#also my boyfriend got me fucking insane over these two men...

[bettercallcactus]

Got lachopilled sorry

[satorusugurugurl]

My Wedding Date is an Escort!

Summary: When invited to your best friend's wedding, you panic. One of the groomsmen, Toji Fushiguro, is your ex-fiancè. Not wanting to deal with probing questions and the embarrassment of being single, your friend Haibara recommends using an Escort! Taking a leap of faith, you book one, the hottest one. Gojo Satoru is hot, sweet, and funny! The package deal! Men and Women pay thousands to go on a date with him (even more, which he doesn't do often). So when your request comes in, the desperation and pleading tone of your voice. Gojo’s heartthrobs, even more so when you tell him you don't want to have sex.

Pairing: Escort!Gojo x FAB Reader

Word Count: 3,682

Warning: Mentions of depression, anxiety, language

A/N: And so part one is complete!! Please let me know what you think! I plan on posting a new part every Saturday! In the mean time I will work on my brain worm fics/requests!!

Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight

Gold calligraphy mocked you as you stared at the wedding invitation on your table. Any normal person would have been elated over their best friend getting married. The dresses, cake, looking at venues! It should have been a happy, wonderful time.

And it would have been amazing if your best friend had met her fiance through anyone other than Toji Zenin. Your ex-fiance, the man who broke your heart, who was also the groomsman at the wedding! The same wedding you were a bridesmaid in.

Life fucking hated you.

Your break up was a year and a half ago. It was tucking painful, watching the life and future you had imagined slip away. You were inconsolable for the first few months, but any other person would feel the same if their fiance broke up with them the way Toji had done to you. Part of you liked to think you were getting better; you knew you weren't healed completely.

The closer the wedding came, the more nervous and sick you got. In a month, you would have to face Toji for the first time in over a year. He was doing much better off than you. He got married! He was now Toji Fushiguro and he and his wife had a son!

Fate was a cruel bitch. He was living his dreams: a house, a pretty wife, a sweet, beautiful son. Toji got everything he wanted while you sunk into the darkness of despair. Toji had ruined you, marked you in ways you weren't sure you'd ever heal from. You never wanted to be hurt like that again. That's why you were single.

Single and traumatized. Perfect intro on your dating profile. So yeah, dating wasn't your thing right now.

Which puts you in a messy fucking predicament. You would be at a wedding with your Ex, who was living the life you had always wanted. Why was he given happily ever after while you were left to pick up the pieces of your broken heart? You could already see the pitiful expressions that your loved ones would be wearing, and that made your skin crawl with anxiety.

You could not show up to the wedding alone.

Which is why you were sitting in your kitchen, drowning in anxiety. You stared at your laptop, bouncing your leg nervously as you scrolled on Escorts4y0u.com. Damn, Yu Haibara, for suggesting this to you. You were shopping for a fuckin’ escort!?

You shot his insane suggestion down as soon as he said it. You had begun ranting about how even more embarrassing it would be if your family found out. First, your fiance leaves you a month before your wedding. Then you go and pay for someone to pretend to be your boyfriend all because you couldn’t bear yourself to start dating again?

Amid your nervous rant, Haibara just put his hand on yours. He assured you that no one would know that they were an escort. If they were good at their job, all your family would see was a happy couple. They would be someone to go to the wedding with, and once you paid them, you would never see them again! No one would be the wiser.

“It's their job to make you feel good and help you have a good time. And you deserve to be happy.” Haibara had said with pity in his eyes. Just thinking about his face, that expression, made you cringe to think of the faces of everyone at the wedding.

“Fuck it.” You cursed, clicking on the escort you liked the most.

Gojo Satoru, twenty-eight years old. His profile listed that he was well-educated and came from a prestigious clan. He was charismatic, confident, and kind. You read dozens of reviews. His previous clients gushed over him. All five stars, every single person he’d helped was grateful for him. Plus, Gojo was very attractive. He had pure white hair, was over six feet tall, and had the most stunning blue eyes you'd ever seen. He was the ideal partner anyone would want to take home to meet the family.

Which would explain why he was the most expensive escort on the website.

“¥120,000 for a day!?” You screeched as you bounced your leg faster, doing the mental math in your head. “That’s ¥900,000.00 for a week.” The mere amount of money you were about to spend almost had you slamming your laptop shut. But Haibara’s face crossed your mind; Toji’s face began to form before you shook your head.

Hiring Gojo was your only option. You had to do this to avoid getting hurt again. Plus, you had to use the deposit from your honeymoon eventually. It would be like burying the past!

“Okay, okay, you got this; just book it Y/N!” Getting up, you jumped up and down to hype yourself up before you hit the green phone icon and dialed the number. The phone rang once and twice.

“This is Gojo!” A gruff but cheery voice answered.

You’re sure your soul left your body as you squealed in shock. He answered!? The man you were going not only to pay but also beg to pretend to be your boyfriend?!

“Hello?” A faint hint of humor and curiosity laced the voice in your ear.

You groaned, rubbing your hand down your face with a whine. “S-Sorry, I was expecting a receptionist for something.” You put the phone on speaker before hitting your head against your table.

“Oh! My bad, sorry!” His chuckle was a deep noise through the receiver. “We put our business numbers on the site. It’s just easier for us to schedule our clients like this.” He hummed. “I assume you’re on the escort website?”

“Yes, I—I was wondering if you might be free next month for a wedding? It’s my best friend.”

“Give me a sec.” Shuffling papers filled your anxiety. “A month from today?”

“Yes.”

Gojo hummed happily, “I am free that whole week! So will it be the wedding and reception?” A pen could be heard writing down notes.

”So it’s uhm, it’s a destination wedding. It’s in Kyoto, and I need you for the whole week. If that’s not an issue or problem.”

”Okay, that shouldn’t be an issue. It’s far enough out that I can block my schedule.” He whistled happily, jotting down more notes. “So the whole week, wedding, reception—“

For some odd reason, it sounded like he was hesitating or weighing his options, questioning if he wanted to even take you on as a client. The growing fear of rejection spreads like wildfire through your stomach. You never used to feel like this; you were so happy and confident before. But after everything Toji did, what he said to you after you had—well, it left some really deep scars that still hadn’t healed. When your mind picked at those still healing wounds, making them bleed, you acted before thinking.

”I have the money!” Gripping the table's edge, you stared at Gojo’s headshot on the website. “Please, I need this!”

“Hey, hey! I’m not worried about the money, sweetheart.” His voice was thick like honey; the pet name sounded so sweet. “I’m just making sure I got everything down.” On the other line, Gojo looked down at his calendar. There was something in your voice, desperation, that was genuine.

He’d had tons of clients, and many of them needed help. But in his two years of working in this field, he had never heard such a raw plea for help. Gojo’s interest peaked. Just who were you? What made you so anxious and desperate for his help?

”Let me confirm the details so I can put you in my books, Ms.?” He waited for your name, hearing you sigh in relief as you calmed yourself down

”Y/N, my name is Y/N Y/L/N.”

”Y/N,” Gojo repeated, “Okay, I have you down for next month, the whole week, for a destination wedding in Kyoto.”

You were sighing happily as you relaxed into your chair. “Thank you. It’s 900,000.00. For the whole week?” Gojo cocked an eyebrow, grinning at your straightforward attitude.

”Depends, will food and hotel be included?”

“Yes, we’ll be staying at my parents' inn; they offered to host my friend's wedding. So food, money, and accommodations will be included. Plus, I’ll take care of your travel expenses.”

Gojo turned in his desk chair, biting his lip as he listened to your stern voice. “Okay, so it’s going to be ¥600,000. A lot of the cost goes to food and hotels. Since you’re taking care of it, you get a lovely discount, sweetheart.” A scoff sounded from his phone, making him smile even wider.

”Great, lucky me.”

Gojo bit his lip, chuckling. “Did you want any other additions?”

“If you’re asking if I want to include your other services, no. I don’t need sex.”

“Don’t need sex?” He perked up as Suguru, his roommate, peeked in, cocking an eyebrow at him. “Seriously?”

You gave the phone a confused look as if you were looking at Gojo yourself. “Yes, I’m dead serious.” The line went utterly silent before rich, stunned laughter filled your kitchen.

”Well shit, that’s a first!”

”Glad I could keep you on your toes, Gojo.”

”Nope.”

You blinked. “No, what?” Gojo snickered as you picked up your phone heading into your room.

”I’m going to be your boyfriend. You have a month, one month, to get used to saying my first name.” The seriousness of his tone made you stop in your tracks. “So it’s Satoru to you, Y/N.”

With a blush dusting your cheeks, you giggled, shaking your head. “Alright, that makes sense. Thank you, Satoru.”

”You’re welcome, Y/N. I’ll see you in a month.”

In one month, you were ¥600,000 poorer, and your nerves were shot as you searched for your fake boyfriend at the train station coffee shop. In the last month, you had spoken to Goj—Satoru twice over the. Once to book his services and yesterday to discuss where you were meeting. His company took care of everything else.

It was still surreal that you hired an escort to be your date, and you were waiting for a stranger at a coffee shop. This wasn't like you; it was so unbelievable. You sipped your coffee, looking around anxiously.

It was like a Greek God walked in. He was tall, like his profile said, over six-three. Dark sunglasses covered his eyes as his white fluffy hair bounced with every step. Straightening, you hesitated before lifting your hand and waving at your fake boyfriend. Seeing your arm raised, Gojo grinned, bounding forward as he pulled his sunglasses off.

“Hi! Are you Y/N?” You stood, swallowing as he still towered over you. God, he was dressed nice, all designer brand clothes. Which wasn't surprising with the amount of money you dropped to spend a week with him.

“Yes, I'm Y/L/N Y/N.” You handed him a cup of coffee that he took before sitting at the table. “Thank you again for doing this.”

Gojo grabbed six sugar packets, ripped them open, and poured all of them into his coffee. “Oh, you're welcome! I love seeing people happy.” Your eyes followed his hands as he poured cream into the coffee. “So, what's our story? That way, we're on the same page.” You couldn't help but smile as he sipped the sugary coffee with a grin.

“You have a sweet tooth?” Gojo hummed, taking another drink. “Maybe I'll make you something at the inn; I'm a pastry chef.” Gojo’s eyes went wide as you ran your fingers over the lid of your cup. “That’s a good story, we met at the bakery I wor—”

“You're a pastry chef?!” Gojo’s eyes sparkled. “Seriously?! What shop?!”

“Uhm, I work at Ichigo Cafe? It's in downtown Tokyo.”

“I love that place! The mochi there is the best!” His words had your cheeks burning your cheeks. “The cakes, the ice cream! Hell, the coffee is good too.”

You twirl your thumbs together. “Thank you, as the head chef, that makes me happy.” Satoru sat back, smiling sweetly. “So I uhm, yeah, that's a good story.”

“Yeah, it does. How long have we been together?”

The two of you settled on five months. That way, it was still pretty new. The whole time, Satoru nodded and added to your cover story. Thank god he was easy to talk to, putting your nerves at ear by the time your coffee was finished. Together, you were optimistic that you and Satoru could get through this week without a hiccup.

You both settled in on the train, getting to know each other more like favorite colors, foods, likes, and dislikes. Satoru didn't drink, had a major sweet tooth, and did his escorting gig full-time. He lived with his roommate and best friend, Geto Suguru, and he had a lot of free time.

You told him everything about yourself: likes, dislikes, favorite color, hell, even your blood type. But as the conversation began to dwindle, Satoru tilted his head. Sure, all that stuff was good now for the coming week, but he wanted to know more. Like why you hired him and why you ‘don’t do sex.’ That question had plagued his mind for the last month.

“Can I ask why you hired me?” His question had your head snapping up. “I mean, don't take this the wrong way, but you've been tense since we got on the train. There's more to this than just wanting a date to a wedding.”

“Uhh, is that obvious? I'm sorry. It's just my ex-fiance is at the wedding party with me.” Satoru paid close attention to how your eyes darkened as you looked out the window. “Our breakup was a shock since it happened a month before our wedding. So, I have all these trust issues, and I don't want to date anyone. Because it's easier not to get hurt if you don't put yourself out there.”

“Why did he break up with you?”

“Why didn't he?” The tone of your voice and words had Satoru peeking up. Not in curiosity but surprisingly in anger. Satoru had seen a lot of women and men in his days as an escort. Many are desperate, lonely, and want to have a good time. But whoever had broken your heart had hurt. You in more ways than one. “There were a lot of things that he uhm—listed off.”

You quickly changed the subject, much too fast for Satoru’s liking. But he wasn’t the type to pry, especially when it came to the feelings and comfort of his clients. So he let you change the subject. And the rest of the train ride to Kyoto, even up to your family's inn, the subject stayed clear of your ex. It was bad enough you’d be seeing him soon; you would much rather not talk about him before you saw his face.

You stood in front of the door to your family's inn. Satoru grabbed your hand, his fingers interlacing with yours as you took a deep breath. “Hey, we got this.” God, you hoped Satoru was right; this had to go perfectly.

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, you stepped inside. The laughter and distant conversations echoed off the halls as wedding guests conversed and chatted while wandering around. You spotted your mother carrying a tray. She took one glance at you before looking away.

”Oh, Y/N darling, good you’re here. Whenever you get a chance, could you help me make some treats for afternoon tea? Everyone is instant with trying those matcha cookies you made last year.” After years of helping out, in the end, your body began to move on muscle memory, but Satoru stopped you, pulling you into his side with a grin.

“Hey, don’t just up and leave me. At least introduce me to your family first, sweetheart.” The bustling, noisy chatter around you stopped as your family and friends just seemed to notice the giant man standing beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he leaned down to kiss your temple. “My poor sweet girl is already in work mode. I thought this was supposed to be a vacation.”

”Right, of course, I’m sorry, Satoru. Everyone, this is my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru.”

”Eh!?”

Those sad, pitful reactions you had been so familiar with over the last year and a half were nowhere to be found on the faces of your loved ones. They were faces of shock, curiosity, and joy. A much better reaction, one that had you letting out a shaky breath you had no idea you were holding in. As you basked in relief, dark eyes watched the two of you, reading you.

The afternoon went off without a hitch. Satoru fit in with any conversation thrown his way. From what he did for a living to how the two of you met, he never stuttered or looked to you for help. He was exactly what you needed. With Gojo by your side, you knew you could get through this wedding without losing yourself in the darkness again.

You owed Haibara big time for this.

After the two of you answered several rounds of twenty questions and an early dinner, you and Satoru stepped into your room. You shut the door, sliding back against it as you shut your eyes. “Oh my gosh, that went much better than anticipated.” Satoru chuckled, setting both of your luggage off in the corner of the room.

“You did great.” His praise had you smiling more. “Seriously, this will be a walk in the park!”

You wanted to agree with him, but your mouth remained shut. That was just your family you met with. Things might be a different story when you face Toji. Because despite you not wanting him to, you knew he could read you like a book. He always could tell when you weren’t feeling the best or something was wrong. But maybe, if you keep playing your card right, you might be able to fool him, too.

”Yeah, a walk in the park.” You looked around the room, relieved to find the futon already laid out for you both. But it was missing the extra pillows you had asked for. The pillows that were going to be used to separate you and Satoru. “Huh, I thought my dad said the pillows would be here when we got to the room. I’ll be right back; the shower is just to the right if you want to wash up first.”

“Awesome, thanks a lot.”

As you reached for the door, the handle turned, startling you. Satoru moved so fast, his arms wrapping around you as the door opened wide. “Have you ever heard of knocking before? My girlfriend and I could have been doing something. If you saw that, I would have had to charge you for the show.” Satoru started as the door opened wide, revealing the person standing in front of it, four pillows in his arms.

”You seriously think I believe that?”

Your body went rigid as you stared into the dark eyes of the man who broke your heart. “T-Toji? What are you doing here?” You learned further back into Satoru’s chest, trying to put distance between the man that had stained your life.

“Bringing you your pillows.” He motioned his chin down at them to emphasize his words. “Look, we need to talk.”

Satoru could feel your breath quicken, your chest moving faster with each inhale you took. From your reaction, he could figure out just who exactly this asshole was. This dark-haired asshole who just barged into your room had to be the ex you didn’t want to talk about in any way, shape, or form. Looking at him, Satoru came to one conclusion without even knowing the guy. He was a fucking prick.

”Look, Toji, I’m exhausted. I don't want to talk right now.” You snatched the pillows away from him. “Satoru and I were going to get ready for bed. I require some TLC tonight.” You went to shut the door, but Toji placed his palm against it, preventing it from moving.

”Please, you and I both know this isn’t your boyfriend. I need to talk to you now. Tell your friend here he can fucking wait until our conversation is over.”

The tone and mere attitude of the prick in the door had Satoru seeing red. He released you, turning you to face him, glaring daggers at the man spewing toxic commands. “I’m not a friend.” Satoru spit out the last word. In a flash, his hand gripped your chin, turning you towards him. His other hand rested on the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss.

It was your first kiss in a year and a half, a kiss that was full of rage and passion like you had never experienced before. Satoru’s kiss was for show, but fuck, it had your knees buckling. You matched his pace, kissing him back urgently. His hands tangled in your hair while you fisted his shirt. You prayed that this mini-makeout session was enough to fool your ex. Satoru pulled away to glare at Toji. His chest rose and fell as he slowly licked his bottom lip with a smirk.

“My girlfriend and I were just getting ready to bed, if you caught the drift. If she wants to talk to you tomorrow, she’ll find you. Later.” Without another word, Satoru slammed the door in Toji’s face before turning to face you.

”Wow.” Was all you could manage to say as you ran your fingers over your lips. Seeing you do that while hearing your breathless voice had Satoru fifty shades of red. In his whole career as an escort, he has never lost his cool like that until he was with you.

Oh, he was fucked.

(TBC)

[tightjeansjavi]

♡ And They Were Roommates ♡

chapter 1 : The Guard Dog

Pairing | Joel Miller x Logan Howlett x f!reader

A/N: this chapter got away from me so fast, but I’m really pleased with how it turned out! After seeing Deadpool & Wolverine for the first time a couple weeks ago, I immediately re-entered my marvel phase and rewatched both Deadpool movies and all of the x-men/wolverine movies (yes, it’s an obsession) the Wolverine was always one of my favorite marvel characters outside of Deadpool and Iron Man. I’m so happy that myself and others are taking the leap to write for him and other characters 🥹 I hope you all enjoy this mini series! I’m super excited for it 💗 comments and reblogs are always appreciated! Thank you @sinsofsummers for betaing and letting me yap at u! And thank u @syd-djarin for also letting me yap 🥰

word count: 8.8k

Summary: after saving the world with Wade, Logan finds himself in a new, strange world. Human life is scarce, (as far as he can see). There’s weird looking mushroom-headed fucks, and he doesn’t have a clue what year it is, either. After traveling aimlessly for months, the Wolverine runs into you, and your guard dog of a boyfriend, Joel Miller.

Warnings: mature themes, smut, implied age gap, brief mention of a gunshot wound, touch of angst, language, derogatory comments about mutants (by Joel) alcohol consumption, brief mention of ouid, pining, hints of a throuple/love triangle, voyeurism (sorta) this Logan is the ‘worst’ variant, but you can picture him however you’d like!, reader has no physical descriptions (I imagine her to be short, but she is a blank slate) +18, minors dni!

series masterlist

If someone had told you before the outbreak that in 20ish years, (math is not my strong suit, sorry) you would be living the life of “luxury” with not only one guard dog as a boyfriend, but two who also were boyfriends, you would have laughed in that person's face and told them that they were in fact insane—but now? Now you wouldn’t even question it. Your life in Jackson before meeting Joel Miller and Logan Howlett was the closest thing to normalcy that you had experienced since the outbreak. You had a home again, a job, and a purpose. But like all things, you were craving more; something new and exciting. Instead of you finding it, Joel Miller found you—or was it the other way around?

He was old fashioned in every sense. Insisting on properly pursuing you after you caught his eye at the corner of the bartop of the tipsy bison. Your care-free spirit and intoxicating aroma had his mind reeling at the thoughts of what he could be doing to you if it was just the two of you in the Bison, all alone with no distractions or disturbances.

He hadn’t thought about women, or sex, or settling down with someone in over 20 years. But here you were, throwing back another shot of whiskey and subconsciously unnerving him further without having any idea as to what it was that you were doing to him.

You were, however, aware that he was watching you, carefully between his harsh swigs from the glass that was perfectly perched in one of his meaty palms.

Mr. New and Exciting is right there. What are you waiting for? Your mind pointed out the obvious as if there was a flashing arrow right above the man’s head of thick, salt and peppered streaked curls that you were dying to run your fingers through.

You downed the remaining contents of your glass for that extra boost of liquid courage and made your move before he could even properly execute his own plan to approach you.

He stiffened, jaw ticking when he felt the bare heat from your arm brush against his own, sending sparks shooting down his forearm all the way down to where his large hand was tightly gripping the glass.

“I’m here to break the ice between us, stranger. Y’know, considering you’ve been staring at me for the past…hour.”

“Excuse me?” He scoffed, bringing the rim of his glass up to his lips for a moment. “Think you oughta get your eyes checked out first before ya start makin’ accusations.” He grumbled, low and deep. His eyes flickered in your direction, brows furrowed together across his forehead in a harsh line.

“Think my eyes are working just fine, thank you very much.”

He tore his harsh gaze away from your face and focused his attention on the mounted moose head on the wall instead. “Buzz off, darlin’. I ain’t lookin’ for conversation.” He snarled and went to slide off the worn down seat, but he was frozen in his spot when your hand wrapped around his bulging bicep, and he felt like a leashed, obedient dog.

“You think I’m here to talk?” You laughed and he immediately felt a hot flush rise from his neck and creep up his face at your brash confidence.

“Ain’t that what most women want nowadays?” He countered your boldness with a gravelly chuckle that sent warmth immediately spreading across your entire body at the scratchy, deep, sound that emitted from his throat.

“Lucky for you, I’m not like most women. Now, how about instead of eye fucking me from across the bar, why don’t we skip the small talk and you take me home instead?” You said with a coy smile and a suggestive tilt of your chin. You loosened your grip around his bicep only to then drag your fingers down the expanse of his arm, watching the muscles there subtly flex from your featherlight touch.

He weighed out his options, glancing around the crowded bar, leaning in close to crowd your personal space entirely. His eyes flickered down towards your lips, and then his heedy gaze met your own almost in a challenge.

“Don’t gotta tell me twice, darlin.’” He rasped, reaching for your hand.

And only when you found yourself with your back pressed against Joel Miller’s front door, and his lips attacking your own, did he finally tell you his name between bruising kisses and wandering hands.

And well, the rest is history.

~~

Your arrangement with Joel worked flawlessly for an entire year, and while you both were content without having any labels, being known as Joel Miller’s girl never failed to make your heart melt, and he fucking turned into a goddamn puddle on the floor anytime he got to hear refer to him as your boyfriend.

Life truly could not have gotten better for either of you, but it certainly could get worse in Joel’s case of repeated misfortune. That misfortune being Logan Howlett, the last standing mutant to exist in this universe and now the bane of Joel’s existence.

“What in the fuck are those things comin’ out of your hands?!” A very angry, cold, and bewildered Joel Miller barked over the metallic click of the Wolverine's claws being unsheathed between his knuckles.

“Ya got two workin’ eyes, don’t ya, pal? The fuck do they look like to you?!” The stranger growled, advancing towards the other man.

“Joel?!” Another man’s voice was heard in the distance, followed by thundering hooves and a sharp whinny.

“I got this handled, Tommy!” The other man snapped when Tommy rode up beside him, immediately hopping down from the saddle with his rifle at the ready at the immediate threat in front of them.

Logan was able to quickly piece together with limited information that these two men were brothers, just based on their similar looks and mannerisms.

“Listen, boys, if I was you, I’d lower them guns and pretend that ya never crossed paths with me.”

“Are those fuckin’ knives coming out of his fists?!” Tommy Miller whispered to his brother who nodded in confirmation.

“Yeah, he’s some mutant freak. Somethin’ FEDRA musta cooked up.” Joel responded in an equally hushed whisper.

Logan swiftly turned his head to the side, an audible cracking sound in his neck could be heard through the chilling evening air. “You’re really gonna regret callin’ me that, bub.” He snarled, barring his teeth like a rabid dog and advanced forward with full intent to slash his claws through the other man’s chest.

Joel’s reflexes were surprisingly fast even in his age, and when Logan advanced forward, he pulled the trigger on his own rifle, the shot ringing through and startling a flock of birds in a nearby tree, sending them flying upwards towards the sky in a haphazardly direction, squawking loudly.

The bullet hit Logan square in the chest, but the Wolverine barely even staggered backwards from the force of the bullet, and he let out an animalistic, nothing-short-of-pissed-off growl while the two men a short distance away had equal looks of horror on their faces when Logan’s body began to push the embedded bullet out from his chest and heal the once open wound.

The single bullet landed in the snow beneath Logan’s boots just as a high pitched whistle could be detected in the distance.

“What the actual fuck…his body can regenerate itself?!” Tommy whispered to his brother in disbelief.

Joel ignored him and raised his rifle towards the Wolverine again, thumb hovering over the trigger when you appeared on your horse through the snowy cluster of evergreens.

“JOEL! HOLD YOUR FIRE!” You demanded and swung your leg over the saddle, landing on the ground without fault and quickly inserted yourself between the Miller Brother’s and the seething Wolverine with your hands lifted in the air above your head.

“What the hell are you doin’ here?!” Joel diverted his attention to you and your untimely arrival. “Get behind me! We don’t know who or what the fuck this guy is, and he’s clearly dangerous!”

“Listen to your girl, bub. Lower your fuckin’ gun and jus’ let me pass, and we can forget this whole thing fuckin’ happened!” Logan yelled over your shoulder, nostrils flaring and muscles flexing with unbridled rage.

“Will you both just shut the fuck up?!” You snarled in frustration and glared over your shoulder at your unpredictable boyfriend. Let’s all just lower our weapons and take some deep, calming, breaths.”

“Un-fuckin’ believable.” The Wolverine scoffed, fighting the urge to roll his eyes at your assertiveness.

Joel and Tommy both slowly and very reluctantly lowered their rifles towards the ground, but the Wolverine’s extended metal claws did not retract at your demand.

“That includes you too, knives.”

Logan couldn’t help but smirk at your choice of nickname given the current circumstances. Man, you had some bigger balls than your boyfriend, that was for damn sure.

“Say it to me a little more gently, sweetheart. Your boyfriend over there got me all riled up, and I jus’ really wanna slash him to bits right now.” He cooed, smirk only then expanding into a wide, toothy grin at both your reaction, and Joel’s.

“Hey! Don’t you fuckin’ talk to her, you—”

“Alright, boys!” You hissed and turned your back so it was fully facing Joel. “Now, this ain’t some contest to see who has the bigger cock, alright? Looks like y’all got off on the wrong foot…clearly.” You stated the obvious.

“Yeah, and I was just passin’ through the area when your boyfriend and I unfortunately crossed paths.” He said gruffly, hackles raised in irritation.

“You’ll have to excuse my boyfriend, he can be trigger happy at times, but within reason. So, let’s start this whole thing over, alright?”

“Think we should just send this freak on his way—”

“JOEL!” You and Tommy whispered loudly in unison.

“Maybe you oughta put a muzzle on that one. Seems like he can’t keep his fucking mouth shut.” Logan snickered.

“Yeah, don’t worry about him, alright? He’ll get muzzled later. So, uh—where exactly are you headed…?” You questioned him warily, realizing that you still didn’t know this mysterious man’s name.

As if he was capable of reading your mind, he could tell by your facial expressions and body language alone that you were wondering what his name was.

“It’s Logan.” He answered your hypothetical question softly, far softer than he had spoken to Joel. “Logan Howlett. That’s my name. And to answer your question, I’m not headed anywhere in particular. Like I said, jus’ was passin’ through the area. Not lookin’ for trouble.” He lowered his fists to his sides, claws finally retracting into his knuckles, the skin healing over instantly.

“Logan.” You repeated his name just as softly. “I understand that you were just passing through, but unfortunately, we can’t just let people pass through without stopping them and questioning them.”

“Yeah, well, don’t think your boyfriend had any intention of just questioning me, sweetheart. S’a good thing that you arrived jus’ in time, cause the way that I see it…” he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and cockily tilted his head to the side, “you wouldn’t have a boyfriend anymore, and woulda been bringing what’s left of him back home in pieces.”

Joel’s muscles went rigid and his eyes darkened, appearing like two black holes instead of the comforting warm brown tone that you were accustomed to. He shook off Tommy’s hand immediately when he went to grab his shoulder to drag him away from the intense brewing situation.

You let out a sigh, rubbing your temples with your gloved fingers. Fucking men and their big dicks and even bigger egos. Un-fucking-believable.

“That is quite enough!” You snapped through the frigid air. “Tommy, please be a doll and escort your brother back to town. I can handle this on my own.”

“Like hell—”

“She’s got this handled, Joel. She’s more than capable. If she ain’t back within the next hour, we’ll come back.” Tommy reassured him with a gentle, yet firm squeeze to his shoulder.

“Fine.” Joel muttered under his breath, pulling his shoulder free again and took a few steps towards you. “See you at home, baby.” He whispered only for your ears to hear and pulled you in for a swift kiss on the lips.

Logan couldn’t help but let out a low wolf whistle at the sight. Fair play. He mused to himself.

“Yeah, see you at home.” You mumbled against his lips, kissing him back and gently shoving him away towards the direction of Tommy and their awaiting horses.

“That’s some guard dog of a boyfriend that you got yourself there, darlin’,” Logan said in amusement, unsheathing his middle claw in Joel’s direction with a condescending and dripping in arrogance grin.

“You have no idea.” You said with a light laugh, turning on your heel to face him again. “So, you’re just passing through the area, right?”

His middle claw retracted slowly with a clink, and he crossed his broad arms against his chest with a tight nod of his head. “Yeah, that’s right.”

“Are you infected?”

“The fuck—infected? I don’t got a goddamn clue what you’re talkin’ about, sweetheart.”

“Y’know, the cordyceps infection? The outbreak happened like…twenty somethin’ years ago, but there’s still infected roaming about.”

“Huh.” He chuckled softly, balancing his weight from one foot to the other. “That would explain the lack of humans that I’ve run into lately. This earth seems pretty damn scarce.”

“This…earth? I don’t think I quite pick up what you’re putting down, Logan.”

He pushed out a deep sigh and slowly dragged a hand over his face. “Don’t even get me started.”

“Alright, and your claws…have you always had them?”

He steeled his expression, lips curving downwards into a subtle frown, and his body language alone was an indication that you crossed an invisible boundary.

“Since I was a kid, yes.” He flexed his hands and stared at them as if they weren’t attached to his body. “Used to be less…metal.”

“And what about the fact that your body can regenerate itself and heal? Is that…part of your mutation?” You gestured to the bullet laying in the snow by his boots, still stained with his blood, and yet there was no sign of a wound in his chest any longer.

“Yeah. I still…feel physical pain like everyone else, but it only lasts for a second at most. Well, depending on the severity of the wound, and how many I sustained.”

A hidden flush rose up his cheeks and he coughed into his shoulder to hide his bashfulness from your prying eyes. He gave you a disgruntled look, nodding in an attempt to be polite, but it came out gruffer than he intended. “The hell is FEDRA?”

It was your turn to feel flustered beneath his stare, and stoic demeanor. You almost didn’t notice the way you spewed out the facts, familiar to you like the back of your own hand.

He inclined his head, but looked back up and narrowed his eyes. “And these…infected? They used to say that about us—I mean, me. What’s the difference?”

You tried not to look so shocked at his confessions of ignorance, and somehow managed to blurt out an explanation.

“Oh, those mushroom head lookin’ freaks? Yeah, I’ve run into them a few times here and there, but they all run away from me.” He shrugged. “What in god's green earth is a rat king?”

Your eyes widened drastically. You had never heard of such a thing. “You’re telling me that the infected run away from you? There’s no way—I mean, that’s a first. The rat king is…never mind. Let’s just hope you don’t meet one.”

“Might have somethin’ to do with the Adamantium is my guess. Gotta say, they’re pretty nasty lookin’.”

“Yeah, no shit.” You snorted under your breath. “Look, Joel is probably gonna kill me, but given the current circumstances…do you want to come back to town with me? You’re a long way from wherever you came from, and well, you look like you could use some rest and a proper meal.” You knew with full intent that offering Logan to come back to Jackson with you was risky for a multitude of reasons, and the biggest reason was knowing that Joel was gonna throw a fucking fit.

“I don’t think your boyfriend would really like that idea, sweetheart.” He said with a sigh, picturing what the next few months would be like in total isolation, with no reprieve or end.

“He’ll give me an earful about it, but morally, I can’t just leave you out here alone. So, are you capable of riding a horse?” You gestured with your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of your horse impatiently pawing at the snow.

“I suppose a bit of hospitality doesn’t sound all that bad. Y’all got liquor? Could use me a stiff drink about now. And yeah, I know a thing or two about riding.”

Oh.

“We got more than just liquor, Logan.” You leaned in with a small grin, “we got a bar, bacon, and endless whiskey that has since been perfected by Joel’s brother, Tommy. He’s the more reasonable one out of the pair.”

“Shit. Are ya serious? Bacon and whiskey?” His mouth was already watering at the phantom taste of liquor on his tongue. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a damn good drink.

“Deadly serious.”

“Well then, lead the way.” He nodded in your horse's direction.

You made the choice to stay in the front of the saddle while Logan situated himself on the back and instinctively wrapped his arms around you. “Sorry.” He whispered when he felt your body tense up in his loose grip. “Old habits.”

“S’alright. I just wasn’t expecting it is all.” You tighten your grip around the leather reins, squeezing your calves against the horse's side followed by a gentle click of your tongue to urge the horse into a trot.

The ride back to Jackson was a comfortably quiet one, and it was obvious that Logan wasn’t much of a small talker, and you were more than okay with that.

The only sound between you and him was the occasional squeak of the saddle, a soft snort from your horse, and the thundering hooves across the almost frozen landscape. You slowed to a lope, reaching behind you blindly into the saddlebag and grabbed a white flag, raising it in the air above your head.

The large, looming gates that protected Jackson from outside forces were suddenly pulled open, revealing the hidden community inside and Logan was completely awestruck.

You looked over your shoulder to see his reaction, and you couldn’t help the smile that slowly crossed over your lips at the sight of this brutish, and conflicted man, almost with tears in his eyes because he was seeing what remained of civilization and humanity at the core.

~~

To say that Joel was pissed when you showed up with that fucking mutant freak outside his front door was an understatement. Joel was livid—furious—charged up with rage the second he locked eyes with Logan.

“You have got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. You brought him home?!” Joel hissed between his teeth, almost trembling from how riled up he was.

Man, imagine if this fucker was unfortunate enough to meet Wade fucking Wilson. Logan thought to himself, shaking his head and chuckling under his breath at the mental image of Joel meeting Deadpool for the first time. What a sight that would be.

“Joel, I know you’re angry, and rightfully so, but he’s not infected, and it felt morally wrong for me to just leave him out there on his own.”

“Oh, so I guess we just fuckin’ take in strays now? Is that it? Y’know, you’re supposed to run these things by me first before you just do something irrationally stupid like this!” He hissed.

“Ellie was a stray, and you took her in. I see no difference in this, Joel.” You attempted to reason with him.

“Who’s Ellie?” Logan chimed in, leaned against the entryway with his arms crossed over his chest like he owned the damn place.

“None of your goddamn business, bud.” Joel snapped back quickly, his words cold and biting, but they had no effect on the Wolverine.

“Ellie is his kid. Well, his adopted daughter. Actually, wolvie, she’d lose her goddamn mind if she got to meet a real superhero like you.”

“Not a chance in hell. This—thing isn’t staying here, and he sure as fuck ain’t meetin’ my kid.”

“Ah, so we’ve gone from mutant freak to thing? I’ll take that as an improvement.” Logan snickered under his breath. “I ain't a hero. Far from it actually, so she would unfortunately be met with disappointment.”

“Okay, well, unfortunately, you aren’t the only one who calls the shots around here, Joel. Now, I promised Logan that I would get him a proper meal and a stiff drink. So, either suck it the fuck up and come with us, or stay here and pout like a little kid.”

Damn.

“I hate when you act like you got the bigger set of balls in the relationship, baby.” Joel grumbled under his breath and was already reaching for his discarded coat that was hanging along the well-loved couch.

“Actually, I do have the bigger set of balls, hun. You just need a little gentle reminder now and then.” You shot him a playful wink and pivoted on your heel just as Logan quickly moved out of the way so you could pass through the doorway.

Joel gave the other man a cold stare as he passed him, one that was returned with an acknowledging nod and a small grin before the door swung shut behind the three of you.

Logan had five straight glasses of whiskey in under 20 minutes, leaving you, Joel, and Tommy equally impressed and a tad concerned considering a normal man would surely be on his ass by now after consuming that much liquor in one sitting, but Logan didn’t even appear to be tipsy at all.

“Wanted to apologize to you fellas for how things went down earlier.” Logan announced over the loud chatter and leaned in over the bartop where Tommy was drying off a glass and Joel was swirling the amber contents of his own glass, lost in thought.

“No hard feelings, man.” Tommy was the first to speak up. “I’m sure she told ya why we acted that way in the first place, yeah? We get all kinds of folks crossin’ our paths on patrol, and as long as they ain’t infected, or appearing to be an immediate threat, we let ‘em in.”

“Well, apparently those who appear to be an immediate threat surpass the rules and get let in anyway.” Joel added, tone dripping in sarcasm over the rim of his glass against his lips.

Logan stiffened, jaw clenching and unclenching and he could feel the concealed claws beneath the skin on his knuckles just begging to be unleashed, but he held them at bay.

“I get it, bub. You’re viewing me as a threat, ain’t that right? I show up in your town as a stranger, an outcast with your girl, and you got your hackles raised like a goddamn guardog. Well, I can assure you that I’m not a threat. Learned the hard way a long time ago to not impose on another man’s relationship.”

“As if I’m gonna trust your word?” Joel scoffed, rolling his shoulders forward before he directly looked over at the other man. “I ain’t gonna win a fight with her on this one, but if I even catch a whiff of you tryin’ somethin’ on her, I’ll kick you out so goddamn fast.”

“Noted. Although, I think I’ll stick around for the time being. If your ego wasn’t so inflated, you would probably realize that keepin’ me around is gonna benefit you and this community.”

“Benefit me how exactly? If you’re talkin’ weapons, we don’t need your assistance there. We’re stacked with enough manpower in case there ever was an attack. No one’s got the balls to do that.”

"Like, adamantium.” Your voice floated sweetly over the two brooding men, as you slid into the empty seat between them. “Not only that, but the infected literally turn the other way when he’s crossed paths with them, and oh, let’s not forget that one of his mutation powers is that he can regenerate and heal himself which means he’s pretty much immortal.”

Joel’s face turned red hot with embarrassment with a twinge of irritation. He downed the rest of his glass and slammed it on the counter. He barked an order at his brother to top his glass off. “Bullshit.”

“Would be a shitty lie.” Logan rasped, sliding his empty glass in Tommy’s direction. “I’m older than you, bub.”

“I think I’ve had enough of fantasyland for one fuckin’ day. Adamantium this, mutation that, fucking knives coming out of your hands? Yeah, sure. Older than me? Fat fuckin’ chance, pal.” Joel scoffed, shaking his head and muttering more profanities under his breath.

“He’s like…at least a century old, Joel. If not older.”

“Who is at least a century old?” Ellie chimed in next to Joel as she leaned over the bartop. “Uncle Tommy, can you pour me a beer, pretty please?”

“Ellie.” Joel grumbled, “shouldn’t you be at home doin’ homework?”

Ah, so that’s the old man’s kid. Fitting.

“Dude, it’s the weekend, and I already finished my homework. Dina and I are goin’ to the movies later, but she’s at home freshening up.” Ellie reached over to mess up his hair, but Joel already knew what she was about to do and gently caught her wrist in his hand before she could even get close to his hair.

“The movies?” Logan's question immediately drew Ellie’s attention as Joel dropped her wrist.

“Never seen your face around here before. You new to town?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Logan shrugged. “You're Joel’s kid then?”

“The one and only.” She beamed proudly while Joel scowled. “Wait, so who is at least a century old? I know we’re not talking about you, dad. But you are getting up there. Is that another gray hair I’m detecting? Soon you’re gonna be wearing diapers—” her playful rambling was cut off by Joel’s sharp and scolding tone cutting through the air like a sharpened knife.

“ELLIE!” He half yelled, cheeks inflamed and face turning and even brighter shade of red.

“I’m only kidding! Well, half kidding! One day you will be wearing diapers, old man.”

Logan laughed, a full on, belly-ache inducing laugh where the corner of his eyes crinkled and his smile lines appeared. “Holy shit. Your kid’s a riot!”

“I’ve been telling him that forever, and he just won’t admit it!” She giggled and gently wrapped her arm around Joel’s shoulder to give him a half hug to which he begrudgingly hugged her back, trying to hide his small grin from being noticed.

“You remind me a lot of…well, an old friend of sorts.” Logan looked down.

Ellie finally found her chance to ruffle Joel’s and seized it before he could stop her. “What was the name of your friend? I’m assuming he’s dead, so rest in peace.”

“Ellie!” Joel softly scolded her, “it’s rude to assume that someone died—”

“Wade Wilson.” Logan said softly, staring down at his empty glass with a sigh.

Ellie’s eyes expanded, blown wide in shock and utter disbelief. She was a comic book nerd, and well—a nerd in general. Perhaps it was just sheer coincidence that this stranger knew a Wade Wilson. Surely, it couldn’t be the Wade Wilson that she immediately was thinking of, right?

“Holy fuck. Please don’t crush my dreams and tell me that I’m wrong, but are you talking about the Wade Wilson as in Deadpool? Dude—are you an Avenger?” Ellie leaned over the bartop in Logan’s direction, voice low in a hushed whisper.

“Kid, I’m the furthest thing from an Avenger.” He said quietly, sinking his weight back against the bartop stool. “But I did know Wade pretty well. The fucker is probably alive, somewhere. He’s like a cockroach that you can never kill.”

“Okay, but if you’re not an Avenger…then what are you?”

“I was an X-Man at one point, but they’re all dead now—because of me.”

“Oh my god, are you—you’re the Wolverine, aren’t you? What in the fuck are you doing here? Is this real life? Someone pinch me right now, because there is no way that Logan fucking Howlett is here in the flesh! Dude, can you show me your claws?!” Ellie asked excitedly and it was Joel’s job to rein her in a bit.

“Alright, kiddo. That’s enough questions, alright? Don’t wanna go and overwhelm him. He can show you his…claws another time. Last thing we want is all these people freaking out and screaming bloody murder, right?” Joel said softly to her in his usual dad tone.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right. Sorry about that, Logan. I’m just like—a huge fan of you and the comics. I actually still can’t wrap my head around the fact that this is real life. Anyway, I’ll get out of your hair. Hope you stick around!” She said sincerely before swiping up her glass of beer that was waiting for her and walked away to a different section of the crowded bar.

“Sorry about my kid. She is a huge fan, and definitely meant no harm by freaking out like that. I hope she wasn’t too invasive.”

“S’alright. There’s no harm done.” Logan reassured him.

Joel tapped his knuckles along the bartop, looking over at his brother first who was now at the other end of the bartop where his wife Maria was sitting. And then he looked at you and finally Logan. “Look, we got off on the wrong foot earlier today and I’m sorry about that. If you don’t got nowhere to go, you should consider staying in town. Sounds like you could be useful, like you said, and my kid would probably kill me if I kicked the Wolverine out for no good reason.”

“I don’t wanna impose, I swear. My plan was to just have a bite to eat and a few drinks and then I’ll be on my way.”

“Logan.” You finally spoke, “you should stay. There’s plenty of room for you here. We’ll have to figure out living arrangements, but in the meantime, you can sleep on our couch?”

The Wolverine’s warm hazel eyes slowly flitted over to you, a soft smile gracing his face before he glanced over at your boyfriend whose jaw was beginning to tick, again.

“Only if your guard dog is alright with that arrangement, sweetheart.”

Joel took a deep breath and released the built up tension that he felt in his shoulders. “The couch is all yours, Logan. We’ll get you out on patrol starting next week. You’ll fit right in.”

And boy, did he fit in.

~~

Logan did more than just fit in, he added a new welcoming dynamic to Jackson and he was an absolute hit with the kids both old and young. (He may or may not have smoked weed with Ellie, Dina and Jesse one night, but no one will ever know the truth)

He looked forward to being on patrol with Joel and Tommy every single day, (sometimes in the evenings). Having a purpose in his life again made him feel complete, and there was that extra perk of getting to kill people—bad guys, every now and then. Logan took numerous bullets for both Miller brothers and he felt this swelling sense of pride in his heart when Joel would go out of his way to tell him that he did a good job out there and sometimes there was even a firm, lingering pat on his shoulder followed by a, thanks for keeping the town safe, Logan. Don’t know what I’d do without ya.

Logan liked to hear those words from Joel’s mouth more than he was willing to admit. Almost as much as he liked coming home to you at the end of the very long and grueling day. Despite his promise to Joel that he wouldn’t try anything on you, he felt that there was nothing wrong with developing a harmless crush on both of his roommates, right?

Well, lucky for the Wolverine, you were beginning to fall down that rabbit hole, too. Especially when Logan would strut around the house shirtless in the mornings while you were getting ready for your day at the barn, ripped abs, resembling glossy freshly baked rolls were on full display paired with that knee-weakening smile that appeared over the rim of his steaming mug of coffee. He’d even accompany you to the barn, spending time with you and the horses till he would saddle up for patrol.

“Joel.” You whispered through the darkness in your shared bedroom.

“This better be goddamn important.” He grumbled tiredly, rolling over so he was facing you and draped his arm across your bare waist, tugging you into his chest so he could pepper your face with affectionate, sleepy kisses. “Thought you said you were too tired for round three, baby.” He drawled against your ear, playfully nipping at the lobe with his teeth.

“Baby, I promise you it’s super important.” You pressed a kiss to the sliver of exposed skin on his neck, throwing your thigh over his hip so if he wanted to, he could slip right into your silky, enticing warmth with ease.

“Mmm. Alright then. Spit it out. What’s on your mind, pretty girl.” He hummed against your skin, rolling his hips languidly into yours, a small grunt slipped past his lips when the head of his cock brushed through your slick folds and dragged upwards across your still sensitive clit.

“Y—you have to promise that you won’t get mad at me, okay?” You gasped softly, biting down on the juncture where his jaw met his neck.

“Baby, if you don’t fuckin’ spit it out right now, I’ll just have to fuck it out of ya.” He said through gritted teeth, reaching between your bodies with his freehand so he could grasp the base of his cock with ease and slowly feed himself into your warm, wet, enveloping walls with zero resistance.

“I want to fuck Logan.” You finally spit it out, waiting for your partner to scold you, but he did the complete opposite and bucked his hips against yours so he was completely bottomed out, stretching you open the same way he did a couple hours ago. “Yeah.” He gruffed out, finally finding your lips in a searing kiss, “know you do.”

Just down the stairs, lounged out on the couch with a glass of whiskey in one hand and tv remote in the other, Logan was trying his best to distract his brain from what he was hearing upstairs (damn his heightened sense of hearing). For the past 20 minutes he had been listening to you and Joel getting it on, and now he was dealing with a small problem—a rather large problem, actually. That problem being that the crotch section of his jeans were becoming unbearably tight, and even after he popped the button and yanked the zipper down, that wasn’t enough relief.

He let out a frustrated growl, throwing his head back against the couch and brought his freehand up to his forehead, rubbing his temples and squeezed his eyes shut. He was fighting an internal battle of whether he was going to act like a nasty dog and jerk himself off, or fight the urge all together. He fumbled with the remote, turning the tv up to full volume thinking that it would drown your sweet little noises out, and Joel’s manly grunts, but it did jack all and he finally gave in and gently palmed himself through his jeans.

That’s when he heard your voice as clear as day.

I want to fuck Logan

That’s all it took for the last shred of his resistance to fall away at the same rate that he had pulled his cock free, squeezing it firmly in his fist before he pulled his hand back, splitting a glob of saliva onto it and wrapped it back around the base of his cock.

~~

You let out a surprised squeak when Joel bucked his hips against yours, burying himself completely in your warm cunt. You scrambled to find something to grab onto, sinking your nails into his strong biceps when he withdrew his hips halfway before thrusting them forward again.

“Known for awhile that you want to fuck him, baby. Neither of you are great at hiding it either. You should see the way he drinks in your appearance the minute you walk into the goddamn room.” He mumbled against your lips, caging you in his arms when he began to pick up a steady rhythm, listening to the soft squelch of your pussy sucking him in further with each powerful thrust. “Thought about tellin’ Logan that he should just make a move, but I wanted to discuss it with you first.”

“Oh, fuck.” You moaned freely, lips falling away from the kiss briefly before finding one another again like two magnets. “So, you’re okay with it then?”

“Fuck yeah, I am. But under one condition.” He stilled his hips, reaching his freehand back down between your connected bodies so he could play with your clit at his leisure.

Your body twitched in his arms from the sudden stimulation and that familiar tingling feeling that was blooming deep in the pit of your stomach as your walls clenched tightly around him, squeezing his cock like a vice. “What’s the condition?”

“I get to watch him fuck you. If y’all wanna get acquainted and fool around beforehand, that’s fine with me, but I get to watch him fuck you.” He rasped and in one swift movement, he maneuvered you onto his lap, cock still buried deep inside of you. The kiss was broken briefly so that he could gaze up at you through hooded eyes. “And if you’re lucky, maybe I’ll even wanna join in. Jus’ am curious to see how well you take another man’s cock, baby. M’sure Logan is gonna be thrilled.” He grabbed a handful of your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh with his thick fingers. “The way I see it, It’s a win-win situation for everyone involved.” He let out a sharp breath when you instinctively rolled your hips against his, foreheads pressed tightly together.

“I fucking love you so much, Joel.” You whispered against his lips, carding your fingers through his hair and tugged on the roots gently so his head was tilted back slightly. You could feel his smirk form in the sloppy kiss, and the way he tugged you closer, chests pressed together.

“I love you too, baby. Jus’ wanna see my girl happy s’all. And if fucking the goddamn Wolverine makes you happy, then so be it.”

Logan could hear every squeak from the old mattress, the wooden frame smacking the wall in sync with the heavy weight of Joel’s thrusts, and he could even hear the wet, squelch of your pussy, and skin slapping on skin. The mental images he created in his mind spurred his wrist to move faster, jerking his cock like a horny teenager that had stumbled across the adult magazine section in a grocery store for the first time.

He gnawed on his lower lip till it began to bleed and then healed over immediately after. His lashes fluttered, muscles growing taught and veins bulging the closer he got to cumming in his fist. He bit down on the back of his hand, hard enough to draw blood, and the stinging pain mixed with pleasure sent him right over the edge with stars dotting his vision before he slumped back against the couch, cock spent and growing soft.

“The fucker probably can’t wait to bury his face between your thighs, inhale your scent and eat your sweet pussy like a man starved. Bet it’s been so fuckin’ long for him, that he’ll cream his pants the second he even catches a sliver of your skin.”

“Well, bub, you got one thing right, that’s for damn sure. I can’t wait to bury my face between your girl's thighs and eat her sweet pussy like a man starved.” Logan chuckled to himself, letting out a content sigh as he glanced down at the mess of his release coating his hand, and his happy trail.

He reached over the coffee table for his almost abandoned glass of whiskey and quickly downed the rest before snatching up one of the cigars Joel had so kindly gotten for him and a box of matches. And just as he lit the end of the cigar, and kicked his feet up on the coffee table so he could get more comfortable, his ears were blessed with the high pitched sounds of you orgasming. “Fuck.” He nearly groaned, cock twitching pathetically at the pornographic sound you emitted.

~~

The sun had not even begun to rise in the sky, but there was a chill in the air, a telling sign that fall was on the horizon and the changing of seasons. The early morning light was softer now compared to the summer months, and bathed Joel’s exposed back in a warm, golden glow.

You curled your body around his, hugging him like a koala when he went to untangle his legs from your own. He let out a throaty chuckle, raspy and sticky with prior slumber when you tighten your grip around him.

He blindly reached behind, finding your bare thigh and gave it an affectionate squeeze and gentle pat with his calloused palm. “C’mon, baby.” He rasped, “gotta pee, and then I’m gonna go find Tommy’n get an early start.”

“Stay in bed.”

“S’temptin.’” he mused, rolling over with a soft grunt so he was facing you finally.

“It’s fucking freezing in here, Joel. You’re my personal heater, and I forbid you from leaving.”

“Mmm.” He nuzzled his face against your pulse point, inhaling your familiar scent with a content sigh. “Could always ask Logan to take my place…” He trails off.

“Are you trying to make me soaking wet right now?” You teased.

You could feel him grinning against your skin as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss at the juncture where your jaw met your neck. “Why? Is it working?”

“Why don’t you find out?” You said coyly, finding his hand to slowly drag it between your bare thighs, but he was acting stubborn; the gall he had.

“No can do, my little minx.” He retracted his touch from you all together, finding an opening to slip out of your warm embrace and swung his legs over the side of the bed before pushing himself up. You could hear a faint crack in his lower back the moment he stretched his arms above his head, and he cheekily pivoted his hips to the side just so you could enjoy the little show and dreamily watch the way that his heavy cock swung between his thighs.

Letting out a groan that was nothing short of frustrating, you rolled over onto your stomach, kicking your legs up behind your head languidly with your chin propped in your palms. “Can’t believe you’re gonna choose your brother over me, and my drooling pussy, Joel.” You said with a noticeable pout.

He bent down, grabbing ahold of his discarded shirt from the night before and pulled it over his head and shoulders, obstructing your view of his broad chest and soft, kissable tummy. “You and your droolin’ pussy will live, sweetheart.” He took a few steps towards the bed, leaning down to brush his lips against yours in a sweet peck.

“Actually, I don’t think we will. I think we’re both gonna die a truly excruciating death if you don’t be a man and take care of the mess I’m making in your sheets.” You mumbled against his lips, attempting to deepen the kiss further, but he swiftly pulled back, brows crinkled in amusement as he observed your pout of frustration, and that yearning look glossed over in your eyes before his gaze traveled down the curve of your spine and between your thighs.

He chuckled in amusement when you arch your back and spread your legs further just so he could see how swollen and puffy your pussy looked from this angle, dripping with need, desperate to be played with, to be filled.

“Put your pussy away, you preening slut.” He said teasingly, not meaning it in an overtly degrading way, and simply just a jest; all in good fun.

“Fiiine.” You sighed in defeat, dropping your weight from your elbows and plopped down, face first into his pillow dramatically.

“Poor baby.” He cooed and leaned down, pressing his lips to the side of your head. “I’ll let Logan know that you and your needy little pussy will be waiting for him.”

“Go piss already, old man.” You grumbled into the pillow.

“Goin’ straight for the jugular, huh?” He chuckled and grabbed the end of the sheet, draping it over you gently before he pivoted on his heel and padded over to the attached bathroom.

~~

Logan was still passed out on the couch when Joel crept downstairs, fully dressed now. There was the faint stench of tobacco, musk, and oh—

Joel didn’t mean to look, he truly didn’t—but it was staring him right in the fucking face, and immediately sent a hot, red flush rising up his cheeks and sweat began to pool at the nape of his neck.

Logan stirred in his heavy slumber, one arm propping up behind his head as a makeshift pillow, bicep muscles bulging even in a relaxed state. His freehand slowly drifted southwards, brushing against the protruding vein on his lower abdomen and trailed right down to the soft, dark, enticing hair on his happy trail.

“I’m fuckin’ losin’ it, I swear.” Joel muttered to himself, scraping his own hand down his face before he quickly made a departure for the kitchen.

He was careful to be quiet, as he didn’t want to disturb the other man while he prepared himself a steaming mug of coffee, one of his many guilty pleasures that he never believed he would get to indulge in again.

cue me breaking the 4th wall. I know what you’re all thinking. Gianna, are Joel and Logan going to fuck yet? No, my lovely readers, I’m going to continue to edge you just a little more 🙂‍↕️ (and by a little more I mean you have to wait till chapter three 😔 but don’t worry! The sexual tension is there, and it’s simmering, but first, some angst!

P.S. if you read this in Deadpool’s voice, I fucking love u and we’re gonna make out now.

Okay, that’s all, folks! Back to the gay pining!

The Wolverine began to mumble in his sleep, not just fragmented words, but names—names of those he once knew, those he lost. The nightmares were never-ending, a constant reminder of the past that could never be undone. Even after teaming up with Wade, and saving the world, Logan still would think about the X-Men. That’s the funny thing about trauma, it never actually goes away, you just learn how to mask it as time goes on.

“Howlett?” Joel hesitantly said from the threshold of the kitchen, footsteps padding towards the living room.

Logan shot up from the couch, with an animalistic yell emitting from his throat. His eyes were wide, sweat pooled down his bare chest and his claws unsheathed with that familiar metal swoosh. He blinked a rapidly, registering where he was before he fell back against the couch and retracted his claws as he caught his breath.

“Logan?…Y’alright in there?”

Fuck.

“Jus’ fine, Miller. Sorry for startling you.” Logan muttered, voice raspy with sleep. It dawned upon him then that last night, after he—well, got himself off, he passed out before he had a chance to tuck his cock back into his jeans.

Guy must really fuckin’ think I’m an animal.

“Are ya decent?”

So, he did see? Fuck.

“Jus’ a minute.”

Joel waited till he heard the sound of a zipper being pulled up, and the metallic clink of a belt before he made his presence known, leaning against the opening of the kitchen with two mugs of coffee now.

He observes the other man silently, watching as he slowly sits up, rubbing the heels of his palms against his eyes, taking a deep lungful of air before exhaling.

“You’re shaking.” Joel states the obvious and hesitantly approaches the couch, sitting down against the side of it.

Thanks, captain obvious.” Logan snorts under his breath, fighting the urge to grin at the other man’s obvious hesitation.

“Those things have a mind of their own, huh?” Joel refers to the metal claws that were once protruding out of Logan’s knuckles.

“Somethin’ like that.” He eyes the second mug of coffee before finally meeting Joel’s gaze. “That for me?”

“What? Oh—the coffee.” Joel feels a flush creeping on as he holds the mug of coffee towards Logan almost as a peace offering. “Yeah.”

Logan reaches for the mug, meeting Joel’s hand halfway before taking it from him. Their fingers brush, and he tries to not notice how fast Joel moves to retract his hand.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Joel’s response is unintentionally gruff sounding. He sighs, taking a sip from his own mug.

“Do you have them often?”

The Wolverine raises a brow, confusion etched over his face. “What?”

“The nightmares.” Joel clarifies, “do you have them often?”

“Every night.” Logan said just above a whisper. His eyes cast downwards towards the mug in his hands, an unreadable expression crosses his face.

“Well, we got somethin’ in common after all.”

Logan looks up in surprise, studying the other man for a moment. He wants to ask questions, but he doesn’t want to invade Joel’s privacy or pry where he’s not wanted, let alone welcomed.

“Sun ain’t even up yet, bub. Where ya off to?”

“Patrol with Tommy, once I find him. Wanna get an early start.”

Logan doesn’t even think twice before he starts to swing his legs over the side of the couch to stand up, but he’s stopped in his tracks when he feels a warm, calloused palm press down against his bare chest. The movement shocks both men, and the Wolverine falls into submission, sinking back down against the couch pillows that were already crushed under his weight.

“You’ve done well out there, Howlett. Take the day off, and keep my girl company instead.”

Don’t move your hand, bub. Keep it right there. Is what Logan really wants to say.

“Y’sure, Miller?” He tests the waters for any possible ulterior motive that Joel may have.

Much to Logan’s disappointment, Joel slowly removes his hand from his chest, bringing it down to his side, fingers flexing and then curling into a fist as if he’s in disbelief over what he just did.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Between you and me, there ain’t no hidin’ your attraction to her. And well—seems like she’s takin’ a liking to you as well.” Joel said with a light chuckle, bringing his mug back up to his lips and took a quick sip. “And seeing as you won’t grow a pair and jus’ make a move, I figured I’d give you my permission.”

“I ain’t worthy of her, Joel. That’s your girl. If I’ve overstepped—”

“Yeah?” Joel leaned in, close enough that from this angle, Logan could make out every little detail on the other man’s face. “Guess you don’t wanna hear how she’s upstairs right now, leakin’ all over my goddamn sheets like a bitch in heat, huh?”

“And you want me…to—take care of it?” He chooses his words carefully.

“I know you ain’t all that innocent, Logan. You don’t gotta hide that shit from me. You want her? She’s all yours. But, a word of advice, if I may. Let her come to you. She enjoys the chase more than she likes to be chased. Play coy with her. That one lives for a good fuckin’ game of cat and mouse.”

“And this isn’t a trap? Yeah, of course I want your girl. I’d be a goddamn fool if I didn’t.”

“It ain’t a trap. I’m appeasing to both sides, Logan. My only condition is that you can’t fuck her—not yet, at least. I want to be there to watch. Everything else, however, is on the table, so do with that as you will.” He finished off his coffee and pushed himself off the side of the couch. Before the Wolverine could even respond, he had one last thing to say before he would take his leave.

“Oh, and Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll know if you fucked her without me.”

My panties just disappeared…how did that happen? AND my rose toy just flew into my hand like Thors hammer! Weird…

~~

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[cheriladycl01]

My home country - Pierre Gasly x IcelandicOlympicIceHockey! Reader

Plot: Your boyfriend Pierre watches on as you bring home Gold for team Iceland before you show him around the waterfalls and geysers your country is known for!

A/N: Having been to Iceland, this one was really fun to write as I've done all the things mentioned!

You’d just won gold and we’re on a complete high, your boyfriend being there to celebrate you and your teams win. It was a thrilling feeling having the Gold Medal placed around your neck and hugging all of your team mates who'd been a part of the journey.

You had all worked insanely hard and you'd cried once you realized you won.

The celebrations that night were crazy, you and Pierre spent the whole night in the club with all your friends and some of your family. There were also randoms there who were congratulating you and buying you drinks the whole night - much to Pierre's annoyance as they were mostly men.

But once they offered him a drink too after recognizing him, he didn't feel as peeved.

They day after and you both woke up with the worst hangover imaginable. You laid in bed in the fancy 5 star hotel you were set up in, both complaining about the headache you both had before you sulked down the stairs for the breakfast buffet.

You guys filled yourself on all the greasiest food in attempt to get rid of the hangover.

"Fuck Elskan. I feel awful" you say in Icelandic and Pierre looks at you as if you've grown two heads, not understanding anything but the pet name you use often for him.

"Babe, English or French please... I'm dying here!" he groans.

"Sorry, i revert back when I'm tired!" you smile before taking his hand.

"We have a busy day today!" you smile, excited for the plan you guys have.

"Nooooooo, please I just need a day in bed!" he complains looking over at you.

"You don't want to see my country?" you say with a sad voice, knowing he did as he'd been asking for ages for you to take him across Iceland and show him all the things you did growing up.

"I do!" he whines looking over at you.

"I just - cant we do that tomorrow?" he asks looking over you his sleepy eyes telling you he was struggling a little bit more than he was letting on.

"The fresh air will do you good, come on lets go get ready! It's cold so we need to wrap up warm" you advise grabbing his hand and dragging him out the restaurant.

You both change into warm clothes and waterproof having a little rucksack with you each. You guys had a busy day where you'd be hiking up a glacier and seeing some of the best waterfalls Iceland had to offer before going to swim in the geothermal spa called the Blue Lagoon to round up your day.

"The guys said we might even get to see the northern lights tonight!" you grin excitedly.

"Really?" Pierre asks knowing you'd seen them multiple times in your lifetime but it was something you still got pretty excited about.

You guys were on the tour bus and went straight to the glaciers, you had grippy shoes on, knowing what Iceland was like in the winter but Pierre didn't exactly think that through and when you looked back to where he was, really behind the rest of the group he looked like Bambi.

You couldn't help but laugh at him.

"Pierre, come on here!" you say handing him the walking stick you'd been using. He thanked you before you helped him up, holding one of his hands to try and keep him stable.

You get to the top and Pierre has a red face and watering eyes from the wind at the top unlike you wearing googles and a bandana to cover your mouth and neck to keep the warmth in.

"Why didn't you prepare me better!" he groans looking around at everyone else.

"I told you what to bring!" you giggle. You then start to make the decent down the glacier seeing the top of the gushing waterfall.

"I didn't expect it to be so loud!" Pierre shouts over the really loud water. All you could do was laugh at him before the tour guide started to talk to you in Icelandic about what was coming up next on the tour. Pierre awkwardly waited off to one side not knowing what to do.

"You are really going to enjoy the next bit!" you smile taking his hand and pull him into a searing kiss. His lips were a little chapped from the cold but you didn't mind.

You guys made the drive to the blue lagoon. You split in the changing rooms and Pierre was shocked to be greeted by multiple naked men. It was normal for you and when you met him at the entrance into the water he looked almost traumatised.

"Sorry I should have warned you about what you would have walked into!" you giggle before he shakes his trying to get rid of the images burned into his brain.

You both swim around, going to grab the face scrub at the bar to plaster over you face. You loved coming to the geothermal spa. The sensation of dipping right under the water, feeling the heat warm up your skin before standing up and having the wind whip around your wet skin was a sensation like no other.

"This is very romantic" Pierre smiles, holding you as you both float around clinging to each other.

"Mmmmm I'm glad we've done this. I've been missing home far to much!" you sigh. You'd made the decision to move with Pierre, as it made sense considering he was closer to Alpine and he was travelling for most of the year.

"I'm just scared for tomorrow!" he sighs, knowing it was a day he'd been expecting for a while but it didn't feel real.

"I've told you so many times, my parents will love you. We should have seen them earlier!" you grin, pulling him in for a kiss as you wrap your legs around his waist.

"God I love you!" he exclaims twirling you round in the water.

y/user

Liked by pierregasly and charlesleclerc

y/user: Just brought home gold for my beautiful country! Iceland 🇮🇸 you are beautiful and I loved showing my boyfriend round!

Tagged One Person

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pierregasly: I loved spending time with you and congrats on your win ma cherie 🍒

-> y/user: I love you very much

->pierregasly: I love you too 🫶🏼❤️

alpinef1team: Congrats on the win Y/N!

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Showing kærastinn minn around 🇮🇸

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[zepskies]

So, how would Ben react if he and the reader went clothes-shopping for him and he overhears the saleswomen talking to themselves about how insanely hot he was (and how they’d climb him like a tree, because hello!) While he’s flattered, he sees the reader overhearing them, and she’s visibly annoyed/upset by it? Up to you if she calls them out on it, or spirals and says nothing, or whatever!

Ooooh thank you for this request, my friend!! ❤️❤️

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female Reader Word Count: 1,100 Warnings: 18+ only! A little smutty towards the end. 😘

Imagine: Getting jealous over this man. 💚

"My clothes are fine," Ben is still insisting, even as you hold up a crisp, black buttoned-down shirt up to his chest in scrutiny.

"You need more stuff in this decade, baby," you tell him. You just think he's taking issue with you picking things out for him.

He doesn't often like to relinquish control, but he's tacitly agreed that you just have a better sense of what's fashionable now. He doesn't mind standing out, but he doesn't want to look out of place either.

And as much as he'd never admit it, he wants to look good.

So you and Ben have been at the mall browsing for the past hour. Express for Men has some interesting finds; you already have a large pile of shirts, jackets, pants, and jeans set aside for him to try on.

Ben has strong opinions, especially on pants. He blatantly refuses skinny jeans, for which you begrudgingly concede. You have to pick your battles with your boyfriend, and this one's not the hill to die on, you think.

So you put down the tight pants in favor of some tasteful dark wash jeans. He eyes this pair also with wariness. "Why the fuck do they have holes in 'em?" he asks.

You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. "They're ripped jeans."

"On purpose?" he asks.

Oh lord. "Yes, Ben. They're distressed."

"Christ on a cross, so am I. This is what goes for fashion nowadays?"

God, give me fucking strength, you think. But you still smile. "You're gonna look good, I promise you."

So Ben gathers the pile you've created for him, and with a deep sigh, he heads over to the dressing room. There are two saleswomen stationed there. One visibly breathes in at the sight of him as she subtly taps the other one on the hip. Both greet him with bright eyes and smiles. "Hi there! Need a room?" the first one asks.

"Yeah," Ben nods, and she dutifully lets him into the biggest one. It has a cushioned bench and plenty of hooks on the wall for hanging the shirts and pants.

"Need any help laying these out?" she asks. He shakes his head. "No. I'm good, sweetheart."

She giggles a bit, like he's said something funny. "Okay! Well just let me know if you need any help. Like a different size, different color, if you need a belt, or anything like that."

Ben spots her blush and can't help but smile at her indulgently. "Sure." He has no intention of taking her up on her "help," but he knows the effect he has on women. Once she leaves, he closes the dressing room door and starts trying things on.

He's surprised to find he actually likes a lot of what you picked out for him. But then his superior hearing picks up what the women out front are whispering to each other in excitement.

"Oh my God, it's a criminal offense to have that jawline," says the one who helped him. "And that beard? Cut to perfection."

Ben smirks, both in amusement and with a well of pride welling in his chest. Still got it, fuckers.

The other scoffs. "Honey, I'd climb that man like a goddamn tree."

They snicker together, trying and failing to be quiet. "He looks so familiar though, I swear to God."

"Psh. Maybe in your dreams," one teases. The other hums. "Well, he'll definitely be making an appearance tonight...maybe when I'm still awake." Ben raises a brow at that.

"Hmm, looks like he's got a girlfriend though. She picked out all that stuff for him."

He then perks up a bit at the mention of you.

"Ehh, come on. She's gotta be a sister or something. Look at her."

"Aww, don't do that. She's cute."

"Cute doesn't bag a man like that." The other one chortles in response.

Ben frowns. He knew women were petty, but this takes the fucking cake. You're a New York "10," even in your old sweatpants and a bare face.

"What-fucking-ever, bitch. I'm gonna slip him my number. See if he needs any further assistance." Cue more obnoxious giggling.

The other one chimes in. "Ooh, you're bad. But I'm here for it. Get your man, girl."

"Excuse me." Oh, shit. Ben's brows raise of their own accord. That was your voice.

"Yes," one of the saleswomen greets you more professionally.

"I just want to check on how my boyfriend's doing. He's in that room, right?" you ask. Ben hears your tone though. It's clipped, direct, and intentional. He knows then: you definitely heard those twittering broads.

"Yes, right back there," one of the women directs you.

"Thank you," you reply flatly.

Ben smirks as he hears your brusque steps approaching. He checks himself out in the mirror real quick (the white shirt and black pants are simple, but they go well with the black jacket, he thinks). Then he unlocks the door and opens it, right as you were about to knock.

You blink up at him with surprise, and the remnants of a frown.

He leans against the doorframe, looking down at you with a charming smile. "Hey there, beautiful."

Your lips start to form a smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. "Hey." You take in his current outfit with interest and approval. "Ooh, I like this. You look good...how do you feel in it?"

"Good," Ben says, but his eyes are focused on you. "Come 'ere."

He takes you by surprise when his hand guides you inside the dressing room by the waist. He locks it behind you. You look up at him in askance. He grasps your chin and tilts your face up to him.

"What's the matter?" he asks knowingly.

You raise a brow at him, shaking your head. "Nothing. Come on, did you try on this other stuff?"

Ben keeps a stubborn grip on your chin, so you can't turn away from him. "Don't tell me you're letting those maneating bimbos get to you."

Your eyes go wide and you raise a finger to your lips, reminding him to keep it quiet, but he doesn't give two fucks about that. He sits down on the soft bench and pulls you down with him. You sit across his lap and give him a rueful smile, stroking his cheek.

"I'll let you in on a little secret though," Ben says. Your expression crosses between amusement and intrigue. He leans in close your ear. "Jealousy looks fucking hot on you."

You guffaw in response, playfully smacking his arm.

"Hey, easy on the jacket," he smirks, but he claims you with a kiss. His fingers go to the button on your jeans, undoing it and slowly, torturously, guiding down the zipper. You suck in a breath.

"Ben, we can't," you say. But you're already moaning softly in his ear when his thick fingers begin to rub your pussy through your underwear. You blush at the naughtiness of this, even though the thought just turns you on even more.

He soon moves your panties aside to find your wet, soft heat.

You grip his hair tight, trying to bite your lip against a gasp as his fingers enter you, and begin to pulse inside. Your lower belly coils with heat, especially when his thumb finds your clit.

"We're paying customers," he says, with a deepening smirk. "We can do whatever we damn well please."

At the moment, you find it hard to argue with his logic.

Soldier Boy Masterlist

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[billthedrake]

BIRD IN THE HAND (PART TWO)

John pulled Cole's body closer. The evening had been perfect. John had made sure it was perfect. He'd figured out the jocky dude didn't seem as impressed by the big-money steak houses John had taken him to on their first dates, even though Cole pretended he did. So he booked an Italian bistro place. More buzzy but also romantic. They'd split a bottle of wine, the conversation flowed, they got dessert.

The Congressional Bro was cute as fuck. Cuter than cute. And funny. It had taken the FBI agent a couple of months to get into Cole's offbeat humor, but now he couldn't get enough. John knew he was a very attractive man, but he felt lucky to be out with this guy.

Cole's hand felt up John's chest as they reclined on his sofa, shoes off but otherwise still in their date-night clothes. Cole Walker almost regretted the way the federal agent's quarter-zip sweater and checked button-down hid that magnificent body. And John had one hell of a body.

"Mmmm... you feel nice, buddy," the 47-year-old agent said was he pulled back and took in the cute face of his date. His hands ran up and down Cole's back. He'd only known the guy for a year now but in that time Cole had packed on some more muscle. Nothing too big, but the dude felt heavier lying on top of him now.

"Yeah," Cole muttered. He had almost a frat-bro way of talking when he wasn't in professional mode. He kept it some in check around older men, too, for some reason, but it was coming out now. A contrast to his deep resonant voice. "I missed this, man."

John had been rehearsing what he'd say in his head. He wanted the timing to be right, and this felt as right a time as any. "I know I've not always been there for you, Cole," he said.

That got a surprise quiet from the younger dude. "I've never put any expectations on you," he said softly.

That made John Ricciardi feel guilty. "Maybe you should have," he blurted. "I mean... you deserve a guy who's a lot less standoffish. You're always there when I want you, whenever I call... I know it's gotta go the other way too."

"Okay," Cole muttered. His heard was pounding heavy now. After his time seeing Paul on Wednesday, he's been mulling over a lot before deciding to kick the can down the road. Turns out John wasn't gonna let him.

"So... my last name is Ricciardi," John said. "But you knew that already."

"He told you," Cole replied in a deep blush. He felt mortified to know that both John and Paul knew that Cole had slept with both brothers, repeatedly. But after a dinner date like just now, clearly John wasn't going through the motions. He decided to hear the man out.

John nodded, his eyes a little impish in their gaze. Even if Paul had a certain authoritative sexiness as an advantage of his younger brother, John had insanely smoldering looks, with green-gray eyes that seemed to suck Cole in. And a better, fitter body, even.

"He told me. I won't lie, I've always had this competitive thing with my older brother. I guess my ego was bruised a little."

"Oh John," Cole started in, but the man interrupted him.

"It's OK, buddy. Lesson learned on my end. I didn't tell you what you mean to me, because I couldn't admit it myself. That's on me."

Cole gulped.

John forced a smile and patted the ex-jock's rump. "I know I spoiled the mood, but I was hoping we'd make it back to the bedroom. The offer still stands for you to stay over if you want."

"For real?" Cole had gone into this date expecting a consolation prize, but now that he was face to face with John Ricciardi, in his arms, he couldn't imagine not see this as his boyfriend.

"I won't blame you if you wanna split." John's eyes were vulnerable and a little moist.

Cole's heart raced as he leaned in, and their lips met. There was that brief, taboo thrill that he'd been with two Ricciardi brothers. He'd spent a day or two processing that knowledge, but now, it turned him on. The way he could recognize the men were similar in a lot of ways, similar in personality even if their approach to sex was very different.

John was the better kisser and the way the law man's tongue danced just inside of Cole's mouth gave the younger man a crazy hardon. As they got deeper into the kiss the ex-jock gripped John's arms through the sweater, feeling the meaty biceps and tris. OF the two Ricciardi brothers, John was even more muscular and had incredibly pumped guns.

The older man could read the hunger in Cole's eyes when they parted. "I wanna be inside you, buddy.... now," he growled.

"Right here?" Cole asked with a naughty grin.

"I was thinking..." John started to clarify things but stopped himself. "Hell, we've never done that." The more he thought it over the more fun the idea seemed. Fucking this hottie in every room of his condo. His face got a playful leer on it. "Why don't you go fetch the lube?"

John pawed his crotch as he watched the young stud bound up excitedly. Cole was technically in his mid-20s now but still had that aura of a Georgetown soccer player. The kind of jock type John would jerk off to regularly. Before the apps, before Cole. He'd still masturbate to relieve the pent up need sometimes, but he enjoyed saving his nut for this young man. It just made the sex more powerful and enabled John to go more than one round if Cole was up for it. He usually was.

The kid practically strutted back into the room. Gone were his jeans and he wore only his button-up shirt, the tails of which opened with each step to show that long jock bone. In his hand was the bottle of lube, which he tossed to John.

"I went ahead and applied some back there," Cole admitted. "I didn't think that you might want to rim first..."

John smirked. He would have been OK with it he guessed, but mostly he was turned on by the idea that Cole wanted his cock badly. "No foreplay this time," he chuckled as he undid his own jeans and shucked them down far enough to let his fat boner pop out free.

Cole gasped at the sight. It was a beautiful dick already, but he realized he'd anticipated a look at it to compare it mentally to Paul Ricciardi's cock. Of course before there had been no reason to put two and two together. But now, the family ressemblance was undeniable. Paul and John looked similar enough, he guessed, but their cocks were almost identical.

"No foreplay," Cole repeated back to John, watching the hunky daddy type apply a thin drizzle of lube to his boner and then hold it up.

"If you need to take it slow, sexy..." John hissed.

Cole shook his head. "No way... I've fucking missed your dick."

John winced a little at that. It had been a solid two weeks since his and Cole's last time together. But even if Paul hadn't shared the details, he had a pretty good idea his brother had been buried inside this hottie just a few days ago. There was that jealous side in him, but he kept his ego in check and told himself the best way to win over a perfect guy like Cole was to be the man Cole wanted. He'd just have to figure his way to do that. And if it didn't work, it didn't work.

Cole, meanwhile, wasn't feeling any emotional complications at that moment. He was in heat. The whole week, after his fateful hook up with Paul Ricciardi, he'd been nervous things would be over with John. Or that the sexual chemistry would be ruined. But fuck, this FBI hunk was if anything hornier than ever. That fat cock felt rock hard as Cole sat down on it.

"Oh fuck, buddy," John muttered.

The entry stung a little, but Cole was determined to show off for John, to show the man he didn't always need the slow and gentle approach. He sank down onto that boner, all the way onto John's crotch.

"Jesus," the man said excitedly.

Cole was breathing heavy, almost hyperventilating as a way to deal with the shock to his insides. But fuck, the action had made John Ricciardi's dick feel big and powerful, and Cole fed off that. He'd been embarrassed sometimes by how much he loved to bottom, and he always worried about the way a man like John might think he was slutty or something.

But John's look up at Cole was one of pure lust and appreciation. Normally, he'd be checking in with the stud to make sure he was OK, but he had an intuitive sense this time, the way Cole's breathing quickly got back to normal and the way that jock dick pulsed excitedly. John gripped the soccer stud's thighs tightly and thrust up into the kid.

"Fuck yes," Cole hissed.

"You need that, buddy?" John asked excitedly.

"I do, man. Fuck."

John's thrusts were getting steady and firm. Fucking into this hot young man. As much as he normally preferred a long session with lots of making out, some teasing BJs and a real deep rim job, this was pretty incredible too. The way both men were keyed up for a quick fuck. Cole riding John's lap and bracing his hands on the man's burly chest. But mostly John fucking now, unable to get enough of the sweet slick sensation of Cole Walker's insides.

His brother had felt that too, had fucked the Walker kid, just like he was doing now. Before that would have brought the jealous flashes on, but now it just fed his excitement and the quivering pleasure in his cock. He pushed up into Cole's perfect, young body harder and faster.

"Unbutton your shirt, sexy," he hissed. His fingers now like talon's in Cole's quad muscle. As fun as it was to mate still mostly clothed, John wanted to see the dude he was nailing.

Cole had to steady his balance as his bracing hand left to undo the shirt and open it up. That had the effect of making the ex-jock core contract into a tight washboard ripple.

John fucked faster now, and guided Cole's hips up and down to exaggerate the penetration. This was intense.

"God yeah... fuck me, sir." Cole pleaded.

It was the first time Cole had dropped the s-word and John was surprised how much it turned him on. His eyes took in all of this young man's naked beauty as he felt his orgasm come on.

"Oh shit... cum in me... breed me..." Cole was losing any self consciousness about his bottomy need.

John's hips were a blur. Did Paul fuck the kid like this?

"FUCK!" he cried, loudly.

Cole's face broke into a big excited smile as he watched the lawman get his nut. John Ricciardi was so crazy handsome, but his face became something primal in orgasm.

The man's hips had frozen, locked in place to load Cole up, but Cole's hips undulated gentle against that pulsing hardon, milking out every drop he could.

As that big O began to crest, Cole gripped his own hardon.

It was John's turn to help out, he thrust up into Cole's body, not as hard now, but with enough force to press against that butt nut.

"Harder," Cole asked. More than he anticipate the angle was making his prostate sing.

John got an excited grin as he started going at it again. He had maybe a minute tops before his dick got too sensitive for this. But hopefully it wouldn't take this jock stud a minute.

Cole felt it, he really felt it. That thick Ricciardi prick now a battering ram against his sensitive inner gland. And the sloppy feeling of John's heavy load coating the way. He jerked and felt it coming.

On the spur of the moment he decided he'd try it. Right on the cusp, he let go. John's pounding prick did the rest. Cole was cumming like crazy, the sperm being pushed out of him in heavy jets. There was that intense light headed orgasm again. Maybe not exactly a Paul Ricciardi orgasm, but close.

Only when he came down from the high and regained full consciousness, did he feel mortified by what he'd down.

"Oh fuck, your sweater," Cole said. "Sorry... "

Indeed that preppy-dad style quarter-zip sweater was splotched all over with Cole's seed. Some was on John's handsome face too, which smiled in amusement.

"Ha, it'll wash out, buddy. Anyway, it was worth it. That was totally fucking hot."

Cole leaned back, displaying his body for John. He was with one of the hottest guys in DC and that was some heavy competition. But the 23-year-old knew he had the goods too, knew Ricciardi was crazy about him. "It was hot," he said. "Glad we could mix it up some."

John nodded. His prick was softening now, and he loved the wet sensation of its retreat. "Damn Cole... tell me what I gotta do to keep you. In the bedroom, out of the bedroom... if there's something I can do, I'll fucking do it, OK?"

With another guy John's approach, his emotional neediness would come across as too much. Even with Cole, from another guy it might not have worked. But he climbed off this hunk and felt his heart pound. Maybe it was the sex that hard worn his defenses down. "You know, John, I just want a fucking boyfriend. I don't know how to make that happen even, but fuck, I've been telling myself I don't want one, but I do."

John gave an empathic nod and got up off the couch, too. He was taller than Cole, by several inches and the younger man felt comforted to feel John's strong arms wrap around him and pull him close.

"We'll make it happen, buddy. In a way that works for you. But I'd be honored to be your boyfriend."

Their lips met and they made out, John leaning his head down to claim dominance in the kiss.

"Damn, bud... you hard again?" he finally asked with a chuckle.

"Maybe, yeah," Cole laughed.

John patted the young stud's rump. "All right, let me clean up some of the mess we made and we can take our time for round two."

It would take him a bit to recover and recharge. Maybe even an hour. John Ricciardi was feeling every bit his middle age and maybe had no business being with a 23-year old. But he'd decided he was gonna be every bit of the powerhouse sex stud this young man wanted him to be.

[banannabethchase]

Mox walks into the BCC locker room to find Breeze visiting, and immediately runs off to hide Matt because those two can never be allowed to meet.

Such a Pretty Face - also on AO3

~

Mox walks in on Breeze hanging out in the locker room before Collision and knows one thing: he can't let Breeze and Matt meet. He fails almost immediately.

~

I...this one did things. Title from Brat by Chrissy Chlapecka.

~

All Mox was trying to do was get a goddamned coffee.

He should have known it was possible, is the thing. He and Matt work at AEW. Claudio works at AEW. Of course Claudio would bring his boyfriend here.

He hadn’t thought it through to the logical conclusion.

“Claudio,” he grumbles into the phone, watching the interloper angle the phone for a selfie, “what the fuck is Breeze doing here?”

Breeze looks over at him and rolls his eyes, stupid perfect eyebrows doing a weird little wiggle. Mox stomps out of the room.

“Oh, you’ve seen him?” Claudio is annoyingly sunny. “Good. I and my Lyft driver are stuck in traffic. I told him to find you.”

“Told – why?!” Mox pulls the phone away and stares at it, waiting for one of Claudio’s stupid puns or jokes to show up in a text.

“Because Bryan finds him unappealing and Wheeler is unavailable.” He’s so annoyingly calm about it all, like this isn’t horribly inconvenient.

“Why me, though?” Mox whines. “I can’t stand him.”

“You can,” Claudio admonishes. “You are simply angry he insulted your gear that one time.”

Mox had actually forgotten about that, but Breeze can bitch about his gear pants all day long. “That’s not it,” he hisses. He looks through the door, angling his neck so that he can see Breeze’s foot. “I don’t want him going anywhere near Matt.”

“What?” Claudio asks, uncharacteristically befuddled. “Why not?”

“Because you and I managed to bag the two most impossible, insane, and insufferable men on the fucking planet and if they meet people will die.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line. Mox wonders if he should begin planning his will. “Then perhaps I shouldn’t tell you Tyler is hoping to have a match with Orange Cassidy.”

Mox groans. “Seriously?!”

“He’s a free agent, Jon.” Mox wants to rip that smug tone out of his throat. “He’s allowed to explore his options.”

“Explore his – he’s going to end up running into Matt!” Mox hisses. “It’s going to be horrible.”

“What’s going to be horrible?”

Mox jumps about a foot as Matt comes up behind him. “Baby!” He leans in and kisses Matt, steering them slightly away from the door. “Hey, what’s up?”

“I heard my name and horrible in the same breath,” Matt says, dodging Mox’s next attempt to kiss him. “What’s horrible?”

“He’s talking about me,” Breeze yells from the room.

Mox freezes. “Matty,” he says slowly.

“Who,” Matt says, snapping into business mode, “is in there?” Then he eyes Mox.

Mox doesn’t even have time to panic run away before Breeze walks up behind him. He looks down a little at Matt. “Hey, Jackson,” he says, grinning. “Like your shoes.”

Matt’s eyes widen, hurt echoing. “Why is he in there?” he whispers. And Mox realizes.

“Oh, god, no!” Mox says. “Fuck, no. Never. Absolutely not. Hey.” He cups Matt’s cheeks, tilting him so their eyes meet. “Listen to me. The only pretty boy obsessed with his looks and clothes I want is you.”

Matt pouts, and it would be cute if Mox wasn’t about to lose his mind. “Then why’s he here?”

Mox looks over at Breeze, who looks maddeningly comfortable as he leans against the wall. He’s as if Matt and Seth got fused in one body but threw in an extra dose of impossible. “Yeah, Dean,” Breeze says, and Mox might strangle him right here and now. “Why am I here?”

“You call him that again, and I’ll shove those last season shoes right up your ass,” Matt snaps.

Mox fights a smile. “You don’t like it when people call me Dean?”

“You’re mine now,” Matt says simply. “Well, and AEW’s. Your name is Jon.” He turns to Breeze. “Or Mox, to you.”

“To me?”

Matt nods. He shuffles back into Mox’s space, an arm around his waist like a claim. “I’ll ask one more time. Why are you here?”

“If you must know,” Breeze says, adjusting his ponytail, “I’m interested in a match.”

Matt’s demeanor immediately shifts. “A match!” he says. “We would love to have you.”

“What?” Mox asks. “What was that?”

“A highly talented free agent like you? We’d be lucky to work together. Come on, let’s get to my office. Who are you interested in working with?”

Breeze turns to Mox, who shrugs, still unable to speak.

“Cassidy, Castle,” Breeze says, counting off his fingers, “and, honestly, you and Nick have the right idea right now.” His grin turns deadly. “Wouldn’t have a problem with getting in with the EVPs.”

Mox waits for Matt to correct Breeze about the name, but it doesn’t even look like he noticed. Matt grabs Breeze’s wrist and pulls him toward the EVP room, leaving Mox behind as they begin chattering about ring gear and the best tights for their asses.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been standing there when he feels a giant hand clap on his shoulder.

“Jesus!” he shrieks, jumping about a foot. “What the fuck?”

“Hello,” Claudio says. “Have you seen Tyler?”

“I – yes,” Mox says. “Somehow.”

“Somehow?”

“They, um. They met.”

Claudio frowns. “That can’t possibly have gone well.”

“Matt through I was cheating with Breeze.”

Claudio’s face goes blank for long enough that Mox worries if he has another jealous lunatic on his hands. And then he busts into laughter, falling against the door. “You!” Claudio chokes out. “You! And Breeze!” He works himself into a fit, tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

“What the hell is so funny?” Mox asks, punching Claudio in his stomach. It kind of hurts his knuckles, and it makes him want to punch Claudio somewhere softer. “Calm the fuck down.”

“I apologize,” Claudio says, mopping his eyes with the cuffs of his BCC jacket. “I really do. I just don’t think you could handle Breeze.”

“I can handle Matt.”

Claudio scoffs. “Oh, no, my friend.” He claps Mox on the shoulder. “Breeze is very different from Matt.”

Mox rolls his eyes as they make their way toward the EVP room. “Either way, they’re being weird in a way I didn’t expect.”

“Explain.”

“I can’t,” Mox says, a hand on the EVP room doorknob, “you have to see it to get it.” He doesn’t bother knocking – never has, never will when it comes to Matt. The door swings open easily under his hand.

“Oh, god,” Claudio says behind him. “I see what you mean.”

Matt and Breeze are both shirtless, in the middle of swapping gear shirts.

“And I think,” Matt says, clearly in the middle of a rant, “that if we really want to sell it, we should have you in matching gear. It may be too late for you to custom make anything, but I’m sure some of my clothes will fit you.” He frowns. “Do you have anything white?”

“What are you doing?” Claudio asks.

Breeze and Matt throw him identical exasperated looks, then return to their conversation.

“Of course I have a white suit,” Breeze says, scoffing. “But I think we might want to go for my pastel green. I can have a friend overnight it so it’s here by 10am tomorrow.”

“What – what?” Mox is beginning to get dizzy. “Seriously, what?”

Matt turns to him after throwing Breeze a smile that Mox hasn’t really seen from the other side before. “Breeze should debut at Revolution,” he says. “I know it’s soon, and we still have to get approval from Tony, but he’s always much more receptive to my ideas when I already have a plan.”

“That’s not him being receptive,” Mox says, lowering himself into a chair. “That’s him being afraid of you when you hit your batshit crazy levels.”

Matt shrugs. “Tomato, tomahto.” He checks his watch. “Oh! Breeze, we need to go talk to Tony now. If we don’t, he might not agree because its’ too ‘last minute’.” He says the last bit with finger quotes. Matt flounces up to Mox, wraps a hand around the back of his neck, and yanks him down for a kiss that’s more insistent and controlling than Mox remembers from him. “See you later, baby.”

Breeze kisses Claudio on the cheek before pushing through the door and following Matt.

“What,” Claudio says, watching them practically skip down the hallway, “was that?”

“Right?!” Mox says. “Claudio. Our boyfriends should never had been allowed to meet.” He grabs Claudio by the shoulders. “Claudio. This is a disaster.”

Claudio blinks. “Disaster? How?”

“They’re going to run this place with hair spray and sneakers,” Mox moans. “We’re going to be stuck listening to them bitch about everything all the time.”

Claudio shrugs, and Mox is losing faith that he’ll be able to impose the urgent need to stop this. “They’re entertained and productive, and not killing each other.” He shoulders Mox out of the way to watch Matt and Breeze knock on Tony’s door. “I consider this a positive.”

~

The next night, Breeze debuts to help Matt and Nick win the belts, and Mox watches backstage, covered in sweat from his own victory, with his jaw on the floor.

“I hate how well they work together,” he mumbles, eyes glued to the screen. “This is going to be horrible.”

“Come now, Jon, your boy has a belt again.” Claudio claps him on the shoulder. “He might calm down.”

“Nope,” Mox says, watching the Bucks and Breeze celebrate in the middle of the ring, then roll out to let Sting have his moment. “No, this is going to make things worse.”

Matt scampers off stage and launches into Mox’s arms, clocking him in the nose with the belt before wrapping his legs around Mox’s waist and kissing him.

“That was awesome!” he hears Breeze say behind him, and then he hears some slurping sounds.

Mox pulls away with one last kiss to Matt’s lips, to see Breeze and Claudio in the same sort of position.

“See?” Breeze says, casually held up by a smiling Claudio with one arm. Showoffs. “You didn’t need to panic so much, Mox. You have no faith in any of us.”

Matt looks at him, eyes giant. “You panicked? About what?”

Mox groans. “Get – no, it’s – Claudio, I’m going to kill your boyfriend later.” He sets Matt down. “You did great out there, baby. Congrats on the belt.”

“But what did you panic about?” Matt asks, poking Mox in the ribs. “Did you worry I’d, like, fall in love with Breeze?” His lips curve up. “Did you think we’d start kissing or something?”

“Not even a little,” Mox scoffs. “I thought you’d kill each other.”

“Really,” Matt says, and Mox doesn’t miss the way his eyes flicker to Breeze. He also doesn’t miss the way Breeze smirks in response.

“Oh, no you don’t,” Mox says, grabbing Matt around the waist and hauling him away. “No falling in love with another twink.”

As he hauls Matt away, he hears Claudio laugh and Breeze yell, “I’m a twunk!”

~

Mini Playlist: Brat - Chrissy Chlapecka I'm So Hot - Chrissy Chlapecka I'm Baby - Lil Mariko Shiny - Lil Mariko, Full Tac

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fics With Titles That Start With M (3) Masterlist

part one, part two

Made for Each Other (ao3) - BREAD2000yeet

Summary: Dan and Phil 2009 Halloween YouTube meetup but it's insanely sweet. Based off some of the videos other people uploaded of them standing off alone during it. More emo boys kissing vibes.

made for you and me (ao3) - queerofcups

Summary: "The question is how do we come out on Valentine’s Day in the least obnoxious way possible?"

Dan and Phil make a video. Phil makes a video. Things get better.

Marigold and Rosemary (ao3) - AlibiNonsense

Summary: Phil’s a strange child. His first word is ‘why’. He doesn’t speak much and cries a lot and never smiles. His parents take him to doctor after doctor who say that, despite that he’s intelligent for his age, there’s nothing wrong with him. Nigel gives his son fat plastic toy soldiers to wave about in his chubby hands and put into his mouth. Instead, Phil makes a stage out of a baby blanket and has two of the little men carefully hop around it; lines up the rest in rows as an audience and then knocks them over when he’s finished, his face crumpling.

marriage is just a piece of paper (ao3) - howell_slide

Summary: In the middle of the night in Manchester sometime in 2011, two young men get engaged.

Maybe (ao3) - dvp_95, intoapuddle

Summary: They’re only friends but when Dan wants more, Phil gives it to him

maybe next time he'll think (before he cheats) (ao3) - SylvesterLester

Summary: Phil has to be cheating. There's no other explanation.

maybe some ghosts are holding out hope for revival (ao3) - buskingalbatross

Summary: When the sex tape happened and things went south with August, Phil did what he always did. He went to cry on Dan’s shoulder. Guys like August came and went, but Dan would always be there. Him and Dan. It was the talisman you kept in your pocket. The one you couldn’t lose.

(also known as: here i am turning pulitzer prize finalist literature into phanfic)

meeting the parents (ao3) - SylvesterLester

Summary: Dan is ready to meet Phil's parents.

Right?

melt your headaches, call it home (ao3) - SylvesterLester

Summary: Even if he tried, Phil couldn't really stop himself.

midas touch (ao3) - ivylakes

Summary: Dan is covered in gold paint for some reason, and Phil's face is entirely too kissable.

Or, Dan and Phil pause the filming of their "Transforming Dan into a Golden Pig" video to make out for a bit, and Dan gets weirdly emotional.

Mint Chocolate Dick - chocolatesaucelester

Summar: Dan is the manager of a successful Pokemon themed ice cream shop, and when Phil, his boyfriend, stops by one day things get a little hot for such a frosty place.

mischief in our eyes (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Random scenes throughout the filming of the 2023 Halloween baking video.

missing the obvious (ao3) - Fictropes

Summary: Dan just wants this guy to stop ruining his game.

(or a reverse you've got mail)

moon under water (ao3) - sunflowerwitches (orphan_account)

Summary: that “i'm pretending to be your boyfriend because you look very uncomfortable with that person hitting on you” AU no one asked for but i want to write

more than convenient (ao3) - baroquen

Summary: Based on a Tumblr post.

In which Dan keeps seeing Phil as the closest profile on Grindr and finally says "fuck it."

(Except it's very sappy)

morning coffee (ao3) - calvinahobbes

Summary: “I thought you’d be sleeping in,” Phil says behind him.

morning coffee (ao3) - dizzy

Summary: Dan brings Phil a coffee every morning.

Morning Phantom (ao3) - Young_Rouge_Rose

Summary: A story spanning the length of one October, where Dan and Phil take a trip to Dan's old family home. There Dan is forced to confront the demons of his past in the form of depression, and a child dressed as a ghost in pale white sheets. Phil is left trying to fit together pieces of a very confusing puzzle

mutual generosity (ao3) - iihappydaysii

Summary: dan and phil enjoy each other's company after they come home from their holiday

My 'alone' includes you. (ao3) - KujiraHanma

Summary: Dan and Phil are on their Interactive Introvers 2018 World Tour. Needing a break from the tour (and work) they take a walk along the beach. Phil recognizes that as an introvert, and recharging by being alone, he can recharge with Dan.

My Demons (ao3) - FairytaleTalia

Summary: Dan, having been a demon for years, is slowly losing all hope of ever becoming human again. That is, until he suddenly bumps into Phil Lester, who, despite their awkward first encounter, seems to have taken a liking to Dan. Eventually they become friends, but Dan needs more.

My Hot New Neighbor (ao3) - DuckMcDuckPants

Summary: Phil just moved into a flat in a nice quiet area of London and has finally gotten settled. But then he starts to notice that many days, his hot neighbor likes to dance around in his underwear.

My Juliet (ao3) - RyRyCaptain

Summary: Phil is a world-famous playwright, and he's directing his newest play, Romeo and Juliet. Dan is an actor who luckily receives the part of Juliet.

My Lucky One (ao3) - myawfod

Summary: When moving out of old flats to get muse, Dan and Phil have the awkward issue of 'the landlord mistook us for the same person and we both need this place'. Fortunately, Phil's a head-in-the-clouds artist, and Dan's a half-determined writer- they're not that different, right?

But when Dan's story is not ready to sell and Phil's art is not quite right, how do they pay the ever-piling bills at their doorstep?

My Treat (ao3) - tahliaisnotonfire

Summary: Phil visits the carnival with his parents every year as it's a tradition between them. This year, they can't make it and so Phil drags Dan along for a fun-filled day packed with food, games, rides and unexpected surprises.

Also known as Dan and Phil's fluffy carnival shenanigans.

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #212

Have you ever seen a cougar in the wild? No, thank god. They don't even live here.

When was the last time you took a selfie? Like, months ago.

Do you have any nieces or nephews? Quite a few.

Who’s your favourite person? Girt.

Are you more of a cat or dog person? Cat.

What’s the weirdest compliment you’ve ever received? It's not appropriate so we're not talking about it lmao

Who is someone you really admire? Mark Fischbach.

Do you prefer piano or guitar music? Electric guitar.

Are you good at using Photoshop? I'm decent.

What were you last embarrassed about? My social awkwardness when I was trying to order a burger at this place in Charlotte. I was just getting over being overwhelmed and stuff, and the menu kinda confused me, so I made a fool of myself. Idk how in the world Girt managed to not just walk the fuck away from me lmao

Are there any clothing items you really want but can’t find? I've wanted a black, studded leather jacket since I was a teenager.

What’s a habit you find gross? Biting toenails. I was floored when I learned people even did it.

Are you a hat person? No.

Has anyone ever approached you in the street and asked to take your picture? No.

What color hair did your first crush have? Brown.

Have you ever had a professional make-over? No.

Have you ever had a professional photo shoot? Not for just myself. Family stuff, though.

What is your favorite Avril Lavigne song? "Nobody's Home"

Do you have any embarrassing health issues? I have IBS, yes. Hyperhidrosis is also very embarrassing because you look like you dove into a pool after being outside in mild heat for five minutes.

Have you ever ridden in an ambulance? Yes, the second time I had to go for my asthma. I don't think I'd properly reached asthma attack territory, but it was mighty fuckin' close.

Have you ever gotten sick in the car? No.

How many teeth do you have? Idk, however many you're supposed to have without wisdom teeth.

Have you ever cussed someone out? I remember doing this to my sister's abusive boyfriend she had in high school. I feel like this has probably happened with another or two.

Does it take a lot to make you feel guilty? No.

Have you ever broken a really important promise? Well, I did promise to keep Sara's disgusting political compass a secret. So yes, I eventually broke that.

Have you ever told someone’s deep, dark secret? ^ yes. There was no way to ban her from the RP forum without explaining it to our mutual friends/RP partners, I'm sure.

Have you ever purposely hurt yourself? Yes, I had problems with this as a teenager, and it happened a few times in my early 20s.

Have you ever eaten any type of insect? No.

What’s a hobby you would like to try out? Herping.

Have you ever won a raffle? If so, what’ve you won? Yes, this is how I won two rare and limited pieces of Silent Hill: Revelation merch.

What’s the biggest insect you’ve ever seen? Probably some sort of beetle.

How about the biggest spider? A bird-eating tarantula when I was at the NARBC with Sara. The insane thing is I think the guy whose booth it was might have been the YouTuber who GOT me into tarantulas (The Tarantula Collective) lmfao, I just can't remember for sure. They definitely at least looked similar.

Is your room covered in posters, or pretty bare? As of only a few days ago, they're almost completely bare now. I'm redecorating in there. I'm leaving most posters behind.

Would you ever consider being a cannibal? Strong no.

Do you collect anything valuable? No.

What was the last thing you killed? Most likely an ant.

Who is your favorite female celebrity? Hm... I guess either Gab Smolders or tarantula kat. It's strange, all celebs I've been wildly invested in were/are men lmao

What’s your favorite Lady Gaga song? "Bloody Mary"

Would you date the same sex? Why or why not? Yes, and I have before, I'm pansexual.

If someone cheated on you, would you take them back if you really loved them? Nope, you've got one shot.

Obsessions? Meerkats have been my longest-lasting and most well-known, but online I'm also very open about my extreme Rammstein hyperfixation (I say "online" because irl I am very embarrassed by being someone who hyperfixates and I don't like sharing), the Silent Hill franchise, watching YouTube, tarantulas...

Addictions? Technology, specifically the Internet. I barely know how to exist without it, and it's sad. I'm aware I'm also addicted to soda, albeit this is an addiction I'm more capable of actually fighting, but I still have a few bottles (not two-liters, don't be mistaken) a week.

What are your #1 priorities in life? My happiness, health (mental and physical), maintaining healthy and fulfilling relationships, and trying to figure out my purpose and what I want to live for (this includes working towards a career of some sort).

Have you ever dated a redhead? No.

List three of your favorite types of YouTube videos to watch. Let's plays, reptile and tarantula collectors' care-type videos, herping.

What is the name of your YouTube channel, if you have one? 0zzkat (it’s a zero because with an "o" was somehow already taken boooooooo).

How old were you the first time you encountered God? God was forced on me from birth (I was baptized, so quite literally).

Any upcoming travel plans? I'm probably going BACK to Charlotte next weekend because Girt's picking up a really nice exercise bike Javier has for sale, so he has to pick that up because shipping would be like, $500. The bike is rather small so would fit into Girt's bedroom, and he plans on facing it towards his TV so he can just be on the bike while watching YouTube.

What are you reading currently? Nothing right now; I recently finished the Omen of the Stars arc in the Warriors series, so now I need to order the next arc.

What’s the first concert you attended? Alice Cooper.

Where do you most hope to visit? The KMP grounds in South Africa.

For what would you be famous? I feel that I'm most CAPABLE of being famous for my writing, but I WANT to be well-known for my photography, at least in the photography community; truly "famous" photographers are extremely few and far between.

When did you last cry? And why, if you feel like sharing. Last night. I had an anxiety attack.

What fictional character/s remind you of yourself? Clearsight from Wings of Fire is a strong one.

What would you like to tell your father? I wish you were better when I was growing up.

What would you like to tell your mother? Thank you for literally everything you do.

What is something you have no patience for? Jokes about rape or other extremely serious, harmful things.

How many cats do you have? One. I'd like one more, but.

How many dogs do you have? One.

How many other pets do you have? One: a champagne morph ball python.

How many of your grandparents are still alive? None.

Have you ever been flipped off by a random stranger? Yes, when I was driving one day. My mom was absolutely seething, she reached her arm out of the window and did it right back.

Does everyone in your family know your sexual orientation? I don't think everyone does.

Would you ever want to go back to school? So... as of extremely recently I am considering going back for some sort of writing degree. I don't want to be an author, I just feel like a degree in my strongest skill might come in handy for getting SOME sort of job in writing.

If you were the opposite sex, how would you style your hair? shrug

What is the wallpaper on your cell phone? Lock screen is this gorgeous artwork featuring a skull with flowers, butterflies, and bees, and my home screen is another piece of artwork that's a simplistic monarch butterfly texture.

What do you have handy at your bedside? Two lamps (only one is usually on, my little moon one, but the bigger one is for if I need more light), sometimes my phone, the remote for my moon lamp (it can change colors), and whatever book I'm reading.

When did you last sing to yourself? When I was otw home from Charlotte with Girt.

What is the greatest accomplishment of your life? Healing from my trauma with Jason, I think. I could say still being alive, because boy have I wanted to kill myself plenty of times, but in a way I feel like healing from Jason was even harder. A big reason I'm still alive is because I was just too afraid of the experience of killing myself, so like... surviving was the only option.

What is your opinion on brown eyes? Do not get me wrong, brown eyes can be beautiful, especially in the light. However, it is my least favorite human eye color.

Would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel? The child of both.

How do you feel about tattoos and piercings? Explain. I fucking love them and I'm so glad humans conceived the idea for both. Both can be a method of self-expression, and especially for me, making you enjoy your body more.

Talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way. Ozzy Osbourne. He was my bait into metal music, and his music has comforted me since I was a pre-teen, and continues to do so to this day. His music makes me feel warm, and it feels like home to me.

The world is listening. Pick one sentence you would tell them. For right this very minute? Free Palestine. If it wasn't currently under genocidal siege, I'd have to think harder on this, because there's a lot of contenders.

Do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organized/not organized? I have a desk for my laptop. It's got my laptop on it of course, plus the Mira plush Girt got me, the weighted meerkat plush Mom got me, my planner and Girt's work schedule, my therapy workbook, and a few art supplies.

What’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know? I would never share my sexual life with either of them. Specifically kinks, no fucking thanks.

[gemsgamegems]

couldn't do this yesterday because it was hella late and I was half terrified of what was gonna come out of my mind.

here to report that going to sleep and then work has done not a damn thing for my psyche so everyone pull up a chair, grab a snack, and get comfy.

I'm literally gonna descend into Straight Madness all over this post and call it a review. you're welcomed or I'm sorry or whatever 💩

(footage of my MC going to bully her beloved on his special chat app💀🖤)

there is surely crack or something very similar to it laced in chatsim games I swear to God??? I've played over a dozen different ones, and then the especially recent popular ones (i.e. Blooming Panic, Error 143) were living snugly in my remaining braincells. so like, I'm not stranger to the rabid insanity I feel when I play a really good chat sim.

also, I have a thing for being mean. let me rephrase: in romance gaming, I love when I as the player character can essentially bully the intended love interest(s) and possibly get rewarded for it 😇. a...bully-a-boyfriend simulator if you will.

Enter A Date With Death.

the game of my dreams.

featuring the victim Man of my dreams.

my fictional tastes in men are so very much not aligned that I never know who I'm gonna be in love with for the next 5 months. so I'm pleasantly surprised each time I get attached LOL!

yeah he's a grim reaper, yeah he's hella edgy, yeah he's got white hair, yeah he embodies what the kids call 'babygirl', etc etc etc. on anyone else, I probably wouldn't have cared. and on our dear Grimmy, at first I didn't. all those aspects of him that didn't register as a need or want for me suddenly became the spices that enhanced the flavor that is Grim/Casper's personality and his interactions with the player character. he is QUITE LITTERALLY the ONLY LOVE INTEREST at the moment WHO CAN GET AWAY WITH CALLING ME STUPID/AN IDIOT even if I very much am, either as my MC or irl lolz

homeboy is literally insulting my intelligence and I'm giggling and rolling my eyes like a textbook school girl 🤣 truly loved that for me.

my goodness the banter??? the RICHNESS of the back and forth and the teasing and the insults and the flirting and the presence of something building up to be intensly romance flavored was at too much and not enough (in a good way, I pinky promise!!)

I found myself playing with the other features (watering my plant, interacting with my bunny and bookshelf, etc) only to quickly rush back to click the laptop so I could interact with Grim/Casper again. I don't know who falls in love first, Grim or the player character, and maybe that's something that's supposed to be headcannoned??? but if that's so, I think that it's a gradual thing. because while Grim is literally commenting on how pretty/gorgeous/handsome we are, and then trying his damndest to take it back, me and my MC are sitting there like...damn....oh shit...we like this fool....shit we LOVE THIS FOOL WTF????

I'd like to take a moment in this random stream of thoughts to talk about the scene where Grim visits us to bring us flowers, reveals his highly classified name, and proceeds to woo and charm and fluster us until you have no choice but to be swept up by him... oh. wait. was this 3rd person or 1st person speak...

BUT ANYWAY I JUST WANNA LOSE MY SHIT ABOUT THE FLOWERS BECAUSE MY GOD WHY IS HE SO FUCKING CUTE?!!?!? (my favorite thing about this game was having the option to call him sexy and not in favor of calling him cute. because what you gonna do about it???? exactly 🤣)

at the time of this rambling, I still have only gotten to 1 ending, but I hope to knock out the others before the end of the month, time permitting lol.

annnnnnd speaking of Other Features and my absolute love and adoration of the Two and Half Studios team...

I bought the DLC so I had access to the additional dialogue, clothing, and physical customization options 🤭hiiighly recommend you grab the DLC if you haven't already or were on the fence about it!

the pet optionssssss. I mentioned this on my demo review, but I loved having my pet bunny. I love that we can interact with our pet. I love that it Casper understands that MC and Pet are a packaged deal. Damn right, that's our shared child now ya dork 🤭

music room was funnnn, the special features on the laptop (games, internet, drawing app, etc) were absolutely perfect and I tired out everything at least twice.

the bookshelf feature??? I clicked on it every day and I gotta say I adored the little diary entries from younger MC. alsoooo the fact that the book 'changed' each time you went to your shelf was SUCH a fun thing???? loved that shit

eavesdropping on the neighbors?!?!? i'm hella noisy in real life, oops, so there was a big thrill in listening in on the peeps on the other side and experiencing a different type of love story emerge. I am mad at myself because I think I missed a day of eavesdropping and by the end of my first playthrough that part of the game felt 'incomplete'. but nothing a second, third, and fourth replay can't solve LOL!!

watering our plant 💓 idk why that made me so happy but it just did. something about giving emotions to inanimate objects gets me ever fucking time

( a tangent within a tangent: there's nothing more attractive than someone with a plush, yes azreal, I'm talking about your owner zjjddgfs and Casper wonders why I called his ass cute. this is why!!!! this is exhibit A-Z my guy!!!!)

I'm sure there's a slew of other things I squealed and fangirled and cooed over in my playthrough, but this is a perfect stopping point, right?

thank you all for coming, see you next time when we discuss another game that's infected my brain and rendered me absolutely useless 👍🏽

[smolgirlowo]

semi-live blogging riverdale with my friends [S7xE3]

'she claims that the milk man killed her parents' god we are so back

alice and hal fighting about adopting the girl who's parent's just died, normal husband and wife behaviour

oh shit new establishing shot for blossom manor

'mother i am far too busy for boys' 'doing what? painting naked ladies?' 'MOTHER!' *walks away*, love how gay cheryl just is. she is also eating a vagina shaped fruit in this scene.

get dumped ronnie. archie can do better than you

'pta approved sexual reproduction lecture' yeah that's what I want after i witness a murder

i fucking hate julian man. unfortunate for him that archie doesn't know what sex is

'i had a feeling it might razz your berries' i hate the 1950s

playing 'i wish i didn't love you so' over a scene of two gay men flirting, iconic

cheryl can't even pretend to be interested in archie.

MEAT GRINDER MOMENT

'i was mad at my parents for not letting me see The Tingler' [INCREADIBLY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER]. thought you could put a 1959 reference in 1955 and get it past me, writers? probably, but not this one.

black character: 'a very clear and direct poem about america being racist' white character: 'it's art, it doesn't have to mean anything.' god really hope these kids aren't on a divine mission to solve racism cause the don't see very qualified to do it

HOLY SHIT DOES CHERYL WANT TO FUCK TONI SO BAD

oh no cheryl don't try kissing a boy it won't make you straight, oh god no she's crying

CHAPTER 6: AROUSAL

BETTY IN THE FUCK DIMENSION. EVERYONE IN THE FUCK DIMENSION.

"what the fuck, what am I watching?" "METAPHOR" love my friends

WHY IS CHERYL IN THE BACKGROUND OF VERONICA'S SEX DREAM???

"it's art, betty, it doesn't have to make sense."

kevin has almost learned what racism is, betty is horny beyond belief. glad to see they both had productive nights

"this show is so fucking nothing. it's everything. it's poetry in motion."

me when teaching sex ed with the common American flower.

I am a 6 on the Kingsley scale, apparently.

'i am going to host a make-out party' 'what's that, an orgy' gay men cannot be trusted with language

STOP WITH THE FLOWERS AND BEES METAPHORS

'you wanna have gay sex?' 'i have a boyfriend!' *leaves* I love cheryl so much

iconic jughead behaviour: 'you are an odd duck jughead, aren't you? a loner.' 'I'M NOT WEIRD! I'M NOT A WEIRDO! I'M GOING TO A MAKE-OUT PARTY!'

boner music. boner music. love the boner music.

'hey betty, you know that um... sex book.' i don't think the writers know what the kinsey reports are.

betty and archie already doing role play on date -1

ARCHIE GOT A BONER!!!! BONER CANNON!!!

FANGS DON'T YOU DARE KISS CHERYL! THAT'S YOUR BEST FRIENDS/ex-wife in another timeline's SOUL MATE!

kevin does not know what a kiss is. JUG KISS, JUG DOING A KISS! BUGHEAD MOMENT! THEY HAVEN'T MET BEFORE???

'i think i got you're gum' 'keep it' i would never talk to ronnie every again.

TONI DON'T YOU DARE KISS JULIAN! THAT'S YOUR SOUL MATES TWIN BROTHER! THAT'S NOT HOW YOU MAKE A GIRL JEALOUS!

jughead and veronica moment! they do not know how to speak to each other! it's adorable.

>we have started talking about the tickle porn arc, it has nothing to do with what's going beyond the fact that we are insane and the show is insane<

oh shit ronnie and jughead? are we setting up ronnie and jughead for some reason? they have the same favourite horror movie, how cute.

kevin is scared to even touch a girl, i love him so much.

'you're not excited' *looks at flaccid dick*. god, kevin, stop trying to pretend you're straight, you're really bad at it.

oh god cheryl. OH GOD. oh god, you are much better at faking being straight.

"archie got hot" "archie got hot" "archie got hot"

jesus cheryl. I can't even tell if you're torturing your mom or if you actually had sex with archie.

oh no, betty gave kevin the guide to human sexuality. oh no he's going to learn he's gay. I mean good for him, but i'm so sorry betty.

more ronnie and jughead setup? OH NO, jughead is going to jail for murder.

[erwinsvow]

My day was pretty good but college is kicking my ass so badly rn it’s embarrassing…

On another note, just wanted to let you know how I found your blog! It was through another blog (can’t remember which one sorry) recommending their favourite obx writers and that’s a statement I absolutely agree with🫶 You’ve developed a consistent characterization of Rafe that I believe is recognizable and belongs to your blog (idk if that makes sense) I think it’s extremely natural to compare yourself to others but please remember that you’re doing an amazing job!!

Sorry for the word vomit but you’re just so kind every time you interact with anyone and your writing is just SO good I wanted you to know how I feel

Also was curious to know how you feel about dark Rafe because I can’t stop thinking about ghostface (but he could also be sweet in a more twisted and obsessive rafe way)

-💓

omg i remember college like it was yesterday and it kicked my ass too😭😭😭 you got this bae!! it'll be over before you know it but stay focused on the grind 🩵

also stopppp that is so sweet. you are so nice because im so new to writing for obx! n that is so generous of you to say because i really love writing for rafe and bouncing btwn mean n sweet rafe... he's such a tough cookie to write but that makes it so fun! you are so so so nice im gonna cry <3 will remember this everytime i feel iffy :( also i always try to reply to every anon how i would want someone to reply to mine!!!! i remember so vividly being in someones inbox and pouring out ideas or love for like a short reply lol which would hurt my feelings even tho it is not that serious at all haha

but its srs to me now <3 i love replying to ppl on here especially sweet angels like u !!! 💓

ur fucking cooking... you may or may not have seen that my entire blog used to scream themed because its fully one of my favorite movie series EVER<3 ghostface!rafe is SOOOOO yummy. tw murder and a whole bunch of psycho stuff lol

he's soooooo sick n fucking twisted!!!! if he was a true ghostface, he'd be insanely protective over you, telling you it's dangerous to go out alone at night, that you shouldn't even stay at home alone if he's not spending the night. his lil killing spree would start with people trying to break the two of you up, people he knows are actively trying to get into your ear and tell you that rafe is dangerous, that's he's bad for you.

n you defend rafe with all your heart!! your boyfriend is so caring, doesn't even allow you to drive home alone, chauffeurs you around in his car, drops whatever he's doing to come get you if you call.

a couple times he's a lil late.. shows up to your door all sweaty, looking tired n messy, and you ask where he's been all night. doesn't really give you a real answer, just tells you he was with the boys. (he was gutting this boy from some party the other night that wouldn't leave you alone). you hear the news the next day, and when people in town start questioning some of the young men, you valiantly protect rafe, saying he was with you all night (which he was... kind of..) and the way he beams at you when you do this guarantees that you would never voice your suspicions no matter how prominent they become.

ur big friend group tries to figure out what's going on... pretending to be detectives, one of them even questions if youre the killer, saying your sweet personality is the best alibi n that no one would suspect a thing. you laugh, then rafe laughs, so everyone laughs, but the friend who said it is next on his list.

consoles you when ur crying, sick n tired of feeling so scared all the time, wanting life to go back to normal! you love spending time with rafe but everything is getting to be a little bit... overwhelming. you're never alone anymore, never have time or the chance to just be with your friends. it's a lil suffocating but then someone else turns up dead and you retreat into safety, into what you think can protect you: rafe.

the big reveal is the make or break. in the real world youd run screaming for your life. but in shea's world ur just as crazy as he is, still believe he did everything for the right reason, brainwashed enough by him and his charm and his love for you that is so apparent he would kill for you and you let it sway you.

that was a lil dark even for me, but canon rafe is literally a killer n i just be ignoring that part like damn kill me too!! i love u!! biggest fan i'd be ur alibi!!

this getting hella long but rafe with ghostface tendencies is also.... so hot....just lots of overprotectiveness and stalking and if he's part of a duo, just trying to keep you out of everything and protected. doesn't want you anywhere near this stuff, freaks out if you end up hurt or realizing what's going on. but he knows you won't snitch, won't leave or even try to run. he's got you wrapped around his finger <3

and yes he fucks you with the mask on. sneaks into your house while ur leaving him a cute msg saying goodnight. fucks you all crazy and half way through you realize it's rafe. you don't stop tho n beg him to keep going <3

was this too much? maybe. do i care because this is my blog? yes i do care a little. don't want you to judge me LOL

hope this was fun for u to read bc it was fun for me to think!!!!

come again soon!! <3

[borahaerhy]

Dealer (3) - myg

Summary: Your boyfriend seemed like a dream come true: always wanting to be around you, making sure you would get home safe, never taking his hands off you. These little comforts became your whole world, and then the only thing you were allowed to have left in the world. Luckily, your boyfriends drug dealer turned out to be a much nicer guy.

Pairing: DrugDealer!Yoongi x Female!Reader

Genre: Mafia/drug kingpin au, Y/N coming from nothing, found family, Eventual smut

Warnings: A concerning father-son relationship, More of Zeke being lowkey insane, New BTS member introduced!, hitmen, a dead body, a lot of other smaller stuff but only referenced and it has to do with the hitmen, so yk what to expect.

Word count: 1.5k (Ik short as fuck, apologies <3)

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Note: If you are sensitive or triggered by abusive relationships or manipulation in any way, please do not read this fic, it can be very triggering. It will also be referenced that Y/n used to self harm, and has self-harm scars. This is fic is going to cover a lot of intense topics, and there will be a lot of drugs.

“Goddamn it, Zeke, calm the fuck down so I can actually understand what you’re saying,” Jeff had honestly been sick of his nephew’s bullshit for a very long time. Sat hunched over his desk, half paying attention to Zeke and half paying attention to the papers on his desk that should be consuming his entire focus.  

“They fucking took Y/n, Jeff. Someone came in here and fucking kidnapped her; and I know exactly who did it,” Zeke’s voice was easier to understand, but shaking with the kind of rage that would scare anyone.  

Anyone except Jeff, that is.  

“So you want me to take the guy out and get your little girlfriend back?” Zeke started yelling again, not pleased with his uncle's disrespectful tone, but to put it simply, his response was “yes”. Jeff sighed, not wanting to waste any of his good men’s efforts on some low-grade pot dealer. He moved a few people around, checked to see who was available.  

Not wanting to send the guy who has yet to do a solo mission, he called in ole reliable.  

“Jay, get your ass in here,” He called someone on the buisness phone on his desk, after finally getting Zeke to hang up after assuring him he'd get you back. He hung up before they could even get a word in edgewise, and two minutes later, a man walked in in a baggy hoodie and sweatpants, hair disheveled and hands in his pockets as he slouched in his place.  

“Yeah boss?” Jeff looked up at his son, sighing at his disheveled appearance in the middle of the afternoon.  

“I’ve got a job for you. Names Min Yoongi, he’s a low-level drug dealer whose kidnapped someone. I need you to kill him and get her back,” Before Jeff could finish his sentence, his son had already pulled out his phone and looked for the name on any public records, then to see if he was affiliated with anyone.  

“No,” He slid his phone back in his pocket and turned around, ready to walk back up to his room and go back to sleep.  

“Jay, you’re going to want to do this one-”  

“Nah, I don’t think so. He hasn’t committed any major crimes or atrocities. He’s never hurt anyone, never sold anything harder than some weed, and he volunteers at animal shelters in his free time; I’m not killing him.”  

Jeff looked at his son with animosity, clenching his jaw as he began to type in a new number. As Jay began to turn around again, about to go back to bed for real this time, the other line picked up.  

“Min Yoongi, mid-sized drug dealer on the south side, kidnapped my nephew’s girlfriend. Kill him, get her and bring her back here. You have an hour.”  

Fuck.  

That was a fucking setup.  

Jay finished walking out of the door and ran up to his bedroom, needing to find out where you were as soon as possible.  

- 

“Oh, Y/n, this is my cousin, Jay.” You reached your hand out to shake his, bright smile on your faces as Zeke’s arm pulled you tighter into his side.  

“It’s very nice to meet you, Y/n,” He bowed slightly while your hands were shaking before he stood back up and let go.  

“Don’t mind him, his mom raised him for a while in Korea before they moved back here.” Zeke’s comment was meant to be insulting, but you had only been fascinated.  

“You grew up in Korea?” Jay’s smile returned to his face, not used to meeting people that had associated with his family that were interested in his culture.  

“Yeah, only until I was 11 though. Then we moved back here so I could meet the rest of my family.”  

“Wow, that must’ve been a hard transition at such a young age. Did you know any English when you moved here?” He was almost taken back from the emotion he could see spelled out on your sweet face. He couldn’t help but keep smiling, even at the thought of one of the worst periods of his life.  

“I knew a little; basic English is taught in most schools in Korea at a very young age. But it wasn’t so bad, I still had my mom,” You smiled at his facial expression only getting warmer as he mentioned his mother again. The two of you had sat and spoken for hours, Zeke never leaving your side, but rarely ever interjecting in your conversation. He sat near and spoke to the other members of his family, mostly of how weird it was that Jay was even talking to anyone, and how annoying it had been that it was you that he was talking to.  

The family gathering had come to an end hours after the sun had set and the food had been packed up and stored back in the house. You were saying goodbye to everyone as Zeke stood beside the car at the side of the road, annoyed and ready to leave.  

“It was really nice to meet you, Jay,” You spoke softly as he engulfed you into a hug that lasted a bit longer than it should’ve - something Zeke definitely made sure you knew after you got back home.

“My name’s actually Jimin,” You looked slightly confused as you pulled away from the hug. Jimin smiled. “No one here likes to acknowledge that I’m Korean now that my mom’s gone. Easier to pretend she never existed when my name's Jay.” You smiled again, this one slightly more sad than the previous bright ones you held so proudly upon your beautiful lips.  

“Well, Jimin, it was very nice to meet you. You can call me anytime,” You smiled and hugged him again briefly before making your way back to the car.  

Jimin had watched you walking away, and then never saw or heard from you again. He messaged you a few times but he never got any response. He had always known his cousin was not the best person from the time they had spent together as children. Sure, Jimin was a hitman, but Zeke was a million times more fucked up than he could ever even imagine being.  

Though, trying to think positively, he just hoped you had accidentally given him the wrong number. Not that you had lost your phone privileges from being too ‘overly flirtatious’ with him.  

- 

Jimin arrived at Yoongi’s house only 20 minutes after the newbie had gotten there. His car still being there wasn’t a good sign. Jimin sighed as he pulled on latex gloves and grabbed his Glock out of the glove box of his car. He got out and held the gun down by his side, being sure to be aware of every movement that was happening in the surrounding neighborhood as he made his way up to the front door.  

Dumbass.  

Jimin sighed as he pushed open the broken door, bewildered as to how he thought it was a good idea to shoot through the front door of a suburban neighborhood.  

Right inside the front door was the body of the man whose name Jimin could not remember, but was definitely the guy his father had sent on the job. The blood had stopped flowing from his as if it was all already completely drained from the pale face of someone that couldn’t be more than 20 years old; probably just trying to make enough money to support his family or pay off some debts.  

He sighed as he swept the house, making sure there wasn’t anyone else here before he made his way back out to the car, dialing his father’s number as he went.  

“Speak.”  

“New guy’s dead, looks like our low-level dug dealer is a little more than that,” Jimin put the phone on speaker as he pulled his lap top out of the back seat of his car and got to work.  

“I trust you’ll take care of it from here?”  

“On it boss.”  

It took Jimin less than an hour to get a clean-up crew in and out of the house, and had guards posted all around the neighborhood to keep watch on the house to see if anyone should return; and was sitting in some random parking lot trying to find anything on him that might suggest where he would have gone next.  

Every car, weapon and address listed as belonging to him at any point in time, and any known affiliates that he had. Aside from other mid to low-level drug dealers and the person who sold the drugs to them, there was only one other person he was known to be acquainted with.  

Kim Seokjin.  

Seokjin had been on their radar for quite some time; having had several hits put out on him in the past. They stopped accepting hits on him when everyone sent out to take care of him had never been seen again; no body, no trace, nothing. Even the people who hired them to kill him had gone missing seemingly overnight without a trace.  

Jimin groaned loudly as started his car and headed off to the only place he swore he’d never go.  

I just hope I can get to them before they get to Seokjin.  

-

Taglist: @pamzn @fvcuidk @cybm1n @limiworld @scuzmunkie @hyunjingin @nellyboosworld @giselleg7784 @zaeve @lovelgirl22 @rosquilleta @kooliv @bangtannie7 @strawberryjimin13 @anjoellamorte @limitlessdespondency @lalaoise @roxy1205 @lavender-ivy @orangecarrotlemon @billy-jeans23  

[miekasa]

Mie, I’m begging for some Jean college au bf hcs - im literally so down bad for this man and the way you write men is just 🤌🏻🤌🏻🤌🏻

Absolutely, not a problem 😌 I saved this ask as a draft a while ago when you sent it, sorry for just now getting to it. Anyway, I love Jean with my whole heart, best boy, best boyfriend <33

King of forehead kisses, and not even just because of his height in comparison to yours; he just likes it. He likes the feeling of pressing his lips against your skin, and making you feel safe.

Brings you tea or coffee however you like it every day without fail. If he can get it to you in the morning before work/school then he’ll do that, if not he’ll meet you some time in the middle of the day to drop it off. Your own personal courier just for drinks.

He… has a thing for long(er) nails. He loves the feeling of them against his skin, even if you’re not scratching to apply pressure—just you holding his hand them grazing his skin is enough for him.

That being said, he will pay for you to get your nails done. Actually, he’ll pay for… almost anything you want, but the nails benefit him as much as they do you so feel free to ball out.

He never blowdries his hair because he doesn’t... know how to do the back of it. You did it for him once and he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since, but he’s also too embarrassed to ask you to do/style it again.

On the subject of hair, he does do his best to style it and take care of it, but he’s a sucker whenever you play with it. Sometimes he feigns like you’re messing up all his hard work, but he’ll literally crane his head into your touch. He loves it. 

The first time he lays on top of you and you run your hands through his hair... top 10 most euphoric moments of his life. He tries to fight off the sleep threatening to take over him, but it’s futile. Give it 15 minutes at most before he’s knocked out like a baby. 

Dogs love him. Anytime you’re in a park or just taking a walk and there’s a dog around, it’ll come up to him and he looks adorable leaning down to pet it. He loves dogs, too! So he’s always happy to stop and pet them. He’d be a 10/10 dog dad. 

Has your name saved in his phone with two hearts at the end. Do not point it out.

Loves taking pictures together and if you guys are on a date, he’ll ask someone to get a picture for him. He just likes having them to look back on (and to send to his mom, later).

He doesn’t mind painting classes or videos or tutorials, but he hates paint by numbers kits. He claims that they have no sense of color theory and that it takes the originality and fun out of painting. Not to mention the quality of the paints isn’t great to begin with; all of which he takes very seriously.

It’s pretty cute actually, to see him get worked up over the paint kits. He claims that painting and drawing isn’t even something he takes “that seriously,” it’s just a hobby for him (one he’s insanely good at); but in moments like these, you can tell that he’s way more into art and art theory and history than he lets on. 

Huge movie guy, from animated movies to martial arts movies, Jean is usually willingly to give anything a watch at least once. When he’s high, he can go on about his favorite directors and art styles and movie details for hours if you don’t stop him. It’s super cute. Just don’t bring up Moana, because he’ll start crying. 

Arm around the shoulder kind of boyfriend for sure. It’s a casual way of keeping you near him and letting everyone know that you guys are together. Plus it allows for him to easily pull you into him for a quick forehead kiss when needed.

Listen. If you hug his arm, he’s on cloud nine. He tries to be nonchalant about it but he’s about three seconds away from his eyes rolling back in his head it feels that good to him. Bonus if you lean your head on his bicep a little—then he’s a goner.

He takes his bagels very seriously and believes that both you and him deserve nothing but the best quality bagels. He’ll grumble if a bakery gives you guys a less than favorable one and make a note that taking the long route to get to his favorite place is much more worth it.

Always makes you walk on the side furthest from the cars. If he notices you’re not, he’ll just shuffle behind you until he’s shouldering the street and you’re on the inside. 

He grew up on a kind of modern ranch situation; not exactly all the way in the countryside, but not isolate from the city, either. Because of this, he knows how to ride horses, take care of smaller farm animals, tend to plants, and yes he knows how to use a lasso. You wouldn’t know any of that though, because he never ever talks about it. The only way you find out is when he takes you to visit his mom’s house for the first time, and she asks him for a hand around the place. 

(He’s got a cowboy hat, too, but refuses to put it on. He got it when he was, like, nine, okay, leave him alone). 

When he thinks you look tired, he’ll wrap his arms around your shoulders to hug you. It’s usually followed up with a kiss to your head, and a promise that you guys will go home soon and get food on the way. 

He’s a really good cook. He just understands and flavors and pairings really well, so he doesn’t need a recipe to make something that tastes good; he just kind of knows what to add to get the balance he’s looking for. 

Naturally, he’ll cook for you. Especially if he finds out that you haven’t eaten all day/in a long time. He doesn’t care if it’s 11pm and it might seem excessive to make steak and potatoes with a side salad at this hour, he’s gonna do it to make sure you eat, and you are going to sit there and watch. 

He also bakes pretty well, though he isn’t as experimental with his baking as he is with his cooking. He usually sticks to what he knows, and it’s not cupcakes and brownies and cakes; he’s better at croissants, and cheesecakes, and canelés. 

Dating Jean means getting along with his friends. If you guys didn’t know each other before you started dating, be prepared to be ambushed by Connie and Sasha (after Jean stops hiding you away and gives them the green light lmfao). Neither of them waste time with the small talk and formalities; straight into mini golfing and beer pong. They make you feel welcome right away.

Sasha always teases that you’re too good for Jean, and that she might just steal you away for herself some day. Sasha is also Jean’s main confidant, so she really knows just how much he loves you, and yeah, she teases him for being lovesick, but really she’s happy for Jean. And proud of him for facing his feelings like this. 

Connie adores you, and you know he trusts you when he starts going to you for advice/help. Could be anything from schoolwork, to what color he should get his new shoes in. He’s also the one who, surprisingly, you have the sentimental talks with about your relationship with Jean. It’s easy to overlook, but Connie loves Jean, and he’s come to love you too; he just wants you both to be happy, so he’s there to listen when you need it. 

Jean waits outside of your classroom after you’ve had a test or presentation, usually with a drink or a snack, or the promise of taking you out as a treat. Always tells you he’s proud of you, and is there to comfort you if you think you didn’t do too well. 

He does not shut up about whatever major you’re in. It could be the same as his; it could be the complete opposite as his. He thinks it’s so sick that you’re doing it, you make it look cooler, you make it look better, and he’s certain you’re the smartest person in your program. 

He’s pretty serious about his studies, too, so he’s always down to study with you in the library whenever you’re both free. More often than not, he shows up after you, usually with food or extra chargers. He greets you with a kiss on the forehead, and asks you how you are while massaging your shoulders gently. If it’s been a while since you took a break, that’s the first item on the list, after that, he gets to work and stays with you until you’re ready to go, even if he doesn’t have as much work to do. 

He always sits across from you. This goes for when you’re in the library, or out to eat at a restaurant; Jean loves sitting across from you. He gets to see your face the best that way, and he adores looking into your eyes when you talk. 

He’s not... not a morning person. He’s not up at 6am ready to grind, but he wakes up before noon; let’s say 10am is his happy medium. That being said, if you wake up before him, regardless of the time, there’s a 9/10 chance he’ll lay on your back and tell you to hush so you guys can sleep for 10 more minutes. 

If you’re (close) friends with Eren, Mikasa, and Armin, Jean is... happy you’ve got people to rely on, but, “Of all people on the planet, you put your trust in Jaeger?” He acts so bitter (because he is), but deep down inside, he’s glad you have Eren to rely on if you need to. 

(Also, you have to humble him and remind him that he and Eren aren’t all that different. If you like him, why wouldn’t you get along with Eren, bye). 

Turns out though, that it’s not Eren who threatens to beat him up if he breaks your heart. It’s not even Mikasa, although, her threat goes without saying; it’s Armin he’s terrified of.

The last time Armin hated someone, it was this guy in your program, who happened to share a few mutual classes with him, too. Jean never knew the full story, just that he’s pretty sure that kid dropped out the following semester. 

If you have a job on campus, Jean usually doesn’t show up while you’re working (knowing how embarrassed he would be if you did that to him), unless you work the night shift and it’s dead. Connie, however, does show up; usually in some kind of crisis (“Please help me, I don’t know what the fuck APA formatting is and this is due tonight, please, please, please!!”). Your coworkers actually thought Connie was your boyfriend for a minute. That’s when Jean starts showing up more lmfao.

He makes it a point to go on a scheduled, night out, kind of date at least twice a month. He knows life gets busy with school and work and midterms, but he always makes sure you both set side a time to take a well-deserved break and be with each other. 

He’s the romantic type, so these dates are pretty swoon worthy, too. Drive-in movies, nice dinners, classy art exhibits, Jean plans it all. On that note, he really likes planning dates; he just doesn’t like talking about them with his friends beforehand. 

All in all, very romantic, very precious boyfriend. He’s always thinking about you, what you need, and how he can help you out. You’re one of his main priorities, and he just wants to treat you right. 

[wizkiddx]

hiiiii !!! if you are accepting requests at the moment, can i ask something about reader and tom expecting a baby, one day while he’s drunk she sees him flirting with another women and when she confronts him he snaps at her and tells her he’s not ready for this “shit”. So they broke up and broke contact for months, until he shows in her apartment regretting his words and they talk but she suddenly at that moment gets into labor?!? I remember seeing a concept similar in a movie but I would love if you couldn’t bring it to life! Thank you so much in advance, appreciate your work a lot 🧸🤎

right so I loved this so much it has become a multiple parter and im not even going to apologise. so thanku so so much anon for getting me out a little rut!!!

summary: when toms caught out all hope looks lost - probs part 1 of 3 but it could get a bit longer too lol

warnings: serious angst, reference to abortion, cheating, a whole lot of swearing (im British sorry not sorry)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hi babe, just to let you know Yamna’s invited me out for dinner this evening so don’t worry if you get home early and im not back! I love you x”

It was a spur of the moment plan, which was a rarity recently. The past 5 months since you’d found out, you could name barely 5 occasions you’d been out past 8 oclock- trading your heels for fuzzy slippers and dresses for massively oversized tops and joggers. It wasn’t how you had expected to be spending the summer before your 25th birthday but it was now your life. The rooftop bars, the wild nights, the get aways had all sort of been cancelled for… for the rest of your life.

Because an 8 month pregnant belly isn’t something you can ignore.

Sure…. it wasn’t the plan. Not the plan to be pregnant with your boyfriend of only 6 months, who at the time you didn’t even live with. But you were making it work. And now, you were just excited. It was the start of a new story with Tom, and you’d got past the phase of being sad and mourning your youth. Because the little bubba inside of you, she was pretty awesome and you really couldn’t wait to meet her.

So yes, you had been home alone eating ice cream from a tub when Yamna knocked on the door. She’d been one of your best mates for as long as you could remember so when she’d turned up unannounced with mascara smeared under her eyes you’d cancelled your plans of a pathetic alone evening. Her boss had just given her the sack - which was no surprise. He was a backwards tory old git who couldn’t handle the fact Yamna was a woman doing the job better than he could ever dream of.

So yes, you’d suggested going out to the fancy new bar down the road - to celebrate the fact she no longer had to put up with the arsehole. Obviously you couldn’t drink and neither did Yamna, but you go to a bar for the atmosphere - and the selection of mocktails they had was insane.

Your boyfriend Tom was already out, he said he had a meeting and then dinner with some execs he needed to shmoosh. Of course you didn’t mind, but he had been working a lot recently, in order to be able to have the time off when your baby girl arrives.

So after sending a little text and giving Yamna another hug to try and turn the evening from disappointment to celebration you walked out the door with a smile on your face. Maybe you could pretend, just for an evening to not be pregnant and whale-like?

///////////////////////////

The bar was just a 10 minute walk so it wasn’t long before the two of you were soaking up the atmosphere. It was all decorated in a rustic fashion, with old exposed wood and dangling lightbulbs from the ceiling and the drinks were incredible. The type that have dry ice or flames or some other sort of fantastical display of edible decorations. Even Yamna had perked up, especially when a guy from the table across had bought you both a round of drinks.

“I’m just gonna pop to the loo.”

“Do you really need the toilet or do you just want to parade infornt of the fit rich man who keeps looking at you?”

“ Is both an option?” You laughed as Yamna slipped off her stool, winking rather dramatically as she did so. She was unbelievable - but at least this way she wasn’t thinking about her work, or lack thereof, anymore.

Happily you sat scrolling though your phone, seeing that tom had messaged you with an okay, before flicking through instagram.

And that was where the happiness ended.

For in a hurried manner, with a face looking a lot more ghosted than when she left, Yamna took her seat again.

“Are you okay?” Immediately your worry took over, the way she was biting her lip and not meeting your eyes not helping.

“I um yeh-yeh. Just I think I saw Tom.”

“Tom as in my Tom?” Her almost guilty looking nod had your scrunching your eyebrows, why was it such a big deal Tom was inside?

“He didn’t see me I don’t think but er… he just looked pretty close to a girl and I-“

To be honest you stopped listening at that point, heart dropping out the bottom of your chest. Because it made sense, he had been so distant recently and even if you’d been lying to yourself that it were work - this seemed much more likely. Whilst nodding along, pretending to listen to Yamna, instead your attention was solely focused on fiddling with the promise ring he’d got you after the two of you decided to keep the baby. He’d been so committed, so ready for this unexpected news. He’d said he was in for the long haul.

“Y/n?”

“sorry I um… it’s probably just a work colleague he needs to sweet talk. I’ll um-I’ll just go say hello.”

“I’m coming with you.” She spoke astutely, very much forcing herself into the situation.

“No no I’ll… I’ll come back if I need you, just wait here.”

Her face was so grim and destitute, as much as you were pretending it was okay - you knew it wasn’t. Before Yamna could protest further, you slipped off your seat ( clumsily thanks to the elephant belly) and walked with fake confidence back inside.

It took you barely 3 seconds to hone in on Tom, call it mothers intuition. He was on a booth in the corner with 5 others on his table but none of whom you recognised. It was 2 other guys and 3 girls - the six all paired off in mathcingly initimate conversations. Apart from that you payed almost zero attention to the others, attention solely focused on your boyfriend and the girl he had his arm round.

She was everything you weren’t. She was skinny - you, as previously mentioned, looked like you had a beachball stuffed under your top. She was blonde with sleek and perfectly styled waves at the tips of her long her - yours was thrown into a messy bun due to the last minute plans.

Most importantly - right now she was wrapped in Toms arms, whilst you stood alone watching.

God knows what came over you, but with confidence you never normally had you marched up to the table, just waiting at the end. One of the men you didn’t recognised, arrogantly asked you ‘can I help you’ - but you completely disregarded it, eyes solely fixed on Tom. He took a moment more to look away from the leggy girl, but as soon as he did his eyes grew massively wide.

“Y/n I-I-“

“Fancy bumping into you, I thought you were out with work executives?” Frantically casting his gaze across the table, you could see the cogs whirring to try and come up with an explanation.

“No I-I was but then Charlie here came over, we used to be mates at school and-“

“Oh fuck off Tom., I cant deal with this right now.”

You didn’t even have the energy to listen to his clearly fake excuses as to why he’d landed himself in that situation. You also certainly did not have it in you to maintain the strong face, you could feel everything shattering inside of you.

Because it was so blindingly obvious by how he had acted. You’d caught him out and you both knew it.

And it fucking hurt like hell.

So you exited the bar as fast as physically possible, hearing the shouts of both Yamna and Tom behind you. You didn’t know what you needed in that moment - except that neither of them were the answer. Tom though, presumably the faster of the two, managed to catch up - grabbing your arm to make you halt in the road.

There was this moment between the two of you that time almost seemed to freeze. The two of you, in an otherwise pretty empty residential street, at 9:30 at night, in a moment that you would never have again. From your point of view, you saw the slightly bloodshot and bleary eyes, widened with panic and fear. For Tom he saw the floods of tears down your cheeks, which you hadn’t even noticed were freely streaming.

But in that moment there was, at least, the slightest bit of peace. The slightest bit of hope - that he could explain, that he had some ludicrous but valid reason for the situation you had walked in on. Just a smidgen of hope that this were recoverable.

But then he had to open his bloody mouth.

“Y/n I swear nothing-“

“That didn’t look like fucking nothing!”

“It was I swear! We just-“

“Tom this is your one and only chance. I don’t care if your off your face, if you don’t give my a miracle of a reason as to what the fuck THAT was - then I’m gone.”

“Don’t say that Y/n, you don’t mean th-“ He tried to grab your hand which you snatched away, like you had just scalded it on a hot plate. Like he had hurt you.

“I swear to god I’ve never meant anything more. So cut the shit.”

“FIne-fine! Um so we were at the meeting and then on the way out I bumped into George and hes been a good mate of mine for years.” All you did was hum, arms crossed and making sure you had a metre of distance between the two of you.

“So he said god you look like you need a drink and I agreed because its been stressful as hell recently.”

“Oh its been stressful; for YOU has it? I’m so sorry Thomas, has it been hard for you while i’ve been throwing my lungs up with morning sickness? Has it been stressful that I’ve been running on zero hours sleep because she kicks me all bloody night? ” Your words were laced in a posioned sarcasm, to which Tom just stammered to.

“Please just let me.” Given he was supposed to be fighting for you, he sounded pretty darn defeated already.

“I said yes to the drink.” He skipped out the bit that had angered you, to which you rolled your eyes at. “And one turned into two and more and then I don’t know-“

“Your going to have to try a lot harder than that.” You deadpanned, taking a small step further back still.

“I mean it! The girls were all his friends and we were just talking.”

“Just talking? All pressed up and arms round her?”

“Yes!” As indignant as he retorted, it didn’t not make up for what you had seen with your own eyes.

“Your such a bullshitter Tom!”

“God why wont you just listen to me?” He cried, wobbly doing a little 360 on the spot, in what appeared to be exasperation.

“Because your just spouting fucking lies! And you try and blame it all on poor little tommo being stressed which is-“

“I HAVE BEEN! Running round after you! I’m just tired of this shit!!! So kill me, for having one night of freedom!”

Tom was too deep in his angry lecture to take any notice of you. Which is why, once finished, he waitied, breath heavy and nose flaring. He was waiting for you to scream back at him. To give it back. He was too drunk to notice the change in your demeanor.

“I’m tired of this shit.”

It was just reverberating round your head. Again and again and again. He was tired of your relationship and you hadn’t even become parents yet. He was at his wits-end and the baby was still unborn. What the fuck was going to happen when baby arrived? Clearly there was no hope. It was dead. Your relationship was dead with no chance of revival.

Because he’d said it. Your relationship was shit, and nobody can put up with something they hate for that long. Not 18 years. Not while bringing up a child.

So with a new sense of dread and fear and complete and total isolation you uttered three single words before hysterically running away.

“Don’t follow me.”

Not now, not ever.

?to be continued?

~~~~~~~~~~gahhhh I hope u enjoyed! I also REALLY CANNOT THINK OF A NAME FOR THIS MINISERIES --> if anyone can think of something pls inbox me!!! ~~~~~~~~

tom taglist: @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08 @prancerrparkerr @wildxwidow @Elishi03 @arctic-monkcys @Ownbauer13 @tomhollandlol

[yoonpobs]

bad boy good thing | drabble i. | m

WARNINGS. jealous jk, jk's gf is hot and he's not the only one who thinks that, jimin and tae as instigators, i swear jimin and jk love each other, fucking in public spaces aka a car in a parking lot, jk luvs his gf, appearance of perpetrator jin!

NOTE. i missed this couple 🥺oc is living her hot girl summer life and jk does nawt know how to deal with it Lol. hope u enjoy loves!!!!

WORDS. 3k+

“I’m okay,” Jungkook murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as he repeats his own personal mantra. “I’m good. I’m fine—I’m chill. Chillest person ever. I’m good—”

“He’s not okay,” Taehyung snickers.

Jungkook blocks the negativity out, purposefully and intentionally. Nothing could ruin his day—not on his watch, especially as the sun shines over bodies across the beach while the waves break into beautiful fragments that he’s yearning to dip his feet into.

Personal affirmations came first.

“I’m good, I’m fine, I’m okay,” he chants like a crazy person, definitely earning some form of side-eye from the people next to him but he can’t be bothered. Another person thinking that he was insane wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to him—not when—

“You should open your eyes,” Jimin says, “How are you going to fight them if you don’t know thy enemy?”

Immediately, Jungkook’s peace is disturbed by the mouth of Park Jimin, who painfully reminds him of why he’s got into the entire personal mantra and affirmation thing. He used to think it was redundant, unnecessary. How could the universe return your wishes just as you’ve uttered them into the atmosphere? It didn’t seem logical to him.

But right now, that didn’t matter—not when he had bigger things to be worried about.

“Don’t disturb my peace,” Jungkook snaps.

“They did it first,” Jimin retorts, cocking his head towards the flock of people at a certain part of the beach, specifically towards where the water meets the shore.

Jungkook’s eye twitches. His peace is disrupted, his happiness is compromised and it’s all Park Jimin’s fault. He spent a good amount of time getting into his zone, reaffirming himself that he was in fact, fine, good—he was okay! But now, he feels all his resolve dissolve when he realises he can’t even see the main thing that was responsible for his dilemmas.

“You’d think a celebrity was on this beach,” Taehyung snorts.

“Not helping,” Jungkook says dryly.

“So isn’t your crazy person chanting,” Jimin points out, “but yet, here we are—listening to you reciting your own version of a biblical verse.”

“I’m fine,” Jungkook grits for the umpteenth time, and no less is his assertions any more convincing than it was a moment ago. The flicker of his irises towards to crowd is enough to prove that fact. “I’m just enjoying my day at the beach with my friends and my girlfriend.”

“See, there are two false statements in that,” Taehyung tilts his head downwards, offering a smug smirk that Jungkook wishes he could shove into the sand beneath him. “You’re definitely not enjoying this because I can see the veins protruding out of your neck at how hard you’re clenching your jaw, and”—the older boy makes the effort to taunt Jungkook further by letting out a low whistle the moment the crowd seems to grow slightly bigger—“you’re partially right about the friend part. Your girlfriend though … where is she?”

I’m good. I’m okay. I’m cool—

“Oblivious, as usual,” Jimin sighs, plopping back onto the beach towel beneath him while shooting Jungkook a pointed stare. “It’d be sad if you only called her your girlfriend for six months when you’ve been in love with her for seven years.”

“Okay that’s it. I’m going there,” Jungkook declares, huffing as he pushes himself off the ground while Jimin makes an effort to grab at his ankle, halting the younger boy from causing any damage and potentially getting them banned from ever returning.

“Not with that temper you aren’t,” Jimin snaps, “Sit your ass down. God. Can’t you take a joke?”

“A joke?” Jungkook splutters, abhorred. “You literally just said she’s going to break up with me!”

“I said that it’d be sad if—”

“Same fucking difference,” he hisses, rubbing a hand across his face before he kicks Jimin’s petty grip off his ankle while levelling him with a menacing glare. Jungkook’s eyes slowly drift to the side where you finally enter his vision, still smiling like the soft and sweet person you were as you help Namjoon with whatever crab hunting mission he had.

See, Jungkook’s mature enough to know that you and Namjoon were good friends, great ones, even. The two of you were smart and clicked well, and if anything, Jungkook was more envious of the fact that the two of you shared such a wholesome and meaningful friendship than anything else.

The fact that Namjoon used to have feelings for you didn’t bother Jungkook anymore, not when he knew where your heart truly laid. He also trusted Namjoon with his entire life and his firstborns (not that he’d ever tell you that, and God—did he hope that day would eventually come when it came to you). But still, Jungkook was mature—he did some growing up, and he was proud of that.

But Jungkook’s human, a flawed, ever-learning and constantly improving human. A human who’s crazy in love with his pretty girlfriend that he’s longed for years—and a human who isn’t blind. A human who can’t ignore the fact that, apparently, he wasn’t the only person that was trying to keep himself in check at how stunning you were. Every day—and especially today, with how your dainty yellow bikini drapes over the curves of your body.

Jungkook nearly cries. Yellow was his favourite colour. You wore it for him.

Not for—

“Maybe you should head over,” Taehyung murmurs, snapping Jungkook out of his love-filled mind as his eyes clear, immediately catching what his friend was referring to.

Some dude. Talking to you. Smiling at you like you carried all the answers to all the world problems as you giggle a tune comparable to birds chirping. Maybe Jungkook was exaggerating but it always sounded like you were singing his favourite song even if you were just explaining economical concepts to him like a soothing e-book.

“God, why couldn’t she have been ugly,” Jungkook groans.

“You wouldn’t have dated her otherwise,” Jimin retorts.

Jungkook gawks, affronted as he gives his two friends a scandalised expression as he places his hands over his chest to indicate the offence he took to that statement.

“I’m not superficial,” he huffs, “I fell in love with her because of her—”

“Personality, yada yada,” Jimin mocks him in a lower tune that has Jungkook glaring at him. “Yeah, okay. But don’t tell me that her being pretty doesn’t help you bust a nut every once in a while.”

Jungkook flushes.

“Well, yeah, but I’m her boyfriend—”

“Thank you for reminding me that you are in fact, still a boy,” Jimin rolls his eyes, “Men. Mansplaining everything, really.”

Jungkook’s jaw slackens as his eyes briefly land on Taehyung’s figure who doesn’t look too bothered with how the conversation turned out as he shrugs in response.

“How about you do the typical manly thing of being a jealous prick and go over there and stomp over all her fan club members,” Jimin says sarcastically, resting his arm over his eyes to shield them from the sun.

There’s a brief rustle from where the sand meets the towel, and a relatively long period of silence while the only thing that permeates the air is the sound of waves with laughter coming from a family a distance away.

“He did exactly that, didn’t he.”

“You need to stop giving him ideas,” Taehyung sighs, plopping a grape into his mouth before occupying the space next to his friend. “Should we find another beach to frequent?”

“Really?” you laugh, “That’s so cool! I’m actually planning on landing an apprenticeship there over the summer.”

“Oh?” The man is leaning way too close to you for comfort, but you’re unfazed. Jungkook doesn’t even want to know where the hell Namjoon had gone, leaving you with this broad-shouldered, terrifyingly handsome man. “I could definitely put a good word in for you if you’d like.”

You beam, appreciative rather than brazen. But Jungkook thinks the man doesn’t know that.

“I don’t think I can accept that, Seokjin.”

And of course, you knew his name.

“Why not?” Seokjin smirks, and Jungkook knows that it’s definitely done him justice in other situations. “For a beautiful—”

“____,” he interjects, smoothly (or not quite) sliding next to you as his arms wrap around your waist before his glare rests on the man before him, who looks both shocked and unbothered at his appearance. “Who’s this?”

You jump slightly at Jungkook’s arrival but relax when you realise that it was just him and not some other beach weirdo.

“Jungkook, this is Seokjin! He actually attended our university—”

“Really,” he says dryly, “That’s nice.”

“Is this your …?” Seokjin looks Jungkook up and down before settling with a rather unimpressed look. “Do seniors usually bring their shadows out for playdates?”

Your eyes widen at his patronising tone, and before can even think to correct him with a tilted frown, Jungkook’s fingers dig into your waist, a precursor to his jaw that clenches while he engages in his own version of a staredown with the man before you.

“Boyfriend.”

Seokjin raises a brow.

“Me,” Jungkook blinks, unnerved and quite frankly, tired. He’s crossed this bridge enough times, and it’s always the same. Some older dude who thought that you were doing charity work by having Jungkook tag along with like some puny little brother. “I’m her boyfriend.”

“Jungkook—” you start, softly reaching to grip his arm.

“Interesting,” Seokjin says offhandedly and Jungkook knows it’s anything but. “Well, my offer still stands.”

He’s directing it to you as you peer up at him with your notoriously innocent eyes. Jungkook hates that this douche is still unaffected by his blatant declaration of the fact that you were—taken.

“I—that’s fine, Seokjin,” you say softly, lips curling into a thankful smile before he nods.

The look he sends Jungkook is nothing short of unimpressed, and Jungkook’s thinking of clamming the dude into the sand and quite literally, bury the hatchet with him. Sure, he was handsome and broad, and undoubtedly ripped—but Jungkook trained to benchpress twice his weight so he could beat up assholes who tried to hit on his girlfriend.

Right before he leaves, Jungkook calls for his name—intentionally calling him Seokmin—noting the way his face drops into a scowl.

“You’re not her type.”

He scoffs.

“And you are?” he throws back, brows raised as a challenge.

“That’s why I get to hold her and you’re walking away.”

With that, Seokjin doesn’t bother responding to Jungkook, especially in the way that you gawk at your boyfriend’s blatant warning to the older man.

He titters off, and it’s effectively just you and Jungkook standing by the shore while you briefly see the way Namjoon stutters before deciding to return to where Jimin and Taehyung lays.

Jungkook’s still seething in his rage, clenching and unclenching his fists even though he got the last word. It wasn’t that he thought you’d elope with Seokjin and leave him—he trusted you wholeheartedly and vice versa. He knew you loved him and so did he.

It had more to do with the fact that Seokjin saw you, and eventually, him—and thought that Jungkook wasn’t fit to be your boyfriend. That he saw a gorgeous girl on the beach and expected her to be single, and if not—to be with a boyfriend that had his shit together and not … not Jungkook.

“Jungkook?” you say quietly, tugging at his elbow while you peer up at him with wide and apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry.”

It’s no good, the fact that you’re apologising. As if you were responsible for his insecurities when you’ve done nothing but shower him with love and support ever since the two of you started officially dating.

“Don’t apologise,” he says stiffly, though his heart isn’t angry—he can’t help the way his words get out. “It’s not your fault.”

“But—”

“If you apologise then you’re gonna piss me off, baby,” he says lightly, peering you down with a small smirk as your eyes widen.

“I—okay,” you say weakly, and before he knows it, you’re intertwining your fingers with his, eyes suddenly twinkling in a way he’s grown all too familiar with.

“You have the keys?” he murmurs softly.

You nod, blind and in love as you sigh.

“Take care of me?” you ask sweetly, and Jungkook forgets all about Seokjin when he has you right in front of him.

“O-Oh, fuck—Jungkook—ngh—”

Maybe Jungkook really was a crazy person, but he’d argue that you were equally as crazy to oblige to indulge in his lewd fantasies. He was crazy, for you and your cunt that was like nirvana, and it’s proven further when he fucks into you at a brutal pace, uncaring whether or not the car shakes with the exertion of the activities that were taking place in it.

It could be the fact that he had a decade worth of fantasies to play out, but he knows that he plays a huge part in opening your sexual nature and he couldn’t be happier about it, especially when you unabashedly throw your head onto your chest, whimpering with the dirty squelches of his thrusts that echo in the vehicle.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he growls, hand wrapping around the back of your neck to force your glassy eyes to look at him.

The look on your face is enough to get Jungkook even more riled up, your flushed cheeks and swollen lips while you nod your head manically, crazy—and his.

“Y-Yours,” you whimper, and just about then, Jungkook brings your hips down with his free hand and meets you with a sharp thrust that has your mouth dropping open and your face scrunched up in pleasure. “F-Fuck, J-Jungkook.”

“No one gets to fuck you like this,” he hisses, pressing a hot kiss to your neck as you whine, hips involuntarily swivelling to meet his fast pace. The car is shaking and it’s all too risky, Jungkook knows that—but his rationale is clouded with the antagonising face of Seokjin. “No one gets to see you like this. Only I do.”

“Y-Yes!” you sob, clutching onto him as he feels your pussy tighten viciously around him, the walls of your inner linings spasming as Jungkook hisses at the feeling. “Only you K-Kook. Only ever want you.”

Jungkook believes you, especially when you desperately hold onto him as he feels himself slowly reach the edge. He knows you are too, especially when your whines get higher in pitch, and your tugs against his shoulders get tighter. He knows because he’s learnt about your body as your boyfriend—and he’s the only person that will ever get to have you like this.

The thought, paired along with the risk of your situation only fuels his determination to get you off, his strong arms immediately wrapping around you to root you into place as he shoves his cock deeper into you.

“Come on, pretty girl,” he croons as you mewl in pleasure, breathless whines turning more desperate as your eyes flutter shut. “You wanna show me how much you want me?”

You nod manically, your pussy fluttering around his length as he grunts in exertion.

“G-Gonna—pleasedon’tstop—fuck, I-I’m cumming—!” you cry, tugging your face into the crook of his neck as Jungkook bites his lips in focus, all ready to accept your hot pleasure and his own.

“Come for me,” he encourages, lips hovering over your earlobe as you obey his orders, head thrown back as he watches your mouth drop wider and your eyes roll to the back of your head, pussy tightening around his length.

Jungkook thinks you’re beautiful. On days where you don’t feel like you do, but he may be biased to say that he thinks you look absolutely stunning for him like this. When he knows that he’s the one responsible for your reddened cheeks, the way you so desperately cling onto him whenever you’d orgasm (the only person that would ever know this fact about you), and the way that you’re left breathless, satiated and with that hazed expression after his resolute efforts.

Jungkook cums shortly after, with those exact thoughts plaguing his mind. He was so whipped. He really only had to think of you and he would get hard, and having you right above him, soft and warm with your arms draped loosely over his form made his heart all mushy and soft despite the way his cock stands erect.

You mewl in oversensitivity although you don’t complain. You never do, whenever Jungkook cums after you. Even now, when Jungkook comes down from his high with pants of his own, his own mind-clearing while his cock softens in you—you remain patient. Patient like the ever-loving, wonderful girlfriend that you were—one that Jungkook wasn’t sure he deserved.

“Wow,” you giggle, forehead resting against his as you return from your own post-orgasmic bliss. “I can’t believe I let you fuck me in a parking lot.”

Jungkook flushes, reality sinking in when he realised that the two of you weren’t hidden from plain sight. While the idea of being caught was definitely arousing, Jungkook knew he wasn’t too keen on having anyone see you delirious, even if it was all for him. He was lucky enough that your bikini top remained on the entire time, but both your sweaty bodies were enough of a dead giveaway.

“I just,” Jungkook tries to explain, words slurring in embarrassment as you raise a brow at him. “You look really pretty today.”

You stare at his forlorn expression as if admitting that pained him. Jungkook feels slightly embarrassed at how he reacted, and if you notice this, you don’t point it out—yet.

“Wore this for you,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to the mole under his lip. Jungkook’s heart soars at your admission even if he knew that. “You know it’s only for you, right?”

Your question is purposeful and Jungkook shamefully looks to his lap, and even then—you’re still connected. He slowly pulls out, wincing when his cum threatens to pool out of your pussy, but before he can pretend to clean you up, you’re putting your bikini bottoms back in place and clamping your hands over his cheeks so that he’d look at you.

“Jungkook,” you say sternly.

He sighs.

“Yes,” he groans, feeling a lot like a child who’s being berated. “I just—God. He was such a prick.”

“I know,” you say gently, fingers combing through his hair while he melts into your touch. “There are a lot of pricks out there, but you know that I only love you, right?”

Your confession is the same as the one you’ve made six months ago, and just last night before the two of you fell asleep—but it’s a confession that Jungkook never grows tired of.

“I know,” he mumbles as you giggle at him. “It’s just that … he really thought he had a chance with you, and when he saw me it was like—”

You frown, finger pressed against his lips to stop his rambling as he peers up at you with doe-eyes.

“None of that,” you chide lightly, “I don’t care what people think. The only person I care about is you, and no one will change that, okay?”

Jungkook feels himself relax into your touch, especially when you lean forward to capture his lips in a soft kiss that isn’t set to lead anywhere. He remembers. He remembers the times where you were unsure and all too worried of the words of others—and here you were, with him and with your gentle and loving soul, the embodiment of comfort as you tell him the words he’s always known but needs to be reminded of.

“I love you,” he says quietly as you grin widely at him, “Sorry for—you know.”

You roll your eyes, lifting your leg to get off his lap as you wince at the cum that threatens to escape your lips.

“I mean, it was kind of hot,” you shrug with a small smirk.

“God, I’ve created a monster,” Jungkook snorts, looking over at you when you shoot him a devious grin.

“You love it,” you throw back cheekily, leaning into his shoulder as he wraps an arm around you with a sigh.

He does. And he knows that he’s the only one that you’ll love back.