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strandedtoodeep · 7 months ago

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Poolverine fics rec' ✨

Yes, FINALLY.

So, basically what the title said: some poolverine's fics recommendation because i have 150+ bookmarks and sharing is caring so let's go!

I'll put title, link, tag the author (if they are on tumblr), numbers of words & chapters and probably silly summary or thoughts

I'll be adding some in the future with a red exclamation❗

The ones without smut have a bunny emoji 🐰

My faves are on top

If you have some recs i'm happy to take them thank you 🤲

Faves

Come Hell or High Water by @farmhandler 84k, 11 ch. || love when a fic take mental health seriously and talk about it in a way that feel so right? (bonus the smut is *chef's kiss*

Promise Me We'll Be Back In Time by @back4destiel 108k, 17 ch. || 50 First Dates was one of my favorite movie when i was a preteen (yeah) so this fic fill me with nostalgia and happiness

where soul meets body by @edgebug 33k, 3 ch. || one of my first poolverine's fic and it sets the bar so HIGH (and tbh i cried so much reading it, it's concerning)

silence is what i do best (but still i hear it all) by @cainroses 25k, 3 ch. || feral! logan is very dear to me and the character's voices in it?? absolutely delightful (beware the smut is very good but spicy)

Until you get sick of me, honestly by @3koboldsinahoodie 151k, 27ch. (on going) || i love it so much i want to forget it and discovers it again, the peak of two idiots in love it's beautiful

whoever makes my baby cry (is gonna lose some teeth tonight) by @wickedscribbles 16k, 4 ch. || love some genderplay, bottom and protective logan, my dear, i love it but most importantly the writings is scrumptious

The Void by @rovingotter 115k, 23 ch. || i'm still trying to process what i feel with this fic, please please read this blindly and i assure you, you'll never be the same

The Soundtrack by @greatsnakestintin 43k, 15 ch. (on going) || love a good road trip fic, love music so it's absolutely perfect for me! and the plot is so?? fascinating???

Kaleidoscope by Space_wanderer 79k, 14 ch. || CHAPPELL ROAN REFERENCE! when Logan is such a idiot Wade need to go get him AGAIN in his universe

Don't you want me to run? by @decaying-lover 89k, 26 ch. (on going) || if you love angst, this fic will serve you ANGST! love their dynamics, the tension, their voices, everything

❗Maximum Effort by ArtemisFAYZ012 168k, 33 ch. || OMG the plot?? the spicy spices?? the intimacy between Logan and Wade (AND Logan who falls so HARD for Wade)

On going

Somewhere I belong by @terrasilvershade 24k, 6ch. || another girls dad AU but this one, my god!!! the feels?? it's so interesting to see Logan being envious and it's writing so well

❗Do I Wanna Know by @slut-arc 13k, 5ch. || a 5+1 fic! It's cute and fluffy but also with sparkles of angst, and the ice skating scene??? didn't leave my mind for days ugh

Baby(girl) Don't Hurt Me by @peargreen-jellybean 16k, series with 4 works || 4 fics and i love them all! some good poolverine pining & domestic bliss + men in lingeries (my weakness)

❗Under Your Skin, Over the Moon by RatFlavored 5k, 2 ch. || first Soulmate AU i read for Poolverine and i love it??? So much??? think this trope is underrated ngl, and it's well written!

In Another Life by @flash-bastardd 32k, 10 ch. || x-men origins but better! (bc it's gay) i have some feelings with this movie but this fic healed me and i love it!

❗don't i give you what you need by @wickedscribbles 5k, 2 ch. || i cannot not put the new work of Wicked here, it's so good and the heartbreak??? the angst??? my heart bleed so much for them

call me when you’re ready to be real by @maroonmused 23k, 9 ch. || "and they were roommates" ofc like it's not absolutely obvious for EVERYONE except themself; a very good domestic bliss!

❗Echoes Through the Timeline by @piplover 64k, series with 4 works || i loved so many works in this series, specially the first and last one, break my heart and heal my soul

How To Pay For Rent 💸 by @fictionfeast 59k, 4 ch. || this fic feels like a fever dream, but a OH SO GOOD and well writing fever dream! (ngl as a french person Craig List scares me)

❗🐰 unhappy man syndrome by @gossippool 19k, 5 ch. || don't know if i'll recover from this fic, ever, but i'm so invested and it's pure whump all over (HUG FOR EVERYONE YALL)

❗Got My Mind Set On You by @buttsforabettertomorrow 23k, 4 ch. || Logan try so hard to be good and accepting in this one i love him so much lmao (and it confuses Wade so it's a double win)

🐰 Christmas in Canada by @thatoneartyishperson 7k, 3 ch. || listen, Halloween is still my favorite holidays but Poolverine AU Hallmark Christmas Movies ? URGH i'm here for it!!

❗back to the old house by @nico-di-angelol 71k, 8ch. || it's so interesting that i'm MAD at myself for not reading this earlier, yep it's THAT good! beware chap. 7 will break your heart

Synergy and Entropy by @artemis-pendragon 46k, 19 ch. || i was so sure that i'd put this fic here but no??? anyways, the hurt and angst in this fic are so astronomically good, so beware

❗🐰 Mr. Forgettable by @eliemo 40k, 7 ch. || okaaayy listen, this one make me cry every time i read it, idk how to explain why it feel so personal to me but it'll move you

🐰 make me into something sweet by @mothgardens 30k, 8 ch. || AU poolverine WITH MUSICAL CLASS? it's... it's beautiful! particularly love the dynamic between Logan and Wade in this one

❗knee deep in this thing called life by @secondbreakfastwizard 86k, 13 ch. || i'm so OBSESSED with this fic, autistic Logan is so dear to me (maybe bc i relate a lot) and these two are so stupidly in love

Complete

🐰 the dollhouse by @kanashikute 4k, OS || love the fluffiness in this fic, love how Logan accept to love, be loved and doesn't left Wade behind UGH they're so cute in this one!!!

❗Pavlov’s Dog by @panties-on-boys 18k, 11 ch. || this is the kind of fiction that obsesses me so much, and i don't even like perfume; it's the most smutty slow burn ever hehe

Girl Dads by @starburstsobsessions 40k, 16 ch. || AU poolverine's fic are fire and this one, THIS ONE, omg! this fic makes my dream (aka seeing dilf! logan) a reality

🐰 Glass Shards by greaserbabes 9k, 2 ch. || always love when Logan and Wade are SO STUPIDLY in love; ngl the scene with the glass shards make me cry every time

You Should Feel My Nature Too by sterlingstars 10k, OS || so uh, i love stripper! Wade okay? it's not really that with this one but it's as good AND wholesome (and spicy too) so yeah

🐰 The Folly Of Playing Gay Chicken Too Hard (Phrasing) by GayLord3000 3k, OS || the domestic fic where Wade is the stupid one, being so stupid in fact it's nearly cost him his relationship with Logan whoops

Love shot by lillygoeson 28k, 6ch. || another bartender! Logan one, but AU no powers AND with a good "twist" in the middle; this fic is so bittersweet and good oml

Don't Want To Be A Fool For You by @cuntylogan 96k, 5 ch. || bartender! Logan who try to fight his addiction (and slowly fall in love) has a special place in my heart, you go boy

❗🐰 This Old House by @twentyghosts 30k, 16 ch. || AU with patient! Wade and handyman! Logan, they fall in love, it's full of angst, fluff, hurt, and with a very cute ending

look at you by @weedwilson 3k, OS || yes it's shameless smut and mirror sex, my beloved... and I LOVE when Logan worshipping Wade this much bc he deserves it

❗🐰 Is It Casual Now? by @twilightkitkat 6k, OS || love this bc i have so many feelings about how the X-Men have treated Logan, i love seeing him stand up for himself **sob**

It's Just Chemistry by @farmhandler 37k, 5 ch. || in the same universe of Come Hell or High Water, there is so... so much angst but it's very good angst!!! still love this specific dynamic

🐰 We Should Just Kiss (Like Real People Do) by @nikaandtea 8k, OS || HOZIER REFERENCE! i'm still so happy when a fic talk about chronic pain combined with domestic bliss i'm totally sold

Night Terrors by educatedwish 50k, 13 ch. || love how Logan is written is this fic, how PTSD messed with his feelings in a serious way... my heart melt every time i read it

❗🐰 Relationship Advice by fir_forest 1k, OS || no but the idea of a fic like a relationship advice post on reddit??? i love this!! short, but sweet and very funny hehe

second nature to me now by @edgebug 36k, OS || a investigation in a gay club??? with my two idiots in love?? and with old gay Logan? i giggled so hard reading this, i LOVE IT

🐰 It Feels Like Home by @twentyghosts 10k, 6 ch. || one of my favorite trope is the 5+1 and this one... my god, right in the feels! so much fluffiness, coziness, it warm my heart

a loaded gun, can't contain this anymore (i'm all yours, i've got no control) by @obihoebikenobi 6k, OS || i have nothing to say other than read the tag hehe! but yeah love the concept, the smut is spicy (always like some focus on the claws)

🐰 stuck by the glue (oh and you) by prngslvr 3k, OS || a good rewriting of (some scenes) from DP&W, and one of my first fluff and non-smut fic that i read after watching the movie!

Let Me Get Back to You by RatFlavored 14k, 2 ch. || pls i want to read more fics with phone sex in it (i know it's specific) but in the meantime, this one is SO good (and full of feels too)

❗Heat of the Moment by @finelydressedspacemen 11k, 4 ch. || non traditional a/b/o my beloved!!! and it's always a little bit satisfying to see Scott mentioned (hehehe the drama)

tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow by signifier 10k, OS || i have a thing for time loop and this kind of fuckery, it's short but good and i love the title it make me chuckles

🐰 Take Me Through the Darkness to the Break of the Day by The_Colour_Yellow 17k, 10 ch. || a very good fic around hanahaki disease with my two favorites idiots??? sign me in! even with so much hurt and angst UGH

Oh, God, I Think I'm Fallin' by @slut-arc 15k, 5 ch. || the return of domestic poolverine and YES I KNOW but it's my weakness... and Logan is so emotionally constipated it's concerning

🐰 Little Reflection by @wickedscribbles 11k, 5ch. || poolverine + cute cat + Logan suffering from anxiety and i'm sold! because ofc Logan is a true and pure cat (and dog) dad

❗i bet we’d have really good come right on me, i mean camaraderie by @notesappwitch 31k, 2 ch. || bodyswap trope, love the character's voice bc it's so on point, very funny, a lot of emotions and the spicy scenes are perfect

the bucket list by @kanashikute 33k, 4 ch. || read this one, please, really, it's so bittersweet BUT i promise there's a good ending (and i cried so much while reading it)

🐰 he’s the headlights, I’m the deer by NatalieK 7k, OS || it's interesting to see Logan's losing his healing factor for once instead of Wade! and seeing Wade taking care of him, my heart

when you get a taste, can you tell me what's my flavor? by @slut-for-a-good-latte 5k, OS || one of my favorite thing with poolverine is psychic/quantum thingy bond because of the Time Ripper and this one DELIVERS!!

🐰 holding out for a hero by @splinnters 6k, 3 ch. || once again, i have a soft spot for Logan trusting Wade so much he called him when something is wrong and this, THIS is good

❗it's all in my head but i want nonfiction by @obihoebikenobi 21k, 3 ch. || Wade pinning x Logan perfectly happy in his relationship with his boyfriend who doesn't know he's his boyfriend it's perfect

🐰 I've got some color back (he thinks so too) by @mid13s 3k, OS || just a short fic with non-sexual intimacy because these two need comfort, hugs and a lot of affection (and the Hozier reference is chef's kiss)

who are you, really? by @edgebug 45k, 4 ch. || the sequel of where soul meets body and it's also an absolutely masterpiece! and still trying to process my feelings for this fic

#deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #deadclaws #wolverine #deadpool #logan howlett #wade wilson #deadpool 3 #poolverine fic #poolverine fics #poolverine fanfiction #poolverine ao3 #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #my faves #fanfic rec #fanfiction recommendation

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pedroscurls · 9 months ago

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in every lifetime (pt. 2)

summary: you and logan try to steer clear of each other, the scars running so deep that certain memories of the past occur. pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader word count: 3.5k tags / warnings: angst - post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), flashbacks from both reader's world and worst!logan's universe (in italics), no use of y/n. a/n: i'm so so surprised at how well the first part was received and i just want to thank everyone who's read it!!! i'm a sucker for angst and i'm so excited to make this into a longer series. in each part, there's gonna be a song that basically sums up the feels for the chapter. song: wherever you will go by the calling prev. part - next part.

“I’m not him.”

His words repeat in your mind like it’s some kind of mantra, trying to convince you that the Logan you saw a week ago wasn’t the same Logan you lost all those years ago.

But he was right there, so close and yet so far. The subtle touches that night only reminded you of the man you lost. Even after all this time, he still had such a strong hold on your heart.

But this Logan wasn’t yours and he made that very clear. It felt like the world was laughing in your face, taunting you by having the love of your life resurrected in a version that wanted nothing to do with you. You weren’t naive, you knew that this person wasn’t the same man you had fallen in love with, but your soul yearned for him and you knew he felt it too.

You never truly recovered from losing your Logan. Instead, you had just forced yourself to get up day in and day out for Laura because you knew that’s what Logan would have wanted you to do. As the years passed, you became numb to the loss of him. You tried not to think about him, tried not to reminisce of the moments you shared with each other, but there had been times throughout the years where something reminded you of him.

And every time, it crippled you. Took hold of every inch of your being until all you could think about was Logan and it broke your heart all over again.

But seeing him caused your entire world to stop, serving as a reminder of the gaping hole that your Logan left in your heart.

While you tried to forget your Logan, to just continue living your life until it was your turn to go, seeing a different version of him just brought back all of the memories you tried so hard to erase. You wanted to forget, wanted these memories of him gone from your mind because it just hurt too much.

But here he was. A walking reminder of the man you loved.

The man you lost.

And the man you will never get back.

–

“I’m not her.”

Logan couldn’t stop thinking about you since that night he saw you. He tried to tell himself that you weren’t her, to convince himself that you weren’t the same woman he lost.

But having you so close where he could have just reached out and touched you stirred a lot of unresolved emotions that he tried so hard to bury. He knew you weren’t the woman that he had fallen in with – you were just some version of her in this universe and he had to wonder if this was life’s way of punishing him for all of the things he had done in his.

Logan wanted to push you away and he made it very clear that night that he wasn’t your Logan and that he never would be. He needed to keep you at a distance, but every fiber of his being yearned for you. Since that night, all Logan could hear was your laugh, your voice. All he could see was your smile, your eyes that gazed up at him.

He tried so hard to snap out of it because you weren’t her.

And when he was alone, when the hope that things could be different finally vanished, all he could see now was the same woman who had died in his arms because of him. All he could hear was your voice, calling out to him to save you, and the last words you told him before you took your last breath.

He barely slept and drinking only did so much. This universe was supposed to be his second chance at being a better version of himself, but he didn’t know how he could do that when he knew you existed in this world.

Your mere existence haunted him, causing a lot of conflicting feelings.

He wanted another chance with you, but how could he do that when he knew that you were better off without him? Safer without him?

This Logan didn’t belong in this universe, he knew that much.

But he couldn’t help the hope that he felt within himself (and from you) that maybe this wasn’t life’s way of taunting you both, but rather a second chance to make things right.

To be happy.

To have an ending that you both deserve.

With each other.

—

“You know, I’d do anything for you,” you tell Logan, who’s lying in bed next to you. What had started as a very casual situationship had turned into something much more serious.

Logan started spending more and more nights at your place, finding comfort in your presence. You were the calm within the storm, the peace within the chaos. He didn’t know when things changed, when things shifted, but his soul yearned for you.

“I know you would, bub,” he’d reply. Logan never made his feelings for you known, never made it obvious because if he did, it would make things more complicated than he already made it to be. He often wondered why he found you so late in his life, after everything he had been through, Logan finally had a chance of happiness but he didn’t know how long he had.

He could feel that his body was much different than before. Could feel the pain of his wounds last longer before it healed itself.

But you made him feel young again, made him feel like he finally deserved a life that he had seen others live. A chance to be happy. A chance to love.

“I’m serious, Logan.”

“I know,” he repeats.

“I think I love you.” you admit.

Logan sits up in bed abruptly. He can feel his chest tightening with so many emotions: relief, joy, fear. He feels you reach out for him and he just stands up, gathering his clothes and beginning to put them back on without a word.

“Logan–”

“No,” he growls. “No.”

You scramble to your feet, grabbing the sheet from your bed to wrap around your naked frame. With one arm holding it up, you use your other hand to rest on his chest. “Stop running.”

“Ain’t running. We both know exactly what this was, bub,” Logan says, shrugging your hand off of him. “I ain’t good for you, and we both know that.”

“Don’t you love me too?” you ask, voice quivering as you take a step away from him. “I know who you are, what you are, the things you’ve done and seen… but I love all of you. The good, the bad. All of it.”

Logan pulls on his black slacks and white tank top, glancing over at you. He feels tethered to you, feels like if he walks out of that door that he wouldn’t come back and he’d never fully recover.

“Of course, I love you,” Logan admits. “But I can’t– We can’t–” he feels his breath hitch in his throat. “I mean it. I ain’t good for you, bub. You deserve someone better than me.”

“I deserve you,” you hesitantly reach out for him, afraid that he’s going to pull away from you again. “There is no one better than you, Logan.”

“Things don’t ever work out for me,” he whispers, looking down at your hand that moves to take hold of his. “If I lose you, I won’t ever forgive myself.”

“You won’t lose me,” you promise.

“You don’t know that.”

“What happens if I lose you? What happens then?”

Logan shrugs. “You’ll be fine.”

You shake your head in disagreement. “I have never loved anyone as much as I love you,” you tell him honestly. “My heart will always belong to you. In every lifetime. In every universe, I’m yours.”

Logan gazes at you and can see the tears in your eyes. Your free hand moves to rest gently on his chest, above his beating heart. You look at him in a way that no one ever has, that despite all of the things he has done, you still see the good in him.

And it was in that moment that Logan promised himself that he would do everything in his power to keep you happy, to make sure you knew how much he loved you.

“In every lifetime. In every universe,” he repeats, voice quiet as he leans into you…

Suddenly, you awake, gasping for air as you scramble to reach out to the empty space next to you. “Logan…” you call out for him, the sudden realization hitting you straight to your core. Tears begin to roll down your cheeks as you bring your legs up to your chest, beginning to cry into your knees. Your dreams – or rather memories – of Logan occur almost every night since meeting some version of him last week.

This new Logan had the same exterior as your Logan, haunted by his own memories, by his regrets and failures. But you couldn’t help the fact that while you were yearning and missing your Logan, you also craved this new Logan.

Was this life’s way of giving you another chance?, you had to wonder. And if it was, would you take it?

—

It was another morning where Logan was sitting on the couch, a bottle of liquor on the coffee table as he tried so hard to forget you and erase the memories that tied you to him. But even when he closed his eyes, you were all he could see.

“So, you do like me,” you grin up at him.

“I tolerate ya,” Logan answers with a smirk.

“Hm,” you gaze up at him. “I think you more than tolerate me. Just admit it, Logan. You like me.”

“And so what if I do, bub?” he asks, taking a careful step into your personal space. Logan can hear your heart race begin to beat faster and he smiles to himself. There had always been an instant attraction that he felt towards you when he came to the mansion and found you teaching a literature class to mutants. You had locked eyes with him as he was passing your classroom and flashed him a smile.

Logan never believed in love at first sight, but you had certainly made an impression on him from that brief glance alone. The more he got to know you and spend time with you, the stronger his feelings for you grew.

“If you do – which I think you do,” you begin. “Then I’d tell you that I like you too. A lot, actually.”

Now it was Logan’s turn to feel his heart racing at your admission. When he was around you, Logan felt calmer. And you always looked at him like he was someone worthy of your attention. Logan knew early on that there was a lingering longing for you, a craving that showed him he wanted more of you.

“That so, sweetheart?” Logan grins, hand gently resting on your cheek. His touch was such a stark contrast from what he was capable of. The same hands that were now touching you had hurt so many other people and yet with you, he was gentle, careful.

“Yeah, Logan,” you whisper, leaning into his touch. “And I’d very much like it if you could kiss me now.”

“I think you’re trouble,” he mumbles, running the pad of his thumb across your lower lip. “If I kiss you now, that makes you mine.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Logan,” you reply, gently grazing your teeth across the tip of his thumb.

“I ain’t ever gonna let you go,” Logan admits. “There is no going back if we do this.”

“I know,” you whisper. “Whatever this is, I want it. I want you.”

Logan stares into your eyes, trying to gauge whether or not you were lying. But you never did lie to him. In fact, you were the most honest person he’s ever met. There’s a part of him that’s afraid to give into this because he knows that who he is and what he is is a danger to anyone that’s close to him.

And yet, he can’t seem to stay away from you.

“Are you sure?” Logan asks.

“I’ll always be yours, Logan,” you admit honestly. “In every lifetime and in every universe, I’m yours.”

Logan hears the sound of Althea cursing aloud, which causes his eyes to open as he looks around. It takes him a moment to realize that he’s not in the same universe anymore and there’s a sudden realization when he remembers that you were gone. In his universe, you were dead.

He pays no attention to Althea, grabbing his liquor bottle and grunting in her direction before he walks down the hallway and into his bedroom. Once the door shuts, Logan sits on the edge of his bed and lies back, staring up at the ceiling as he thinks of you. Thinks of the night he saw you last week. The sound of your voice, the sound of your laughter, the sight of your smile, the gaze in your eyes…

“In every lifetime and in every universe,” he mumbles to himself.

—

Later that night, Wade’s having his weekly family dinner again. Logan tries to make an excuse that he’s going to leave for the night, that he doesn’t want to participate or be around anyone, but Wade saw right through it.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Wade asks, setting up the table and making sure to gather chairs around it. “I don’t even know if she’s coming,” he lies.

“Laura will be here.”

“Doesn’t mean that she will be.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “I’d rather not be here if she is.”

“You know, you’d think that seeing the woman you love alive again would get you excited. Instead, you’re running away like you usually do,” Wade says seriously. “You know what happened in your universe wasn’t–”

“Enough,” Logan interrupts. “We don’t talk about my universe anymore, got it?”

Wade raises his hands in defeat. “Fine, fine. All I’m saying… This is your second chance to be better, Peanut. Why not actually make a life for yourself here?”

“Because I don’t belong here,” Logan answers and then grabs a case of beer from the fridge along with another bottle of whiskey. “I’ll be in my room. I won’t bother you and you don’t bother me. Got it?”

“Sheesh,” Wade says. “Fine, Peanut.”

Logan grumbles under his breath and then walks into his room, shutting the door behind him and quickly opening a bottle of beer that he downs with ease.

As the hours pass, Logan tries to tune out the chatter coming from the living room. He doesn’t hear your voice amongst the amount of people in the apartment and while that should provide him some relief, it instead does the opposite. It disappoints him. He wants you nearby, wants to hear your voice, your laugh, smell your scent from miles away.

Logan wants you here.

And just as his mind drifts, he hears a knock on his door.

“Don’t bother me,” he calls out.

The knocking persists and he lets out a sigh of frustration. Logan stands from the bed and then swings the door open to see Laura standing on the other side of the door.

“What do you want?”

“For you to talk to her,” she answers, completely unbothered by his attitude. “I think you both can help each other.”

“Yeah, well that ain’t happening, kid. Now, please–” Logan’s about to shut the door when the younger woman’s hand reaches out to stop it from closing.

“I know she isn’t her and I know you aren’t him, but I also know that you both are thinking the same thing.”

“Yeah? And what’s that, kid?”

“That this can be a second chance for the both of you.”

“Ain’t no such thing as second chances,” Logan replies.

“You saved our world, Logan,” Laura says softly. “You saved her.”

Logan can feel his chest tightening. “I killed her,” he corrects. “In my universe, I–” he shakes his head, tears stinging his eyes. “Just leave me alone, kid.”

This time, Laura allows him to close the door.

—

You’re pacing in front of Wade’s front door, heart beating out of our chest in anticipation that you might see Logan again. This was the first time in the last week that you managed to get yourself out of bed, having called out from work for an entire week. You had thrown on a pair of leggings and ironically, Logan’s flannel. Your Logan’s.

With a deep breath, you knock on the door and see it swing open. Wade’s on the other side with a large grin, welcoming you inside.

“You made it,” he grins.

“I’m only here to pick up Laura,” you correct him.

“Well, you and the big guy are certainly avoiding each other,” Wade points out. “Why is that?”

“Wade,” you sigh quietly. “I’m just here to pick up Laura,” you repeat.

Wade sighs dramatically. “Fine, fine. But between you and me? This seems like a second chance that not a lot of people get.”

You don’t respond and see Laura round the corner. You smile in her direction and pull her into a hug. You can tell that her having another Logan in this universe is also taking a toll on her and you try to tell yourself, to convince yourself, that you need to be better for her.

“Ready to go?” you ask.

“Yeah, think so.”

“Great, I’m just gonna use the bathroom and then we’ll head out.”

You release her and walk down the hallway to the bathroom. You shut the door behind you and sigh, resting your hands on the edge of the sink as you feel tears threaten to spill over. You know he’s here, know that he’s somewhere close because you can feel his presence.

Logan had been on high alert the moment you entered the apartment building. His heart rate picks up when he can smell your scent waft through his senses followed by your voice. It isn’t until he hears you enter the bathroom and begin crying that he feels a twist in the pit of his stomach.

He probably shouldn’t be focusing his hearing on you, especially since it seems like just being here was causing you so much pain, but he couldn’t help himself. This was the closest he can get to you while keeping you at a distance.

—

After a few minutes, you wipe your eyes and make yourself presentable. You know if Laura sees you crying, she’s going to want to do everything in her power to make you feel better and you don’t want to burden her with your feelings.

With a deep breath, you step out of the bathroom with your eyes gazed downwards. Suddenly, you bump into someone’s hardened chest and your hands immediately reach out. There’s a sense of familiarity with your touch and when you slowly look up, you see Logan gazing down at you.

“Logan, I–”

He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t try to move away. He just keeps his eyes locked on yours. Logan keeps his hands at his sides, his fingertips itching to touch you, to feel you.

You drop your hands back to your side and bite your lower lip in embarrassment. You’re both standing in the hallway, away from the sounds of chatter and laughter.

“I’m sorry,” you finally say. “I should have watched where I was going.”

Logan just nods, but instead, he takes an inch step towards you. It causes you to take a step back until your back gently touches the wall. He’s crowding your space, gazing into your eyes. Logan knows that he should run, knows that he should keep himself far from you, but he can’t.

Your souls are tied to each other, bonded in every lifetime. Even if he tried to forget about you, tried to keep himself at arm’s length, Logan knows that it would only hurt you (and him) more.

Logan’s eyes glisten with unshed tears as he stares into your eyes and just like the version of you in his universe, you’re looking at him like he’s enough, like all you can see is the good in him. And it makes his heart swell, reminds him of the moment he locked eyes with you in his universe for the first time.

And maybe Wade was right. Maybe this is his second chance at making things right.

Slowly, his hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Logan feels an electric pull towards you at the soft touch and he knows you felt it too.

Quietly, Logan whispers, “In every universe and in every lifetime, I’m yours.”

You feel your breath catch in your throat, remembering the dream you had earlier this morning and those same words you told your Logan when you told him you loved him for the first time.

Maybe Wade had a point. Maybe this is your second chance.

572 notes · View notes

lincolndjarin · 1 year ago

Text

Not So Secret Santa

javier peña x fem!reader

this is a part of the @pedrostories gift exchange!!

summary : you get the only person you didn't want for your offices secret santa.

warnings/tags : 18+ mdni, enemies/friends to lovers, canon divergence, steve is your boss/close friend, reader and javier have a complicated relationship, reader is insecure, brief mentions of alcohol, porn with plot, smut, light angst, javier and reader fight physically but it's very light with no actual injury, masturbation, semi-public sex, p in v, idk how to properly tag this but javi likes boobs in this so he touches boobs, unprotected sex (don't do this, wrap it this holiday season), use of a makeshift gag, rough yet very loving sex because it's christmas and christmas magic means i can write what i want.

tldr : you and javi have sex in his office and you put his tie in his mouth to shut him up.

word count : 4.4k

✦ : merry christmas @taro-666 !!! i'm your secret santa !!! i hope you're well this holiday season and i hope you enjoy this fic !! i haven't written much peña, despite how much i love him so i hope i did him justice and i hope you have a wonderful holiday <3 <3 (also sorry this is a little late (20 minuetes left before midnight so we're good). i was out with family all day and was only just now able to get to my laptop, i promise i didn't forget about you lmao)

no use of y/n, reader has hair and painted nails & javier sort of half picks her up at one point, nothing else is described besides clothing.

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

“Please, Steve, I’ll give you a week's pay.” You lean across his desk, genuine desperation in your voice after an hour of begging.

“Not gonna happen.” He doesn’t even bother looking up from his computer.

“A month.” Your voice is starting to pitch up, something similar to anguish in your tone. Your offer finally gets a reaction out of him as his eyes widen, head tilting up.

“Jesus, you can’t be serious.” He’s examining your expression, trying to determine the sincerity of your claim.

“My entire Christmas bonus.”

“Okay, stop.” He sighs, giving you a sympathetic look. “We’re not allowed to switch.”

“When did you become such a stickler for the rules?” You cross your arms in front of your chest.

“It’s just a secret Santa. He’s our friend, whether you like it or not, you two are close and this shouldn’t be this big of a deal, now go, please, I need to finish up here so I can leave at a reasonable hour.” He loosens his tie as you sigh.

“It’s not just a secret Santa, Steve. It’s an opportunity for him to tell me that I once again didn’t do something right. No matter what I get him, it isn’t going to be good enough.” Even as you’re saying it you can see that he isn’t going to change his mind about this.

“He’s a dick to everybody. That’s inevitable, it just means he’s comfortable with you.” He’s already turning back to his work.

“Please, Steve.”

“No.”

You glare down at him, giving him your angriest look as his gaze tilts back up to meet yours.

When it’s clear that he isn’t going to switch you turn and leave, slamming his office door in the process.

“Don’t forget, I need you here early to help set up for the party!” His muffled voice seeps out into the hall as you walk away.

Once you’re out in your car and far away from prying eyes you unfold the damned slip of paper you’d drawn earlier today.

Javier P.

Of course, you got stuck with fucking Peña, a nickname you’d given him a few months ago. He absolutely hates it but the entire time you’ve worked for the DEA he’s gone out of his way to bother you. Sure, he’s your “friend”, in a strange, complicated way. But he still drives you up the wall with his constant need to one up you and the way he’s constantly making passes at women around the office.

And it’s not like you have any problems with him sleeping around, lord knows you’ve had a fair amount of one night stands, but he just has to hit on every woman you work with.

Every single woman, except you.

You’d never admit it of course but a part of you will always be self conscious about that fact. It doesn’t help that Javier absolutely adores bothering you at every possible moment. He loves nothing more than to pester, annoy, and mock you, spending nearly half his day leaning over your desk despite the million complaints you’ve sent Steve about his persistent partner.

He’ll sit on your desk, doing an endless amount of things to cause you distress. Like crowding you with his cigarette smell and vanilla cologne as he tells you you’re filling papers wrong, or telling you what colors to paint your nails, or solving your cases before you can even get to them, or teasing you about your shitty car. Today he wouldn’t stop bothering you about your weekend plans like he doesn’t already know exactly where you’ll be.

“Are you doing anything this weekend?” He’d asked with that devastating smirk and eyebrow raise combo.

“I have to go buy my secret Santa gift, just like everyone else.” You’d turned away, avoiding eye contact as he scoffed.

“What about Saturday?” He continued to pry, you wanted nothing more than to shove his perfect ass off your desk.

“The Christmas party, Javi. Just like everyone else.” You had sighed, squeezing the bridge of your nose as Emilia had walked past your desk. Javier immediately forgot your entire conversation as he turned to her.

“I love your nails.” He’d pushed his hair out of his face, holding his hand out to take hers, getting a closer look at the well manicured designs.

You had tuned out after that. Not wanting to be involved in the exchange as you went back to typing. Acutely aware of your own nails.

Red chipped paint.

You couldn’t help but wonder what it must be like to be the object of his affection.

It wouldn’t matter if he did hit on you, you would probably reject him anyway.

Probably.

It doesn’t matter, it’s never gonna happen so why let it bother you?

With a sigh you toss the paper into your cup holder, reaching to turn on the radio, maybe some Christmas music will make you feel better. Of course nothing happens as you turn up the volume knob but it makes you want to scream regardless.

Stupid fucking Peña.

Stupid broken radio, stupid shitty car.

“Fuck.” You mumble under your breath as you shift into drive.

Before you know it you’re back in your car in the DEA office parking lot, this time a few things are different though.

You’re dressed nicer, trading your slacks in for a skirt and your dress shirt for a sweater. And of course you now have a small wrapped box in your lap.

Since you had yesterday off for the holiday you spent your Friday at the mall, searching for a gift for Javier. Eventually you had settled on three little things; Nicotine gum, mostly because you’ll get more work done if he isn’t constantly dragging you outside for his smoke breaks. He complains too much about going alone and it’s always been easier not to argue, now he can stay at your desk with his gum. Beard oil, the fancy stuff he always insists on using in his mustache. You’d bought him the wrong kind last year for his birthday and you still haven’t heard the end of it. And a lighter, you had to beg the shop owner to make an exception and do a same day engraving of his birthday.

Jesus.

You know way too much about him.

You arrived two hours early as requested by Steve to help him set up. With the wrapped box tucked under your arm you anxiously tap the patterned wrapping paper with your freshly manicured nails.

“You should paint your nails green, I love green.” He had said through a drag of his cigarette.

Why did you let that idiot's opinions influence this decision? You feel foolish. The green chrome polish shimmering in the street lights in the parking lot as you step into the building. You had extra time while you were waiting for the engraving and you just couldn’t help yourself when the salon was just a few stores away. The image of Javier holding your hand and examining your painted nails while telling you how nice they looked was just too tempting. Maybe he’d even ask if you did it just for him, and you could drag him into a closet at the party, the exact situation you watched unfold last year. Except in that scenario you weren’t the lucky lady he’d run off with that night.

There’s no time to be thinking like that.

You shake off whatever filth you were imagining as you look around the hectic mess of garland and glitter.

Steve is already stressing, setting up tables as you set your gift under the tree before getting to work. The office is already mostly decorated but with his new position as supervisor Steve is insistent that everything be perfect his first Christmas in charge. So you plate food, and you mix drinks exactly as he wants them, and you hold the ladder steady when he insists on putting more lights up. When you’ve got about a half an hour before guests start arriving you’re finishing up and last minute touches, the two of you crowded around a drink tower.

The tension from your conversation yesterday seems to have fizzled out as you become engrossed in your work, when you’ve both finished he gives you an appreciative look.

“Thank you, seriously, it means a lot.” You help him adjust his tie as he straightens out his shirt.

“Anytime, although I’m surprised you didn’t just ask Javier.” You pat his shoulder as you finish, brushing a stray blonde hair out of his eyes.

He laughs, a nervous chuckle that makes you raise an eyebrow but when you open your mouth to comment on it he lets out a relieved sigh as the first of your coworkers arrive.

More people show up than you could have expected.

You stay near Steve for most of the beginning until he gets dragged away by one of the higher ups who had made an appearance, leaving you alone to sip your drink against the back wall. You hum along to a Christmas song that plays loud enough to drown out any conversation you might eavesdrop on to entertain yourself in his absence, your eyes scan the crowds as you try to match up the people you work with with their spouses.

You’re getting ready to find another group to talk to when you catch a glimpse of him standing against the opposite wall, talking to Bonnie, the woman who works in the cubicle next to yours.

Fucking Peña. Dressed in a stupidly tight green dress shirt.

You should leave them alone, especially if he’s trying to make a move on her. But you can’t help it as you make your way around the room towards them, a vague sense of jealousy settling in your stomach.

String lights twinkle across the ceiling of the office, creating a warm ambience throughout the space, just as you’re about to tap him on the shoulder you overhear their conversation.

“I had to beg Steve to switch with me, took an hour of convincing and a week's paycheck but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.” His back is to you as he leans in closer to Bonnie.

He’s probably talking about one of the other women from the office. Steve probably had someone Javier was trying to impress and that’s why Steve didn’t want to trade with you, he had already promised his pick to Javier.

Whatever, you can’t be too bothered about that. It does make you want to return to your spot on the other side of the room but you don’t get the chance to as the music is turned down rather suddenly.

One of the secretaries, Benjamin, stands on a chair, making an announcement that it’s time to do the secret Santa. You manage to twist through the crowds so Javier never sees you, finding his gift and bringing it to where he now stands, simultaneously keeping an eye out for your own gift.

You hand him the box, watching the way his face lights up.

“You picked me?” He grins as you nod, carefully peeling back the wrapping paper as you feel a tap on your shoulder. Benjamin waits behind you, leaning in to whisper while you watch Javier open his gift.

“It was short notice so we didn’t have time to get you a back up gift but your secret Santa told us at the last minute that he forgot to get you something, he promised to bring in something after New Years, I’m so sorry.” You feel a little disappointed as he murmurs but it isn’t that big of a deal, it’s a busy time of year and people can forget things.

“No worries, do you know who it was? I’d like to at least tell them it’s fine.” You turn away from Javier as he smiles at the nicotine gum, Benjamin's eyes flicker from your face to Javier’s before he gives you a sympathetic look, walking away.

Javier traded for your name?

As your head tilts to look at him now you can see the smirk he’s now sporting.

“ …but it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face.”

Javier had made a conscious effort to get your name just so he could not get you something.

Huh.

That doesn’t feel great. The look he gets to see on your face is betrayal and then just sadness. You don’t really care what the reason for his decision is, you turn and walk away from him regardless. If he tries to say something to you it’s drowned out by the music that starts once again.

Why are you so upset over some stupid joke? If it had been anyone else you wouldn’t have cared, you’d have brushed it off as a harmless accident but this wasn’t an accident.

Maybe he didn’t really think of you as a friend.

Maybe all of the teasing and one-upmanship really was from a place of animosity and you were just too blind and too infatuated to see it. You want to cry but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction so you sift through the bowl of keys, searching for the Star Wars keychain attached to your lanyard but you can’t find it. The combination of the blaring Christmas songs with the frustration you’re currently feeling only makes you more emotional.

You don’t want to go to the bathrooms where you might run into someone and you can’t go to Steve’s office because he might be talking to his supervisor, so you go to the only place you know there won’t be people.

Javier’s office.

You walk as quickly as you can, slipping inside as you slam the door shut behind you, clicking the lock in place before turning around, resting against the door as you feel tears spilling from your eyes. It isn’t until he clears his throat that your head snaps up.

Today is just not your day.

Did he know you’d come here? How the hell did he beat you here? He’s fidgeting with the lighter you bought him, watching it light and go out as he sits with your keys in his other hand.

Your face feels hot as you take in the sight of him.

“Give me my keys.” You hold your hand out, wiping your eyes with the other as you wait. Of course he doesn’t hand them over, that would be too easy and today is insisting on being difficult.

“I really liked your gift. Seriously, this is… outrageously thoughtful.” He murmurs, seemingly unaware of your mood until he takes a closer look at you, his expression shifting as he realizes your eyes are rimmed with red. “Why are you so upset? What happened?” He slides open a drawer, tossing your keys into his desk while you consider calling a cab.

What a foolish question.

How could he possibly not know?

“I want to leave, I’m sick of this party.” You turn to leave, maybe Steve can drive you home.

“Come on, the parties barely started.” He’s on his feet, he doesn’t try to corner you, if anything he sets himself against the wall.

“And I want to leave.” When you reach for the doorknob he grabs your wrist, holding it as he stares at you, a look of impatience crosses his face.

“Don’t tell me you’re mad about the secret Santa.” His brows furrow.

“This isn’t about a stupid secret Santa.”

“It sure seems like it is.” He’s still holding your wrist, why is he still holding your wrist?

This isn’t about the secret Santa. It’s a lot more than that, and after ages of keeping your thoughts to yourself in front of him you just let it out.

“This is about the fact that you don’t even care about me enough to make any sort of effort. I know you deliberately chose me, you specifically chose to do this to me and I don’t care that it’s just a stupid prank. It still- It’s still a shitty thing to do.” Your voice starts cracking half way through and you can feel your eyes welling up again but it doesn’t matter anymore, you were wrong, the two of you aren’t friends.

“So this is about the secret Santa.”

Of course he wouldn’t get it.

“You’re an idiot.” You finally pull your wrist from him.

You aren’t sure what else to do so you shove him, his back hitting the wall with a soft thud as you push past him to get to his desk, hoping to grab your keys but he catches your waist first.

“Can you stop being so stubborn for five seconds and just let me explain myself?” You can tell his patience is wearing thin, his voice is strained as he pulls you back against him, caging you against his chest with his arms.

“Fuck Javi- let me go-” You try to kick his knees but he anticipates it, shifting his legs to avoid you.

“Just wait- listen to me.” He swings you around a bit as he tries to still you, you can feel his breath hitching, the buttons of his shirt digging into your back. The two of you thrash around for another moment until you freeze, feeling something poking your hip. When he realizes why you stopped putting up a fight he lets you go in an instant. “Shit- I-I’m sorry.” He stammers as you turn around towards him, eyes wide.

You never thought you’d see Javier Peña flustered yet here he is. When you take a step back his cheeks are burning red, his fingers twitch nervously at his side, and as much as you try to ignore it, his pants are tighter than usual. (And considering how tight they usually are this is quite a feat.) He won’t look you in the eye.

“It- It’s fine, Javi.” You adjust the hem of your skirt, trying to fix your hair. You just can’t catch a break today. “It was an accident, there was a lot of- of friction and it happens. I think I should just go.” You stutter a bit trying to find the right words. This entire evening has been catastrophic, and you’re more than ready to call it a night.

“It’s not an accident.” He mumbles, finally looking at you, not bothering with subtlety as he adjusts himself. “You should probably go.”

If it’s not an accident you don’t want to go.

You want to stay and keep making accidents, starting with rushing forward into him, taking his face in your hands and kissing him. Which is exactly what you do. At first he doesn’t react and you worry you read the situation wrong but when you pull away, just an inch, his hands envelop you.

Hips, waist, back, shoulders, hair. He’s everywhere, all consuming as his teeth graze your lips, in an instant your backside hits his desk.

When he finally does remove his lips from yours his are slick and a tiny bit swollen, his pupils swallow his irises whole.

“I loved your gift, I wasn’t joking, it’s perfect and the last thing I want is for you to think that I don’t care about you. Of course we’re friends, you-” As he rambles on you ball up the end of his tie, unceremoniously shoving it between his teeth.

“Talk later, this now.” You grab the bottom of your sweater, pulling it up over your head, watching his jaw tense at the sight of your chest, his hands playing with the strap of your bra as you hop up onto his desk. Hiking your skirt up, he slots himself between your legs, your own fingers push your panties to the side as he reaches behind you, easily twisting the clasp of your bra to release it, tossing it to the side as his enormous palms engulf your breasts.

You dip your fingers into the wetness between your legs, briefly taking a moment to wonder how you found yourself here. Just moments ago you were ready to leave and consider your friendship with Javier over, yet now you’re spread out on his desk, on display for him as you sink your fingers into your eager cunt.

You don’t get to linger on the thought for long because he groans into the fabric of his tie and you’re pulled back into the moment.

Jesus you’re soaked.

You have no trouble pushing two slick digits into yourself. You can feel the outline of him against your thigh and you know that you need to warm yourself up to take him. He’s too engrossed in your tits to do it right now and you’ve waited too long for this, you don’t want to wait, you just want to have him.

He’s tender at first, squeezing and softly tracing the outline of your areola until he seemingly can’t control himself any longer and he pinches, rolling your nipples between his thumb and pointer finger as your whine. Back arching of the oak of his desk as you curl your own fingers. Even through the tie his moans are still somehow louder than yours, you’re briefly worried about someone hearing as you let out a whimper while he tweaks your nipple but the music’s so loud at the party you can hear Mariah Carey from here.

You don’t stop for a second, putting your focus on reaching the peak that you find yourself already getting startlingly close to. You can feel yourself pulsing as you pick up the pace, reveling in the way his eyes devour the very sight of you. You’re agonizingly close when he grabs your wrist, removing your fingers carefully as you try and resist, wanting to finish what you started, you’re about to whine when he begins unzipping his pants. You can feel your pussy clenching at the very sight of him, of course he isn’t wearing any underwear under his dress pants so the second his zipper is fully down his cock springs free.

Javier fucking Peña has a gorgeous cock.

Standing stiff and proud without either one of you even having to touch it. Pretty and pink on the tip, already leaking down the shaft. And heavy, as he takes it in his hand, his other hand gripping your waist as lines himself at your entrance. He takes a moment, eyes scanning your face, silently asking for permission.

You can’t nod fast enough but the second that you do he slides into you.

You could never conjure up something this good in your fantasies. The way he fills you, stretching you open as he whimpers into the fabric of his tie, you like that he listened, that he kept it in his mouth this long. His strokes are needy and fast, like he’s been waiting for this for so long and now he can’t help but be ravenous. You were already painfully close before he filled you with his perfect cock, it takes only a few minutes for you to be right back there. His fingers dig into your waist so hard that you’re certain he’ll leave marks as he slams in and out of you, pulling out almost entirely with every thrust.

You’re vaguely aware of the sound of his trinkets rolling off his desk and onto the floor.

“Javi, Javi, Javi.” Between gasps you chant his name, the sound encouraging him as he pushes in deep, his pelvis grinding against your clit until you see stars. Your cunt clenching around him as your orgasm is ripped out of you. Messy and loud and blurry, he fucks you through it. You’re so blissed out you can barely focus on the persistent pounding into you until you manage to come back to your senses and his hands leave your waist, instead intertwining with your fingers as his hips twitch forward and you feel him hastily pull out of you.

He spits his tie out, opting to instead bite your shoulder as he comes, the groan that leaves his throat is obscene. Raspy and filthy as he collapses down on top of you, the two of you sweating and gasping amongst the paperwork and pens now scattered across his desk.

Did that really just happen?

He manages to collect himself first, leaning back and tucking himself into his pants before quickly tending to you. He grabs a few tissues, wiping your stomach where the product of your activities lay, before redressing you, slipping the flats that had slipped off, back onto your feet, pulling your skirt back down to cover you as he slides your panties back into place, and retrieving your bra and sweater, lifting you into a sitting position as he redresses you, kissing your cheeks, nose, and forehead the entire time.

“All good?” He whispers, gentler than you’ve ever heard him as you nod, grinning.

“Good enough to make me forgive you for not getting me a present.” You reach into his drawer, grabbing your keys before sliding off of his desk.

“Maybe this was your present.” He tilts his head, kissing you again, smiling all the while.

“That was the perfect gift then.” Probably the best you’ve ever gotten.

“Are you gonna stay for the rest of the party?” He takes your hands in his, his thumbs absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin.

“I think I need to go to bed after that.” You laugh as you jingle your keys, turning towards the door as he catches your lips in another kiss.

It makes your heart flutter. The continued affection makes you think this isn’t a one time thing. You want more. You want conversations about feelings, and to talk about what just happened, you want to feel him inside you again, and the look in his eyes tells you that you’re going to get all of that. But right now you’re tired, so the rest can wait.

“Can I walk you to your car?” You nod as he murmurs.

He doesn’t let go of your hand, walking you out of the building towards your car, opening the door for you and giving you one last kiss with a promise that he’d call you tomorrow, before you watched him walk back into the building.

Your phone buzzes as you turn your key in the ignition, the sound of Wham! fills the car, Last Christmas playing softly. You take your phone out of your pocket, checking the text notification from Javier.

[ i forgot to tell you how pretty your nails are. merry christmas hermosa ]

Your head turns up in surprise as you realize your radio is working. A new radio system is installed in the center of your dashboard, with a little green bow taped to the top, and a paper tag with Javi’s familiar messy handwriting.

from : your secret fucking santa

a/n : happy holidays everyone!!

#pedrostoriesgift23 #lincolndjarin #taro-666 <3 #javier pena smut #javier peña #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal

2K notes · View notes

zablife · 5 months ago

Text

Good Company

Carmen Berzatto x reader

Summary: You've injured yourself on the line and though you try to hide the pain, Carm's there to console you.

A/N: It's been a minute since I wrote for Carm, but this was requested by a lovely anon and I couldn't resist writing it first out of all my new requests. Prompt: "Sit down, you're looking very pale."

Warnings: mention of blood

Carm slouched forward, his aching shoulders rolling forward in repose as he took a long drag. Instantly comforted by the warm smoke filling his lungs, he closed his eyes for a moment, forgetting where he was. The bustling atmosphere of the kitchen could wait, he told himself, forgetting the chaos on the line for a minute of peace.

That is until he heard the heavy metal door slam shut behind him, alerting him to someone likely bearing news of a new crisis. Exhaling a stream of smoke into the starless sky, he crushed his unfinished smoke beneath the toe of his boot and pushed himself up off the ground. "What the fuck is it now?" he spat.

The toss of his head and roll of his eyes caused you to gulp and cautioned you to keep your problems to yourself. Suddenly realizing how insignificant it seemed, you did your best to hide the issue from him.

Just then Carm registered your ashen face in profile. It might have gone unnoticed by anyone else, your features partially hidden in shadow, but Carm noticed everything about you. Since you'd begun working for him two months ago, he'd become so enamored of you, he couldn't help but watch your every movement.

"Wait a second," he blurted, the words barely pushing past his lips. He deeply regretted his bad tempered response, the sharp reply meant for Ritchie had kept you from confiding in him and that wasn't what he wanted. "You...um,...you, okay, Y/n?" he asked, knowing you weren't.

"I'm fine," you mumbled, hand throbbing even as you spoke. You tried to conceal the evidence of your injury in the folds of your apron, but Carm spotted your movement with hawk like precision.

"What happened to your hand?" he asked, craning his neck to see the mess you'd tried to hide.

"It's just a cut, chef. I can handle it," you promised, a dulcet tone belying the fear clutching your heart as you grew woozy. Legs buckling slightly beneath you, Carm rushed to hold you up.

"Sit down, you're looking very pale," he informed you, the gentle tone of his voice soothing you. His strong arms encased you before you fell head first into the bins and he gently guided you to sit on the overturned milk crates. The empathetic expression radiating from his blue eyes told you all would be well, but your disquieted mind refused to accept it.

Carm only needed a single glance at your unfocused eyes to realize you could be going into shock. He sprung into action, fumbling for your arm until the trickles of blood ran over his hands in silent admission. "M gonna get you to a doctor, okay? This needs stitches," he informed you with as much calm as he could muster. "Is that okay?"

You nodded, but didn't speak as he worked to compress the wound.

"Whatsa matter? Never seen a little blood before?" he joked with a lopsided grin.

"Never cut myself," you confessed, biting your lip anxiously.

"Not through school or nothin'?" Carm asked incredulously.

"Guess I've been lucky," you answered, returning his warmth with a weak smile.

"This shit happens all the time," he assured you, holding up his left hand to reveal a long scar carved into his palm. "Welcome to the club," he chuckled.

"Then I'm in good company," you agreed, leaning against his broad shoulder as he ushered you to his car.

-----------------------------

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@reader-hes

#The Bear #Carmen Berzatto #Carmy Berzatto x reader #Carmy Berzatto x you #Carmy Berzatto x y/n

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iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin · 4 months ago

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doctor! doctor! ♡ seok matthew, lpn ♡ the nurseـــــــــﮩ٨ـ

⋆˙⟡ zb1 doctor smut series masterlist! all parts also linked here: nurse!matthew, doctor!jiwoong/med student!gunwook, allergist!taerae, radiology tech!gyuvin/cardiologist!ricky, anesthesiologist!hao/surgeon!hanbin

⋆˙⟡ wc: 1.5k (gonna try to keep these short, but we know me...)

⋆˙⟡ reader: gn afab (no pronouns used to refer to reader)

⋆˙⟡ series summary: eight medical professionals. a sudden illness that gets progressively worse. can reader survive the l-o-v-emergency?

⋆˙⟡ the nurse summary: the male nurse at your new doctor's office is a total asshole. but he's really hot. and so are you, after what was supposed to be a routine physical takes a couple unexpected turns.

⋆˙⟡ warnings: explicit smut. 18+. minors do not interact. please read specific warnings under the cut! angst. lighttt dub-con. matt is a total meanie. little less by the end. explicit mean comments about reader's weight but it's only because he's literally an asshole. smut is fairly light-ish, but we're just getting started so let's let it simmer for now.

⋆˙⟡ l-o-v-emergency scale: ★☆☆☆☆ (1)

GUYS HEY! I'M ALIVE! who's glad? not me. anyway, i've been working in a medical setting for over 2 months now and this series was birthed bc i couldn't stop thinking about how matthew would look in a good set of athletic (specifically magenta) scrubs. okay, hopefully i don't abandon this project!! ily. always. don't forget. <3

⋆˙⟡ iwnfyshb full masterlist

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: fingering/heavy petting (reader receiving), dub-con kind of sort of idk better safe than sorry, matt is very mean, inappropriate use of medical equipment (?), yeah i think that's good for now.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

it’s a regular monday morning. nothing out of the ordinary at all. though it’s a bit chilly outside, the sun is shining on this lovely february day.

you’re at the doctor’s office, sitting in the waiting room for your annual physical. your primary care physician had retired at the end of last year, so you’d scheduled your first appointment with a doctor at a completely new practice. they were so new, in fact, that they didn’t really have any google reviews yet except for one that just said: went above and beyond.

and they also accept your insurance, so there’s that.

though it’s late in the year for it, you’re also hoping to get a flu shot after about eight different strains of influenza ravaged your workplace this week. but you feel very healthy. you actually feel great.

usually you’re called in a bit faster for an appointment, but today it takes about ten minutes before the door to the medical entrance finally bursts open. it slams against the wall, startling both you and the elderly woman sitting a few seats away from you.

“ah, shit, sorry,” a voice mumbles and your eyes follow to put a face to it. standing in front of you is an incredibly attractive male nurse who squints at his clipboard. “uh… (y/n)?”

you stand up quickly, putting your phone in your coat pocket and walking up to the nurse. up close, you can see his name tag says: matthew.

“sick,” matthew says quietly, pointing down the hall to a scale. “we’re gonna head over there.”

you walk with him to the scale, jumping again when the door to the waiting room slams loudly.

“ah, shit. sorry,” he says again. you step on the scale, only to hear snickering next to you a moment later.

“uh… is something funny?” you ask with a frown.

“maybe take the coat off,” matthew suggests with a smirk. “we’re wanting a weight good for humans, not for whales.”

your eyes widen in shock. not really sure how to respond, you simply take your coat off and place it on the chair next to you. matthew leans over your shoulder, encroaching a little too liberally on your personal space bubble, and huffs confusedly.

“huh. i really thought that’d help more,” he says, jotting your (extremely normal) weight down onto his clipboard and shrugging. “anyway, we’re gonna be in room 3, on your left here.”

was he being purposefully rude or was he just painfully oblivious? a little more irritated than you had expected to be during this visit, you follow your nurse into the exam room and take a seat on the exam table.

“whoah, there,” he says with a laugh as he sits down on a stool beside the medical counter. “careful not to break the table after that weigh-in.”

you’re about to ask him what his problem is when matthew suddenly rolls up the already short sleeves on his magenta scrub top, revealing big, toned biceps underneath. goddamn, he was gorgeous.

but it didn’t give him a right to make comments about your body.

“wh—… why do you keep—…” you nervously start to confront him before he interrupts.

“just gonna get a reading on the pulse oximeter,” matthew announces, grabbing your hand from your lap and sticking the device on the tip of your index finger. “cool nails.”

“thanks,” you find yourself replying quietly. you don’t think you’ve ever met a nurse who lacked bedside manner this badly.

“i’ve been giving you a hard time, but you’re sorta hot actually,” he says, matter-of-factly as he snatches your hand again suddenly to check the oximeter. his bluntness and close proximity causes your heart to involuntarily race, and he bites his lip in a conceited grin as he reads the numbers on the device. “100 bpm… something getting you excited?”

you should stand up and walk out the door right now. report him to the reception desk. you figured there had to be some setbacks to a completely new, unreviewed practice, but this was beyond acceptable. no one should be allowed to behave so unprofessionally in a medical setting.

you look him directly in the eyes. about to rip him a new one.

but holy fuck, this absolute dickhead is hot. your brain starts to feel a bit foggy just looking at him.

“are you sure you’re feeling okay today?” matthew asks, removing the oximeter and placing it on the counter. he takes a thermometer out of the pocket of his scrub top and walks over to you— casually situating himself in the gap you’d left between your legs. “i’m gonna take your temperature just in case.”

he holds the thermometer in front of your forehead for a moment, the device buzzing when it has a reading. “hm. all good here. i’m just gonna check one more spot to make sure.”

before you can ask what that means, he moves the thermometer between your legs— pressing it over your clothed core. it buzzes against your clit and you’re unable to suppress a whimper in your shock.

matthew licks his top lip as he drinks in the sound, removing the thermometer and reading the temperature. he clicks his tongue sadly. “just what i thought. you’re burning up, baby.”

“this—… this is—….” you make one last (very weak) attempt to protest this nonsense. “i mean, you really shouldn’t be—…”

“shouldn’t be what?” he asks, fingers now taking the place of the thermometer on your clothed heat. as he massages you gently, you inhale sharply at how nice his touch feels. “doing my job? i’m just getting you ready for the doctor, baby. that’s all.”

you don’t have a clue as to what that’s supposed to mean. and you’re starting to forget why you care as he hooks his fingers around your waistband. reflexively, you lift your hips for him and he pulls down your pants— discarding them on the chair next to the exam table and leaving you in just your panties on the medical paper lining.

matthew pushes them aside with his thumb before prodding at your entrance with his middle finger. “just a small pinch,” he warns as he slips it inside.

you inhale sharply as the full length of his digit fills you. he smirks again, making use of his thumb against your clit as he starts to fuck you with his finger. you begin to whine as a steady pressure forms below your stomach.

“how’s that, hm? feel good?” you nod, growing more desperate for your release. matthew laughs as he pushes another finger inside of you. you can’t help but moan, hand finding its way to grip at the neck of his scrub top. “listen to that. doc’s gonna love you. you could still stand to lose a few pounds though, not gonna lie.”

you hate this guy. you must’ve had a psychotic break at some point between the waiting room and this exam table. but something’s come over you— something almost feverish— and the desire to complain just keeps getting smaller.

“please,” you beg emphatically, fingers of your free hand wrapping around the edge of the exam table as your climax threatens to spill over. “just shut the fuck up and make me cum.”

“fuck,” he breathes, the tips of his fingers curling up into the spongey spot in your upper wall with even more vigor. “okay. okay, yeah. just don’t tell the doctor i let you cum. got it?”

“y-yeah,” you agree half-heartedly— still unsure as to what the doctor has to do with this mean, hot nurse committing a crazy hr violation on you. but you just need release. so you humor him. “whatever.”

matthew presses his thumb hard against your clit and that’s all it takes— your orgasm washing over you as you feel your juices slip down your inner thighs. “fuck, that’s hot. makes me wish i got to finish ‘em off more often.”

more often? a post-climax clarity begins to set in as you wonder what on earth this guy is talking about. but that clarity only lasts a few moments before you start to shake with a chill you swear is bone-deep.

“get up, i’m gonna clean things up quick,” matthew orders casually, changing the paper liner on the table and throwing you some moist towelettes as you stagger off your perch. “clean yourself off good, ‘kay? i really don’t wanna get in trouble for—… hey, are you okay?”

your hands are shaking as you wipe your thighs and core clean of any traces, shivering beyond your control. matthew takes the towelettes from you, chucking them in the garbage. he tilts his head at you, concern suddenly palpable in his eyes.

"you—… you don’t look so good,” he says, placing the back of his hand against your forehead. when he pulls it away, you see the skin glisten. are you sweating? but it’s so cold. matthew pulls out his thermometer again, holding it between your eyes until it pulses. he pulls it back, eyes widening as he reads the temperature. “oh shit.”

"what?” you ask, rubbing your hands against your arms to try and generate some warmth. “what’s it say?”

"um. i—… i don’t know what’s going on,” he stammers, suddenly doe-eyed and nervous. it’s the most endearing he’s been thus far. something must be terribly wrong with you. “i think it’s probably just a fluke. maybe the thermometer’s broken. right? there’s no way it could be that high. you’d be dead. i’m—… i’m just gonna go get the doctor. he’ll know what to do! probably.”

“okay,” you reply. not much more you can say, especially with your teeth chattering.

"just, uh, sit back down and… um… rest, i guess. yeah, rest should help,” matthew says, quite clearly panicking. “and i’ll send the doctor in. and just, um, remember not to tell him what i let you do. please. i’d really appreciate that. if it comes up, ya know, just…”

“lie?” you suggest, plopping down onto the exam table as you continue to shiver furiously.

“yeah! exactly. you’ve got it,” he replies, rushing toward the door. “oh and the doctor has a med student interning with him today. is it okay to have him shadow your appointment?”

“sure,” you agree without hesitation. education is one of your core values, after all. even if you suddenly have a life-threatening fever to rival a volcano.

“awesome,” matthew says, throwing open the door. he glances back at you one last time, uneasiness written all over his pretty face. “hang in there.”

the door slams shut. really loudly.

“ah, shit. sorry.”

162 notes · View notes

allthemeninmybed · 3 months ago

Text

The itch - Part II

Summary: Reader is a friend of the band but III doesn’t like her too much and the feeling is mutual. Or is it?

Pairing: III x fem!reader

Warnings: +18 language, slight exhibitionism

Word count: 3800ish

A/N: I hope you like it, please, don’t forget to give me feedback! And let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part! 🖤

Almost three weeks have passed since that night and you've been avoiding him ever since. It wasn't hard since they're on a mini UK tour but today they play at home and you cannot not go, it would be too suspicious.

The show was insane as always, you're backstage waiting for them to come off stage. You're releived that you're meeting under these circumstances, in front of the others, you don't know how you'd behave if there were just the two of you.

“There she is!”

IVy is the first one to spot you, grinning widely as he walks towards you, arms spread wide open. He pulls you in a tight hug, he's thrilled to see you. You can faintly hear III scoff somewhere in the background but no one pays him any mind, too busy chatting amongst themselves eagerly about the concert.

"Hi guys, great show, as per usual."

You smile as ach of them gives you a hug, except for III, obviously. You're chatting and catching up and you try not to dwell on what he might think of you. After a while you say your excuses to go out for a smoke, hearing footsteps behind you immediately as you step out to the corridor.

It's him.

III follows you out with a grim expression. He’s been watching you, the sight of your laugh, the feel of your hug greeting the rest of the band driving him crazy. He’s been itching to get you alone, to confront you about the way you’ve been avoiding him. You walk out into the night, the dim light of the hallway casting shadows on your face. He catches up to you in a few long-legged strides, his voice low and gruff.

“Give me one.”

His tone is commanding and your stomach is already in a knot from what is about to come out of this. You reach out your pack and you watch as his long fingers pull out a cigarette hastily. He looks at you, his eyes are almost glowing in the low light and you know you're fucked. He's gonna confront you, you can't avoid him anymore.

He lights the cigarette, taking a long pull, his eyes never leaving your face. He can see the tension in your body, the discomfort in your eyes, and it only adds to the anger and agitation that’s been brewing inside him for weeks. The smoke fills the space between you and he exhales slowly.

“You gonna ignore me all night?”

He mutters, his voice a rough, gravelly sound.

"I'm not ignoring you."

You state, in a hardly believable tone before raising the cigarette to your lips, taking a long drag. You need more time to figure out what to say, god, you should've prepared yourself for this.

“Bullshit.”

He scoffs, his eyes narrowing as he takes a step closer to you, invading your personal space with his tall frame.

“You’ve been avoiding me like a bloody plague for three weeks. You're always there at the UK shows but not this time, no.”

He can’t keep the frustration out of his voice, a mixture of anger and hurt in his eyes.

He knows you're lying, of course he does, he's not an idiot but you keep pretending.

"Very self-absorbed of you to think it has anything to do with you."

You snap back trying to keep the distance, trying to remain cold.

“Cut the bullshit.”

He hisses back, his patience running thin. He closes the already narrow space between you, his body mere inches from yours. His eyes are fixed on your face, his jaw clenched.

“You don’t think I’ve noticed? You don’t think I’ve seen you dodging me, avoiding me, pretending I don’t exist? You think I’m daft? You’re a terrible liar, love.”

The nickname slips out his mouth again, almost effortlessly.

"Why do you care so much..? To my best knowledge you don't even like me. It should be a blessing that I'm ignoring you, don't you think?"

You're still buying time, unsure of what outcome you want for this situation. You look at him with intense eyes, exhaling the smoke out your nostrils.

“Don’t play dumb…”

He growls, his eyes hardening as he tries to keep himself under control.

“Don’t act like you don’t know why I care."

He swallows hard, fighting the urge to touch you.

"I just want to know why you can’t even look me in the eye after what happened that night.”

His voice gone soft with his last sentence and it throws you off your balance. You're not used to him like this, you know him as cocky, as kind of hostile, you can work with that.

But not this.

"I was drunk that night, I didn't know what I was doing."

The fuck were you drunk, you were merely tipsy but you won't admit that.

His heart stutters in his chest, a brief flash of hurt and disappointment passing across his face. He tries to mask it with a scoff but he’s not quick enough and you see it.

“Are you serious? You’re pulling the ‘I was drunk’ card on me?"

His voice is low and harsh, his jaw tight. He hates the sound of bullshit as much as he hates how much he wants to shut you up with his lips.

“Drunk my arse. You weren’t drunk and we both know it. Don’t insult me by assuming I'd believe it.”

Killing your cigarette you're staring at the ground, you have to admit that he got you cornered both physically and logically.

"What do you want me to say then, huh?"

You lash out, not so much on him but rather on yourself out of frustration.

"That I got scared? That I got confused by you so much that I couldn't carry on with what I truly wanted to do..?"

Your voice is trembling.

III’s heart nearly explodes at your words and it makes something snap in him, his self control disappearing.

"What exactly did you want to do, huh?"

He grabs your elbow, his grip tight, pulling you against him in a desperate bid to make you look at him.

"Let me go."

You hiss.

"No."

He almost growls as he wraps his other hand around your other elbow, yanking you even closer, your body slamming into his chest causing him to let out a shaky exhale. He’s got you right where he wants you, trapped between him and the wall, no escape.

God, he's stronger than he lets out, you're taken aback by the intensity of his grip though you'd hate to admit how much you love his hands on your body.

"I wanted to kiss you, I wanted you to kiss me, anything to be close to you."

The words fall out of your mouth, feeling a strange sort of relief finally saying them out loud you continue.

"I wanted you not to leave me, to come up to my flat.."

Fuck.

He nearly growls as he hears your words, every one of them stabbing through his chest, his eyes burning with desire and something more… something dangerous.

“Why didn’t you then?”

He mutters, his lips only inches away from yours. He’s breathing so hard his chest is heaving, his words coming out in short puffs of hot air.

"Fuck, why didn't I then..do you hear yourself? You.. you actively insult me, belittle me and make me feel unwanted, what do you think I feel when despite all these things I still want you?"

You're almost tearing up from the frustration.

"And for fuck's sake, you can have anyone, why would you want me, don't make me laugh."

Your voice is quiet, you're unable to mask how hurtful the thought is to you.

"Now let me go."

His blood runs cold at your words. It feels like someone has just stabbed him right through the heart, all the guilt and frustration he suppressed bubbling to surface, threatening to tear him apart.

"You really need me to spell it out for you?"

He growls, pulling you to him roughly, pinning you against the wall, his body flush against yours, his breath hot on your skin, his eyes burning with intensity.

He continues, his voice low and ragged, his mind clouded with desire.

"I want you. For some insane, inexplicable reason… I want you. Do you know what I fantasized about, for weeks? I've got this perfect imagination…"

His voice is barely above a whisper now, his lips grazing against your neck, not quite touching your skin, just close… so close.

“I imagined how your skin would feel against my fingers… how it'd look with my marks on it…”

He moves to the other side of your neck now, his body pressing hard against yours, his muscles taut, his heart racing, like he’s about to run a marathon.

"Oh fuck..."

You whisper, you're clinging to him, your hands coming to his shoulders.

He growls at the sound of your voice, low and needy. His hands are on you like he just can’t get close enough.

“I’ve had images in my head… of all this beautiful hair spilled over my pillow, of you coming undone under me…”

He whispers as he moves his hands to your head, his fingers combing through your hair gently.

“Of those lips, of this gorgeous mouth…”

He moves his thumb across your lower lip before pulling it down gently, his gaze focused on your mouth. His breath hitches as he continues.

“Of how my name would sound on your tongue...”

He's acting so different, so out of character that you honestly don't know how to react to him other than moaning softly. Your hands are on his now, the feeling of his fingers moving under yours driving you crazy, craving more. As his thumb grazes your bottom lip again you involuntarily place a soft little wet kiss on it, surprising yourself.

The moment your lips meet his thumb, he nearly growls again, his body feeling like it's on fire. His eyes are dark pools of desire, his whole being screaming to take, to claim.

"Holy fuck.."

He mutters in ragged breaths as he pushes you harder against the wall, the sound of your moan shooting straight to his cock. His hand leaves your hair and goes to your hip, holding you tightly to him.

"Do it again...please.."

You do as he says, this time looking into his eyes as you kiss his thumb gently, fighting the urge of sucking it into your mouth.

He’s breathing so hard it’s like he’s sprinted a marathon, his eyes dark and unfocused. Seeing you look at him so intently, so open and needy… it’s too much.

"Bloody.. Jesus, fuck.. "

He says softly, his hand slipping from your hip to your ass, his grip tight and possessive. He closes his eyes tight, his face close to yours.

"Don’t look at me like that."

His grip on you softens a bit but he keeps you pinned against the wall, his body still pressed tightly against yours from head to toe.

"Makes me crazy, thinking… imagining things…"

He mutters, his hand slipping into your hair, his fingers tracing your neck in a maddeningly soft manner.

"What..what things..?"

You ask whispering, relishing in his attention, how his every movement is almost reverent, he's touching you sensually. The fact that you haven't kissed yet is making this whole situation even more heated, erotic even.

His breath hitches as he hears the words spill from your lips, his eyes fixated on yours as the memories of the fantasies he’s been having wash over him.

“Filthy things. Naughty things.”

He mutters, his fingers tracing down your neck, his body pressing impossibly tighter against you. he moves in closer until his lips are almost brushing against your ear.

His hot breath against your ear combined with what he's saying makes you shiver, you can't take it anymore.

"Tell me, please...I deserve to know.."

His brain seems to be short circuiting at the sound of your pleading voice, his eyes fixed on your face, the way your lips look so damn kissable, pink and pouty and oh so soft… he wants to taste them so bad it physically hurts but you’re asking him to talk, you’re asking for him to spill his mind, his most shameless thoughts and feelings, and in return…?

God, this is insane.

He hesitates for a second before he swallows hard, and whispers in your ear, his words coming out in a ragged breath.

"I imagined you on your knees, looking up at me just like this..with your lips around my.."

He doesn’t finish sentence, he can’t bring himself to do it. Instead he lets the words hang thick in the air between you while leaning closer to you, his lips hovering over yours for a few seconds before he places a hesitant little peck on them, his former confidence long gone.

He’s trembling, his body shaking, he’s not looking at you as he speaks, he’s avoiding your eyes, his tone is rough and breathy, like each individual word is a struggle.

"You want me to tell you more, huh? You want to listen to me spilling all the filthy things my sick mind’s come up with..?”

You kiss him back, just as softly as he did before.

"Yes..."

He swears under his breath, his entire being consumed by the sensation of your lips against his, even just for a split second. It’s making him want more, he wants to taste every inch of you, he wants to drown in you.

"You’ll regret it if I do."

He mutters against your mouth, his hands shaking as they rest on your face, so close to claiming your lips again.

"I highly doubt that."

You dart your tongue out, making contact with his lips in a quick lick. You enjoy how slowly you're moving, you hope no one interrupts you, you want to keep going for as long as possible.

His eyes widen at the feeling of your tongue on his lip, the small, soft, barely-there touch makes him moan despite himself, his fingers digging hard into your skin.

“Fucking little tease….”

You smirk as his fingers are gripping your chin and jawline, keeping you in place as now he licks into your mouth slowly. You feel like never before, this is the single most erotic experience you've ever had and you hardly even kissed. You can't swallow your moans, imagining the work of his tongue somewhere else too.

His brain feels like it’s going to explode when he hears that moan spill out of your mouth, his own lips parting with a gasp. Hearing you whimper and moan has him rock hard in his jeans, his hips involuntarily bucking against you. His tongue slips between your parted lips, his thoughts getting dirtier by the second. He’s going crazy, the wet softness of your mouth against his making his mind spin.

“Fuuuuck...”

He moans, his lips moving desperately against yours now, his control slowly slipping away.

"You think I wasn't imagining things about you..? That I wasn't fantasizing, creating fake scenarios in my head nearly every night about you..?"

You've found your confidence and it feels liberating.

He can barely breathe, his mind and body consumed by what you’re saying. Hearing how badly you wanted him, how much you craved him… He’s almost panting now, his fingers sliding into your hair, his body pressing closer to you like it’s trying to melt into you.

“Fuuuuckk, tell me….tell me what you were imagining… Please.”

He begs, the words sounding so foreign on his lips.

He's showing a new side of him, needy, desperate, vulnerable. Traits you've never seen him present before.

"The same thing as you.. what you didn't dare say out loud.."

Your hands cup his face, pulling him closer to you, your breath fanning over his lips.

"On my knees in front of you..wrapping my lips around your cock.."

Your voice is painfully quiet but you know he hears you all too well.

His head is spinning, his mind reeling with the image of you like that, he wants to ask for more specific details but his words are caught in his throat. He’s completely coming undone, at the mercy of your every word.

“Oh… fuuuccck…”

He stutters, his mind replaying the same image, over and over, of your lips wrapped around his cock.

“Please….please….”

He’s begging now, his eyes begging for something, desperate.

"Please what..? What do you need..? I'd give anything.."

You say in a breathy voice, placing a soft kiss on his lips again, short enough to ruin his chance of kissing you back.

His mind is filled with thoughts he can’t begin to comprehend, your words and your kisses are a drug, he’s addicted already but he wants more.

"You...I n-need you..."

He mutters as he tries to catch your lip again, only to be denied.

"Fuuu-ck...please, let me kiss you."

His voice sounds pathetic, pleading, desperate.

Good, you got him begging for you, who would've thought. You open your mouth slightly before biting down your bottom lip as an invitation, waiting for him to kiss you properly.

He practically growls at the sight of you biting down on your lip, the urge to taste it too strong to ignore. Without a moment’s hesitation, he dives in, his lips claiming yours with an almost feral intensity.

The kiss is hot and messy, sloppy and needy. The way his lips are moving against yours is borderline unhinged, it’s like all the frustrations of the last three weeks has finally been unleashed in this one kiss.

His grip on you tightens, his hands almost desperate to touch every inch of your body, to claim it, to make it his. He moans into the kiss, the sound low and feral, his body moving against yours with purpose. One of his knees moves between your legs, pushing up, just enough to press against your core, to let you feel how badly he wants you.

You gasp into his mouth as you feel his knee between your legs. Fuck, this is getting too heated, you're in public and it's almost a miracle that no one has caught you yet.

His body feels like it’s on fire, the heat from your core is driving him mad. He bites down on your lower lip, his tongue flicking against it as he pulls back for a split second.

“Bloody hell….”

He grunts, his knee pressing against you even harder, desperate to feel as much of you as possible. He buries his face in your neck, his lips hungrily attaching to the sensitive skin of your throat, sucking and licking it with fervor.

"Aahh..."

You moan into his ear as you're grinding against his knee, your body's out of sync with your mind. You know you need to stop, you need to be the voice of reason for both of you, but boy is it hard.

He presses his knee harder against you, enjoying the way you're grinding against him, the sound of your moans sending chills down his spine. He bites down on your neck, hard, the need to leave his mark on you overwhelming.

"I want you so fuuucking bad..."

He moans against your skin, the words coming out as a guttural growl.

"Please...let me take you home."

"Yes, please... we shouldn't be doing this here.."

You whisper, stopping the grinding you pull away from him quickly, as if it was forbidden to be this close to him.

He feels a pang of disappointment as he feels your body pull away, a sharp feeling of emptiness taking over him. He wants to pull you back, to hold you against him, to keep the moment going, but he’s also right, you’re in public after all.

"Yeah... yeah, you’re right."

He says, taking a step back, his eyes still hooded and dark.

"You… you’re ok coming to my place?"

At the same time you're opening your mouth to reply we hear IVy calling for him from the corridor.

Thank god you stopped doing what you were.

You quickly put another cigarette in your mouth, offering one to him again, as if covering your tracks.

"My place. Text me when you're finished here."

You say hastily before IVy steps out the back door and joins you.

III's eyes dart between you and IVy, his mind still a bit rattled from what just happened. He takes the cigarette you offer him, grateful for an excuse to act normal, to cover up the tension that's still between you. He nods slightly in agreement, his mind still reeling from the intensity of your moment together.

"Yeah… I'll text you."

He mutters, his gaze lingering on you for just a second too long before IVy's voice snaps you both back to reality.

"Hey, there you are."

IVy says with a smirk, noticing the tension between you two, but not fully grasping the situation.

III quickly snaps back, shaking off the intimate moment with a casual demeanor.

"Yeah, just grabbing a smoke."

He says, his voice a bit tighter than usual.

You're grateful for both how quickly he can switch back to somewhat normal and how IVy is almost oblivious to what is going on between you. You're chatting casually, smoking when IVy asks you about the after party.

"So, what’s the plan for the after party then?"

He asks, his tone somewhat playful. III, still trying to play it cool, responds with a casual shrug.

"I think I'm skipping it tonight, I'm tired as fuck."

You say trying to sound indifferent but inside you're screaming. You know III can't dodge it but all you can think about is him in your apartment, in your bed, in your arms. You know he wants the same but he has to show face.

IVy nods, taking another drag of his cigarette, his curiosity piqued by your response.

"You’re skipping the after party? That’s not like you."

He comments, his eyes flickering between you and III, trying to read the situation. Meanwhile, III’s heart is racing as he hears your words, his mind still replaying the intensity of what just happened. He wants nothing more than to ditch the after party and go to yours, but duty calls.

"I know, I know, but something's off, feeling a little bit under the weather."

"Damn, that’s too bad."

IVy says with a slight frown, his concern for your health evident. Meanwhile, III's heart is thumping in his chest, his fingers twitching at your lie, trying hard not to smirk.

After a while IVy goes back inside and you know III has to go with him, there's no excuse for him. When he starts walking inside you squeeze his forearms quickly, stopping him in his way.

"Text me, when you're finished. I'll be waiting."

Your tone is low, you speak catiously.

III nods, the touch of your hand sending sparks through his body. He meets your gaze, his eyes burning with intensity as he responds in a hushed, deep voice.

"I will. I’ll be there as soon as I can."

There’s a part three coming! Stay tuned loves.

My lovely tag list so far 🖤

@yeehaw-my-guys

@iiischeckeredsocks

@kenjipepsi1

@prettypinkporkchop

@moonlightstels

@newport23

@antoniamarie1989

@yandere-wishes

#iii #iii sleep token #iii x reader #iii sleep token x reader #sir token the third #iii imagine #sleep token fanfic #iii sleep token fanfic

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teamred · 10 months ago

Note

re: your tags - I am dying to know about your Wade’s sister!reader x Logan fic, omg that sounds so fun 👀💖

-@eupheme

omg hi j!!! @eupheme (gonna tag you in case the ask post doesn't do it)

i actually have two wade's sister!reader x logan fics in the works! i hope you don't mind me sharing both~

the one i was referring to in my tags is called "dusk till dawn".

summary: vanessa is kidnapped, so while wade runs off to save her, he assigns logan to be reader's bodyguard. however, they don't get along, but they start to fall for each other over time.

it'd be a road trip/motel hopping au with lots of banter, sharing one bed, tension, angst, and steamy moments of course 👀

i'm taking inspiration from some of the moments with logan and mariko from the wolverine (2013) movie!

i'd love to share snippets, but it's really in the draft stages right now!!

second fic i have is called "can't help myself" (title tentatitive)

summary: wade only has one rule for logan: his sister is completely off-limits. but of course, logan never plays by the rules, and you couldn't give two shits about what your dumb-ass brother says.

this one would be more of a fun fic!! just like messing with wade but also having fun with logan and lowkey falling for him too

lots of dialogue, especially with wade, smut, fluff, etc. just a vibes fic

wouldn't be as long as the other fic - i wrote quite a bit for this already! here's a snippet of the intro:

“Don't look at her,” Wade paces around his apartment’s living room, listing the things Logan, his new roommate, should avoid when he meets his sister tomorrow. “Don't breathe in her presence, don't even think about her, and especially don't—”

“What, ya gonna tell me I can’t fuck her next?” Logan cuts in with an amused chuckle, reclining on the living room couch with a hand above his head.

“Yes, bingo!” Wade exclaims, pointing at him excitedly. “Exactly that, you geriatric sexy vampire. Or should I technically say vampire hunter?” He pauses, wondering for a moment.

“Anyways,” he continues, “you can have any woman you want in this new universe—hell, I’ll cry my heart out every night after my evening jerk-off seshes, but you can even have Vanessa—but my sister? We’re gonna have a repeat of the Honda Odyssey fight, Wolvie, and that won’t be a pretty sight to see.”

“Okay,” Logan replies, getting up from the couch and heading toward the kitchen. “I’ll make sure to fuck your sister until she forgets the fact that she's your sister. Got it.”

“Hey!” Wade smacks him on the back as he’s bent over, trying to grab a beer from the fridge. A low growl escapes from him. “I’m being serious here.”

“When are you ever serious?” Logan asks, popping off the beer cap with his thumb.

“Now! I am being serious now.” Wade’s voice rises before he takes a second to compose himself, closing his eyes and inhaling slowly. Logan watches him carefully, sipping his beer.

“Please, Logan,” he barely whispers, avoiding eye contact.

The silence, punctuated only by Logan’s sipping, feels uncomfortable and heavy. Finally, Logan lets out a sigh.

“Fine,” he grunts. “I won’t get involved with your sister.”

Wade breaks into a relieved smile and extends his pinky. “You promise?”

Despite Logan rolling his eyes and shaking his head, he ends up hooking his pinky around Wade’s, sealing the deal.

Except Wade doesn’t see Logan’s other hand behind his back, with his middle and index fingers crossed over another.

#eupheme #cee.q&a #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #i think i overshared but i'm always game to share what i'm currently working on ahhh #on top of that i'm currently working on that wade fic that i got inspired from your post!!#i love working on ideas but executing them?? we shall see.... HAHA #thanks for being interested j!!! <3

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jazeswhbhaven · 4 months ago

Text

The Nation Where Chocolate Melts the Fastest | React | Days 6-11

Wow so this month went by so damn fast??? But I mean...I guess February usually does anyway right?

So as I said in my audio react here for the first half, I was gonna write about the second part! I'm going to try my best to keep it just limited to this post only as for whatever reason, my posts keep getting yeeted off the main whb tag? Maybe it's because I haven't been posting lately so maybe that's why but at the same time it could just be tumblr being tumblr.

ANYWAYS quick recap ->

🖤Amon, MC, and Naberius are in Abaddon right now on a mission to meet the Abaddon nobles during their travels Nabe is going over every single rule and incident that has been caused by these powerful two in the first place. 🖤We find out that MC accepting chocolates in Hell during valentines day means they are pretty much down for whatever, sex mostly 🖤We go over the 3 'Hole' incidents, the first one which wasn't properly recorded, the second one caused by Dantalian causing trouble in Heaven, and then the third from Belphie ripping off Ronove's eye mask causing him to multiply

Now here we are to the second half of the event

SUMMARY TIME

🖤So as we learned in the past 5 days, Dantalian has a kink where loves to be injured, damaged, possibly killed, you name it while Ronove brings that desire forth by influencing others to cause harm. So when Ronove multiples, this means...that everyone is affected at the same time. Including angels. This is why him multiplying into 100s and 1000s of himself is problematic. Everyone would basically die.

🖤Once Ronove's desires are satisfied, his clones will start to disappear but he multiples so fast it's pretty much impossible to keep up with said clones. This isn't like Beel's clones at all or his flies. This is pure chaos.

🖤The only reason that everything is chill, is because of Dantalian believe it or not! He prevented the 3rd Hole incident from annihilating both Heaven and Hell in the first place.

🖤A cute thing to mention btw is that MC had Amon eat some of his own chocolate which he decided "oh it's the chocolate you're giving me right? to basically say they're giving him chocolates back. Nabe gets jealous but doesn't show it, and MC ends up giving him some chocolate too. Cuties.

🖤So back to the reason that Dantalian stopped Ronove is because his desire cancels out Ronove's. Because of the desire to torture Dan, all of his clones came back and everyone was able to put Ro's eyemask back on. The law now is that Dantalian must always accompany Ronove in battles and vise versa. To prevent such things from happening.

🖤So we get to see the front of Asmo's castle and it's pretty fucking big. Also, Ronove is there to greet them as their own personal escort! He mentions..."it's been a while" further confirming that the card stories are canon because the first time we saw Ro was in Satan's Torture card.

🖤I love btw how Nabe is on guard dog mode this entire time

🖤So to get through the gates, it takes a fucking hour to do so. Ronove knows the way and is attacked by wet papers that will suffocate him if he doesn't recite all the names to prove he has access inside the castle. So yeah, my ass would definitely be taking that nap with Amon lmao

🖤Also what I don't like about even though the card stories seem to be canon within one another, MC apparently forgets certain details. Such as being worried that Ronove not being able to breathe for an hour when he can go days and weeks when his power of speech is used for spells.

🖤So now we're inside the "red cage!" it's empty too as all of the devils inside are off either making something or doing small activities and missions assigned by Asmo.

🖤There's four floors in total, the more important the devil the higher up. Meaning Asmo's room is at the very top if we had to guess and devils like Ronove and Dantalian are on the third floor. We also meet some guards along the way, and it appears that each interact with Ronove differently. One was slightly intimidated and the Second floor guard was annoyed, and he looks familiar btw...the same guard that was watching over Zepar when he came to help MC be disguised as a lower rank angel in Levi's Torture card (the silhouette is the same)

🖤So because MC is the descendant of Solomon...they are being escorted through the shortcut the same as the kings would use. Now I imagine regular degular folks like ourselves would probably take years to get through just one floor.

🖤So on the second floor we run into Seere, and if anyone remembers I believe that is the exact same devil Levi asked for a spell/talisman something like that to help him infiltrate MC's dream for his School Uniform card. But basically Seere just tried to jigglypuff his way to MC's dreams with a song lmao

🖤That's over and done with though, Ronove pretty much just kicking "red flesh???" (what was he just crumpled into a ball on the floor?) and stopping Seere from singing anyways

🖤So we're now on the third floor. There's no guard and we meet Dantalian, who gets slapped by MC immediately (i'm pretty sure he influenced that lmao)

🖤So as MC witnesses Dan's influence is strong...and he's very pissed off that Ronove interferes with that such as stopping him from self-harming but also I'm sure he keeps Ronove in check too

🖤We also see that Ronove and Dantalian go hand in hand. and now they seem to be targetting MC since they are the guest of the hour. And Nabe thinks they're up to something so he starts quoting the big ass rule book at them (he's such a class president lmao)

🖤It turns out though that MC was never in any danger, Ronove and Dan were just gonna give them chocolates 💀 so there he is jumping the gun again (but I mean from what he said could happen I do get it but yeah he gotta chill)

🖤And the chocolate gesture is the same! Back when Solomon was alive, it also appeared to be the same traditions but also it seems that giving chocolates to Solomon was never that important to begin with, just something to do if a devil felt like it. For Ro and Dan they did it because they got something out of it. IN this case the desire. Dan got choked out while the chocolate melted on his tongue and Ro was being bitten while Solomon ate said chocolate at the same time so yah grandaddy a freak.

🖤MC didn't really have anything to give them, but that's interrupted anyways by Asmo showin' up out of the blue and he's sending Ro and Dan on a mission but wants to know if MC is down for V-day activities before or after they get back. Nabe says after but I think he's tryna buy some time lol

🖤Asmo is being his flirty self btw with MC, feeding them the chocolates Ro and Dan presented and being like "let's wait for them to get back *wink wink* and I'm like yeah there ain't gonna be no type of waitin' with him around 💀

🖤Also I like how we get to see how he handles his nobles. He handles them affectionately but while being firm and they just melt against him, naturally like I would expect that.

🖤And that's how everything ends! That's it.

Screenshot Faves

I just wanna mention Amon has been so clingy and snuggly the entire time and I'm loving this. I'm also glad we get to see more of of the Abyssos boys <3

Yes bby, please eat 😩

See I ain't the only one who was like okay are those pants or leggings? they look so tight lmaooo but they have pockets (so do leggings sometimes)

I feel this whole thing has been me showin' ya'll Amon 💀 but a nap date? Yes

This was wild lmao he had to sit up there for an hour dealing with this shit I would have just let the papers take me I can't

Oh MC...boy fucking howdy do I know that feeling...in fact I'm hoping they just keep fucking moving and leave me the hell alone 💀

Amon being cute again for the 1000th time

MC slapped the fuck outta him and he's just there wanting more.

Ronove says "here lemme help" 😭

Nabe and Amon fightin' for their life because they simply just do not wanna fuck around and find out lmao

oh so we're just out here poppin' people's bones back in place like it's nothing alrighty

Dan: Omfg let me be toxic to myself wow Ro: Just doin' my job, sweetie

Omfg we in Asmo's castle, tryna focus and shit and Nabe and Amon already tried clappin' cheeks and now we have two other devils glancing this way like they need to stop teasing the threesome shit and just do ittttttt /hj

LMAO this had me want to bully him a bit and be like "ha okay nerd, teacher's pet" which that other phrase he might actually be like "uh???"

This is so pretty, I don't think I'd want to eat it 😭😭

He'd escape prison just to see you. Remember that when lookin' for a ride or die devil to have by your side 😌🙌

I can hear him rn...lmao he's so angry he doesn't even like to be called cute lmaoooo

Me when his ass showed up outta nowhere lmao

Ooo what we doin' bae? All of the above? Great let me take my nap now since this is gonna be a marathon

He's so affectionate. This is a much softer side of him for once since he's debuted in WHB. Still very horny but at least we're like awh he's so gentle

Lmaoooooooo idk why this had me rollin' maybe it's because I'm like "wait did you not pick up on the obvious queues and piece it together after learning from Amon and Nabe what accepting chocolate means?" 💀lawd somebody help MC.

❤🖤❤🖤❤🖤❤🖤

And here we are at the end of the react! So this event...I personally liked it more toward the end. Sure we learned about Ronove and Dantalian here but it was mostly just Nabe telling the stories and us getting a short time to observe their behaviors in person. I guess I'm saying this event aside from the lore is pretty unremarkable.

But it also seems like it ties in with the upcoming card of Ro and Dan together! Maybe. But last time I checked S+ cards didn't have stories (other than Raphael's card...but we'll see)

I just know a group orgy happened when they returned /j

So yes, thank ya'll so much for sticking through this and enjoy my stufff. Again I know the first react that was audio was a bit b l a h but that's how I felt about that first part anyway. Not really worth spending my time writing about and adding like reaction gifs other what I showed in the video

I still have more things to catch up on! So I'm hoping to be done with all of it before the new card comes out. Until y'all, much love for the lovelies, your admin Jaze (✿◡‿◡)

#jazewhbreacts🖤#whb #what in hell is bad #whb avisos bois #whb abaddon #whb abaddon bois #react time #hopefully this shows up in the tags this time

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fairytales-and-folklore · 4 months ago

Text

Sarcasm Is My Only Defense

Teen Wolf » Sterek

Title: Sarcasm Is My Only Defense

Author: fairytalesandfolklore

Fandom: Teen Wolf (Masterlist)

Relationship: Derek Hale x Stiles Stilinski

AO3 Rating: Teen & Up (a complete collection of author's notes, inspiration credits, content warnings and tags can be found on AO3)

Summary: Stiles and Derek won't stop bicker-flirting as they try to come up with a plan to break into the abandoned bank and rescue Derek's betas from the alpha pack, culminating in a game of cat and mouse (or more accurately: little red and the big bad wolf) when Stiles smacks Derek across the ass with a pair of latex gloves, and Derek chases him out into the hallway and pins him against the wall.

"I don't need you getting hurt," Derek counters, the gruffness of his tone giving way to something softer and more vulnerable as he tears his eyes away from Stiles. "Aww, that's so sweet," Stiles smirks, all that fire fueling his determination to fight jumping ship to playful banter. "You actually care about me." "I never said that," Derek refutes, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Stiles with a petulant pout. "Didn't have to, Der-bear," Stiles teases with a saccharine lilt, lips curving into a positively impish shit-eating grin. "I read between the lines." "Well then, you're illiterate," Derek huffs, covering his splutter of indignation with a low, rumbling growl.

Read On AO3 | Read On Tumblr:

The three of them stand in the middle of Derek's loft, floor plans to the abandoned Beacon Hills First National Bank spread out across the table, marked all to hell in bright red ink. Stiles stands between Scott and Derek, red marker stuck between his teeth, hands splayed across the map to the underground vault as he takes them through his master plan. He'd stayed up all night researching every detail of the case, figuring out how the thieving crew had managed to break in, and how they could apply those same methods to their mission to rescue Derek's betas from the capture of the alpha pack.

"Okay, you see this? This is how they got in. It's a rooftop air conditioning vent. It leads down inside, into the wall of the vault, which is here," Stiles addresses the pair of them, in his element as he circles the room with a swirl of red marker.

"One of the robbers was lowered into this shaft. Now, that space is so small, it took him about twelve hours to drill into that wall, which is stone, by the way. Then, throughout the rest of the night, they siphoned the cash up to the guys back on the roof through that one little shaft in the wall. Boom!" he says, smacking the paper with a victorious whoop.

"Can we fit in there?" Scott asks, leaning forward and tracing over the tiny room with narrowed eyes.

"Yes we can, but very, very barely," Stiles confirms. "And they've also patched the wall since then, obviously, so we're going to need a drill of some kind. I'm thinking maybe a diamond bit—"

"Look, forget the drill," Derek cuts in, hunching his shoulders and glaring down at the map.

"Sorry?" Stiles huffs, barely managing to mask his irritation at having been interrupted yet again by Alpha Sourwolf, impatient asshole extraordinaire.

"If I go in first, how much space do I have?" Derek deadpans, pointedly ignoring the way Stiles's gaze rakes over him in narrowed disbelief.

"What do you think you're gonna do, Derek?" Stiles sighs, lips curving up at the corners in wry amusement. "You gonna punch through the wall?"

Derek rolls his eyes, leveling Stiles with a smirk sharp enough to match his own.

"Yes, Stiles. I'm going to punch through the wall," he replies with airy sarcasm, crossing his arms over his chest and flexing his biceps like they're an arguing point. Which, fair enough.

"Okay, big guy," Stiles humors him, smile growing wider. "Let's see it. Let's see that fist. Big old fist. Make it, come on."

"Get it out there. Don't be scared," he goads with a sarcastic lilt.

Derek fixes Stiles with a withering glare, but lifts his fist all the same.

"Big bad wolf. Yeah, look at that," Stiles teases around a triumphant smile, reaching forward and encircling Derek's wrist in the palm of his hand.

From the far corner of the room, perched at the bottom of the spiral staircase, Peter smirks and rolls his eyes at the pair of them, muttering something along the lines of Seriously? Is this really the best time to be flirting? under his breath, too quiet for Stiles to hear. Scott makes a muffled choking sound that he tries to pass off as a cough, but Stiles is too focused on Derek to take any notice.

Derek's face is twisted into a scowl that's maybe 90% directed at his insufferable uncle, 10% at the mouthy little shit standing in front of him, fingers curled around his wrist in a delicate grip. He doesn't flinch at the contact, doesn't twist out of Stiles's grip; he just stands there, waiting, letting Stiles touch him, letting Stiles maneuver him, feigning resigned impatience as Stiles plays out this little charade between them.

"Okay, you see this?" Stiles says with the air of someone explaining something very simple to someone very stupid. He lifts his other hand, palm flat, hovering a few inches from Derek's fist. "That's maybe three inches of room to gather enough force to punch through solid co— ahh!"

Without warning, Derek strikes out his fist, punching Stiles's open hand, hard enough to make it smart, but not hard enough to do any serious damage. Stiles goes stumbling backward into the table with a theatrical, high-pitched whine.

"Yup, he could do it!" Stiles calls out over his shoulder as he hobbles across the room, cradling his hand against his chest. Derek rolls his eyes, pressing his lips together to suppress a smug smile as he turns back to face Scott.

"I'll get through the wall," he assures them, lips twitching up at the corners as somewhere not too far behind him, Stiles grumbles in agreement. "Now, who's following me down?"

Derek's gaze lingers between Scott and Peter.

"Don't look at me," Peter rebuffs. "I'm not up to fighting speed yet. And honestly, with Isaac out of commission, you're not looking at very good odds for yourself."

"So I'm just supposed to let them die?" Derek glowers at his uncle.

"One of them is already dead," Peter unhelpfully supplies.

"We don't know that," Derek dismisses defensively.

"Do I have to remind you what we're up against here?" Peter quirks an eyebrow. "A pack of alphas. All of them, killers. And if that's not enough to scare your testicles back up into your stomach, try to remember that two of them combine bodies to form one giant alpha."

At that moment, Stiles comes traipsing back over to the table to stand next to Derek, absentmindedly massaging the palm of his hand.

"I'm sure Erica and Boyd were sweet kids," Peter sighs sardonically. "They're gonna be missed."

"Could someone kill him again, please?" Stiles asks around a weary sigh, quirking his eyebrows at Derek with a conspiratorial smile that Derek struggles not to return.

Peter has the nerve to look offended.

"Derek, seriously?" he scoffs. "Not worth the risk."

Derek just rolls his eyes, turning back toward Scott and Stiles.

"What about you?" he asks tentatively, hoping like hell that despite their rocky history, Scott's altruism will outweigh his pride. For once in his life, he'd rather not have to do this alone.

Stiles glances up at him, a look of pleasant surprise lighting up his eyes, and something inside Derek's chest seizes because no, absolutely no way is he letting Stiles anywhere near the likes of an alpha pack and a pair of out-of-control, bloodthirsty betas at the height of the full moon.

"Yeah, if you want me to come—" Stiles offers.

"Not you," Derek snaps, injecting a little more venom into the two-syllable response than he'd intended.

"You mean Scott," Stiles realizes, ducking his head and jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. "Got it."

A look of well-worn resignation settles on Stiles's face, and Derek fights the urge to backtrack, to reach out and reassure him that it's not a matter of not wanting him there, it's just—

Derek doesn't know if he'd be able to keep Stiles safe and he can't—

He just can't.

So he doesn't.

He keeps his gaze trained on Scott, resolutely ignoring the way his heart clenches inside his chest as he catches sight of the crestfallen look on Stiles's face.

Scott hesitates for a few seconds, mulling it all over, and then tilts his chin in a decisive nod.

"I don't know about Erica," he says solemnly. "But if Boyd is still alive, then we have to do something. We have to try."

A sigh of relief rushes out of Derek's lungs, tension uncoiling ever so slightly in the hard line of his shoulders. He offers Scott a tentative smile, a silent thank you, and turns back to stare down at the floor plans, burning them into his memory. But just when he thinks thank god that's settled, there's an indignant Stiles in his face.

"Okay, you know what? No. I'm coming," Stiles insists, hands coming down onto the map with a resounding smack.

Derek heaves an exhaustive sigh, turning slowly to face a very tight-lipped and narrow-eyed Stiles.

"No, you're not," he says gruffly. "What part of not you didn't you understand?"

"The part where I'm somehow not involved in the plan I literally came up with?" Stiles retorts around a huff of breathless, disbelieving laughter. "Who stayed up all last night researching this case? Who came up with the break-in plan? Who broke into his dad's office and got a copy of the floor plans? Who has repeatedly saved your stupid, werewolf ass from certain death? Oh yeah, that's right. It was me. Come on, Derek, admit it. You need me."

"I don't need you getting hurt," Derek counters, the gruffness of his tone giving way to something softer and more vulnerable as he tears his eyes away from Stiles and shifts his focus back down to the map, adamantly avoiding Stiles's determined gaze as he traces over the parts of the floor plans not covered up by Stiles's hands, but it's a lost cause. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches the beginnings of a wicked grin worthy of the Grinch working its way across Stiles's face.

"Aww, that's so sweet," Stiles smirks, all that fire fueling his determination to fight jumping ship to playful banter. "You actually care about me."

"I never said that," Derek refutes, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Stiles with a petulant pout.

"Didn't have to, Der-bear," Stiles teases with a saccharine lilt, lips curving into a positively impish shit-eating grin. "I read between the lines."

"Well then, you're illiterate," Derek huffs, covering his splutter of indignation with a low, rumbling growl, and pointedly ignoring the way his meddlesome uncle chuckles and says don't take the bait under his breath.

It goes on like this for a while, playful remarks volleyed back and forth like a sparring match as Derek struggles and fails to keep his attention on the floor plans laid out in front of him, details blurring around the edges until all he can focus on is the determined set of Stiles's brows, the twitch in his jaw as he fights against the urge to smile, the way his eyes light up whenever he thinks he's on the verge of chiseling yet another crack in Derek's stoic facade, escalating from a few casual jabs — Derek calls Stiles a skinny, defenseless human, Stiles scoffs and reminds him of the fact that he knows his way around a baseball bat, thank you very little, Derek argues that Stiles is already too busy fighting a losing battle with gravity and his own gangly limbs half the time to know how to handle himself in a werewolf turf war, Stiles accuses Derek of having the emotional range of a teaspoon — to full-on poking and prodding as Stiles tests the limits of just how much he can get away with, just how close he can get to Derek, before Derek breaks and retaliates.

Peter looks on with casual fascination hinging on boredom, while poor Scott fights an uphill battle, interjecting pleas of "if we could please just focus on the—" before giving up with an exasperated sigh, his fifth and final attempt drowned out by a bout of mischievous laughter as Stiles lunges forward and smacks Derek clean across the ass with a pair of latex gloves he'd stolen from Deaton's vet clinic the day before.

The effect is instantaneous.

All sound rushes out of the room. Derek freezes, shoulders going rigid. Slowly, almost menacingly, he turns toward Stiles, one threatening eyebrow raised.

There's a split-second moment where Stiles just stands there, frozen to the spot, Adam's apple bobbing nervously in his throat as the giddy amusement in his eyes widens to comical horror—

And then all hell breaks loose.

Derek makes a move like he's about to pounce, a predatory grin unfurling across his face as Stiles makes a mad dash to the front door, wrenches it open, and throws himself bodily into the corridor, something caught between a shriek and a burst of hysterical laughter echoing down the hallway.

Derek heaves a long-suffering sigh and turns toward Scott.

"I'll be right back," he says, and before Scott can even open his mouth to protest, Derek is already halfway across the loft, bounding out of the front door and chasing Stiles down the hallway in hot pursuit.

He catches up to him just as he's about to round the corner, grabbing him by the collar of his checkered jacket and thrusting him up against the wall, careful to place his hands just so, so that the back of Stiles's head lands in the cushion of Derek's palms instead of solid stone. In one swift, fluid motion, he cages Stiles in, capturing his flailing arms and pinning them above his head.

So, little red wants the big bad wolf?

Well then, that's exactly what he's going to get.

Derek goes in for the kill, settling into his well-worn role in this little game of theirs, shifting just enough to let the bright red glow of his alpha status bleed into his irises, canines gleaming in the moonlight spilling through the paneled windows overhead as he fixes Stiles with a roguish grin.

He expects Stiles to be the first one to waver, primal instinct choosing flight over fight; expects to find some measure of stunned disbelief when he looks into his eyes, maybe even a flicker of fear or reverence from the kind of intimidation he used to spark back when they first met — but the look Stiles gives him in return is nothing short of wolfish, lips curved upward in a beatific grin, patches of scarlet blossoming at his pulse points as his heart beats wildly beneath his chest, eyes lit up like a live wire, bright and warm and full of mirth as he levels Derek with a look of pure trust buried beneath a wave of fervent longing.

It's devastatingly beautiful, and Derek is ruined by it.

He falters, sucking in a gust of air like he's just had the wind knocked out of him.

"Oh come on, is that all you've got?" Stiles challenges with a teasing smirk, rolling his hips in a way that leaves absolutely no room for mistaking his intentions.

Derek swallows thickly, heart leaping into his throat.

"Yeah, that's right. What are you gonna do now, big guy? Big bad wolf, got me right where you want me, pinned against the wall with nowhere to run and no one around to hear us. It's just you and me, Sourwolf, so what are you gonna—"

With a frustrated growl, Derek surges forward, startling a delighted laugh out of Stiles, big goofy grin a hard line beneath Derek's lips as he melts into him, kissing him back just as fiercely, giving just as good he gets, like in everything else they do.

Derek's hands come down to gently cup Stiles's face, fingertips tracing the smattering of moles and freckles dotted along the hollows of his cheekbones, the curve of his jaw, the canvas of his throat, mapping them from memory. He tangles his fingers in Stiles's hair and gives an experimental tug, marveling at the moan it elicits, reveling in the stuttered gasp drawn from the back of Stiles's throat as Derek's teeth graze the delicate patch of skin beneath his ear, shuddering against him.

The moment Stiles's hands are free, they're all over him, seemingly unable to make up his mind, needing to touch him everywhere all at once; smoothing over the swell of his shoulders, skating across the well-muscled planes of his chest and torso with feather-light touches that send shivers down Derek's spine, curving around his hips and tugging him closer in a slow, deliberate grind.

They forget they're not alone, the world around them fading to a blur of shadow and soft light swathed in autumn hues, the gentle hum of street lamps and cars rushing past on the winding, windswept roads below them nothing more than background noise, until an exaggerated cough rings out from behind them, and they both turn abruptly, eyes wide like deer caught in headlights as Peter pokes his head out into the hallway with a bored, impatient expression on his face.

"If you two are quite finished frantically groping each other in a darkened corner like a couple of horny teenagers, I suggest we get back to planning your little ill-fated rescue mission," Peter scolds with a put-upon sigh, turning swiftly on his heel and slipping back into the loft before either of them can so much as blink.

Derek turns back toward Stiles, whose face has gone about fifty different shades of red, no doubt a perfect match for the burning heat prickling the tips of his ears. For a moment, all they can do is stand there, staring at one another, waiting to see which one of them breaks first, stunned expressions giving way to sheepish smiles until they're both bursting out laughing, shoulders shaking from the effort of it, breathless laughter settling into contented sighs as Derek dips his head forward to nuzzle into the space between Stiles's neck and shoulder, threading his fingers through the hand still curled around the collar of his shirt, and bringing it up to his lips.

A soft whimper makes Derek pull back, eyebrows knit in concern as he studies Stiles's expression with mounting worry.

"Is your hand okay?" he asks softly, his tone apologetic.

Stiles's heart skips a beat as Derek's fingers smooth over the palm of his hand in an attempt to soothe the ache, but there's hardly anything left for him to take. Not wanting to admit that the embarrassing sound he'd just made had nothing to do with their earlier roughhousing and everything to do with the dizzying rush of hope and affection that had surged through him when, after everything that had just happened between them, Derek had reached out for him and taken his hand — such a simple gesture, but the weight it holds could pull planets from their orbit — Stiles decides to change tactics, brushing it off with a sarcastic quip.

"You know," he says with a wry smile, eyes darting down to linger over their entwined hands. "For a skinny, defenseless human, I'm not as fragile as you might think."

It has the opposite effect.

"Stiles," Derek groans. "You know that's not what I meant. I know you can handle your own, it's just…I can't—"

Derek heaves a frustrated sigh, the words tumbling out of him, soft and low.

"I can't risk losing you, alright?"

Stiles can't help the smug smile that spreads across his face, eyes bright and hopeful. He feels like he's just downed a dozen shots of espresso.

"See?" he teases. "I knew you cared about me, you big softie."

"Shut up, Stiles," Derek scoffs and rolls his eyes, but there's an unmistakable layer of affection there.

Running on pure adrenaline, Stiles tips forward, gently nipping the shell of Derek's ear as he leans in close and whispers make me, before stealing another kiss, winking heartily, and bolting back into the loft with a manic burst of mischievous laughter.

Derek sighs and shakes his head, giving Stiles a two second head start before chasing after him.

#teen wolf #sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #teen wolf fanfiction #sterek fanfiction #sarcasm is my only defense #fairytalesandfolklore #fairytales-and-folklore #fairytalesandfolklore fanfiction #fairytalesandfolklore teen wolf #fairytalesandfolklore sterek

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yooglefics · 1 year ago

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Reveal — Part three: celebrating

Pairing: Yoongi x fem!reader ( camboy!yoongi x camgirl!reader ) Wordcount: 4,513 words Genre: 18+ / smut. mdni! remember to not use fics as your only source of sex ed. Summary: Your birthday celebration takes a turn when Jungkook forgets to uninvite a particular guest. Part 3 of Recording & Editing. Read it in that order for context. More warnings under read more.

Includes: 3k words of just smut. Mentions of posting / selling sex content. Dirty talk. Use of pet names ( baby, doll, good girl? ). Fingering ( f ), Oral sex ( f and m ). Frottage. Cum play? A bit of overstimulation? Possessive Yoongi because Reveal!Yoongi is just like that and I can't do anything about it. It's true, I tried. Author's note: Okay, I think this is actually the last one for this. A trilogy is fine, right? But also don't quote me on that because clearly I can't seem to know how to stop writing this pair and I'm watching Jungkook from a distance like 👀 but shhh Which speaking of, I was thinking and if you want to know more about the characters in this verse specifically, you can send an ask with “( reveal!verse )” at the beginning, maybe specify if you want it to be answered ic with “( @ reveal!theirname )” , and a question or whatever you want to say. Idk, thought it could be fun~ Also, I made a post with different options for tag lists in case anyone is interested. You know, for future projects and stuff. But don't feel preassure to request it, and thank you for following this mini series. Anyway. I hope you like this and if you do please remember to comment, reblog, ask, follow, and whatnot. And again, thank you for reading <3

“You know, you could reply instead of just staring at it,” Jungkook says, over your shoulder.

You're sitting in your living room, phone in your hand with the audio post on screen. There was no way of denying you were caught, you had already embarrassed yourself by acting like a schoolgirl when telling him about SugaD leaving a comment.

“But what if I say something dumb and he deletes it?”

“Why would he do that? He thinks you're cute,” he teases.

“The cutest,” you correct, silly smile on your face once again.

“See. You should shoot your shot and talk to him, he clearly is interested in you too,” he winks, finally walking around the couch to sit at your side, fresh bowl of popcorn on his lap.

“But it's all so crazy. I don't even know how he found my page, he only follows big creators.”

“Well, he asked me.”

“What?”

“He asked who you were,” his Bambi eyes blink at you, fear creeping on his soft expression, “I… don't kill me, please.” He moves away from you and that makes you turn to him, leg over the couch and phone forgotten.

“Jungkook? What did you do?” All the scenarios go through your mind, imagining the worst. He told him you kind of have a big old crush on him even if you have never seen his face? Did he tell him about the joke of suing him because he is so—

“And I was busy so I thought, you know, he works with music and edits his own content and it seemed like a good idea,” he is talking so fast and you realize you missed the beginning of it, but before you can ask him to start over he just burst it, “so he edited it.”

“He what?”

“The audio. Your audio. He edited it.”

“My… audio.” The audio you're sure included the start of his video.

Fuck.

Shit.

That's so much worse.

You should delete your account. Delete yourself. You want to move to another country and change your name.

“Fuck.”

“I'm sorry. I should have asked you, but I figured…” he trails off, coming closer again. “I just… I didn't think it was a big deal because… well, I didn't know he was gonna subscribe to you. He only subscribes to people he is friends with and I know he doesn't even watch their stuff.”

You can tell he is trying to make you feel better, and although you appreciate the effort, everything is confusing. Does that mean he wants to be friends? But he doesn't watch his friends's content so… no friends?

“Fuck.” You murmur again.

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asks softly, worrying the ring on his bottom lip.

“I… don't know.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No. Let's finish the movie.”

But you can concentrate for the rest of it, and know that you'd have to watch it again another time in case your friend brings up something important about the plot. But now, the only thing in your head is theories about what you're going to do about that one particular comment and, again, you consider just deleting the whole thing.

Jungkook invites you the next weekend to the restaurant, it's his free day but he tells you he can get you the birthday special even if it’s one day early and he can even sing for you. You tell him you are only going if he doesn't make a whole thing out of it. You'd wear the birthday hat and blow out the candles, but if he dares to bring more attention to you, you actually will kill him.

He believes you.

And so, here you are. Sitting in a booth in front of Jungkook and Hanna, your best friend. Big chocolate cake in front of you that they insisted on getting because “you can have it for dessert for the next week and think about how much we love you”, and also because you love chocolate.

“Sorry. Am I late?” A voice behind you interrupts the end of the birthday song, your smile falling because you could recognize it anywhere, and the fact that he is here makes you panic.

“Oh, shit… ah…” Jungkook stumbles over his words, even comes close to knocking his drink. “Sorry. Hi.” He greets the guy and throws an apologetic look your way. “This is my friend Yoongi.”

“Oh, hi. I'm Hanna and didn't know we were waiting for someone, but good thing we got a big cake, uh?” she jokes and looks at you. She does that whenever you're around people and you don't talk, her way of making you feel included.

But right now you want to disappear. Birthday crown and all. Maybe take the cake too.

“Hi,” you say timidly, eyes on Jungkook instead.

“I…” he starts, remorseful look on his face as he explains, “invited Yoongi last week, didn't want to third wheel with you two.”

“Oh, that's fun! Well, you want to sit there or should I move?” Hanna proposes and you're about to say she should come to your side even if that means Jungkook has to stand up too, but Sug— Yoongi speaks faster.

“I’ll sit here. Is that okay?”

You only nod, scooting to your right to make space for him. To not be so close he notices how nervous he makes you just with his presence.

He smells nice. Fresh and woody at the same time, and is only overwhelming because is him. Because a lot of things about him are a mystery still and you are about to unlock them all right now.

“Those are cute,” Hanna says.

“Ah, yes. I… these are for you,” a bouquet is presented on your line of vision. Is not big nor too much, the perfect size to be a nice present and it lets you admire the flowers’ beauty. “Happy birthday.”

“You didn't have to.”

“You don't like it?” If you weren't so focused on your own nerves you'd have noticed the ones on his voice.

“I do.” You quickly say. It's cute. The lavender mixed with two types of white flowers you don't recognize but you love the look of, mostly the one that looks like little stars. “Is really pretty. Thank you.”

“I'll bring you a drink,” Jungkook says, and looking at him you know he needs one himself. You could actually kill him after this.

“Wait, where is the restroom?” Asks Hanna and your eyes lift from your present so fast your neck almost hurts, but she is quickly disappearing in the direction Jungkook points her to.

And that's what you get for keeping everything a secret from your best friend. Karma as its finest.

“Pff,” you breathe, sinking into your seat.

“I can go if you want me to,” Yoongi says softly at your side.

“What? No, no is—” you try to explain is not him. Nothing is wrong actually. Everything is perfect and you're totally not freaking out.

“You haven't looked my way,” does he sounds hurt? “Is alright. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just thought… I don't know. JK invited me weeks ago and then I found out who you were,” you cringe at that, knowing he most likely means when he listened to your audio. “I figured I'd take the chance and meet you.”

“Why? I mean. Don't you feel uncomfortable because of the…” finishing your sentence feels unnecessary and saying it at loud is embarrassing.

“The fact that you watch my videos?”

“I swear I only watched like three and I don't do that with all of them is just— Are you laughing?” Finally you turn to him, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Sorry, sorry. But is that supposed to make me feel better?”

You don't answer.

“Of course I don't mind.” He leans in, "If you sound that cute, I'll let you watch all of them for free.”

Breath caughts on your throat, looking at him with big round eyes. His face is right there and you try to take it all in. Clean shaved, jawline not too harsh and with soft features, crested moon shaped brown eyes, pink lips, and the way they curve up when he catches you staring at them.

“I don't want to go, but if you want me to, I'll do it.” he backs out, and somehow you can tell he is genuine.

“Stay.”

After dinner and some chatting, Jungkook offers to drive Hanna home and Yoongi takes you to his place. It’s fancy, looks like taken out of a magazine and you tell him exactly that. He asks you if you want to judge his room too and with a laugh you tell him yes, because honestly, you're curious now.

You tell him it doesn't look too cozy and suggest investing in a nice blanket, he raises an eyebrow at you and finally you confess you're an interior designer by day. He tells you he is a music producer. And then you talk about how and why each of you decided to join OF and what kind of things you have discovered you like during that journey.

“Interesting,” he says when you confess you started following him because of a hand picture you saw somewhere else. He has been playing with your fingers while you lay on his bed, is relaxing and you don’t mind at all. “You said you were going to sue me, should I even be this close?”

“Oh my—” you pull away, covering your face. And he laughs. “Go away.”

“No, c'mon. It's cute.” He tries to turn your body to its side, but you don't give in. “Look at me, please.”

“No. I can't.”

“Why?”

“Because no.”

He laughs again, hand on your hip, “Baby, please?” Head shake is your answer, “I'm sorry. Should I confess something too?”

“Yes.”

“Let's see,” he props himself on his elbow, looking at you even if you are still covered. “I knew about you before the audio.”

“You did?”

“Well, Jungkook talks about you all the time and I was curious. I think it was the third time you guys collabed that I saw a picture and he mentioned your name on his page.”

“Which picture?” You ask, uncovering half your face to look at him, he smiles.

“The one with the books. You were holding one in front of you.”

You remember that. Like all your pictures with Jungkook, it was suggestive more than anything and in that one the pose made it look like you were touching yourself.

“And now I know what you sound like doing that,” he teases, “wonder if I'd be lucky enough to see it someday.”

“You've to stay subscribed and see,” is your turn to have fun.

“Should I make another instruction video for you?” or maybe not. And before you cover yourself again, he holds your wrist, bracelet digging a little on your skin but not enough to actually hurt. “Don't. Let me see you.”

“Yoongi…”

“Fuck. Don't say my name like that,” is only half joking, but he knows you can tell he wants you just as much. “Can I kiss you?”

You nod and his lips touch yours in a millisecond. They are soft, but his movements are quick, and soon his tongue is asking for permission to enter your mouth. With a moan, you granted happily and hungry to taste him.

His hand goes back to your waist, only resting before squishing it gently. Your own hand traveling to his nape and bringing him closer, your chests touching.

In need of air you break the kiss, and instead of stopping, his mouth keeps working down your jaw and neck, “ohh…” you try to breathe, throwing your head back just enough to give him space. It feels so good you don't want to stop.

And he doesn't. He continues until he reaches the fabric of your dress, covering your chest. He imagines your little gold collar he saw in some pictures. He thinks about buying you one on silver to match his own jewelry or buying a chain for himself the color of yours. Anything would do, he just wants you to be his and for people to know.

“W-wait,” your voice brings him back, and he stops immediately, “don't leave marks. At least not visible.”

“Okay, I can get creative.” A wink seals his promise and his hand moves to the buttons in the front of your dress, his lips following soon behind to attach themselves to the exposed skin. To your breast. He licks and kisses and when he reaches your nipple he flicks his tongue a few times.

That gets a good reaction from you, but he still asks “You like that?” because it does good to his ego and the mid-erection on his pants.

You nod between whimpers and can feel his laugh through his chest resting on your stomach, “is that enough?” You look at him, the lust on his eyes and his stupid smirk on his lips when he frees your abused skin from his mouth, leaving a bruise on your breast. “Is my tongue enough to make you cum, doll?”

And your pussy answers for herself. Legs impossibly close in search of some friction and, of course, Yoongi noticed.

“You need something?”

“P-please…”

“Tell me. I'll give you anything, baby.” His voice is raspy like on the videos you watch alone at night. Except is not through a screen and is actually directed to you. Is everything you wanted while touching yourself and for a second you wonder if it's really happening.

Running your hand through his hair you look at him, now lower on the bed and playing with the bottom of your dress while he waits for a sign between your folded legs, cheek against your thigh, letting you catch your breath.

“Yoongi?”

“Hmm?” his hand stops on your leg, heavy and warm.

“Touch me, please.”

And you don't have to tell him twice. His hands roam your body, while he leaves kisses here and there. Too desperate to finish unbuttoning it, the bottom of your dress gets pooled at your waist, revealing the lilac lingerie he saw a picture of the other day.

“So pretty,” he whispers, fingertips traising the embroidered details. It makes you shiver. “Fuck, I can see how wet you are.” His movements travel south to the patch over your entrance, and you respond just as he expects, moaning.

And before you can get used to that, his tongue is on you, flat over the wet and thin fabric. “Can't wait to taste you properly,” sounds a lot like a promise.

Biting your lip, you contemplate asking him to hurry, to give you anything. To get rid of all of your clothes yourself.

But he knows exactly how to drive you crazy.

Moving your panties to the side with the help of his left hand, the fingers on his right one make an appearance again. Collecting your wetness and using it to rub over your pussy, only applying little pressure at first. Moans echo throughout his room once again, louder and this time in the company of a couple groans from him when he finally pushes in.

“O-oh… oh my,”

“That's it. Let me hear your pretty sounds,” he encourages, letting you get used to the sensation before adding another one, his eyes on you the whole time. In the way you lick your lips before moaning, the way your hips move towards his hand asking to be fucked, the way your pussy wraps around his fingers.

“...more.” Is barely a whisper but he hears it, smiling at you.

“Want more? Is not enough?”

“Need you, please”

And how can he say no to you when you look at him that way. Like he is the only one that can give you what you need, how you want.

His head disappears between your legs, mouth watering at the thought. He can't even deny he was waiting for you to ask him to eat you out, he would do it in a second, whenever you want, because “oh, god, you taste so sweet.”

Feeling your legs closing he holds them back, pushing them against your torso with his free hand and squishing your soft skin just as tight as you are doing to his fingers. Thinking about how much force he would need to apply to leave a mark.

“F-fu… fuck. It, it feels so good, please.”

He is proud, lips curving lightly but without wanting to pull away to smile properly. His tongue laps at your entrance alongside his fingers, moving faster and faster, against that spot that makes your body tremble and makes the knot at the bottom of your abdomen want to scream.

“Please, please, please…”

And he knows what that means. Knows you're close and just need a little push, and he gives it to you in the form of a “Cum for me, baby.”

And you do. Head back and pussy tight around him, legs closing and hand pushing him away when his tongue keeps working, overstimulating and catching all that you give him.

“Oh… my…” you breath. Legs still shaking but feet finally on the mattress again.

He is standing at the end of his bed, one hand pushing his long hair back and the other unbuckling his belt, eyes on you while he takes you in. “Was that good?” He asks, you nod and he smiles matching yours. “Great. You deserve it.”

“You want some help with that?”

“What do you want?” Yoongi throws back, “You’re the birthday girl, after all.”

Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, thoughts filled with ideas of the things you had wished to be able to do before, you watch him get rid of his jeans and boxers, his dick on full view for you. Only you. “Can I suck you off?”

Obviously, he can't say no, so he nods and you are quick to stand up, legs still feeling a bit weak after your orgasm, but it isn't a problem because as quick as your dress falls completely to the floor, you're kneeling in front of him, between his legs and hands on his tights.

You watch him stroke himself a couple times through gritted teeth, his other hand coming to cup your cheek as you get closer to his length. Saying you had been waiting for this wouldn't be an exaggeration, and without breaking eye contact you stick your tongue out, touching the blush tip slowly.

He sighed, as if he was, too, relieved at the contact. “So pretty.”

You push his hand away, taking his hardened length into your hand, only realizing then how big he actually is.

Tapping his dick on your tongue gets you a groan from him and you hum as you wrap your lips around the head, circling your tongue around it inside your mouth before letting go. He smiles at you, his chest moving fast as his breathing increases and his eyes are filled with lust. Your hand moves up and down when your mouth is not working, still wanting him to feel good.

Preparing yourself, you get closer again, taking more in and closing your eyes, adjusting to the girth.

“Fuck,” he moans, thumb softly stroking your face as his hand moves to the back of your neck when you imitate the previous movements of your hand, going up and down, taking more and more into your mouth. “Y-yeah, just like that.”

The encouragement helps the feeling on your lower abdomen to build in again, pussy squeezing around nothing and moaning around his dick, making Yoongi clench his jaw, bucking his hip up, and letting his grip go only at the last second. He wants to fuck your mouth so bad. Only watching your lips around him is driving him crazy and you feel oh, so warm.

“So pretty, doll,” he compliments as you try to keep your eyes on him as much as possible, only closing them when he hits the back of your throat.

You come up, catching your breath as you let your hand do some more work. Collecting your spit and rubbing your thumb on his sensitive tip. He reacts just as you expect, groans and head tilted back slightly, with his hands on either side gripping the black sheets. And that gives you an idea.

“Can you…” eyes are on you immediately, but you wish they weren't because that makes you shy and is even more difficult to ask.

“Tell me, baby.” He pleads, “I'll give you anything, just ask.”

But is easier to show than tell, and your fingers grab around one of his wrists, positioning his hand on the back of your head. “Just… hold it.”

“Fuck.” He has to inhale quickly before nodding, are you reading his mind? “tap my thigh if it gets too much, okay?”

A nod of your own, licking your lips before taking his dick in your mouth once again, the simple weight of his hand being enough to encourage you to take more in and staying there a bit longer before bobbing your head.

Yoongi alternates between letting you follow your own peace and holding you down for a few more seconds every once in a while, finally letting himself slam his hips more harshly against your mouth and the back of your throat. His moans fill the air as he pushes into you. “feels amazing… you take my cock so well.” You hum, making his hips fuck into you at the vibration, increasing the tension on his lower abdomen. “Such a good girl.”

“I could fuck your pretty mouth all night,” he goes on, looking down at you and all the mess you've created between his legs. “Oh f-fuck. What a beautiful sight.” opening your eyes makes the view even better, and he holds your head down, making you gag around his dick, “ah… ah…” he lets go, not wanting to come just yet.

And it might be the first time you see him and his beautiful dick in person, but SugaD’s last video is fresh on your mind, —how could it not after the anxiety of him finding out— so you remember he likes to hold back. And is hot. But he is right, is your birthday celebration and you don't want to play by his rules.

“Are you close?” the hoarseness in your voice is surprising for a second, but you don't have time to think about how it's most likely going to hurt tomorrow because he is fixing your hair behind your ears with a devious smile on his beautiful face.

“Want me to come in your pretty mouth?”

“No.” He raises an eyebrow at the quickness of your answer. “I have an idea.”

Standing up, your knees thank you, only realizing then you'll also have to deal with that later, being so in your head while giving head, the weight of having him in your mouth a priority, that you didn't even care until then.

You're back laying on his bed, pulling Yoongi to be in front of you, between your legs. “Is going to be embarrassingly fast if you ask me to fuck you right now.”

And for a second you consider it. Because he is not saying no and because he looks so good like this, hands reaching down to hold your waist and bring you closer to him down the bed. But you shake your head no. “You ruined my plans today,” feeling the need to justify your pervy desires you explain, “I was supposed to take pics today for my birthday post, so now you have to help.”

“You want me to take pictures of you?” also not saying no, just clarifying, and you can see in the lust of his gaze he likes the idea.

“I want you to do something first,” shyness invades again but looking down at his hardened length is enough to deliver the message, “and then take a picture. If you want.”

Yoongi is close to you again, bending down to kiss you with a “fuck yes, I want to.” His dick is resting over your pelvis, and you can't help the involuntary thrust your own body does. It feels heavy, and warm, and just so perfect. And when he thrust his hips, frotting against yours, you can't take it.

“Y-yoongi,” and he does it again and again, and soon you're cumming by just the feeling and the thought of how would it be to be actually fucked by him, how much would he reach inside you, making you feel so full and “Ohhh… oh”

He holds you and kisses down your neck as you come down your high a second time, before kneeling once more at the end of the bed. “You look so fucking precious, baby,” he notes, hand wrapping around his dick once more.

“You look great too,” you offer, biting your lip before letting honesty take over shyness, “I finally get to see you.”

“You been thinking about it?” He knows exactly what you mean. The reason he cuts it off his videos isn't just for privacy, is to give people something to wish for, to yearn.

You nod.

“Baby wants to see me cum?” Another nod, lost for words, but he is not having it. “Tell me.”

“Yoongi…”

“C'mon, baby. Tell me,” he taps his dick over your clothed pussy. Once, twice. Making your body jump at each touch. He teases the tip over your over-sensitive area and then taps again. Honestly, is hard to tell if he is teasing you or himself, but either works.

“I-I want to see you, please.”

His wrist moves in a faster rhythm, his other hand resting on your leg because he just needs to touch you. “Yeah? I'm going to cum,” he pants, “and you're going to show people how gorgeous you look covered on it.”

You really don't know how much he loves the idea of that, how much he wants to show the world you let him ruin you, how you whisper “please, please,” as he finishes, head thrown back and your name escaping his lips on a moan, shooting white over your naked stomach.

But you can imagine, his victory smile gives him away. And the way he keeps complimenting you all the while grabbing his phone and snapping picture after picture just confirms it.

But you can judge Yoongi too harshly, it does something to you as well. It helps your confidence and a proud smile matches his as he tells you people are going to hate him if you really post this on your page. And that newfound confidence tells you is going to be the first time you click upload without second-guessing yourself.

[ afterhours(y/n): Thank you for the birthday wishes! I indeed got a nice present, don't you think? [ picture ] ]

[ SugaD: Unbelievable 😻 Can we do something for my birthday too? ]

♡ Tag list: @m00njinnie , @sexytholland , @seoullove96 , @thelilbutifulthings , @disneyprincessshuri , @yoongibaybee ,

Thank you so much guys for your interest and support on this little series, I appreciate you 🥺💙

➪ Part one. | ➪ Part two | ➪ Updates for this verse | ➪ Ko-fi

➪ Main masterlist. | ➪ Updates in general | ➪ Request & chats ♡

#( writing. )#( reveal )#( reveal: celebrating )#min yoongi x reader #min yoongi smut #min yoongi fanfic #min yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi fic #yoongi #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #yoongi x f!reader #yooglefics

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lunamadhatter99 · 2 years ago

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All for the cameras

chapter 2

Finnick Odair x fem!reader

Here we go, part 2! Thank you, thank you, thank you all for the support with the first chapter!! I'm so glad that everyone liked it.

I hope you're going to like this second chapter too🤞 again if you're new and want to be tagged in the next chapter, comment here❤️❤️❤️

Chapter summary: It's time for the big event. And better keep our eyes open.

Chapter warning: none, except the usual mention of prostitution and usual Hunger Games stuff. Nothing too wild. We still won't see Finnick in this chapter, but I promise it's going to be worth it❤️

Tag list

@guacam011y

@justtrying2getby

@idontevenknow1359

@alexandra-001

@bambikitten

@maggiecc

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@haneybunny

@1-800-styles

@sisiking99

"Snow is watching us." Haymitch says, we're almost at the Capitol for the final interview and the big celebration.

"Of course, he is. He needs to watch everything. Especially the inconveniences," I scoff.

"Yeah. And if he wants you to pacify the districts, I promise you, he's not happy." Haymitch continues, "instead of being in love, you two sounds like you're reading from a drilling manual."

"You try reading that stuff that Effie writes us," Peeta mutters.

"Snow doesn't care." I tell him. "That's not how you want to convince him."

"I'm open to suggestions," he says back, tired.

"We could get married," Katniss quietly suggests, not looking up at anyone.

"That's not helping," Haymitch comments.

"I'm serious. If, like you said we're on this train forever, it's gonna happen eventually. Why not now?"

"It does make a statement. I'll give you that." Haymitch then looks at Peeta who agrees, but quickly stands up and leave. Katniss looks at me.

"It's something we can try, you're right... they would want it to happen eventually." I shrug.

"It's settle, then." Haymitch drinks to that and Katniss looks at me with hope.

---------------

"Are you sure you don't want to come to the party?" I ask Haymitch before I have to leave for Snow's residence. "Lots of free alcohol."

"I don't need free alcohol." He chuckles amused, "I'm a victor. I already got that."

"Don't you want to save a damsel in distress?" I try again.

"Our president seems very well guarded on his own," Haymitch jokes, "he's safe."

I genuinely laugh at that shaking my head.

"See? I need that! Please?" I try to beg just one more time.

"Don't send me that look, Princess." He turns his head away ready to walk away.

"Fine, fine... I tried." I raise my hands up in surrender. "Wish me luck, at least. "

"Maybe they'll leave you alone tonight, too interested in the two lovers," he sadly smiles at me, hoping, rather than believing, his own words to be true.

"Yeah, maybe," I take a deep breath, "well... have a goodnight, Haymitch."

"You too, princess." He winks, "and eyes open."

------------

The party is just as exaggerated as ever. Lots of people, lots of food and drinks and lots of lights.

I make my way through the crowd, towards the tables full of food and drinks, hoping to find something to make this evening more tolerable. I take a glass and take a sip, breathing deeply.

Some people come to talk to me, about the victors, thankfully.

"Two victors, exciting, uh?" One of the them says cheerfully.

"Very," I say with my usual forced smile.

"You must be proud, two victors on your turn on 12," a woman with very voluminous hair nudges me, "you were the talk of the town these past few days, you know?"

"Me?" I ask, surprised by that, usually everyone forgets about me during the victory tour.

"Oh yes, well beside the lovebirds." A green haired man chimes in.

"Why?" I start to get anxious, the necklaces feel a lot tighter than before.

"I heard a rumour... someone wants to put a ring on your finger," she whisper-exclaims with a wink.

"W-what?... I don't think... uh..." I stutter.

"C'mon, everyone knows you're Cal Kingslay's favourite." She teases, with a devilish smirk, "and it's rumored that he wants you all to himself."

"Isn't that wonderful?" The man cheers. "We could probably get two well awaited weddings this year!"

"I hope I didn't ruin the surprise." The woman adds, with, what I'm sure is, a fake apologetic smile.

"Of course not. Now would you excuse me, gotta wait for my Victors." I say turning around to walk as far as possible from them, I finish my drink in one go and soon take another glass. Thankfully it's announced the arrival of Katniss and Peeta.

I spot them walking through the crowd following Effie and heading to Flavius and Octavia so I quickly join them.

As they see me arrive they immediately smile, relieved.

"There you are," I say holding my hands out for them to hold, "I've missed you,"

All for the cameras.

"It's only been 30 minutes," Peeta plays along.

"And you can stay that long away from me?" I fake offence, "You wound me,"

Everyone around us laugh so I just decide to stick with them as long as I can.

Helping them play along is much easier than expected, especially with Peeta, Katniss is still a little uncertain, but I get her, it got me years and years to get used to the cameras.

After I unfortunately finish my fourth glass, I need another one, in order to survive this evening.

"Excuse me a second," I whisper at them and head to the other side of the room where I can get another glass of Whiskey.

I turn around to go back to Katniss and Peeta when I'm met with a firm chest.

Unfortunately I already know who this might be.

"Found you" Cal teases.

I look up at him, the blue in his hair is even stronger than I remembered, and a little longer too, he got bigger, more muscles for sure, eyes just as devilish.

"That you did," I try to mask my fear with a chuckle.

"I've missed you, you know, been looking everywhere for you since I got here," he says with a sweet tone, that only makes my skin crawl. He grabs my hand to play with my fingers.

"I've been here the whole time, chatting with the Victors you know," I take my hand back, "I should get back to them, exc-"

"They got you all this time," he stops me from walking away, "it's not the same without you."

"I..." I want to say something, but nothing comes out.

"I mean, it's fun and all with Finnick, but with you..." he lets out a big dreamy sigh, "with you it's so much better"

He says the last part leaning in, close enough to suffocate me.

"Excuse me?"

We both turn and see Peeta standing there.

"Peeta!" I say, both surprised and relieved, "Peeta, uh.. this is Cal Kingslay, his father was once the general himself"

"Nice to meet you, sir," Peeta extends his hand and Cal grabs it and shakes it.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr Mellark," Cal greets him, he's tense though, he doesn't like being interrupted.

"Uh... Peeta, where's Katniss?" I ask to change the subject.

"She's dancing with the new Head Gamemaker," he explains simply, "but I still wanted to dance so I thought to ask you, if you're free."

"Oh, but of course," I say holding out my hand for him.

"But..." Cal starts.

"Oh, c'mon, he's our new victor, we can't say no to him, now can we?"

"Of course not," Cal says with a very evident forced smile.

That being said, me and Peeta go dance with the other people, I even spot Katniss with said New head Gamemaker.

"Thank you," I breathlessly say as we start dancing.

"You're welcome, you looked like you needed saving," he says with his kind smile, "who is he?"

"A fan" I simply say, "a very... uh... insisting one"

"I see," he nods.

"Thanks again, really."

"Don't worry about it." He laugh, "I mean, you helped saving me in that arena, this is nothing."

It's actually a lot more than he thinks.

I smile at him, grateful.

I then feel a slight tap on my shoulder, I turn around seeing Katnis and the Gamemaker.

"Mind changing partners?" He asks politely.

"Sure."

Me and Katniss exchange spots.

"It's an honour," he says once we're dancing.

"That honour would be the same if I knew your name sir," I tease.

"Oh, my bad, I apologise." He chuckles, amused, "I'm Plutarch Heavensbee,"

"Now the honour is mine," I say, "new head Gamemaker... when did they choose you?"

"Oh, I volunteer," he simply explains.

"Oh..." I let out a surprised laugh, "I see Katniss is already dictating fashion."

"Yeah, she's an inspiration, don't you think?" He says it almost as a challenge.

"I do," I answer seriously. "There must be more then... why volunteer?"

"I think it's time for the game to mean something," he shrugs and smiles.

"Mean something?" I wonder, "that's pretentious,"

"A little," he chuckles again, "so I'd keep those eyes open, if I were you."

My eyes snap back at his face, he's smiling, proud of himself.

Why? Does he know something? Does Haymitch know something?

Before I get the chance to ask him anything, the Capitol anthem starts and the crowd cheers.

"I'm sure we'll meet again," he says before following the rest of the people out for President Snow's speech.

I'm a little stunned, it's Effie's call that snaps me out of it. I quickly join her, Katniss and Peeta out.

We all gather in front of the residence, waiting for the President Snow to come out. I turn around looking for Cal, only to make sure he doesn't sneak up on me again. I see him looking around, for me probably, so I quickly turn around getting closer to Katniss.

At last the President comes out on his balcony.

"Tonight, on this, the last day of their tour, I want to welcome our two Victors." He starts with his usual charming persona, two young people who embody our idealsof strength and valor. And I, personally, want to congratulate them on the announcement of their engagement."

Everyone cheers. Peeta and Katniss smile at the crowd around them.

"Your love has inspired us. And I know it will go on inspiring us every day for as long as you may live." He holds up his glass and the fireworks start and I turn around to look at them like everyone.

I sense Katniss holding my hand and turning around. I want to look at Snow too, but the way she starts to squeeze my hand tells me all I need to know...

He doesn't believe them.

It didn't work.

---------------

I'm sitting in an armchair staring at nothing in particular. My mind can't help but think about whatever we can do to make their story more believable, but nothing, absolutely nothing comes up.

The riots in the districts surely won't make him happy, which means it will be worse for everyone else.

Fuck.

My head snaps back as I hear footsteps coming, I let out a sigh when I notice it's just Katniss.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," she apologises.

"Don't worry about it," I wave her off, "can't sleep either?"

She shakes her head, I motion for her to sit with me.

"Do you think we ever had any chance?" She then asks me.

"I guess, the positive side of me really hoped... but the realistic side knew." I sigh, looking down at my own hands, "I'm afraid it was too late from the beginning. And I don't mean from what happen in 11... I mean from the moment you took out the berries, that made the districts feel something, these riots all over the place won't be pacify by a love story. Snow knows that."

"He asked me to convince him," she explains, "to convince him ours is true love."

"He never believed you." I directly say, "not for a second."

"Why ask me that then?"

"Control." I simply answer looking up at her with a serious expression. "Show you he has control."

"How did you end up living like this?" She asks, she seems genuinely interested, but I'm not ready to share that part of my life with her just yet.

I smile at her, a smile that doesn't reach my eye.

"Aw... Katniss, I thought you knew the difference between living" I turn serious again, looking her dead in the eyes," and surviving."

With that I stand up, grab a bottle of what I think is rum, and head to my room.

-----------

I stand by the doors waiting for Peeta, Katniss and Haymitch to get off the train. The thought of going back to normal is dreadful enough, going back alone is even worse, I don't want to think about it.

"Home sweet home," Haymitch declares as he nears.

"Don't be so eager to leave me," I joke, holding my hand out for him to shake, he takes and kiss the back of it.

"You know, it pains me deeply," he teases back and I chuckle.

"Take care of them, will you?" I ask quietly.

"You take care of yourself, will you?" He lets go of my hand and leans down to whisper into my ear, "and eyes open" He smiles one more time before getting of the train.

"You'll have to explain that to me properly one of these days," I tell him as I watch him go.

"Isn't his whole character just... cryptic?" I turn around seeing Peeta and Katniss.

"Or just constantly drunk." Katniss chimes in.

"He's cryptically drunk all the time," I smile, "so... you got everything?"

"Yeah, we're ready to get home." Peeta smile back at me.

"Good... Good." I let out a deep sigh, "it's been a pleasure assisting you two. I guess I'll see you at the next Hunger Games, mentors."

"Thank you for everything, Y/n." Peeta pulls me in for a quick hug before walking away.

"Bye," I wave then turn to Katniss, "you okay?"

"Yeah... I think so." She forces a small smile.

"I wish I could do more," I tell her honestly.

"Thanks,"

"Say hi to your family for me, alright?" I smile again and she nods.

Once Katniss is out of sight a Peacekeeper comes up to me.

"Yes?" I ask.

"Your presence has been requested back in the Capitol. We'll be leaving soon." He tells me.

"May I know who requested it?" I ask, tired. I already imagine who-

"President Snow."

Uh?

"Did he say why?"

The peacekeeper doesn't answer and walks away. I stand here dumbfounded, wondering what he might want from me.

Is it because of Katniss and Peeta?

Is it because of the riots in the districts?

Is it because of the Quartel Quell? Does he wants me to be more participant or?

Then a terrifying thought comes to mind...

------------

"You asked for me, sir?" I stand in front of his desk as he write something down.

"It came to my attention a rumour's veen going around regarding you, miss L/n." He starts, still not looking directly at me, "a merry one."

"Sir?" I ask, my throat instantly dry.

"Cal Kingslay apparently wants to marry you," he finally puts down the pen and looks at me with, what might seem, a genuinely happy expression, "That's a wonderful news."

"Is it?" I don't know what he wants from me.

"Oh yes, the people can't help but be thrilled about. the idea. I, myself, think it's great news. After the contributions the Kingslays gave to the games in these last years, it will show, not only to the Capitol, but the districts as well, that you are an active part of this system." He explains, the hint of a challenge in his eyes. Challenge me to say no, to refuse.

I really want to, I want to scream at him and just run away. Being sold to all rich people in the Capitol is not the life I want, but being tied to him... permanently, it's more terrifying.

But I have no choice.

All I can do is swallow my pride and take a deep shaky breath.

"I... how... how will it happen, sir?" I ask.

"You two will get engaged once I announce the Third Quarter Quell and get properly married after the crowing of the Victor. He will ask, you will happily say yes." He explains, satisfied with my compliance, then he goes back at the papers in front of him, "That's all."

I don't need him to tell me twice, I immediately walk out of his office, ready to go home and just let everything out.

"Oh, before you go," Snow's voice freezes me on the spot, "Plutarch Heavensbee asked for your company, you will be escorted to his house immediately." He informs me.

I shakily nod and walk out of his office where two guards make way.

-----------

"Do you want some tea?" Plutarch motion for me to sit at a big wooden table, "perhaps something stronger?"

I nervously nod as I sit.

He walks away, I hear him talking to someone before walking back into the room I'm in with two drinks in hand. He offers one to me and sits by the opposite side of the table.

"I told the guards to come back in an hour, we should have enough time" he smiles and I nod again, still not sure of what to expect.

Suddenly the lights go off and the room falls into deep darkness. I can still make out his face due to the lights coming from outside.

"What...?" I ask.

"You can never feel safer," he tells me.

"What's going on, Mr Heavensbee?" I ask, anxiety growing at every passing second.

"Tell me, miss L/n," he starts, voice a little quieter than before, "what do you know about district 13?"

#the hunger games fic #the hunger games x reader #hunger games fic #the hunger games imagine #the hunger games #finnick odair x reader #finnick odair imagine #finnick odair #finnick imagine #finnick x reader #finnick odair x y/n

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savventeen · 2 years ago

Text

you say the stupidest (sweetest) things

pairing: seungkwan x gn!reader rating: 16+ (for swearing) wc: 4.5k prompt: seungkwan + "things you said at 1am" summary: you say stupid shit on the best of days, so when seungkwan comes over when you're having a bad bout of insomnia, the last thing he expects to hear from you is an accidental love confession warnings: insomnia, mental health issues, dissociation mention tags: fluff, friends to lovers, first kiss, reader is a little unhinged but who isn't tbh, they're also highkey allergic to genuine expressions of love/affection but they're working on it, banter, stimming, wrestling like children to try and work through emotions, reader is some flavor of lgbt+ (they make an "i've never done anything straight in my life" joke), reader's pov is dramatic bc they're dramatic oops a/n: this is for @dokyeomin as a part of my emergency commissions (check out the post here) and this was only supposed to be 1k but it 100% got away from me... i hope you still enjoy the fluff and all of the attached nonsense <3

From: Y/n 🔪 [11:47pm]

yo kwannie if i impulsively decide to go to the 24h convenience store how harshly do u think they'll jusdge me for buying every flavor of gummy candy available *judge i wanna see if i can melt them down into one Ultimate Gummy u know for Science

Seungkwan pauses brushing his teeth and stares down at your messages.

To be fair, it's probably not the strangest thing you've ever texted him. He's known you since your second year of college, after all, so he has about half a decade of experience with all of your various y/n-isms under his belt now.

Which is how he knows to trust his gut when it tells him that this probably isn't your usual brand of nonsense.

He spits the toothpaste into the sink and dials your number. You answer on the second ring.

“Before you say anything,” you start, “I was only half-serious about the gummies thing. Like, it's a fun idea, you know? In theory. But in actuality? I do not want to deal with the mess that it would create. Or the smells. Well, the smells might actually be pretty good depending on—“

“Uh-huh,” he interrupts dryly. “Y/n, when's the last time you slept?”

The beat of silence that follows is enough to confirm his suspicions, and the hesitant “Um” that follows is just the icing on the cake, really.

He sighs. “The fact that you have to think about it says enough.”

“I don’t need to think about it,” you argue petulantly. “I just… don’t wanna tell you.”

“Y/n...” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Look, I know, I'm sorry.” And you do sound a little bit sorry, at least. “I'm just. Having an episode. Don't worry about it.”

His shoulders droop as the words sink in. “Episodes” are what you've taken to calling your intermittent bouts of serious insomnia.

Generally speaking, you sleep about as well as the average twenty-something with a caffeine addiction. But every few months or so, it's like your brain completely forgets how to shut off and you end up staying awake for 40+ hours straight.

“Well,” he says, putting his toothbrush away and going back to his bedroom. “You know that ship has sailed, right? You know I'm gonna worry about it.”

Your deep sigh crackles over the line. “Yeah, I know.”

“So. Where're we at this time?”

He mentally braces himself. The two of you have done this enough times now that he knows that you know there's no point in trying to lie or beat around the bush.

“Uhhhhhhh, I'll be hitting the 46-hour mark in about 20 minutes.”

“Aish.”

The fact that you can say that so casually makes his heart hurt. He knows that whenever he doesn't get enough sleep, he makes sure everyone knows it and thus babies him accordingly. But you've always been so intent on hiding anything and everything you struggle with. It's taken years for him to bully himself past the walls you keep hidden behind shit-eating grins and an over-willingness to help.

“Okay,” he says, moving to the dresser to grab an extra set of clothes. “I'll be over in an hour.”

“Wait. What?”

“You heard me.” He tosses the clothes onto his bed before going to grab one of his duffle bags, firmly asserting, “You've got an hour to mentally prepare yourself for my arrival.”

“Honey, you've got a big storm comin',” you quote at him without hesitating.

“You sure do,” he assures with a snort. “Better get ready to feel the wrath of my friendship.”

“Why do you have to love so aggressively?”

He rolls his eyes while he throws his clothes into the duffle bag with one hand. “Because it's the only way you'll accept it, idiot.”

“No, it isn't.”

Your pout is so audible through the phone that Seungkwan has to stop and glance at the screen in disbelief.

“Y/n. Y/n L/n. Do not stand there and lie to my face like that.”

“I'm not lying!”

“Not—” He gesticulates wildly with one hand like he's going Can you believe this shit? to an invisible TV audience. “Okay, tell me this: what did you do the last time I sincerely monologued at you about how much you mean to me as a friend, hmm? No bits, no bullshit, just me telling you how much I love you and how amazing you are.”

A beat. “I'll hang up on you, Kwannie, don't test me.”

He barely resists the urge to shove his face into the bedspread and scream. “You're literally proving my point right now!”

“Kwannieeee,” you whine, because you know he's right.

“Also, because I'm never letting you live it down, I will remind you exactly what you did."

You say his name again, but it's muffled, and he assumes it's because you're hiding your face in shame.

“I gave you a sincere, heartfelt speech about how much your friendship has changed my life for the better and made me become a better person—” he ignores your wordless pterodactyl screech, “—and how do you respond? By staring at me like a deer caught in the headlights, slowly raising your arms to give me double finger guns, winking, and then slowly backing out of the room like an awkward mannequin!”

“...”

“Well?” He puts his free hand on his hip. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“… I’ve changed a lot since then.”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes before moving to continue packing his overnight bag. “It was literally three months ago.”

“Yeah, and? Doesn't change the fact that I've changed,” you assert.

“Into even more of a nuisance? Yes, you're absolutely right.” He smiles when he hears you scoff playfully.

“Listen here, Boo Seungkwan. You know that well-rested Y/n is ready to throw down with you at a moment's notice. What do you think sleep-deprived, zero-impulse-control Y/n is going to do the second you get to their front door?”

“Stop referring to themself in the third person, hopefully,” he mutters, finally zipping up his bag and heading to the door. “And then after that, they're going to let me bully them into resting.”

“Hmm. The council has heard your proposal, briefly pondered it, and deemed it “unnecessary” on the basis of: they're a bad bitch that can't be stopped by neither time nor physics nor any god of your choosing.”

Seungkwan scoffs as he puts the call on speaker and sits to put on his sneakers. “Well, “the council” can go fuck right off.”

“What if the council would like to fuck right on?”

Pausing in the middle of tying his laces, he blinks down at his phone. “I'm— what?”

“Okay, real talk, what do you think it would mean in this case? Like, would this be like a 'hop on' versus 'hop off' situation? Or more like an 'I'm down for this' versus 'I'm up for this' kinda situation? Because it would have very different outcomes depending.”

Seungkwan decides that this is a debate better left for another time. “I think it means that I'm going to be at your house soon and that if you're not in your pajamas with hot Sleepy Time tea and the series Planet Earth ready to go, there will be consequences.”

“Booooooo, you whore.”

He finishes tying his laces and jabs his finger at the phone. “Consequences, Y/n.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“See you soon, love you, bye.” He hangs up before you can get another word in, but doesn't move from his seated position in the entryway.

Slowly, he takes a deep breath in and lets it out, taking a moment to lean back on his hands while he stares at the back of his front door. Specifically, at the large collage of sticky notes and pictures and doodles that have taken up residence there.

A few of the notes are ones he's gotten from other members of your shared friend group over the years (the one from Chan that reads "if u eat my rice i'll eat ur kneecaps xoxo" hangs proudly in the center, right next to a picture of him sleeping that Seungkwan managed to capture from an extremely unflattering angle). But most of them are from you.

Dumb puns, meme references, bullshit animal facts you made up just to get him to laugh… almost all of them are stupid in that extremely charming way that only you somehow manage to pull off.

But the one he's staring at now is almost completely hidden by other notes and pictures that have been added to the collage. It's a pale blue, the ink starting to fade a bit with time — the first note you ever gave him, back when you two were just people who happened to sit next to each other in an astronomy class.

Even though most of it is hidden, he doesn't need to be able to see all the tiny words you crammed into the small space to already know exactly what it says.

how do u make a space party? u planet :P u looked sad today, hope this makes u feel a little better also if this is 2 forward feel free 2 pretend i don't exist. or punt me in2 the sun idk u'd be doing me a favor tbh

He'd almost skipped class that day because of how bad he'd been feeling, but he'd decided to try and push through. And before that day, neither of you had interacted with more than a polite greeting and the occasional question about the homework.

But then you'd passed him that note, and he'd passed one back that said “that's dumb. but thank you” with a smiley face, and you'd passed another one back that said “do u think lizard people have ever been to space?” and the rest, they say, is history.

Seungkwan shakes his head with a sigh before standing up and grabbing his bag and his keys, striding determinedly out the door. He's got a best friend to take care of.

Seungkwan should be at your place soon, and you're not quite sure what to do in the meantime.

You have your laptop hooked up to the monitor in the living room with Planet Earth queued up, you have the kettle filled with water and ready to go on the stove, and you have mugs and teabags ready on the counter next to it.

The Required Tasks™️ have been completed as much as possible without the arrival of your best friend, and now all that's left to do is wait.

Which, normally, you're not the worst at. You're excellent at entertaining yourself, actually, mostly because there's always something to think about. Whether it be about cute dogs that you've seen over the past week (I wonder if the pomeranian down the street will let me pet him next time), potential plot twists for the new fantasy drama you're a little bit obsessed with (what if Gregothy was cursed the whole time???), or generic ponderings of the human existence as a whole (do souls have the metaphysical equivalent of a fingerprint?), you're pretty much always thinking about something.

Which is totally fine and dandy and cool or whatever when you have the ability to, you know, shut it off. For example, when you need to do something simple and necessary like, oh I don't know, go the fuck to sleep.

You also hate when that manic mental energy somehow translates into kinetic energy as well. It makes you feel like a hamster in a cage, watching yourself running and running and running on that stupid wheel until you exhaust yourself.

Tonight's metaphorical wheel: stimming like wild in the kitchen. Flapping, rocking, (gently) slapping, making weird and fun mouth sounds, the whole shebang.

And again, normally stimming is fun. Stimming is great. But stimming because you feel like if you don't stop moving you're going to literally vibrate out of your skin is, to put it lightly, Not It.

It takes you about ten minutes to work out all of the energy until you no longer feel like your blood was replaced with pop rocks.

With a groan, you lower yourself to the kitchen floor and lay down face first. Because despite how exhausted you feel in every possible way, there's still something like an itch in your conscious, a fucking pea underneath the miles of mattresses that refuse to let you just. Fucking. Sleep.

Your pity party must've lasted longer than you realized (or, more likely, you dissociated for a hot second there) because suddenly someone's knocking at your door at the same time you get a text from Seungkwan.

And you know it's a text from Seungkwan specifically because you got Vernon to help you change your notification settings so that whenever Seungkwan texts you, the "i love you.. bitch" sound clip plays instead of a normal text tone.

For a fraction of a second, you contemplate slowly inching your way to the door like an uncoordinated caterpillar, but you swat the thought aside like you’re swatting a gnat and you awkwardly roll to your feet and make your way to your front door.

Without hesitating, you unlock the door, swinging it open with a flourish and sticking a finger right in Seungkwan's face before he can utter a single syllable, forcing him to cross his eyes.

You open your mouth wide like you're going to say something, pause for a moment, then tap your pointed finger to his nose with a quiet "boop."

He blinks, expression turning deadpan, and sighs. "I should have expected this, honestly."

“Yep!”

You let him into your apartment, and he makes himself right at home, mildly bitching at you as he goes to get the tea ready, and something within you shifts.

The inside of your head is still a bit of a dumpster fire, unfortunately, but inside your chest... something clicks into place that you're not sure that you're ready to name. Whatever it is, though, it's soft and warm and kinda feels like your heart is being hugged.

Smiling to yourself, you follow him into the kitchen.

💤 💤 💤 💤 💤

It was pretty much straight to “business” after that, and it only takes Seungkwan one cup of tea and two episodes listening to David Attenborough's dulcet narrations for him to knock right out, leaning heavily against your shoulder on the couch.

Which means it's now the perfect time to sit there and Admire Your Bro™️.

It's rare to see him so still, you think. He's an active guy, in pretty much every sense of the word, and you always feel a little honored when you get to be witness to his quiet, vulnerable moments like this one.

He looks so serene, face smoothed out and painted in soft twirling shades of blue from the screen of the monitor, though you can't see too much of it from this angle. Mostly you just see his cheeks and stupidly adorable button nose.

And you've seen the same thing a million times before — in all kinds of states and expressions — and despite how much you've tried to ignore it, each and every time you've caught yourself noticing just how cute Seungkwan is, it's caused that thing in your heart to scrunch up, full of the L-word feeling that you've kept unnamed for what feels like forever now.

Except, maybe that thing in your heart is tired of scrunching up. Maybe it's decided that it's tired of forever.

Maybe that thing has finally decided to burrow itself out of the walls you've built up because you find yourself finally allowing yourself to think, Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

You don't realize that Seungkwan has completely stilled against you, but you certainly notice when he suddenly throws himself forward so he can turn around and stare at you incredulously. Only he overshoots a little bit and ends up falling off the couch with a squawk and a dramatic flail.

"Oh my god, Kwannie are you okay?!"

He stares at you from where he fell, wide-eyed like you've grown a second head or like the time you'd tried to convince him that birds weren't real and actually just a government conspiracy.

"Am— am I okay? No??"

Now it's your turn to move off of the couch, coming down to his level to see if maybe he hurt himself when he fell. "Fuck, okay, did you hit something? Do you need an icepack?"

Seungkwan being Not Okay is maybe one of the worst things that could ever happen in the entire universe and you're trying not to panic as you reach out to check for injuries.

"No, no, stop—" he bats away at your hands and you stop in your motions, now kneeling in front of him. "I'm not hurt!"

Your brain does the cartoonish screech thing as it comes to a halt, and you furrow your brows. "But.. you just said you're not okay?"

"I'm not!" His eyes are still wide in shock, but he also looks confused and maybe a little bit like he's about to cry?

Oh no. If he cries and it's somehow your fault (because it has to somehow be your fault) you think the world might actually end.

"Okay, uh. I am— confused,” you start, sure you must look as lost as you feel. “But, um, what can I do to help?"

He swallows, and a part of you realizes that he's looking at you with an expression you've never seen before. "Did you mean it?"

Knowing that it's significant but not yet knowing why, you maintain eye contact. "Mean what?"

"What you just said."

You blink. "...that I'm confused?"

He shakes his head. "No, before that."

You have a hard time remembering what you just said when you're not sleep-deprived and worried you've just somehow accidentally caused irreparable emotional damage to your best friend. "Uh... when I asked if you were okay?"

"No, fuck," and it's a shock for some reason, hearing him cuss right now. You hear him say much worse things all the time, but you think it might be the way he said it — with a kind of desperate vulnerability that you're not sure you've ever heard from him before.

That thing in your chest twinges and you think maybe you're the one who's gonna start crying.

He says your name like a plea, and then he's on his knees right in front of where you're kneeling on the floor, reaching forward to cup your face in his palms. "You said— Y/n, you said "holy shit I think I'm in love with you.””

Oh.

You're pretty sure your heart falls right out of your ass and bounces across the rug, judging from the way it comes to a dead stop. You blink at him. Full of new and sinking kind of dread, you whisper, "...I said that out loud?"

He laughs, but it's tinged with incredulity and sounds a little too close to a sob for comfort. "Yes! You did!"

And wait, no, your heart is still stuck in your chest, because you can feel it start pounding against your ribcage in double, triple, quadruple time. He must see the fear in your expression, because suddenly his eyes are narrowed in a determined scowl and he growls, "Oh no you don't."

Then you find yourself going down with a yelp as Seungkwan octopuses himself around you, trapping you within the confines of his surprisingly strong arms and legs as he basically tackles you to the floor.

You try and wiggle away even as you know it's useless, and he grits, "Y/n dammit, answer my question."

"Why were you even awake?” You deflect, getting an arm free and trying to give him a wedgie. “You were supposed to be asleep!"

"I was supposed to be asleep?!” He screeches, easily evading your reach and poking your ribs to get you to reflexively pull back your arm. “You're the one who hasn't slept in literal days! And stop avoiding my question!"

"No!" He has you trapped once again, and you resort to licking his arm.

"Oh my god!"

He muffles his scream into your shoulder, long and frustrated, and then he just... goes limp. He loosens his hold and just lets his full body weight kinda crush the parts of you he's ended up lying on and just... lays there.

This is your chance, you know — to wiggle free and escape and run away from your feelings just like you always have.

But, for some reason, you don't — that scrunched-up thing in your chest holds you back. You stay there, lying beneath Seungkwan on the floor of your living room at one-something in the morning, and the two of you just breathe.

"It's okay, you know," he murmurs after a moment, so quiet you barely hear him over David Attenborough still narrating softly in the background. "If you didn't mean it. It's okay."

Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

And you realize how easy it would be to play it off, to blame it on the sleep deprivation, the way you blurted it out like that — to say (to lie) you meant it completely platonically, like the way you propose to Mingyu at least once a month when he cooks you all dinner.

And you also realize, quite shockingly, that despite how a part of you still desperately wants to run away, the larger part of you wants to stay. Doesn't want to run. Doesn't want to lie anymore.

You swallow heavily, briefly close your eyes, and take in a deep breath. "And if I did? Mean it?"

This time, you do notice when Seungkwan goes still. Slowly, he lifts his head so he can look you in the eyes.

When he doesn't say anything, just continues to look at you with an unreadable expression, you try to continue.

"Would you— would that— would it be okay? If I meant it? When I— when I said that I'm in love with you? Is— because um, like you said, it's okay if it's not, and uh—"

Your nervous rambling comes to a stop when he once again cups your face, but it's gentler than before, closer to a caress. The whole time you'd been talking he'd been slowly sitting up, and now he's on his knees next to where you're still lying down on the floor, looking down at you like all the hope in the world is somewhere to be found in your expression.

"Y/n." he says your name like it's something precious, and you feel the absurd urge to burst into tears. "It would be very okay." His thumbs make gentle arcs across your cheeks. "And just to be clear: you mean it in a non-platonic sense, right?” He chews on his lip. “Hopefully, in a very much romantic sense?"

Staring at him staring at you, eyes bright with hope and a little bit of wonder... you can only imagine you must be looking at him the same way. Your chest feels like it's full of helium but also like something warm and gooey is sloshing around in there. And all that hope and wonder and holy shit is this actually happening? is causing your tongue to stick to the roof of your mouth, and all you're able to get past your lips is a breathless, "Hopefully?"

"Oh my god," he groans in frustration, but it's light and airy and makes you think of amusement park rides and fairy lights and how you want to annoy the shit out of this man for the rest of his life, if he'll let you. He's shaking his head, smiling, beaming, and he asks, "Why can you never give me any kind of a straight answer, huh?"

"Because it's my life's purpose to be the bane of your existence until the day we die," you say, reaching up to hold his face too. "Also because I've never done anything straight ever in my life."

And then your body is moving before your brain can think it though, dragging him down until you can press your lips to his and finally, finally know what it's like to kiss Boo Seungkwan.

He makes a little noise of surprise, one that you can feel buzz against your lips before he melts into you. And oh, any thoughts you might have had are forcefully ejected from your brain because all you can focus on are his lips pressed to yours, the way they move slowly, gently, turning this chaste kiss into the most scorching experience of your life. His nose bumps against yours and the heat of his warm breath sends tingles throughout your body, and his hands, fuck, his hands are still holding you gently but also with a firmness that feels like he doesn't want to let you go.

And then he's pulling away, and you whine at him because this may be the cruelest thing he's ever done to you ever in your entire life. "Noooooo, why'd you stop?"

"Because, as much as I'd love to continue to make out with you on your floor while an old British man narrates about life on the Serengeti—” he mercifully ignores the way you choke on your spit at the way he talks about making out with you so nonchalantly "—it's past someone's bedtime."

Your mouth drops open in offended shock. Was he actually going to put you to bed like a child? Like you both hadn't just declared your romantic love for each other? "Are you fucking serious?"

He just stands up and crosses his arms, looking down at you with a single raised eyebrow. You take the part of you that finds it annoyingly attractive and promptly smother it, crossing your own arms from your position on the floor.

"I'm not a baby," you definitely don't pout.

"Hmmm...” And then the bastard fucking pouts at you. “But you're my baby."

You blink at him.

"Welp, that was nice while it lasted,” you grunt, rolling to your feet, “but I suddenly need to relocate to Antarctica and become a penguin herder.”

He pulls you into his arms with a laugh, and you let him, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

“You know,” he starts after he's held you for a few moments. “This isn't how I ever imagined how us confessing to each other would go.”

You snort.

“But also,” he continues, “it feels very 'us' doesn't it?”

"Yeah,” you murmur, not bothering to lift your head from his shoulder.

“Mmm, is someone finally sleepy?” he teases, starting to waddle you both towards your bedroom. “Did all the emotions finally wear you out?”

Instead of nodding, you lightly kick him in the shin and the sappy part of your brain that is currently in charge of everything thinks that his indignant squawk is one of your most favorite sounds.

The sappy part of your brain is right, of course, and when you wake up in your bed 15 hours later and accidentally smack him in the face, the urge to run is a little bit smaller than it was before. And the way he flushes bright red after you sleepily kiss him on the cheek is an image you're going to cherish until the day you die.

#svtsource #seungkwan fluff #seungkwan fic #seungkwan x y/n #seungkwan x you #seungkwan x reader #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #savv writes #savv fics #in my queue world

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kaleldobrev · 1 year ago

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I’ve Got Ya

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader & Dean Winchester

Summary: Dean trying to comfort you after a nightmare

Word Count: 162

Warnings: No dialogue from reader or any use of Y/N

Authors Note: I’m really loving how these drabbles have been coming out, and I hope you are too | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

“I’ve got ya,” Dean said, holding you tightly in his arms as you softly cried into his chest; the sounds of your cries slightly muffled. “It was just a nightmare. It wasn’t real Sweetheart,” he whispered, kissing your temple.

“Never gonna leave ya,” he whispered again into your hair, reassuring you. “I love you. Always have, always will,” he added.

Your crying and tears never let up. He didn’t know what you had a nightmare about; but he knew it was one that really hit hard on your insecurities.

"Whatever it was, you can tell me, I'm here." He started rubbing your back now, his t-shirt starting to get slightly damp from your tears. "Whenever you're ready," he clarified.

He didn't know if you were ever going to tell him, or when you would stop shedding tears. But what Dean did know, was that one of the things that he hated most in the world besides the monsters, was seeing you cry.

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#Dean Winchester x you #Dean Winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #spn drabble #SPN drabbles #SPN one shot #supernatural imagine #supernatural Drabble #supernatural drabbles #supernatural one shot #dean x you #dean x reader #reader insert #female reader

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baronessvonglitter · 1 year ago

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Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 5 🍒

"The Party & the Long Walk Home"

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 3,853

Summary: Sarah tags along with you at a party, ending in a confession you never expected.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, underage drinking (reader --Sarah takes a small sip), drug use 🌿(reader), big ol' age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35), kissing, some dry humping, reader has hair long enough for a ponytail and wears a skirt, reader's race not mentioned, no use of y/n

Series Masterlist

"I can't wait to go to parties," Sarah says as she leafs through a pile of clothes on your bed. You've gone through everything in your closet and can't find anything to wear. While you're frustrated, Sarah finds it fascinating. She doesn't have an older sister or even any close cousins to experience this with. Having no younger sisters yourself, you are pleased that she's absorbed in the intricacies of this level of life.

"You'll be going to parties soon enough," you tell her, watching with a sisterly care as she puts outfits together with her own style in mind. "Some of this stuff is kinda small for me now. You can have them if you want," you offer a couple of tanks tops and shorts, recalling the dates you'd gone on in those clothes, the trips to Astroworld, weekends in Galveston. You don't know when you'll do any of those things again, or if you'll have someone to do them with. Joel still looms large in your mind, your flirtatious teasing from earlier today still fresh on your mind. You want to see him again, but you're not sure how to instigate such a plan, but being neighbors is an advantage.

Then she asks exactly what you think she's going to ask: "Can I go with you?"

You shake your head. "Absolutely not. Your dad would kill me."

Sarah shrugs. "He doesn't have to know."

"Trust me, he'll know. Plus it's gonna be an older crowd. I don't think it would be safe for you."

Sarah's quiet, and when you look at her you see vexation in her expression. "Your dad trusts me with you," you explain. "And he's the last person I want mad at me."

"Do you like him or something?" Sarah asks suddenly, accusatorily.

You freeze while brushing your hair, keeping your eyes on the mirror at your vanity. "What, like.. what do you mean?"

"You like him. I'm not stupid. The pool party," she says, starting to count on her fingers. "You're always coming around, and when you look at him there's this stupid little grin on your face and you blush.. you have a crush on my dad and it's so weird."

You don't know what to say. In fact she's more astute than you give her credit for. "Sarah, I--"

"It's okay," she cuts you off with a wave of her hand. "I mean, most of my friends do. Have a crush on him, I mean. I'm used to it by now. And he doesn't look at my friends the way he looks at you."

Your heart both stills and pounds, the sound growing louder in your ears. "What do you mean?" You realize you're starting to sound like a broken record.

Sarah looks like she's said something she hasn't meant to. "Forget it. It's weird."

"It's not weird," you try to convince her.

"It is! I mean, I catch him staring at you sometimes, even just staring at your house like he's waiting for you to come out."

You try to keep your expression neutral, but you feel your face blush. "You're probably imagining it," you tell her to try to make her feel better.

She just shakes her head. "Maybe.. how would you feel if your father liked your best friend?"

"I haven't seen him since I was about your age, so I wouldn't know."

She gets quiet, playing with the little fairy lights that hang on your headboard. You get the feeling that she understands, in some way, what it's like when a parent goes away.

"We don't have to talk about your dad," you tell her. "I guarantee he's not interested in me that way. He probably thinks I'm way too young for him anyway." But now you're tempted to ask if he talks about you, mentions you in even the most mundane of conversations. You wish you could see yourself through his eyes, as cliche as it sounds.

Sarah watches you from the corner of her eye, and you hate to wonder what she's thinking, because maybe she's being protective of her father. Wouldn't you be? "This is the weirdest conversation I've ever had," she mutters.

This wrenches a little chuckle from you. "Yeah, me too."

She goes quiet again and you wonder just how deeply this unsettles her, because if it's not a big deal then why does it seem to dominate the room?

"I think he's kinda cute," you admit, as if that's all you have thought of him, as if he's an afterthought to everything else in your life.

A little smile appears, lifting the corners of Sarah's face. "Ew."

You finally decide on a belted denim mini-skirt and a baby blue halter top. You're a little out of your comfort zone of your usual graphic tee and cutoff shorts, but you also want to make a good impression. And, if Joel just happens to see me dressed up, that wouldn't be so bad. You clasp on a silver charm bracelet and swipe on a shimmery pink nail polish, Your hair is styled up, a casual ponytail with soft tendrils framing your face. Sarah helps you put this look together, and in this you have reset your bond of friendship.

You watch movies together at her place, hoping that Sarah will fall asleep first so you can leave without feeling guilty. The only other option is taking her with you to the party and, well, that's not really an option. You're halfway through watching The Blair Witch Project when Sarah goes upstairs. You assume she's getting ready for bed, and when the time Hailey has texts you she's here to pick you up, you get ready to leave, and Sarah comes out after you. She's dressed up similarly to you, looking older, more mature.

"What are you doing?" you ask at the same time she says, "I'm coming with you."

"Like hell you are!" You're shocked that she would even think of coming along. "I already told you no."

Hailey honks her horn as you and Sarah argue on the porch.

"Please! Just for a little bit! My dad's gonna be out all night, he's never gonna know! Please," Sarah begs.

You feel bad for even considering it. But you can't force her back inside. She's not a child, and you remember being her age. The party is just a few blocks away, and you can get a ride back. You'll think of something, you're sure.

"One hour, no more," you say sternly, and let her in the car with you.

At Hailey's, the music greets you first, loud, booming, making everything around you alive. Inside is full of people talking, laughing, dancing, drinking from beer bottles or red solo cups. It's old hat to you, but Sarah is fascinated, sticking by your side. "Just stay with me," you tell her anyway.

You lose Hailey, who joins another group doing shots in the dining room, and make yourselves at home in the kitchen, picking over the rest of Hailey's birthday cake. You consider this is the safest place for her. "It's kind of like what you see in the movies," she says, eyeing the bottles of alcohol and mixers on the counter.

You smile and pour her a soda. "Just pretend there's already alcohol in this and nobody will try to coerce you into drinking," you smirk. You pour one for yourself, and manage to sneak in a little rum when she's not looking.

The crowd is mostly people from Starbucks, and a few older people you feel are too sketchy for you and Sarah to be around. "I thought you said we could be here for an hour. Can we at least walk around?" she asks, as if reading your mind.

"Sarah, I really don't think--"

"Come on! This is probably the only party I'll ever get to go to," she whines, which is so unlike her.

"All right, fine," you pour yourself a little more rum and coke, and bring her to the garage where there's a game of beer pong going on, mostly guys cheering and cursing. You roll your eyes. "Interesting enough for you?" you playfully elbow her. "Just think: this is what I have to look forward to for the next four years." You bring her out to the backyard where most of the action is. Colored LED lights hang in canopy fashion between the trees, a large trampoline sits, empty, in the corner. "Jump?" you suggest to Sarah. She nods eagerly and you get on, downing your drinks and leaving the empty cups on the ground. You jump gingerly at first, testing the endurance of the trampoline, then you both start jumping, laughing, falling down, getting back up. You can't remember the last time you jumped on a trampoline. Your mother was always overprotective, so you never owned anything that could be counted as fun because she worried you'd get hurt. And now you revel in this feeling, this little rush of freedom. Nobody knows where you are, nobody has tabs on you, and you're pretty sure if you jump high enough you might just fly up to the stars..

Then it's interrupted when a couple of guys come up through the netting and watch you and her. Not that you're unfriendly, but you do have Sarah to look out for. "Can we join you?"

Sarah looks to you and you see the hope in her eyes. "Sure," you say, with an edge of wariness to your voice.

You stop jumping as they climb in, and when they sit, so does Sarah. You sigh and join them. It's still a little unsteady when one of you moves, making little bouncy waves on the trampoline. One of the guys pulls out a joint from his shirt pocket and lights it up, passing it to his friend after taking a puff. You look nervously towards Sarah. This is probably the best time to leave. "She can't," you tell them. "She's on probation. She has a parole officer and everything." It's a little white lie, and one you hope will A.) get them to leave her alone and B.) make her feel kind of cool with an older crowd.

"What about you?" The second guy asks, handing you the joint.

Just once, it's not like I haven't done this before.

Shrugging, you take it and inhale deeply, coughing a little as you exhale and pass it back to the first guy.

"Y'all new around here?" they ask of you and Sarah.

"We're here for the weekend," you lie confidently. "We're from LA."

"No shit? Cali babes. What are your names?"

"Shayla," Sarah says, owning it. "And this is my sister Diamond."

You try not to laugh. The alcohol and the weed are already getting to you. "Yeah. Same mom, different dads."

The guys give one another a look, and you don't know if they're buying your story or just laughing at it. "I'm Mike and this is Emilio," they introduce themselves.

You pass the joint between the three of you until it's done, and Mike brings out some apple brandy in a brown paper bag. This time you don't bat an eye when Sarah grabs the bottle after your sip, and you burst with laughter as she takes a drink and coughs, dismissing her future turns.

Not long after, you're all laying on the trampoline, staring up at the night sky. The stars are numerous, like diamonds sprinkled upon dark velvet. Mike and Emilio are nice, not flirtatious, and respect the boundaries you've put up from the get-go. There's a nice, buzzy feeling in your brain and in your heart. Next to you, Sarah reaches her hand out and you hold it.

"It's been more than an hour." Her voice sounds sleepy.

"Hmm? Oh shit." You pull out your phone and look at the time. "It's almost midnight, Cinderella. Time to leave the ball." Your voice sounds odd, and you feel your heartbeat in your ears as you get up. The bouncy movements of the trampoline make you dizzy. "Ready?" you ask her.

There's a commotion from within the house, and people are rushing outside to the patio. "Cops!" someone shouts, and you and the others are alert. "Shit! We've gotta get out of here," you tell Sarah. The guys are already gone, having leapt over the fence and into a neighbor's yard.

You and Sarah follow some people going through a door in the fence, it leads to a darkened area near the highway. Beyond there are lights for hotels, gas stations, and fast food restaurants. "It's too dangerous," you tell Sarah. But can you go back? You take a right, going into the grassy area beneath an underpass, and hear footsteps following you. You know it's not the cops but in your paranoid state you can't be sure. Your grip on Sarah's hand remains tight.

A few of the partygoers, including yourselves, split up, some going towards the lighted areas, but your neighborhood is the other way. It's dark, little traffic, but that doesn't mean it's safe. You follow the highway until it reaches an exit into a more residential area. In your inebriated state you focus harder on recognizing the landmarks. There's a motel, and an all-night restaurant next adjacent. "This way," you tell Sarah, and walk together, trying to stay under the streetlights and out of the shadows. You're out of danger of being caught or arrested, but you still have to make it home. "Shayla and Diamond?" you repeat, recalling the names Sarah had given yourselves. "You had to give us the most stripper-like names, huh?"

Sarah grins. "If you're gonna give fake names, they'd better be good ones."

You pass a few businesses and come up on a bar, with loud rock music blasting as people went in or out. Not a safe place, so you hurry, even though your feet hurt and you desperately just want to sit and take a rest. The world is spinning and you feel like you might fall off. "We make a right here, and then we're just a few blocks from home," you sigh, already dreaming of falling face-first onto your comfortable bed.

"I'm sorry I was such trouble," Sarah says quietly as you enter the dark neighborhood. Dogs bark in the distance, crickets chirp loudly. "I just wanted to go out for some fun.."

"Some fun we had. Party got busted, we almost got in trouble. Your dad would have had a heart attack if he'd had to come get you from the police station."

"Promise you won't tell him?" Sarah's eyes are wide, innocent in the light of the moon.

"Promise," you say, with as much of a smile as your tipsy/high/tired self can give.

You've spoken too soon.

Behind you a truck flashes its high beams and you both turn. You're walking on the sidewalk, so there's no reason for anyone to do that. You both ignore it but he speeds up to catch up with you.

"What the hell's your problem, asshole?" you shout, freezing when you see the driver.

It's Joel.

And he looks pissed as hell.

Your brain races to think of something to say, but in an instant he reaches over to unlock the passenger door. "Get in," he commands, and Sarah dutifully gets in first, followed by you. The bench seats allow you to sit all together, and even before you've closed the door behind you, Joel takes off. It's dead quiet until he speaks.

"What the hell were you both doin' out this late?" His question is aimed at you. You're the adult. You should know better.

Sarah cuts in. "It's my fault, Dad. I made her take me to this party," she says.

"Bullshit! You have no business bein' at a party this late, dressed like a-- like a slut," he utters this last line with a glance in your direction and you want to crawl into the earth. You pull up your halter top and put your arms over your thighs to cover yourself from his accusatory gaze.

"Dad, you have no right to say that!" Sarah sticks up for the both of you.

"You're my daughter and I won't have you puttin' yourself at risk like this. Now tell me the truth: where were you? Did you drink? God damn it, did you do anything else?"

"She didn't," you cut in. It's a lie, because Sarah had that one experimental sip of brandy, but you don't feel bad about this little white lie. "She was safe with me the whole time. The party got busted and we made a run for it. That's the truth."

Joel shakes his head. "I never expected this, not from you."

You feel shame like a poison in your veins. You want to cry.

The three of you remain quiet the rest of the ride home. Joel's anger, his disappointment, weighs down the air, makes the atmosphere heavy. You feel nauseous.

He pulls up to his own driveway. "Sarah, go inside. Wait for me in the living room. We're gonna have a long talk,"

Sarah, with a despondent look in your direction, gets out as you scoot over. She goes inside the house and you make your way out too until Joel calls you back.

"Me and you ain't done."

Your heart is banging in your chest and you get back in. You've never dealt well with getting in trouble. For the most part you've walked a straight line, maybe done a few things you shouldn't have, but never have you gotten someone else in trouble with you.

"I'm sorry," you whisper when he takes forever to talk.

"I thought I knew you better. Thought you had a good head on your shoulders." Joel's voice expresses his disappointment, tinged with anger.

"It was a mistake. It won't happen ever again. I--" you shake your head, on the verge of tears.

He sees you start to cry and he sighs, trying to collect himself. "Don't cry. It's just.. you know why I'm real fuckin' mad, don't ya?"

You nod. There's hope in your chest that you'll be let off the hook. But you never can tell with Joel.

"I'd be mad too. You have every right to be mad. Just.. don't be mad at Sarah. Take it out on me." You're leaning close to him, your eyes begging for leniency. "Leave her out of it, she's a kid. There were many ways out of this and I didn't take any of them. It's my fault alone, and I'm sorry."

He's looking down at his lap, his profile lit up by the streetlight that stands between your house and his. "Joel?.." Something in you is brave when you scoot closer to him, and it all becomes a blur as you gently turn him to face you, and your lips touch his cheek.

His beard is a little rough, and feels exactly as you'd imagined it would beneath your kiss. You feel him tremble, and as you pull away his eyes open to take in the sight of you. He whispers your name as he cups your face in his hands, all his anger gone, replaced with something new. His breath shudders as he moves his touch to your arms, your sides, fingertips lightly skimming over the bare skin between your top and your skirt. You make a sound of surprise and need, and when he hears it he brings your lips to his in a crashing kiss.

Your heart throbs as you eagerly lean into his kiss, and he grabs your waist, pinning you to straddle his lap. His tongue explores your mouth as he cups the back of your head. He tastes like beer and cigarettes, and when you suck on his tongue he emits a deep groan, shifting his hips upward against you so you can feel that he wants you. You rub yourself against the hardness in his jeans, giving little gasps, searching for a way to alleviate the ache that's built up inside you. He grabs your ass as you move, guiding you over him, lifting your skirt until his fingers find the edge of your panties.

It's going to happen! It's finally going to happen! Your brain rejoices, but just as you're about to tell him you want this, he pulls away, gently removing you from his lap. He leans back in his seat, hands covering his eyes, taking deep breaths.

"Joel, what's wrong?" you ask in a small voice.

"FUCK!" his hand slams the steering wheel. He takes another deep breath, not looking at you. "We can't do this."

"What-- why not?" You feel shameful suddenly, like the slut he said you were dressed as just ten minutes before.

"You need to get out and go home. I'll talk to Sarah about this, but you and I need to forget about.. this."

You're so ashamed you could cry. "What did I do?" you ask in that same small voice.

"I just.. can't, sweetheart. We can't."

"I don't know what you think of me, but I've never.. I never have.. I'm a virgin," you practically whisper.

Joel gives a bitter laugh and runs his hands through his hair, eyes closed in longing. "Baby, that ain't makin' things any easier."

"So you don't want me."

"Sweetheart, you're beautiful, you're funny, you're smart, I like you a helluva lot. Of course I want you. You felt how much I want you, right?"

You nod.

"We've both been drinkin', and I'm pretty sure you're a little high right now. I can't take advantage of ya. I won't. As much as I want to be the first to bury my cock into that tight wet pussy, I fuckin' won't take advantage."

Your heart skips a beat, hearing him say these things, and your cunt throbs in response. But you don't know what to say.

"I'm sorry, but you gotta walk yourself home. I don't trust myself around ya, not right now," he says.

You shake yourself out of your fantasy and nod again, rearranging your clothes as you get out. The taste of him is still on your tongue, you can still feel his large, rough hands on your skin and his clothed hardness rubbing between your thighs. Even if you never see him again, this is all you will think about for the rest of your life, ever.

"Good night, Joel," you say softly, getting out and closing the door behind you. Shivering even though the night is warm, you hold yourself as you walk to your house, unlock the door and get in. Lights off, you peek through the windows as you watch Joel finally emerge from the truck. For a moment he goes towards his own house, then changes his mind and heads directly to your door. You gasp as you see him start to come up the porch steps, then he forces himself to turn back, walking resolutely to his own house, door shut for the rest of the night.

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