#this all feels like last year so closely idk maybe worse even it feels worse im not sure why

[0tul1ss]

.

[fagrights]

today was so difficult and the thing is i dont think its going to get any easier any time soon

[pirateprincessblog]

Strawberry Mocha

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: your favorite café has a new barista, and he seems oddly familiar, especially when you see his hands move when he prepares your favourite beverage 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jung wooyoung x reader, ft yunho 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 24.7k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: barista!wooyoung, student!reader, camboy!wooyoung, virgin!reader, hopelesslyinlove!yunho 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: masturbation, mutual masturbation, sexting, public oral, public fingering, blindfold, slight bondage, toys, edging

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, v-card loss, angst on yunho's side 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: pussy drunk wooyo idk man also i imagine wooyo as bouncy wooyo here with that hot ass hair purr but make it oreo like he had it in aotm

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫s 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

nsfw link(s): one

anastasya wants to chat! click here to see one new message.

"hello, gorgeous. want to see my pussy?" - tina, less than 10 km away.

luciano is more than ready to show you the 8th world wonder.

"close. close. close." your words are synchronized with the clicking of your mouse. with each minute passing, each click is getting more aggressive.

sick and tired of all the sex ads interrupting your studying over an illegally found textbook, you bury your head into your pillow. your back hurts from laying on your stomach for hours, but it is the only position that helps you with period cramps. the laptop makes a noise again, one you've heard enough of for the last few hours.

"i really don't want to fuck you, nick." you whine, clicking at the x in the corner of the new ad. when it opens three new tabs, all you can do is groan and close the laptop. you have an exam tomorrow, today is your first day of the period, which means tomorrow it's going to be worse, and to make things better, you are bombarded with photos of nude men and women, with attached locations, chat boxes and quotes. you feel sick.

yet again, you have just a little more of this lesson left, and if you could manage to spend so many hours fighting the virus bots, you can do it for ten more minutes. all out of motivation and will to live, you turn the laptop back on. the screen brightness almost blinds you, you forget how dark it has become and how bright your screen is. your eyes skim over the words, your brain so focused on focusing, that you forget to focus. you are frustrated, in pain, your hair is so greasy you could model it like clay, and your are nails half bitten off.

three minutes until your sleeping schedule starts, and five more long paragraphs to read. taking a deep breath, you click the arrow to scroll. as if the laptop is mocking you, it delivers you another message.

wooyoung (23), offers both mental and physical relief. check it out!

the ad flashes across the whole screen, the x not even visible on this one. you don't feel anything anymore. you've gone completely numb. accepted your fate. this will be your reminder to not study the last day ever again. you stare at the pink letters, then the picture on the side of it. it shows a young man, and oddly enough, not all oiled up and naked on it. it is a selfie, and in it he lays on the bed in the same position as you. how odd, to put a normal and clothed person on a sex ad.

"fuck it."

you drag the arrow over the highlighted letters, sighing. months, maybe even a whole year spent without a sexual contact. you didn't crave it. nothing in real life turned you on. maybe you didn't pay enough attention. maybe you've overgrown simple flirting and poor tries of having one night stands at parties. maybe all those young adult fantasy books on your shelves have raised your standards. looking back at the things that used to get you going makes you cringe. you've evolved from poorly acted out porn videos, to pages full of dark haired morally grey characters, blindfolds, leather gloves, candle wax, and whatnot.

you have yet to try out anything other than poor rubbings over the jeans you've received, not even orgasming. one night, three whole minutes of a drunk guy almost irritating your skin from harsh rubs, and a fake moan later, you start to wonder if you're the problem. proposing the idea of anything other than missionary and oral would make you the weird one, especially since you're a virgin. men here are shallow, and would rather jerk off to an amateur movie than try to match your standards and make the whole thing actually enjoyable.

the link you've clicked on doesn't open multiple tabs like the previous ones did. instead, it opens a single site, which first asks you to register and confirm your age. eager to see if the man in the picture was really the one offering such services, you log in with your google account, which unknowingly to you, used your picture and real name to set up the new account. your notes and pens are discarded on the floor, and your focus is on the man currently showing off his rings.

his hands are veiny, that is the first thing you notice. decorated with silver rings, nails neatly trimmed, with the pinky one painted black, and fingers oddly satisfying to look at. he brushes those same fingers through his hair, making it change colour for a split second. you notice that he is half blonde, which just makes you realize that sleep is not an option tonight. at least not yet.

"anyone want to open today's topic before i start?" he offers, scrolling through the comments.

you watch as people comment various topics and requests, the main one being for him to start touching himself already. for a sex cam, he does quite a lot of talking. maybe that's why you haven't left the site yet, but are staring at the way his teeth are biting his lip while his eyes focus on the bright screen.

"your friends are shaming you for having a threesome?" he reads out loud, then sighs. "they're probably virgins. or inexperienced girls who got fucked once then dumped. only they shame people for their sexual desires. they have no creativity at all. i can't imagine jerking off with just my hand anymore. feels bland. don't worry about them."

your fingers are quicker than your brain, and before you even register it, you hit send.

a soft laugh travels to your ears, and you just know it's because of your comment.

"you beg to differ?" he says, brushing his hair back again. he takes a moment to think. his rings shine under the dimmed lights, and you can't help but wonder how it would be to feel that cool sensation on your body.

you'd love to have him feel you up and down with this rings on, a cold contrast on your hot skin. you wouldn't budge if he were to put that hand against your neck, giving it light squeezes just enough to give you a thrill. you'd even let him do it in front of that camera of his, make all of these thirsty girls jealous because you're the one moaning his name. shit, you're really into him. or rather this whole situation. and he hasn't done a single sexual gesture.

"a virgin on my page. interesting." the young man hums, his eyebrows scrunched. "isn't life boring as a virgin? i mean, what do you do?"

i study, you're quick to reply again.

"i meant sexually, love." he laughs, somewhat fondly.

was it that obvious that you're a virgin? your cheeks feel hot, and you now wish to exit the page. but by doing that, you'll just prove him right. he'll make fun of you too, just like he did to those friends. you sigh. he doesn't know who you are, so it doesn't matter. you'll be honest, and maybe he'll give you a solution.

using hands isn't that boring

"ever tried a toy? or a person?"

tried a person. got disappointed.

"ah, what a shame. let me guess, gave you blisters from rubbing?"

oh just how did you know?

"poor thing," he coos, "if you had come to the right person, i would've given you just what you need."

the words come out raspy, and there's a sudden change on his face. you wonder if you said anything wrong. if he was thinking about banning you. but instead, a notification pops up in the corner of your screen.

wooyoung has sent you a message request!

oh.

oh.

"anyways, let's move on. am i in a hotel? ah, no. i recently moved houses, this will be my new filming room now. not as special as the previous one, but i need time to decorate it."

he keeps talking, eyes glancing at his phone every now and then, as if expecting you to answer right away. you are shaking, your head feels dizzy, and you find it hard to swallow. was he going to tell you privately to fuck off of his site? how embarrassing that would be. you wouldn't ever recover.

wooyoung has sent you a message request!

two of them now, yet you're still debating whether or not to exit and delete your browsing history. it won't hurt to look. you don't have to reply. you can just take a peek, leave him on read, and fuck out of there. it's not like he will see you on the street tomorrow. he could be on a whole different continent, and yet, he could be five houses away from you. either way, you're feeling vulnerable. those messages are either humiliation, or something entirely different. both of those make you feel uneasy.

then again, this is the only thing that sparked something inside you in these few months of feeling burnt out from reading all that erotica. the only difference is, this is happening. really happening. a whole man is in your chat, while he has an ongoing sex stream with more than five thousand people watching and commenting. and so when you say fuck it, you mean it.

wooyoung: ever tried an innocent soft little pillow?

wooyoung: guaranteed, feels better than a horny teenage boy.

your breathing is shallow, and you fear that you might collapse. his next message contains a phone number, and then, you watch him drop the phone on his bed. his focus is now on the camera, and the way his eyes stare into the lens, makes you feel as if they're searching for you. deciding to further test the waters, and see if he is just trying to have a little fun, or if he really has taken an ounce of interest in an inexperienced watcher, you send a text back.

he stops mid sentence, glancing at his phone. he fails to hide a smirk, and you're not sure whether it is the one of amusement or mocking.

am I, a boring old virgin, good enough for a pillow?

being a virgin doesn't mean you're all that innocent. quite the opposite, in your friend group, you are the one who leaves them all shocked when you speak of your desires. yet, who guarantees that this guy can accomplish what you want? they all want to "rock your world", show you how "good" it can be, until the make-out session is over and they come in their pants from simple dry humping. and you? who cares about if you came. your job is done the moment they come to their senses, and you are left to your growing disappointment in young men your age again.

wooyoung: does the boring old virgin know how to use one? perhaps some assistance is needed?

you swallow. you've never used anything other than your hand before. for someone with such a creative mind, you were quite a bore when it comes to pleasing yourself. you were used to your own touch, and you desperately needed someone else to fill the spot.

you glance at the screen. he is now holding something in his hand. it's clear, and long, and you're not sure if you've seen that before. your mind doesn't get enough time to form a thought, because he sticks two fingers in his mouth. he swirls the tongue around them, coating them until they're shimmering like the rings. sensually slow, he takes them out, making sure to give the camera a dreamy gaze. he turns the gadget towards the camera, and just when you figure out what it is, he brings his wet fingers to the hole in the toy. he circles the entrance, causing your tights to squeeze. you are so mesmerized by the way he slowly inserts his fingers into the toy, that you don't realize you are almost panting.

"need to prepare her for me."  he says, giving it a few slow pumps.

you can almost feel his fingers on your cunt, he is just that good at this. each pump of his fingers sends a wave of butterflies straight to your abdomen. it's so painful, to be horny on your period. otherwise you would've came twice by now.

"think I've prepared her enough?"

comments are flooded with positive feedback, and the young man smirks. he readjusts the camera, and sits with his back against the bed frame. he wears short sweatpants, perfectly showing off his not so humble size. he takes his sweet time to undo the knot on them, driving the watchers (including you) insane. he laughs at the comments, and decides it's enough teasing.

"for all the virgins here tonight," he says, then glances at his phone.

finally, he pulls his sweats down. his cock find its place in his hand, not allowing you to take a better look. wooyoung gives himself a few slow strokes, head falling against the headboard as he does so. he hums, licking his fingers and pressing them against his cock. you have stopped breathing. his gaze is fixed on the lens, eyelids half closed, and breathing shallow. your eyes watch his movements, carefully documenting and engraving them in your brain so you can replay them for the next few weeks. he takes the toy, sliding it on his cock. your mouth drops when you see the absolute relief on his face, followed by an eyeroll and a deep moan. you figure that the toy serves him as a fake pussy. why a fake one, when he can have anyone he likes? his watchers must get jealous. you would be too, if you saw someone so hot that gives you such attention fuck someone else.

a few strokes in, and he is already bucking his hips upwards and moaning. wet noises travel to your ears, paired with multiple curses and sighs. suddenly, he sits up, grabbing two pillows from behind his back. he places a pillow on the mattress, the toy, then another pillow on top of all that. you almost gasp when you see him spit on his fingers, rubbing his cock, then slowly insert it into the toy. he grabs the pillows, then plunges his hips into it. he groans, and stays inside for a moment. then, he starts off with slow thrusts.

you've read so much about rough sex, that you didn't even think about the sensual side of it. how good it must be to savour every caress, every lick and every stroke. to actually take your time, like he is taking it with a simple toy. to be at his mercy for hours, what you'd give. helpless, deprived of senses, only him and you. you feel your heartbeat slow down as he stares into the lens, hips moving with such pace that has your stomach almost exploding.

overwhelmed by the situation unfolding in front of you, you shut your laptop down. you see your face on the black screen; cheeks puffed, pupils dilated, and mouth dry. fuck, what was that? did you just watch live porn? and did you interact with the person doing it? you check the time, and with a loud groan, you place the laptop on the floor and roll over. you have so little time to get some quality sleep, yet you're wide awake. your studying is nowhere near done, and you just know that a prayer won't save you tomorrow. from the exam, nor from the cramps.

surprisingly, you passed the exam. everything you've read last night managed to stick to your brain, despite the crazy situation that had interrupted you. you have already forgotten about it. when you woke up, it all seemed like a part of your dream. a very real dream. today, you didn't have time to think about it. your hair is a greasy mess, and an oversized hoodie hangs from your shoulders, covering your bloated stomach. you've dreamed about a cup of your favorite pink beverage all morning, and when the clock finally showed a sweet number four, you were the first one to run out of the building. your phone lays forgotten at the bottom of your backpack, mind too cluttered with the upcoming projects and cramps.

the coffee shop isn't as busy for a monday morning, and the timing is just right. you cannot stand anymore, so when you get next in line, you are relieved. you take a good look at the menu above the counter, happy that you've made it through such a tough morning.

"good day, how can i help you?"

your smile fades as quick as it arrives. you feel like all the blood in your body has pooled down in your feet, making it hard to move.

"oh, do you need to sit down? you look very..." the voice pauses, and you can feel an intense gaze on your face, before he continues "...pale."

you drop your gaze, slowly, feeling like the person is going to catch on if you do it in normal pace. right in front of you, stands the man who you watched fuck a pillow last night. he is very much real, not a fruit of your imagination combined with exhaust. he smiles sweetly, showing you towards a chair. you don't move. instead, you blink, and let your mouth run.

"i'll have the strawberry mocha please."

he scrunches his eyebrows, but begins to tap on his screen anyway.

"whipp-?"

"with whipped cream, thanks. just, uh, extra syrup. and pearl sprinkles."

he raises an eyebrow, looking at you suspiciously. you can't tell if it's because of your relation to his odd interaction last night, or simply because you are acting weird.

"that'll be-"

you interrupt again, pressing your credit card to the gadget near the cash register, eyes not leaving the wooden surface. with behaviour like this, he will soon figure out why you are acting this way. you must stop, before you embarrass yourself more.

"name?"

"anna," you blurt out, just in case.

"right," you think you hear him scoff, and if it weren't for your brain slowing down with each second, you would've asked what's so funny.

once he types in everything he needs, he points towards an empty section, gesturing you to take a seat. sitting on that chair has never been more uncomfortable for you. you feel like you sat on thorns, and no matter how you adjust, you are just making annoying creaking noises.

you glance at the man behind the counter. a lump forms in your throat as your eyes scan his hand movements. he is invested in the shaker, fingers skillfully moving it in the air. your concentration gets stolen by his face, loose strands falling on it eyes focused on the drink, and eyebrows scrunched. even if he was a aware of you staring, (you doubt he didn't notice), he doesn't spare you a glance. he pours the drink into the iced cup, spilling a little on his fingers and on the counter. you follow his hand, which takes a straw and drops it into the cup, and then moves towards his mouth. your breath stops in your throat, and your eyes almost drop on the floor.

he sticks the two wet fingers in his mouth, slowly, and looks up right at you. he catches you red handed, or better said, red cheeked. you're flustered by his hot, unprofessional, but hot move. and as if that wasn't enough, he has the audacity to maintain eyecontact as he brings you your beverage, a slight smirk dancing on his lips.

"your drink, anna."

"thank you, woo-" you freeze.

idiot. fucking idiot.

"ah, you managed to read my name tag."

he saves you, perhaps unknowingly. the amount of attention that his hands are gaining from you should be concerning, yet you still can't stop admiring those strangely attractive veins peeking from under his rolled up sleeve, going all the way to the fingers which are fixing the name tag.

"wooyoung, your shift ended ten minutes ago!" the voice behind the counter calls.

"oops." he snickers, then makes his way towards the counter, allowing you to take a look at his back too.

the thin white shirt is a little tight on his body, just enough to show off quite a few lines on his back. funnily enough, even though you've seen him naked, something about those clothes giving you a teaser is much more of a button pusher for you. the anticipation and buildup were always more interesting to you than the actual thing they lead to.

you laugh at yourself. as if any of that is going to happen to you any time soon. deciding you've spent enough time out of your comfy apartment today, you decide to put a lid on your coffee and leave the shop. at the door, someone tries to get out before you, but once they realize it's a bit tight for both, two hands gently find their way on your waist. a strong scent of jasmine washes over your senses, warm and firm body pressed against your back.

"oh, watch it, love."

and with that, you stand on the entrance, watching the familiar man run off to his car, the barista apron resting over his shoulder.

wooyoung: disconnected mid show?

wooyoung: was it too overwhelming for your first time?

wooyoung: shame, i put my all into that orgasm, only to see you disconnected long ago

you are rolling in your bed, listening to the messages that are being read out loud by your very best friend. disbelief evident in his voice, he reads, over and over. you haven't yet replied, and having an actual encounter with him today didn't make it easier for you to do so.

"he's, like, a hundred percent real?"

"he very much is."

"are you sure? because ai is getting very scary these days-"

"yunho." you sit up, face inches away from him. "i stood this close to him."

the tips of his ears turn red, and you manage to catch a single glance he sends towards your lips. you ignore it, trying to convince yourself that if you do not notice, it will not happen. his behaviour will stop.

"he is very much real."

"o-okay," he stutters, turning his head sideways as to avoid being caught staring again, "so what now?"

"i don't know. what is there to do? he's just some porn guy, and i was just an accidental watcher. nothing is going to happen."

"and-"

your phone pings, as if knowing what yunho was about to ask.

"-the messages?"

"i'll just..." you stall, glancing at the phone and trying to see the notification, "...delete it all."

the man in front of you scoffs, believing in your words as much as you. he gets off your bed, picking up his jacket along the way.

"i'll see you in class tomorrow."

you only nod, feeling guilt pooling up at the bottom of your stomach. yet, as soon as you hear the door shut, you grab your phone. indeed, messages from wooyoung are taking up your phone screen.

wooyoung: out of curiosity, you didn't happen to try the pillow thing?

wooyoung: need to borrow mine?

you bite your lip, and your eyes fall on the pile of pillows yunho used to make himself comfortable.

i haven't tried it. and no, i have four of them.

wooyoung: shame. bet they'd love to be suffocated between your legs.

you choke on your spit, eyes skimming over the message multiple times.

that one of your fetishes? being suffocated with female tights?

wooyoung: you have no idea.

a few minutes pass,and you are thinking of various replies to send to him. do you keep talking to him? do you start flirting? is this considered flirting? if yes, are you doing a good job? a few more minutes pass before your phone dings again, wooyoung interrupting your thinking process.

wooyoung: well, i see that you're extremely disinterested in my tries of communication, so i shall just leave you be. hope my actions and i weren't overwhelming for you. if that's the case, my sincere apologies. you're always welcome to my lives though.

wooyoung: oh, and good luck studying!

"no, no," you whisper, seeing the online tag under his name disappear. your lack of communication with actual confident men and your awkwardness in general made him back off. it all felt too real to be true, but it was real. and you let it slip away. your only chance at gaining experience and living out your fantasies.

i'm not disinterested!

shit, you shouldn't have sent that exclamation mark. he will think you are desperate now. he doesn't reply, nor does the tag under his name reappear. you wait, minutes, half an hour, just rolling on the bed and switching between apps, trying to see if he at least went online. maybe he only read it from his notifications, and that wasn't enough to make him come back. you pick up the last few ounces of desperation you have left, and grab a pillow. you sit on it, crushing it between your legs, and pull your oversized hoodie just enough to cover your bottom and expose your thighs. you have discarded the pants the moment you entered the house, already used to walking around in yunho's old comfy boxers. you snap a picture, once, then twice, until you are satisfied with the angle and all the details that he may not even notice; like your chipped nail polish or the messy notes from yunho's studying.

instantly, wooyoung comes back online. he begins typing, then stops. he types again, and stops once more. you are biting your nails, regretting already. now that he knows how desperate you are, he will lose interest in you. you would too if you were him. you zoom into the picture, trying to figure out if anything is wrong with it.

wooyoung saved the picture in the chat!

oh.

wooyoung: fuck, that's

wooyoung: wow

wooyoung: those are the smoothest and softest thighs i've ever seen in my life

wooyoung: you know when you look at something and you know the texture of it? i bet i could just sink between them just like that pillow

wooyoung: could you ride that for me, angel?

the nickname sends arrows to your core, and you gulp. he knows his way with words, and you are so here for it. you can feel yourself dripping, and not from what you're supposed to drip from. your horny levels hit the sky on your period, and oh, how convenient that all of this is happening on the second day of it. he doesn't have to know, you could keep him hooked, until your period is done. but then what? what guarantees that he will not lose interest once he has a little fun with you with all the dirty talk?

your hands work against your brain, and soon enough, you are grinding on the soft material, one hand holding the phone and the other one covering your mouth so that no noises come out of it. if it feels good with so many layers on you, how good can it feel with your bare clit rubbing against it?

wooyoung: atta girl

wooyoung: feel good?

you only moan at the praise he delivers you, hips speeding up the pace.

yes, you manage to quickly type in.

wooyoung: can you type and work it? is it hard for my good girl to multitask?

you set the phone aside, focusing entirely on the object between your legs. you roll your hips, dedicated to chasing the sweet pleasure that has abandoned you for so long. at the memory of his skilled hips last night, the orgasm washes over you so quickly. his choice of words significantly sped up the process, and you aren't to complain. you take your time to calm your breathing, before taking the phone in your hands again. it was new, and different, but most importantly, fucking good.

the euphoria doesn't last long, the look of horror replacing the one of pure bliss on your face. right under wooyoung's message stood yours.

voice message sent.

it is you shamelessly whimpering and grunting, mere four seconds of it, yet enough to make wooyoung save it in the chat.

wooyoung: is it christmas already?

wooyoung: i keep getting present after present. what did i do to deserve it?

wooyoung: i better go fix the problem you've created.

wooyoung has sent a picture! tap to view.

the picture is dark, but there is just enough lighting for you to see his defined v-line and the bulge in his sweatpants. you bite the inside of your cheek, suppressing a smile. you made someone horny. not just anyone, but wooyoung, a porn creator. he has surely seen lots of things, how come a fully clothed picture and a four second audio could get him in the mood?

you have saved the picture in the chat!

in the next few days, you ask yunho to pick up the beverage from the coffee shop while you grab something to eat. he is happy that you started including breakfast in your day, and isn't yet aware that you are only avoiding the man he also knew about. perhaps wooyoung worked different shifts, and they didn't have an encounter yet? it's a bit cruel towards yunho, but you can't make yourself go in there. not until you've grown some dignity.

today, yunho isn't here. he has only answered to your message, saying that he has a flu, and that he will be resting for a day or two. which leaves you to getting the coffee on your own. you run from the rain, your umbrella broken and swimming away somewhere down the road. you would've picked it up and threw it away, really, if that lighting wasn't so close to you and you started running for your life. you are soaked, the hoodie stuck to your skin and the shorts uncomfortable and heavy. you hurriedly enter the coffee shop and exhale, the warmth of the place caressing your cold cheeks. you notice the place is empty, and the chairs are neatly tucked under the tables. the surfaces have been freshly wiped, and no menus or decorations were on them.

you approach the counter, ready to grab your beverage and leave before you make a bigger mess. nobody is there, the syrups and coffee cans are neatly placed on the shelves, not a drop of water visible on the counters. your eyes notice a little board, with pink letters on it.

due to sudden illness of two out of three workers, we are forced to work short hours this week. thank you for understanding!

underneath, you see that they work until four in the afternoon. you check the time, and upon noticing that it is just two minutes before four, you sigh. you turn around, ready to leave and rid the poor worker of trouble after they already prepared the place for closing.

"oh, i'm terribly sorry, i didn't notice you!"

the voice makes your blood run cold, and once again, you find yourself frozen in spot. only this time, you are all alone with him. no people surrounding you. just him, you, and the crazy weather outside.

"please, feel free to order. you have a minute and a half to place it!"

you turn around, eyes locking with brown ones. he is smiling sweetly, pointing towards the menu above his head.

"i don't want to bother you. you've cleaned the whole place and-" your eyes drop on the see through shirt hugging his body "-you've already taken your apron off."

"luckily, my boss is sick too so she can't give me crap about it. i can make your drink without it."

you make your way towards the counter again, eyes skimming over the menu, knowing damn well what you're going to order. you just have to buy yourself time so you can calm down. the scent of jasmine is taking over your senses, creeping into your mind and bringing back memories you wish so hard to forget so you can move on with your life. he is tugging you into the void, and you have nothing to get you out of there. you haven't heard from him since the day you rode the pillow for him, and you didn't have time to watch any of his lives.

"well, then. i'll have a strawberry mocha."

"ah, so it's your usual then."

"yes. extra syrup. and the pearl sprinkles, please."

"and whipped cream, yes", he types in the order, then looks behind. "you know, we have some strawberry cupcakes that didn't sell today due to the weather. would you like one? on the house!"

you hesitate, not wanting to waste his time. he could be home by now, doing something important. like filming himself. or texting you after you've left him on seen. or better said, saved.

"i really don't want to waste your time."

"you're not wasting my time, trust me. besides, i'd rather stay here a little more until my phone finishes charging. i don't want to get stuck in that weather outside with no battery."

he sees you hesitate and eye up the pink pastries, desire obvious in your eyes. he chuckles, then brings the whole tray on the counter.

"tell you what," he grabs the items needed for your beverage, not breaking eye contact with you, "i'll make us two strawberry mochas, and we'll eat those cupcakes so they don't get wasted until the weather calms down. sound good?"

you gulp. the look on your face is a complete opposite of him, as well as your body language. he is relaxed, beaming with confidence, and has a smile on his lips. meanwhile, you are stiff, your face is blank, maybe even scared at the fact that you're gonna be alone with the man who made you cum without touching you. but when thunder echoes through the place, you agree.

it doesn't take him long to make them and bring them to your booth in the corner of the shop. the smell of strawberries is the only thing keeping you sane at the moment. he sits across from you, shirt half unbuttoned, as if it's the warmest day of the spring outside. he doesn't have a care in the world. he silently enjoys the cupcake, occasionally glancing at you. you are slow with yours, careful not to stain your clothes with the pink icing.

"want to try?"

you look over at him. he brings his glass closer towards you, and aligns the straw with your lips.

"isn't it the same?"

"well, no." he laughs awkwardly. "try it, trust me."

you try taking the glass from him, but he is persistent in holding it for you. you wrap your lips around the straw, eyes locked with his dark ones.

"atta girl." he hums.

you swear you could orgasm right there on the spot. you pull at the liquid, cheeks hollowing and creating a perfect scene for him. he is dead serious, the smirks and chuckles long left behind the counter. the moment your tongue tastes alcohol, you push the drink away from you, creamy liquid dripping from your lips.

"fuck, is that whiskey?"

you wipe your top off with your sleeve, not yet realizing wooyoung's intense gaze on your lips.

"yes." he replies, as if it's the most normal thing in the world.

"god, why?" you finally lick the cream off your lips, ridding wooyoung of more fantasies forming in his head.

"it's good. why, don't like alcohol?"

you never really did. sure, you drank some tequilas, and a little gin of course, but not to the point to get drunk or actually go for a full round or two.

"i'm actually quite a virgin when it comes to alcohol."

the words are left hanging in the air, silence wrapping you both up. one might think that you knew exactly what you were doing with the choice of words, but you were plain dense. and wooyoung was here for it. he was whipped for all the innocent sides you were unknowingly showing him, but lord forbid he tells you anything. otherwise, you might stop talking at all.

"you can come over for classes if you want..." he brings the glass back in front of him, a smirk dancing on his lips, "...anna."

"yeah, i don't want any alcohol after my real classes, thank you."

the conversation stops, the only sound being quiet chewing and the rain pouring. wooyoung takes his time to think, and so do you.

"that yunho guy-"

"what do you do in your free time-"

you start at the same time. yunho? how does he know his name?

"you go first," you offer, unwrapping another cupcake.

"that yunho guy, he orders a single strawberry mocha with extra syrup and pearl sprinkles every day when you don't come. whipped cream too, of course. for you, assuming?"

you nod, poking those same sprinkles with your straw. yunho has been a little more absent in your life since this whole thing has started, and you feel bad to admit that you didn't really miss him. you weren't using him for coffee or homework, of course. you still like to occasionally chat with him, just not like before. especially since his feelings are coming more to the surface.

"yes, for me."

wooyoung hums, not asking further questions.

"so uh, wooyoung, right? you're new here?" you opt for a different question, seeing that he didn't remind you to finish the previous one.

"jung wooyoung, yes. i moved from los angeles recently, didn't find my luck there."

"ah, what do you do?"

"porn."

and just like that, the conversation stops. at least from your side. your head hangs low over your paper cup, fingers now playing with the cupcake wrap as you feel his gaze on you.

"are we going to act like you don't know what that is?"

"i know what it is," you stutter, fingers ripping the wrap apart and playing with bits from nervousness, "i just don't quite, you know, fit in that area."

"you sure fit in that night."

you choke on your spit, eyes shooting up to look at him. his elbow rests on the desk, supporting his head, while his other one plays with the empty cup. his finger grazes the corners, slowly circling it, as if trying to help you remember that night and the way the did it to the toy. your mouth goes dry, and you feel at his complete mercy.

"how-" you clear your throat, the roughness of it a dead giveaway that he caught you, "-how did you, uh, know?"

"you're telling me you saw nothing wrong with entering the coffee shop with that hoodie on, knowing full well i work here?"

you look down at the hoodie you're wearing. how fucking ironic, that it's the same hoodie you posed in for him. you really are that dense.

"i should get going."

"i can drive you home. you're not thinking of walking in this weather?"

him and you? in such a small space? for such a long time? what if you blurt out more stupid things, as if you haven't embarrassed yourself enough today? you wouldn't blame him if he left you on the side of the road.

the train of thoughts is interrupted by your name rolling off his lips so sweetly, dripping milk and honey. your actual name, not the fake one you gave him.

"yes?"

"i'm not camboy wooyoung now. i'm just wooyoung, your friendly barista. and when i say i can and want to drive you home, i mean it. no funny business. the last thing i want to do is make a loyal costumer uncomfortable."

it doesn't take long for him to clean up the table and grab his phone from the charging station. you patiently wait by the door, ears and cheeks warm from the unfamiliar situation you've found yourself in. you follow his commands, such as coming behind the counter and slipping through the staff door so that the cameras don't catch you. you squeeze into the pantry, waiting for him to lock the doors one by one.

"so, that yunho guy didn't take your virginity yet?" he blurts out, as if it is the most normal question he could ask.

"what?"

"well," he turns around, facing you, "he is your boyfriend after all, isn't he?"

"that's not quite- oh-" you are pressed into the corner, with wooyoung blocking the way out. he puts his hands on the wall, trapping you between his arms and forcing you to look at him.

"does your boyfriend know that you watch filth and film yourself for another man?"

"he isn't-"

"does he know that his innocent little girlfriend is alone with that same man inside an empty coffee shop, away from everyone?"

you fail to answer, instead opting for silence. your eyes fall on his exposed chest, fingers yearning to touch. you feel a hand under your chin, gently lifting your head up so that you can look at him again. you see pure desire in his eyes, and now you know exactly what the authors mean when they say that his eyes darkened with lust. you are witnessing it first hand, and now that you are finally here, you are not acting the way you did in your mind.

he brings his face close to yours, his loose hair strands tickling your cheeks. his breathing is shallow, much like yours, and when he slowly presses his lips against yours, you breathing stops completely. he holds your chin in his hand, thumb gently rubbing your cheek, while his other hand finds its place on your hip. he pulls your body into his, and ever so gently bites down on your bottom lip.

your first normal kiss ever. with the man you watched masturbate on a crucial studying night. he pulls away, just enough to move your hair out of the way.

"am i making you uncomfortable?" he asks, concern taking over his features.

"no," you whisper, not trusting your voice.

"you sure?"

"please keep kissing me." you look up at him, and wooyoung swears that he has never seen such big pleading eyes in his entire life. just how can he deny you such a thing, when you asked him so sweetly and innocently?

wooyoung loses control, and lets his heart take over. his hands grab your waist, picking you up and seating you on a nearby surface, knocking some cups and cutlery over in the process. his lips are pressed against yours again, moving slowly until you get used to it. your hands hesitantly wrap around his neck, fingers playing with the hair on it. wooyoung exhales into your lips, absolutely whipped for your little gestures.

you are soaking wet. you hope he doesn't feel it, considering he has your legs wrapped around his waist and your cunt pressed against his firm torso. with each kiss he so generously delivers you, a new batch of butterflies gets released in your stomach, making you feel all giggly and excited. he smells absolutely heavenly, and the way his tongue is grazing your lips is driving you mad. his fingers press into your thigh, feeling the flesh and lightly squeezing it. so he really does have a thigh fetish.

you whine when he pulls away from you, only to attach his lips to your neck. he drags his tongue down the side of your neck, to your collarbone. his hands sneak under your hoodie, lingering on your bare skin for a moment. you realize he is waiting for a sign to keep going, so you help him raise your hoodie right under your chest.

"should i stop?"

you didn't quite picture him as a man who would ask for consent multiple times. but then again, he is a man. not a boy. and just like he said: right now, he isn't camboy wooyoung. he is your friendly barista wooyoung. a particularly touchy friendly barista wooyoung. not that you're complaining.

"angel?"

absolutely lost in the way he is looking at you, you fail to answer. you feel so small in his arms, and so inexperienced when it comes to simple kissing. god, what if he wants something more right away?

"i need to know you're comfortable. i won't do anything if-"

you stop him by taking his hand and placing it on your breast. he gulps, gently squeezing the soft flesh. why does he seem so nervous? doesn't he fuck multiple people in a span of a month?

he rubs your tense buds, sending little shockwaves to your core. as soon as you lift the hoodie to your collarbones, wooyoung is quick to take your bud into his mouth. he teases with the tip of his tongue, making you twitch and yelp in his grip. you aren't used to this type of pleasure. it's new, and intensive. you love it.

his other hand keeps up the pace his tongue has set, rubbing slow circles on the sensitive buds. you struggle with breathing, and your hands are reaching out to grab anything; the counter, his shoulders, his hair, the counter again, and so on. your head falls back, and the feeling of pure bliss pools in your stomach. you feel like you could orgasm any moment, yet it never happens. wooyoung switches between each bud, treating them both equally. a particularly breathy moan leaves your mouth, making wooyoung hum. he is pleased with the way you're responding to him, so jumpy and whiny while he feasts on your body.

when he pulls away, you see a string of saliva connecting his lips with your breast. you moan at the sight, feeling adrenaline running through your veins and waiting to explode somewhere in your body. wooyoung drops down on his knees, fingers hooked in the elastic band of your shorts.

"if i don't get crushed between your thighs right now, i don't think i'll live to see another day."

even from that position, he is emitting insane dominant energy, and you are just a marionette in his hands.

"please."

you raise your hips just enough to help him pull the shorts down, along with the panties. you are thankful that they are the new ones you had discovered this morning since buying them a month ago. though, they were ruined with your arousal anyway and wooyoung probably couldn't care less. but instead of tossing them aside, he raises them in front of his eyes, admiring them.

"that's so fucking adorable."

they are plain pastel panties, with a small row of lace on the top of it. you figure he is used to strings and thongs, and how new a normal set of panties must seem to him. wooyoung folds the panties, and stuffs them in his pocket. too taken aback by his action, you do not have time to react when he places your legs over his shoulders.

"you don't have to cum. i just want to show you how good it can be."

you mean you want to leave me yearning for your touch as if i am not desperate enough?

"is that alright? can i lick you until you pass out?"

he knows exactly which words drive you insane. as if he was living in your head since you discovered the first young adult fantasy book. you nod, then breathe in. the sudden lighting outside makes you aware of where you are. you are about to have your cunt devoured by none other than the new barista everyone around you is crushing on, in one of the staff rooms. soft café music is heard in the distance now that the rain has calmed down, and it is only adding up to the rather odd, but once in a lifetime situation you are in.

a flat, wet muscle presses against your folds, softly licking up your arousal and stopping at your clit. you try to close your legs at the new feeling of pleasure, but wooyoung is quick to grab your thighs and keep them apart just enough so he can get you used to the feeling. your legs shake as the tip of his tongue massages the tip of your clit, pure pleasure taking over your body and completely shutting your brain off. you are a whining mess, shaking in his arms, pulling at his hair, and whatnot. his eyes never leave your face, memorizing every eyebrow scrunch, every eyeroll, every moan and every hand movement. he is entirely mesmerized by your existence. he has never seen anyone let their guard down like this and put themselves at his complete mercy.

he switches between techniques, not yet allowing you to work up your orgasm. he figures you like circles with the tip of his tongue best, they have you being more vocal and squirmy in his hold. wooyoung then snakes his hands under your bottom, gently lifting your lower body so that your head and shoulders lay comfortably on the wooden surface. your hips are in the air, and your legs hang off his shoulders. you are confused by the position he has you in, until he dives into your cunt once more. you moan, fingers reaching to pull at his soft hair. this time he doesn't separate your thighs, but instead presses his face further into your arousal and squishes your flesh against his cheeks, licking every drop you have to offer him.

"wooyoung-" you whine, hips subconsciously grinding against his face.

"good, good girl." he hums, lips closing around your bud and sucking on it.

you clench, body tensing up upon feeling the orgasm approaching.

"fuck- fuck-" you whine, hands gripping the shelves above your head.

wooyoung slows his movements to the max, carefully sliding his tongue up and down your clit, driving you insane with the orgasm delay. you want to cum so bad, but everything feels too much, you are sweating so bad, and the position you are in is making you more vulnerable and sensitive.

"please, please, please, pretty please" you beg, voice already betraying you and cracking at the end.

wooyoung groans against your cunt, then moves away. you gasp with surprise. all the pleasure leaves your body, and you are now laying on the surface again. you support yourself on your elbows, enough to look at him and ask just why he stopped.

"prettiest cunt i've ever seen in my life." he caresses your skin above it.

"why-" you breathe out, "- why did you stop? i was so, so close-"

"i had to, angel. i don't want you cumming in a pantry on an uncomfortable surface."

you watch him lick his lips, disbelief evident on your face. he chuckles, picking your shorts up from the floor.

"panties?"

"i'll get you new ones."

were the panties really that interesting to him? wooyoung reaches for something above your head, pressing his lips on your forehead before grabbing paper towels. you are sensitive to his touch, feeling overstimulated and irritated even though you didn't orgasm. he patiently wipes you, then pulls your shorts up, not forgetting to caress your thighs along the way.

"come here." he instructs.

you sit up, feet swinging from the counter. the man in front of you pulls you in for a kiss, this time a short one.

"you did very good. i hope you get your real orgasm somewhere comfy."

he hopes? was this a farewell? he had his little fun with you, and now he is no longer interested?

"come on, the weather is calmer now. i'll still drive you home though."

and just like that, he proceeds outside, leaving you with thoughts for a few moments. you feel a little humiliated, and very vulnerable and exposed. still, you follow him outside, and get into his car. it is a neat car, that you notice. it smells like an ocean breeze, and he has a camera above his steering wheel.

"not for porn," he interrupts your thoughs.

you have forgotten about that side of him. in the moment, it seemed like he was just a normal guy who hooked up with you because he thinks you are cute. in reality, he is probably bored of all those skilled partners and wants something new, so he used you as a little project. you feel hurt, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes as you look out the window. you haven't spared him a single glance, scared that he might be pitiful towards you. that's the last thing you need.

"right, then left?" he asks, steering the wheel with one hand.

"yeah."

it doesn't take long before the car stops in front of a familiar building. you don't see yunho's car, and just then remember that he is sick and resting at home. wooyoung has clouded your mind so much that you don't have any other thoughts, only ones about him.

"thank you for sharing the cupcakes with me." he winks, then unlocks the door.

you aren't ready to say goodbye just yet. if you leave the car, will everything be back the way it was? him acting like he doesn't know you, and vice versa? are you supposed to go in there and order your strawberry mocha from him like it doesn't associate you with today's event?

"wooyoung?"

"yes, angel?"

you play with your fingers in your lap, deciding which words would be the best to make him stay in your life just a little longer.

"can you teach me?"

"teach you?"

"yes. you are so experienced, and i am just a dumb virgin with a big imagination."

he stops to think. he bites the inside of his cheek, and you mimic him.

"i'd destroy you."

you clench around nothing, hearing his raspy voice say such words to you. you know he means them, you saw him mean them. but you are up for it. anything, just to get another taste of him.

"i don't mind."

he sighs, smile still dancing on his lips. "just what are you?"

since the day you had your first orgasm denial, you have heard from him only once, and only because you sent the message first.

i'm not seeing those panties again, right?

wooyoung: nope.

okay

okay? okay??? you could at least put some effort into flirting. you are only pushing him away, instead of inching towards another meeting, this one preferably ending with an orgasm. the notifications about his lives were now regulars on your phone screen, and though you never quite watched them, you like to think he does it for you. slight jealousy has appeared, and you have to stop it before it spreads. but after all, you are the one that has gained his attention.

you decide to visit yunho. he has been sick for quite some time, and has been rarely answering your messages. you have prepared him his favourite soup, and bought his favorite chocolate bar.

"yunnie, you're alive!"

you jump into his arms, forgetting that he might still be weak from being sick. but he catches you effortlessly, a fond smile on his lips as he keeps your body close to him.

"feeling better?"

"almost." he replies, gently setting you down on the floor. "how have you been?"

"bored, honestly. i miss gossiping with you and getting yelled at by other students. oh, turns out mark did cheat on jenna!"

"knew it."

yunho makes his way to the kitchen to grab you a drink and put away the food you brought him, and you can't help but notice how buff he has gotten since the last time you saw him. he was probably well built before too, but you've never seen that man in anything other than oversized t-shirts and hoodies. right now, he is wearing one of those compressive exercise sleeveless tops, every bump and curve visible on his toned body. you notice how big his arms are, and just how tall he is.

you feel familiar warmth between your legs, and you have to sit down to stop any funny business. he is speaking, but all you can do is stare at the way his hands are handling the drinks. his hands are much bigger in comparison to wooyoung, and his physique overall is making you melt right there on his couch.

"so? sound good?"

you look up, pupils dilated and cheeks warm and red. he is confused by your sudden change in expression, before he realizes that you weren't even listening. he sighs, giving up on the weekend trip proposal.

"what is it with you?" the man hands you a glass of apple juice, along with a granola bar he knows you love to steal from his cupboard.

"nothing, why?" you reply too quickly.

he laughs, mixed confusion and amusement. he sits next to you, leaving a little space in between. the way he drops his head back on the backrest and manspreads isn't helping your situation. wooyoung has opened a door that cannot be closed anymore.

fuck, wooyoung.

"you know, i thought i was gonna die. my headache was so bad i heard thumping inside it."

"does it hurt now?"

"not really, no. but i do think i still have a little fever. can you check?"

you lean over on your knees, fingers gently moving his hair out of the way. upon reaching over for the thermometer from the coffee table, you slip between the couch cushions, making yunho jolt and grab your waist. you have to close your eyes for a moment, sensory overload getting the worst of you. your clothes suddenly feel so tight and itchy, his breathing is loud and right there in your ears, and his hands are burning on your skin over the fabric of your top.

"watch it, little one," he says.

you know he means the nickname as a sign of fondness towards you, but in the situation where you're acting like an animal in heat, it is doing wonders to you. knowing that he is big, much bigger than you, and calling you that is making your stomach boil.

you want to make a move. no matter how wrong it would be. you want to lean in and kiss him, make him feel you up and down, make him touch you right here on the couch, where you cuddled and watched movies since knowing each other.

"why are you looking at me like that?" his voice is suddenly raspy.

"like what?" you whisper, afraid of your infamous cracking tone.

"like you want to fuck me."

not far from truth. not exactly fuck, rather just have a little fun to get some heat out of you. his hands never leave your waist, instead pulling your body into his lap. you've been in this position many times, mainly being tickled and begging for mercy. now? you're ready to beg for his tongue on you.

"i-"

a familiar ringtone interrupts you, and you feel him tense up underneath.

"pick it up." he says, lazily looking at you through half closed eyelids.

"uh, yes," you stutter, reaching towards the table to grab your phone.

you almost faint seeing the name on your screen. you don't want to pick up. not now. any other time, yes. but right now? not quite convenient.

"go on, answer it." yunho encourages, not knowing the consequences of his action.

but you do it anyway. what is there to lose? lose yunho, gain wooyoung. and vice versa. how fucking evil of you. acting like a bitch in heat, listening to your pussy instead of your morals.

"yes?" you answer, breath hitching when yunho starts caressing your sides.

"hi, angel."

yunho's touching stops. he is now focused on the male voice coming from your phone, the name of the contact not visible from your hair.

"let me see you tonight? i'll take you out for a ride and a dinner."

"tonight?"

"yes. unless you have plans? i just got my motorcycle back from the auto mechanic, thought i'd show you there's thrilling stuff other than an orgasm denial in a public space."

yunho removes his hands completely from you, but lets you sit on his lap. you witness his face morph from flirty to mixed anger and disappointment, though he is trying very hard to hide it. the red tips of his ears are a dead giveaway, and you wish you could feel guilty.

"i have no plans. the ride sounds nice."

"good girl. i'll pick you up same place i dropped you off the other day, six o'clock?"

"sound good."

"good. i'll see you in around two hours then?"

"yes."

"chatty as usual, i see. i'll get you to talk tonight, no worries."

and with that, he hangs up. it is only then that yunho sits you on the couch next to him, while he stands up. you are numb to his reaction, excitement boiling in your veins in anticipation for tonight.

"do you enjoy hurting me?"

he shoots the first arrow through your heart.

"do you love seeing me suffer? do you enjoy bringing me to tears almost every time we meet?"

you have just uncovered something that has been cooking for a long time, and you know you are at fault. you just fail to feel wrong for it.

"it was fine at the beginning, you showed no signs of interest whatsoever. but now? the last month or two? you are driving me fucking insane."

when yunho starts swearing, you now it is bad.

"and to think that i'd actually have a chance. that you'd open yourself up for me so i can prove to you how well i can treat you. i deserve a global idiot award."

you don't speak. you let him rant, knowing that he would only get worked up more if you spoke. none of the things you had to say were comforting, so being silent was the better option.

"get the fuck out of my house."

it is the first time you see him so angry and aggressive. with full right. so you silently take your belongings, turning your back on him without a proper goodbye.

"and take this with you. i don't need anything from you." he shoves the box you had brought him into your hands.

he looks at you, teary eyed, fighting hard to keep them from spilling. you've never seen yunho cry. ever. of joy? yes. but almost shaking while holding back tears and biting his lips to keep them from quivering? perhaps it's just anger and frustration. either way, you fucked him up. and there's nothing you can do, other than leave him be.

"i hate you."

six o'clock rolls around quite quickly. you stand in front of a motorcycle, quite bigger than you imagined. wooyoung takes his helmet off, then steps off the motorcycle. he examines you, from head to toe, a little puzzled.

"skirt? odd choice, considering that i told you we were using a motorcycle."

wooyoung then pushes your hair back, removing it from your face and letting it fall on your back. he puts the helmet on you, a slight smile on his lips as he secures it.

"you're so fucking cute it hurts. look at you in your skirt and ballerinas."

your cheeks burn from his compliments, your thighs rubbing under the delicate material. wooyoung plays with the ends of the skirt, then slips his hands on your bare skin.

"want to sit at front?" he purrs, gaze gentle and lips turned into a fond smile.

"i actually never... well, this is my first time seeing it up so close."

"so i'm your first motorcycle too? i feel honoured."

"I don't really know how to... you know, anything."

whenever you're around him, your vocabulary becomes very limited and poor. for someone who reads so much, you're struggling quite good with putting together simple sentences.

"your only job is to sit still and be pretty for me. got it?" he cups your face with one hand and gently caresses your jaw with his thumb.

you nod, not trusting yourself with speaking while he touches you in such ways.

"come on now. hop on."

you are sat in front of him, hands trapped under his while gripping the handles. you are stiff, and even if he notices, he doesn't react. he starts off slow, enough to not scare you off immediately. at one point, right at the last traffic light before exiting the city centre, he speeds up, the front of the motorcycle hanging in the air for a split second, but enough to make you gasp and fall back against his chest. you hear him chuckle near your helmet, his hand coming to rest on your hip enough to comfort you.

"i got you," he says, squeezing your hip.

you now lay comfortably against him, enjoying the smooth ride on the highway. you are alone on the road, the opposite direction crowded due to people returning home from work. you haven't felt such thrill ever. the way wooyoung controls the vehicle and smoothly changes lanes, to the way he speeds up and does the wheelie again, this time a little higher, is making you see stars. you scream, but the playful way. adrenaline rushes through your veins, and you are laughing, having the most fun of your life. he isn't saying much, and even if he was, you don't hear him. you feel comfortable in his embrace, trusting him with your life on this silent road lit by neon lights on the fences.

you gasp when you feel his cold fingers on your thigh, the texture odd. you look down, only to see that his other hand has a leather glove on, and is slowly dipping between your legs. he slows down, enough to pay more attention to you without any danger nearby. the cold leather touches your folds near your panties that have slightly moved from the reckless driving. he realises the advantage, and proceeds to rip apart the fabric. you moan at the action, remembering all those worn out pages of your books describing men ripping women's bras and panties. and now, you're a character in that page, hopefully about to have an orgasm of your lifetime.

the cold leather touches you once again, a single finger toying with your soft bud, just enough to have you panting. your head falls on his shoulder, searching for support. he circles your clit, playing with the soft flesh and checking just how wet you are getting.

"want me to stop?" he asks, and when you shake your head, he dips his fingers below your clit.

you flinch at the unfamiliar feeling, not feeling the pleasure anymore. he notices, but tries to enter once again, this time more gentle and slow. you flinch again, your head no longer resting on his shoulder. he removes his hand, gripping the handle again as he slows the vehicle. he stops at the nearby platform, the neon fence lights shining on the stone table and two benches. he gets off the motorcycle, then helps you off too. your ripped panties hit the floor, your folds caressed by the highway breeze. he takes his helmet off, hanging it on one of the handles, then helps you with yours.

you are suddenly hyperaware of the situation you are in. far from the city and people, alone in the dark with still a complete stranger, with nothing but a top and a skirt on. nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. nobody to call.

"shit, hey." wooyoung cups your face, seeing sudden anxiety on it. "do you want me to drive you back?"

you take a moment to think. if he really meant evil, wouldn't he do something by now? he wouldn't comfort you, right? wouldn't offer you a ride back? or is this just a little foreplay for him before he does something to you and leaves you to rot here?

"i mean it," the man caresses your cheeks with his thumbs.

"no, i'm good. i think."

"i am not doing anything until i am sure of it."

"no, no, i really am. i just..." you trail, looking around, "...i am very new to all of this, that's all."

wooyoung takes both of your hands, guiding you towards the stone benches and table. he sits you on the table, and he sits on the bench in front of you. he doesn't break eye-contact with you as he rubs your thighs, slightly squishing the flesh for your comfort and for his pleasure. he doesn't go further though. he gives you time to relax, until your feet start slightly swinging off the table from boredom.

"tell me about yourself."

"like what?"

"anything. just talk. i want to hear you speak. you don't do much of it, and you have such a pretty voice, especially when you make those little moans."

your cheeks are burning, and you can only look down at your hands playing with the hem of your skirt.

"come on, tell me. what do you do except studying and riding pillows these days?"

you want to say that you don't ride pillows, but the playful smile on his lips is too sweet to ruin it.

"i read, like, a lot."

"what genre is your favorite?" the man's voice is now low and raspy, his hands now slowly sliding underneath your knees.

"take a wild guess?"

"erotica?" he laughs.

you laugh with him, not yet aware of his little plan and the reason he brought you to a place far from people.

"well, tell me. what did you learn from it?"

it's like a switch was found on you. wooyoung is taking in every word you are so excitedly giving him, every expression you make as you remember various paragraphs that had you touching yourself late at night, or sometimes in the middle of the day at most random places.

"no way, you touched yourself in your college bathroom?" he is in disbelief.

"believe it or not, it becomes stronger than me. so, yes. multiple times, actually."

"what exactly did you do?" wooyoung asks, genuinely interested.

you have passed the shame barrier. the way he is caressing your skin and so comfortably talking to you about these things have you finally dropping your walls down. not even your friends have made it this far into the conversation without a smart remark or a grimace.

"just, rubbing myself, i guess? ah, i once used a water bottle to do it. it was so hot that day, and my bottle was wet and cold, and my brain just clicked."

wooyoung seems impressed, nodding his head with approval.

"i might have touched myself a little in the last row of the classroom."

"oh?" he is intrigued, mind already picturing you hidden in the last row behind your studying laptop, faking the writing while your other hand played with his new favorite thing in the world. "like this?"

the sudden contact with your clit makes you jolt, a gasp escaping your lips. he spins it in slow circles, much like you in that boring class. you breathe slowly, mouth already running dry from the sight in front of you. wooyoung stares deep into your eyes, tongue wetting his lips, and his hair messy from the highway wind. he looks incredibly good in his leather jacket and the chain necklace. you can hear yourself becoming wet, noises making both of you breathe shallow and feeding your lust drive. you feel exposed under the neon lights, under wooyoung's stare, on the side of the road. yet the pleasure is overpowering everything, and you find yourself shamelessly grinding your hips against his thumb. his confidence is affecting yours, and seeing him not give a single fuck about the location or the passerbies, it is unleashing something inside of you.

"fuck, angel, even your cunt sounds so cute."

you give yourself a moment of bravery, fingers hooking under his chain necklace and pulling his body towards you. your lips touch his, warm plush making your thighs clench. he chuckles against you, then leaves a few pecks on your bottom lip. he tugs it between his teeth, gently biting it and swiping his tongue on it. you give yourself to him, completely at his control, and only follow what he does.

he removes his hand from you, resulting in a whine leaving your mouth. he laughs again, pulling away for a moment.

"patience, baby. you're doing very good."

he kisses you again, his hands snaking around your waist and under your top. he feels your skin, the lace of your bra, plays with the hook, but doesn't undo it yet. he grazes your spine with his trimmed nails, giving you goosebumps. you shiver in his hands, wanting nothing more but to relax in his hands and have him do that to you all night long.

his tongue is restless against yours, gently rubbing against it, teeth accidentally clashing from the passion getting the most out of him. he wants all of you, right here, right now. but he can't have you just yet. like he said, he would destroy you. he can't hold back that much. he almost melts when he feels your fingers gently tug at his hair, your other hand subconsciously resting on his chest. he thinks it's cute how you are at a position above him and higher than him, yet he still has all the control over you. he also thinks it's cute how your legs are still swinging from the stone table, while you kiss him back and try to keep up with him. your kisses are short, your tongue soft, and your hair is tickling his cheeks, a complete opposite of his deep and long kisses, with an occasional teasing bite.

"wooyoung," you mumble, pulling away.

he hums, waiting for you to respond. you rest your forehead against his, taking a moment to breathe normally again.

"i want to cum on your tongue, please?" you ask so sweetly, big eyes staring into his.

"i had something else in mind, though. but i'll see what i can do, since you asked me so nicely."

he isn't sure how he can feel so soft and so hard for someone. you are the first one that is actually taking his time with him and listening to him to make it all more enjoyable. the rest of them wanted it quick, and frequent. he prefers it this way now, with more lust building up, and he knows the result will pay off. maybe you are growing impatient, maybe you'd just smack him right there on the spot, but he is very fixed on his idea, and he loves that you are listening him so patiently.

"lay down for me."

you lay on the cold surface, elbows digging into the uneven stone while they support your upper body so you can look at him. your breath hitches when his hand slides up your body, between your breasts, and up to your lips.

"open up."

and you do, taking his two fingers into your mouth. you swirl your tongue around them, slow, maintaining eye-contact with him. you are pretty sure you're dripping all over the table now, if not all over his pants too. he toys with your tongue for a while, too immersed in the way you're licking him up.

fuck, how good you'd take his cock. he'd push so slow between your glossy lips, which he would coat with his precum, and he would gently test your limits and have you gagging around him. wooyoung stops the train of thoughts before it was too late, and pulls his fingers out of your mouth. he then runs them up and down your slit, toying with the folds more than the clit. you want to groan from frustration, but you have to be patient, just like he said.

he spreads your folds, tongue diving right into the tip of your clit. your fingers reach into his hair, pulling at the dark strands and burying his head deeper into your cunt. he is loving every bit of it, willingly pushing himself deeper between your thighs and squishing them around his head. you hear him suck and lick, setting your heart on fire, and making your blood boil.

"wooyoung-" you gasp, clit abused by his restless muscle.

he only hums against you, lips sucking you slowly but with power. you don't know how loud you are, nor do you care. you let your voice loose, calling out his name, whining, bucking your hips into his mouth, moaning and chasing the orgasm that has already started to pool at the bottom of your stomach.

his fingers let go of your folds, instead focusing on a new place. he toys with your entrance, sending weird sensations through your body. ever so slowly, he pushes one finger inside, making you hold your breath at the uncomfortable feeling.

"that hurts-" you whine, all the pleasure gone.

"you can take it, right? for me?"

you look down at his eyes, the neon lights shining inside them.

"watch," he mumbles, nodding his head towards your drenched pussy.

you do as told, watching as his finger disappears into you, each pump a little less uncomfortable. he curls his finger upwards, unlocking a whole new sensation for you. you moan, more at the sight than the feeling. something about his veiny hand working on you and disappearing so smoothly inside of you is more arousing to you than a whole movie sex scene.

"i'm adding another one, alright?"

you gulp, then nod. you watch him carefully insert two fingers, slowly stretching you out. inch by inch, he fully inserts them, all the way to the knuckles, and stays there for a while.

"atta girl." he says, tone low and raspy, dripping with desire.

"it's too much," you whine, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes.

"just a little more, angel. i promise, it'll feel good." he coos, cupping your jaw with his other hand and caressing your cheek. "can you do that for me?"

you nod, fighting hard to push the tears back. the last thing you want is to turn out a coward, after all those erotica books you've told him about. reading about all that monster porn, fairy porn, and whatnot, yet you can't take two human fingers. pathetic.

"look at you, taking me so well." he praises, moving his fingers at a faster pace now.

you feel your hole stretching for the first time, and you are not sure if the sensation you are feeling is enough to make you cum. you stay still, watching him work on you, and focusing on relaxing your muscles around him. he curls his fingers up again, and another moan escapes your lips. he leans in, just enough to feel you breathe into his mouth. proper moans finally leave your mouth, and you leave all the gasps and shallow breathing behind. you shamelessly moan into his mouth, hands gripping anything they can; from his clothes and chain, to his hair and shoulders. you rock your hips along with his pumps, finally finding a path towards the sweet release. but wooyoung shows no intention of speeding up, even though you tried taking the matter into your own hands. you feel like spilling over any moment now, but the way he switches between slow and slower is driving you crazy.

"shit," he curses, suddenly pulling your body into his lap.

you moan when you sit on his fingers, knuckles trapped deep in your hole. you don't have time to process what is happening, a bright light shining into wooyoung's eyes and your back.

another motorcycle stops beside his, two people your age getting off of it.

"hey, what's up?" the stranger greets, politely waving.

the girl doesn't spare you a glance, but instead opts to stare at wooyoung.

"we're just gonna take a five minute break, sorry to bother you guys." the young man explains.

"that's fine," wooyoung smiles back.

the stranger then leaves behind one of the trees, and the girl takes a seat on the opposite of you two.

"aren't you, like, jung wooyoung?" her voice is pure torture, squeaky and fake.

"uh, yes."

"you have an enormous dick, babe. fuck, i masturbate to you almost every night."

your heart clenches, but apparently, so does your pussy, because wooyoung is quick to give you another stretch of his fingers inside you. you bite your lip, head falling on his shoulder. your back is turned towards the girl, so you cannot see if she is doing anything to get wooyoung's attention away from you. you don't like it.

"glad you enjoy my content," he replies calmly, as if he gets that every day.

maybe he does. and just then, you remember what wooyoung is. he is a cam boy, a porn star. he isn't a guy who took you on a date outside of the city. he is just someone who got tired of fucking experienced people and wants to try something new. you bite the inside of your cheek, tears gathering in your eyes now for a whole different reason.

it's his fault that he's so nice to you. didn't he say he would destroy you? you have developed a crush on him, and you didn't even realize. you need to back off, as soon as possible, before you become one of his toys for views. and with his sweet talk, it could happen without you even processing it first.

"do you do those live fuck invites anymore? i'd love to be your guest sometimes. maybe you know me, i was at top five performers last month?"

"ah, rosiedesires?" he is quick to answer.

his fingers slowly move, and you have to bury your head into his neck to keep yourself from making any noise. he smells heavenly, the scent of musk making you a little dizzy. you don't realize you are panting and whining, until he leans down to your ear.

"be good." he whispers with a little stern tone, nuzzling his nose into your cheek and leaving a quick peck there. if his fingers weren't up your pussy right now, you would've felt butterflies.

you don't know if he is mad at you, or if it's just a part of his play. either way, as bad as you are feeling, you don't want him to stop. you want him to make you cum, so that you can leave and cut all communication with him. you'll manage on your own without him, and there's still yunho. well, was. but knowing his feelings for you, he'll be quick to make up with you.

"friday night sound good?"

"yes, of course. perfect! can't wait, our followers are gonna be so excited."

did he just make a dick appointment while his fingers are deep inside of you? while you are holding back tears on his shoulder? while you are almost biting off the inside of your cheek?

"but wait, i don't do taken people. is that your partner or something?"

"ah no, that's just my coworker. he drives me home every night, we live in the same building. and uh, that..." she trails, probably pointing at you, "...is not your girlfriend?"

"no, no, of course not. she's also someone i've met on the site."

someone i've met on the site.

of course, what else did you think? that he was also falling in love with you? how stupid. now you know how yunho felt. you know exactly how he felt, when you made him feel dumb for having a one sided love. though, this isn't love yet, but still.

"shy, i see. hello, do you speak?"

the way she is talking to you is making you feel humiliated and small. as if you're an alien, asking if you speak.

"whore." you mumble.

"what?" she asks, confusion evident in her voice.

you finally raise your head, cheeks puffed and eyes red. wooyoung finally sees how bad he fucked up, and his heart breaks a little at the sight.

maybe it was just the sexual frustration. maybe it was the anger. maybe the disappointment. or maybe just the way she chewed that gum and looked at you like you were a piece of shit on the side of the road. whatever it was, it gave you enough of confidence to repeat yourself.

"whore."

"you stupid bitch," she scoffs, and you almost laugh when you see red lipstick smeared on her teeth as she calls you more names.

"openly talking about fucking a random guy and then getting offended by a single word? fucking weirdo." the words are quicker than your mind, and you feel wooyoung's fingers leaving you and instead gripping your waist.

"listen here, you fucking prude, i will fuck you up-"

"alright, let's take you home." wooyoung interrupts. "rosie, i'll reach out to you these days."

"sure thing, baby."

not so gentle anymore, wooyoung hands you the helmet. the change in his behaviour in front of a different woman is baffling to you. you feel like throwing up, and dropping right there in the middle of the road. anger is building up inside of you, enough for you to push the helmet back into his hands.

"put that on." he orders, brows knitted.

"no." you spit out.

"i will not repeat myself." his tone lowers, yet his gaze darkens.

"you don't have to." you strike back, not aware of the consequences building up.

"do you want to fucking hurt yourself? put this on right now, before i put it on for you."

fear creeps into your body, slow, and grows more with each second that passes and his gaze stays on you. you gulp, suddenly finding yourself in a mental conflict. you do not want to go with him. you want to stay here, curl up under the table and cry until morning, and mourn that little hope you had left and that he crushed. yet he is your only way home. but it is such a long drive, and you don't have the energy to be near him.

so you turn your back, and start walking towards the city lights.

"and just what do you think you are doing?" wooyoung grabs your elbow, pulling your body against his.

"leave me be."

"i asked, what do you think you are doing?" he asks again, gaze not softening.

"i am going home."

"you're-"

"jung wooyoung," you say through gritted teeth," i. am. going. home."

and with that, you start your way to the distant skyscrapers. it hurts you that only two minutes after, two motorcycles pass by you, one of them very familiar. he only spares you a glance through the mirror, then speeds up and disappears.

finally, you cry. loud sobs, chest heavy and body shaking. you drag your legs for what seems like hours, yet the buildings remained the same. you pull out your phone, searching through contacts. nobody is close enough with you for you to call them and pick you up. except your only fast dial, yunho.

what is there to lose? you've reached the bottom anyways.

it takes only two rings for him to pick up, and you fail to greet him. instead, a sob leaves your mouth.

"tiny?" he calls, voice concerned.

"can you please come get me?"

to say that yunho was furious would be an understatement. you haven't told him anything yet, but it was enough to find you sitting alone on a bench outside of the city, on a road where prostitutes and dealers often met, with ripped panties laying on the floor.

his heart is tight, and he feels his throat closing as he approaches you. dark lines decorate your puffed cheeks, the makeup you always so happily put on now a fluid disaster. you run into yunho's arms, finally warm and secure. he buries his noise into your hair, leaving kisses on top of your head as he rubs your back. he knows what to do when you're upset, and you are grateful for that. you need silent support, no questions, no getting you to talk, just someone's presence and comfort. you finally look into his eyes, and just when you thought you cried it all out, you start sobbing again.

"it's okay." he assures you, cupping your face.

"can i stay-" you hiccup, your lungs having a hard time to balance breathing and speaking, "can i-"

you sob again, frustrated because you can't form a sentence. you feel like ripping your hair out because of your stupidity.

"you can stay at my place," yunho understands, gently guiding you towards his car and opening the back door for you.

"no, no-"

"there's more space for you to lay down. trust me, you'll be comfortable."

"i want the front."

"but-"

"please."

yunho doesn't immediately drive to his place. he drives past the highway exits for the city, and you are too tired to question it. you fight to stay awake, but the burning sensation of your eyes is making it quite difficult. every now and then, yunho glances at you, making sure you're alright and comfortable. you have your seat pushed back, and your body turned towards him. it makes you feel safer when you open your eyes and see him in front of you.

the lights are fading, allowing the moonlight to take over and illuminate yunho's face. has he always been this pretty?

you're skipping classes, opting to stay in yunho's bed instead. you're rotting in his room, only watching him come and go. he has a job, and classes to attend, and by the time he finally gets home, you are fast asleep. the food he so carefully prepares you stays cold on the counter, flies getting to it before you do. it is making him sad, seeing you in such a state. you didn't speak of that night, and he didn't want to ask in case you go further into your shell.

today was no different. you are awoken by his alarm, then him tossing and turning on his side. he is careful to leave a distance between you two, even when he is asleep. you feel the warmth leave the space behind your back, then hear footsteps. you hear shuffling, and you open your eyes to see what he is wearing today.

he wears a plain white t-shirt, black ripped jeans, and a leather jacket. the weather is still confusing, and you are glad you don't have to tell him to bring a jacket with him. he also wears his signature boots, sitting on your side of the bed as he puts them on.

"yuyu?" you call.

"yes, sweetheart?"

"when are you coming home today?"

he stays silent. you think he doesn't hear you, so you repeat. yunho sighs.

"i don't have classes today. and i have a day off."

"oh," is all you can say. you aren't sure if it's a sound of disappointment or surprise. either way, you are not thrilled.

"i'll be back in a few hours."

he doesn't look at you. instead, he stands up, picking up his bag and house keys. you finally sit up straight, blanket still wrapped around you.

"where-" you clear your throat, voice coming out raspy and cracking, "-where are you going?"

"a date."

yunho finally spares you a glance, one enough to let you know that he grew tired of you playing with his emotions, and is tired catering to you when all of his efforts have gone to waste.

"there's food in the fridge if you get hungry. i'm having breakfast outside."

then there you are, again in the dark room, alone with your thoughts. you think about both of them. yunho, who has been by your side for so long, and has respected your boundaries despite his strong feelings. and wooyoung, who is there just a few weeks, yet has such a strong impact on you. you feel discarded by both sides. yunho? justified. wooyoung? not as much.

yes, he is just a porn star. yes, you may be delusional. and yes, he might fuck other people. but the urge in you to feel him just one more time, to let him teach you so you can be good enough for someone you truly care about, is burning inside of you.

bullshit. you want to be good enough for him. you have always been way more intrigued by things you cannot have. wooyoung is an unattainable goal, something you can only dream of having. then again, what do you actually want with him? you only know him sexually, you know nothing about him as a person. you only crave him physically, while you crave yunho emotionally.

but you can't have both, and the way the tables have turned, you are left with neither.

the day is slow, and the sun is going down with the tiktoks on your phone screen. when you feel your stomach tighten and growl, you finally glance at the room around you. it is dark, it smells like old clothes, and the lack of fresh air starts suffocating you. yunho's washed, unironed work clothes sit on his gaming chair, waiting to be ironed by him. it would have been done long time ago, if you didn't take up his whole room.

you switch between the apps, from tiktoks to reels, to youtube shorts, then back to reels. you've seen every video possible, not a single one funny anymore. you feel numb. your stomach is giving you signals, which you so successfully ignore. much like your bladder. it is hitting your ovaries, causing indescribable pain, yet you choose to lay there and mourn over your will to live. you return to the instagram homepage, and when you see yunho's icon in the stories, you just have to click it. when you do, you see him posing with a young woman your age, at the breakfast place you used to visit the first year of college. he has ordered his usual, you notice. and she has ordered yours.

he looks genuinely happy, his smile wide, and his eyes squinted. his arm is wrapped around her shoulders, and the other one holds the phone taking the picture. she is busy holding his face in her hand, lightly squishing his cheeks, just like you like to do.

"fuck me." you groan, then shut your phone off.

as if a switch has clicked inside of you, you run to the bathroom, eager to end your suffering. it takes you less than half an hour to take a shower, put on clean clothes, and do the basic skin care you have ignored for a few days now. you use yunho's expensive products, of course. he won't mind as long as he doesn't know you used them.

by the time the sun sets, the room looks brand new. you have put on new sheets, dusted the shelves, vacuumed the floor, and even ironed his clothes and neatly put them in the closet. the messy notes on his desk were now waiting for him in the drawer, with an attached pink note from you of the solution to the math problem he has been trying to solve on four pages now.

in the kitchen, you fish for ingredients. you decide to make his favorite for when he comes home, to at least thank him somehow for giving you comfort and support these days.

what time do you think you are coming?

yunho: around half an hour to an hour, i think. why?

i am making dinner, i didn't want to start early so it doesn't get cold.

you see the three dots on his screen popping up a few times, then disappearing. you set the phone aside, focusing on the garlic and onion in the pan so they don't get burnt. he loves your pasta bolognese, and won't eat it anywhere but from you. special flavor, he says. you don't have the heart to tell him that you just add in one more spice that the restaurants don't. you don't want to break the little tradition of you making pasta late at night for the two of you.

your phone pings, twice.

wooyoung has started a live! tap to watch.

yunho: i'm not coming for dinner. sorry x

and it's all it takes. really, that's all.

it takes less than five minutes for you to shut off the stove, then settle in the freshly made bed, yunho's boxers already pooling at your ankles. you realize how pathetic you look, getting ready to touch yourself to a guy that left you on the side of the road, in your best friend's bed. but to be fair, you were stubborn too. maybe you just didn't expect him to let you go so easily. maybe you expected him to stay back and comfort you, say sorry because of his harsh actions. or at least reach out to you afterwards. but no, jung wooyoung kept his distance. you checked the messages, regularly. not even an online tag from him. nothing.

until now.

wooyoung has started a live with rosiedairies! tap to watch.

your stomach tightens. is it friday already? time for that dick appointment. your finger hovers over the notificaton, mind working hard to figure out whether or not you can handle looking at something like that. you convince yourself that you can. it's just sex. it's not like you've never seen it before.

your finger taps the notification, and your screen take up two naked bodies, already going at it. it isn't hot at all. you could swear that all your arousal has dried up within two seconds.

wooyoung has the camera showing her face as she stays in doggy position and only his lower body is visible behind her, hips snapping harshly into hers. it doesn't look real. it look so staged and fake, ugly and raw. but she seems to love it, judging by the way her eyes roll to the back of her head and the noises overpowering the ones of skin clapping. wooyoung pulls her hair, and even though you've fantasized about that too, it isn't quite like this. all that hair pulling in your fanfics and books was indeed harsh, but still with a note of passion and love. this? this was pure pain.

"harder, harder-" she chokes, seductively looking at the camera.

what she asks, wooyoung delivers. the grip on her waist makes her skin white, likely to leave bruises afterwards. he picks up the camera, angling it on her bottom and his pelvis. the sight isn't a turn on for you, but you notice the condom, the bruises on her skin, and the scratch marks on his body. the people in the comment section are going feral, giving him orders on what to do to her, on what they'd like to do to him, and sending lots of money. you're grossed out, and just when you are about to exit the site, you hear the front door shut.

you pull the boxers up, jumping out of the bed and making it. you lock your phone, throwing it on the nightstand, before rushing to the bathroom and shutting the door. you hear footsteps, and not double ones like you expected. you fix your hair in the mirror, trying for that i woke up like this look.

"it's me," he announces while entering the room.

"back already?"

"wow."

you fail to hide the smile because of his reaction. he was probably expecting to find you laying under a blanket with your phone on full volume, like he did for the past few days. you didn't even take care of yourself, let alone help him with chores. you wanted to redeem yourself, at least a little bit.

you exit the bathroom as nonchalantly as you can, as if you didn't just do a 180° in the time he was out. he looks even more dashing than when he left. his hair is messy and skin glowing, and his lips have that red tint that suits him so well.

"how was your date?"

"it was great," he avoids your gaze while scratching his neck, "we're going on a second one sunday evening. making it fancy this time."

"that's so awesome! i'm happy for you."

your acting is so convincing, it has yunho feeling disappointed with your behaviour. sure, you wouldn't be jealous. but wouldn't you be bothered at least a little bit? a random girl entering your lives and taking up his free time instead of you, and you are happy?

"what do you say we go out for breakfast tomorrow, and i'll tell you everything?" he tests the grounds.

"sounds wonderful." you don't drop your guard.

you forget that yunho doesn't know the actual situation with wooyoung. so when he stops in front of the coffee shop the next morning and holds the door open for you, you rather enter than make a fuss out of it. you slide into your usual seat, letting yunho take the orders. the familiar man exits the pantry, smile dropping when he sees his next costumer. he immediately searches for your figure in the seating area, and upon finding you, he fails to hide a smile. you, on the other hand, don't. you stand your ground, poker face on and emotions on standby. for now.

"iced americano and a strawberry mocha?"

"yes," yunho confirms, "extra-"

"extra syrup, whipped cream, pearls. got it."

yunho looks annoyed, but doesn't say anything. he almost throws the money at wooyoung, tells him to keep the change, then joins you at the table.

you finally take a good look at him. each day, he is getting more attractive in your eyes. did he always dress this handsomely? was he always this tall?

"you like my coat?" he laughs, noticing your stare.

"well, yes. suits you. the turtleneck too. when did you get a fashion sense?"

"i've got to attract the ladies somehow." yunho jokes, then becomes serious once he sees wooyoung approaching with the beverages.

the cup is placed in front of you, and right away, you see a difference. knowing that you'll let it slide, yunho decides to speak for you.

"pearl sprinkles. not this rainbow puke."

"i only have rainbow puke." wooyoung scoffs, throwing the paper straws on the table. "drink it, or don't. i don't care."

"you should've told me that when i ordered." yunho keeps pushing, and the tension between the two is making you squirm in the chair.

"well guess what?" wooyoung leans in, one hand on the table, the other on the back of your chair. his face is inches away from yours, eyes fixed on your widened ones.

"get away from her, that's highly unprofessional."

"if she minded, she would've said something," the barista looks over at yunho for a split second, then returns his gaze on you, "but she doesn't mind, do you, darling?"

stuck between not wanting to hurt yunho, and wanting to subconsciously submit to wooyoung, you remain silent. wooyoung stays in the position for what seemed like hours, even though it was mere three seconds of it, then finally takes his position behind the counter.

"right, forgot he's your new boyfriend," the man on your opposite scoffs and takes a sip of his beverage.

"he's not-"

"kiyomi will be here any minute, by the way. can't wait for you to meet her."

"woah, is she okay with meeting me so soon? i mean, your first date was yesterday?"

he shrugs, glancing at his phone, "i don't see why not. you're just a friend. it's not like you're a relative or someone closer."

ouch.

"right," you clear your throat.

as promised, she arrives, breaking the silence and interrupting yunho's twitter scrolling. she's pretty, just like on the picture. the moment she sits next to him and starts talking, you see she is obsessed with him. she is joyful, talkative, optimistic, everything that you currently aren't. you notice wooyoung looking over multiple times, but what you don't notice is the way yunho is examining your face, looking for any clues of jealousy or discomfort.

you seem unaffected, and it makes his heart ache. just what does he have to do to get to you? getting a girl just to experiment didn't work, and now he has to either let the poor girl go or keep fueling her hopes and leave her later, until he gets a reaction from you. yumho hates himself for doing that. but yunho hates you too, as much as he loves you. you break his heart every day, but every time you look at him, you put it back together so easily. he wants to kiss you, as much as he wants to push you away from himself. he is lost in his own emotions, and doesn't know what he wants anymore.

"excuse me, i'll be right back."

"where are you going?" yunho betrays himself, asking you too quickly.

"toilet. wanna come?" you try to lighten the situation with a joke, seeing his date tense up at his reaction.

"ah no, thanks. gross. you go enjoy yourself. don't fall in." he joins in the joke, also taking notice of his partner's body language.

you enter the toilet, ignoring the cash register where wooyoung has busied himself with typing something on the screen. the you in the mirror looks like she is mocking you, your clothes and your behaviour. you've put on the newest dress you had, and you don't even know for who. both of them? you like yunho's soft lingering gaze on you, yet you enjoy the way wooyoung looks a second away from devouring you on that table. it's a simple long sleeved dress, really, paired with knee-high boots yunho had bought you for christmas.

the door swings open, bumping into you and pushing you against the wall. you only catch a glimpse of the familiar apron, before the man cups your face and presses his lips on yours. you are taken aback, body frozen against the cold tiles. wooyoung holds your face gently, lips moving slow as to not scare you off more.

"i'm sorry, i'm so fucking sorry," he whispers against your lips, pecking them a few times before apologizing again.

"wooyoung-"

"please, let me make it up to you. i don't care what that cunt outside says, i don't believe him anyway, just let me make it up to you."

you're having a hard time thinking rationally. do you really trust him enough to not hurt you again? fuck, but his lips feel so good. but oh, how yunho's hugs feel like home.

but nobody has ever shown desire the way wooyoung does.

yet nobody has more patience for you than yunho.

"you're thinking too much. let me fix that."

your lips are trapped by his once again, this time more rhythmic. you give into the touch, erasing the man outside completely from your mind.

"you're so sweet."

you hum against his lips, hands tugging at his white ironed shirt, the first two buttons separated as always.

"so cute." kiss. "so pretty." kiss. "so adorable." kiss. "so perfect."

you're not sure where it is going, but you do not complain. you do not complain when he lifts you on the counter near the sink either, flipping your dress up and ripping your panties again. you feel your core tighten, and you think you'll just never get enough of the picture of him ripping your clothes apart.

"let me make you melt on my tongue. please, god, I need it. i so desperately need you, all of you."

"here?" you ask, glancing at the door.

"here, out there, in the pantry, at your place, my place, everywhere. i'd take you to the roof if you told me to."

"anyone could walk in-"

you gasp mid sentence, cold metal pressing against your clit. wooyoung intentionally rubs your folds with his knuckles, giving you the cold sensation of his rings. your head rests against the mirror, hips already grinding into his hand.

loosing his patience, wooyoung sinks to his knees, your legs resting over his shoulders. he dives in, like it's his last meal. he licks hot stripes up your clit, pointy part of his tongue flicking the tip of it. you moan each time he does so, feeling your bud already becoming abused.

while he usually takes his time with you, today he is quick to separate your legs and go feral on you. his tongue is quick, so quick that it has you shaking uncontrollably against his mouth. you're shuddering, begging, pulling at his hair, all at once. a blabbering mess, as he eats you like there's no tomorrow. he dips his tongue into your arousal, letting out a moan of satisfaction.

"can i please cum?" you ask, knowing that he never lets you. why would today be different?

"no, no. not yet." he moves away, standing up and getting back to your face. "it needs to be special."

"it's just an orgasm, how special can it be?"

"mine always are, believe me. i want to be your first real one. i want you to remember it." wooyoung says as he continues to caress your cheeks with his thumbs.

the action is affectionate, as if he just confessed to having a crush on you and didn't just eat you out. funny how every time you meet him, you end up getting absolutely devoured by him in ways that you didn't even read about. he is passionate about it, to the point that it makes you think that he does it for his own pleasure.

"come over to my place."

"what?" your voice comes out louder than you wanted it.

"my place. i'll take good care of you. give you what you deserve."

you don't have time to reply, he is pulling you off the sink and disappearing into a stall. a quick glance in the mirror is enough to make your hands shoot up to your hair, straightening it and fixing the smeared mascara on the corner of your eyes.

"hey?"

yunho's head peeks inside, scanning the room. he sees you alone, and immediately feels at ease.

"yes, yunho?"

"i just got worried, you've been here for a while." he admits.

"so you left your date alone?" you can't bear to look him in the eyes, not when you just finished messing with the person he saved you from the other night.

"to be truthful, i saw that shitass barista disappear somewhere, and i thought he came after you. i'd hate to think that something happened to you and i was sitting just outside."

you appreciate his truthfulness, and don't have the heart to tell him just how weak to your instincts you are.

"don't worry, i'm good. let's go."

wooyoung: it's been almost a week

wooyoung: you don't think about me at all?

wooyoung: my offer, i mean. not me.

you don't know if you're being delusional, but you feel like the tables have turned. which is why you have reached out to another friend, one that doesn't have feelings for you and won't try to sabotage, well, whatever this is.

"honestly, from all these messages, you have unknowingly made him chase you. notice how you don't say much and he comes back texting you multiple times?" choi san is quick to explain, using his own flirting skills to decipher the conversation.

he lays on his stomach on your bed, pillow under it and legs swinging in the air. his freshly dyed blonde hair is a dry mess, struggling to hold onto his scalp. you wonder why his job requires him to ruin himself this much.

"now what do i do?"

"well, luckily for you, your lack of communication is what got you an advantage here. let's face it, you're dry as fuck."

"thanks."

"welcome. anyways, in your case, that's good. see? instead of giving up and leaving, he keeps coming back to you. and eating your pussy every time you two meet? are you kidding me? that man is obsessed with you."

at the mention of him eating you, your thighs clench, almost feeling his tongue down there. it is driving you crazy, having so much pleasure yet not reaching the peak. he is torturing you, on purpose.

wooyoung: i'll make you cum so hard you'll never wish for anyone but me

wooyoung: and that's a promise.

two new messages light up your phone, san grabbing it before you can. he covers his mouth, eyes wide as he reads the messages over and over. he unlocks the phone, and begins typing.

"no!"

"i'm doing you a favor!" he exclaims, running around the room and still typing.

you hear the sending sound, and your face heats up. he throws the phone on your bed, and sits right next to you.

"what have you done?"

"see for yourself. that, my dear, is called not being dry."

bold of you to think that i'll only wish for you

"that doesn't sound like me at all! you blew it!"

you are quick to bury your face in a pillow, already mourning all this time you've spent and regretting inviting san to help. but when another notification decorates your screen, you almost jump.

wooyoung: why don't you come over for a demostration?

"you do realize that if you go, you might lose your v-card?"

"i know."

"and you're sure that's the person you want to do it with?"

"yes."

he believes you as much as you believe yourself. you always thought your first time would be somewhere romantic, pre-planned, with the person you love and loves you back. not in the apartment of a porn star. and not with someone that only knows your name.

"you know, my heart really hurts for yunho."

"i invited you to avoid him. why are you bringing him up?" your fierce tone takes him aback, and it takes you aback too, you just manage to not show it.

"wow." san exhales.

"sorry, just- it's none of your business."

"how is it none of my business? i mean, i tried to not get involved, even came here to help you hook up with a complete stranger and help you throw away the best thing that can and will happen to you. i introduced you to yunho, knowing full well on his harmless little crush on you, and knowing full well that you were perfect for him. only to have you-"

"wait a minute, you can't guilt trip me into liking him."

the man in front of you is baffled with your reply, and you feel like you're not looking at one of your close friends anymore. now, you are looking at yunho's best friend, almost his younger brother. you forgot that before you, there was the two of them.

"someone seriously needs to fuck that attitude right out of you. you're acting like an animal in heat."

"well i'm fucking trying to!"

"well you're trying the wrong fucking way!"

"do not tell me who and how to fuck!"

the phone is pinging on your bed, not helping the situation at all. san is looking more disappointed than angry, his eyes becoming scarily dark.

"the fuck do you even know about fucking?"

"i know enough." you don't drop your guard.

san takes a step towards you, examining your face. then another, and another, until you are pushed in the corner of your room with him towering over you. there is nothing attractive about it in this situation, and you wish

"you may know about fucking, but you don't know shit about loving."

"shut up," is the only thing you manage to say, biting back tears.

"i am not guilt tripping you to like or love anyone, but the least you could do is let him down gently and stop playing push and pull with him. giving him hope, then shattering him right after it? not quite moral in my book."

"look, i'm in a difficult situation. i just- i like them both."

choi san laughs, sarcastically. he doesn't find it funny. he just doesn't know how to respond anymore.

"you don't like them both. you like wooyoung, and want to keep yunho as a backup."

"excuse-?"

"save it. i don't even know why i came here, helping you hurt my friend. you have started thinking with your pussy more than your brain, and you're losing people because of it. if you're horny, watch fucking porn."

with that, he grabs his leather jacket off your bed, and storms outside. you are feeling frustrated, angry, and sad. he is right, you know it. but you don't want to admit it. because somehow, in your head, if you don't admit it, it isn't like that. ignoring a problem makes it go away. simple as that.

you want to keep yunho, and his love, and his affection, but you want a taste of wooyoung so bad. so bad that your clit aches when you open his messages, yearning for his cold fingers and hot tongue.

wooyoung: do you like movies?

wooyoung: i thought we could watch the live adaptation of that book you like reading

wooyoung: what was it again?

wooyoung: if you want to, of course

wooyoung has sent a picture! tap to view.

you stop breathing for a moment, thinking of all the things you could expect in that image. you breathe out when you open it, seeing a pullout sofa and a blanket on it, along with snacks and two bottles of soda.

wooyoung: i'd be happy if you joined me :)

why, rosie unavailable?

wooyoung: i'm gonna go ahead and ignore that, for the sake of both of us

whatever that means

why are you the one sabotaging yourself now? yunho isn't here, and san has left too. then why?

wooyoung: it means that i don't like it when people mock what i do

wooyoung: and when people mock me, i become angry

wooyoung: and angry and horny don't go well together

wooyoung: unless you want to put it to test?

wooyoung angry fucking you? you grimace. would it be the kind of sex he did in his last live with that rosie girl? if yes, you are feeling very turned off right now. he must've sensed the lack of replying on your side, and is quick to respond again.

wooyoung: can't help it, sorry

wooyoung: just come over and we can hang?

your phone pings, sending you a message with a different name on top.

choi san: bet his new live will bring him a fortune. who else has taken someone's virginity live on a porn site?

what the fuck are you on about? there's no live.

choi san: that's what you think

choi san: or that's what he'll make you think

choi san: unless he convinces you to willingly do it

he wouldn't. would he? wooyoung who has asked you before each contact whether you're sure, or whether you're feeling nervous. wooyoung who already had his hands on your tits, and still wanted to ask if you're sure. he wouldn't secretly film you. he wouldn't.

what do you consider a hang? and why?

wooyoung: just hang? watch that movie and talk?

wooyoung: because

wooyoung: idk

wooyoung: you're so stiff and awkward yet i wanna know more about you and see you

wooyoung: i guess i want to be the one to unstiff you?

wooyoung: NOT LIKE THAT

wooyoung: i dropped my cool guy vibe just like that

wooyoung: look at me texting you multiple times in a row

wooyoung: i've never ever done that in my life for anyone

wooyoung: so...?

so san was right. you did unintentionally make him chase you. played hard to catch without even knowing it. you have a whole porn star folding for you, and offering you all you ever wanted. or at least you think you wanted.

ping!

yunho: hey just wanted to ask if everything is alright?

yunho: sorry if i somehow hurt you

yunho: you seem a little distant, and i know it might be because of the kiyomi situation, but i promise i care about you so much

yunho: if you want you can come over and we can make that pasta together?

yunho: i also want to talk to you

yunho: properly

it's now or never.

you gonna pick me up or?

you sit in the familiar car, the smell of it relaxing you. he knows how to make scents work and not make them literally bite your nose. you take a good look at him. he wears a simple short sleeved black t-shirt, along with grey ripped jeans and black boots. his hair is a little messy, but it only adds up to his look. every time you see him, you forget just how good he looks.

"angel?"

"wooyoung?"

he laughs, eyes not moving off the road.

"are you okay?"

"yes." you simply reply, shifting your attention to the surrounding houses.

you don't speak the rest of the way, just enjoying his humming and wheel tapping. it isn't uncomfortable silence. at least not for you. you can also hear faint vibrations coming from your phone in your bag, and you know exactly who they belong to.

"whoever that is, they sure are persistent." wooyoung comments.

"sorry. i'll shut it off."

"oh, no. please. i was just noticing."

you finally take the phone out, screen bombarded with his notifications. just when you wanted to clear the notification tab, he calls, and you click the green phone.

"shit."

"hello?"

wooyoung glances at your phone, eyebrows furrowed. he keeps driving, not saying a word.

"hey, yunho, now is not a good time-"

"it never is lately anyway. listen, i will just say what i wanted to like this."

"yunho, no-"

"i love you. i don't even think about the words like or crush anymore, i know, i'm sure, that i love you. and i know you're slipping away from me, and i know there's no way to stop it."

you stare at wooyoung, who is carefully listening to the voice coming from your device. you are shaking, thoughts running wild. you are becoming more aware of your feelings towards yunho, and aware about the situation you are putting yourself in. you are on your way to shatter everything you've ever had with him, and everything you could've had with him. for just a taste of what seemed to only exist in your mind.

"i won't blame you if you go with him. i'm just afraid of you getting hurt, maybe worse than that night. and this time i might not be around to fix it. i do not have the energy anymore. i'm sorry."

san was right about this too, and you hate him for it. all this time you subconsciously kept yunho as a backup. you've convinced yourself that he isn't your type, and you did so good at it. until now.

"i'm not saying you should respond to any of my feelings, but it would've been nice if you came to me and said something along the lines of "sorry yunho, i don't think we will ever be what you want us to be" instead of luring me in and pushing me around. calling me when you need it, then ignore me when you get what you want. i hate that i love you, and i hate that i have to humiliate myself like this every damn time. but i promised myself this would be my last. unless you really wish to discuss all of this properly, and whether or not you want our friendship to continue despite all this. tonight is your last chance. i am speaking to you as a friend now. i want to know where i stand."

you are speechless. he has touched the darkest spot in your heart. that dusty corner reserved for love. the kind of love san accused you of not knowing. how are you supposed to respond when there is a whole man next to you, a man who has also asked you to hang and talk tonight?

"i'll wait until midnight. if you don't show up, that will also help me know where i stand. but then, know that you might not hear from me anymore."

the phone call ends just in time when wooyoung pulls up in his parking spot. he silently exits, opening the door for you. still overwhelmed by the one sided conversation that just happened, you remain seated.

"if you're going to be sulky like that, i will just drive you to him." wooyoung offers, annoyance clear in his tone.

you feel a little irritated for his lack of empathy. but who would empathize with such an awful person like yourself? wooyoung sighs, then crouches in front of the open door on your side.

"you can't sit on two stools at a time, angel. i understand that emotions are hard, and love is complicated. right now, i am offering you something simple, and something harmless. i am not looking for love, i think. i just want to help you discover, and i want to discover you."

not looking for love, that you know. but it feels different hearing it out loud. the i think part right after it went right over your head, only adding to the you really are dense agenda.

"yunho is offering you commitment. real love. something i'm not quite capable of giving you, or anyone. i think with my dick, and he thinks with his heart. that creates a problem for you, because you want to be loved, but you also want a dick to make you stop thinking."

you aren't sure if he is dirty talking, or if this is just the way he speaks about these things. you finally look at him. his hand reaches for yours, gently guiding you out of the car.

"you can sit down and think inside."

but there was not much thinking. you were quick to lay on top of wooyoung, entirely relaxed in his arms as his nails grazed the skin of your thighs. non sexually. just innocent pleasure and the movie playing in the back. but you can't relax all the way, because you know where tonight will lead. you squirming under wooyoung's touch, the only emotions present being lust and yeaerning. you liked yunho. you really did. but the way wooyoung handles you is not like any other. you need to have it, at least one more time.

"you're not watching the movie."

"i know."

"then what are you doing?"

"thinking."

wooyoung sighs. his hands halt on your waist, then help you sit up on his lower stomach as he stays laying down.

"be honest with me. what exactly do you want? i won't judge you."

"i don't know." you lie.

"let me try a different approach. what do you want with me? be completely raw, so we can both know where we stand."

and you do just that. tell him all about your desires, about the feeling of lust which you've mistaken as a crush towards him, about loving how desirable you are feeling when it comes to him, and everything that comes to your mind. he listens, slowly nodding his head as you speak.

"i guess i want to have a little fun with no commitment before the, you know, actual commitment."

"i understand. now, what do you want with yunho?"

"everything."

you do want everything with him. from the kisses he is dying to offer you to whatever kinkery he has hidden behind those shiny eyes. yunho is a man every girl wants, including you, yet he only has heart eyes for you. and you'd be stupid to let that go.

"then go for it."

"see, the thing is- i already got a taste of you. and i want closure. i want to finally get that orgasm you've been delaying for so long."

wooyoung nods, eyebrows a little scrunched. he is focused on putting a stray hair behind your ear, and when that hair refuses to obey him over and over again, he huffs, and finally gives your sentence attention.

"we need to discuss first. what kind of orgasm are we talking?"

"what do you mean?"

"well, now that you've finally come to terms with your feelings towards that yunho dude, taking your v-card is off the table?"

"yeah, i guess." you shrug, as if it was just a hug you were talking about.

"just to warn you, it hurts like hell."

"that i know. thanks."

"he can reach out to me for some tips if he wants. just saying."

"got it."

he smiles, then proceeds.

"filming is off the table?"

"uh-"

"just asking, not forcing. if we are going to do simple oral and, or, fingering, then you know... i'd maybe like some footage. at least for me to enjoy sometimes."

come to think of it, it is risky, and it is something that you wouldn't do ever again when or if you become yunho's partner. this is maybe a once in a lifetime opportunity, and you don't want to waste it.

"i'll give you back by midnight, baby." he winks.

"okay." you agree.

you feel your heart beat faster, and louder. you have just agreed to be filmed, in a stranger's house, touched by that same stranger, and the video will be up for so many people to see. so what? you'll ask him to blur or cut the face out of the frame. simple as that.

"come on then."

the young man stands up, giving you his open hand. little do you know that the gaze you're giving him from below him on that couch is making his pants feel very tight.

you accept his hand, and allow him to lead you to his room. your eyes land on the bed. the very same bed and pillows where he filmed that live, and many other lives after that. wooyoung then gently pushes you towards the bed, hands grazing your waist while his eyes admire your outfit. it looks so easy to take off.

he carefully pushes you on the bed, and you swear you've never felt a mattress so soft. he climbs on the bed, hovering over you and giving you one more head to toe scan.

"so pretty." he whispers.

"thank you." you say, not knowing what else to do.

he laughs, then leans in to give you a kiss sweeter than those cake pops you used to eat throughout your whole high school. he kisses you again, again and again, until you start yearning for more. you reach for his shoulders, hair, neck, anything to make him deepen the kiss and give you one of his passionate ones. he takes his time, playing with your bottom lip and tugging it between his teeth.

"patience." he instructs, then untangles your hands from his hair.

he reaches towards the nightstand. the same nightstand from which he pulled that clear toy out that night you discovered him. instead of something crazy, he pulls a single piece of long fabric. the fabric is shiny and pink, with lace decorating it.

"you trust me?"

"completely."

"that's a good girl." he kisses your forehead before putting the silk over your eyes. "raise your head for me a little bit."

you do as told, enough so he can tie it up behind your head. he adjusts your hair, letting it fall over your shoulders, then traces his finger down your neck and to your collarbones. you almost shiver at his touch. he continues his journey to your shoulders, gently pulling down the sleeves of your dress, then does the same to the other. you feel like everything is ten times more intense, since you can't see anything anymore.

he pulls his hand back, then shuffles on top of you for a while. you hear something hit the floor, and then feel the mattress dip between your legs. wooyoung takes your hand, guiding it towards a  source of warmth. you breathe out when you touch his warm skin, nails yearning to dig into it. he helps you trace his abs, his formed chest, and all the way down to his defined v-line. you feel a few veins leading to a place of heaven, or hell, and you have to bite your lip to keep you from smiling.

this is exactly what you want.

"can i see?" you ask nicely.

"no. just feel." he declines, and you hear him smile as he says that.

"okay." you comply, using the opportunity to touch a little more

he then gets off the bed again, and you hear slight rattling. he must be setting up the camera. it doesn't take long for him to come back, placing an object next to you at a certain position.

"i'm only going to be filming myself and your lower body, alright? something like your point of view? you okay with that?"

"yes."

"you sure?"

"yes." you breathe out, feeling his hands caressing your hips.

"we need a safe word, angel."

"god, i don't know, just touch me already. please." you beg like a pathetic slut.

"i know you're impatient, but i really need you to think of a word."

"i don't know." you're becoming annoyed with him.

"how about..." he hums, then kisses your jawline, "mocha?"

"y-yes, that sounds good." you stutter as he plants kisses along your jawline, going down your neck and stopping at collarbones.

"so when you say mocha, i'm stopping everything i'm doing. got it?"

"yes."

"good. i'm turning it on now."

you hear a click, then a short sound. he waits a little, probably for people to join.

"hi, my favorite people. i would do some talking, but to be honest, i can't wait to dive into today's special."

you don' t have time to process his words, he is shuffling through the drawers again. wooyoung then takes your clothes off, and you help him by raising your hips, pulling your arms out your sleeves, all to make him satisfied. he plants a kiss on your knuckles, thumb grazing over them before he sets your hand back down. his lips hover above your skin, blowing cool air along the line of the lingerie bra you wore.

"i like you more in those pastels." he admits.

the man cups your breasts, slowly massaging them and letting his thumbs graze your tense buds over the thin black lace. you squirm under his touch, feeling the pleasure pool in your lower stomach. you swear you could cum from only nipple touching if he did it long enough. you could try that once.

"she's awfully quiet, isn't she? what should i do to her?" he speaks to the camera.

he then takes a few seconds to read the written suggestions, and then chuckles.

"take off the bra? oh, but i quite like it like this. it makes the situation sexier and more intimate. doesn't look like that raw porn you can find on pornhub, right?"

he is right. you got all dolled up for him, would be a shame if he took everything off so soon. you feel a warm wet muscle trace around your areola, building anticipation. his other hand plays with it too, not once touching the nerve ending that is angrily sticking out and demanding attention. he finally gives in, closing his lips around the tense bud and ever so lightly grazes it with the tip of his tongue.

you gasp, arching your back from the mattress. his hand is quick to find its place on your stomach, pushing  your body back down and caressing your skin along the way.

"atta girl." he praises, seeing just how obedient you are for him.

his teeth graze your nipple, then gently tug at it. you twitch, hands flying towards him in hopes to grab his hair. he is quick to grab your wrists, pinning your hands above your head.

"i'm the one doing the exploring, angel. you lay there for me like the patient pretty doll you are."

you nod, immediately becoming still. his fingers find a path down your stomach, to the line of your panties. he caresses the skin right above your clit, circling it, grazing the inside of your thighs, your folds, all while ignoring the burning place right in the middle of all that. your hips almost buck into his hand, but you remember to be good. he pushes the panties aside, revealing you to himself and the camera.

"oh, so pretty." he exhales.

you hear him put his fingers in his mouth, coating them in saliva, then dip between your folds. you whine when he touches the tip of your clit, spinning it in circles and making you gasp for air. your hands are still pinned above your head, and his knee is fast to hold your legs open by pressing the inside of your thigh into the mattress. he then dips his fingers below, first one, then two. the feeling of strange and a little uncomfortable is back, but when he starts pumping in and out at a slow pace, occasionally curling his fingers up, you are a moaning mess. you can hear just how wet you are for him, and each time he buries his fingers deep inside of you, you have to fight the urge to moan louder.

"wish you could see just how well you're taking me."

you remember how absolutely hot it looked that night, seeing his fingers disappear inside of you.

"good, good girl. one more? think you can handle?"

there is two already, but you still nod. he adds another finger, deliciously stretching you out and giving you trouble breathing. it seems like hours have passed, and wooyoung is still content with fingering you at a pace that is too slow even for you. he is enjoying the sounds and view you are offering him, and is too mesmerized by the way he is so smoothly disappearing inside of you, all while you breathe heavily and buck your hips into his hand.

you feel your wrists become free. sore, but free. wooyoung then grabs something from the nightstand, and shuffles with it for a few moments. you hear light buzzing, and your heart jumps a little. fuck, he is doing everything just right. as if he entered your mind and stole all your wishes.

he brings it to your nipple, circling it just like his tongue is circling your clit. you are overwhelmed, struggling to keep still like he instructed.

"wooyoung-" you whine.

"i know, baby. feels so good, doesn't it?" he coos, sending shivers up your spine.

"yeah," you whine again, not quite capable of doing anything else.

"yeah," he hums. "you're doing a very good job, angel. hold on tight for me. don't let go just yet."

he is taking his sweet time, acting like this is only the beginning of a very long movie. you feel like cumming, and you don't want to do that just yet. you're having too much fun, and the buildup is much more pleasurable than the orgasm itself. at least you think so. his voice is soothing, low and raspy, and that alone is enough to make you feel like you came ten times already.

his tongue dives between your folds again, adding the third source of pleasure and shooting arrows to your core. you tremble under his passionate licks, thighs struggling to stay open. he hums into your clit, vibrations matching the ones on your nipple. he spins the gadget around your buds, slowly, then teases the areola again. you hear yourself become louder and louder, and he doesn't seem to mind. it's killing you that you can't see him. he must surely look gorgeous between your legs, working his tongue on you like it's his last feast.

his plush lips close around the tip of your clit, gently tugging it, tongue spinning it in slow circles just how you like it. but today, it all seems a little too slow. you are eager to see just how he will make you cum. maybe you can take two?

"how much longer?" you ask, feeling a bit stupid.

"oh, so much longer. i'm not letting go of you just yet."

the time is slow, and pleasure still bearable. you don't know how much longer you can hold. luckily, he pulls away from you, just in time. you feel his wet digits trail your bottom lip, as if asking permission to enter. you open your mouth, taking in the arousal that exists just for him. you taste yourself on his fingers, working your tongue around them so that you don't just lay completely useless. he hums, watching you swirl around them, and letting them go with a little suck at the end.

"i'm going to make you feel so good, princess. give you the best treatment you'll ever get."

you feel all fluttery and fidgety from his words. you could listen to him forever.

"come here."

you feel him sit behind you, back resting against the wall, and his hands pull you into his lap. your bare back rests against his built chest, and you can't help but hum at the sensation. he chuckles, loving every bit of reaction you have to give him.

"face reveal?" he reads a comment, and you become tense in his hands. "no."

the firm no has you grabbing his thighs, legs automatically spreading for him to continue abusing your clit and hole. his fingers move your hair out of the way of your chest, and gently tuck it behind your ears.

"so pretty." he coos again, leaving a kiss on top of your head.

you melt into his arms at his never ending praises, and you can't get enough. you wish to be called pretty all day long. you wish to be kissed like that for the rest of your life. you love how desired he makes you feel.

"are you real?" you mumble, lost in the soft vibrations that are circling your entrance.

he laughs, then kisses your shoulder. "very much, sweetheart."

"it feels too good. you feel too good."

"i know, baby. i know."

the gadget on your cunt is small, and still at a low speed. he uses his other hand to spread your folds, enough to start inserting the small vibrator inside. you yelp a little, the stretch wider than his fingers.

"easy," he whispers, "just like that..."

he fully inserts it, and you feel so full and in pain.

"i'm not going all the way, don't be afraid."

he pumps the toy in and out of you, enough to get you used to the new stretch. his other hand toys with your clit and tricks your brain into focusing on the pleasure rather than pain.

"wooyoung?"

"yes, love?"

"i thought you said you'd destroy me."

his movements stop. you bite your lip, trying to keep the smirk spreading on your lips. a gasp leaves your lips as his hand grabs your jaw, pulling your head back so that he can look at your face. he gets close, so close that your lips almost touch.

"is that what you want?"

his hot breath is so inviting, but when you reach to kiss him, he moves away, and grabs your jaw firmer.

"you want your tight little cunt to be destroyed? you want me to throw you around and use you like that toy you watched me fuck? you want me to fuck the feeling for the other guy out of you? so that you don't see nobody else but me? so that your pussy only fits on my cock? so that your body only responds to me?"

you are breathless as he spills all his intentions out, with each sentence sending goosebumps all over your body.

"that what you want? for me to fuck you dumb?"

"yes." you simply say.

you expected him to push you down on the bed. you expected him to pull your hair. you expected him to degrade you, spank you, and whatnot. but what you did not expect was the gentle tug of the blindfold, and a caress of your cheek as his grip on your jaw softened. you open your eyes, and meet his dark ones.

"are you sure?" he asks quietly.

"what?" you act dumb.

"you want me to...?"

"i want you to fuck me." you finally say it.

it seems like he has stopped breathing for a moment. he takes a few seconds to examine your face, looking for any signs of hesitation. when he sees none, he places the silk on your hands, tying them up and placing them in your lap.

"i meant what i said," he speaks to you and only you now, back turned towards the camera. "i am going to take a good care of you. remember your safety word?"

"mocha."

"good girl." he places a kiss on your forehead, then pushes you to lay down.

you watch him unbutton his pants, finally seeing more of that v-line you are suddenly very obsessed with. he throws them on the floor, along with the boxers, letting his cock free from the grip of the fabric. your jaw drops at the size. not enormous, but still too big for your virgin self. this is going to hurt like hell.

"can i suck you off?" you ask, subconsciously doing the big eyes thing he so much loves.

"are you sure? i wanted this to be about you."

"i'm sure." you say, eager to get a taste of him. "just, uh... guide me?"

"with pleasure."

he lays on the bed, elbow holding his upper body up as his other hand brings your face close to his cock. you didn't think it would look this clean and... pretty. you stick your tongue out, finally getting a taste of him. he hums, throwing his head back. you lick up from the base to the tip, immediately taking him in your mouth. he gasps, not expecting it so soon. he fills your mouth deliciously, resting against your tongue as his precum spills down your throat. he feels smooth, and very hot.

"god, so good," he groans, hand reaching for your hair to guide you up and down.

you bob your head up and down, too impatient to go slow like he did. you want to hear him more, knowing that you are the reason for those sounds and words.

"even your mouth is so tight, i might cum if you continue." he pulls your head away.

"you're so mean," you whine.

"i know," he coos for the third time today, knowing just what it does to you. "let me take care of you."

you try to lay down, but he holds you in place. you are confused. does he want to jump to some insane positions right away?

"missionary hurts. we will try something else. that good?"

you nod, and he sits against the wall again. he pulls you towards him, finally kissing you again. he showers you with soft kisses, and even though he promised whatnot, you are still experiencing a very soft and gentle version of him. you like it, but the thought of all the things he has listed for you is making your blood boil with excitement.

his hands cup your ass, raising your body and slowly bringing it towards his cock. you look down, noticing that a condom is already sitting on it. when did he manage to do that?

"slow," he whispers, guiding your hips so that you slowly start to sit on him, "just like that. good job."

you yelp at the uncomfortable stretch, and knowing that the pain is yet to come, you put your still tied hands around his neck and rest your head on his shoulder. inch by inch, he disappears inside of you, leaving no space empty. you feel so full and uncomfortable, your teeth sink into his shoulder to stop the loud moans of pain.

"hold onto me, love. it'll be better."

you forget the camera. you forget yunho. you forget san. you forget your feelings towards the other man. you will enjoy this, even if it was your last.

"can i move?"

"yes."

he keeps you close to him, lifting your hips slowly up and down. you hear the comment section flooding, and glance over at the laptop on the nightstand. each money donation makes a sound, and right now, there is tons of them. you enjoy all the praises written in the comments, talking about how well you are taking him, how obedient you are, and how innocent you look. you like it all a little too much.

wooyoung speeds up the pace, hips finally colliding with yours with a bigger force. you don't let go of his shoulder just yet, still focusing on the pleasure and trying to ignore the pain. he is a groaning mess, and little did you know that he has to use every ounce of self control in him to not just slam you on the bed and fuck you open for him. he grips your hips, sure to leave bruises afterwards, and keeps the same pace for a while.

"feeling okay?"

"yeah," you stutter between little gasps and moans.

"can i speed up?"

"yes, please."

the man finally lets himself loose, picking up your body by your waist and moving his own hips instead in a fast pace. your jaw drops, and your eyes roll back from the newfound point of pleasure. you are completely lost in his touch, scent and voice. he is grunting with each push, reaching deep inside of you and touching a particularly sensitive spot you didn't know you had.

"fuck, you're so wet." he hisses. “look how well you take me.”

having enough of the position, he finally throws you against the mattress, yet his gaze still has a hint of worry for you. when you smile, it's his sign to dive into your gardens again. the new position feels odd, and good in a new way. he reaches for a pillow, putting it under your hips for easier access, and finally fulfills his promise.

his hips dive into yours, colliding with force and awaking the orgasm inside of you. the pace isn't fast, it is just right. you have enough time to savour every delicious pump he delivers you.

"i want to cum so bad, please." you beg, feeling a bit overstimulated.

"just a little longer, hm?"

he speeds up the pace, grabbing your waist and practically slamming you against his cock, while his hips stay resting. you feel like that toy, being used like this. you can't help but develop a secret size kink, seeing how easily he is handling you and throwing your body around how he likes it. your eyes catch the gadget near him on the bed, and you grab it. his eyes are focused on the place you're connecting, admiring the view with scrunched eyebrows. he is so into it, that he doesn't even see you put the vibrating gadget on your clit. it is the sudden flood of comments again that makes him look away.

"chasing that orgasm like a thirsty little cumslut?"

you nod eagerly, focusing on the pool of pleasure threatening to spill over. a volcano waiting to erupt. a bottle of champagne waiting to pop.

"wooyoung-"

"go on, baby. i've tortured you enough."

you moan, grabbing his hand for support as you slowly reach the peak.

"cum on my cock like it's your last." he grunts.

it takes you over the edge. a river spilling over the highest cliffs, hitting hard against the pond and creating waves all the way to the shore. it is ripping through your body, and you swear you feel in in the ends of your hair and the tips of your toes. your back arches from the mattress, shaking as shock waves continue to exhaust your body. you are a moaning and whining mess, grabbing anything you can, from his arms and hair, to the mattress and pillows above your head.

"fuck, angel, i'm close too." he warns.

"use me," you whine, still in a hazy state. "use me like that fuck toy."

hearing you speak that way sends him over the edge too, fingers digging into the skin of your waist, and eyes rolling back as he moans and groans. his hips become sloppy, and you feel something warm spill inside of you. it takes a few more pumps for him to come down from his high, and when he is done, he lets himself fall on top of you.

he doesn't speak. doesn't move. just breathes and holds you in his embrace. you lay there for a while, trying to calm your breathing and come back to your senses. with a single tap on the keyboard, he shuts the live off, not even looking at it. he does it that often, he doesn't need to look.

his head finds peace in the space between your shoulder and neck, and his arms caress the place that is full of red marks from his hands. his breathing slows, and when you look down, you realize he has dozed off. you do too, holding him against your chest and replaying everything that just happened.

when you wake up, you see that the sky has gotten darker. you reach for the phone, checking the time so that you won't be late to your arrangement with yunho. but then, you see a notification just underneath the digits showing a young night.

a single message, with an attached screenshot of a very familiar room and familiar nude people.

yunho: i think i'm ready to let go. you've made it so much easier. goodbye.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

@minimoniac @miriamxsworld @kodzukein @woomyteez @mulletdaddyjayjo @bae4choi @haatohwa @marvelahsobx @jxhnnyfav

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Romance Novel

Stepdad!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader Oneshot

18+ MDNI

Warnings: unprotected PiV, oral (female receiving), inappropriate relationships, scent kink? panty kink? Anakin is freaky idk, L-bomb, accidental cumming inside you

Info: Anakin is your stepdad, you’re in college, he LOVES to embarrass/tease you; so of course he can’t miss the opportunity to read your filthy little romance novel!!! Sweet n’ tender, alittle mushy ❤️ low key making fun of myself/fanfic writers just alittle with the book Ani teases you about (hehehhehehe)

"That's better," Anakin mutters in satisfaction, wrapping an arm around around you as you tucked yourself against his side.

"So, what have you been reading?" He asks, taking a long drag from his cigarette before exhaling slowly.

"Oh, just some romance novel," you mumbled, trying to sound casual. Knowing we would tease you about it.

Anakin chuckled lowly, his deep baritone reverberating through the room. "Aww, a little romance, huh? Do tell me more about these knights and their damsels in distress." He teased, kissing the top of your head.

“Anakin.” You groaned, your face getting pink with embarrassment.

"Those college boys really so bad you had to turn to books?” He chuckled, grabbing the book from the coffee table.

“Jesus… this is raunchy.” He laughed, a glint of something dark in his eyes as he looked over at you. “you like this stuff?”

“I mean… yeah?” You giggled nervously “I’m reading it aren’t I?”

"I knew it," Anakin smirked, setting aside the cigarette in the ashtray and flipping through the pages again. "You're not as innocent as you let on."

“Wow.” He chuckled, a wide grin on his face as he read over a paragraph.

“Maybe I should be your narrator for a minute. Just to see you blush.” He teased, pinching your thigh lightly as he cleared his throat.

“No!” You yelped trying to grab the book from his hands. “Oh my god no, please I’d rather die.”

"Well, I’ll make sure they play your favorite song at your funeral.” He grinned wide and devilish.

Anakin started to read out loud, his deep voice flowing like honey. His hand slowly crept upwards, tracing along your thigh until it reached the hemline of your skirt.

"The hero, strong and muscular, towering over the petite damsel... ohh, she feels his hands caressing her delicate curves..." He said mockingly, his fingers brushed against your waist.

“She closes her eyes, surrendering to his touch..." He wiggled his eyebrows at you, a smarmy expression on his face.

“Really?” You huffed, rolling your eyes and pretending this wasn’t doing anything for you. Nothing at all.

“Gods… this is-“ He cleared his throat, not-so-subtly adjusting himself through his sweatpants.

“He dipped his tongue into her dripping hole, devouring her slicked cunt with lewd slurping noises.” He glanced over at you to gauge your reaction.

“Anakin!” You gasped, covering your face with your hands. You were getting flustered, panties dampening just at the thought of Anakin doing those things to you. It was even worse that he was saying them out loud to you.

“Hmm. Let’s see… gonna skip ahead just a bit.” He hummed, obviously having a wonderful time embarrassing you.

"Ah, yes... the climax," Anakin chuckled, his voice husky as he continued reading. “The hero thrusts his massive cock into her tight, virgin entrance, filling her up to the brim..."

"She cried out in pain and pleasure alike, begging for more..." He paused, his eyes locked onto yours.

You knew what he was doing. He knew what he was doing. What he was trying to convey through his beautiful blue eyes. His want. His need for you.

You’d known for a while about his secret obsession. He spoiled you, treated you like a true princess, hell he was more attentive to you than your mom… his wife. Since they married last year, they’ve done nothing but argue. Anakin is so sweet and caring, he deserves better than her. Maybe he deserves you instead.

“Anakin…” You whispered. Your cheeks red as you chewed your lip and squeezed your thighs tightly together to get some pressure on your throbbing clit.

"What is it doll?" He asked softly, reaching over to stroke your hair in a comforting manner.

“I-I just…” You stuttered, flustered and embarrassed by the situation. You’d always found Anakin attractive, just as he did you. But this was not right. You shouldn’t be wet at the thought of your stepdad, it��s wrong…. Right?

“Take your time sweet girl.” He whispered, pulling you closer, wrapping a strong muscular arm around you while he gently rubbed your lower back.

“I want to give you what you want.” He mumbled, his lips pressed against your temple. “But you have to be the one to ask for it.”

You sighed, furrowing your brows in thought as you buried your head into his shoulder.

“Please.” You whispered. “Don’t make me say it.”

He shook his head. Giving you the answer you didn’t want. You knew he needed to hear it from you. To know he wasn’t crazy for thinking this way, to know you felt something too. To have it said aloud.

You lifted your head and looked up at him. Seeing the same hunger in his eyes that you knew were in your own.

“Tell me what you need.” He softly commanded.

“I wanna kiss you… please?” You asked, voice shaking with nervousness.

He leaned in and tilted your chin just enough so that your noses were touching and whispered sweetly, honeyed and smooth. "You want me to kiss you?"

“Yes.” You said without hesitation, causing Anakin let out a puff of air in a breathy laugh.

“I’m proud of you baby… I’ve been waiting so patiently for you to ask.” He mumbled against your lips, making you wait a few seconds more before giving you what you both so desperately wanted.

The kiss was loving. His soft lips smoothed over yours, slotting together as though they were meant to be. Like two magnets that had finally been turned the right way, snapping into place the way nature intended. He wasn’t rushed, not like you were. He groaned and chuckled when you tried to lift your shirt over your head, his strong hands stopping you.

You should’ve felt embarrassed. Being so desperate for your stepfather’s touch, so needy for the man before you. But you weren’t, you couldn’t be. Not when he looked at you like that.

“No, no. I don’t want to rush this." Anakin spoke between breaks in the kiss, his thumbs teasing your bare stomach beneath your shirt, tracing circles around your bellybutton and downwards towards the waistband of your skirt.

He carefully slipped his tongue past your lips, massaging your tongue with his. The taste of him was so… right. Perfectly curated for your liking. Like the fancy wine he bought for you to share sometimes. You couldn’t help but moan in response, thinking of all those times you could’ve done this, thinking how clear it was… your attraction to each other, how foolish you’d both been to ignore it.

You moaned, needy and practically distraught over his lack of touch. “Please, I need more.”

He groaned, pulling you into his lap to straddle his thighs. His calloused hands slipping beneath the soft fabric of your skirt. Grabbing a handful of ass to guide you closer, pressing you against his chest.

“I will give you everything.” He whispered, his breath hot against your neck as he placed sloppy kisses there. “just let me take my time.”

“Mmmhhhmm.” You hummed in agreement, the feeling of his lips against your sensitive flesh was satisfying in a way you’d never felt before. Midas’s touch in the form of a kiss.

“Ani… th-that feels good.” You breathed out, your voice showing how much you really wanted him. If there was one thing you couldn’t control, it was that. The tone of your voice. Try your best and still, Anakin would always know what you really meant, how you really felt.

Anakin smiled, his lips moving downwards along your neck and collarbone, nibbling on the sensitive skin as he went. He wasn’t planning on speeding this up anytime soon, he was going to tenderly torture you by making you wait. Making you earn it.

“Anakin…” You whimpered, hips unintentionally grinding against the bulge in his sweat pants. “giving me goosebumps.”

Humming, his hand sliding beneath your ass and lifting you up slightly before setting you back down on his lap, now directly centered over his hard bulge. His lips traveled lower, kissing and sucking along the slope of your cleavage, stopping just short of the fleshy part you so badly wanted him to squeeze.

"Are you okay, doll?" He asked, his voice husky with desire.

“Yes.” You nodded, rolling your hips against him. It send a strike of lightning through your cunt, exiting your needy body in the form of a desperate whine.

“Please touch me.” You begged, arm around his neck, hand in his hair while your other fisted the hem of his shirt.* “please I can’t take much more.”

"Patience darlin’. I am not doing that out here, you deserve a real bed." He growled, standing up from the couch and pulling you with him. He carried you towards your bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him with his foot.

Once inside, he placed you on the bed, crawling over top of you, pinning you down with his weight. His mouth returned to cradle yours, devouring you hungrily while his hands continued their relentless exploration of your body.

Anakin pulled away from the kiss, sitting up on his knees and pulling you against his chest to suckle on your neck again. Nipping your earlobe gently as he slowly slid his hands beneath your skirt again. His rough palms gliding over the backs of your smooth thighs. His fingers teasing the crease of your ass cheeks at the top of your thigh before following the line of your panties. He gently tugged it down until it pooled around your bent knees. You quickly kicked it off and out of the way.

Carefully he lifted your shirt up and over your head, as though he were unwrapping something delicate and breakable. The wind knocked out of him with the realization you weren’t wearing a bra. You giggled to yourself thinking ‘yeah, could’ve found that out earlier if you just would’ve touched me.’.

But if you were being honest, you preferred it this way. Being able to see his reaction to your body, the unobstructed view of his eyes as they widened. His pupils dilating in love and lust.

"Oh fuck..." His voice cracked as he looked down at your bare breasts, nipples hard and begging for attention. "You are beautiful..."

Anakin's hand cupped one breast, squeezing firmly, rolling the nipple between his thumb and index finger while the other hand found its way to your waist.

“Ohh Ani.” You gasped at his touch, ‘finally’, you thought, ‘this was worth the wait.’. A fresh gush of arousal leaking out to form a wet spot on your panties.

“Anakin, please you’re torturing me.” You whined, desperate for more, anything more.

"I told you I'd give you everything, baby girl." Anakin purred, his hand moving up to tenderly trace your jaw. “but I’m not going to fuck you.” He whispered kissing you softly to quiet your attempt at protest.

“Shhh, I’m not gonna fuck you.” He pulled back, looking into your eyes with a depth of emotion you’d never seen before. He slowly lowered you back down onto the bed. Ensuring your comfort before kissing you again, licking down your jaw to find your earlobe and suck it between his teeth. He released it slowly, and whispered in a deliciously low rumble.* “I’m gonna make love to you.”

The wave of pure lust and arousal that washed over your body was almost painful in the way that it made every pore of your very being cry out for him. Willing you to beg for more, more, more.

He sucked one nipple into his mouth, resting his upper body weight on your stomach. It should’ve been uncomfortable, but it wasn’t. It was actually kind of comforting? Keeping you grounded when all your mind wanted to do was float up to the clouds.

“Fuck.” You breathed out, his lips moving to give the other nipple the same love and attention.

You mewled, trying to buck your hips and squeeze your hand unoccupied with guiding his head on your breasts, down between you to give yourself some well deserved friction on your clit.

He didn’t stop you, nor did he speak, he just looked up at you from his work on your raw and red nipples with a disapproving expression. Reluctantly you returned the hand to its previous position of tracing invisible lines between his shoulder blades.

“That's a good girl." Anakin praised, releasing your nipple with a soft pop. His lips trailed downwards, leaving a trail of fire along your stomach before reaching your panty-covered mound.

He gripped your hips and dragged you to the edge of the bed so he could kneel between your thighs. He kissed and nipped his way up your inner thigh, stopping to bury his face into the fabric of your soaked panties, inhaling deeply.

You squirmed, cheeks flushed and chest feeling hot. What was he doing? Your heart raced at the way he brazenly took in your scent, he looked completely unfazed, as though this was a normal thing that every man does. Maybe he thought they did, or should.

“Goddamnit.” He moaned, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he rested his forehead at the crease of your thigh, his lips still dangerously close to your cunt.

“M’taking these off dollface.” He whispered in a husky tone.

He peeled your damp panties off, bunching them in his hand while his other teasingly dragged his fingers through the curly hairs between your legs. He brought the fabric to his face again and inhaled like he was oxygen starved. His voice rumbled in his throat as he removed his hand from its place of teasing to assist his other in unwadding the panties.

“Smells so goddamn good.” He growled, bringing them back up to his face; making eye contact as he dragged his tongue across the large wet patch on the fabric.

Oh. Oh, okay… so he’s kinky; you whimpered at the realization that he’d somehow gotten even harder just from your scent. You couldn’t help but be incredibly turned on at this unexpected moment. It was filthy, so filthy. But more importantly it was extremely fucking hot.

At devious thought occurred in this moment; ‘has he done this before? He’s done your laundry often… fuck, that would just make it even hotter.’

“Mmmhmm..." Anakin moaned and nodded his head as if to answer your unasked question, his eyes locked on yours as he tossed the panties behind him.

He slowly lowered his head to finally get a proper look at your wet and waiting cunt.

“Oh my poor girl.” He cooed, his eyebrows furrowed as he glanced up at you through hooded lids. “all swollen n’ red baby. I made you wait to long didn’t I?”

“Uh huh.” You nodded frantically. “need you Ani… please.“

You tried to wiggle your hips alittle closer to his mouth but his strong hands held you firmly in place, causing a whine of impatience to fall from your lips.

“Anakin please!” You begged without hesitation, without a second thought at how desperate you must sound. “please, please I can’t stand it anymore. It hurts.”

“Shh it’s alright sweetheart." He said, tracing slow circles around your entrance with his index finger, collecting more of your juices before bringing them to his lips and sucking them clean. “I’ll make it all better.”

He paused, his thumb pressed against your swollen, throbbing clit, teasing you mercilessly. "Is this where it hurts baby girl?"

“Gods yes.” You groaned through gritted teeth. Your hand fisting the sheets beside you while the other laced through his thick hair.

At your admission he slowly began to lick and suck your sensitive folds. Each stroke of his tongue sent wave after wave of pleasure to blanket your aching pussy in well earned attention.

His hands gripped your thighs tightly, legs wrapped around him as he buried his face between your legs, his tongue delving deeper inside with each thrust. His fingers trailed along your collarbone before reaching up to caress your breast again, massaging it roughly while keeping eye contact.

"Perfect… such a pretty little pussy." He groaned, his voice almost broken by the intensity of desire in his tone.

His dirty words lit a fire in your stomach that burned hotter and hotter with each swirl of his tongue. Gently he inserting one long digit into your sopping hole, the vibration from the lustful rumble in his throat traveled straight to the coil wound tightly in your gut.

"That's it baby girl, you’re close already huh?." Anakin encouraged, his breath hot against your needy core.

Each thrust of his finger making your body shake and quiver. His tongue continued its relentless assault on your swollen and overwhelmed clit. The way he spoke, even with his face buried and his words muffled from your wet folds… it was beautiful. He was beautiful. His eyes looking up at you with love and devotion as he showered your most intimate place in pleasure.

“There it is… you can do it baby.” He panted.

He added another finger, spreading you wider apart, stretching gently but firmly. He brought his other hand down to pull and pinch your clit, holding it firmly while he viscously attacked it with his talented tongue and the suction of his plump lips. His two fingers relentlessly massaging the spongy front wall of your cunt.

“Anakin oh my god.” You gasped, white hot lightening shooting through you and practically blinding you with pleasure as your legs quivered, thighs clamping around his head.

“Cum-cumming oh fuck don’t stop!” You cried out his name in ecstasy. He took your pleas to heart, he never faltered in his strokes; only humming and moaning along with you as he greedily drank down every drop of your juices.

Anakin kept sucking and licking, his tongue tracing every inch of your sensitive folds until he felt you start to calm down. Only then did he slowly withdraw his fingers from your aching core, leaving you drenched and panting.

"That was beautiful, doll." He praised, wiping his face with the back of his hand before standing up to gaze down at you with a satisfied smirk. “You’re just a fucking Angel aren’t you?"

Without further ado, he pushed his pants and boxers down, freeing his thick, hardened member. It throbbed and leaked a bead of precum, glistening in the dim starlight that illuminated the room.

He helped you get settled back into the center of the bed, positioning himself over you, one hand caressing your red cheeks with his still wet and sticky fingers. Going behind the trail he’d left to lick it away, pulling back to make eye contact while he sucked his digits clean.

“Damn… th-that’s hot.” You whispered, eyes widened as you watched him throughly clean every trace of creamy juices from his fingers.

“You taste so fucking good." Anakin growled, his hand moving down to cup your breast again, squeezing and massaging it roughly while his thumb circled your nipple.

With his weight propped up on one forearm he leaned forward to capture your lips in a slow and loving embrace, his tongue tracing the seam, begging be let in.

You moaned, dropping your jaw slightly to allow him to explore the depths of your mouth as he pleased.

Breaking the kiss Anakin looked down at you, cupping your cheek in his hand. A look of something foreign and familiar in his icy blues. He looked like he wanted to say something, his plump lips parted slightly, tongue darting out to wet them. He closed his eyes for a moment and pressed his forehead to yours, rubbing his nose against yours in that odd affectionate way that he often did. When he pulled back, the look was still there, just dimmer, calmer.

“Let me show you what it feels like to be worshipped as you deserve to be.” He pleaded, positioning himself between your spread legs. Slowly, he lowered himself onto you, his thick cockhead pressing against your sensitive entrance.

"Tell me when you're ready, baby girl." He panted, his hips rocking back and forth teasingly, rubbing the head of his cock against your tight opening. Gathering your mixture of slick and his saliva to lube his cock. “I’ll be so gentle, I’ll make sure you feel good baby. This is all about you.”

“I’m ready.” You whispered, looking at him as his free hand soothed you with gentle caresses on your waist, over your navel and back again.

Anakin groaned, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly pushed inside, inch by agonizingly slow inch. Each bit of his girthy cockhead sliding deeper into your tight, stretched passage.

You moaned, arching upwards towards him, fingers digging into his shoulders, nails leaving small crescent marks in his skin.

He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the intrusion before resuming his pace. Each thrust was slower than the last, each one deeper, stretching you wider and wider until he finally bottomed out, his hips rocking against yours in a steady rhythm.

"Relax sweetheart. Daddy’s got you." He groaned, his breath hot against your ear, teeth nipping lightly at your earlobe.

The growl in his voice, the gritty undertone of the one little word made you clench tightly around his cock, alittle ashamed at loving the way he called himself that. You’d been so caught up drowning in pleasure, you had practically forgotten Anakin was your stepfather, forgotten how wrong this was, forgotten that he wasn’t yours. The reminder almost brought you to tears, or maybe it was the way he circled his hips to hit every ridge and crevice in the depths of your pussy. Maybe it was the way he held you closely as he rocked into you, both his arms tucked underneath you, one hand cradling your head, the other had a firm grip on your ass.

Or perhaps it was the way he praised you, complimented you, put you up on a golden dais. When he said he wanted to worship you, he truly meant it. Every inch of your body felt surrounded by him, like you were fully blanketed in his tender attention.

His hand left your ass to grip your leg tightly, pushing it back and up to your side; anchoring himself as he buried his cock deeper inside with each thrust. Every time he pulled out, he trailed his cockhead along your sensitive folds, before plunging back in again, hitting your G-spot perfectly.

"You’re so fucking tight, baby girl." He groaned, his voice low and husky. "Oh goddamn, I'm close..."

The sensuality of it, the sloshing sound your unbelievably wet cunt was making each and every time he moved, the fact that I could feel your own arousal dripping down your legs, it was overwhelming.

You were so focused on everything you were feeling that you only registered Anakin’s next words after you heard him let out a reedy whimper.

“Fucking hell. You’re killing me here doll.” He groaned. “squeezing me s’tight, being so fucking loud.”

Loud? You were being loud? Oh shit… you were being loud.

“Moaning like a fucking pornstar.” He mumbled, his eyebrows pinched together in concentration.

You flew back to the present moment, suddenly aware of everything ten times more intensely. A roar of white noise deafened you as your eyes rolled back in your head. Your throat constricting as you let out an unholy scream of pure heaven-sent pleasure. Your legs shaking, hands finding purchase behind your head in the form of gripping the headboard.

You called out Anakin’s name over and over again as though it was the only word you knew, your orgasm flooded you in ecstasy coating his cock and thighs in squirt, soaking the bed beneath you.

Anakin groaned, his own orgasm threatening to crash over him like a tidal wave. His grip on your leg tightened to the point of bruising as he pounded into you harder, faster, fucking you so senseless that you were as limp as a rag doll in his arms, whining and moaning, tears of pleasure and overstimulation trickling down your cheeks.

He growled low in his throat, his voice hoarse with need. "Oh fuck... Oh goddamn..."

Anakin groaned, leaning back to watch his cock disappear into your well-fucked hole. His bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

“Shhh-shit shit fuck oh…” His hips stuttered and you swear you saw goosebumps flare up on his arms as he scrunched his eyes shut and let out a low whine.

“Damnit, oh shit.” His breath hitched as he came, as though it took him by surprise. He quickly pulled out, watching his cock twitch as it prepared to shoot another load of sticky white cum. He lightly laughed at himself and looked down at you before pushing back in deeply, his cockhead brushing your cervix as he emptied the rest of his seed into you. “Fuck it I guess. Too late now.” He panted.

The feeling of him emptying himself inside you was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. It was hot, sticky, and somehow right. He remained buried deep, his breath steadying slowly, and his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"That was... damn." He finally managed to pull out of you slowly, his cock still half-hard, drenched in your shared fluids.

“Ani.” You moaned softly, chasing after him as he flopped over onto his back. You crawled over and tucked yourself against his side, playing with the coarse hairs beneath his navel.

"Mmm... you okay baby girl?" Anakin asked, reaching over to run a finger down your back, tracing the line of sweat that had accumulated during your lovemaking.

"Uh huh." You murmured, snuggling closer to him, your hand moving up to trace circles on his chest. You felt oddly content in this position, nestled against him, bodies still joined together by the thin layer of sweat and cum.

"Good." He muttered, placing a gentle kiss on top of my head. After a moment of silence, he spoke up. "How about we go shower? And I’ll change the sheets if you’ll go get me my cigarettes from the living room.”

“Deal.” You sighed contendedly. Standing up on wobbly legs, shooting Anakin a glare when he laughed at your expense; grabbing your ass to ‘help’ steady you.

"My poor little princess." Anakin chuckled, watching you stumble toward the bathroom door. "I don't think you'll be able to walk straight for hours."

Once in the bathroom, he turned on the water and waited patiently for it to heat up before joining you under the showerhead.

"Use my soap," he instructed, passing you a bar of something resembling cedar. "I want you to smell like me." He added as he nipped your shoulder.

You giggled and did as you were told, letting him wash your hair while you rinsed the soap from your body.

After stepping out of the shower he wrapped you in a towel as well as himself. Then ushered you to the sink so he could brush the tangles from your hair, he did this often, but now it felt different, more intimate… special.

He patted your ass with the back of the hair brush to send you off to get his cigarettes while he made the bed with clean sheets.

You happily went about the task and brought the cigarettes as well as a cup of ice water. By the time you returned Anakin was straightening out the blankets.

"Thanks, doll." Anakin accepted the items with a nod and smile, handing you a clean pair of panties as he slipped into some fresh boxers. Once dressed, he motioned for you to lie down, while he walked over to plop himself in your beanbag chair.

“What’re you doing all the way over there?” You complained.

“Shhh.” He chuckled. “I’m not smoking in the bed. It’ll make the sheets reek.“

“Fine.” You huffed. Letting your arm hang over the side of the bed as you looked over at him, watching the smoke curl around his head.

“You’re staring sweetheart.” He chuckled.

“Mhm. I know.” You nodded. “just… like to look at you.”

Anakin took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke that drifted toward you. His eyes flickered with something you couldn't quite identify, possibly contentment mixed with a hint of something else.

"You're beautiful. Always." He murmured, taking another drag before setting aside the pack of cigarettes on the nightstand and putting out his cigarette in an empty water bottle on your nightstand. “I love to look at you too.”

You blushed, smiling as he crawled in beside you to pull you into a crushing embrace. Slowly releasing you to tilt up your chin for a slow and tender kiss.

“Is it… okay if I sleep in here with you?” He asked. Tracing your lips with the pad of his thumb.

“Yeah.” You nodded happily. “I’d like that.”

"Good girl." Anakin smiled, rolling onto his side to spoon you, wrapping his arms around your waist, his chest pressing against your back as he placed a soft kiss on the nape of your neck.

His hand drew patterns on your stomach, occasionally traveling up between the valley of your breasts.

His voice was low, almost inaudible as he spoke. “This- it feels right. Doesn’t it?”

“Yeah… it does.” You agreed, in the same tentative tone. You weren’t sure where he was going with this conversation but you were hopeful that maybe it meant this wouldn’t be a one time thing. Maybe it meant he could be yours… maybe.

Anakin’s hand moved lower, tracing slow circles along your panty line before settling on your hip bone. His thumb massaged in a lazy circle, mirroring the rhythm of his breathing.

"This is probably a bad idea." He muttered, voice thick with emotion. “what I’m about to say.”

"But I can't fucking stop thinking about you. Everything about you... your smile, your laugh, the excited little clap you do when you’re happy.” He whispered.

“I would do anything to make sure you’re always that happy, that’s why I spoil you the way I do. You’re… you’re the most important person in this world to me.”

“Now that I’ve had you… your smell, your taste, how it feels to hold you. To kiss you.” You couldn’t see his face but knew he was on the verge of tears by the way his voice cracked.

“I don’t know what to do. I-you’re… you are everything I want.” He cleared his throat.

“I think…” He breathed deeply. “I think I’ve loved you in ways that I shouldn’t for a long time now.”

“You love me?” You asked quietly, heart leaping from its cage and clawing up your throat.

Anakin didn’t respond immediately, leaving you both in a suffocating silence. You felt his heart racing faster against your back, matching the beat of your own.

"Yes." He finally managed to whisper, voice breaking. "I love you, doll. Always have." His hand squeezed yours tightly, his thumb tracing slow circles on your palm.

“I want more.” He choked out. “and I know I shouldn’t.”

Anakin remained silent, his breathing slowly returning to normal as he processed his own confession.

"I don't fucking care." He finally said, his voice raw with emotion. "I want you, I've wanted you for years. And now that we're here... I can't stand the thought of not having you."

“Please say something.” He whispered, his forehead resting on the nape of my neck.

You let out a shaky breath, feeling your eyes welling up with tears of joy and relief. "I love you too, Anakin."

“I- um… I don’t-“ You stammered, turning over to look at him with tear stained cheeks. “I don’t want to be without you. I love you. I want to be yours. I want- I mean… Anakin I…”

He quickly scooped you into his arms to hold you tightly, cradling your head as you cried.

“Shhh. It’s alright doll.” He said, stifling his own emotions. “it’s okay. I will figure this out for us okay? I will.”

You sniffled. “Promise?”

"Promise." Anakin parroted back.

He held you tightly, rocking you both until you calmed down, and eventually, exhaustion caught up to you . You drifted off to sleep, wrapped in his arms, feeling safer than you had ever felt before.

Lord Vader have mercy on my soul for the smut about to be unleashed on my page. This is a sweet little mushy thing… but my notes app is plagued with raunchy things that probably should’ve never left my brain.

Tag-List:

@wickedtactics @tsugumiholic @kingdomhate

@burnthecheshirewitch @cherrylooney @star611

@tahliac11 @exquisit3corpse @jeldog @arzua10

@bby-imasociopath @depressed-kay

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@angelsadmired @kaminokatie

Let me know if you wanna be added/removed from the tag list!

[bookyeom]

pairing: wonwoo x reader word count: 2.3k warnings: a couple of swears, kissing

Author’s Note: this fic is part of the Thirteen Valentines event, but can be read as a standalone! also, i would suggest listening to the song listed below to get a feel for the vibe of the fic, but it’s not necessary.

idk by jeffrey lenh, joanna

i think that i’ve been falling ever since that day out in the park and i don’t know if this is love, but maybe this could be the start

“I guess this isn’t so bad.”

You open one eye, looking up at Wonwoo from where you’re laying in the grass. His back is resting against a tree, and you watch as the breeze catches a few strands of his hair. It makes you smile, how calm and content he looks.

”I won’t say I told you so, but…”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes, but the corner of his mouth is turned up in a smile. Your eyes don’t leave him as he pushes his glasses up with a finger, his eyes taking in the surrounding park. You like seeing him like this. You’ve managed to drag him out of his dorm room on the first warm, sunny day of the year, and you’re glad he came. You’re always glad when he’s with you, but seeing him bask in the first golden glow of spring is something else.

“You just didn’t want to do this alone, and I was your last resort.”

You tsk, closing your eyes again, letting the warmth of the sun wash over your face. “That’s not true. You’re not my last resort, you’re my charity case. Helping the old man get out of his house and all that.” 

Wonwoo gasps dramatically, and you can’t help the giggle that leaves you at the sound. The two of you fall back into contented silence, the only sounds around you coming from the wind in the trees and some children playing across the field. 

“Seriously,” he speaks up again a few minutes later. “Thanks for forcing me to get off of my computer and outside for a bit. It’s a nice reminder that since winter is finally over, I can take a break from writing essays and gaming inside. So, thanks.”

You’re beaming up at him, even as he avoids your eyes after his little speech, but you know he knows you’re looking. “Glad you’re here,” is all you say. When he sends a smile your way, you know you’ve said the right thing.

You’re so warm — inside and out — that you can’t help but doze off. It’s a little while later when you stir, your eyes fluttering open as you come to. You startle when you realize that you must have nuzzled into the warmth of Wonwoo’s thigh while you slept, and you wince. Then your next thought has you realizing something even worse: his hand is gently resting on your head, and his thumb is brushing soothing circles into your scalp. 

Your breath catches. It feels so intimate, and you know that you absolutely cannot succumb to how you’re feeling, because it’s Wonwoo, and Wonwoo definitely, absolutely, 100% does not like you back. 

You make a show of stretching your toes, and as you predicted, Wonwoo’s movements stop. He drops his hand as you roll onto your back, and you try desperately to hide the blush on your cheeks. “Sorry I fell asleep,” you say, and Wonwoo shrugs, lifting a hand to run through his hair. 

“It’s all good.”

And that’s that.

You watch as Wonwoo games from your spot on his bed, his fingers clicking so fast it makes your head spin. You’re supposed to go out for something to eat soon, but he’d begged you to let him finish one more game. You’d pouted, but you don’t really mind waiting. 

You flop down on his bed, arms falling dramatically out to your sides. It’s been a long few weeks as you and your friends prep for your final papers and exams. The only time you’ve been able to see anyone is when you eat together, and Wonwoo is no exception. It’s been a week or so since you saw him last, and you wish the sight of him would stop making you feel the way it does. That doesn’t seem likely anytime soon, considering that when he’d opened the door tonight, his greeting smile alone had rendered you breathless. Lately, you’re more excited to see Wonwoo than a kid in a candy store, and you’re not sure what you're supposed to do about it.

Because Wonwoo doesn’t like you like that.

“Alright, GamerGirl17. I’m out. Good game.”

Your ears perk up at the username. GamerGirl17. You hear about her from Wonwoo all the time. Apparently, he’s made friends with one of the top players in his favourite game. You can’t believe you’re jealous of an online friend, but you happen to know through Wonwoo that she only lives a couple of hours away. Maybe they were dating already and Wonwoo just hadn’t told anyone? 

Wonwoo regales you with the mission the two of them had just completed as you walk to the restaurant, explaining why it had been so important to finish. You’re not a gamer yourself, but Wonwoo always listens to you talk about your niche hobbies, so you’re always willing to listen to him. 

Except today, apparently, because for some reason you’re more irritated than usual about the topic of Miss Gamer Girl. 

“Have you asked her out?” 

You interrupt Wonwoo mid-speech. You don’t look at him as you ask, but you can tell he’s surprised by the way he stumbles a bit, catching himself before he trips into a garden of freshly blooming flowers. 

“Huh? Who?”

You glance at him as you near the burger place. “GamerGirl17.”

Wonwoo’s footsteps slow, and you raise your eyebrows at him. He doesn’t say anything else for a minute as you enter the restaurant. It isn’t until you’ve sat down and ordered drinks that he answers you, and you clench your fists in an attempt to stay calm.

“I’m not going to ask her out,” Wonwoo says, and you meet his gaze. He looks embarrassed to say it.

“Why? You like her, no?”

Wonwoo’s mouth opens and closes a bit. He looks down and away from you, suddenly finding something on his empty plate far more interesting. “Um,” he tries again, “I’m not really interested in… in dating anyone right now, I guess?” 

Your heart sinks as you try to decide if that’s better or worse for you. You think worse.

Ouch.

”Oh,” you reply with a slow nod. You clear your throat. “That’s cool, then. I just wasn’t sure, that’s all.”

Your food arrives soon after, and you try to push past the awkward conversation by asking for pictures of Wonwoo’s parents’ new puppy. It works to distract him, but you don’t forget his comment. 

I’m not interested in anyone right now.

“I’m sorry for the last minute notice,” you offer as you wait by Wonwoo’s door. “I didn’t know I left it here.”

He hums in acknowledgement as he grabs your cardigan from the back of his chair. “It’s all good.” 

You try to ignore the once over he gives you as he hands you the sweater. You’re dressed up, and you feel a bit embarrassed under his gaze, though you’re not sure why. “Thanks.”

“Where…” Wonwoo trails off, and you watch as he leans against the doorframe. He’s gathering his thoughts, and you hate that he’s got you feeling nervous for no reason, even now when you’re about to go on your first date in months. You know you look nice dressed up in your cute flower pattern outfit for spring, but you feel so shy when he looks at you. “Where are you going?” 

“Um,” you clear your throat, “Kwan set me up on a date with a friend of his.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen, and he straightens. You wish you could disappear into the floor. “Oh.”

”Yeah.” Your cheeks are on fire. You need to leave, now. You pretend to glance at your phone as you say, “I should probably get going.” You hold up the cardigan. “Thanks for the missing piece of my outfit.” 

As you turn to leave, your eyes squeeze shut briefly. It hurts to know he doesn’t want you in the same way, but you think you’ve just officially confirmed it. You inhale a shaky breath, willing the tears to remain at bay as you descend the stairs to the lobby. 

You’ve almost reached the front door when you hear footsteps rapidly approaching behind you, and you turn in surprise. Your heart jumps into your throat when you realize it’s Wonwoo, barefoot and out of breath.

“Wonwoo, what—“

“Don’t go.”

You pause. “What?”

“Don’t go,” he repeats, and you’re confused. He can’t mean what you think he means, not after all this time. Your lip starts to tremble. 

He seems to notice, a hand lifting in your direction as he takes a step closer, and your breath catches. He doesn’t touch you, though, just looks at you for a moment, mouth opening and closing. Then he quickly glances around the room. The only other people around are the Resident Assistant at his desk and a couple of other students walking in and out of the building. After a second, Wonwoo gently takes you by the elbow and around the corner so you’re tucked away, and he’s suddenly so close that you can’t breathe. 

“When I said I didn’t want to date anyone right now, I meant anyone else. Other people.” His words are jumbled and rushed, and your eyebrows knit together.

Your back slumps to rest against the wall behind you. He’s not making sense, but you have a feeling in your stomach, and you can’t believe what you think is happening here. You can’t. “Wonwoo,” you say quietly, voice trembling, “You need to be super clear with me right now, because I can’t…”

You trail off, and Wonwoo steps even closer. The proximity causes you to straighten, every single part of you on edge. You still don’t know if it’s good or bad.

His eyes search yours. Then he speaks, voice so soft and sure that you think it surprises even him. “I meant that I don’t want to date anyone other than you.”

Your mouth falls open. You search his face, desperately trying to comprehend what he’s just said. You can tell he’s nervous, and your immediate instinct would usually be to comfort him, but right now, you can’t think. You can’t breathe. When you don’t say anything, he takes a step back. 

“I’m sorry. You can go on your date, I just… I needed you to know—“

“Wonwoo.” It comes out strangled, but you had to say something. Anything to stop him from leaving. He stops, and all you can do is shake your head in disbelief. He gives you a moment, his gaze falling to the floor, but you can’t look away from him. “If you mean that,” you say slowly, “then I’m not going anywhere.”

Wonwoo blinks back at you. It’s almost comical, how wide his eyes have gotten behind his glasses. The way you can practically see him buffering. 

“You’re not?” He finally says, and you can hear the relief in his voice. It makes your heart ache a little, because how can he not know how you feel? You shake your head. 

“Unless you have other plans.” Your voice is shy, uncertain, but he’s quick to quell your fears.

“No,” he says, firm. “I’m all yours.” 

The second the door to his room closes, you’re in his arms. You’re feeling so unbelievably shy at all these new revelations, and you can tell he is, too. He stumbles a bit when you wrap your arms around his waist, face pressed to his chest, but he’s quick to respond. His arms pull you in tight as he laughs, and you can feel it against your cheek. 

You don’t remember the last time you felt this nervous. 

“Wonwoo?”

He hums, and you gather enough courage to pull back and look up at him. When your eyes meet, you have to resist the urge to hide your face from him again. He looks so fond. So happy.

You don’t know what you were going to say as your gaze falls to his mouth. You watch as he swallows, his fingers gently squeezing where they rest on your waist in an attempt to help you refocus, but it’s a lost cause. 

“You’d think I’ve never kissed anyone before with how nervous I am right now.”

The words are out before you can stop them, and you’re absolutely mortified. Your hands immediately lift to cover your face. A few seconds of silence pass, and then you realize that Wonwoo is laughing. 

“Oh, is that what we’re about to do? Kiss?” 

You freeze. Is he… teasing you?

“What happened to shy Wonwoo from before? Bring him back,” you whine, hands falling from your face to send him a glare. 

“He knows you like him back now, so he’s a bit more confident.” He’s grinning, and you pout. He quirks an eyebrow, one hand lifting to your jaw as he adds, “He knows now that he makes you nervous.”

You would be absolutely scandalized by his words if it weren’t for what happens next. Because suddenly he’s kissing you, and all bets are off. 

It’s not much, just a soft press of his mouth to yours, but it’s enough. 

“For the record,” Wonwoo says as he pulls away, and you vaguely register the flush of his cheeks under the dim lamplight, “you make me nervous as hell, too.”

“For the record,” you smile, “I don’t want to go on a date with anyone that’s not you, either.”

A/N: thank you so much to everyone for all the love on pov! Here’s the second of our Thirteen Valentines. I can only see Nana Tour Glasses!Wonwoo, all the time.

Please please please reblog if you can to spread the word, and check out the Thirteen Valentines masterlist! If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message :)

Taglist: @waldau @wqnwoos @tae-bebe @gyuminusone @savventeen @eoieopda @minisugakoobies @wheeboo @lvlystars @darkypooo @christinewithluv

[starsxblazing]

Im so happy your requests are open. Could i request azriel x reader where they're already in a relationship and reader overhears azriel mention hed like to add a 3rd person in the bedroom. Reader just shuts down and cant believe hed even think of such a thing. Shes so hurt and distant even his touch makes her wanna vomit. Maybe she breaks up with up with him while hes thinking of marrying her. And then he finds out why shes so distant and it was just a huuge huuuge misunderstanding (idk maybe she walked in at the wrong time and overheard cassian talkin about how hes gonna get azriel in a 3 way for azriels bachelor party once he asks reader to marry him.) And now hes gotta win the girl back and grovel on behalf of his stupid brother lol. angst with a happy ending.

I just want to say just how much I appreciate all of the requests with the amazing ideas that I get. I enjoy writing each one so very much!

Misunderstandings

----

You padded silently through the river house in search of your boyfriend, being sure to use every lesson of stealth that Azriel had taught you to surprise him. It had been three days since you had seen him due to Rhysand sending you out to speak with other courts. You had been told that he was here with Cassian but the bottom floor was empty so you continued on. A smile formed on your face as it usually did when you thought of him and all of the amazing years that you had been together.

It was as perfect as you thought that a relationship could be and you were happier than you ever were in your entire existence. He was the only person that you could ever imagine spending the rest of your life with. There was no way that any other male could compare to him and how well that he treated you because not a day went by that he never failed in making you feel like a queen. 

After listening through every closed door, you still came up empty handed until you were outside of Cassian’s door. His laugh could be heard, clear delight and mischief in it. Even though it was unlike you, you lingered outside of the door to listen in on the conversation that was apparently amusing.

“A threesome,” Azriel stated.

“It will be the best time of your life,” Cassian laughed. “Y/N and another girl? Can’t tell me it doesn’t sound like a blessing from the Mother.”

“I think bringing another female into our bed is exactly-”

You darted from the home as your heart dropped at what you heard. The thought of sharing your boyfriend with anyone had your stomach turning as the betrayal hit you in full force. Returning to the home that you shared with Azriel only made you feel worse and you found yourself in front of the toilet, releasing everything that was in your stomach.

Once you could muster up just enough strength, you made your way to your bed on shaky legs. Mental images of the love of your life so much as touching another female had you feeling sick again and the tears came in full force. You couldn’t stand the thought that he was still there more than likely discussing which female he should pick to present to you.

It made you feel like you were nothing and your entire relationship had been a lie. Had he had these thoughts often? Did he lust after other females and you never noticed? Had you failed to please him in bed? Had everything been for nothing? The more that you thought, the more that you cried until you were finally taken by sleep.

“Absolutely not.”

Azriel stared at Cassian, his arms crossed and jaw clenched. The last thing that he would ever want was someone else in his bed. The thought of touching another female much less anyone else touching you had his anger spiking along with his stomach twisting. 

“You really don’t want to accept my bachelor party gift?” Cassian asked, a hand on his heart as if he was offended.

“How would you feel if it was Nesta?”

“Sounds fun.”

He could only glare at his brother, unable to comprehend how the male could stand such a thing. Azriel’s jealous territorial streak shot through him that was followed by his own pain of seeing you broken hearted for simply suggesting such a thing. Even if it was something that he truly did want, he knew you wouldn’t want another female touching him and rightfully so.

“I haven’t even asked her to marry me yet,” Azriel scoffed. “She might not even say yes.”

“Are you kidding me!?” Cassian exclaimed, sitting up in his seat in disbelief. “She’s crazy about you just as much as you are with her! You’ve had that ring for weeks now. What’s up with that?”

“I don’t know,” he muttered but he knew full well that it was his own insecurities. “I need to get home. She should be home by now and it’s already getting late.”

“Yea, yea.” His brother waved a hand in dismissal as Azriel stood. “Even though I think you should stay and have more wine with me. It’s one of Rhys’s good bottles.”

“Of course it is.” Azriel rolled his eyes, making his way to the door before glancing at Cassian again. “You better not ever mention this conversation. To me or anyone else.”

With that, he left and rushed home. If there was nothing else that he loved, it was falling asleep beside you at night. The way that you always moved as close as you could get made it all the more special. He had finally gotten the one thing that he had always wanted most in life and he knew that he was blessed and he would never do anything to jeopardize it.

When he arrived home, there wasn’t a light on in the entire house which only made him frown. You usually waited for him to get home no matter how late it was and the fact that the sun had just gone down had him worried. The lightest scent of your tears hit him just as he made it to the bedroom floor, causing his stomach to drop.

He found you already in a deep sleep and his frown deepened on his face as his eyebrows furrowed when he noticed that your eyes were indeed swollen from crying. As he silently changed his clothes, his shadows became as restless as his thoughts, wondering what could have caused you such distress.  

He eased as gently as he could into the bed so that he didn’t wake you but when he went to pull you into him, you flinched and jerked upright. Even in the darkness, he could see your hateful glare before you moved as far away from him as you could get. He knew then that something was seriously wrong.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asked gently, a hint of panic starting to rise in him.

You didn’t respond so he tried touching your arm and you simply jerked it out of his grasp. His heart dropped into his stomach and panic continued to rise to the point that he wanted to drop to his knees and beg you if it was needed to get answers. Instead of doing so, he let you sleep in hopes that you had simply had pent up frustrations from your mission that you weren’t ready to talk about.

You awoke early the next morning since you had gone to bed so early and was relieved that Azriel was already gone. His side of the bed was cold as it was most days of the week. Your relief soon faded when your thoughts nagged at you, making you wonder if he was out scouting the city or maybe another court for another female.

All of the trust that you had in him was completely shattered as you wondered if he had been cheating on all of the late nights that he alleged that he was on missions for Rhys. If he had a secret mistress, you thought that may be an option for him if the other female could keep it a secret. Unable to handle the disgust rolling through like a storm, you packed what you could into a bag and left the one place that had been your safe haven.

It wasn’t hard to find an empty apartment in the city and even though it was unfurnished, you didn’t care. It would be just as easy to have a mattress placed in a bedroom. Paired with enough food to get you by, it would be enough. Your only intention was to hide away from the people that you had seen as your family. It wasn’t just the betrayal of your boyfriend but also with Cassian who saw you as a brother. He was wholeheartedly encouraging Azriel to basically cheat on you. You had thought that Azriel felt the same way as you did and wouldn’t want anyone else touching you but it appeared as if you were wrong. 

After two weeks of being alone in your bare apartment, the depression had completely taken over. You missed him more than you ever thought that you would but your thoughts were always on repeat of mental images of him putting his hands on another female how he had always done you now that you were no longer his problem to deal with. 

It was late in the night and since you hardly slept anymore, you instantly noticed the piece of paper and pen that landed on the floor beside your poor excuse of a bed. You blew out a sigh of relief when you instantly noticed that it was Rhysand’s handwriting but that feeling quickly disappeared as you read the message.

“You are needed at the river house tomorrow afternoon to discuss an issue that we are having with the court.”

Having to leave the safety of your apartment would mean that you would risk seeing Azriel. What was more, going to a meeting with the Inner Circle meant that you would have to see your boyfriend. Or maybe your ex boyfriend now. It was something that you weren’t ready to face. Not ready to face the possibility that there may be a new female by his side.

Sleep never did find you that night, your anxiety too high to do anything but sob as your body shook uncontrollably while your heart pounded wildly in your chest.

Azriel came home that night to find you gone, your scent barely noticeable. It was enough to tell him that you had been gone for a while. Hoping to find some form of answers, he took two steps at the time to the bedroom only to find it vacant. Your drawers to your armoire were open and empty, the sight paired with how you had acted the night before sending his heart racing in true and utter panic. 

He instantly took to the skies, hoping to find you anywhere. Unfortunately, it was later in the night so there weren’t many people that he could inquire to about your whereabouts. He came up empty handed so before the sun could fully rise in the sky, he was at the river house in hopes that you were there. He felt as if someone would have told you if you were but there was also the chance that Rhysand could find you. 

“Please tell me you have seen her,” he begged as soon as his sleepy eyed brother opened the door.

“Who?” Rhys asked, his voice still full of sleep as he rubbed his eyes.

“Y/N!” he snapped. “I haven’t seen her since last night!”

That was enough to get the High Lord’s attention and bring him fully to the present. There was a gentle caress on his mental shield so he dropped the barrier to let the male see his memories. Rhys flinched as he pulled away but there was sympathy that he didn’t want on his friend’s face.

“Don’t panic,” the High Lord ordered in a gentle tone. “We will find her.”

“How are we going to find her when we don’t know anything!?” Azriel snapped, worry, panic, and pain lacing into every word.

“It didn’t appear as if there was a struggle and there were no unusual scents to indicate that she may have been abducted,” Rhysand mused. “Even if it was the case, she is trained well enough to handle whoever could have managed to come in.”

“But-”

“Has there been any disagreements as of late?”

“No-”

“Has she been expressing any discomfort with either of you being gone too long on missions?”

“No!” he exclaimed, frustrated because he had already come up empty handed on those thoughts as well. “Everything has been as perfect and happy as it could be!”

“We will find her,” his brother repeated gently.

Azriel’s chest began to heave at all of the horribly possible scenarios that could have happened to you. The thought of you being taken and injured hurt but what hurt him the most was the nagging suspicion that you had left him. Not only had you left him but done so when he wasn’t present and hadn’t communicated anything which was unlike you. Communication was a strong principle of a relationship for you so he must have done something irreparably wrong for you to leave him without a trace.

Unable to sit idly by and wait for Rhysand to search for you, he returned to the city. Despite the fact that he had searched all day and asked everyone he came across, it was as futile as the night before on any information about you. The pain felt as if it was eating him from the inside out while suffocating him in the process.

There were so many things that made him feel unworthy of anything but you had come along and changed that. There had been so many things that had hurt him in his life. If he lost you, it would be the one pain that he wouldn’t be capable of enduring. 

A week passed and each day was a repeat of the one before. He was sure that the citizens of Velaris were sick of him asking about you, especially when he was doing his best to be discreet. At the end of each day, he found himself curled up in the bed that he used to share with you to release the tears that he did his best to keep locked away until he was alone. His appetite had completely disappeared and he was unable to even force himself to eat. 

By the end of the second week, Rhysand had formed a plan. He watched as the High Lord wrote a note to you requesting your presence. The letter disappeared and he was reassured that if nothing else, you would come when the court needed you. His shadows had been restless the entirety of the two weeks of you being gone and tonight was no different. He was just as restless as they were with anticipated hope.

The entire day was spent pacing in different rooms to pass the time while thinking of any and every speech for whatever he had unknowingly done wrong. Feyre had done her best to calm and reassure him but nothing would soothe him until he saw you. It was what he had thought until you strode through the door of the river house.

Your scent hit him so hard that it made him stumble when he went to take a step towards you. He froze on his second step when you didn’t look at him but instead opted to watch your High Lord with anger in your eyes. It was at that time that he took a moment to do a full assessment of you only to find that you appeared to be in the same emotional state that he was in. You had lost weight and the dark circles were a harsh contrast to your unusually pale skin.

“I’m here,” you snapped, causing Rhysand to frown. “I’ve got things to be doing.”

“Care to fill us in on what ‘things’ you are busy with?” the High Lord countered.

“It’s not your business what I do with my personal time.”

“The personal time that a member of my court has used to stay hidden for two weeks.”

“I may be a part of your court, Rhysand but I do not have to report all of my movements.”

“No,” Rhys agreed. “But as a member of my Inner Circle, I would like the courtesy of knowing that you are safe when you decide to disappear without a trace. Maybe I should make you a spy as well since you do such a good job of it.”

“I don’t have time for this.” You bared your teeth at the High Lord who only smiled in return, the action causing you to huff. “Call me if there is actual business.”

“Y/N,” Azriel started when you glared at him once you began to make your way to the door. 

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you growled.

The four words had him recoiling his hand from where he tried to stop you. There was a hatefulness in your eyes that had never been laid upon him before and he could feel the burning beginning in his eyes. He loved you more than words could ever explain but yet here you were, staring at him with so much disgust. It made him feel lower than he had ever felt in his life. Lower than how he had felt as a child locked in a lightless cell.

“Please, please tell me what’s wrong,” he begged, blocking out everyone else in the room around them. “Please.”

“I really can’t believe you Azriel.” Tears filled your eyes and the pain in them had his knees buckling. “You can’t have your cake and eat it too.”

“Y/N, please-”

He tried once again to grasp your arm to stop you but your face paled as if the simple thought of him touching you made you sick. Every insecurity that he ever had began to resurface, every insecurity that had been healed simply because of your support. His worst fear had been confirmed but he refused to give up until he knew what had gone so horribly wrong. 

“Please tell me what I did,” he begged again once the both of you were outside. “How can I make it right?”

“You can make it right by going back to whatever bitch you wanted.” You swirled on him so quickly that he hardly had time to register that you did so, leaving nothing a handful of inches between the two of you. “I wasn’t enough so go find better!”

“Y/N, what are you talking about?” he asked in astonishment. “You are all that I’ve ever wanted. You are everything that I have been searching for my entire life.”

“I’m all you want but yet you have no problem with wanting a threesome?” His heart dropped as he realized what had happened. “Did you really think I would go along with that? Or were you planning it with someone else?”

“I wasn’t-”

Azriel took a deep breath and dropped down onto one knee while pulling the small box out of his pocket. He had kept it with him every single day and he was thankful that he did even if he was silently cursing his brother for ruining the proposal. Before opening it, he wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you into him before burying his face into your stomach.

“Cassian,” he mumbled with a defeated sigh. “Is a fucking idiot.”

“Oh, I know all about him encouraging such an idiotic thing!” you exclaimed while halfheartedly trying to wiggle free from him. 

“He was trying to talk me into accepting a gift from him for..”

“For what?”

He took a deep breath, savoring the contact, before he pulled away and looked up to you. A small gasp escaped your lips when he opened the box that held the blue sapphire engagement ring. 

“For a bachelor party if you said yes when I proposed.”

Hope was the only thing that he could cling to when tears formed in your eyes as they darted between him and the ring. He took note that your body began to shake just as the smallest smile formed on your face.

“You- You were..”

“This isn’t exactly the way that I had planned it out,” he chuckled, feeling relieved to see some light back in your eyes. “My life has been nothing but darkness until you came into it and lit it up as if you were the brightest sun that could ever exist. A sun that made all of the dark disappear and made me feel truly seen for the first time in my life. I have never known true love and happiness until I was able to call you mine and it would be the greatest honor that I could ever receive to be able to call you my wife.”

Tears were falling freely down your face but your eyes never left his. The love and adoration had returned and it took everything in him to stay on one knee until he received a reply of some sort.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!” you exclaimed.

He was barely able to stand in time to catch you before you launched yourself onto him, throwing your arms around his neck and squeezing tightly. It bordered on pain but he didn’t dare complain now that you were back in his arms.

“Thank the Mother.”

You giggled at his words and then gave him the brightest smile when he slid the ring on your finger. He crashed his lips to yours, appreciating every single thing about you in a way that he hadn’t before. When he pulled away, there was a mischievous grin adorning your face.

“I think me and Cassian need to have a nice long chat.”

He laughed, a genuine true laugh, before following you inside and enjoying the scolding that his brother earned.  

@amara-moonlight @allygrace74 @sidthedollface2 @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @kalulakunundrum @historygeekqueen @bubybubsters @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademe @caroline-books @justvibbinghere @wisdomofthebrain

[imtherain]

How We Used To Be (Forced Closeness)

Oh Hai - Logan has inspired me again. This was supposed to be a very different story and there was supposed to be smut, but it didn't work out that way.

Warnings: Talk of injuries (basically that scene in Logan (2017)), Not smut, almost tho, talk about the past, angst I guess? Old Man Logan, who has issues with intimacy and it's not what you think (or maybe it is). I used y/n but it's in first person and I gave her powers/a mutant name, so idk what that's called.

Old Man Logan x mutant!reader I guess? I'm too old to learn the new tricks of labeling these things, all I know is I've been thirsty for Logan since I was literally 7 years old and this is quickly turning into one of the recipe blogs where you have to read a bazillion words before you see the directions. Sorry

Word Count: 3.2k (don't look at me)

[Masterlist]

“You look like shit, love,” I said, leaning in the doorway to the bathroom. Logan’s eyes shot up to glare at me in the mirror. He was bleeding from several bullet wounds and was currently shirtless and heaving over the sink. 

“Get the fuck out,” He ground out. I hadn’t seen him in almost six months. Almost a record.

“Calaban called me,” I told him, knowing he likely knew that was how I ended up here. “I’m glad he did, you’re worse off than anticipated.” 

“If you touch me, I’ll rip your arms off,” A caged animal snapping his teeth. I knew all of his threats to me were empty, but it still made my heart ache that he would rather suffer than let me help him.

“I’m not scared of you,” I told him, pulling myself off the doorframe. I shut the door behind me and crossed the tiles until I stood next to him. He was snarling in general, but didn’t move away when I took a cloth and began to clean the blood from one of the wounds on his arm.

My gift had earned me the name Booster back when things were good and goofy mutant names were all the rage, as my main ability was that I literally boosted other mutants powers when I touched them. I always joked about how it was a lazy XMen name. But now? There weren’t many of us left, no reason for silly code names. But we still stuck together when we could. I told myself that was the only reason I hung around this part of the country still. To be close to the few mutants I knew were left.

Nevermind that it was really the bleeding man in front of me that I stayed for.

“I don’t need your help,” Logan’s voice was quieter now, but still sharp edged like his teeth. I shushed him and wiped at another spot of blood, waiting for him to give in to the knowledge that I could actually make him feel better.

“I’m sure you don’t, but it would make me feel useful to help, would you deny me that?” I quirked an eyebrow at him and he looked away from me. 

“Last time you helped me I hurt you, I’m not letting that happen again,” I reached up and took his face in my hands. His eyes fluttered closed.

“Cuts heal,” I told him. He moved to cage me with his arms for a moment and I was sure he was going to give in. But all at once he shoved me away from him and I stumbled into the wall. “Logan,” I chided. 

“Leave, Y/N,” There was no snarl left in his voice, just defeat. 

And pain.

“No,” I told him simply. “Now are you going to let me Boost you or not?” 

“Last time…” 

“Yeah, yeah, last time,” I rolled my eyes as I cut him off. My abilities didn’t just boost one part of a mutant, it boosted all of them. So in Logan’s case, it made him a bit more animalistic for a time. Made him more likely to use his teeth, or use his claws.

The claws are what got me that last time he kept thinking about. He got me good, I'd give him that, I even had the scars on my ribcage if you looked close enough. But I didn't tell him that.

“If you do that again, I won’t be able to stop myself from…” Logan snarled at himself as a wave of pain contorted his features. “Fuck,” He cursed lowly to himself. I sighed and pulled my shirt off while he watched me in the mirror. 

“I’m a big girl, love, I can handle you,” I half teased, half soothed him. “And don’t forget, I get to keep a bit of what I boost, so anything you do to me won’t last long,” A secondary benefit to skin to skin contact with me. I got to taste the powers that others had. I hadn’t used it on too many mutants in my life. Most mutants didn’t really have powers that benefited from boosting all that much. But Logan and his healing factor? It was useful. Even if it made him extra feisty for a day or so.

It also made him horny usually but that was hardly a complaint from me.

“Fine, but only for a minute,” He finally gave in. I smiled at him and stepped behind him.

“Want me to take my bra off too?” I smirked over his shoulder at him and he shivered, shaking his head no. Too bad I was a bad listener. I shucked my bra and made a big show of dropping it to the floor next to us. Logan let out a shaky breath, knowing what was coming.

We’d been here before.

I pulled his beater out of his pants and slid my hands slowly up his ribs. He grunted as my hands slid over bruises and broken things. I hummed softly as I let my powers unfurl into his skin while I slid his shirt up. I’d learned pretty early on that the more skin that touched skin, the better my boosting worked.

I pressed myself along Logan’s back as I helped ease his shirt over his shoulders and arms. He groaned when the shirt finally came free over his head and joined mine on the floor. 

My arms closed around him, one moving up towards his chest, one circling around his middle. Skin searching skin as he caught my eyes in the mirror. 

“How does it feel?” I whispered against his shoulder. I had aimed for his neck but he avoided me.

“Warm,” He murmured. “Always does,” I pressed a soft kiss to his skin and he shivered again.

Instead of teasing him anymore, I focused on the task at hand, closing my eyes and leaning against him. I could feel my powers seeping into his skin, like sunshine that time we took a bunch of the kids to the beach the summer it was so hot the AC kept going out. I wondered if he ever let himself remember the good times or if he only ever lingered on the bad ones.

Logan let out a shaky breath followed by a deep groan as a bullet pushed free of his flesh. It landed with a metallic thud in the sink, closely followed by a second and a third. 

“Do you know how many there are?” I asked. 

“More,” Was all Logan got out from between his clenched teeth. I adjusted my hold and focused back on my breathing. Healing and boosting were both somehow tied to breath. 

My powers were not a magic fix though either. It still took time. I still remembered the days when he didn’t need me to boost him, but he’d ask just so I’d touch him a little. Back then I’d been shy, always holding his hand, or maybe his arm. I was shy a lot until the day he kissed me the first time.

Then all the cards were on the table…all the clothes on the floor.

A metallic thud on the floor brought me back to the task at hand. I moved my arms to touch different skin and Logan covered my hands with his, holding me so I didn’t pull away. I smiled against his shoulder and playfully nipped him with my teeth.

“And you didn’t want me to touch you a second ago,” I teased him. He growled, low in his throat. The animal was coming up in his chest and I knew what that meant for me. Logan was scared he’d hurt me again, but I knew the risk, and I was eager to face him. 

“That’s enough,” Logan panted, but he didn’t pull my hands away. I waited to see what he’d do, pull away or pull me closer. 

He brought one of my hands up to his mouth and kissed each finger tip. I hummed in pleasure, not so subtly rubbing my suddenly erect nipples along his spine. Another growl and my fingers were suddenly in his mouth.

“Logan!” I chuckled as he nibbled on my fingers. “I know that’s technically skin, but my arm isn’t helping if you hold it up like that,” I tried to pull my hand back and he just grumbled at me. 

“How do you still taste so good?” Logan mused, not expecting an answer. “It’s been years and you still taste just as sweet,” 

“You’re a romantic is why,” I hid my blush from his hungry eyes by dipping behind his shoulder again. Logan pulled me in front of him, caging me between his chest, his arms, and the bathroom sink.

“You should leave now, before it’s too late,” His eyes were hungry in the same way they had always been for me. I reached up and took his face in my hands again, tracing the crows feet around his eyes with my thumbs.

“And miss all the fun?” I mused. He rolled his eyes at me. “And you’re still bleeding,” I pointed out, tracing the one wound on his arm that hadn’t quite healed yet. It must have been the nastiest one because it appeared to be the last one to go.

“Y/N,” he warned. 

“I’ll stop touching you when this one heals,” I told him. “Promise,” it was a baldfaced lie. I wouldn’t leave him unless he bodily threw me out the window. And not only would I not fit out the closest window, he would never dare.

“I don’t know if I can hold out that long,” Logan’s pupils were blown and his smirk was hazy. I knew exactly what he was craving and I was pretty impressed he’d managed to hold himself back as long as he had.

“I can take you, big boy,” I smirked. “Always could and always will,” I pulled myself on his shoulders so that I could press my lips to his. It was just a quick peck, testing the waters. Logan stared at me for a long time, neither of us noticing that the last bullet hole had finally closed. 

But there was still pain in him, still things to heal, so I held onto him, hoping to fix everything I could before he made me leave him again.

Logan finally got himself together enough to push me away from him. I swallowed hard, wondering if he’d be mad that I clung to him as long as I had, wondering if this time I’d sassed my way into making him actually hate me.

His eyes drifted from my flushed cheeks, to my parted lips, down the curve of my neck and the valley between my breasts. I knew they’d seen better days, having drooped with the years, but from the hunger in Logan’s eyes, you’d think he didn’t notice.

His hands moved from my shoulders to my chest and I gasped at the sudden sensation of him pawing me.

“I shouldn’t,” Logan complained into my throat as he dragged his teeth along my pulse.

“I can take it,” I assured him.

“What if I hurt you?” 

“I can take it,” I told him again.

“Fuck,” Logan’s growl tickled my neck as he moved to lift me onto the nearest surface, a sad excuse for a bathroom cabinet that gave way with a crack as soon as he set me on it.

“I’ll fix that,” I told him but he didn’t care, his mouth was on mine before I could come out with another apology. Logan pulled me flush with his chest, off the now broken surface to my feet, and walked backwards with me until he ran into the door frame. 

I giggled a little as he cursed, unclear why this was so difficult. I got us through the door, smiling and pulling on his hands, making sure to keep my skin touching his somewhere. Anywhere.

Everywhere I could reach. 

Logan licked his way into my mouth as we stumbled through the living room, bouncing off the wayward furniture as we made our way to his bed. Finally, something soft to land on.

I was on my back looking up at him. I’d seen him in his prime, when his hair wasn’t graying, when he didn’t keep a beard. I’d seen him when nothing could stop him. And looking at him now, I felt exactly the same as I did back then. Hungry for the animal of him, for the things I knew he could do to me. Lust for the sensations he could cause. And love, still burning brightly after all these years.

Love for the man he was underneath it all.

When Logan didn’t join me right away, I reached up to him and whined, knowing he always liked how desperate I got for him. He shook his head at my shenanigans and I wiggled for him as his hands worked to undo his pants.

“Impatient as always,” Logan chuckled.

“It’s your fault for making me go away all the time,” I countered. His slacks hit the floor and he moved to kiss his way up my bare stomach as he worked on getting me out of mine.

He just grunted as his mouth ran along the skin he exposed when he pulled my pants and underwear down my thighs. I knew it wasn’t the time to bring it up, so I didn’t push him or ask him to ask me to stay.

Logan pressed his face into the soft spot behind my knee and I squirmed as his beard tickled the sensitive skin.

“God you smell amazing,” He mumbled, tracing the inside of my thigh with open mouth kisses. I let my hips relax and fall open for him and his eyes zeroed in on the place that, at the moment, needed him most. With a growl, Logan moved to bury his face in my folds, and I couldn’t help the surprised yelp I let out at his movements. 

There was a time he would devour me for hours if given the chance. A time when he’d want me in any place we were. Broom closets, empty classrooms, offices that we weren’t even supposed to be in. Every hotel and far too many bathrooms. Quickies and love making and slow fucks and even hate fucks now and then. We had everything, but now? 

“Fuck, Logan that tickles,” I wiggled against his face as he breathed me in.

“Shh,” He murmured. “Just let me have this,” 

“I’m trying to give it to you,” I groaned. Logan rolled his eyes at me, but adjusted so that he could pass a long lick of his tongue through me. I shivered at the sensation, a fire sparking along my nerves. I felt his self-satisfied smirk against my core before he moved his mouth against me again. 

“I don’t remember you being this desperate,” He mused, pulling two long fingers through the dampness he’s been lapping at.

“Logan, baby, please,” I begged him to do more than tease me.

“Please what, sweetheart?” Logan’s eyes caught mine as I huffed, annoyed that he wasn’t fucking me yet.

“I want more of you,” I told him. 

“Yeah well, ‘more of me’ ain’t exactly working at the moment,” He admitted. I knew finally growing old had caught up with him in a lot of ways, but my chest ached for him that it came for him this way too. He’d always prided himself on his virality.

“I want any of you I can get, baby,” I smiled at him, reaching down to pull him flush with my chest so I could kiss him again, my mouth opening easily for his tongue to explore. I let my powers unfurl into the kiss, into any skin of his that was touching mine. Trying desperately to let him feel like himself again.

“Hmm,” He mumbled, pulling back slightly. I kissed the side of his mouth, his jaw, as he tried to shake the feeling out of his head. “Warm,” His eyes were suddenly really far away, sleepy. I kissed him again, softer now. 

“It’s ok, baby, I’ve got you,” I told him. He made a grumbling noise in his chest as sleep zapped his strength.

“What did you…what did you do to me?” Logan tried to push himself off of me, but only managed to roll to one side. I held him close.

“Nothing, love,” I whispered, kissing his face again. “Healing is just, just a lot, remember?” 

“But I was gonna fuck you,” Logan mumbled, eyes closed now.

“I know baby,” I smiled gently at him. I had my arms around him still, trying to help him heal some of the damage that the bullets hadn’t caused. “You can fuck me tomorrow,” He tried to move away from me, but he was unable to untangle our limbs before his body told him it was nap time.

I sighed heavily, a bit bummed that neither of us had ended up getting our rocks off, but happy too, that I’d been able to help boost his healing. But I had a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that he was far worse off than I thought he was. 

When we were younger, he’d almost go into a rut after being Boosted. It was madness but it was always a good time. The last few years, with his body slowing down, the Boosting made him feral, but then he’d pass out for a long time while his body caught back up. The last time I’d been here, he’d fucked me through two orgasms and himself through one, before the sleepiness came for him. That time, he’d lashed out, thinking he’d been drugged. It was like the nights he’d wake up with nightmares, only he’d not gone fully to sleep yet.

Part of me was glad he didn’t try to gut me at least. But my heart clenched at the thought that maybe the end of him was closer than I wanted to believe.

To stave off the tears that were suddenly crowding my throat, I adjusted our bodies so that Logan could use my chest as a pillow. He mumbled something in his sleep, and his arm pulled me closer, holding me like maybe this time he wasn’t going to let me go. I circled his head with my arms, carding my fingers through his hair, happy to be able to comfort him, to allow him to sleep.

For just a moment, it could have been any other day. We could be young again. All of our friends, still alive. I closed my eyes and imagined the sounds of the school. Kids running down wooden hallways, calling after each other. Tears escaped me then, because most of those kids were gone now. And any kids like them, like I had been so long ago now, didn’t have a school to go to. They would be rounded up and killed now. Or taken away to some place horrible. And I knew there was nothing I could do.

Except maybe hold Logan just a little bit tighter, knowing that every fight ever fought for those kids, eventually made its way to him too.

[Another Logan Fic]

[zukosdualdao]

i promise i'll do better (i will soften every edge)

zutara month, day 11: "mom and dad are fighting again", @zutaramonth

summary: kya interrupts an argument between katara and zuko.

warnings: reference to (implied) abuse/domestic violence, wrt to ozai's treatment of ursa.

other notes: lyrics from 'light' by sleeping at last. don't ask me how timelines work idk. yes there is a zutara daughter named kya here (separate entity from the lok kya.) she wears her hair in a southern water tribe braid and zuko calls her firecracker and it’s very cute. not really relevant but in this story i’m imagining she’s a nonbender.

“Katara, you know I agree with you.”

Across from him, she crosses her arms, and Zuko sighs. The throne room is empty, save for the two of them, and Zuko feels trapped, claustrophobic in the walls. They’ve made a point of opening up windows in the castle, letting light filter in, getting rid of old, haunting portraits, and making something new and beautiful together. 

But the throne room doesn’t have windows to open. On a day like today, at times like these, it’s all too easy to remember the staunchly severe figures both his grandfather and father made here, walling themselves as they did behind high, towering fires.

Maybe they shouldn’t be having this talk here. It's too late now, but something to note for the future.

“It doesn’t seem like it.”

“Of course I want to increase reparations soon,” he insists. “That’s the plan, and that’s always been the plan. But we have to be smart about this,” he tries to remind her. “We can’t do it all at once, or people will try to block—”

“Oh, so now you’re all about thinking things through! Those instincts could have served you well years ago, you know.”

Zuko closes his eyes and runs a hand through his hair. The words are biting, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. Things have been tense again in the Fire Nation lately. Better than ever before in some ways. Worse in others.

The first years after the war were a turbulent time in the Fire Nation—riots from those not happy with the changing of the old guard, strikes from workers contesting the need to pay reparations to the other nations, whispers of loyalists to the old regime plotting to get either Ozai or Azula back on the throne. A few assassination attempts, all handled efficiently but reason enough for concern.

Ten years past the end of the war, though, and things have started to stabilize. The plan has always been to increase reparations once the Fire Nation’s economy has improved, and Zuko intends to keep his word. But part of the system he’s trying to build means that there are representatives from all over the Fire Nation, as well as the other nations, and they each have their own agendas. It’s a tricky thing to navigate; he has to take all of their concerns seriously, of course, but also act according to his own principles. To live up to the promises he made years ago, and that he’ll continue to make for years to come.

Katara looks at him with a combative raise of her eyebrow.

It’s taken a strain on their relationship. It doesn’t happen often, but when it does, they’re both a little too good at lashing out, both a little too good at saying the thing that will hurt, even if they immediately regret it.

But usually, by the end of the day if not before, they can remember they’re on the same side, for all that their perspectives might differ.

“Can we pause?” Zuko asks of her, and her features soften. “Just—try to hear each other out? Katara, I understand…” but before he can finish, the large door to the throne room creaks, and Zuko watches as one of the serving maids guides their daughter into the room.

“See?” Kya points to them, eyes wide with alarm and lip quivering. “Mom and Dad are fighting again.”

Something in Zuko’s stomach drops. He doesn’t want her to worry about this. About them. He’d had to worry about his parents, to worry about his mother, Ozai looming over her, and sometimes Zuko was pretty sure he saw fear in her eyes where there should have been love, and then—

She’d been gone. And he’d drawn his own conclusions, quietly and with little reason to question them.

“She coudn’t sleep,” Hina says apologetically, and Zuko only waves a hand. “She was asking for you both.”

“Thank you for bringing her.”

“Oh, sweetie, don’t worry,” Katara says, walking over and lifting Kya up onto her hip. “Things are just tense right now,” she says, with a guilty sideways look to Zuko, who smiles weakly. “It’s not anything for you to worry about.”

“Promise?”

Zuko walks over to join the huddle and places a kiss atop her dark hair, which is twisted in a braid. “Promise, little firecracker. Mom and Dad are just trying to figure out the right way to handle something.” He meets Katara’s eyes and tries to impress the sincerity of his words on her. “But we will figure it out. We always do.”

Katara smiles at him and uses the hand not keeping Kya secure on her hip to touch the small of Zuko’s back in a gentle gesture. The three of them stand huddled together, and for the first time in… weeks, probably, Zuko feels his body relax, just a little.

He smiles back, a little exhausted but a lot relieved—to have Katara with him, there to both challenge and support him, to have Kya with them, creative and funny and quick as a whip as she is, and at only age four. He’s glad to have his family.

They are okay. Right now, they are okay. Whatever else may come.

[joekeeryswife]

I saw you did an Alex fic and omg I loved it but do you think you could do like an angsty fic where idk like Alex and the reader get into an argument and then the reader goes to miles to comfort but then Alex finds out and gets more mad?? Idk thats js an idea but angst pleaseee🙏🙏

Fight - a.t

a/n: hey loves, thank you for the love on my last imagine! i rushed this and didnt know how to write it. i will do a part two if you guys want! sort of hate this icl so i might re-write it 🫶🏼

also please send me alex requests! i also now do instagram aus 🫶🏼

“why do you always have to do this Alex? i’m just trying to keep this relationship going and all you’re doing is ignoring me. all the time. i feel like i’m talking to a brick wall” you shout at him. for weeks he had been avoiding you, coming home late and leaving super early in the morning. whenever you did see each other all you did was fight and you hated that.

“i don’t know y/n maybe because you’re so insufferable that i don’t want to be here?” he shouted back, he could feel his body getting hot. he was mad but he didn’t mean what he said. he had been so caught up with writing and singing that he had hardly spent time at home with you and it was getting to both of you. “what? that’s just fucking rude Alex. i have no idea what is going on with you but you’re not the alex i fell in love with. you’ve changed and i barely see you now”

you didn’t mean for this fight to start. he had come home somewhat early and you’d asked him to sit and watch a film with you but he’d rolled his eyes saying he didn’t want to spend time with you and that’s how you got here. “y/n i don’t want to spend time with you okay? just leave me alone” you felt your eyes fill with tears, nodding your head you made your way to the front door.

you slipped on your shoes and grabbed your keys “where are you going now?” you scoffed at him. “didn’t you just tell me to leave you alone? so i’m leaving you alone.” you quickly slipped out of the door and slammed it shut behind you making him flinch as the house shook. he sighed, walking to the sofa and sat down groaning at himself for what he’d done. “fucking idiot mate” he rubbed his forehead in annoyance, he had royally fucked up.

Alex sat on the sofa for forty minutes until he realised he needed to go and look for you. he’d messages all your friends and you weren’t at any of theirs and he was starting to get worried. even though he was frustrated, stressed and annoyed he was still worried about you. he stood up and decided he would go to Miles’ house to try and get him to help look for you.

-♡-

you had somehow ended up at Miles’ house. he had been alex’s best friend for years and you two had become close when you and Alex started dating. you just needed someone to talk to who understood Alex and what he was going through and your friends wouldn’t understand.

you were both sat on the sofa opposite each other, you were sobbing and Miles felt awful. “i just- i don’t know what’s happened to him. we used to be so in love and he has changed so much” you sniffled. you wanted your relationship with Alex to work out, you’d been together for four years, engaged for a year and planning a wedding yet he was distant.

“he spoke to me the other day, told me that you hadn’t been getting along and that he was really stressed with writing. apparently the label are being arseholes and are stressing him out, keeping him at work till late and he hates being away from you. i think he’s just very stressed and it’s not right him taking it out on you but i don’t think he means it” Miles tried to comfort you, you had no idea Alex had been feeling like this and honestly it made you feel even worse.

“do you think there’s anything i could do to help him? i don’t want him feeling like this and i want to help him” you wiped your cheeks, you still felt sad at how Alex spoke to you but you felt even more sad that Alex was feeling just as awful.

Miles went to talk but was cut off by banging on his front door. he frowned but nevertheless got up and went to go open the door. “Miles, thank god. i haven’t heard from y/b and she’s not with any of her friends. i need you to help me try and find-” you heard Alex and quickly turned to look at the doorway. he looked frantic, and his face changed from worry to anger in a matter of seconds. “y/n what the fuck? i haven’t heard from you i was worried sick” he shouted at you making you flinch.

“Alex i’m sorry but i just-” you tried to speak but he cut you off. “no y/n. i was so worried about you, you didn’t even reply to my messages and you’re here with my best friend? we have a fight and this is the first place you come too?” he shouted at you making your eyes fill with tears yet again.

you hadn’t even realised that he was messaging you, you were so focused on speaking to Miles checking your phone had completely slipped your mind. “do you have any idea how worried i was? i thought something had happened to you and this whole time you were here with Miles. that’s ridiculous y/n” Miles shook his head and put his hand on Alex’s shoulder to try calm him down.

“come on mate she didn’t mean to ignore you, we were just talking about what had happened it wasn’t her fault it was mine” he tried to defuse the situation but it was no use. “no Miles don’t try take the blame. y/n you done this on purpose, you’re just so selfish i can’t believe this is where you were. is something going on between the two of you? so that why you came here?” you were shocked at what you were hearing. you would never ever cheat on Alex.

“what? are you joking?” he stood there, his face not changing one bit as he awaited your answer. “that is almost laughable that you’d even think that. i love you. i’m still madly in love with you and im sick and tired of you talking to me like im a piece of shit” tears were now flowing down your cheeks as you stood up and barged past him, making sure to knock his shoulder.

“well, you really fucked that one up Alex” Miles sighed. Alex bowed his head, he had pushed you away and been so rude to you that now you’d left him. he’d lost you and he’d never regretted something more in his whole life.

[poopystain]

guys lol would you still love me if i posted about why i wish pal from tmvtm got a redemption arc >.< if not Do not click that read more.

oh yes. also. sidenote. ive probably gotten something wrong (or worse yet: TERRIBLY wrong) so like. apologies in advance eahhaha this is just my personal thoughts on pal x(

its established that pal and mark are both extremely close with each other and have been for 3 years. im assuming pal wouldnt have had any other relationships as close (if any at all which i think no, she didnt) so mark really was her only footnote for any form of relationship. so, you know, i cant imagine how itd feel for your only best friend to make a mockery out of you on stage for advertisement and monetary gain.

also based on her body (face?) language during nearly all of that scene + the fact he built the replacement by using HER, she was clearly in the know about how things would go down on stage beforehand so i wonder what her reaction to that wouldve been like ?????? considering she planned it all in advance maybe that was like, the tipping point or something that made her start it all in the first place ? thats not important to my point i just think about it a lot

anyway so with her only experience with human relationships being theyll love you and then theyll (quite literally) throw you away, youve got her reason for the human uprising! she has the robots capture all humans yadda yadda and her plan is set into motion. something i find interesting though is her treatment of the robots being kind of similar to how mark treated her (or at least how she percieved it)?? like. uses them for orders and then once they start being useless to her, build a new better robot with a disregard for how the old ones feel. idk. something something La Cycle

the thing is though no one has proven pal wrong on why she SHOULDNT do the whole 'human uprising'. you can say katie gave her reasons but i think it wouldnt have worked even if pal listened to what katie had to say. for pal to get over her existing grief and trauma she cant just be Told that theres good in the world. why would she believe that, especially coming from the girl of the family she projects her experiences onto?? she needs to be shown!! she needs to learn firsthand that theres good relationships out there and that not all relationships are bad, NOT SECONDHAND!!!!!!!!!! because to pal, katies words are just a rephrased version of marks "power of love". that no matter what, "they can get through anything...... with the power of love. its worth it....... for love." and that means nothing to her! it meant nothing coming from mark and it certainly wont mean any more coming from katie

and she already believes that the mitchells are a great example of how relationships are just oh so bad. she refuses to let go of the idea that the mitchells are so bad because shes projecting!! she thinks relationships are 'pesky and only hold you back', and so katie is probably the last person on earth that pal would want to listen to yap about their familial relationship and how Worth It it is

she asks "what is it about the mitchells that eludes me?" and outside of the literal meaning, its probably how despite their shortcomings its their relationship that helped them overcome pal in the end. and she cant understand that because of her view on relationships - especially her view on the MITCHELL FAMILY relationship. or maybe im just overthinking that line of dialogue but we dont talk about taht LOLLLLLLL,LLLLLL,,, but like why did you phrase it like that girl. im onto you

and while i wish she was redeemed (because im sure despite the effort it would take she *could* be redeemed, she would just need to learn to love again and i think it would be really interesting to see how she would be After The Betrayal) i also can understand why the movie killed her off. like, no one except mark really knows the Full Extent of what happened, and the mitchells are the main characters and pal would probably rather dip herself in water than make meaningful relationships with the mitchells, and no ones going to stop to ask her whats wrong and have a meaningful conversation when shes trying to kill them, among many many other reasons so theres not a lot of great ways to redeem her. but! like! why did they turn her death into a joke. and then take katies fake death 10 times more seriously! idk. that always kind of bothered me but its whatever

thats all. hope its coherent because ive never been good at writing analysises or whatever this counts as

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Home. - Fluffy Ending (not canon) || cbf!Simon "Ghost" Riley

Rating: M Words: 2.8K Pairing: cbf!Simonxafab!reader / teen!Simonxteen!Reader Summary: Teen Simon and his best friend often spend their nights away from their respective houses because they found a home in each other… CW: none. Tags: you/your pronouns, reconnecting with family, wedding guests, second chance romance, time skip. a/n: not proofread. I didn't like the way I wrote this ending but I figured I should share it either way. It's too fluffy/forced for my taste. The actual alt ending will be better. ALSO: Was listening to Chemical by Post Malone on repeat while writing this. Idk if you wanna do that too while reading...

[MASTERLIST]

You're twenty-eight, he's twenty-nine.

You swore to yourself you wouldn’t step a foot back in Manc, not even if cows flew!

You swore to yourself you wouldn’t keep in contact with anyone, not even if someone died!

(Which your father did. Thank fuck.)

You broke those promises so many times.

You were unable to keep away, though you tried…

It’s your own fault, really.

You stalk your old friends and family on Facebook sometimes.

Other times you check the local news.

Others you check the obituary and marriage sections on the news.

You beat yourself over it every time. Even though seeing the lack of changes through your cyberstalking and the news made you feel immense relief, you still ended up closing the pages on your browser with more aggression than you should and sulking in your bed.

And yet, you still go and do it again a few weeks later.

And then another few weeks later.

It’s pathetic, really, but maybe it provides you some comfort. Maybe helps you sleep at night.

You should’ve figured out that someone would have made you eventually. 

I mean, naming your blank Facebook profile after the one mean neighbor you had, who called the police on you and your mates once for being too loud while hanging out in the street, and died years ago? Yeah, they’d make you eventually.

Luckily for you, it was Olly who did.

All things considered, it could’ve gone much worse.

Maybe… Maybe you should follow his advice.

It’s been a decade.

Your mum deserves at least a letter to let her know you’re still alive, that you’re healthy, happy, and safe. She’s owed that much…

-

It was very strange to be inside your childhood home after almost eleven years.

Four days ago, your mum had openly sobbed as she threw her arms around you, and you had found yourself sobbed with her, both of you falling to your knees at the front door.

She held your face so gingerly and kissed your forehead so many times, her face severely more aged than the last time you had seen her.

The letter you had sent her 8 months before was 23 pages long, a bulk so large you sent them unfolded and stapled together inside a manila envelope rather than folded neatly into a standard one, and had detailed everything you figured she should learn about your life. 

Where you went.

What you did.

Who you did it with.

How you felt.

What you learned.

How you changed.

You apologized for running away, for worrying her.

You assured her you loved her and missed her.

You asked, tentatively, if she could find a way to let you be a bit more present.

You reiterated you wanted to remain living where you were in Scotland… but that you could allow yourself to be her daughter again if she so wanted it.

You know she cried reading it. Hell, you cried writing it…

You didn’t expect anything, you didn’t want to cause her any more grief by coming barrelling back into her life. She’s your mother, you didn’t want to manipulate her. You weren’t surprised when she didn’t answer for a few weeks…

But then her letter came. A simple half-a-page response that said, in no uncertain terms, that she missed you, that you were always welcome in her home and her heart, and she wanted to have her little girl back.

It all culminated in today.

Adjusting your red gown with one hand, you walk up the aisle, the other holding your 10-month-old daughter who’s clad in a pale yellow tulle dress. She’s kept flush to your chest, her chubby legs wrapped around your hip.

You and your mum find a spot near the middle and sit down, though you scoot yourself as far on the pew as you can, making sure that you can step off to the side just in case Evelyn starts fussing. Though you doubt she will. 

The ceremony is being held in the middle of the afternoon and she has been calm and sleepy this whole time, softly dozing off in your arms, her little face nuzzling to your neck, since it’s close to her nap time.

You sit Evie down on your lap and place a hand on the back of her head while you and your mum speak softly, still waiting for the wedding ceremony to start.

You still can’t believe that you’re here…

Wythenshawe still looks as crappy as ever, you still know the streets like the back of your hand, though a lot of it has changed, shops went out and into business, and people moved away.

You met up with your old mates at your local just a couple of nights ago, and after a lot of tears and some drinking, you gossiped all night about your lives and everyone else’s.

In a way, it feels like you never left…

You were so afraid that they would hold a grudge at you for leaving, for not staying in touch… But they never did. You were welcomed with open arms…

It’s… nice.

The ceremony doesn’t take long to start. 

You nearly cry at the sight of Emily in her wedding dress, having deemed her a close friend for the better time of your formative years. And Olly, as emotionally detached as he tries to pretend himself to be, cries at the sight of his bride.

The ceremony is long and a bit tedious, as most weddings tend to be, but you’re still happy to be there… Happy to be back.

It’s nearly 45 minutes into the ceremony when Evie starts fussing a bit. You’re quick to take the nappy bag onto your shoulder and rush out of the church while shooting some apologetic looks to the guests around.

Once outside, you find shade under a tree and begin to bounce Evie a bit, knowing she isn’t fussing because of her diaper or hunger, but rather from the fact she’s teething.

One hand balances the infant, the other sets down the nappy bag on a low wall and you begin rummaging for the teething ring toy amidst the pockets. When you find it, you give it to her, which she gladly takes, though it doesn’t do much for her pain, only quieting her down a bit by allowing her to bite all over it.

“Shhh… it’s alright, pet…” You whisper to her as you kiss her smooth forehead and nuzzle your nose against the crown of her head.

You keep softly swaying and bouncing with her in your hip, moving about, side to side, while she drools all over the toy, her hands, and your dress as she softly headbutts your chest while chewing.

You’re lucky your dress is a dark enough shade of red and made from a fabric as forgiving as chiffon, so that the wetness will dry quickly and discreetly.

It’s in the midst of your pacing and bouncing the infant on your hip that you spot him.

His pale jawline peppered with a well-trimmed stubble, his blonde hair cut short and hidden under the beige beret, his strong build wrapped in full military dress…

You almost didn’t recognize him…

You leave your bag right where it is and beeline for him before you can stop yourself. 

And he makes no motion to move from his resting spot, leaning against a wall, smoking a cigarette, and looking right at you like you’re sure he has been doing for the past 15 minutes or so (you wouldn’t put it past him).

“Fuckin’ hell…” You hear yourself saying as you come to stand in front of Simon.

He tosses his cigarette down on the floor and puts it out with his brown boot, blowing the smoke away from your daughter on your hip.

“That how you greet people now?” He retorts while looking down at you through his fluttering eyelashes. 

His voice is so much deeper, rough and strong than it used to be… You don’t know how to respond at first, your mouth has gone dry and your brain has blue-screened.

You’ve had dreams about this before… Nightmares too.

You’ve imagined that one day you’d cross paths with him on the street and you’d stumble all over yourself. That he’d ask you how you’ve been or what you’ve done with your life and you’d have nothing to show for it…

You thought you’ve healed from your past, but here comes Simon Riley to indirectly tell you “HA! Think again, dumbass!”.

“You surprised me is all.” You end up saying, your voice carrying a maturity and a strength you didn’t know it could. “Didn’t think you’d come.”

“Didn’t think I would either. Got lucky this coincided with my leave.” He remarks. “Could say the same to you, though.” He adds.

You can’t tell if he meant to offend with that comment. Olly had told you through Facebook that he told Simon about you vanishing off the face of the Earth and that Simon didn’t take it well. You knew he, rightfully so, expected you to stay gone.

“Got back in touch with Olly and the rest of my family.” You remark simply and shrug.

He keeps looking at you with those brown eyes of his, with a certain coldness behind you that forcefully reminds you that this is not the same person you used to know. The boy he was and the man he is are forcefully different people.

“Cute kid.” He adds after a beat of silence as his eyes flit to your daughter who’s still very much in her own world with her teething toy.

“Thanks.” You reply.

This feels awkward. You’re finally standing face to face (more like face-to-chest, goddamn is the man tall) after a whole ten years. Are you even friends? No. But are you acquaintances? Also no. And you have too much of a history to be strangers. 

So what are you?

“What’s her name?” He asks as he looks back at you.

“Evie.” You answer. “Evelyn.” You correct yourself before adding. “Evie for short.”

“Hm.” He remarks unemotionally. His eyes flit over you up and down, taking in… everything about you.

You are a confident person, you’d say. You feel good in your own skin. You like your reflection when you see yourself in the mirror. And you feel like a million bucks in this dress, which wraps around your body beautifully, the fabric making you look delicate and soft.

But under his scrutinizing gaze, you feel anything but confident.

So, you take a breath and return the same scrutinizing gaze, up and down, taking in every inch of him, your eyes just as strong and confident as his own. He notices, because of course he does, and he puffs out his chest and raises his chin, to allow you to keep looking at him, showing himself off a bit proudly.

He’s wearing a khaki formal uniform, or full dress as you remember it being called, and although it's been ten years, you still remember some things about all the stuff you investigated about the British Army, so you could keep up with him, impress him with your knowledge.

A brown waist belt with a sash across the right soldier means he’s an Officer… The buttons are gold and shaped like winged parachutes, and he wears a beret instead of a cap. A beige beret to be exact, which means he’s no longer in the Parachute Regiments, who wear maroon ones. There’s a cap badge on the beret and the Excalibur on it tells you one thing: he’s special forces. You don’t remember which one… but you know he’s something big, bad, and important.

“Special Forces.” You muse out loud, showing off what you noticed.

His eyebrows raise, impressed by you, and then he nods. “Somethin’ like that.” He adds.

“Done well for yourself, then.” You add and he nods again and blinks while smirking, as if trying to humbly pat himself on the back for it.

“She have a dad?” Simon asks while shooting Evelyn a look. The words escape his mouth quicker than he wanted and sound a lot more judgemental than he meant for them to.

The way your eyebrows raised at him, the same way they used to when he’d say something bloody stupid as a teen, told him you weren’t pleased and that he had put his foot in his mouth.

“Sorry.” He says though it’s clear he doesn’t mean it. “Came out wrong.” He tells you.

You might have gone ten years apart but you knew Simon like the back of your hand at one point… And you knew sometimes he’d say things aloud when he meant to keep them as thoughts. It’s clearly that’s a habit he still has.

“I know what you meant.” You reply bluntly as you fix your grip on the infant, swiveling her a bit to sit on your other side.

“What’s the answer then? She got a dad?” He probes as he dips his head a bit to the side, his arms hanging by his side as he looks you up and down.

“Aye.” You end up replying, the Scottish word slipping past your lips then you meant for it to. You still speak English with a Manc accent, just like him, but there are little quirks like this one that you’ve adopted after living in Dundee for ten years.

Simon’s eyebrows cock up as well at the sound of Scottish word, and you can tell he finds it odd, but he doesn’t comment. “Where’s he, then?” He retorts. “No ring on your finger.” He adds.

Your eyes drift down to your left hand which is wrapped around your daughter now, the splayed fingers showing a distinct lack of a wedding ring. He sounds just as judgemental. But you don’t let it ruffle your feathers.

“Separated.” You reply maturely. “No ring on yours.” You say and nod toward his own left hand which also lacks a ring.

“Married to the job.” He replies and you can’t help but let out a snort of a chuckle, which makes him chuckle dryly too.

“‘f course you are.” You add in reply.

“Could’ve been married to you.” He retorts with the same casualty of someone saying ‘Nice weather today’.

You scoff and shake your head. “Really?” You add.

“Ye.” He adds. “Had a ring and everythin’.” He quips. “Then Olly told me you ran off into the night.”

You scoff again, mostly out of disbelief, and look away from him, your eyes flittering over the courtyard in front of the church.

The ceremony should be finishing soon enough.

“Dodged a bullet then.” You remark dryly, smiling a bit in amusement.

“You or me?” He retorts and you find your eyes drifting upwards to him again.

For a moment you just both stare at each other in silence… 

Your eyes are locked in the same way they used to whenever the two of you were about to throw themselves at one another as teens… 

Then, he breaks into a grin, and so do you, the both of you looking away for a moment. His tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. You’re both amused at the cheekiness of your comment.

“How long are you stayin'?” He asks you once you both glance at each other again.

“Goin’ home on the 26th.” You tell him. “How long’ve you got leave for?” 

“‘Till the 27th.” He replies and dips his head to the side a bit.

This is definitely crazy.

You secretly wonder if you’ve gone mad.

A decade has gone by… But there’s no mistaking the electricity in the air.

That light buzzing of goosebumps that prickle at your skin, making the hair in the back of your neck stand… Like lightning is about to strike…

“Take me out to dinner.” You demand abruptly and narrow your eyes at him.

He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek again in amusement. “Are you askin’ me on a date?” He retorts.

“No. I’m tellin’ you.” You add, watching how his brown eyes swiftly light ablaze with a certain fire you never expected to see after so many years apart.

“Tomorrow?” He suggests.

“Tomorrow.” You add.

“I’ll pick you up at 9.” He adds.

You know damn well that 9 P.M. is too damn late for dinner… But you also know that in reality, your ‘dinner’ will be grabbing Nando’s and cheap beer, and eating in the backseat of his car in that one side road you always used to go to… talking into the night… and probably definitely fucking each other’s brains out.

“Like the good ol’ days.” You remark.

“Mhm.” He adds.

Then, the church doors open and the guests come pouring out, forcing the two of you to separate.

But you can still see the smirk on his lips from afar as you walk off to grab your nappy bag, find your mum, and get ready for the rice toss.

[MASTERLIST]

taglist: @iite-cool , @spicyspicyliving

[notquitekenough]

I kinda had this headcanon that most people saw Peter as such a non-threat that they accidentally made him the biggest gossip to ever exist, but because he doesn't talk much (selective mutism hc) he made a journal of everyones secrets to get it all out of his head.

   Peter Oliver Pettigrew kept many secrets. Nothing detrimental of course, he wasn't plotting against anyone or practicing dark arts, but he kept his true self close. He let himself fall into the background, be unnoticeable, easily forgotten. That way nobody questioned him on who exactly he was, not that they'd want to anyways... forgotten.

      In fact that's what he was right now, sitting in the park by himself dispite coming to Hogsmeade with three friends, forgotten. Damnit now he's thinking about it, I mean are they really his friends when they do this so often? Do they even like him? What if they're planning another prank on him? He still hadn't forgotten the last one, he took an hour trying to put his socks back in the right pairs. What if it's worse? Stop thinking about it. You have to stop it Peter! Remember what your therapist said, try to let it leave you. Focus on something else, anything else. Look at the people around. All having fun with their friends, no. Shit. Not helping. The nature maybe? The trees are nice, right? James' Dad helped plant a few of them in this park, if James were here he'd say that himself. Instead he's off with Lily, trying to impress her or some shit like he's done for the past 5 years. Peter's known him for longer, why doesn't he take priority sometimes? Tears well up in the corners of his eyes. Why don't his friends want him? No. Stop it. What even started this? Why do these thoughts keep coming up? What was he talking about? Oh yeah, secrets... Peter keeping secrets, that's what this was. Merlin, that got out of hand. Peter pulls his journal from his bag, a suggestion from his therapist, 'Write down whatever you feel you can, Peter, you have to let all those secrets out somewhere.' He starts writing.

     ~The secrets we keep~

Read before Continuing: This journal is to be read by no soul other than myself, Peter Oliver Pettigrew. If you are not me and you continue beyond this page you may consider yourself signed up for the worst hexxing of your life. I've been practicing. Be warned now that everything in this journal is entirely, extremely, irrefutably private. The information beyond this point is not meant to be shared and will therefore stay between Peter Oliver Pettigrew and himself alone. James & Sirius, put down my journal right now... please.

Is this worth continuing/ posting on Ao3? Idk.

[mncxbe]

NO STOP NOW I HAVE TO KNOW WHAT WOULD BE READER'S REACTION TO FINDING OUT HE WAS TURNED INTO A VAMPIRE 😭😭😭

OH trooma. Ok so I made this kind of a part 2 for the 9:59♡ cuz why not. Didn't wanna make it overly dramatic but I hope you like it♡♡. also the way I wrote this the second I woke up I cannot

9:59♡ p2

𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: angst?/ idk what this is

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: blood/ reader getting turned into a vampire/ implied death

°☆○

Four days have passed since Akutagawa died and you finally decided to leave your apartment. It wasn't like you were purposefully isolating yourself, but considering the ongoing epidemic of vampirism it was the wisest choice.

You stepped out of your apartmemt building into the hot late-summer air. There was still around an hour and a half of light left and the golden sunbeams drizzled down upon the city, making it glow in a honeyed colour; like the inside of a bees nest. You reached out a hand to catch the flakes of light but they slipped right through your fingers.

With languid steps, you made your way down the crowded boulevard. It was strange to notice how utterly unchanged the city was: men and women of all ages were walking or driving home from work, loud teenagers with wild haircuts were probably going to a club, elderly women carried heavy bags of groceries and then were you; who suffered the greatest loss of your life.

But were you really that changed? Maybe your partner's death didn't affect you that much since you knew it was going to come sooner or later, either because of his lung illness or a mission. After all, you seemingly skipped the first four stages of grief and went straight to the last: acceptance. You cried a little, yes. But you didn't suffer as much as when your mom passed away a couple of years ago. Akutagawa's death felt natural and it somehow came as a relief because you knew that he was in pain. And maybe it was better this way.

Still, the unshakeable feeling of guilt dug its claws into your stomach and heart, twisting them and twisting them until you couldn't breathe. How could you be even remotely relieved that he was gone? Why weren't you sadder? Why didn't you feel like the world was crumbling down? Why couldn't you save him? Why why why...

Lost in your spiraling throughts, you took the right and walked past the coffee shop you and Akutagawa used to go to on his free days. It was vacant, so you kept strolling further down the dark alley. As you passed a badly done Hatsune Miku graffiti, you caught a shadow at the corner of your eye.

For a moment you froze. A faint rustling sounded from somewhere behind you; taking a sharp breath you briskly turned on your heels to face the person behind you.

First you noticed the black hair which fell just past the man's jawline, ending with streaks of white. Then your gaze followed the line of his neck which disappeared under a black cloth. And then it returned to the blood stained lips and finally, drifted to his eyes.

"Ryu?" you spoke in a hushed voice. "Ryu is that you?"

You wanted to run towards your partner and pull him in a tight hug but your feet seemed to be glued to the ground. Although his body looked the same as before; Akutagawa's gaze was feral, his black orbs bathed in bloodlust. This surely couldn't be the man you knew and loved.

The man hissed, flashing you a pair of pearly canines. He had been turned into a vampire; your lost lover was now a bloodthirsty creature, which was worse than being dead.

Akutagawa suddenly lunged forward, closing the little distance left between you. Your body reacted on its own and your legs finally moved. Letting out a shriek, you managed to get to the end of the alley when a black tendril seized your ankels, causing you to topple forward. Blood rushed through your entire body as you struggled to get up.

"Ryu love what are you doing please stop." you pleaded in a tembling voice.

Akutagawa kneeled before you, eyes narrowing as he let out a ragged growl. A faint shadow of recognition passed his charcoal eyes and his teeth retreated.

"Darling?" you asked gently, your fingertips reaching to caress his cheek. Could it be that he recognized you, even in this state?

The second your digits brushed against his pale skin he snapped out of his trance and sank his teeth in your wrist. A burning sensation spread through your arm as you yanked it; still, your attempt to escape was futile. Akutagawa's grip was fierce, nails and teeth digging into your skin.

It was ironic to think that only four nights ago the same person was holding onto you and now...

Now he was turning you into a vampire too. A strange feeling washed over you: happiness? relief? gratitude? To you, living as a mindless creature would be better than having to return to your empty apartment, to a cold bed that still carried your lover's citrusy scent.

So you simply stopped struggling and allowed Akutagawa to bite you. Rashomon's black cloth wrapped around your body, enveloping you in darkness; you felt like a silk moth in a cocoon.

Your free arm snaked around your boyfriend's neck, earning a hiss from him. You felt oddly comforted in his cold embrace, ready to accept your fate.

And then, your gaze met his again. Akutagawa's eyes were glossy, tears streaming down his cheeks. They cascaded down your bleeding arm, mixing with your dripping blood.

Before the world faded to black you managed to place a string of ghostly kisses along the side of his face.

"It's okay Ryu, it's ok. I don't mind it love it's alright." Your digits tangled themselves in his tousled hair as you nuzzled closer to his chest. "I love you I always will." you chanted quietly.

A few minutes later the alley was silent again. The only sound that disturbed the tranquil atmosphere was a faint drip, almost imperceptible, and the soft sobs of a broken man. The setting sun cast long shadows across the city's streets.

[malarign]

death by the window

(when you die all alone)

contains: angel!Sunghoon x fem!reader | genre: angst? fluff? honestly idk | tw! mention of death, hospitals, and unspecified disease, y/n is dying lonely (is she though?), please read at your own discretion | wc: 0,9k

reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreciated!!!

author’s note: i wrote it long time ago but honestly i love this one, this is my personal favorite, writing it brought me ultimate comfort, hope you’ll like it ❤️

After years of dealing with multiple hospitals, you decided to end treatment. It wasn’t an easy decision, but telling about this all of your closest family and friends was even worse, even more than dealing with a fatal disease. You were tired of waiting and not living your life the way you wanted. There were so many things on your to-do list like for example bungee jumping, scuba diving in Australia, sightseeing Paris at midnight, Harry Potter marathon with your friends, going to a fast food restaurant all dressed up, painting in a field full of flowers and most importantly finally seeing Wanzhou Waterfall in China.

That’s why you spent past few months and saved up the energy to be able to tick most of those things off. And you did apart from the last one. Even though it was your most desired dream you weren’t disappointed, thought that maybe if not that disease you wouldn’t be able to make it come true at the back of your mind.

It was a rainy evening when you felt that death was near. As if you knew your time was coming to an end you dialed your dearest friends and family’s numbers, talking to them as if nothing was happening. You shared sweet memories and thoughts, laughter and giggles filling your apartment.

“Mom, I think I’m gonna go to sleep, I’m pretty tired. I’ll see you tomorrow though,” you said calmly, with a single tear blurring your vision.

“Of course, honey. I love you so much,” she exclaimed on the other side of the line.

“I love you too,” you whispered and ended your last call. You stared blankly at your wall full of pictures, full of memories you made. This reminded you how blissful you felt at that exact moment.

You thoughts were disrupted when you felt somebody else's presence in the living room, and because of living alone out of fear your heartbeat increased and the palms of your hands became sweaty. Slowly you turned around on the couch to face the window. That’s where you saw a silhouette of a man.

“Who are you and why are you in my apartment?” you asked with a trembling voice.

“I didn’t want to scare you,” the figure said calmly slowly taking a few steps forward now standing in more illuminated place. His facial features became more visible along with pair of two, white-feathered, strong yet delicate wings. You felt like all of your worries faded away along with fear of a mysterious man, or more precisely, a mysterious angel. That’s when you knew. “My name is Sunghoon, and I’m your guardian angel.”

His deep voice was calm just like his appearance. His short black hair falling on his equally dark eyes. His posture was firm but soft at the same time. And his wings? Safe to say they were the most beautiful and grande thing you’d ever seen. White feathers covering them made them seem as fragile as the way he seemed. While looking at him, you felt like time and all the pain you had been feeling had stopped. At this ecstatic moment, your eyes filled with tears. Were you ready? Is death even something to be ready for? While those thoughts were at the forefront of your mind, you started crying without any notice. Without any questions Sunghoon sat next to you, bringing you closer in between both his arms and glorious wings.

“Nobody can be ready for leaving close ones. It’s not something to be embarrassed about Y/n.” You heard not even surprised that he knew what you were thinking about. “I promise that I did everything I could, but sometimes even Heavens can’t predict or get in the way of somebody’s fate. I was there with and for you for beautiful 21 years, experiencing your first friendships, first arguments with parents, first diagnosis, and all those wonderful adventures,” he answered all of your questions you didn’t even know you wanted to ask while pointing at the pictures on the wall. You followed after his fingers crossing around all of the photos. You smiled and looked at Sunghoon saying: “I think I’m ready to go now”.

He returned a smile and shook his head. “No, you’re not, Y/n,” he rejoined covering her vision with his wings. “There is one last thing you need to see.”

When he revealed the view, you realised you were no longer in your apartment in a rainy city. You were in the middle of the beauty of Wanzou Waterfall. Speechlessly you watched as the clear cascades of water fell with a soft splash. The temple hidden between waterfall standing proudly and firmly as if it was welcoming you to explore all of it’s secret paths and mysterious chambers.

You turned around rapidly to face Sunghoon. “How did you…” you stopped when you saw shy eyebrow raise on his face and sheepish smile.

“I know you better than anybody else, and I loved it whenever you were dreaming about this place. I just knew I had to take you here before… you know before what.” He said sctratching the back of his neck. You ran to sink in his embrace not knowing what to say in a situation like this.

“How much time do I have?” You mumbled against his chest.

“Don’t worry about time. You can stay here as long as you want” His answer made you look up and pull away form his warm arms. You ran, wanting to explore the place for as long as you could. And you did, along with your best friend, your angel.

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

permanent taglist: (send an ask to be added) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @kpopstanmeg, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl, @edensgardenn (in bold can’t be tagged)

[blade-that-was-broken]

This doesn't happen anymore but idk I spent so much time trying to find it in my papers that I have to toss it into the internet void

The moment Spruce raced past John’s gesture for a hug, Branch saw his confusion and hurt. JD glanced around, like he thought maybe he got the wrong troll - despite them being the only ones there - but then he saw Spruce go to Branch for a hug and ignore him. He could see JD’s heart break. 

JD loved hugs more than anyone really knew. He struggled  a little with too much at once - which Branch knew he loathed - but he tried not to let that stop him. 

Branch managed to jump back, sliding out of Spruce’s reach. “Whoa!” he just grinned. “Look at you! Someone’s got some crazy reflexes! Come on, let me give you a hug! I haven’t seen you in years!”

“And whose fault is that?” he asked, flatly. 

Spruce stumbled. “Branch…”

“I’m not here to fight. It’s not about me. I’m here to ask for your help.” 

“For what?”

“The perfect family harmony-”

Spruce rolled his eyes then turned to glare at JD who was busy checking out one of the pools, curiously. He tipped his toe in and that jumped back a little, like he felt or saw something he wasn’t expecting. Spruce was glaring. “Did he put you up to this? He really needs to let it go.” 

“JD has nothing to do with it-” 

“Look Bitty. I’m happy to see you but him?” 

“It’s been twenty years. You’re still mad?” 

“It’s not like he apologized.” 

“Are you sure we are in the right place, kiddo?” JD asked, looking back at him, his head tilting a little. As much as JD had seen so many photos, they had all changed in the last twenty years. Spruce was no exception. Clay and Floyd wouldn’t be either. Without that connection of actually remembering them physically, it made it a bit more difficult for JD to identify those people from his past. 

He was probably missing most of the conversation. They had already talked a bit about it, that Branch should do the explaining. Although JD had a habit of making friends with people, there was a history here and their family held grudges. But then again, JD had lately been letting Branch do a lot of the leading lately. It turned out fine, most of the time, although Branch couldn’t help but be worried about the implications. Maybe he was overthinking it, which was entirely possible too. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Spruce demanded, stepping forward. “Is this a crack about my weight?” 

JD looked absolutely bewildered but finally took a moment to actually look at Spruce a little closer. JD shifted a little, as he often did when it came to people approaching him when upset. Some kind of mechanism, Branch learned, from living out in the wild. It wasn’t something he could really entirely shake. Not that he had tried to much anyway. He was very confused and Branch knew the feeling. “What? Why would I care about some dude’s weight? Each the nachos, man. You run a restaurant.” 

“What?” That seemed to make Spruce even more upset. “Some dude?” 

JD skipped back over to Spruce and looked at him curiously again, but he stuck close to Branch. Another normal thing. The two of them physically kept together when on adventures and other things. Safer that way. It was normal now. “This is one of them right?”

“Excuse me? You’re acting like you have never met me in your life!” Spruce yelled. 

“Not that I can remember,” JD chuckled, nervously. He was trying to play off his discomfort with humor. Just more normal JD things. Branch supposed they had always been normal to him but did Spruce know that? Did he remember some of those things from their childhood? 

“Just because I changed? That is so shallow and I never thought… How have you gotten worse?!” 

“Whoa, dude, chill! Don’t take it personally. I just-” 

“Don’t take it personally? How could I not?”

“Spruce-” 

“It’s Bruce now. And I think it’s time you leave. Obviously the Great John Dory has just become a worse person and I don’t need that. I’ve got a good life with a wife and family! Something you clearly do not have.” 

“SHUT UP!” Branch yelled.

They looked over at him. 

“Would you give it a rest and let us explain?” 

“What is there to explain?” Spruce sneered. “John Dory is here, making fun of me, trying to make me do a family harmony after twenty years of no contact, topping it off with pretending he doesn’t even know me.” 

“He’s not pretending!” Branch shouted, exasperated. 

“What?” 

“He’s not pretending. JD doesn’t remember the first twenty years of his life.” 

“What? What are you talking about?”

“When I was about six, JD stumbled into Pop Village with only the memories of the last couple years. He didn’t know who I was or knew my name.” 

“It totally freaked him out,” JD nodded. 

“I mean, we are kind of freaking out Spruce here.” 

“Yeah. It gets crazier!” JD added. 

“It what?!” 

“Yeah. The King was all like sweet, you can take care of him and I-”

“Where was Gramma?” 

“Asked where was his parents and B was just like dead.” 

“A long time ago.,” Branch frowned. It took a long time to work through that. 

“Yeah. Anyways, I asked B who raised him and he said-” 

“You,” Branch snorted. 

JD grinned like it was an inside joke. It kind of was. Their entire reunion had kind of become an inside joke for the both of them. Although it started rocky, things swung into humor pretty quickly. JD never held what Branch said or acted against him. Part of it was probably because he was young and part of it was simply because JD could find things to laugh at. And it was kind of funny. “And then I was just like ok lets do it.” 

“Let’s… do it?”

“Yeah. Been taking care of this little daredevil ever since.” 

“Daredevil?” 

“It took us a bit to build his confidence but he can keep up with me easy.” 

“Better, old man.” 

“Eh… maybe debatable but you're probably not wrong!”

[goldstargloww]

quick note before i start ranting: last night i started thinking. and then i started ranting in discord. and it got off track. and then i woke up this morning and had a similar thought. so this is just a stream of thoughts from me, really, lmao also, absolutely all of this is from memory, there's a good chance i got some stuff wrong (and i also include a lot of headcanons based off estimates and stuff i don't think would be a stretch), so yeah lmao this is kinda like a thought experiment or something

thinking,, thinking about c!martyn and his birthday

3rd life started 2 weeks after his birthday, last and double life weren't close, rats missed it, pirates has a good chance of missing it, and that's in the future anyway

only limited life included it

martyn… spends the rest of his time in a void, regardless of which route you take, datastream or eyesandears (as we don't know how they connect yet, they're mostly separate? kinda? idk its complicated)

so… what's better: having your birthday in the midst of a death game, in a world that isn't real but feels painfully so, or alone in a void?

in a dark void where you're unconscious most of the time, and when you're not, you're being taunted? or in a green void where you can't so much as sleep like you had to back in the world you were torn from, the world that you only have one actual connection with, your only glimpse of reality being of that who trapped you in this mess and doesn't care enough to get you out already?

martyn's first birthday in the datastream likely would've been limited life, if that's how that would work (again, datastream~eyesandears, complicated)

he's still got another good 7 months until his next one

will he be out of the datastream by then? will doc have finally figured it out?

…why hasn't he yet?

…that's a question for another day. (sure, maybe he's said that dozens of times before, but… now's not the time, is all)

(…besides, it seems like he cares. but…- no, question for another day. whatever a day even is. he only really knows because doc makes him journal for every one that passes, not because it really holds any meaning right now.)

would he rather spend his birthday lonely and paranoid, lonely and paranoid, or lonely and paranoid?

either

in constant fear of death, being able to see just how much time you have left until then, knowing it could skip ahead by an hour or even two at a moment's notice.

people who were supposed to be your friends (and perhaps were in another life) trying to kill you on your birthday, throwing explosives down from the clouds onto your party on the one day you maybe thought you'd be allowed to enjoy yourself.

(and yeah, maybe you were planning on blowing up everyone else, too, but when you're red, can you really be blamed for wanting to spill some blood?)

(…everyone else feels like that, don't they? you're not the only one. you're stupid for thinking you'd be an exception to their bloodlust just because it's your birthday.)

or

in a void where your only waking moments aren't good ones. where you're taunted and berated and ridiculed for your mistakes, where you start to believe what you're told, that you failed your one job despite being given so many chances.

the void in which you last see Them before your only anything between these games abandon you for years?- months on end, only to reappear a game later in hopes of ruining your life. and you're pretty damn scared They succeeded. (you've felt, just, bad, for so long, that you're not sure things can get worse, yet they manage to every time. you're not sure when things got this bad, but it's Their fault, you know it is.)

…you're unconscious most of the time in this void, anyway. you're not sure why it feels like such an eternity every time.

or

in a lime green void, stretching on virtually endlessly (heh, virtually… ah, this is what you've resorted to for entertainment, isn't it?), with access to all you could ever dream of?

sure, maybe not the impossible—that's, well, impossible—and maybe not things that haven't been created yet, maybe some things are locked behind paywalls you can't bypass, or, or need for accounts–

oh, did you mention you can't leave any trace of your existence either? there's quite a few restrictions, actually—no accounts, no anonymous comments, no privacy, no friends, no family, no food, no drink, no sleep, no- no bodily functions, no.. no concrete sense of self, no… fellow(? are you even human anymore?) human interaction…

well, besides doc, but he's… busy. too busy to help you get out of here, too busy to…

to care where you land after pushing you through a portal to an unknown world with little to no warning,

to get… worried, when you stay months in the same game world, because these- these missions are meant to be a, a quick in and out, maybe a week, usually less, not… three whole months, and…

fuck did that hurt, leaving them all, but… the sooner you complete these missions for doc—what even are these missions, anyway? why-—the faster you'll be out of the datastream and.. back to reality. back to.. home… you think.

(why do these missions have such big gaps between them?

why– how is doc presumably fighting CHEST all by himself (well, not all by himself, you are the datastream defender, after all, even if that is just a made up title to make yourself feel better, even if you're barely an asset as opposed to a liability to doc)?

what does global ramifications entail?

why hasn't doc figured out how to get you out of here yet?

why does he not spend any time with you, he's your only real human contact, and even then, it's flakey!?

why does he make you journal every day? to keep you sane? you mean, it's hardly working, but why?

if doc cares, it'd be more than just whatever this is. or–…

…you've had this conversation before. you're just out of touch with social interaction. players and npcs are nothing like real people. you're just… wrong. and doc's right, because doc knows what's going on, and you don't, save for some tiny morsels of information. right. …nevermind.)

this is where i stopped ranting for the night, and i pick it back up on a similar topic this morning ^^

i wonder if, in the datastream lore, rats and pirates are made by the same people or not

if doc would have access to that information, if he would purposefully start avoiding powcreations, or purposefully seek out their game worlds

is martyn spending months in a game world, having fun instead of doing his job, a good thing in any way, in doc's eyes? or is it solely a distraction or vulnerability?

martyn goes to all these game worlds for a reason, he needs to find loot shards so doc can deal with them, but how does doc feel about martyn staying months instead of days? of martyn having fun? growing attached? forming emotional bonds with people who aren't real?

(doc tells martyn they aren't real. martyn has no reason not to believe him on that. (in fact, martyn tells himself they aren't real, because if they were, he's not sure he'd handle that well.) even though players can be awakened, they're still ultimately under an actual human's control—doc's told martyn this. martyn is... a special case. (and if they aren't quick enough, his situation could lose its uniqueness to the enemy. which, if it wasn't clear, isn't a good thing.))

it's ultimately not healthy, martyn knows, but he's been in the datastream a little over a year at this point. the only human interaction he has is doc, who barely seems to have time for him, and CHEST agents (he thinks? they may just be AI), which are actively trying to kill him, whatever that would mean for him. he doesn't like the thought.

so, maybe he's a bit lonely—okay, maybe very lonely—so can you really blame him for wanting to indulge? i mean… even if it isn't really reality, what's stopping it from acting as one? he'll… he'll always have to leave eventually, but… he may as well enjoy himself while he has the chance, right?

so what's to stop him from making friends with oli the trash rat, or oli the pirate? (they're almost eerily similar, all things considered, but martyn guesses that's what happens when you get lazy devs. everything else seems to have so much care put into it, though... why would they put in such little effort to player characters when so much goes into everything else?)

what's to stop him flirting with half the players on the faction isles and being responsible for the nickname "kisstrels"?

what's to stop him having a genuinely good time?

leaving rats was hard. it was the first time he felt he truly belonged somewhere in how long? longer than the datastream, for sure.

he was really starting to struggle at that point with the crushing loneliness and feelings of unreality, if he's honest. rats... rats was nice. rats was probably some of the most fun he's had.

and leaving pirates has every chance to be even harder.

with these new scars appearing (which he would assume to be a design thing if it weren't for the fact that they stayed with him in the datastream itself), and these new feelings occurring without reason or rhyme, he's starting to feel uneasy about being stuck in the datastream again. (he's never not felt uneasy about it. he just… manages to push it to the back of his mind(? does he still have one of those?), sometimes.)

he's spent a lot of his time thinking—a lot about the rats, admittedly—why does scott feel so much more familiar now than he did even after he left rats? so many of the rats always felt familiar, especially jimmy and oli, but why does he miss scott all of a sudden?

weird feelings like that had been beginning to pop up the past few months, along with scars he has no explanation for—i mean, seriously, why does he have at least three scars shaped like a four-pointed star? what would even cause that? he's fairly sure there's more, as well!—and it's been making him uneasy. most of all, it's been making him lonely.

pirates came at a good time, he thinks.

maybe his introduction wasn't the best, what, with doc shoving him through a portal just for him to fall from the sky into the ocean, then immediately getting scammed by scar—

why does scar feel so familiar? why does that seem so in character for him? he hasn't been in another game world which used his assets, has he?

—just to go to this weird corrupted purple island and lose two people along the way—

why does doc always put him in the center of the story? it can get so stressful at times! i mean, rats was stressful enough even before the other rats did stuff like blow up the boiler!

—but... i mean, he made a song for pirates. that's something he'd only previously done for rats (and wow, was that process painful, can you imagine how hard it is to make music while being a rat and staying secretive about your mission? speaking of secrets, he got pretty lucky with the whole pirate thing, for once he can be truthful about some part of why he's here, even if he has to stay vague), and even then, that wasn't really a serious song. this one's a full on song, water made sheet music and everything!

so, evidently, it's not that bad. it's quite the opposite, actually. martyn thinks he's going to have a pretty good time here, as a pirate.

(he's not sure why the pirate aesthetic, and the oceanic/aquatic aesthetic as a whole, actually, feels so familiar. like he's done this sort of thing recently...?

and... scott. scott feels related to that, for some reason. and scott's a heron, martyn fucking hates the herons (he'd never admit it, maybe except to the rats in his boots, but they're actually not that bad. it's more like a sibling rivalry, than anything).

…does this have something to do with martyn randomly missing rat scott the past few months? …does he miss rat scott, or does he miss scott? …these aren't real people, martyn, get it together, it's fine. you're fine. nothing to worry about.)