really had a family to call my own, except now for this little human.

ever since my stomach started showing i’ve been working at home, the company was surprisingly pretty insistent about taking a maternity leave, but i still needed a way to make money. the workload wasn’t a lot, in fact i was only assigned with editing reports. nonetheless the pay was still great.

in fact, next month was going to be my last month working as the date for my birth approached, i needed to take the time off. in the 7 months too, my memory and thoughts of him dissipated. i was doing better, i could feel it. it wasn’t just for me, but for my baby too. i didn’t want my child to be upset with me.

as i got up to go use the restroom i heard the faint ringtone of my phone. i sighed as i looked at the caller id. “and what do i owe you the pleasure of, jungwoo?”

kim jungwoo. my co-worker and newly found best friend. he was the only one by my side and the only one i’ve spoken to about everything that’s happened. shock would be an understatement of his reaction, but nevertheless he still stuck by my side… annoyingly so.

“is that really a way to greet your bestest friend!? i’m very offended y/l/n, after all that trouble of going to get you those midnight cravings,” he says, falsely sobbing into the phone. though he couldn’t see, i rolled my eyes. this guy, i swear.

“oh my, i’m sorry your majesty. please forgive my behavior just now,” i replied. “you are forgiven,” he says back. “but… really jungwoo, why’d you call?”

“nothing much, just… open the door and you’ll find out,” he says. i do as he instructed, slowly walking to my door.

you open it, revealing jungwoo with a carry-out bag in hand. was it unusual to say you developed a keen sense of smell since your pregnancy? well because it smelled like he brought over fried chicken.

“uhm… can you maybe drool later, and let me in now so we could dig in,” he says, standing frozen. i snap out of my hungry state, moving aside to let him in.

we walk to my dining table, sitting across from one another. jungwoo does all the unpacking whilst i watch with prying eyes as he takes the food out and opens it. “dig in,” he announces. i wasted no time, grabbing the chicken and stuffing it into my mouth. i let out a satisfied groan, the chicken tasting so damn good.

you being too engulfed with that damn delicious fried chicken, failed to notice as jungwoo turns on the television. “come back before i finish everything,” you warn him. he lets go of the remote, stopping at some random channel. well the television was the least of your worries right now.

“how’s she doing,” jungwoo speaks up, eyeing my stomach. “i’m thinking of signing her up for soccer when she’s straight out of the womb, little girl can kick,” i replied, earning me a laugh from jungwoo.

a couple months back, my doctor told me the gender of my little light. a girl, my baby girl. i didn’t partially care what the gender was going to be, but nonetheless i was still ecstatic about the revelation. having a baby girl meant i would be able to dress her up, so cute like a little doll.

“jeong jaehyun.”

i whip my head to the television at the mention of that name. my eyes widened, dropping the food from my hand.

“n corps newest ceo is the first to accomplish acquiring various kinds of subsidiaries in such a short amount of time– ranging from luxury brands to flower shops,” the female reporter says as they display a picture of the man.

i squint my eyes, focusing them solely on his left hand. i hoped my eyes weren’t deceiving me because… is that the ring i gave him. no… no, my mind and eyes had to have been playing tricks on me because why on earth would he wear, better yet still have the ring.

“is that him,” jungwoo speaks up, interrupting my thoughts. i turn back around, my mood suddenly plummeting. i don't say anything, just nodding my head to indicate that the man who just appeared was the same man i spoke of.

and so for the rest of dinner we ate in silence, minor talk appearing but jungwoo would always be the one initiating it. i was too lost, going down a rabbit hole about him.

when we finished eating, jungwoo insisted on cleaning up– he even took the garbage with him as he left. i walked him to my door, bidding him goodbye. when he was gone, i headed to the bathroom, a shower was very much needed.

plopping onto my bed, i stare at the ceiling. my thoughts on, jaehyun. a familiar ache appeared in my heart, i thought i was over him but it seems i might be far from it. “i guess mommy isn’t all that strong, huh little one,” i whisper as i reach my hands over my stomach.

you’re not sure what came over you that night, that news report igniting your lost feelings. and so in the midst of your thoughts, you somehow drifted off into a deep slumber.

an interesting one, per say. not only for you but for the other party involved as well…

✧˖°ʚ ❁ ɞ♡

jaehyun crashes his lips to mine, eloping me into a deep and passionate kiss. his tongue slides along my bottom lip, begging for entry in which i grant him.

our tongues fighting one another, and teeth occasionally clashing. my mind began to fog, but i refused to stop. i could feel his love with every kiss.

“strip,” he says in a sultry tone. i felt the air getting hot.

grabbing the hem of my top, i pulled it over my head, and then followed my shorts. i left myself in my lace panties and bra, jaehyun licking his lips in delight.

reaching his hand over, he gropes my tits which earned him a breathy moan of his name.

reaching his hands to the back, he swiftly unhooks my bra, letting it fall beneath me. he groans, admiring the way my tits were on full display. “so fucking beautiful,” he says, taking his mouth over one of my nipples.

he sucks on it, and eventually bites down on the bud. i bite my bottom lip, not wanting to yell out loud.

i look down at him, his eyes staring back at mine as he practically makes out with one of my tits. i could feel one of his hands slides down my back at a slow pace, leaving a burning trail behind.

“you want me to touch you, baby?” he asks as he fondles your ass, sending a small slap across the flesh of skin. “y-yes,” you moan.

“tell me baby, where.” his voice so deep, his head coming up to peck my lips. i nearly melted, “yo-you know.” i take an unoccupied hand of his to my sex, making him palm it. “my pussy needs you,” i whisper as i leaned into his ear.

jaehyun’s lips twitch up, kissing you hard one last time before he begins to go down on his knees. he places his hands to the waistband of your panties, dragging them down your legs. “open up for me,” he says, and i begin opening my legs up. he drags his fingers to collect the slick that began dripping down my thigh.

kiss after kiss, bite after bite along my thighs. reaching a hand to his hair, i grip it. and when he finally reaches my cunt, i become a whimpering mess. his hands gripped my thighs, holding me in place as his tongue darted out.

a slow tantalizing lick, and then another. i jerk my hips forward, wanting more friction. i feel as jaehyun stops his licks. “don’t move, or else i won’t let you cum darling.” his warning was clear, i stayed still.

and so he continues, but instead of licks he sucks on my clit. along with using the tip of his tongue to tease the poor bud, before finishing off with a bite. “j-jaehyun!” i yelled when i felt his teeth on my clit.

letting go with a pop, i watch as he licks his lips before diving back in. his licks faster than when he first started, and before i knew it he brought his fingers into the mix. one of his fingers entering you, then two, both knuckle deep inside you. it wasn’t until after he pecked your clit that he began thrusting them inside you.

in and out, out and in. your gummy walls clenching around his digits as they quickly thrusted into you. you feel the stretch of your walls as he opens them, like scissors. the constant chant of his name was such a melody to his ears, urging him to do more.

you felt yourself getting closer to your release as he continued his ministrations on your pussy. he must’ve felt the way you clenched around his fingers, “close?” he asks. “y-yes, m-my cl-clit!”

jaehyun got the message as he attached his mouth onto your clit. with both his mouth and hands working themselves on you at the same time, it felt like you could cum at any moment. with one suck to your clit and his fingers plummeting in you, you gushed out. a stream of liquid coming out of you, splattering all over his arm. it wasn’t the first time you’ve squirted but nonetheless you still felt shy, hot all over.

jaehyun gets back up, watching you as you watched him lick your essence off his arm and hand. “so delicious, a delicacy that you are baby.”

you could almost cum again from those simple words. as you try regaining your breath jaehyun brings his lips to your ear. “on the bed, all fours,” he whispers. a shiver runs down your spine, his sex-dazed voice was one of your favorite things in the whole world.

without wasting another second you head towards his bedroom, onto his bed with hands and knees on the mattress. your ass up, on full display. slap. you jerk forward from the sudden movement.

and another one on the other cheek. you turn your head around, a naked jaehyun behind you in all his glory. his hard, thick cock reaching his stomach. you could see the glisten of his pre-cum. you feel his hardened member rub against your slit, both your essences blending with one another.

then he places a hand on your hips, while the other holds his cock so he could slide it into your aching hole. his cock slowly stretches you out, walls wrapping snuggly around it. you could hear jaehyun’s groans the deeper he goes in. when he’s all in, he kisses your exposed nape before going absolutely mad.

jaehyun was an absolute madman when it came to having sex. when he was balls deep inside you, he felt like he’d gone into another dimension; another world. you are quite literally the most perfect thing in this world, you were made for him.

your mouth falls into an ‘o’ shape when you feel his tip kissing your womb, tongue hanging out when he grabs some of your hair to pull you against his chest. you didn’t know if it was even possible for his dick to reach you even deeper, but it must’ve because this angle allowed for him to reach places that have never been touched before.

it wasn’t long before you ended up cumming on his cock, jaehyun following suit after a couple more thrusts. feeding your womb his seeds, which eventually dripped out of you as slides his cock out. you slump onto the mattress, too tired, body giving up.

on the other hand, there was something so hot about watching his cum drip out of your pussy. it turned him on, his cock beginning to harden again. his hands reached your body, turning you the other way so your back was against the mattress. you looked so fucked, he loved it.

“ready for round two?” he says, not even waiting for your answer before he intrudes back into your hole. fucking his cum back into your pussy. his hands, finding yours as he interlocks his fingers with yours. your watery eyes, low chants of his name, the clenching of your walls and fingers, the way your mouth falls open, and your tongue lolling out. fuck. it was the perfect sight.

“god, i love you,” jaehyun groans as he thrusted into you.

there was no stopping him now, he was going at an insane pace. the sounds of skin slapping, his balls on your ass, and the squelching sounds of you both echoed in the room.

letting go of one of the interlaced fingers, he brings his hand to your clit. the poor swollen bud victim to his ministrations again. he used his thumb to rub the bundle of nerves, you clench tighter around him. your own orgasm not too far away.

“k-kiss me!” you yelled. jaehyun wasted no time bringing his lips onto yours. it was sloppy but you didn’t care, you loved the way it felt.

you moaned into the kiss, as you finally came for the third time tonight. taking his lips from your mouth, he puts them on an exposed section of your neck, sucking on it as he came.

filling you up for a second time tonight, you felt the warmth inside your womb. you wondered whether you could get pregnant after tonight. having his babies, becoming parents, getting married— a dream.

both of you crash onto his bed, not bothering to clean up for now. both too tied, and unable to get up. he kisses your hair, whispering sweet nothings and lulls you to sleep. you and jaehyun peacefully sleeping in each other’s arms for the night.

jaehyun’s pov.

fuck. what the fuck.

jaehyun jumps up from his bed. too shocked, unable to comprehend what just happened. he doesn’t mutter anything, he just goes into his bathroom and turns on the shower.

stepping into the cold water, he faces the tile walls. his throbbing erection the least of his worries right now.

“wh-why… why did i have a dream about that night, the night before we-we-“ he mutters, the water dripping down his body.

jaehyun didn’t know why he dreamt about you, the steamy night that unfolded a week prior to the break-up.

yeah, he’d get off to past memories of you but never a full on dream. he didn’t know what to do, to think, to say, to anything.

and he couldn’t even being himself to sleep again, so he showered in the cold. it’s been 7 months, the pain still not gone. he misses you tremendously every single day.

he stares at the ring that still stayed on his finger, clenching his hand as he wants to punch the wall in front of him.

“y/n…”

2 months later.

december 14. the day my little star was born.

she was born healthy, no complications. and luckily i was fine as well. it was excruciating pain but knowing she was close to being brought into this world made such pain disappear.

in fact, today we were scheduled to leave and i couldn’t wait to just go home. my home wouldn’t feel so empty anymore, the thought made me smile.

d/n (daughter name) was currently being breastfed, her eyes shut and wrapped like a burrito. she was the most beautiful baby, though she does look quite a lot like her daddy.

i sigh, throwing my head against the pillow. and before i could fully relax after various sleepless nights, there was a knock to my hospital door. the knock causing me to jerk my head towards the door.

“come in,” i said loud enough so the person on the other side could hear, and low enough so it wouldn’t frighten my baby as she was fast asleep.

i thought it was just some nurse coming in to check in before i left but it wasn’t, far from it. my eyes widened. the person also stopping in their trace when they noticed me.

“y/n…” the feminine voice speaks.

my mouth falls open, “m-ms.kim?!”

what was she doing here? why- wait… kim jungwoo, kim… oh my god. the pieces clicked together, she was the person jungwoo promised to call.

just last night jungwoo called me, apologizing over and over again for being unable to take me back home. i do remember him telling me that he’d find someone else, but… who knew it’d be his mother, ms.kim!

we both stayed frozen. neither speaking, you could probably even hear our breaths. however, the cries of a baby erupted into the room. the cries bringing us back to reality.

i look at d/n, swaying her gently in my arms. her wails didn’t stop though. “c-can i?” ms.kim asks. i look up, nodding my head, handing her my daughter. it was almost intriguing how fast d/n calmed down, falling back asleep in ms.kim’s arms. she takes a closer look at the baby in her arms, “she’s adorable, such chubby cheeks.”

i admire the scene in front of me, when was the last time i saw her? i thought. does she still work for them? countless questions wondered in my head until she spoke again. “she looks just like him,” she says softly. i almost froze, eyes widening. i never told her who the father was, but then again my baby does look a lot like her dad. then considering ms.kim had been with the jeong’s since he was born, she must’ve seen how he looked as a baby.

“d-does she,” i say at a loss. she nods, “i’ve been with them since he was still in the womb, and watched him grow, so i can guarantee you they’re daughter and father.” when i didn’t speak she spoke again, “i probably shouldn’t be bringing him up… i- mr.jeong told me. he explained to me what happened when i asked why you weren’t coming over anymore, and well… i’m sorry.”

wait… why- why is she apologizing. i stopped her immediately, “n-no, you-you have nothing to do with what happened, why are you apologizing?!”

“i raised him after,” she answered. i shook my head, “no, please don’t apologize. you and mr.jeong played no part in what unraveled between me and him, nor do or will i blame either of you.”

she faintly smiles, “you’re too kind, y/n. in all honesty, i thought i would never see you again but yet here you are, you even befriended my son.” i giggled a little at the thought of jungwoo, “he sure is something else, but i’ll be eternally grateful to him.”

we continued our conversation for a while longer before a nurse came in to give me the okay to leave today. i did and completed the necessary things so i could go home, ms.kim helped me. and after a couple hours we were finally out of the hospital with d/n in the car seat ms.kim brought along. she said jungwoo got it for me, as a congrats-on-giving-birth gift.

ms.kim drove, while i stayed in the back with d/n, arriving at my home a while later. we spent the rest of the evening there, ms.kim preparing dinner. whilst she was doing that, jungwoo got off work and came over. he was overly excited to see d/n, shunning me and his own mother out.

when the food was ready, i put a sleeping d/n in the crib i placed in the living room. then i headed back to the dining table, sitting down and for the first time enjoying a homely meal. it was so good, i started crying. when was the last time i felt at peace? when i felt complete? jungwoo nor ms.kim said anything, letting me have a moment.

my home was finally warm and cozy, my new life begun today. my little light radiating throughout my- our home.

4 months later.

i sighed, pushing the stroller of my 4 month-old child along the park. the cold winter weather was gone, and the flowers were in full bloom again. we came for a stroll at our local park, i was in need of a refresher.

it’s been a month since i began working again, and things were going great until a couple days ago when i was informed of a new task. the ol’ mighty task being… interviewing… jeong jaehyun. with the rise of n corps, my company was in desperation to get an interview with him. and if matters couldn’t get any worse, our main interviewer broke their leg a couple days ago, so they decided to assign me with the job. well, they gave me until the end of the week to decide whether i was up for it but… come on, me?!

no way, there was no way i was going to-

“y/n?” a voice shouts. the voice sounding familiar, i turn around without any second thoughts. though now i wished i hadn’t turned around at all, that i had simply ignored the call of my name.

i froze. “j-jaehyun,” i said in a voice that was only loud enough for him to hear. what was he doing here… he shouldn’t be here… no… no wh- “it really is you…” he says, interrupting my thoughts. he walks closer, my eyes beginning to blur. “baby,” he says gently. my stomach churns, in a bad way at the use of the word.

“d-don’t ca-call me t-that!” i say, my voice distorted. i was probably trembling as he walked closer. he stopped in his tracks when the cries of a baby erupted.

shit.

he stops, his eyes focusing from me to the strolling behind me. i instinctively blocked her, hiding her from his view even though it was too late now.

it seems it didn't take long for jaehyun to connect two-and-two together. “i-is that my- our child,” he says in an astonished tone. at least he wasn’t such an idiot, i’ll give him that.

i shook my head, “no, you’re wrong. she’s mine, she doesn’t need you.” i wasn’t going to deny that he was the dad but that didn’t mean i’d consider him as her father.

jaehyun drops to his knees in front of me. his sobs getting louder as he cried. my heart ached at the sight, but then remembered why we were even here in the first place. i turn back, my grip tightening around the stroller’s handles.

i begin walking away, stopping briefly. “you should’ve moved on the day i left the hotel. we are strangers jaehyun, remember that.” he looks up, tears staining his face. i noticed a shine from his finger, it came from the ring around his left hand. i immediately identified it as the ring i had gotten him for his birthday. 

“w-will i truly never see you again, see her again,” he says, trying to regain his composure. i don’t reply back, leaving him in that park.

on the walk home i made up my mind… i was going through with the interview.

✧˖°ʚ ❁ ɞ♡

i was sat, waiting for jaehyun to arrive. our meeting location was chosen to be at a restaurant, where we were designated with our own room for privacy reasons. honestly, i could care less about the interview. 3 days had passed since our reunion, and i felt that there was still much left to be discussed, so what better way than to talk about it here.

the door slid open, jaehyun stiffened. his mouth falling open, “w-what-” i interrupted him before he could continue. “surprise,” i sarcastically said. he looked out to check if he was in the right room, only to be reassured he was. jaehyun sits down, his head down, not daring to look up. i could tell he was keeping his guard up around me.

i softly sighed, “the person who was set to interview you, broke their leg so they put me as their replacement.” i felt it was only right to explain the situation since i’m sure he was wondering what i was doing here.

when he stayed quiet i continued, “and for the record i accepted it only because i felt that we needed to have a deep talk about everything. let’s put aside the interview for now jaehyun.”

he finally looked up, his eyes meeting mine. “w-where is she?” he asks, stumbling on his words. “she? oh! d/n is with ms.kim. you probably don’t know but ms.kim offered to look after her while i worked,” i explained. it was the truth, ms.kim, since the time i began working again took care of d/n. she argued she’d find a way around working with mr.jeong and babysitting.

however it seems jaehyun was oblivious to this. “m-ms.kim,” he whispers, in which i respond with a nod. “that’s where she’d gone,” he continued. “what do you mean?” i asked.

“well, my father briefly explained that she’d gotten a job somewhere else so she wouldn’t be able to work from certain hours,” he answered. so that’s what she told them, i thought. “mmm, speaking of your father… how is he?”

“i guess he’s alright. the old man and me aren’t doing so well, so it’s hard to say…” he says, stopping briefly to take a sip of his water that was placed there by the waiter before he even arrived. “ever since you left, he got pretty upset with me. he forced me into the family company, didn’t even wanna consider me his son. i mean it didn’t matter to me, i deserved it after all.”

i stayed quiet, not knowing what to say at his revelation. “s-so, tell me about her. please, y/n,” jaehyun pleads. i give it some thought before sighing.

“her name is d/l/n. she was born on december 14th. i found out i was pregnant around a month after that day. she was all i had left so i decided to keep her. and god was that the best decision i’ve ever made. yeah, those 9 months were sometimes hell, but i managed. i was scared of being a single mother, but hey look at where i am today,” i explained. his features softened as i continued explaining my past year.

and when i finished he asked, “won’t you let me see her?” i ponder, “i wish, i want to… but, i-i’m not sure if i can trust you yet jaehyun.” “and why is that?” he asks. “b-because of what you did. you broke me completely, crushed up all faith and trust i had for you.”

“t-then give me a second chance,” jaehyun declares. you look at him astonished at his declaration. “w-what do you mean?”

“give me a second chance to prove to you and d/n i can be trusted. i’ll make up for lost time, i’ll love her triple, no infinitely more. please, just please… we don’t even have to go into it thinking we might get together, i-i just want to see my baby girl.”

his voice was getting weaker, practically pleading with me. a second chance, huh. i took my time to think about it, would letting him into out lives be the right choice? i was gambling here, but nonetheless i made my decision.

“f-fine. you better prove yourself worth forgiving, jeong jaehyun.” his face almost lit up, “th-thank you! i most definitely will, i’ll prove to you both. i won’t make the same foolish mistakes. i’ll love d/n, i’ll love you,” he says. i’ll love you. the phrase brought something out of me, touched my heart per say. 

and so after an overdue talk, we cleared up our misunderstandings. we agreed on co-parenting, among other things. the interview then proceeded as planned, and once that was out the way he drove me home. i offered to invite him in, in which he gladly accepted.

ms.kim was shocked to see him show up, confused even but i briefly told her i’d explain it later. d/n was awake, and when i introduced her to jaehyun it was like the most sentimental scene. he cried, heck i probably did too. even more shockingly, d/n warmed up to jaehyun faster than i expected.

it felt like we’d finally become a family, like we could finally live happily ever after. and although i knew the journey was far from being over, i was willing to test the waters. if in the near future jaehyun and i ever get together then we get together, and if we don’t then we don’t.

whatever the future had in store for us, we’d face it once it came. but until then this new life that has bloomed for us like the flowers, will be lived with one another by each other's side.

“you’re my dandelion.”

© jhdyuiee

2024. 08. 18

final a.n: woohoo, we're at the end! writing part 2 like i mentioned was a hassle since i was having writers block, worst feeling ever! on top of that i started school again :(( . not the best couple of weeks but i managed to get this done in a week, nevertheless i really hope you all can enjoy it. thank you for your continued love and support, i truly cannot thank you enough for everything! that being said, i will be taking this upcoming week off, and will hopefully be back to uploading for the last week of august. i love you all berry much! please look forward to jaehyun's solo, JOLO, on august 26! thank you&i love you, jiji signing off 🤍

[judasofsuburbia]

something something middle school steve trying to form a crush on somebody because it seems like everybody has crushes. he tries some girls in his grade but loses interest quickly for silly reasons.

then, at lunch, he sees a girl with long brown curly hair and forehead bangs in a leather jacket, head ducked and legs pulled up to her chest. she must be an eighth grader because steve’s never seen her before. she’s headbanging to the music coming out of her headphones and is sitting all by herself. she doesn’t dress like girls in his grade. she’s rougher, edgier. steve likes this. it makes his stomach swoop.

she’s way across the cafeteria so he can’t make out a lot of her features but he decides leather girl is his new crush.

he never points her out to his friends. he wants to keep her to himself. doesn’t want tommy or anybody else sweeping her up.

not that he actually makes any moves to talk to her. no, instead, he stares from across the cafeteria every day and tries to figure out something new about her.

steve thinks it’s funny the way she picks the skin off her apple slices, eats the skin, and then eats the slice.

she usually gets two milks bc she pockets one of them. a bad girl, steve thinks giddily. she always waits until the bell rings to chug both of them which is odd but entertaining.

she has pins on her jacket that steve assumes are bands. no other girls really talk about bands outside of the beatles. leather girl doesn’t scream beatles fan to steve. he wonders if they like any of the same bands.

he makes up little scenarios in his head of walking up there and handing her a mixtape and the two of them sitting very close so they can both listen out of her headphones.

he throws away notes he writes her because they all sound lame. he also doesn’t know where her locker is. or what her homeroom is to send her candy grams on holidays. or even her name.

this all proves to be a challenge. so he gets comfortable with just admiring her from afar.

one day, he’s seating himself at the table with tommy and them when he hears boys from the football team shouting things like “finally, the freak got rid of the stupid hair!” and “how’s that breeze feel, munson? finally feel like a man?”

steve whips his head around to see the boys towering over leather girl’s table. only…it’s not leather girl. or, it is but all of her hair is gone. buzzed to her scalp. there are tears running down her face and steve realizes his mistake.

he wasn’t crushing on a mysterious eighth grade girl. no, he was crushing on eddie munson.

whom he’d never actually seen but heard a lot of nasty things about.

his stomach feels like it drops to the floor. he can no longer hear the ridicule or general noise of the cafeteria because his ears are ringing. he finally had a crush and he still messed it up. steve felt shame riddle through his body so he abruptly got up and went to the boy’s bathroom for the rest of lunch.

as the bell rang, steve couldn’t get himself to move from the stall he was hiding in. he knows he would get in trouble if one of the hall monitors found him but his body remains frozen. the door opens and steve holds his breath. steve sees white sneakers underneath the door and immediately, he knows it’s leather girl…no, fuck. it’s eddie.

eddie is stomping around, grumbling about his stupid dad and how he looks ugly now, obviously not realizing there is another person in the bathroom. steve hears sniffles and his heart breaks. tentatively, steve gets up and opens the stall door. eddie jumps and clutches the sink behind him.

his eyes are brown, steve thinks. and really pretty.

“jesus, kid, shouldn’t you be in class?” eddie rasps.

“shouldn’t you?” steve retorts, defensively.

“touche,” eddie deadpans. he wipes his tears furiously and sticks his head into the sink to splash water onto his face. steve observes quietly, finally seeing all the features he’s been staring at for months in full detail.

eddie pats his face down with a paper towel and notices steve is still there.

“do you want something?” eddie seethes.

steve chews on the inside of his cheek. he knows he can’t be crushing on a boy. still, even without the beautiful curls, eddie makes his heartbeat faster. he’s still so beautiful. he doesn’t want to go to class anymore.

“have you ever been to the football bleachers?” steve asks.

eddie narrows his eyes. “uh yeah, who hasn’t?”

steve stands up a little taller and tries again. “no, like, the concession stand. when there’s not a game going on.”

“no…” eddie gestures for steve to get to his point.

“i know how to get inside. there are snacks and sodas in there. they never notice a couple missing,” steve smiles as he feels more rebellious sharing this information. “i don’t know if you wanna…”

eddie raises an amused eyebrow. “play hookey?”

steve nods excitedly. he loves the way eddie grins in response.

“lead the way, kid.”

and if steve’s first kiss is a few weeks later by a pair of clumsy, sour candy tasting lips, he’ll never tell.

and if steve gets caught that day and gets detention through the end of the school year, it’s totally worth it.

because eddie is right there with him. crushing on him too.

[mionemymind]

The Actress & The Geek

Summary: A late night practice causes Y/n and Wanda to confess their feelings.

Warnings: Fluff, Kissing, Slight Angst

A/n: I might post another one shot like this with a similar layout but different setting, like what if they needed an understudy? Would y’all want that?

Word Count: 1.5k

Masterlist

“Wandaaaa, where are you taking me?” Y/n annoyingly asked. Her newfound friend, Wanda Maximoff, dragged her to the College’s stage room. “I need help practicing my lines and you’re the only person I know who would be up at this time.”

Y/n glanced at the hallway clock, it was close to midnight and by now, Wanda’s friends were either partying or asleep. “I don’t know why you’re panicking so much. Everyone knows you’re going to get the part.”

Wanda pushed through the doors and excitedly ran up the stage, leaving Y/n by the bottom of the steps. “You don’t know that. I heard rumors that Violet might get it over me.” Y/n sighed at Wanda’s poor excuse of a lie. “Now stop being a baby and come over here.”

Y/n rolled her eyes and slowly walked up the steps and in front of Wanda. “Turn to page 214. I’ll start us off, okay?” Y/n reluctantly opened the script and turned to the page. Once Wanda saw that Y/n was ready, she started.

“Did I do something?” Wanda asked nervously, a hint of hurt in her tone. Y/n was stunned for a moment at how quickly Wanda got into character. Not wanting to disappoint her friend, Y/n tried her best to act in the scene.

“What makes you ask that?” Wanda walked away with a sigh as she combed her hand through her hair. “Are you seriously acting clueless right now?” Wanda gave Y/n a ridiculous look.

“Answering with a question doesn’t quite help-”

“You’re avoiding me.” A small pause happened in the script as Y/n and Wanda stared at each other. Y/n turned away, “I honestly don’t know what you mean.”

Wanda groaned and stomped back to Y/n. She spun her around and grabbed her hand. “Quit acting like a child and talk to me.” Wanda’s character was desperate to hear anything from Y/n, her eyes pleaded for some truth.

“I don’t know if I can tell you.” Wanda’s mouth twitched into a frown. She dropped Y/n’s hand and took a step back. Looking at the ground, Wanda played with her hands, unable to look at Y/n. “You used to tell me everything…but now you barely hang out with me anymore.”

Wanda’s eyes started to water, she started to walk away until Y/n’s character held her hand. “If I tell you-,” Y/n groaned as her character didn’t know what the best choice of words was going to be. In a softer tone, she says, “If I tell you…we can’t go back to the way things were.”

Wanda appeared scared of the truth but things had already changed ever since Y/n became distant. So who cares if the truth changes everything? Maybe now it will help this obstacle between them.

“I-,” Y/n’s eyes looked over Wanda’s shoulder, acting as if there was a character back there. “Tell me you’re not in love with him,” Y/n desperately begged. Wanda looked back, her hand still in Y/n’s, and pretended to see somebody.

She faced Y/n again, searching Y/n’s eyes for the meaning behind this. “What?” Y/n pulled Wanda closer, their faces inches apart. “Tell me you’re not in love with him.”

“Why does that matter?” Wanda challenged. Y/n gulped at how little space was between them but still pushed through with the character. “Because if you’re in love with him - I cannot be with you.”

Wanda acted as if someone called her name, but on cue, Y/n cupped Wanda’s cheek and kissed her briefly. “Find me - when you do, tell me you feel the same.” Y/n let go of Wanda’s hand and backed away to the other side of the stage, leaving Wanda at the center.

With wide eyes, Wanda touched her lips, the feeling of Y/n’s lips lingered. Her brain rumbled for the next line, but all she could focus on was Y/n. “Uh Wanda, did you want to finish the scene or?”

“You kissed me,” Wanda whispered to herself, surprised that it happened. “Did you want to kiss me?” Wanda only dreamed of a moment like this ever since she met Y/n back in the fall semester. She remembered bumping into Y/n on day one of rehearsal. Ever since then, they’ve always remained friends, until the day Wanda wanted something more.

In the basement of the party, Wanda sat with a group of her friends that go way back to high school and her castmates from the play. Y/n sat beside her already five shots deep into the night. Everyone was socializing and having a great time as the play had phenomenally gone well.

“We should play spin the bottle,” one of the crew techs said. Everyone was in some agreement wanting to spice the night up. “Okay, I’ll go first,” Steve said. The semester was close to an end and all Steve wanted to do was loosen up. He spent the majority of the semester worrying about his grades, his scholarship, and his football career.

The bottle spun and low and behold, it landed on the very person he wanted to kiss. “You down Bucky?” The liquor in Steve gave him the confidence he needed, otherwise he would have hidden. “You don’t even have to ask.” The two met in the middle for a slow but passionate kiss.

The group screamed with delight as Bucky deepened the kiss, almost going in with his tongue. “Okay you two, break it up!” Bucky pulled away with a charming grin on his face as Steve sat back looking love-struck. “Up next!”

Carol was next to spin, “God, I hope I get a good kisser,” Y/n whispered yelling into Wanda’s ear. The brunette forced a grin as she suddenly felt ill at the thought of someone else kissing you. She tried to think of something clever to say but nothing came out.

Focusing back on the group, Carol had just gotten done kissing Maria, another duo in Wanda’s group that had crushes on each other. It was now Y/n’s turn. She spun the bottle with great anticipation of who she was going to kiss tonight.

Slowly but surely, the bottle was making its last spins until it passed Wanda and stopped to the girl beside her, Natasha. Wanda could feel her heart drop as the two girls looked at each other with mischievous smiles. “Looks like you have to kiss me Y/n - don’t worry, I don’t bite.”

Wanda closed her eyes as she saw the pair leaning in, praying it would be over quickly. And when she opened them back up, she couldn’t help but wish that the bottle landed on her.

“Yeah - I mean it was in the script. I didn’t - I thought you wanted me to commit to it.” Y/n walked back to Wanda scared that she accidentally hurt her friend. “Was it fake for you?” Y/n stood still for a moment, afraid to answer. Wanda walked forward, closing the distance between them. “Tell me - did that kiss mean anything to you.”

“Wanda - I - I’m sorry. I really thought you wanted me to-”

“-What I want is to know if you like me or not. So tell me,” Wanda declared. The beating in her heart could not stop as she waited for Y/n’s answer. “I thought you would do just a kiss on my cheek or would have said that you kissed me out loud. But you kissed me and I can’t go back now.”

Tears formed in Wanda’s eyes as Y/n wracked in her brain for words to say. “I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long now - so please tell me that was real.” The tears fell to her cheeks as her heart beat in anticipation.

“Please say something,” Wanda begged.

“Please don’t cry,” Y/n whispered, her heart breaking at the sight of Wanda crying in front of her. “Why shouldn’t I?” Wanda wiped some tears with the back of her hand, feeling stupid for even confessing.

“‘Cause I never knew you felt the same.” Y/n pulled Wanda close and kissed her deeply, wishing to show that this was the kiss that Wanda deserved, not from some stupid play, but from the fact that Y/n truly loved Wanda.

Wanda steadied herself, placing her hands against Y/n’s chest as she fiercely kissed back. The more Wanda pushed to steady herself, the more Y/n leaned in, begging for more. Their gasps and labored breaths were in sync as the kiss went from passionate to needy.

With each kiss, Y/n poured her heart, wishing that she could stop tasting her tears. Pulling back slightly, Y/n heaved out, “Please stop crying.” Y/n used one hand to wipe away the tears. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

Wanda chuckled as she looked at Y/n with such adoration. “I think you owe it to me to redo the scene.”

“Want me to kiss you better?” Wanda pondered for a second, “Something like that plus you’re acting skills could use some practice.”

Y/n gasped, a feigned hurt expression on her face. “I think I was amazing. Might have to audition for lead love interest.”

“Guess we gotta practice our kiss scenes.”

“Way ahead of you Maixmoff.”

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[creative-caramel-coffee]

The Spiders Sister - Chapter 2

Summary: Reader is still a little sick and staying hidden while Wanda and Natasha look after her.

TW: Sickness, asthma

Words: 2.8K

A/n: Part two!!!

It must have been a couple of hours sleep before you woke up again. Somebody was knocking on the door and for a second you panicked, still feeling awful and sleepy your mind was working though a dense fog to catch up.

When you finally managed to recall the events of earlier that morning, you felt a slight bit of relief.

“Come in.” You called, your throat scratchy and sounding like sandpaper on glass.

The door handle turned, and you prayed the girls had kept their promise to not tell the others yet.

Wanda’s face peered into the room, and she glanced around until her eyes fell on you, still holed up in bed under the sheets.

“How are you feeling?” Wanda asked as she came inside, holding a tray. She gently closed the door after her and came to sit on the bed beside you.

“A bit better than I was. But not great.” You mumbled.

“Well, if you don’t mind, Nat and I are happy to look after you until you get better. Peter’s been telling us stories about you, now he can.” She begun and you groaned. Drawing a smile from her. “All good don’t worry. He’s a good kid and it sounds like you’re a good sister. And spider-man at that.” She said with a wink, and you buried your flaming face in your hands.

Wanda carefully pried your fingers away from your blazing cheeks and smiled softly at you.

“Now, I made you some soup and Nat’s gone to steal some of Peter’s enhanced-super cold and flu medicine out of Bruce’s lab for you.” Wanda said as she set the tray down on your bedside table. “Put this under your tongue.” She said handing you a thermometer.

“I’m fine.” You said not taking from her. She raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Really. Im all good now.” You argued and she still wasn’t having it.

Using her magic wanda floated the thermometer up to hover in front of your lips. You gave her a look and opened your mouth.

She beamed at you and the thermometer positioned itself under your tongue.

“Now what?” You mumbled from behind the stick.

“Now we wait for that to beep and go from there.” Wanda said catching the drooping thermometer with her finger before it could fall from your mouth while you spoke.

After a few more seconds of Wanda fussing with the things on the tray and messaging who you assumed must be Nat on her phone, the stick beeped.

Before you had a chance to remove it yourself wanda had stolen from your lips and was closely observing the numbers on the small screen.

She hummed a low note and sent another text to Nat before placing it down on the bedside table.

“Well?” You asked trying not to pout about feeling left out.

“102.3 still a fever.” Wanda said before standing and heading to the door to open it.

Natasha stepped into the room with three bottles of medicine in her arms.

She came over and took a seat next to wanda who had sat back on the bed like before.

She handed the bottles to wanda who looked at the labels and began taking out pills from two of the bottles and measuring out a red liquid from the other.

“Oh, hell nah.” You said. “I am not drinking that.”

Nat raised an eyebrow. “You will be.” She said and you frowned, slouching down and glaring at her which only seemed to make her smirk grow larger.

Wanda finished measuring it all out and handed you the two pills and a glass of water.

“What is this?” You asked.

“Fever reducers and cold and flu meds that were made for peter.” Wanda said and you nodded and took them.

Then wanda held out the small medicine cup of red liquid.

“Nope.” You said pursing your lips. “Not happening.”

“If you don’t take this, I’ll force feed you it myself.” Wanda said and you glared at each other for a second before swiping it out of her hands.

“Fine.” You grumbled and wanda beamed at you.

“Good girl.” She said and you defiantly did not feel your stomach flip at those two words.

However, Natasha seemed to smirk to herself about something while wanda busied herself with the soup.

You took the medicine like a shot and scrunched up your nose after.

“Why is it sweet?” You asked smacking your lips together.

“Peter’s a baby when it comes to gross cough syrup, so he requested it taste like cotton candy.” Nat said and you rolled your eyes.

“Of course he did.” You mumbled.

Before you could find further reason to complain Nat plucked the cup from your hands and wanda set the tray on your lap, fussing over the pillows behind you that were keeping you propped up against the bedhead.

You eyed the tray closely. There was a bowl of thick orange soup with a blob of white sprinkle with small green herbs. Along with a soup spoon and napkin.

“Um? What kind of soup is it?” You asked.

“Pumpkin soup with sour cream and chives.” Wanda said. “It’s an old family recipe from my childhood.” She said seeming to lose her smile for a fraction of a second before it came back.

You nodded. “Thank you. You really didn’t have to go to all the effort wanda.”

She just shrugged. “Its kind of what we do around here.”

“Look after each other, she means.” Nat clarified and you nodded and brought a spoonful of soup to your lips.

It was warm and tasted amazing. You hummed in delight at the taste and Wanda beamed.

“This is really good.” You said taking another spoonful of it.

“I’m glad you like it.” Wanda said.

“So, where’s peter?” You asked, striking up conversation.

“May took him home. Nat managed to convince her that you were fine staying here with us. We are happy to have you and if you like that could be a more permanent offer depending on what the team has to say.” Wanda said and you choked on your soup.

Coughing, you felt Natasha’s strong hands pound your back to help you breathe.

Once the fit had subsided you blinked at wanda who was looking at you with concern in her eyes. You waved her off.

“I’m all good.” You begun but she handed you the glass of water anyways.

“Small sips.” She instructed and you nodded and drank some of it slowly.

“Sorry.” You apologised. “I just wasn’t expecting that.” You mumbled, cheeks warm.

“No need to apologise I probably should have waited until you weren’t eating.” Wanda said and you laughed.

“But in all seriousness… you guys want me here? Like … on the team?” You asked and Nat looked at Wanda before nodding.

“We would need to have Fury sign off. Steve and Tony will have to agree as well, but theres not denying you would be a valuable asset to the team.” Nat begun. “I’m planning on holding a meeting with the team when your up to it. But until then I want you to rest and get better. It’s important you put your best foot forward when starting off with the team.” Nat said and Wanda nodded.

“You’ll do great. The team will love you.” Wanda agreed, throwing in her own two cents to Nat’s speech.

“So, Nat how did you manage to sneak in and out of Bruce’s lab and find peters meds?” Wanda asked with the grin that Natasha returned.

As Nat launched into her story, which included a cabinet of medicine labelled spider-baby, a banner-stark debate over what atom is the best and lastly her spy skills.

By now everyone had gotten themselves comfortable on the bed. You were sat against the headboard with wanda on your left and Natasha on your right.

The king bed managed to squeeze all of you in and left ample room for more space.

As Nat continued her story you found yourself listing to one side. Your eyes drifting half shut as the exhaustion rolled over you.

Blinking harshly, you tried to stay awake until a soft hand guided your head to something soft that smelt like strawberries and vanilla.

You decided to forgo fighting sleep for any longer and left yourself drift off.

Natasha grinned at Wanda who was stroking your hair as you laid on her shoulder asleep.

It was an adorable sight and Nat may or may not have taken a photo of all three of you together with you asleep in the middle.

After the two listened to your slightly wheezy breathing and elected to let you sleep for now and to monitor your breathing, Wanda put on a sit-com on the Tv on a low volume as her and Nat settled in.

Over the course of the afternoon Wanda and Nat kept a close eye on you as you slept. Listening to the wheeze in your exhale and making sure it didn’t get worse or require your asthma inhaler.

Once or twice when Wanda checked your temperature with her hand against your forehead you nuzzled into her palm, still sleeping which warmed the witch's heart

You were adorable in her eyes and the glint in Natasha’s said she felt the same way.

At one point your powers began acting up as Wanda wanted to get up for some water and she found herself stuck to you.

She had looked lost and slightly bewildered while Nat giggled and helped her pry you off her.

“Tony says peter does the same thing when he’s sick. They can’t control it.” Nat had explained to Wanda in a hushed and slightly amused whisper so as not to wake you.

Finally at around five in the evening Wanda decided she needed to get up and cook dinner.

As she slid out of bed you began to wiggle a bit, seeking the warmth that had been there moments ago as you had been tucked into her side.

Wanda watched like a deer in headlights to see if you would wake up.

Instead, you simply rolled over and latched onto Natasha leg. Clinging to it like a baby sloth cuddling its mama.

Natasha had looked surprised almost shocked at the turn of events and Wanda hid a giggle behind her hand at Nat’s comical expression before she schooled her features.

It took a lot to surprise Natasha, but you had managed to do it within only knowing her for two days.

Wanda silently slipped out the door as Natasha looked down at you with a peaceful smile.

No longer paying attention to the Tv she was gazing down at you as she gently traced a pattern on your arm.

Despite having only known you for two days, Wanda and Natasha had found themselves almost entranced by you. From the way your nose scrunched up when you smiled to the way it twitched like a bunny before you sneezed.

Peter had kept telling them stories about you and your escapades as spider-man that had often landed him in trouble with Tony.

Wanda and Natasha had found all the walls they had spent years building over their scarred hearts to have melted in the presence of your sunny disposition, even if it was buried under a little sickness at the moment.

Wanda wanted to learn more about you, she always loved stories as a child, but you seemed like the best novel she may ever get the chance to read. And she wanted nothing more than to write the rest of your chapters together. She would be willing to bleed the ink from her own body to write your happily ever after together on the same page. To exist in a world of you and her. To add to the ecosystem that fed her soul. Because she always felt she had room for more un her heart. She had felt love like this before, once before, and it was double as she had laid in the bed with the both of you.

Natasha dreamed of finding someone that felt like home. After so long running from false families and a broken childhood, she wanted nothing more than to curl up and relax with someone that made her feel safe. Someone that made her feel the same way you do when you drink hot chocolate while watching the snow drift down on a winter wonderland. You were the home she was looking for. The way your heart touched hers, reached for her like a magnet was something she rarely felt. Something she had only ever felt once before. With another redhead who lived in the tower.

Wanda finished making dinner at around six. Before calling the team, she plated up three dishes of food and left the kitchen.

Only once she was safely clear and, in the lift, did she tell Jarvis to alert the team for dinner.

When Wanda stepped back into your room the first thing, she noticed was the concern on Natashas face.

Many may see the black widow as a cold heartless woman, yet that was just her persona in front of the cameras.

Sure, she was hard to crack open at first, but it seems she had taken a liking to you almost immediately.

Behind closed doors Natasha was quite a sweet and caring person for those she loved, showing her affection in indirect manners such as little gifts and cracking jokes at just the right time.

As wanda approached the bed she begun to realise why Nat was worried.

Your breathing which they had been monitoring had grown more wheezy.

Nat looked up from where she had been studying your face to look at wanda.

“I wasn’t sure if I should let her sleep or wake her to use her inhaler.” Nat said.

“No, you did the right thing. We have to wake her up for dinner now anyway, so we’ll have her use it now.” Wanda said with a small smile.

“We should also check her temperature and give her some more medicine.” Nat added and wanda agreed with a nod as she placed the dishes down on the desk.

Natasha gently began to rub your arm. “Y/n/n. Y/n/n wake up.” Nat said softly and after a second you batted her hand away drawing a chuckle from Wanda.

“Noooo let me sleep.” You said but Nat wasn’t having it.

You tried to pull the covers over your head but Nat held them down in place on the bed with her foot.

“Would you get up if I told you wanda made dinner?” Nat asked and wanda stifled a chuckle behind her hand as you cracked one eye open.

“Maybe.” You said and wriggled so you were sat against the headboard.

“Good. But before you get dinner its medicine time.” Nat said and you groaned in protest.

“There’s always a catch.” You grumbled and Wanda winked at you.

“For you? Always.” Wanda grinned and you gave her a half-hearted glare.

Natasha pressed your inhaler into your hand, and you simply blinked at her. “I don’t need it.” You said.

“I’m not asking again.” Nat smiled sweetly.

“Technically you didn’t ask the first time.” You said and looked at wanda for backup where she was leaning against the desk with an amused smile.

“Nope.” She said popping the p. “I can hear you wheezing from here bubs. Take it and breath like the rest of us.” She said smugly.

“Whatever.” You pouted and took the inhaler, ignoring them both and looking at a spot on the wall.

When you were done wanda patted your cheek.

“Good.” She said handing you a thermometer you took and dutifully placed under your tongue.

When it beeped Nat’s quick hands beat you to it and stole the device from your lips.

“99.8 it’s gone down.” Nat said with a smile.

“Yay.” You drawled sarcastically.

Before you could even get another word or remark in Wanda placed two tablets into your hand. “Swallow these.” She instructed and pressed a glass of water into your other hand.

You sighed and did as you were told, making both women smile at each other.

As the three of you ate you complemented Wanda’s cooking and savoured the food.

The two women chatted to you about the avengers asking any questions you had. When dinner was done, they could see you fighting to stay awake.

When do I get to meet the team?” You asked over a yawn you directed into your fist.

“Well, we’ll see how you feel in the morning and go from there.” Wanda smiled as she messed around with the pillows. “Get some sleep Y/n.” She smiled and you nodded, too tired to argue.

Settling down you were asleep before they two had left the room.

PART 3