#and all those moments in it will feel like a guilty pleasure

[antizenin]

𑁤 VISCERAL CHOKEHOLD ⋮ HIGURUMA HIROMI

no one ever thought you would make it this far, and maybe you wouldn’t have withought higuruma’s help.

( fic demographics. ) jujutsu kaisen, higuruma hiromi, dark content & sexually mature | minors, ageless & blank blogs : do not interact & 16.3k words !

➛ law professor!higuruma hiromi & law student!reader, professor & student relationship, insecure!reader, power imbalance, large age gap, toxic and verbally abusive relationship, dubious consent (manipulation), dacryphilia, blowjob, minor finger sucking, hardcore degredation, face slaping, rough sex, choking, unprotected sex, featuring hitman!fushiguro toji, private investigator!nanami, and lawyer!shiu kong as your father, alluded character death, etc.

( dedication. ) this is for my babes @murderofravens requesting this piece. it's still my favorite piece so far !

When people talk about your father, they speak nothing but praises, saying how he’s such a beast in court. They glorify his name and how he's gotten the innocent to roam freely on the streets again. They praise him on his judgment, bringing justice to the right people and condemning the guilty in the process. His voice would boom in court as he swayed the jury’s mind, his deep and commanding tone something that had people right under his thumb. He had great relationships with the judges and made plenty of enemies with lawyers who secretly sought to be like him. When women heard his name, they were scampering in hopes to get a moment alone with him.

He often found himself perched at the bar, sitting on a stool as he leaned against the counter where the bartender would pass him a glass of sake. It was a little celebration ritual that he had whenever he won a case, which was quite often. He grabs his pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his brown suit jacket, lighting one up as the butt of it would sizzle and red sparks would light up ablaze. He’d buy a drink for himself and the man he just set free, this one being Toji Fushiguro.

“I don’t think I could thank you enough,” the man with a scarred lip smiles, taking the glass of bourbon and barely putting it to his lips. He appreciated the courtesy, but he didn’t really enjoy drinking. Didn’t find pleasure in it. Shiu could see that, noticing how the glass always rested in his hands and when he did bring it to his lips, it stayed at the same level.

“Then don’t,” he chuckled, downing his glass in one go. “Bourbon not your cup of tea? You ordered it.”

“Yeah, I did,” Toji shrugged. “Didn’t want to make you feel bad to be the only one drinking.”

“Well, I still am,” Shiu chuckles. The rest of the night goes without much conversation. Shiu drowns out the stress of today’s case, letting it dissipate with shots of whatever liqueur he was craving next and the buzz of nicotine blackening his lungs. He loved the scene a bar could give him, a chance to people-watch strangers and get their life story just from how they spend their time. His favorite person to watch was a woman around his age, always here around the same time he was, just like clockwork.

At first, he thought she was one of those women that liked to flock around him after learning that he was a well-established lawyer. However, he doesn’t quite think so. Her eyes would flicker to him every so often and they always seemed shy— not the one anyone would try to feign. She’d grow easily flustered, but never unmoving. Neither of them had taken the first step at approaching each other, only enjoying the lingering gaze when the other thought they weren’t looking. 

“For some hot shot in the courtroom, you seem pretty pathetic right now,” Toji chuckles, finally taking a swig of the bourbon in his hand. He found the scene grotesque, watching his lawyer that was so domineering in the courtroom get all shy for a woman. Watching the both of them eye-fuck each other made him nauseaus. “Just go up to her.”

“Mmm,” Shiu shuffles on the stool, eyes trailing back to the stunning woman. He’s always talked himself out of it, even now. “It doesn’t seem like the right moment.”

Toji can’t help but chuckle at that, eyes flickering from Shiu to the woman. “Right now seems like the perfect moment actually.”

However, Shiu remains still, belligerent on his choices. Considering the lengths that Shiu went to ensure that Toji didn’t land himself in jail, it seemed fair that the lad try to do him a favor in helping his lawyer land the woman of his dreams, even if it’ll only be for the night. The grazing of the chair legs against the wooden floor calls for Shiu’s attention as Toji stands up. “If you don’t, then I will. She seems to be my type as well.”

“What?” Shiu’s quick to his feet, watching how Toji sauntered over to the beauty herself. There’s no stopping the taller man, seeing how he approaches her and is quick to strike up conversation. Her eyes light up talking to Toji, and Shiu’s about to lose hope believing that the man had swept the woman off of her feet. He takes his seat back at the stool, back facing the two of them when he hears feet approaching him. He feels like he’s back in his teens again, shying away from what he wants. 

“Did you come back to gloat?” he asks, beckoning the bartender over for another glass. A soft and feminine chuckle calls for his attention, that glum feeling quickly reverting to disbelief. The fine dime herself standing right before him as she’s fidgeting with the bangles around her wrist. She’s prettier up close, her curly hair out and sporting an afro as it rises in volume. Beautiful skin that the blue lights don't do justice to her skin tone. Her lips shine under the light when she smiles, lined in a shade or two darker than her complexion underneath the gloss. 

She’s nervous, he can tell, but she bats her eyelashes cutely as she tilts her head to the side. “No, actually I came to see if you’d like to have a drink with me.” 

Shiu has come to learn that her name’s (Y/M), a foreigner from America visiting Japan for vacation, but considering moving here permanently, trying to see if she could possibly qualify to teach English. (Y/M) learns that Shiu is a lawyer who’s contemplating on opening up his own law firm at some point, and that she’s managed to captivate the eyes of someone who could potentially financially secure her for the rest of her life if she’s willing to go on a couple of dates with him to see where this will lead. Toji’s long forgotten by now, but Shiu makes a mental note to thank the bastard when he gets the chance. Toji has found his way out the door shortly after his exchange with the woman, sure that Shiu’s got the bill covered. 

Shiu brings (Y/M) to his house not too long after. Hands roaming her body as her moans make his body melt into hers. It was an unforgettable night and it created a lasting future, where Shiu never planned to start his legacy so soon. However, with (Y/M)’s announcement that she’s pregnant brings him nothing but joy the moment it falls from her beautiful lips. He reassures her that she’ll never have to worry about a thing. And he’s made sure to keep his promise for the most part, rarely being her source of stress despite the amount of disagreements they’ve had. He is always trying to appease her in every way possible. It seems like the uncontrollable slowing the both of them down, one of them being you. 

Shiu always wanted children, a legacy to carry out his name with someone he loves. While he never anticipated having a child so soon within the relationship that’s barely started, he was more than ecstatic to have you, much to (Y/M)’s surprise. Shiu had ensured that her stay in Japan became permanent, buying a ring to decorate her left ring finger and marrying (Y/M) as soon as possible. He made her pregnancy a breeze, hiring a helper inside his home to aid with the household duties. When (Y/M) finally went into labor, Shiu made sure that she had time for herself during postpartum, not enjoying how she’d curl up in a ball and cry her eyes out in his chest, believing that she’d be a horrible parent. 

The issue wasn’t that you were a difficult child to take care of. No, you were easy, and maybe that was the issue itself. You were too easy. A saint and the apple of both of your parents’ eyes. The problem came when you were older and there wasn’t anything particularly… extraordinary about you. You didn’t have anything that really captivated anyone’s eye— no talent, no hobby that you found yourself hyper fixated in, nothing that called a spark within you. You were average in your studies to say the least. Shiu made sure to hire tutors whenever you were struggling with a certain subject. You didn’t really care for afterschool clubs or anything involving sports— you didn’t like to sweat, yuck. No, you just enjoyed mundane and locking yourself inside of your room despite both of your parents’ persistence in spending time with you. 

When people spoke about Shiu Kong, it was all praise and glory. However, when they spoke about his daughter, his only child, they hesitated to come up with the right words to say. One finger on their lips as they pondered how to sound polite. You were just average. There was nothing special about you and because of that, no one saw the potential that you could possibly have. 

Unfortunately, they never took the time to realize how their constant scrutinizing would impact you. How when they whispered about you, you would take notice of their quick glances immediately. How their smiles never met their eyes when they spoke to you and their compliments were fake, their pitch a bit too high to sound authentic when you showed them something you were doing. You hated it and wished that one day, someone would tell you what they thought right in front of your face with confidence. But, that day has yet to come. 

It brings you to shame that your parents can’t even be truthful to you. How they spoke to you so lovingly for years about how you had such a bright future ahead of you, but behind closed doors, they sounded concerned for your future. 

When Shiu and your mother believed that you were sound asleep, having tucked you in and told you goodnight already, they were downstairs doing their habitual night time ritual. Sitting at the dining table, they’re next to each other with a glass of red wine in front of them. Shiu swirls it as he looks inside the bulbous glass, watching it swivel around at his motions. His wife was sitting next to him as she had yet to touch her glass. Something was plaguing her mind and he knew that he had to pry it out of her with a simple question. “What’s on your mind, honey?”

Finally does she let out the heavy sigh that’s been residing heavily on her chest, forcing her down into a slump. Her posture straightens from what you can see, peeking from just around the corner. You’ve gotten better at this, seeing how they’ve yet to catch you in a heartbeat. “I’m worried about her, Shiu.”

“About what exactly?” He knows exactly what, but he always found it better when (Y/M) spoke out her thoughts, said everything from the depths of her soul. When she couldn’t find the right words, he’d help her scour for them.

“About her future,” (Y/M) sighs, afraid to admit this. “She’s not a very bright child.”

At that, your eyes widen as you let out a gasp. You had to cover your mouth in fear that they heard you, but they’re so immersed with each other, it leaves you in the clear. Your heart starts racing as your feet move involuntarily. Your steps manage to remain gentle as you climb them back and head back to your room. Unbeknownst to them that their daughter had overheard their conversation, Shiu and (Y/M) keep talking. Shiu’s head tilting in concern at the confession as he frowns. “What do you mean by that? (Y/N)’s a very…”

(Y/M) gives Shiu a knowing look, proving her point. “See? You can’t even finish your sentence.”

“Yes, but our child isn’t a dunce,” Shiu scolds. “Sure, her reports don’t reflect positive grades from time to time, but she gets the help she needs.”

“And what happens when she can’t get that assistance, hm?” (Y/M) retorts. “What happens when she takes her exams and they don’t positively reflect on her homework scores and project reports, then what?”

“You’re being ridiculous, (Y/M),” Shiu raises his voice, setting the wine glass down at his wife’s ridiculing of their daughter. “She’s only eight years old, and she’s not dumb. She just has a hard time grasping certain concepts. It’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

“Yes, but what about everything else?” (Y/M) rebuttals. “She doesn’t partake in the activities and events other kids want to participate in. She doesn’t show interest in any clubs or sports. All she does is lock herself up in the room all day when she gets the chance! She doesn’t even want to eat dinner with us!”

“Yes because her mother is calling her dumb behind her back!”

You’ve never witnessed or heard your parents argue, even on that same night. You immediately shut the doors and climbed back underneath the covers when you were back in your bedroom, the pillows clogging your ears and silencing everything as you sobbed yourself to sleep. The next morning your dad was nowhere to be seen, having left for work early because he couldn’t stand to be in the same vicinity as his wife. 

(Y/M) felt worse as the day went by. Shiu always made sure that the weekends were reserved for family time and for him to willingly head to work, she knew she was in the wrong. Looking over at you, it didn’t make it any better. Especially when your fork clinked against the plate as you finished your food, carrying the empty dish to the sink as the silence of both you and your mother ate at you. “Where’s daddy?”

She took your plate, turning on the water to rinse it off. “At work.”

��He’s never at work on the weekends,” you note, stating the obvious. Your mother could only sighed, “There’s a first to everything, my dear.”

From that point forward, you always tried to put in a little more effort. You took up clubs and activities that you found interesting, committing to them for the entirety of your childhood all the way to graduating high school. Though, nothing really changed as you never found anything that sparked joy within you. 

You’ve found that out of your two parents, you found yourself a true daddy’s girl, enjoying his company the most. Even if the two of you would just watch crappy television shows in silence. It brought you comfort. So, when it was time for you to choose what you wanted to major in, you had finally decided on something— that you’d follow in your father’s footsteps. 

The topic of college became more frequent once you hit high school. (Y/M) and Shiu would always ask you what you wanted to do, or what you were thinking about doing, but you always shrugged and said that you were undecided. Your father always kept such a nonchalant gaze before looking back at his phone, but you’d always see that annoying glint in your mother’s eyes. (Un)fortunately for her, in junior year, you finally made a choice. 

“I think I’m interested in pursuing law.” You said it so nonchalantly that it caught both of your parents off guard, having them stop in their tracks. You— you want to pursue law?

When Shiu said he wanted a child to carry out his legacy, he didn’t specifically mean that they had to follow in his exact footsteps. He meant he wanted a legacy where those who descend after him all end up in a decent position. Frankly, he didn’t think you were cut out for law. You didn’t have the personality for it. You weren’t timid, but you were quiet and you never really raised your voice for anything. You had to be someone domineering in the courtroom and he didn’t see you as one. However, that didn’t mean it was too late for you. 

(Y/M) didn’t see your potential. She had made that very clear all those years ago, and people always feigned brightness when it came to you. However, if you were serious about this, he’d help you every step of the way and help you where you needed to go. (Y/M) wore an incredulous look all over her face, standing in disbelief as she choked on her words, wanting to talk you out of it. However, Shiu beat her to it.

“Okay,” he spoke, reciprocating the same nonchalance you sported. “Do you have any idea which university you want to attend?”

With your father’s eyes on you now, granting you the attention you never thought you’d get, you grow shy as you squirm in place. “I was thinking about Kyoto University.”

“Ah, you wanna follow in your old man’s footsteps, I see,” he winks at you, chuckling as he straightens his posture. “Well, you work on what you need to do to apply, I’ll sort out everything else.”

“Mhm,” you hum before trotting back up the stairs. When you’re finally gone, (Y/M) finally breaks the silence. 

“Shiu, you can’t be serious,” she chastises her husband for entertaining you. (Y/M) had come to accept who you are, that you’re just an average girl and that perhaps you didn’t need to make it as big as her husband is. However, for you to pursue law? It sounded ridiculous. There was no way you’d be able to survive such strenuous studies, especially in one of the top schools for law. They had a rigorous law program.

“Oh, I am,” Shiu sits up. “If she says she wants to pursue law, then let her.”

“Aren’t you afraid that she’ll crash and burn?” (Y/M) hates how he’s been so monotone about everything. How he doesn’t even seem to be concerned for your well being. How is he so willing for you to just make a decision that seems so abrupt? Just a couple of weeks ago, you were still indecisive and today you just got up and decided that you want to become a lawyer? (Y/M) shakes her head, dropping what she’s doing as she rests her elbows down on the kitchen counter, shutting her eyes. “I can’t believe you're entertaining this.”

“You can’t believe I’m entertaining what?” Shiu cocks up an eyebrow. “You can’t believe I’m supporting our child’s endeavors? Weren’t you the one worried for her future?”

“You’re not even listening to me!” (Y/M) groans. “I’m glad that she’s made up her mind, but law? Shiu, don’t be ridiculous, you know she wouldn’t last over a month in those classes.”

“I bet she’ll last the entire year,” Shiu challenges. “And even if she doesn’t, we’ll support whatever she does next.”

“Yeah, until your bank account is drained, then what will we do?” She mutters, scoffing.

Shiu’s fist bangs against the table, frightening (Y/M) and making her jump. He points at her, a harsh glare in his eyes as his dark pupils stare back at hers. “Y’know, I love you, (Y/M). I do, really and truly. But I don’t like the person you’ve become. Fix it before we’re no more.”

—

Shiu would go through the greatest depths of hell for you. He’s come to learn this the moment he finds himself on the phone, contacting the board of admissions in regards to you. And people would question his faith for you, ask him if he really thinks you wouldn't be able to get in on your own, but he only wants to secure a spot for you. You said you wanted to go to Kyoto University, so he’ll make sure you get into it. It’s not that hard when you're an alumni who still makes monetary contributions.

It takes nothing, but a few phone calls to have everything settled. Yet, you still work on your college essays, having your father read them over for you before getting the okay. Considering the growth you’ve had over the years, Shiu can’t say he’s too concerned about you. It’s not like you never tried, using the resources he’s given you each time you needed assistance with your work. Despite your aloof attitude, you have drive. And it makes him feel ashamed that your mother can’t see that within you. 

When you get the letter from Kyoto University, you’re running to your dad first. Meeting him at his law firm and asking him. Never have you voluntarily come to the firm, but when his secretary is telling him that his daughter is waiting for him outside of his office, there’s a spark of joy ignited in him. Within your eyes, there’s glee and excitement as you jump into his arms, telling him that you got accepted. His arms wrapped around you as you jumped into his arms, letting him spin you around in this moment of celebration. A genuine smile on your face as you come to terms with your decision, ready to put in the work in getting what you want. 

That summer when you graduate, you put away your plans of leisure to spend most of your days in the office. You had packed breakfast, lunch and dinner, your dad taking extraneous hours at work. You also have your laptop and a notebook with you, wanting to gather as much information from your father as well as having to complete summer assignments for your upcoming courses. He’s proud of you, seeing you go the extra mile and taking it seriously. 

Your mother’s also seeing how you’re taking this seriously, finally convinced of your choices. She starts waking up with the both of you, preparing your meals and sneaking in extra snacks inside your lunch. Your relationship with your mother has always been something rocky, where the two of you could never truly see each other eye-to-eye. You never felt like her daughter, only someone she scrutinized under a spectacle as she tried creating you in her own image. And you never made her feel like a mother, not accepting her affection and never seeking out her comfort. 

(Y/M) remembers how when you first started your period, you’d rather talk to your father about it. You cried in his lap about the boy who told everyone in the class that you were bleeding out of your vagina. Shiu tried pushing you to confide in your mother, but you refused and forced him to go shopping for menstrual products. (Y/M) had to write down a list of specific products for Shiu to pick up while going to the store with you. Your mother never had thought about the way she treated you until seeing you going to work with your father. She never truly considered how you felt, and though she felt like it was too late, she was trying to put in more effort in showing you that she truly did love you. 

When the summer was over and it was move-in day, (Y/M) and Shiu both took time off to send you off, helping you bring in your belongings and sort everything out just how you wanted. And when it came time for them to leave, Shiu held onto you, afraid to let go. You chuckled, trying to pry your father off of you. “You’re acting like you’ll never see me again.”

“We might not,” Shiu sniffled, hiding his face in your shirt in an attempt to wipe away his tears. You squirmed in his hold until he finally let go of you, seeing how red his eyes were. It wasn’t like you weren’t going to miss your parents, you would. However, it just hasn’t settled in yet.

(Y/M) stood behind you both awkwardly as your father gave you words of encouragement, having you promise him that if you needed any help, you’d contact him — even if it’s to get away with murder. She finally intervenes when she sees that her husband won’t pry away from you anytime soon. “(Y/N), can I talk to you for a second— privately?”

“Yeah, okay.” With a cock of your eyebrow, you nod hesitantly as you step away from your father and head out of the room. She’s fidgeting with her hands, eyes failing to meet yours. She takes a deep breath, sucking in her tears. 

“I want to—” Your mother chokes up, voice trailing off before she’s clearing her voice. “Y’know what, nevermind. Just know that I’m going to make it up to you. I love you, baby, and I’m very proud of you.”

You don’t know what she means with ‘I’m going to make it up to you,’ but you accept her hug. You accept the tight grip she wraps around your body, finally finding comfort in her touch. Even if it’s just for the moment.

College is freeing to a certain extent. No longer under the scrutiny and judgment of family and around strangers, you feel like you’re open to do whatever you want. Legally an adult, where you no longer need the consent of your parents to partake in things that they’d show their concerns over. You can make the wrong choices and come to regret it later without any berating, and you can make a schedule that best works for you. 

You made the right decision on selecting your classes early, having an ideal schedule— Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. With Mondays and Fridays off, it gave you time to study and catch up on things that you might’ve fallen behind on. Four classes within the semester, one of them being a fast-paced class that only lasted eight weeks. Two classes on Tuesday, one on Wednesday and Thursday. It seemed like something you’d be able to manage.

However, some people didn’t share your same ideologies, not planning ahead as you sit in front of those people right now— and it was more so a person. You were sitting with three other incoming freshmen, Itadori Yuuji, Kugisaki Nobara, and Fushiguro Megumi. Of the three, Nobara was the only one in the law program with you. Yuuji was undecided and Megumi was majoring in Biochemistry. The boy with the puppy dog eyes and salmon-toned hair seemed like an angel from the time you’ve spoken to them since they’ve decided to adopt you in their little crew, but not very wise when it came to decision making. Now, you’re watching him struggle to find good classes to take as all the professors left seem to have low ratings. Megumi has his face down in his phone, ignoring Nobara’s snickers at Yuuji’s stupidity, well accustomed to their banters. 

“We told you to sign up for classes early,” Nobara points out. “Hell, we even set up a date where we could do it together, so we’d have days that we can spend together.”

“Yeah, but you know I couldn’t make that day,” Yuuji pouts.

“But when we tried rescheduling, you were hellbent on us not waiting up for you.” Yuuji sighs, knowing that Nobara’s right. Groaning, he can only accept defeat as he scrolls and tries to make a schedule for himself that’s someone appeasing. “Just tell me what days you guys will be free.”

It gives you some solace that you won’t be completely alone, having Nobara in some of your classes providing you a sense of relief as you can both study alongside each other when the time comes. None of your high school friends had applied to Kyoto and some of the students from your old school who were attending weren’t people in your major or you weren’t too fond of. It makes that first day of classes more bearable the moment you step foot in it, finding a seat not too far from the front but not immediately in the back. You set your bag on the seat to the right of you, saving it for your newfound friend when she finally makes it in. 

Higuruma Hiromi— you vaguely remember the name as you could swear that he was a colleague of your father. When you had chosen him as a professor, the thought never crossed your mind until now that you’re sitting inside the lecture room and waiting for his arrival. You’re amongst five other students who’ve arrived early as they’re putting out their laptops, textbooks and a manila folder. What’s the manila folder for— Shit! You immediately slump back in your chair, eyes shutting as you hold your breath. You had completely forgotten to print out the summer assignment as it was instructed for you to do. You had it saved on a USB drive, but you don’t know if this one little slip up will be easily dismissed. So much for starting off your classes strong.

Just in that moment does Nobara walk in, spotting you in a flash and climbing up the steps to greet you. You lift up your bag, not before dropping it in front of you and wailing at your stupid mistake. Taking a seat as she unpacks her stuff, Nobara knits her eyebrows together, something evidently wrong with you. “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to print out the summer assignment,” you groan, simultaneously as you hear a bunch of keys jingling and a set of heavy shoes clunking on the marble tiles. Lifting your head up, you can vividly remember him now. Short and dark brown hair that always looks stringy. He always looked tired or bored whenever you saw him in your youth, his small brown pupils that never gave you a look of emotion whenever you were around. He’d always give you a weak ‘hello’ out of politeness before his attention was fixated back on your father, talking about God knows what. 

Now you’re taking closer notice of him. Average height and a slender build as he walks towards his desk, letting out a heavy sigh that has all the students silent. It’s still not time for classes to start, plenty of students starting to trickle in from behind. You always thought he was paler, but there’s a tint in his skin. He dresses professionally, wearing a typical black suit and tie with a sunflower pin on his left shoulder to signify his previous status as an attorney. 

From what you can remember about Higuruma, he was a fierce attorney just like your father and he only fought for those who were wrongfully accused. Him and your father sat along the same boat of men that were greatly admired in the courtroom. You don’t remember hearing that he retired from being a lawyer and your father never mentioned him working here. You wondered if the two had some sort of falling out. You thought the two were close friends. 

“Don’t worry,” Nobara tries assuring you. “I’m pretty sure he’ll understand. You did do it.”

When class is ready to start, the room is packed with over one hundred students. People are still shuffling to take their belongings out of their bags as Higuruma is getting the projector up and running, giving the students just a little bit more time before lecture begins. You have your laptop open with your textbook set to the side as well as a spiral notebook and a pencil pouch. While Nobara’s words had given you some sort of comfort, sure that he would be understanding, it still didn’t take away that nagging sensation in your chest.

He cleared his throat, finally taking a stand and adjusting his suit jacket. His voice remained calm, yet it boomed and called the attention of everyone from the mic pinned to the jacket. “Good morning, everyone! And welcome to JGVT1101, the History of the Japanese Government.

“My name is Professor Higuruma and please address me as such,” he continues. “This will be one of your first classes with me, but surely not your last as you will be stuck with me throughout your years enrolled within the law program. I will not dive deep about my personal life, just know that I used to be a lawyer and attended this very same university when I was around your age. 

“I will not lie to you and say that each and every one of you will make it to be a lawyer, but I will say that in order to pass my class it is vital that you do everything I say and complete assignments how I expect them to. Starting with the summer assignment, everyone passes them up.”

You feel uneasy as everyone else seems to have their assignments printed out, even Nobara as she hands it to the person on her left as they all pile up into one stack at the front. You’re fidgeting with the bracelets on your hand, pulling at the elastic as you try to bring yourself to focus on anything else but it. 

“I will have the class syllabus going around,” he further announced. “Please make sure to take one and keep it somewhere safe. It has all the assignments listed down and when they’re expected to be turned in.”

The class goes by smoothly until it’s close to the end, where Higuruma sets you guys up with a partner and assigns you to discuss one of the questions viewed on the screen. Perched at his desk, he’s checking off those who have turned in their assignment, seeing that only a few students haven’t had their names marked off. He looks through the list, noticing your name— your last name specifically. Kong. He hasn’t seen that name in a while.

“Kong (Y/N),” he calls your name, pulling the mic hooked to his jacket closer. It makes your head pop in his direction, looking him clearly in his eyes. You’ve grown a lot since the last time he’s seen you. When was that? When you were a little over twelve? He can’t quite remember, but you’ve surely grown. Features more womanly and grown in. At one point you favored your mother, then Shiu the next. Now, you’re a fine mixture of the two— though whenever he did look at you, your eyes vividly came from your father. “Can you explain to me why your paper hasn’t been submitted?”

“Oh, um…” You can feel your heart stuck inside your throat, eyes deviating away from his as you're not sure what to say. You know what to say, but did he really have to call you out in front of the entire class? “I forgot to print it out, but—”

He comes to stand, the swivel chair sliding backwards as he does, cutting your excuse short. “And this class is an example of what I don’t want. How can you expect to get anywhere in life if you show up the first day unprepared?”

“Is that really necessary?” Nobara leans into you with the scrunch of her eyebrows. “He didn’t have to call you out in front of the classroom. I’m pretty sure there’s at least one student who didn’t even complete it at all.”

“Miss Kong, if this is going to be typical behavior from you, I suggest you drop out of my class immediately.”

People around you start to chatter, some siding with the professor and some ridiculing him for calling you out like that. Nonetheless, you grow flustered as you feel all eyes on you. He’s right. If you had just remembered to print out the assignment beforehand, you wouldn’t be in this damn predicament, getting condemned before everyone. You’re only grateful that he doesn’t call your name out for the rest of the class. Only until he’s finally dismissing you all, the name he’s already set for you ringing through the air once more. “Miss Kong, please stay behind. I’d like to have a word with you.”

You can only respond with a meek ‘okay’ as everyone’s trailing outside the door. Nobara hesitates to leave you alone, but you dismiss her and assure her that you’ll be fine. You don’t know what he could possibly want from you. He’s already said what he needed during class. However, you’ll take this opportunity in hopes to plead a little bit of extra time. You just needed to print it out.

Everyone trickles out quickly, leaving the enormous room just for the two of you as you shuffle in his direction, stopping not too short of his desk. He doesn’t say anything for a second, stacking the manila folders into a neat pile and setting them inside of a cart. He clears his throat, eyes flickering to yours before they go back on the task at hand. “Do you think that a judge would accept an unprepared lawyer?”

“No,” you immediately answer, your voice low and dry. 

“Then why do you think that I should accept your late paper, hm?” He pauses, expecting a response.

“Um…”

“A lawyer must always be prepared with a rebuttal,” Higuruma holds his head high. “No stuttering, um’s and uh’s in the courtroom. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Hig— Yes, Professor.”

At your slip up, Higuruma pauses. Glancing up at you with a raised eyebrow as he lets out an exasperated sigh. “How’s your father been? It’s been a while since I’ve last spoken to him.”

“He’s fine,” you shrug. “For the most part. He’s—”

“He won’t be fine if his daughter ends up a failure,” he remarks, setting the last of his stuff inside the cart, pulling up the handle as he throws you a stern look. His eyes squinting low as if daring you to challenge him. However, your mouth’s gone dry as you’re speechless. 

“I— I can have it for you in the next hour.”

“Try thirty minutes,” he rebuttals. “Anything later won’t be accepted. You’re dismissed.”

You don’t hesitate to spin on your heel, hurrying out of the class. You’re practically running out, throwing the door and letting it slam shut on the way out. Higuruma chuckles, watching you rush out of the lecture hall as he finally pulls out the cart along with him. He’ll give you the courtesy of adding ten extra minutes, but seeing the determination written all over your face the moment he gave you extra time, he’s ready to bed that the thirty will be enough. 

Unlike you, Higuruma remembered you clearly as the day when he saw your name on his roster. He didn’t believe it at first, wondering if your name was a common one. Surely, Shiu would’ve called him and informed him that his daughter had decided to pursue law at the same college both of them attended in their younger years. However, since Higuruma had called it quits, he hadn’t heard from Shiu since. 

He never planned on retiring from being a lawyer so soon. No, there was still so much fire in him that yearned to be back on the playing field, but after his last case. He thought it was best to call it quits, the scar residing on his chest being enough motivation to do so. Days that he spent in the hospital recovering as his mother cried over his wounded body. She had warned him about his strong pursuit for justice, to be careful of what he was doing or he’d anger the wrong set of people. He knew that was the case, that being a lawyer wasn’t always the safest career. However, he was passionate about it and couldn’t let it up because the unjust wanted to live freely. Shiu could let them run around freely, but not him. 

Maybe that’s why he hasn’t contacted him after all these years. Maybe there’s guilt residing on his chest after all this time. Higuruma always suspected Shiu’s involvement in his accident, but he could never find enough evidence for it. It led to Higuruma giving up his one man search forcing himself to forgive the man. He couldn’t bear the stress of being angry and having a vengeful spirit. However, seeing you really provoked that anger that he thought was long gone. 

Were you to end up like your father? Higuruma highly doubted it. You were a frail little thing, and he won’t apologize when he says he agreed with your mom. Shiu had called him up one night when they were still friends, confided in him and told him that his wife didn’t believe in you. Didn’t believe that you’d make it far in life.

He’s met you and had a few conversations with you. You were only a child, yes, but the typical child would have an answer on standby when asked what they wanted to be when they grow up. You? You only shrugged your shoulders and didn’t say anything more. He was sure that you’d find a place where you’re wanted— needed— but in law?

Higuruma scoffed to himself. Law did not need another Kong. 

—

“How dare he?” Nobara stabbed at her lunch in anger, the chopsticks ferociously dividing the apple into two pieces in one go. She seemed to be angrier than you about the entire ordeal despite the fact that you told her he had given you a second chance and you managed not to mess it up this time. “I had talked to a few other students and they had said they didn’t submit it, so why did he come after you? I hate a hardass that’s so unfair. How did he even call himself a lawyer?”

You didn’t want to voice your speculations. And you didn’t want to voice that you knew him outside of your classes. You didn’t want her perspective on you to shift, liking how the girl was ready to take up for you. Her bottom lip jutted out in anger, an adorable pout settling on her features as she shoved the piece of fruit in her mouth. 

Megumi sat beside Nobara, for once, interested in the conversation. “I don’t know, that’s weird. I would report him to the Dean.”

You scrunch your eyebrows in between your lunch, still chewing your food. “It was just the first day of classes,” you fan off the situation. “Maybe my name was the first option and he just wanted to make an example to set the tone for the rest of the semester.”

You hadn’t told them every aspect of what happened when he had called you to stay behind. That would reveal too much and surely set Nobara off in flames, seeing how red her face is with anger right now. You were really hoping that this would be a one time occurrence as you didn’t want to have a professor with whatever personal vendetta they had against you. Higuruma was vile and cruel with his words, where they felt completely unnecessary and targeted. However, you pushed your intuition back, not wanting to start the very first year of college off on a bad note. 

“Maybe,” Megumi shrugs. “But you don’t want it to turn into some big thing. Just be careful, okay?”

Later that night, your mom calls you. Picking up the phone, you hold it to your ears as your voice is low. Your roommate had already fallen asleep while you were up, starting ahead on your class readings. “Hey, mom. It’s late, why’re you still up?”

“I should ask you the same,” your mom’s voice sounds. “Don’t tell me you’ve already started studying? Have the professors already started teaching?”

“Yeah, they have,” you chuckled. “Plus, I want to stay on top of things.”

“I just wanted to call in and check on you!” She sounds happy on the other line, and you can’t help but notice the silence in the background. From the moment you got here and they had to leave, whenever your mom initiated a phone call, your dad was always next to her. “Hope you’re settling in well.”

“I am,” you sigh. “Is dad not with you right now?”

“No,” your mom yawns. You can hear the ruffling of the bed sheets move as she’s climbing into bed. “He’s working late tonight.”

“Oh, well,” you start, Higuruma coming to mind. “Mom, do you remember Higuruma?”

There’s a long pause on the other line. Your mom’s heart rating picking up a beat as she hadn’t heard that name in a long while. You have to call out her name again to snap her outside of whatever trance that she was under. “Oh, sorry, dear. Yeah, I remember him. He used to be one of your dad’s closest colleagues. Why?”

“He’s a professor at Kyoto University,” you inform her. “I actually have him for one of my classes.”

“He is?” Your mom’s attention has been called, sitting up in the bed as she’s wide awake. “He hasn’t bothered you by any chance, has he?”

Her question catches you off guard, making you wonder if your mother or your dad have set people to watch over you on campus. More so, your father. How could you possibly know if Higuruma was bothering you within less than twenty four hours? However, you try to play it cool, ready to deny her concerns. “No, I was just wondering… We haven’t seen him in a while and I wanted to know why he never visited anymore?”

Your mother loses her guard for a moment, becoming candid with you— er, giving you half the truth. “Oh, well, after his accident, Higuruma decided to quit law. And we tried reaching out, but we never heard from him again.” 

“Accident?”

“Yeah,” your mom hums. “Some guys didn’t like their sentence and once they were let out, they came after him. Scared Higuruma shirtless, I guess, so he decided to switch career paths.”

“Oh,” you gasped. “I never knew that.”

“You were really young at the time,” Mom says. “We didn’t want you to burden you with something like that.”

Shortly after, you and your mom are bidding each other good night before hanging up the phone. You’re left speechless at the newfound information that it leaves you unfocused. Shutting off your laptop and closing your textbook, you set it aside and crawl underneath the covers. Your mom, on the other hand, still sits up in the king-sized bed, pondering on what she should do next. Never did she think that Shiu’s past would come back to haunt them. 

They made sure to cut all ties with the man, their plan working as the man resigned from his position as an attorney and they never heard from him again. It was planned so meticulously that to this day, Shiu and her aren’t sure whether or not Higuruma had detected it was them. Maybe he had an inkling, but if the man really wanted to go with his gut, they’d soon end up on the floor. 

She didn’t want to burden her husband with the past, but was it really safe that their daughter’s in the hands of a man that they had bad blood with? Scrolling through her contacts before Shiu’s name popped up, her thumb hovered over the call button ready to click it. You said you were fine though, that he hadn’t done anything to bother you in any type of way. So, maybe she should trust your word. Shutting her eyes, (Y/M) throws the phone down on the bed, her face in her hands as she lets out a huff. “Fuck me.”

However, sleep riddles her mind before she can truly think about it. Forgetting her phone, she reaches for the night lamp, pulling at the metal string until she hears that click and the light goes off. When her head hits the pillow, she’s out like a light and the next day. She forgets all about her conversation with you. 

—

You thought it would end there, but Higuruma found pleasure in your torment. Where he’s no longer calling you out in front of one hundred students, but writing snide notes in your assignments, overanalyzing everything that you do down to your vocabulary and grammar. When he asks you to stay back behind class, it’s to further chastise and criticize you for every tiny mistake that you make. 

It makes you lose sleep as you’ve hours past midnight studying, the small lamp over-shining your textbooks as your upperclassman roommate, Maki Zenin, watches you with concern. Oftentimes, she’s warning you, telling you to get rest and buying you little treats to get through the day because she knows you haven’t slept. It’s become such a concern that when Nobara stops by, she tells her what’s been going on. 

It’s the middle of first semester and you’re trying to complete work that’s due towards the end, trying to stay on top of all of your classes, but especially his. Maki couldn’t take it anymore, letting in the younger girl the moment she heard her knock and letting her crash through the dorm room. You don’t even notice as you’re nose deep into your assignments, an impending migraine resting on your head. Nobara snatches the textbook, throwing it to Maki’s side of the room in a rush. 

“Hey! I need that!” 

“No, you don’t!” Nobara immediately barks back. “(Y/N), have you ever eaten anything?”

You hesitate to answer, so you decide not to at all. Since she took your textbook, you reach for your laptop, but she proves to be even faster. Handling it gently, she shuts the screen and clutches it to her chest as her shoulders drop and tilts her head to the side. “You need to quit it, (Y/N). Not eating properly, no sleep? What’s this all about because you and I share the majority of our classes together and the work isn’t as strenuous as you’re making it seem?”

You wouldn’t cave in and confide in Nobara about your worries, failing to meet her eyes. However, she had an inkling that she knew what— or whom— had provoked you to this point. “Is it Professor Higuruma?”

You had never been a good liar apparently, always getting caught in them when you were younger, but you muster up a roll in your eyes as you scoff. “No,” it sounded so convincing that it killed the girl’s suspicion. “I just wanted to get ahead of my work and make sure I’m understanding the material.”

“Well, understanding the material won’t do you any good if you drop dead from exhaustion.” Nobara sets the laptop down on your nightstand, picking up your spiral notebooks and setting them on top of it as she scoots herself on the bed, kicking off her shoes. “We’re going to sleep.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you watch as she pulls your folded blanket from the corner of your bed and unravels it. When she tells you to move over, you do so unconsciously making space for her. “We?”

“Yes, we,” Nobara confirms. “Since you won’t listen to Maki to the point she had to stop me on the way to classes to have a mini-intervention with you, I’m going to make sure that you actually fall asleep. Now, come snuggle up. I heard cuddling helps.”

It does. You and Nobara fall asleep in each other’s hold. It was so cute to witness that Maki had taken a few pictures herself, making sure to send them to you when you wake up. Luckily for you, the next day was Friday, so you didn’t have any classes. You managed to sleep in just fine, but Nobara on the other hand? She forgot that she had a ten a.m. class and was nearly late. She had to run there in her clothes from before and the purse she had brought with her. You felt guilty for making her late, keeping her there for so long because of the mess you put on yourself. You didn’t need to put in this extra work to prove yourself. You were doing just fine in all of your classes, including Higuruma’s. So why were you doing all of this?

You tried to take the day off, to rest and rejuvenate your mind, body and soul. However, you felt an itch inside of you. An itch that berated you for the studying you’ve missed for being so lackadaisical— that time you had allotted for it now down the drain. You reached for your textbook again and opened back your laptop, ignoring the sting in your eyes as you grabbed your notebook and pen. Right back in that loop you’ve put yourself in.

(Y/N), 

Please meet me in my office on Sunday, October 13, 2024. Two p.m. sharp.

Professor Higuruma

Higuruma always prided himself in being a just man, but he knew what he was doing to you wasn’t fair. You had potential in you after all, it seemed. You turned in decent work that didn’t make him want to gag, where it was better than a quarter than the other kids. You were putting in the work surely, always trying to correct the mistakes and errors he had highlighted in red. It seemed like you were seeking his validation through the desperation and lengths you were willing to take. He didn’t need to see it and you didn’t need to say a word, it’s in all of your work. And he can’t help, but boast to himself that he’s managed to tear you down with just using a sentence or two within his “constructive” criticism. He sends the email without a second thought, the corner of his lip twitching upwards in doing so. 

You see the notification on your smart watch, an email from Professor Higuruma. You reach for your phone, swiping at the notification to open and unlocking your phone. Reading anything from him brings a spike of anxiety running down your spine, especially given the fact he wants to see outside of school hours. You don’t think about it too deeply to notice its suspicion in his request, simply replying to confirm that you will be there and playing right into the devil’s hand. 

When you meet with Higuruma, his door is open. Sitting in his seat, he doesn’t look up from his work. He’s slouched forward, small brown pupils that always look exhausted as they flicker to you finally. He fixes his posture, straightening the white buttoned down shirt he’s wearing as he motions you to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. 

From there, he takes you in. You’re not wearing anything fancy, a t-shirt and jeans shorts that he’d deem too short. When you sit, the fat of your thighs join together and make Higuruma come to terms with just how much you’ve blossomed into a beautiful young woman in his absence. He should be disgusted by how it makes him feel, rumbling something deep inside him. He wants you to feel bad for it.

“I see you couldn’t even be bothered to put on something decent,” he comments, clicking out of a tab to lean in the swivel chair. He folds his hands together, clicking his tongue on the brim of his mouth and giving you another once over. “Who’s going to take you seriously if you can’t even come to a meeting with your professor in appropriate attire?”

This guise of preparing you for the real world, for becoming a lawyer— it’s all too easy and you’re all too gullible. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware that this was something really important or not—”

“It’s not,” he retorts, getting up from his seat, he brings himself in front of you, towering over you in a show of dominance. His hands stuffed inside the pockets of his dress pants as he leans against the edge of his desk, putting one leg over his knee. “But, you expect anyone to take you seriously dressed the way you are? Stand up.”

You don’t hesitate, standing up quickly and meeting Higuruma at eye level. He stands tall, a few inches taller than you. He’s taking a risk putting his hand on you, but considering that you’ve let him speak to you like this, he’s willing to test the waters and see. Gentle fingers that take your chin in his hand, forcing you to look directly into his eyes. He can see every flaw within you, every mark and blemish on your skin. Yet, it doesn’t deter the way his cock stirs inside his pants.

“Your father was a good lawyer— still is one— but you…” He tsks, voice getting raspy and deeper as his fingers trail down your neck to your clavicle. Pretty smooth skin is all he feels until he’s down to the hem of your shirt. He stops, trying to make his mind up. However, he’s feeling daring today. “I don’t know if you’ll even make it through the rest of your undergrad years. The work you’ve been handing in— mediocre, at best.”

He’s done more than invade your personal space, invading boundaries and crossing lines that should never be crossed as a professor and you as his student. You should tell him to stop, but the shiver down your spine does the opposite of what you want, making you inch closer to him as your breath hitches. You can feel him— his chest pressing against your chest and something pressing against your stomach. You’re praying that it’s his belt buckle, but you feel a faint stir letting you know it’s something else. His hands travel your body, stopping to graze and draw the shape of your breast. 

“But— But you’ve been giving me good grades.” You knit your eyebrows together in confusion, your grades reflecting one thing but his words another. 

“Yes,” he agrees before his rebuttal. “But good grades won't make you far as a lawyer. Don’t you want to be just like your daddy? Taking charge of whatever case you’re assigned that no one dares question you?”

His question makes sense, making you think about it. You want to make your father proud, and Higuruma was a man that used to stand right on your father’s level. If anyone could show you the ropes and help you other than your father, it would be him. You nod, “yes.”

“Then, you have to do everything I say,” Higuruma says. “Would you do anything I told you to?”

You take a minute to process, daring to look away before his hands are back on your face, harshly cupping your jaw and forcing you to keep eye contact before he’s repeating his question. “Would you do anything I told you to?”

“Yes,” you finally respond. After all, you’ve been doing it so willingly before. Higuruma grins, appeased with your response as he slowly nods. His grip on you loosening before finally letting go. 

“Good,” he hums. “You’re to meet with me every Saturday at two p.m. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you say just above a whisper. His back is to you as he’s gathering all of his stuff. You spend a moment right there, unsure of what you should do next until he’s glancing behind him. He chuckles to himself inwardly. You’re so easy. Were you always this compliant with your parents? “You’re dismissed.”

The next time you speak with your parents, it’s in person. You’ve been listening to Nobara a bit more, taking breaks when needed. Though, Higuruma always stood in the back of your mind berating you. Somehow, he’s gotten ahold of your personal number, sending you messages and reminders that you must be studying and always aiming high if you want to be one of the best lawyers in Japan. His voice, it’s always lingering and berating you for moments of leisure like this. However, your mom and dad had been badgering you to come home and visit them as you’ve been slowly losing contact with them because of your extraneous schedule. 

At the front door, you punch in the code before you hear the click of it opening. When it swings open, you’re immediately comforted by your mom’s cooking. The mouth watering aroma of a home cooked meal puts you in a trance as your feet make a bee line straight for the kitchen. Your mom’s standing behind the stove with her back to you as she hasn’t detected your arrival. In the pot is a meal that reminds her of home, something she made for you often as a child and still to this day. 

A simple graze of her shoulder is enough to make her jump, a high-pitched scream coming from her lips before she’s spinning around and making the hot oil splatter against you and causing the both of you to scream. She slaps your shoulder when she finally calms down, grunting in annoyance. “Don’t scare me like that!”

“I didn’t mean to,” you can only retort, grabbing the kitchen towel to wipe off the cooling oil as your nerves settle down. When the both of you are in a calmer state, your mom pulls you into a hug. 

“Oh, how I’ve missed you!” she coos, pulling away to take you in. “I didn’t expect you to come in until a bit later— are those eye bags? Have you not been sleeping properly?”

You fan away her hands that try to reach out and touch them. You groan, not feeling like talking about the subject matter. “Don’t worry about it. Where’s dad?”

The devil himself responds with, “he’s right here.” You can hear the rough shuffle of his feet pattering down the steps. “What was going on earlier? I heard screaming.”

From the small towel over his head and the wet t-shirt, it’s evident that he just came out of the shower. Your mom props a hand on her hip, side-eying you. “Oh, nothing. Just your daughter scaring her dear old mother to death.”

“It was an accident,” you roll your eyes. “I just touched her shoulder and she jumped.”

Shiu chuckles, making it to the kitchen and pulling you in for a hug. “(Y/N), you have to be careful. You know how jumpy your mother can get.”

The rest of the evening goes on smoothly as your mother finally calls you and your father over for dinner. Three plates prepared, your mother sets them down on the table as you’ve had the silverware and glasses set from before. You lean to give your mother a kiss on the cheek before sliding in your seat. “Thank you, mom.”

“Yes,” Shiu agrees. “Thank you, dear.”

“Mhm,” she chirps, finally setting down her own plate and sitting around the table next to your father. Her eyes are vibrant as she scans the area, happy to have her two prized-possessions with her in the same room again. “Shiu, can you start with the prayer?”

Halfway through your plate, your father looks over at you curiously. The bags underneath your eyes and your occasional yawns— it reminds him of his years in college. But, you’ve barely called and reached out to him as he was hoping. It made him concerned. Were you too scared to ask him for help even though he had blatantly told you he’d help you in any way, shape or form? “How have your classes been? Surely, they’re not stressing you out as much yet.”

“Oh, they’re stressing me out,” you snort. “But… nothing I can’t manage.”

“You’re not struggling with any of them, are you?” Shiu asks. “You haven’t reached out to me at all. Are you sure everything’s fine?”

“Yeah,” you reassure your father with a nod. “I’m passing all of my classes currently. And I have one of my professors offering me help outside of class hours to help me out.”

“Oh, really?” Shiu raises his eyebrows, leaning back in his chair. “Which one? I might know them.”

“You do,” you confirm. “You remember Higuruma, right? He’s a professor now, but I’m sure mom already told you about it. He’s offered to help me out with studying.”

Shiu stops eating, resting his fork gently against the plate as he knits his eyebrows together and looks at you, intaking this vital piece of information. He then glances at his wife, wondering how she could’ve forgotten to inform him of it. His wife fails to meet his eyes, forcing him to look back at you. He can’t help but repeat himself, “Oh, really?”

You nod, not noticing the scrunch of your father’s eyebrows and how heavy the atmosphere has turned. He tilts his head in curiosity, wondering the safety of his child within his old friend’s hands. “And you say he’s offered to tutor you?”

You hum in confirmation. “Yeah—”

“Honey,” Shiu stops himself, thinking about what he’s to say next. He doesn’t want to alarm you about the matter, and he’s not too sure himself if Higuruma will be a liability. The way you say it with confidence, not an ounce of fear in your mind. Is his old friend truly looking out for you for the greater good? Does he want to take this chance? “I’m not too sure about that.”

“Shiu,” your mom reaches for her husband’s hand, dissuading him from saying anything more. At the way your parents look at each other, it calls for your attention, finally aware of the suffocating tension lingering in the air. 

“Why? Is something the matter?” you ask. “Mom told me about what happened to him, and he seems fine now—”

Shiu shoots his wife a glare, a simple action that speaks so many words. “Don’t worry about it, honey. It’s nothing you need to fret about.”

Your father stands up, his plate unfinished, but he’s decided that he’s had enough. “I’ll do the dishes, baby.” 

He bends down to his wife's ear, planting a kiss against her temple before whispering, “we’ll talk about this later.”

—

Higuruma can prove himself to be a gentleman with you, in instances such as now where he has you on your knees, standing right in front of you with the door to his office locked. He’s got himself pressed up against you, his erection touching your face and forcing you to feel him. You decided to listen to him, wearing something more business casual in a button-up blouse and pencil skirt that had Maki questioning your whereabouts. You never did end up telling her just where you were going, heading straight through the door. 

He’s caressing your face, pushing away at your braids. He had undone your ponytail, pulling the clip away to see how it fell past your shoulders. You’re a pretty sight to see like this, so obedient and following every word he says. The lights in his office are dim, but they illuminate against you. It’s as though your skin is glowing, dazzling beautifully as he’s got your cheek pressed against his erection and rubbing himself against you. 

Even in proper attire, you manage to make it so sexually appealing. His eyes squinting down in disdain as he tuts out a sigh. “You just can’t seem to do anything right. I guess you’ll be one of those lawyers that sleep their way around to get what they want, huh?”

You shake your head in disagreement, making Higuruma laugh. “Oh, but yes. I’ve got you on your knees right now, looking like whore, so I believe it’s safe to assume what you’re destined for— C’mon and undo my pants for me.”

You should’ve expected it the first time you had come in for your study session, that first Saturday, he did nothing but graze his hands all over your body as he tested you on the material. Who were the most important people in the Japanese dynasty during the Heian era? When did it come to fall? He would ask you all while his hand was on your thigh, inching up and between your legs to cup your heat. You would falter and stammer on your words, feeling his hot touch embedding itself into your skin. Whenever you came close to saying a word, he’d apply pressure and glide his finger down your covered heat. 

You were ashamed of yourself. Of wanting this, not telling your parents the full truth, not telling your friends either. Nobara was no longer suspicious, though Higuruma was nowhere near being one of her favorite professors, but she backed off and was no longer checking up on you as she frequently did at one point. But maybe she got tired of your lies and no one longer deemed it her concern. 

However, the lust discarded all of that said shame, enjoying the way this older man makes you feel at the swipe of a finger and how his degrading words have created you into someone you could no longer recognize. You could only guess that you weren’t moving fast enough for his liking, feeling his hand come up to grip your jaw roughly and pulling you closer to him. “Aren’t you listening? Take off my pants and suck my cock like the filthy slut you are.”

Your hands tremble as the reach for the zipper of his dress pants, fingertips ghosting against his hard length. Your eyes move to flicker from him down to it, where you can feel that familiar feeling grow inside of you. That flutter deep inside your stomach as arousal pooled onto the center of your panties. You failed to wear a pair of protective shorts underneath, your legs squeezed tightly together as your juices seep through and stick to your inner thighs. Feeling that metal tab, pulling it down. You grow more daring by the second, hands moving to cup his length through the undergarment and fondle it. 

You can see how his chest constricts, stopping his breath as he loses himself for a moment. But only for a moment does he shut his eyes, feeling the way your hand is gentle and causing more precum to leak from his tip, before he’s bunched up your hair together and forces you away. You try to contact the high-pitched screech that leaves from your lips. “Do you think you’re the one in charge?”

Tears prickle out from the corner of your eyes as you shake your head, your voice squeaking when you utter out, “no.”

“Then, what’d I tell you to do?” He asks.

“You told me to undo your pants.” Your heart’s beating fast, squinting your eyes as you feel the tears fall before they flutter back open to stare into Higuruma’s. For the first time, he looks so alive, and you take pride to know it’s because of you.

“Did I ask for anything more?”

“No,” you sob.

“Do I have to punish you?” Higuruma hums. “Give you a good spanking and leave that good pussy soaked?”

“No,” you croak. “Please, no.”

Gosh, he can’t help but revel in this. He has you begging. He hums some more, pondering over just what to do with you. “Maybe I will leave you all high and dry, but not before I get what I want. Since, you’re so incompetent and I have to do everything myself—” He tugs down his pants just far enough where it’s right above his knees and brings his underwear down along with it, his cock slapping against his abdomen. “—Hm, suck. Don’t use your hands. Keep them where they’re at.” 

His shirt’s still on and hanging down loosely. He grips himself at the base, where it gives you a better peek up his shirt, where you can see the dark hairs of his happy trail travel to his cock. You see how’s sort of let go of himself, his pubic hair untamed. His grip on your hair is still strong, forcing your lips to touch the tip of his cock where pre stil leaks from him. The sticky translucent substance paints your lips with it. Slowly, your mouth opens and he takes the opportunity to make it wider, shoving his cock deep inside your mouth until you’re full of him. 

He’s got a set of girth to him, making your mouth stretch open widely as his tip kisses the back of your throat. The mushroom-shaped head of him basking in the feeling of your mouth wrapped around him. Your mouth hollows around his length, trying to accustom yourself to the ache that’s already beginning to settle in. With one hand on your shoulder, Higuruma pushes you further down on your knees as he presses himself into your warmth. How your eyes water so beautifully as another set of tears become to showcase themselves. It causes him to groan, having a young thing like yourself in his grasp, all for him to use and take advantage of. 

“The only thing you’re good for is to cry while you take cock,” Higuruma groans as he forces you off his length, watching you inhale deeply. He’s being kind by giving you this rest period, taking a moment to get your features like this memorized. How you already look a mess. “I can see it. You sprawled out on a judge’s desk, pleading with them to make you win. Legs wide open and your pussy begging to be fucked. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Bet you’re fucking soaked.”

Sheathing himself back inside of you, Higuruma groans. “‘M gonna fucking love this. Getting to use you just how I want and cum in that pretty mouth of yours.”

You can barely breathe through your nose with the force he’s using on you, pushing your head down so deep within him that what you can intake is his smell. His earthy cologne still lingering on him as well as his natural musk. Again, you should feel ashamed. You should feel ashamed for how your pussy trembles, your juices soaked to no salvation. You’re careful to go slowly, your hands going unnoticed when they travel in between your legs to cup yourself. You’ve imagined this plenty of times before from the moment you started these one-on-one tutoring sessions with him. You wondered what it would like to feel him, what his cock felt like inside of you— whether it was in your mouth or your pussy. 

You wanted to know how it would feel stretching you out and how good he’d fuck you. Nights where you’d play with your pussy, hoping that Maki was fast asleep and didn’t hear the toy that was trapped in between your legs. You’d conceal your moans that dared to slip out, hips bucking as you were close. You’d picture it was Higuruma— your father’s old friend and now professor— making you feel this good. And when you came, you were too scared to make a move, falling asleep in your own mess and hoping that by the next morning, the stench of your release wasn’t as potent as it was in the moment. 

Now that you’re below him and getting mouth-fucked by him, it makes you moan out as you stick your hand underneath your skirt, the fabric riding up and barely covering your ass. Fortunately for the both of you, the door is locked. However, if anyone were to come in right now, they’d see your ass on display with your hands right in between your legs and happily sucking off your professor, a man more than twice your age. It would be a pretty sight to behold, watching your pussy drool so selfishly as you play with your clit as Higuruma face fucks you.

His hand in your hair, a slight pain throbbing in the back of your head as he controls your movements altogether. Your head bobs up and down as you moan like a whore under him. He has to lean against the table every so often to get a hold of himself, seeing you like this makes him feel like he’s young again and can’t withhold himself. He pants and grunts, his chest rising and falling as his eyelids grow heavy. He sees the roll of your hips, finding that your hands have snaked in between to touch your pussy. He won’t stop you. No, instead, he chuckles as he rolls his hips into your mouth. “Fuck, you’re such a dirty little whore. Who am I kidding? You’ll amount to nothing the second I’m done with you. Look at you, touching yourself.”

He says it like it’s a sin, spitting it out with so much venom but inside you, his cock twitches. Resting his weight against the desk, he drags you along with him, making sure you never leave his length. He ignores the way you gag around his length, sputtering out in pain as you whine and mewl before his hips move faster. You have to catch air as quickly as possible with the amount of force he uses. 

The sounds of blubbering and wet skin sounding from the two of you echoes inside the office. Your pussy clenches as you grind down into your hand, a finger snaking between your walls as you can slightly bounce against it and wishing that it was Higuruma’s cock instead. Your eyes shut tight as you let the tears seep down and dry onto your skin. Your high-pitched moans reverberating against your chest and to him, his arousal pooling into the back of your throat as he hits at your uvula repetitively. All throughout, your desperation to make it through the years pours out of you, greedily taking what Higuruma gives.

It feels like he’s the only person who’s told you the truth to your face. You’re not smart enough; you have no ambition; you’ll amount to nothing. It all pours into your head, your mother’s words, the feigned feelings from family and family friends as they ultimately agree with her. Someone’s finally said it to your face, and you’re coming to accept it. And through your desperation to prove them wrong, but never Higuruma, you’ll do whatever it takes to have them biting at their own words. 

Spit pools from the corner of your lips, trickling down your chin as your head looks up at him with a look of determination set in your eyes. It piques his interest what’s made you snap, but doesn’t question it when he feels your tongue grazing the shaft as you finally put in some more effort. Your tongue tasting that vein than ran down underneath, making Higuruma take in a deep inhale. No longer does he have to force you down his length as you meet his thrusts with eagerness and his grip loosens. 

“That’s right,” he breathes. “Fuck, be a proud whore and get me off.”

You feel like, after one hit, you’ve become addicted. Fingers stuffed inside your pussy as you multitask with getting him off as well as yourself. Your chest rises and falls and you can feel yourself so close, getting so close to hitting that brink. However, Higuruma stops you before you could, a set of words that have you wondering if sorcery is real. “Don’t you dare fucking cum. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop right now.”

And just the obedient girl you are, you stop with a whiny mewl. Simultaneously, Higuruma pulls out of you, leaving your mouth empty. 

“Let me see your fingers,” but as he says so, he reaches for the hand tucked between your legs and brings it up in the air. Holding your hand by the wrist as he sees how your index and middle finger’s coated in your slick, making them glossy as a string hangs in the air. 

“Clean them off,” he demands, shoving your hands in your face and near your lips. “Taste how much of a dirty slut you are.”

He watches as your lips wrap your fingers inside, making you taste yourself as you hum in delight. He lets go of your wrist, a firm grip around the base of his cock before he’s ejaculating. Wet and lubricated all thanks to you, he’s gripping the back of your neck and holding you still, making your head lean back. “Be a good girl and—”

You don’t let him finish, lulling your mouth open and sticking out your tongue. Shit, you’re fucking gorgeous like this, he can’t help but think to himself. Fucking his fist, he can feel himself getting closer. Holding you still with a visceral grip, his cock so close to his mouth, he feels himself twitching as that euphoric feeling returns and makes him feel young again. He spurts his seed inside your mouth, white shooting inside and some splattering on your face. You moan out without shame, opening your mouth wider as he continues to leak himself inside of you. “Fuuuck,” he breathes.

Falling from his high, Higuruma comes to his senses as he looks down at you. You haven’t cleaned yourself up, afraid to move. He bends down to pull up his pants, his cock softening as he makes his way over to his desk. Sitting back in his seat, he doesn’t make eye contact with you. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get yourself all cleaned up and get out of my office. We’ll see each other next Saturday.”

—

Being a private investigator means constantly being at discomfort. Well, that’s what it means for Nanami because as he captures each picture of you and Higuruma in such compromising positions, he grimaces. Hired by Shiu Kong, he’s known well throughout the world of law, but also in the underground where the darkness prowls freely. Ties that follow the Zenin clan, he’s a person who’s gone untouched and will continue on remaining so in this world of dirty politics. With every snap of the camera and in such an uncomfortable position, he’s not sure how to reveal to his boss what his daughter and ex-friend have been doing behind closed doors.

Your father decided to give Higuruma some grace— sort of. He hired Nanami to essentially watch over you, see where you go and watch Higuruma’s movements. He didn’t want the blonde to immediately report to him, to simply gather up all intel on the dark-haired bastard before making a sound decision. Maybe, just maybe, Shiu could trust you in the hands of Higuruma. Never did he expect your hands to be all around Higuruma.

Nanami made sure to select the most appropriate photos of the bunch he has of you and the former colleague, watching his boss open the manila folder and take it in— take it all in. A calm before the storm settling in as Shiu looks through each and every photo before he’s at the last one. Then, when he shuts the folder closed, he throws it across the room, all the photographs flying around haphazardly. “Why didn’t you show me any of this sooner?”

“You gave me strict orders not to, sir,” Nanami reminds him, fixing his spectacles. “You made me make sure of it.”

Shiu pinches the bridge of his nose. “One thing you need to know, there’s always a time where you must break the rules— AND NOW WAS ONE OF THEM!” The seat he was in is thrown backwards, now on the ground as he hovers menacingly over Nanami. He huffs and puffs, face reddening with anger. 

“Shit,” he curses, hiding his hands in his face. He feels like he’s at the brink of tears. How stupid. How stupid of him to let his guard down. “What am I going to tell my wife? How am I going to explain to her that this—” he gestures towards the thrown down photos “—has been going on for months?”

He starts pacing around the room, hand tangling in his hair before throwing his head back and muttering, “I’m going to kill him.”

Reaching for his phone, Shiu skims through his contacts until he lands on the familiar name— Fushiguro. 

—

Months have passed now as winter break draws near. You’ve just finished your final exam, now able to gain some peace as you walk alongside Nobara as the two of you head towards the courtroom. You roll your neck to stretch your body from hours of sitting and stressing. Nobara moans as she hears the crick of her muscles, “Oh, I’m so glad that that’s over with. I’m exhausted!”

“I just want to eat something, then pass out,” you grumble, hands shoved inside of your hoody as you follow alongside her. At the mention of food, her eyes light up as she spins on her heel, grabbing you by the shoulders. “Speaking of food, you wanna go get hibachi? There’s this restaurant not too far away from campus—”

At that moment, your phone vibrates in your pocket, a message from Higuruma popping on screen, but his caller ID underneath an entirely different name. His message is simple: 7:30 pm. Be there. “I’m sorry, Nobara, but I can’t. Something just came up.”

Nobara frowns, crossing her arms. You’ve been talking to some guy, you’ve admitted it, but you never go into complete detail. All Nobara knows is that once he texts, you’re ready to drop everything to run to him. Within her fair share of relationships, never has she been so compliant towards her man’s every request. “I don’t like this, (Y/N). You’re always dropping everything to see this guy and we never have time to hang out with each other anymore. It’s like, once I get you out of the books, something else steals you away from me.”

You frown, feeling guilty, but you can’t miss this. You always tell yourself that, not wanting to go receive any form of punishment from the older man. “I’m sorry, but—”

“That’s all you can say!” Nobara grows agitated, letting you go and turning her back on you. “Y’know what? Just… Just go.”

And you do, without further hesitation. 

You body lies down underneath him so pliant, your body so willing to give and respond to him as your legs are wide open. Though it may be on your body, his pussy is displayed open for his sight only. How your folds glisten like porcelain and how you clench in desperation for him— for his cock to fill it up. Such a pretty and disgusting little thing you are, always coming back to be used how he wants and never objecting to a word he says. Never saying no. 

He finds it pathetic. He finds you pathetic. 

It’s pathetic how as time comes to pass, whenever you look at him, there’s a sense of need in your eyes. Your mind becomes distorted as you long for him by the second. How your mind has come to jumble up together to form these thoughts inside your head that he’d seek out a relationship further than this. How in the past, you’ve confessed to wanting more and while he tells you how pitiful you are, you always come back. You always come back, seemingly hoping and praying that someday he’ll give you what you want. 

However, every time he looks into your eyes, he sees your damn father and he knows he can never give you more. Not just because of the restrictions, but because he doesn’t want to. 

When you were waiting inside his house, giving you the spare key so that you could hurry inside and get out of the sight of possible nosey neighbors, you were so patient. Laying on his bed with your body sprawled out naked the moment he stepped through his bedroom door, gracing him with the presence of his living fleshlight that he’s come to use and abuse. He’s still got his clothes on, simply pulling down his pants and underwear for his cock to spring free and explore that tight pussy of yours. 

How it always manages to snap back into place, making him have to stretch you out all over again baffles him. By the many times he’s fucked you, he should have it shaped to the exact size and measurements of his cock. He barely preps you, pushing the head of his cock at your entrance and listening to the way you writhe and whine underneath him in pain. Your eyes shutting as you cry like you always do. He grins maniacally as his hand comes to wrap around your neck, holding onto it and forcing your head deeper into the soft cushion of his pillow. 

He silences you through the constriction of air, your cries now silent as he bottoms out inside of you. Your mewls cut short as you can no longer breathe, and the sting to your face always comes as a shock. With the steady rock of his hips, your pussy clenches around him and sucks him in tightly as you roll your hips languidly, feeling the oxygen return into your lungs. 

Higuruma doesn’t want to admit that you have potential. Potential to be a good lawyer. Doesn’t want any guilt to consume him for how he’s made you feel, so fucks into you until your pussy’s all battered and molded back to accommodate him perfectly. You’ve done better than most of the students on your exams, both midterm and finals. You never needed much help from him, you never did. But while your score sits at the top, he has to remind you of your place. That you’ll always be beneath him. 

“You think that a good score will carry you on for the rest of your life?” He leans down to grab your bottom lip with his teeth, biting down on the delicate skin as his grip around your neck tightens. He drills into your tight pussy, knowing that his brutal words always make it flutter. “You’ll get nowhere. You’ll always be eating the scum at the bottom of my shoe.”

He chuckles darkly, it echoing through the room as the wet sound of skin slapping against skin vibrates through the air. The stench of sex wafting through as your mixed arousals seep through. He leans down to your ears, nibbling against the skin. “But I’d bet you’d love that, too.”

He slaps you again, the headboard of his bed, hitting the wall repeatedly as the impact sounds through with everything. “Filthy fuckin’ whore.”

Deep in your mind, somewhere far deep within, it’s telling you— practically begging you— to find your way out. It’s asking you to dig yourself out of the trenches as it’s coming to suffocate you and swallow you whole, but you always push it back. Forcing yourself to accept Higuruma’s cruelty and furthermore, to enjoy it. The joy you felt when your exam grades were announced within a little over twelve hours, that sense of relief and pride that rang through your bones as you couldn’t help but tear up a little. A smile gracing your features as you tell yourself that you did it. And Higuruma’s voice infiltrates your mind shortly after to remind you that it’s because of him. 

You mewl out, your breasts bouncing with each thrust of his hips as you make sure to meet him with every one of them. Your back arching off the bed as your nails dig into his dark sheets. Your mouth is open agape, crying out and moaning out his name like a mantra. Your juices coating his cock and escaping the tight crevices every chance it gets, slipping deep into the cracks of your ass as your sweet cunt drools for him. 

His breath against your skin as he’s so close to your face, brown eyes watching your face twist and contort with pleasure. “Tell me how much of a whore you are.”

“I’m—I’m such a whore,” you manage to gasp, feeling his hands tighten once more. “S-such a filthy and nasty whore.”

“Yes, you are,” he grins wildly. “A dirty whore whose pussy loves older cock. Willing to get drilled by her professor. So, so nasty.”

“Are you…” you try to get your breathing under control. “Will you make me cum tonight?”

“I don’t know,” Higuruma hums, burying himself into you deeply as he stops all ministrations. “Do you think you deserve to cum tonight?”

“Yes,” you nod meekly. “Yes, I’ve been so good.”

“I decide if you’ve been good or not,” another sound of a slap infiltrating the air as Higuruma returns to the beatings of his cock against your walls. He’s an evil man, finding his fill within you as he’s fucked you of his load already, painting your insides white but deciding it’s not enough. When he feels that you’re close, he’ll stop and let your impending orgasm dissipate within the thin air as you whine and mewl in displeasure and beg him to let you have at least one release. It isn’t until he feels that coil in his stomach that he finally decides to be nice. 

“Fine, but you’ve got to cum with me,” he says, capturing your lips with a kiss as he holds onto your neck. He swallows your lips in hunger as you gleefully reciprocate the action, kissing him with so much fervor and passion. It’s sloppy as your pussy pulsates, it screams of your essence as you milk the older man of his. 

A milky white ring forming around his base as he continues fucking you, forcing the cum to drip out of your pussy as the drilling of his hips slow its rough and fast pace. Together, the both of you catch your breath as Higuruma finally pulls away. And for some reason, you thought tonight would be different, but when he climbs off of you to sit at the edge of the bed, you realize nothing’s changed as his voice rings out. Always the same thing, “Hurry up and get going. It’s getting late.”

At first, you always believed that it was his small show that he cared. It’s getting late, your delusions made you believe that he said that because the sky was darkening and he didn’t want you getting snatched away by the wonders of night. But every time he said it, he sounded emptier and emptier. There’s no meaning behind his words. So, you get dressed, calling yourself a lift for a few blocks down in the hopes of going undetected, never noticing the dark car that’s parked a few houses back, watching you leave. 

Shiu lights himself a cigarette, letting out a big exhale when he opens the door the moment you’re no longer in sight. He hated to have prolonged this, but he had to play it smart. Now that colleges will be closing soon for the holidays, it was the perfect time. You had called a couple days prior, saying that you’d be home in two to three days at most. The last thing Shiu had Nanami do was tap your phone, where he saw all your conversations with Higuruma. The conversations the two of you shared were always short and sweet— just what Shiu needed. While you’re on break, Higuruma won’t message you and you’ll come to believe that he’s busy. It wouldn’t be the first he’d gone days without messaging you. You wouldn’t suspect a thing. 

He felt disgust within himself, feeling like a failure of a father for letting this happen. He should’ve checked up on you more, should’ve persisted that you only sought him for help. Hell, he should’ve looked through your schedule the moment you got it, so he could’ve nipped it in the bud from then. A fool he is for putting faith in the school he used to attend. He is a fool for giving Higuruma the benefit of the doubt. However, this regret and pent up anger won’t subside the longer he mopes about it. Now that he knows and now that he’s here, something will finally be done about this. 

“You sure you wanna witness this?” Toji asks the man, hopping out of his side as they both approach the house. The lawyer had always stayed on the sidelines, never wanting to get too involved in Toji’s lifestyle. Anyone could be watching and that itself was a liability. Though, with a son himself, Toji can’t say he blames the man. But, would the lawyer truly be able to handle the bloodshed? “It can get pretty nasty.”

“Nah, I need to,” Shiu takes a long drag from the cigarette. He can feel it pulsating inside of him. If Higuruma didn’t die tonight, someone else will. “Promised my wife I would.”

“Haha,” Toji chuckles, remembering the night the two of them met. He feels pride within himself for being such a good wingman. “Yeah.”

“That’s enough talking,” Shiu drops his cigarette, crushing it with the heel of his shoe, walking ahead of Toji. “This bastard needs to die.”

Sneaking in through the patio door, the two men walk in silence. The gun that’ll be used to kill the former lawyer tucked away in the back of Toji’s pants, him reaching out to pull it out of the confines. Shiu glances at the hitman, giving him a stern look. “It better not jam.”

“My baby?” he scoffs. “She’d never.”

Shiu rolls his eyes. “Anything goes wrong and your pay’s depleting.”

“We’ll talk about that if it comes to it.” They spot Higuruma in the bedroom. Clothes still on as he reaches for laptop in the cart. Shiu tuts as he opens the door, “Your clothes are still on? Good. At least you’ll die with some dignity.”

[dayurno]

i need my kevjean freaky and weird and obsessive and worrying to the general public

abso-fucking-lutely i need it to be oppressive to be around them. i need it to be a breathing living thing you can feel if you step into their orbit. like it HAS to be bad and it HAS to be awkward and you HAVE to feel like you're intruding on something even if you've known them for years. i need kevjean to be something the trojans do a wellness check on jean for. i need kevjean to feel like a karmic debt they will have to keep paying for the rest of their lives. you know? it has to be weird. it HAS to be weird

anyway to me they are like this and they wouldnt even have to have fucked to know it

[doomedf]

Do any other comshippers sometimes experience moments when they wholeheartedly adore ships/dynamics that are considered problematic, only to feel repulsed by the mere thought of them at other times? Like haha damn girl I love k.docon usually but this is gonna make me hurl and cry 😂

[joelsgoldrush]

“give me the first taste” | 10k

logan howlett x f!reader

part 2 of “GUILTY PLEASURE”

"Your hungry flirt borders intrusion / And I'm building memories on things we have not said / Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly, my love / Give me the first taste / Let it begin, heaven cannot wait forever / Darling, just start start the chase, I'll let you win." The First Taste by Fiona Apple

SUMMARY: From the moment you first laid eyes on Logan, you knew he was a tough nut to crack. But if there’s one thing you love, it’s a challenge. As your relationship grows, you’re determined to show him that, in this universe, he can also be loved.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. angst. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. age-gap (reader is 25). once again wade saves the day. domestic!logan. soft dom!logan. logan calls reader “kid”. they watch (500) days of summer. oral sex (f and m receiving). fingering. thigh riding. thumb sucking. throat fucking. multiple orgasms. unprotected p in v. creampie (i would say i’m sorry but i’d be lying)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: jeez. hi guys!!! hope you’re doing alright. this is the 2nd part to “guilty pleasure.” writing for these two has been a total rollercoaster, but god was it worth it. as i always tell you, english isn’t my first language, so if you come across any mistake and you feel like letting me know, there’s no problem. thank you so much for all the support you’ve been giving my posts. i’m happy strangers out there take the time to read my silly stories :)

A girl and a mutant walk into an apartment…

Actually, you’re still trying to come up with the rest of the joke. But one thing’s true: Logan’s about to set foot in your place.

You curse under your breath, putting both your hands to work as you struggle to open the door. “Fucking swollen wood. I hate humidity,” you mutter, glancing back at Logan, who frowns as you keep trying different maneuvers to get the door to function properly.

It’s a shitty situation overall. And having that gorgeous man practically glued to your back isn’t helping in any way. You can tell he wants to give you a hand, but you’re not having it—women in STEM or something of the sort.

“May I—” he starts, though you cut him off before he can finish.

“I’ve got this. Just need to—” you say, ramming your shoulder into the door with enough force to make it finally give away. Almost stumbling over the carpet but managing to catch yourself, you sigh in relief. Meanwhile, Logan stands still, scrutinizing you until you gesture for him to enter. “Welcome to the smallest apartment in New York City. It's nothing fancy, but it’s got everything you need for a comfortable stay on a budget. Make yourself at home!”

Logan narrows his eyes, the tiniest smirk playing on his lips before stepping inside. Each of his movements seems to be premeditated as he tosses his jacket onto the couch, surveying the room. A portrait of when you were a kid, probably six or seven years old, catches his attention. He tilts his head, picking up the picture to examine it more closely, and then flashes you a lopsided grin. “How cute.”

“Well, I’ve changed a lot,” you take the picture from his hands, returning it to the shelf where he had gotten it from. 

“Well,” he echoes, mocking your tone, “your beauty certainly hasn’t.”

His eyes bore into you as you meet his gaze. What amazes you most is that he’s being completely honest. In a heartbeat, you look away, wondering what’s gotten into you. Usually, you’re not this awkward—you’ve learned how to take compliments over the years, knowing how to smile just right, to flutter your eyelashes. To blush and giggle in command. Those were the tools that helped you to survive countless first dates—your dearest aces up your sleeve.

There’s no use denying that they remained just that: first, failed dates. You hope you never have to go back to dating apps after this.

“Are you hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving,” you say, trying to walk away from him, although he’s faster, catching your hand in his. 

“Hey,” he urges you to make eye contact with him, his voice perplexingly soft. “Is everything okay?”

You nod so vigorously that you nearly strain your neck. “I’m fine, I swear. I just never get past this point.”

Inching closer, he presses his lips together for a split second, his brows furrowing in confusion. “You lost me there.”

“Guys who come into my apartment don’t tend to call back,” you admit, a flush creeping up your face, cheeks getting hotter. “I happen to believe it’s a curse, though I’ve kissed, like, a hundred toads so far and it still won’t break.”

“So y’think you’re gonna scare me off,” he raises an eyebrow, grinning. His rough fingers become gentle as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s sweet. Should be the other way around.”

Wow. You two are a match made in heaven.

As you detach yourself from his embrace and head to the kitchen, you decide to look for something edible in the fridge, finding different trays of food from days ago, none of which look appetizing or suitable for feeding the Tin Woodman standing behind you.

All of a sudden, the unmistakable metallic sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing rings in your ears, forcing you to spin around. The image that unfolds before you is peculiar, to say the least: he’s cornering your cat against the door.

Why is he about to fight a cat?

“Please don’t kill him?” you take a step in his direction and scoop the little ball of white fur into your arms. Logan stares at both of you, eyes squinted and brows knitted. “I’m sure he’s the cutest feline you’ve ever seen. Have mercy on him.”

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“Earnest wasn’t aware of your existence either,” you reply, scratching along the animal’s back. He purrs beside your neck, his yellowish eyes never leaving Logan’s. “Earnest, this is Logan. He has claws just like you.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to that,” Logan warns you, retracting his claws with a sigh. You can’t help but wonder if he ever feels tranquil, at peace. “Y’know, you’ve doomed him to bad fortune with that name. Is he at least toilet trained?”

“Are you hating on The Importance of Being Earnest?” you ask, expecting a retort, though apparently the play’s title doesn’t ring a bell for him. “Oscar Wilde?”

“Who do you think you’re talkin’ to, kid?”

Now’s your time to roll your eyes, setting the cat down and letting it run away. He likes to hide in the bathroom—don’t ask why, because not even you know the answer to that. You flick your gaze up back to Logan, placing your hands on your hips. “See, you gave him trust issues.”

“He’ll survive. Don’t they have seven lives?”

This is the perfect conversation to have with someone who just ate you out thirty minutes ago: how many lives do cats have. Jesus.

At some point, Logan flops onto the couch, stretching out. You shudder as you hear him crack his neck, the popping sound getting on your nerves. He pats the empty side of the sofa, spreading his thighs until he’s almost taking up all the space. “Come here.”

Putting aside all your thoughts, you accept the invitation. You sit down, motionless, and his arm grazes the cushion behind your head, pulling you closer to him. You rest your cheek on his chest, letting out a deep sigh, one that you’ve been holding in since you got to the apartment. Is it possible that he knows you craved this? This proximity, this kind of affection. To be held—it’s been your only wish for months. He drums his fingers on your shoulder blades, then starts rubbing your back ever so lightly.

Far from dozing off, you feel alive.

It’s hard not to lose track of time and space when you find yourself immersed in the warmth he offers, and that’s when you realize how deeply you’re falling for this man. “Logan?” the mere thought of asking him what’s been on your mind terrifies you. The last thing you want is to ruin things—or whatever it is that you have. He hums, a low, heavy sound in his throat, indicating you to continue. “I have a question.”

“Ask away.”

You lift your face from his chest and look him in the eye. The city’s still alive outside, with music and chatter sneaking in through the window. Everything seems to be perfect, and you wish you could stay like this—just staring at him as if he were a painting in a museum, and you the critic who can’t stop writing articles about its beauty.

Okay, that was… weirdly specific. 

Logan tries to hide his smile as you peck his lips repeatedly. For a moment, you almost forget what you were going to ask him in the first place. But then he’s ready to listen, and you a wave of nausea washes over you.

“I know that we came here to… engage in adult practices.”

“Fucking, you mean.”

“I didn’t want to be that straightforward, but yeah,” you say, shaking your head as to rearrange your thoughts. “Would you mind if we stayed like this?” to emphasize your point, you kick your shoes off and put your legs on top of his lap. He observes the whole sequence without daring to utter a word. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to try that too. I truly do. But… right now, all I want is to cuddle,” he’s still silent, making you even more nervous. “I’m sorry. Is that okay with you?”

His whole body engulfs yours, your cheek coming to rest once again in its original position. You can feel the rhythmic beating of his heart, each breath he takes, the air he exhales dampening your nape. Logan peppers your neck with chaste kisses before pressing his lips to your temple. His voice comes out strained, partially muffled by your hair. “Who do you take me for, huh?” he’s right there, beside your ear, fucking everywhere. There isn’t a single centimeter of your exposed skin that he isn’t touching, marking as his. You don’t give him an answer, in part because you’re unsure of what to say. He takes your silence as a cue to keep talking. “Let me take you to bed.”

“I can walk on my own.”

“I know,” he mutters, standing up with you in his arms, one arm beneath your knees and the other one under your shoulders. Logan’s not used to being this cautious, this patient with someone he’s known for less than two weeks. You see it in his eyes when he lets his guard down—something that has cracked, a shell that’s been broken.

As he places you gently on top of the covers, he lingers for a moment, crouching beside the bed and searching for your lowered gaze. His fingers are warm as he tilts your chin up. “I didn’t come here just to have sex with you. That was a possibility, of course—but it’s not the main reason why I’m here,” he rasps, words accompanied by the light brush of his lips against yours for a quick, brief kiss. “I care about you. A lot. I’m fine with whatever we do as long as I get to be close to you,” he grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He then goes back to his usual bossy self, his demeanor changing. “And I don’t want to hear you apologizing for not wanting to have sex ever again. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now you’re making jokes?”

“I can’t have serious conversations,” you confess, observing the look of pure confusion on his face. “It’s true. I once spoke at a funeral and they cut me off forty seconds into my speech.”

Logan laughs at your sudden confession, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Rising to his feet, he begins to unbutton his flannel, pausing after the first few buttons are undone, waiting for your approval. “Do you want me to stay tonight?” 

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

His words don’t hide any real threat—that you know.

You stifle your laughter, shedding your clothes. Instead of going to the bathroom to change, you toss your work clothes carelessly to the floor, opting for an old pair of pajamas that are the complete opposite of sexy. They surely have seen better days.

Logan’s eyes trail over you, taking his time to analyze the faded lettering on your wrinkled shirt. “Keep calm and eat pizza?” he reads aloud.

“Hey. I bought it when I was seventeen.”

“You could use a new wardrobe.”

“Well, what about you?” you tease, toying with his belt. “You’re gonna sleep like this in my bed?”

“Can’t wait for me to get my shirt off, huh?” he grins, that all-too-familiar smile on his lips.

You play along, folding your arms over your chest. “You think so highly of yourself.”

Without breaking eye contact, Logan unbuckles his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles. He then shrugs off his flannel, leaving him in just his briefs and vest. You scan his body, and the room suddenly feels a hundred degrees hotter, the air between you thickening. Logan notices your reaction, chuckling. “Don’t get too excited. This is all you’re getting today.”

“I think I’ve already heard that before.”

“Kid.”

You raise your hands in surrender, showing him your palms and mouthing ’sorry’. Approaching your bed, you pull back the covers and slip into it. When you see Logan still standing there, you frown. “Where are your manners? Come here. I’m very impatient.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but he doesn’t make you wait long. He proceeds to get under the sheets beside you, occupying that side of the bed that’s always been empty. As you both settle in, facing each other, you can’t help but giggle, your contagious laugh getting to him. “What now?”

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your index finger, a featherlight touch that has him closing his eyes. In the soft glow of the night, with the city’s distant sounds filtering in, he looks breathtaking. “I mean it.”

“Do you have an off switch?”

“I’m… not sure. Let’s find out tomorrow.”

“You need to sleep,” he pulls you onto his chest with firm but gentle hands. He intertwines his legs with yours, holding you close.

“Wait. I have a game to play.”

“It’s late.”

“Please?”

He sighs. “Okay.”

“We have to make confessions until we fall asleep.” 

“You just want to talk—that doesn’t even qualify as a game.”

“It does in this universe,” you reply, feeling his chest rumble with a chuckle as you settle more comfortably against him. “I’ll start: remember the first night you came to the bar?” he hums in acknowledgment. “It wasn’t Burger Night. We don’t serve food. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “I knew. You don’t have a kitchen down there, baby,” he falls silent, taking his time to come up with a confession of his own. “I have a fear of flying.”

“Really? You, of all people?”

“I wasn’t expecting to be judged.”

“Oh, don’t be such a crybaby,” you tease, burying your face further into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He shivers slightly where your nose touches his skin. “I like you. It’s kind of scary, and I’m sure saying something like this probably goes against the rules of dating 101, but I do. I feel safe with you, like—like this is where I’m supposed to be.”

Almost as if the pieces of the puzzle finally fit together, you think to yourself, though the words stay unspoken.

You’ve come to learn that Logan’s not a man of many words—he’s more of the “show, don’t tell” kind of guy. So when he makes you lift your face, you’re not surprised by the way he kisses you: hungrily. Passionately, like a starved man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. A soft whimper gets lost somewhere in your throat as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, languidly stroking yours.

“We didn’t brush our teeth,” you whisper against his lips, laughing when he groans in exasperation.

“You love having the final say, don’t you?”

“I’m being serious, Logan. Cavities are a real issue for me.”

“You can always get new teeth.”

“But my morning breath—”

“It’ll stink anyway, and so will mine,” he responds, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat once he settles into his ideal sleep position. “Good night.”

“Night,” you murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his neck. Despite your efforts to ignore it, being cradled like this feels incredible. You can’t believe you went twenty-five years without it.

Just as you’re about to drift off, curiosity strikes. “Can you get tattoos?”

“Bub, I was actually falling asleep.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry,” you mumble, feeling a bit sheepish.

More silence.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“What was the Great Depression like?”

“Fuck me,” he mutters, his voice gruff as he shifts lightly. “It was fine. Now go to sleep.”

And you do, but not for long. An abrupt coldness wakes you up, eyes wide open, feeling disoriented. It’s still pitch black outside, far quieter than when you first fell asleep. The clock on your nightstand reads it’s 3:17 am, though it feels like you’ve only been in bed for five minutes.

Then you see him—he’s twitching in his sleep on the far side of the bed, his painful grunts reaching your ears. Most of what he says is unintelligible, but there’s one word he keeps repeating over and over again without fail: “No.”

You don’t usually have nightmares. What’s the best way to wake someone from one? You’re still thinking when he starts mumbling again, his voice thick with distress, and now he’s throwing his arms in the air as if he were fighting off something—or someone—in his dreams.

Pressing your hands to his cheeks, you attempt to hold his face steady. He clenches his fists, his breath quickening the more he battles whatever’s haunting him. “Logan,” you whisper at first, subtly shaking his shoulders, but his eyebrows stay furrowed, deep in his nightmare. This time, you tighten your grip, fully sitting on top of him. “Logan. Logan! Wake up!”

Without warning, you’re on your back, pinned against the mattress. Logan’s straddling your hips, caging you in with his body, the weight of his adamantium skeleton pressing down. Your hands are trapped beneath his, and you watch as he clenches his jaw, teeth bared in a way that looks painful. His eyes are so dark and wild you barely recognize him, prominent veins throbbing in his neck with each labored breath he takes.

“Logan,” your own voice sounds unnatural, forced, as you do your best to bring him back to reality. “It’s me. You’re alright.”

That seems to get through him. Logan stares at you in disbelief, his eyes softening as they take in your terrified expression. He abruptly pulls away, retreating to the nearest wall. He’s gasping for air, slamming his eyes shut, his legs trembling. The only sound you can hear is his rapid breathing. You get up from the bed, taking a step in his direction, but you don’t manage to go any further since he stops you with a shout.

“Stay right there!” he’s growling, pointing his finger at you. “I’m serious. Don’t come any closer.”

“Logan…”

“Please, no!” his voice increases in pitch, not being able to meet your eyes. “Please. Just stay there.”

You comply, not wanting to upset him any further. Sitting back on your knees, you try to appear calm. A man so strong, capable of things you can’t even understand. A weapon turned against himself now stands before you, pushing you away as if his presence were poisonous. He slumps to the floor, the fabric of his vest soaked with sweat.

Once he’s fully conscious, you cautiously crawl toward him, watching his every move. On a random day, this might have been funny for both of you, but right now, there’s no room for laughter. Logan shakes his head, his shoulders tensing when you reach out to hug him, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. It takes him a couple of minutes, but eventually, his body sags against yours. For a while, neither of you speaks. You just thread your fingers through his hair, hoping the closeness will help soothe him. “Feeling better?” you whisper in the shell of his ear, and he pulls back to look you in the eye. You caress his cheek, his stubble rough against your skin. “Welcome back.”

“I’m sorry,” it’s the first thing he says, covering your hand with his. One by one, he kisses your knuckles, still shaking his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You had a nightmare—it’s not like you could control it.”

“But I could’ve hurt you,” he says, lowering his gaze to your wrists, where his fingerprints have left their mark. “God. I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

“Wait!” you grab his arm, your mouth setting in a hard line, stopping him from leaving. “Don’t run away from me, not now. Don’t push me away, Logan.”

“I could’ve done something much worse.”

“But you didn’t. It was a nightmare, baby. You didn’t know,” you kiss his forehead, hoping to talk some sense into him. “Please, stay. Let’s try to get some more sleep.”

“What if—”

You hold his face close to yours, your noses brushing. “You won’t hurt me.” 

This time, he lets you keep him close, the roles now reversed. You can see him fighting his exhaustion, not wanting to fall asleep. But the more you play with his hair, the harder it is for him to stay awake.

“I’m alright,” he says, seemingly reading your mind. It’s hard to tell whether he’s reassuring you or himself.

“I know,” you knead his shoulder, aiming to ease the tension knotted there. “You better sleep, or I might start rambling again.”

A faint, tired hum escapes him, at long last allowing his eyes to close. “I like hearing you talk,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your collarbone, drifting off soon after that.

You continue to hug him, feeling the weight of his body gradually relax against yours as his breathing evens out. The room is quiet, but your mind is far from it: a tornado of emotions swirls within you—concern, relief, love, and something else you can’t quite decipher. It isn’t until sleep finally claims you too that your brain stops going a hundred kilometers an hour.

The most surreal Sunday night of your whole life.

“So… when will you let me see Lolo again?”

Wade’s question makes you stop mid-pour, flicking your eyes between the drink and him. A few seats away, you hand a glass to Adam. Returning to where Wade’s currently sitting, you dry your hands on your apron. “Why are you even here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, and he gives half a shrug. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t holding him against his will.”

“He’s been crashing at your place almost every night. You have your own methods, woman,” he raises one finger, then quickly adds another, pointing at your shirt. “Two methods, in fact.”

At that, you laugh mirthlessly, shaking your head with a grin. “I’m surprised anyone would willingly date you.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts, taking a tentative sip of his beer and leaning back in his chair.

You glance at him while you wipe down the bar, looking for something to occupy your hands. “He’s not my boyfriend—yet.”

Wade mimics a punch in his chest, just where his heart’s supposed to be, though you’re starting to question whether he has one. His lips form a small, exaggerated pout. “That must hurt, doll. You got yourself into a situationship with a goddamn fossil. Good luck getting out of that.”

“It’s not that bad,” you say, rolling your eyes. “We’re cool this way. There’s absolutely no need for a title.”

“Okay, let’s rehearse that one more time because you look like you’re about to cry,” he lifts an eyebrow, drawing nearer. “You want the title, right?”

“I don’t.”

He props his chin on his hand, laughing at you. “Yes, you do. You can’t fool me.”

“I said I don’t.”

“I said I don’t,” he mocks you, kicking his legs and puckering his lips.

You can’t help but throw the towel down on the counter with irritation, giving in. “Okay! Of course, I want the fucking title.”

“There she is!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in a triumphant gesture. “Glad we’re speaking the truth now,” he tilts his head to the side, noticing your sudden silence. “Hey, drop the long face. I’m sure he’s been thinking about it. In order to understand Logan, I usually compare him to elders over ninety.”

“Why would you do that?” you ask, your tone a mix of mild annoyance and curiosity.

“Just think about it! Senior citizens didn’t date for too long in the past. They’d go straight from strangers to lovers. Take my grandparents, for example: in the span of one year, they met at a party, then got married, and had five kids. Do you really want to have a litter of Logan’s grumpy, hairy puppies?”

“Wade, that’s not even possible.”

“The point is,” he continues, finishing his beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Logan’s rusty in this area, alright? I’d bet a thousand dollars he probably dated Cleopatra.”

“How did you pass History in high school?”

“I never graduated, but keep that between us,” he lifts his shoulders, shrugging. He spins the empty bottle, contemplating his next words. “You should tell him how you feel and what you want. That’s what works best for Vanessa and me. It’s easier that way—you can’t expect him to just guess.”

You wrap your arms around yourself. “I just wish he’d realize it on his own.”

“Well, sometimes you need to give the other person a bit of guidance. I’m just laying out the basics of a relationship here. Did your parents hate each other or something?”

The irony of it all. “They got divorced when I was little.” 

“Oh, god,” Wade sighs, rubbing his temples before glancing at you. “Let me get this straight: Mommy and Daddy weren’t exactly the poster children for love. And you also happen to be a bartender. Anything else, honey? Please tell me you’re at least getting laid, because otherwise, I’m going to feel tremendously sorry for you and your mental health.”

Just then, you hear your name being called. Smiling at Wade, you mumble: “Saved by the bell.” Once you’re back from taking some orders, Wade jumps to his feet, coming around the counter to hug you.

“Dude, what’s the matter with you?” you ask, loosely returning the hug. 

“You’re a fucking survivor,” he whispers in your ear, genuinely sounding concerned. “I don’t know how you do it—you seem so put together. I would’ve lost it by now. A life without sex sounds awful.”

“Jesus, Wade! Get off!” you stretch your arm to punch him in the back, earning a groan from him. “Back to your seat, gentleman. I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“I’m a certified sexologist. Your secret’s safe with me,” he declares with a smirk, gesturing to his empty beer. “But first, I’m gonna need more of this tasty apple juice.”

“I hope you’ve got some cash on you,” you say, getting him another beer. “Why do I get the feeling Logan would kill us if he knew we’re talking about this?”

“Isn’t that what makes it even better?”

Swaying on your feet, you scrunch your nose, momentarily lost in thought. “He won’t let me touch him. I don’t know if it’s me that does something wrong. We do have our… moments, but he takes care of himself. And usually in the bathroom.”

Wade goes white in front of you. “How long has this been going on?”

“Over a month.”

“Oh. That’s bad, like, really bad.”

“Thanks! I’ll be sleeping on the highway tonight. You can always join me.”

“Doll, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed, alright?” he waves his hand dismissively, then sets his palms flat on the counter. “I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but talking to him is your best bet. This isn’t something you can just brush under the carpet. You’re like a goddamn radio—put it to good use.”

Just as you’re about to reply, you spot Logan entering the bar. You raise a hand in greeting, waving at him. He meets your gaze and smiles briefly, and so your eyes drift to Wade’s, shooting him a warning look. “If you keep this to yourself, I won’t charge you for today,” you mutter through gritted teeth, to which he answers by pretending to zip his mouth closed.

Logan takes a seat next to him, ignoring his presence. Instead, he focuses entirely on you. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, homey.”

“Hiya, Wade,” Wade greets himself with a mock cheer, patting his own back, which makes you laugh. He turns to Logan and his whole face lights up. “I’m afraid to tell you I can’t sleep when you’re not around.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Get your shit together.”

“You’re the worst roommate ever! Can’t believe you got yourself a girl and completely forgot about your bro,” Wade murmurs under his breath, just as his phone rings. “Thank God. I’ve got to go. My love nugget’s calling,” he announces, heading for the door. Before leaving, Wade blows the two of you a kiss. “I hate you both, but I also love you. Peace out, my friends!”

Logan and you exchange glances. “He’s a funny guy, isn’t he?”

“You could say that,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. Logan intends to deepen the kiss, but you pull away after a couple of seconds. He frowns, clearly confused. “That’s how you greet me?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “My tip jar is practically empty, and I hate to say it, but it’s your fault.”

“Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”

“Oh, no.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not,” he plants a quick kiss on your cheek, making you smile. “You have classes tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, at 9 am,” you almost grunt, not feeling too enthusiastic about it. “I’m gonna need your help. I can’t sleep through my alarm, okay? The professor said tomorrow’s class is an important one. Midterms are right around the corner, and I can’t take the liberty of failing them.”

“That won’t happen,” he assures you, and you believe him. “I can be of help, don’t worry. You won’t oversleep.”

Oh, Logan. Sweet, lying Logan.

Turns out you ended up oversleeping. Twenty-five years on this earth, and you still haven’t learned not to trust a man, even if his puppy-dog eyes silently beg you to do otherwise. The thing is—you love them. You love men. And you’re especially fond of the one currently sleeping in your bed.

The first rays of sunshine hit your face, waking you up. You attempt to raise a hand to shield your eyes, but moving any limbs feels like a Herculean task. A warm body is pressed against your back, one veiny arm draped over your stomach. Logan remains fast asleep behind you, his steady breathing succeeding in making you feel at ease. You reach back, running your fingers through his messy hair, and he grumbles in his sleep, instinctively pulling you closer.

What a nice, domestic morning. Yep, you’re getting used to this. And nope, you don’t regret it, not even in the slightest bit.

Though there must be a mistake, because you’re preeeeetty sure you had something important to do. 

Oh. You have classes. Had—past tense.

You reach for your nightstand, blindly groping for your phone. The charger is lying on the floor, the plastic of it all damaged. Perhaps Earnest had chewed on it while you were sleeping? You gently pry Logan’s arm off you, sitting up, and your bleary eyes land on something barely peeking out from under the bed.

It’s your fucking phone. The screen is completely shattered, with three distinct holes in the middle of it. Three holes, how strange! You can’t help but wonder who might have left them. Clutching your pillow, you whack Logan in the face with it. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!”

He groans, trying to take the pillow away from you. “What the fuck is wrong with you, kid?”

“I wish I had a UNO reverse card because I should be the one asking you that!” you jab your finger into his chest, showing him the ruined phone. “You broke my fucking phone!”

“What?” he asks, voice laden with sleep, still disoriented. He holds the phone, carefully scrutinizing it. “I think I don’t know how to hit the snooze button.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I believe you’ve made that very clear,” you huff, tossing the phone aside as you flop back onto the mattress. The clock on your nightstand says 11:05 am, and you cover your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. “Next time, when it goes off, just wake me up and I’ll do it.”

Logan settles beside you, resting his head on his forearm as he watches you. “I’m sorry, bub. I’ll get you a new one.”

“It’s fine,” you murmur, sighing. This is your free ticket to be a menace. “I should’ve known dinosaurs and phones would never get along. My bad, pal.”

You don’t even get to see his reaction because he starts tickling you, the room filling with your laughter. Squealing, you try to wriggle away, but his fingers dig into your ribs, expertly finding your most ticklish spots. Your giggles escalate into breathless laughter, your eyes squeezed shut as you desperately attempt to push him away. He’s relentless, chuckling when his own laughter bubbles up. 

“L-logan, stop!” you gasp between fits of laughter, aiming to grasp his hands.

“We dinosaurs love tickling people. Sorry, sweetheart,” he manhandles you until you’re perched on his lap, fisting the fabric of your (his) shirt. Leaning forward, he captures your mouth in a heated kiss. “I’m sorry about the phone,” he slurs the words against your cheek, his lips trailing down to your neck. You tell him that it’s okay, trying to find a comfortable position on top of him, and that’s when his thigh presses against your core, your eyes widening at the unexpected sensation. Logan’s no fool, noticing the way your breath hitches. “What’s wrong, baby? You woke up needy?”

“No, I just—” you trail off as he does it again, his strong thigh coming in contact with your clothed cunt. You search for leverage by placing your hands on his shoulders, glancing at him. “Logan.”

“I’m all ears,” he rests his back against the headboard, the tent in his boxers impossible to ignore. “You want to get off on my thigh,” he states with certainty. It’s not a question—it’s a full-on statement. He knows what you want, what you crave. “Come on then. Grind against it.”

You do as he says, not caring to think twice. You start moving, rubbing your wet pussy against his muscular thigh. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and soon, you’re whimpering his name, your hands trailing down his abs. Why hadn’t you tried this before? It feels fucking amazing.

From his position, Logan stares at you, his lips slightly parted, eyes clouded with lust. Your arousal drenches your panties, soaking through them, the fabric clinging to his coarse leg hair. He glances down at the mess you’re making, his grin widening as he takes in the sight. “Goddamn, woman. I’m gonna make you clean it off, I swear to God.”

“Need your help,” you whisper, lowering your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. The coil tightening inside you is almost unbearable. A kiss is what you lean in for, desperate for more, though Logan appears to have other plans. He fists your hair, pulling at your nape and yanking your head back. The roughness of the movement pulls a moan from your lips, your mouth parched like a desert. 

“Eyes up here, okay? You look at me when I make you come,” his raspy voice makes you feel tingly, each word sending shivers down your spine. His hands fiercely grab the flesh of your hips, guiding you, helping you grind harder against his thigh. You think you’re on the verge of drooling when you catch the way his abdomen flexes, working to push you toward that long-awaited release. “That’s it, there you go,” he rasps, relishing the sounds he’s eliciting from you, each of your gasps feeding his desire.

Time slows as the warmth in your belly finally erupts, your eyes fighting to stay open through the aftershocks of your orgasm. No actual words leave your mouth, just a string of whines and moans, some carrying Logan’s name. He swallows every single sound you make, everything you give him, grunting as your legs tremble and shake atop him.

He lets you collapse onto your back, your breathing gradually evening out. “I think I saw fireworks behind my lids,” you confess, your mouth dry, expecting Logan to flop onto the mattress beside you. But he doesn’t. Through your blurry vision, you contemplate as he positions himself between your parted legs, getting dangerously close to your cunt. “Logan, what are you— Oh, fuck,” you moan mid-sentence when you feel him pulling your panties aside to lick a slow strip through your folds, collecting your arousal. He points his tongue, dipping it into your entrance, and you wince, squirming. “Santa Claus, is that you?”

Logan grins against you, closing his mouth around clit for a moment. He then shifts until he’s eye-to-eye with you, two of his fingers sliding into you in one smooth motion. “Give me another one,” he murmurs, his other hand slipping under your shirt to play with your nipples, pinching them. 

You never imagined two fingers could bring such intense pleasure. You just lie there, taking it like a good girl, as Logan sometimes call you. “Please, I need you,” you cry out, your fingernails scraping against his torso.

“I know, darlin’. I’m right here,” he rasps against your temple, moving his fingers in and out of you with more enthusiasm. But what he doesn’t understand is that you need all of him. Your hands itch to touch him, to feel the weight of his cock. The corners of his mouth turn up as he watches you struggle to find words. “Wish you could see yourself like this. Such a pretty girl, so gorgeous like this,” his fingers keep grazing that bundle of joy deep inside you, and he goes in for a kiss, the sour taste of your slick invading your taste buds. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever had. Need to stretch you real good before fucking you with my cock.”

Bingo! That last sentence does it for you, and you come for the second time in the morning, your cunt clenching and spasming around his fingers. You hide your face in his neck, mouthing at his Adam’s apple. He hasn’t trimmed his beard in days, and it shows because you can now feel a burning sensation on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“You’re allowed to break all my phones from now on,” you suggest, only to hear Logan’s laughter in your ear. He snakes a hand through your hair, shoving it back away from your face. You feel him kiss your sweaty forehead, and as you press yourself closer to his body, something hard nudges your hipbone.

Absentmindedly, you trace the waistband of his boxers with your index finger, your eyes snapping to his face. Logan freezes on the spot, and it’s almost as if he’s stopped breathing. Without a word, he rises from the bed, his movements sudden and almost mechanical. You watch him, puzzled, as he heads toward the bathroom, the intimacy of just moments ago being abruptly replaced by a dreadful silence.

“Logan, is everything okay? Do you need something?” you ask and he pauses at the bathroom door, his back to you. For a brief second, you think he might actually open up, but when he turns around, his expression is neutral, masking whatever thoughts are running through his mind. At last, he flashes you a quick smile.

“I’m fine,” he says, his tone gentle but distant. “Just gonna take a shower. Then we can have breakfast together, right?”

You nod, his words easing the growing sense of frustration gnawing at you. He disappears into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon follows. You sink back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You take your pillow and bury your face in it, letting out a muffled groan. There’s something he isn't telling you, something hidden deep beneath his usual gruff exterior. Although you try to piece together the fragments of his behavior, they don’t quite fit.

The minutes drag on, and the sound of the shower becomes a distant, constant background noise. You close your eyes, visualizing your happy place, but your thoughts keep spiraling. All you can do is wait—wait for him to come back and act as if nothing had happened.

Logan’s right there, just a few feet away—yet in moments like these, he feels miles apart. It’s one of those days in which, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to bridge that distance. 

It had all started with you asking Logan “Have you ever watched (500) Days of Summer?”

Of course, he had refused to watch the movie at first, and of course, you had threatened him with phoning Wade to let him know that Logan wanted to have a sleepover. That had done the trick.

You had asked for a day off at the bar, and surprisingly, your boss hadn’t objected. That turn of events led to this moment: sprawled out on the couch with Logan, the two of you watching the final minutes of your favorite film. Logan takes a long drag of his cigar, eyes trained intently on the screen. He’s only wearing sweatpants, which had caused your attention to drift from the plot a few times. The fact that you managed to sit through the entire movie without needing to pause it makes you feel particularly invincible.

Hey.

You again.

Yeah. I, uh, was just wondering if maybe after this, if, um, you— you want to get some coffee or something.

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sort of supposed to meet someone after this.

Okay.

“That poor fella,” Logan murmurs, taking a slow sip of his beer. You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, a contented smile playing on your lips. His fingers absently stroke your hair.

“Just wait,” you say, pointing to the screen of your laptop.

Sure.

What’s that?

Why not?

Okay. Well, then I’ll just, uh— I’ll wait for you.

We— we’ll figure it out.

We’ll figure it out.

“They’ll figure it out!” you exclaim, but Logan quickly shushes you, his attention unwavering.

My name’s Tom.

Nice to meet you. I’m Autumn.

When the movie comes to an end, you’re met with Joseph Gordon-Levitt breaking the fourth wall, staring straight at the audience as if he knows he’s about to get himself into a mess with another girl named after a season. You sit up, your eyes eagerly searching for Logan’s. “So? Did you like it? I’ve watched it seven times now. Can’t understand how it gets better each time.”

Logan closes his mouth around his cigar, inhaling deeply before answering. “Yeah, it was pretty good,” he says, his hand finding your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Summer’s a bitch, though.”

“I respectfully disagree,” you tell him, grabbing his beer and giving it a try, only to grimace at the taste. Shuddering, you set it back down. “Why don’t you like her character?”

“Well, for starters, she did Tom dirty. Played with him like he was a damn rag doll.”

You raise an eyebrow, hugging a cushion closer to your chest as you lean back into the couch. “He knew from the beginning she didn’t want to be his girlfriend. Summer was clear—Tom just though he was smart enough to change her mind.”

“They acted like boyfriend and girlfriend the whole movie,” he scorns, placing his cigar down into the ashtray with a bit more force than necessary.

Is your first argument going to be over a movie? Exciting.

“Logan, they weren’t even official.”

“But she made it seem like they were,” he insists, the frustration in his voice growing.

“They were in a situationship—the perfect example, really. That’s not the same as being a couple.”

His gaze dips to the floor, brows knitted in a deep frown. “I think you’re relying on the technicality that they never used those titles. I mean, they did everything together. Isn’t that what normal couples do?”

Lord have mercy.

“Logan, who am I to you?” you inquire, crossing your arms over your chest.

He hesitates, narrowing his eyes, the question clearly catching him off guard. “You are—what? I don’t understand. Is this some kind of mind game you’re playing?”

“It’s actually very simple: if someone were to ask you about me, what would you say? Am I a friend? A bartender?” you inch forward, holding your breath, your tone faltering slightly. Meanwhile, Logan’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. “A fling? Your girlfriend? You complain so much about Summer, yet you can’t even name what we have.”

The living room falls into a heavy silence. Logan blinks slowly, his forehead creasing as he processes your words. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because these are the kinds of conversations we need to have. I understand you don’t want to have them, but I do.”

“Fine. Then tell me what it is that you want,” he asks, his mouth snapping shut when he sees you snorting in response.

“I don’t— I don’t know! To know how you feel, if possible?” you stand up from the couch, taking the cushion with you. You grind your jaw, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Why is it that every time I try to touch you, you push me away?”

He scrunches up his face, mirroring your movements and rising from his seat. “Bub, can we please talk about this tomorrow—”

“No! You don’t get to make all the choices, that’s not fair. Deciphering you isn’t easy, Logan. I’m not asking you to tell me everything you’ve been through. I just wish I could know how you feel about me. I can’t stand in front of you and pretend I don’t mind where this is going, because I’m more than sure I’m falling in love with you. “

“You can’t. You shouldn’t,” he says, his expression hardening. He turns his back to you, running his hands over his face in frustration before heading to the kitchen.

“Well, what were you expecting?” you follow him into the kitchen, finding Earnest on top of the fridge, beholding the scene with a curious gaze. “You basically moved in here, gave me a free trial of what life with you might be like, and now you have the audacity to appear surprised when I tell you I’ve caught feelings?” salty tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you spread your arms wide in exasperation. “Oh, but you’re right. How could I’ve been this stupid, to fall for the damned Wolverine!” you laugh bitterly, expecting him to break eye contact, but he doesn’t. “You think you’re so bad, so broken. Guess what: you’re not, because I love you, and I couldn’t care less about your past. You may think you’re unlovable, but you’re not, you hear me?”

For a heartbeat, the world seems to pause. And so he says:

“You are the most exasperating person I know.”

“Wow. Thank you so much!” you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You run a hand through your hair, infuriated. “That makes me feel better!”

“Let me do the talking now,” he says, taking long strides toward you, and the proximity makes you lower your head. “You’re not getting the final say today. Just because I’m not over-sharing my feelings all the time doesn’t mean I don’t have them! In fact, I do. I may not express them openly, but they exist. And I wish you could see inside my head! You’d be delighted at how much time I spend thinking about you,” you cackle at his words, rolling your eyes. His fingers grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “There hasn’t been a single moment since the day we met that I have stopped wanting you. Your voice is like a goddamn radio that, no matter what I do, I can’t turn off. It’s like I’m infected by you, and I hate it!” his eyes burn with a mix of anger and affectionpur, his pursed lips softening as he continues. “No good ever comes from caring this much about someone. So excuse me for being scared of ruining the only good thing that’s happened to me in years!”

You hit him with the cushion—not with enough force to make him hurt, but enough to make a point.

“Drop it, kid.”

“I’m—” you hit him again, “not—” and again, “stupid. I know what I’m getting myself into,” as you attempt to raise the cushion once more, Logan takes it from your hands, throwing it on the counter. Your shoulders sag, trying to find the strength to keep going. “And I know for a fact,” you add, glancing at his conflicted eyes, “that the easiest thing for me would be to walk away from you, but I can’t. It’s too fucking late.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do! These are my feelings, okay? Mine, not yours. You don’t have the right to decide who I love and who I don’t.”

Logan’s eyes squint, scanning your face. “You’re… obnoxious.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“And I—I love you,” he confesses, his nostrils flaring with emotion. Opening your mouth to say something, you close it moments later, your gaze locked on his. “You could take what you said, pretend as if I didn’t exist, and I wouldn’t say a thing, y’understand? I would move cities if you asked me, because I love you that fucking much, and I want you to be happy.”

You reach for his hand, briefly intertwining your fingers with his. Looking at him through your eyelashes, you rub your fingers over his stubble. “And what if my happiness comes from being with you?”

Logan lets out a harsh breath, his arm curling around your waist, pressing his chest to yours. “I can’t promise I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. I’ll probably makeplenty of mistakes.”

“Fine with me.”

“And you’ll be mad at me. A lot.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure it’s mutual.”

Both of you laugh then, and you’re taken aback when he brushes his nose against your cheek, silently seeking permission to kiss you. His lips move hungrily against yours, trailing his hands down your spine, pulling you closer. He breaks the kiss and laughs at your eagerness when you chase after his mouth. You end up perched on his lap as he settles into one of your kitchen chairs. Logan stares into your eyes, his gaze drifting lower. “I won’t push you away this time. Not anymore.”

That’s your cue to finally do what you’ve been yearning for weeks. You fall to your knees in front of him, shaky fingers that graze the hairs on his happy trail. The bulge in his sweatpants is close to your face, and your mouth waters at the thought of having him between your lips. “Can I?” you ask, your voice a touch higher. 

He draws a long breath, tilting his head slightly. “You may, baby.”

You pull at his sweatpants and boxers, sliding them down his legs just enough to free his hard cock. As you take a look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, the sight overwhelming. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips, that musky scent of his hitting you.

A whimper escapes you, and Logan hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, darlin’. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he cants his hips up, causing your movements to stutter. “You can take a bit more, can’t you?” his question ends with a guttural grunt, his fingers tightening on your hair. “Gotta show me how much you want this.”

Logan takes all that you give him. You lower your head further, taking in another inch of him. Sex’s supposed to feel good, but this? It feels even greater. And he’s not even inside you yet, you hear a voice murmur in your head. The hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you sneak a hand between your bodies, grasping him by the base. You swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair..

“Thaaaat’s it, honey. Just like that, want you to choke on it,” he grumbles, running his mouth just the way you like. The tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat and tears fill your eyes. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure. Logan’s gaze is intense, and he stares into your soul, his chest heaving. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Dick got your tongue?”

You’ll definitely get back to that joke later.

“Will you—can you—”

“Come on, beautiful. I don’t have all day.”

God, you love it when he’s mean.

“Fuck my throat,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

A smile dangles on the corner of his lips. “We both know you can be nicer.”

The fucker makes your pulse race. “Can you fuck my throat?” you ask again, more insistently. “Please.”

He guides himself into your mouth, smirking as he watches how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “How polite of you to say please. Some good manners you’ve got.”

You whimper around him, your body responding to the rhythm he sets, fully immersed in the intensity of the moment. And for a while, you drift away, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. It’s almost impossible not to compare him to your past hookups. You try to recall at least a single instance when another man made you feel this way, but no memory surfaces.

Time seems to stretch and warp. You don’t really know when it happens—he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, examining you. “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with that sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. Defeated, Logan shakes his head, pressing his finger against your tongue. “I was planning on coming on your mouth, but I think I’ve got a better idea.”

In the blink of an eye, you’re in your bedroom. Not even a metaphor—he picks you up and basically runs to your room, closing the door behind him. You prop yourself on your forearms, trying to process what’s about to happen. Logan, already naked, climbs onto the bed after you, He kisses you slowly, tracing the curves of your body. “You still want this?”

“I do. I’m just… nervous, that’s all,” you admit, flashing him a quick smile. “It’s been two years of celibacy for me. Will it fit?” you ask, glancing down at his cock, and Logan stares at you in confusion. “Also, how many girlfriends have you had? Just curious.”

“I don’t think this is the time for that conversation.”

“You’re right,” you agree, lying back on the mattress, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Were they pretty?”

“Bub.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” he replies with a smirk. “Focus on me, okay?”

Despite your tries to crack jokes at the worst possible moment, things escalate pretty quickly. Logan’s got three fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. He’s already made you come once with his mouth—to get you more relaxed, he had said. Wanting sounds slip past your lips as he doesn’t miss the chance to hit that spot that makes you squeeze your legs together. The tip of his nose drags long lines up and down the skin of your neck, mouthing at your jaw.

“I’m ready,” you mumble after some minutes, reaching for his cock and stroking him. “Let’s break the bed.”

“You’re lucky you’re this cute,” he says, catching your lips in a kiss. “Condom?”

“Negative, Sergeant.”

“You don’t have any?”

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want you to use one.”

The way his gaze darkens doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand guides your face toward his cock. “Get me wet,” he commands, and you oblige, sucking him into your mouth. You hum around him, unable to contain yourself, and you hear Logan chuckling above you. “Can’t believe this is what it takes for you to shut up. Gotta keep your mouth full all the time.”

Once he’s satisfied with the way you’ve slicked him, he positions himself over you, caging you between his arms. Logan pins you down with his body, his hot breath mingling with yours. When you stare into his eyes, all you see is pure love, and your heart swells with affection. “Will you fuck the bad jokes out of me?”

Logan laughs, rubbing his length along your folds, grazing your clit for a fleeting second. “I sure as hell will,” he assures you, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks into your eyes for approval. “Ready?”

“I was born rea— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head breaches you, your eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. “Fucking mutant dick.”

“You’ll love it, believe me,” he husks next to your ear. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. Logan pulls out, and then fucks into you with a little more force.  “How are you still so tight? You’re killin’ me here.”

“I’ve got no idea, but you feel—amazing,” you gasp, latching onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. “Oh, god. I can feel you in my stomach.”

“I know, baby, I know. Can feel it too,” he curls one of his hands around your throat, keeping you in place. From his position, he can watch the way your face contorts in pleasure. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips, he sucks hard. “You were desperate enough to get on your knees in the damn kitchen. You’ll be good now too, am I right?”

“Yes. Yes. I can be good,” you pant, eyes wide and pleading. “Anything you want. Just don’t stop.”

“I’m not stoppin’, princess. Don’t worry,” his mouth curves into a wicked grin as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. His hand on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make you feel the pressure, grounding you in the moment. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs against your chest, his voice laden with need. 

Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Logan’s grip on your neck loosens as his hand slides down to grasp your hip. He squeezes your tender flesh, pulling you harder against him, as if he can’t get close enough. The bed creaks under the intensity, but you barely notice, too far lost in the rhythm of his movements.

“You’re perfect, all I’ve ever wanted,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” you hear him repeat, more to himself than to you, his voice stranded as he tries to hold himself back, letting you chase your own release first.

The pressure inside you builds up, tightening with every skilled flick of his fingers. You’re sure you must look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, though the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Logan, I’m—” you croak, the wind being knocked out of your lungs with each relentless thrust. “I think I’m gonna come.”

He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you, let go for me. I’ll take care of you, baby, I swear,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall. Your body obeys him, a shuddering release tearing through you, moaning Logan’s name and gripping him like a vice. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, driving you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, contemplating how wrecked you look. “Tell me where—please, sweetheart.”

“Inside.”

“What?”

“I said inside. Come inside me, Logan.”

He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. Logan buries himself to the hilt, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls with his thick seed. Beside your head, his claws unsheate, tearing into the pillow. He ruts against you, his body trembling and writhing against yours, already apologizing for the pillow incident while pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m sorry. That hasn’t happened in a while.”

When Logan collapses beside you, he pulls you into his arms, kissing you eagerly. You return the kiss, wincing as you feel a bit of his cum slip out of you, rolling down your thighs. He stares at your glistening cunt without an ounce of remorse, and you close your legs. “That’s private.”

“It wasn’t very private a minute ago.”

“Logan?”

“Tell me, bub.”

“Knock, knock.”

He must truly love you, because he plays along: “Who’s there?”

“Ice cream.”

“Ice cream who?”

“Ice cream for you all night long.”

“Guess I didn’t succeed in fuckin’ the bad jokes out of you,” he teases softly, letting his head fall back on the bed. “But it’s fine. I’ll just have to keep tryin’.”

This is the story of how you end up dating a man who’s two hundred years old. But it’s also the story of how that same man learns to let his guard down and open his heart. So, remember this, kids: the sky’s the limit, especially when it comes to love—and yes, even when it involves dating mutants.

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[creepyashy]

"𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐃𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮?"

𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐱 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐜𝐰: 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐝𝐮𝐛-𝐜𝐨𝐧 (𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐛𝐢𝐭), 𝐩𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐞, 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬, 𝐝𝐨𝐦!𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐬𝐮𝐛!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄/𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐁 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫. 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐢𝐱𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲..𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲.

You had always been adamant about your sexuality. You were straight, and that was that. You had never been interested in guys, and you didn't see that changing anytime soon.

But then you met Sunday.

Sunday was everything you never knew you wanted in a guy. He was confident, charming, and had a way with his words that left you weak in the knees. You couldn't help but be drawn to him, despite your best efforts.
You had gone on a few dates with him, but when he leaned in for a kiss, you pulled away and told him the truth. You didn't see him like that, and you didn't want to lead him on.
Sunday had accepted your rejection, but you could see the hurt in his eyes. You felt guilty, but you knew it was for the best.
But now, as you lay strapped to his bed, with his lips trailing down your chest, you couldn't help but regret your decision.


“You should really stop squirming, you know. I might just leave you here alone, and you don’t like being alone do you?” Sunday asked, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. He knew your weak spots, how you couldn’t stand the thought of abandonment. Though, it didn’t deter you at the moment. You struggled against the restraints, but they were too tight. You were completely at his mercy, and it both scared and made you feel a weird timgle in your lower abdomen. “What do you want from me? You went through all this trouble of forcing me here and for what?” you asked, your voice trembling.


Sunday chuckled, his hand sliding down your body, making you squirm. “I want you to admit the truth,” he said, his lips ghosting over your ear. 'You want me, you know you do. Why push those feelings down? I know you haven’t been treated right in the past.” You shook your head, denying his words. But deep down, you knew he was right. The way he touched you, the way he talked to you so sweetly, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced before.
Sunday pulled away from your ear and looked into your eyes. “You know it's true,” he said, his voice soft yet commanding. “You can deny it all you want, but nobody will ever love you like I can. You don’t want to be alone again, do you?” His hand moved lower, cupping your buldge. You couldn't hold back the moan that escaped your lips. At this, your moutth went dry, but as he begaj to move his hand back and forth slowly—you attempted to stifle a moan. “See? I’m already convincing you, sweetheart. I know youre such a sweet boy, so you’ll let me do this right? If you don’t, I’d be really sad..” Sunday said, a smirk playing on his lips and contrasting the false sadness in his voice. He undid your pants and pulled them down, along with your briefs, baring you to his hungry gaze.
“Fuck..it looks even better up close.” he whispered, his hand wrapping around your length.
Before you could ask what the fuck he was talking about and knee him in the face, he began to stroke your hardening cock. You gasped as he stroked you, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body.
“I’ve been waiting for this for so long. To touch you like this and make you mine forever.” Sunday said, his hand pumping faster as his pupils seemed to take shape of hearts. You struggled against the restraints again, but you were quickly lost in the sensations. You couldn't control the moans that escaped your lips, or the way your body arched towards him, seeking more.
Sunday leaned down and licked a stripe along your aching dick, making you cry out in pleasure. He continued to suck and lick, his hand never stopping its movements while his touch pressed against the head of you. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to cumming, but just before you could, Sunday pulled away.
Now that you were recieving it, it left you wanting more. “Why did you stop?” you panted, your body filled with need.
Sunday smirked, his hand moving lower and teasing at your entrance. “Because you haven't admitted the truth yet, love.” he said, his voice dripping with lust.
You took a deep breath, your mind foggy with desire. “Fine,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want you, Sunday. Please, I need you.” Sunday's face lit up with a wicked grin, and before you knew it, he had two fingers in front of your mouth.
“Suck.” he commanded.
Your eyes widened, but you did as he said, taking his fingers into your mouth and sucking on them eagerly.
“That's it,” he moaned, his fingers moving in and out of your mouth. “Such a good boy.” You couldn't believe the words coming out of your mouth, but you couldn't deny the pleasure they brought you.
Once Sunday was satisfied, he removed his fingers and placed them at your entrance, pushing them inside without warning.
You cried out, a mix of pleasure and pain shooting through your body. Sunday moved his fingers in and out of you, stretching and preparing you.
“Aw, did that hurt?” Sunday asked, his voice soft and gentle now, but it felt sort of condescending. You could only nod, the pleasure becoming too much to form words.
Sunday removed his fingers, and you whimpered at the loss. But then he was positioning himself at your entrance.

“Be a good boy for me, I know you can take this. You wouldn’t let me down, right?”

[lucysarah-c]

Mounting Spring Ch. 1.

Summary: Paradis has opened its doors to the world, and the Rumbling has not yet occurred. The military board insists, "We need more Ackermans!" to avoid ruining Mikasa's life. Levi agrees. Arranged marriage, explicit consent, Omegaverse. Alpha! Levi x Omega! Y/N. Mentions of underage marriage but it doesn't happen, the reader is over 21. Age gap but they are both adults. (I would say enemys to lover but they don't even know eachother to be enemys lol.) Author note: I've had this idea for so long… Omegaverse is my guilty pleasure, and I decided to treat myself with it. From the creator of "Not in season?" I bring to you "Mounting Spring" lmao haha sorry it's just that my first omegaverse was rather a success… so I decided to do another.

MASTERLIST TO ALL THE OTHER PARTS.

Link to AO3 in case you prefer to read it there.

The papers were passed around the Military board members, each set handed off in tense silence. The room’s air had cooled quickly as the sun dipped below the horizon, making Levi’s coat, almost too heavy to bear earlier, feel suddenly necessary. The chill seeped through the old walls, hinting that a bit of heating might soon be in order. 

With methodical precision, Levi slammed the stack of reports against the wooden table to align them perfectly, every edge sharp and in place. He moved aside the sticky notes he’d scribbled on hours before, crossing off the last item on his to-do list with finality. Job done for the day— 

“Well, that’s it,” he muttered, eager to leave the stale room behind. 

A pointed clearing of someone’s throat halted him, making him glance up slowly. Levi’s senses flared; he wasn’t done after all. The tension thickened, and the air shifted to something more ominous. His gaze travelled around the table, landing on each board member’s face. Some looked uncomfortable, others entertained, as if they’d been anticipating this moment. Hange, seated beside him despite their role as Commander now, avoided his eye, their head lowered in apparent resignation. Recent meetings had seen the appearance of new, vaguely unsettling faces, like Kiyomi's, who now looked across the table with a subtle smile. 

“Captain,” Zackly’s voice rasped as he cleared his throat yet again. 

“The day’s agenda is finished,” Levi stated, irritation biting at his words. The official telegram had detailed the topics to be discussed, all of which they’d already addressed. Anything beyond that, he knew, was meant to be cleared with the entire board beforehand. 

“This was a last-minute matter,” a Military Police officer interjected, though the smirk twitching at his lips betrayed more amusement than urgency. 

“Captain,” Zackly called again, knitting his fingers together. “You know we’ve always valued your dedication to Paradis.” 

The pause was rehearsed, the words strangely formal, making Levi’s eyes narrow. “What the hell is going on?” cutting through the man’s attempt at civility. 

“Let the Commander finish,” Kiyomi insisted, her voice smooth and elegant, though tinged with a superiority that grated on him. 

“We wouldn’t have managed to retake Wall Maria without your bravery—” 

“A lot of people sacrificed themselves for that,” Levi replied sharply, cutting off the praise that felt, at best, patronizing. “Including the previous Commander, Erwin. No need to thank me.” 

“Nevertheless,” Zackly forged on, tiring of the interruptions, “without your skill, all those sacrifices might have been in vain. Not only did you dare to fight for Eren’s retrieval from the Female Titan and against the former tyrannical regime, but—” 

“It wasn’t just me. My squad and the brat over there were in it too.” 

The tone of the conversation was growing increasingly uneasy, the excessive praise no longer just annoying him but setting off alarms. 

“Quite right. You and Mikasa were essential in humanity’s progress,” Kiyomi added, eyeing Levi with a calculating gaze. As her look shifted back to Zackly, Levi’s own attention followed. 

“What we mean to say is… even if Paradis positions itself favourably in the new world, more capable individuals like you and Mikasa would be ideal assets for our success.” Zackly straightened in his chair, clearing his throat for the third time, making Levi wonder if the man needed water—or to finally give up smoking like a chimney. “Have you ever considered marriage, Captain?” 

The question hit him like a bucket of ice water. It was so absurd Levi could only scoff. “What?” 

“How old are you now?” Zackly continued, feigning casual curiosity. “Thirty-three? Thirty-four? A prime age, I’m sure. And for a high-breed alpha like you—” 

Behind him, low chuckles began to echo from the MPs, each one making Levi’s grip on the chair’s arm tighten. 

‘This is a trap.’ 

“Whatever it is you’re implying, I I suggest you rethink it,” Levi spat, the weight of their words starting to settle. 

“Let’s be frank,” Kiyomi leaned forward, hands placed firmly on the table. “Captain, we once thought the Ackermans extinct, only to discover Paradis has not one but two. Even Zeke couldn’t deny that meeting you at Shiganshina was... less than pleasant.” 

“Of course,” Levi replied dryly. “I beat that monkey’s ass.” 

“Exactly.” The dark-haired woman showed no amusement, her voice all business. “To the point, then: we intend to provide you with a suitable wife to ensure that you bless this island with as many Ackermans as she’s capable of bearing.” 

Levi shot to his feet. “You must be out of your damned mind if you think I’d agree to this. I’m not here to be used as a breeding tool.” 

“Oh, but you wouldn’t be the one doing the birthing,” an MP remarked with a smirk as the rest of the board broke their facades, amusement flashing in their eyes. All but Hange, who looked as if they might vanish into their seat. 

“You’re insane,” Levi snarled, preparing to leave, feeling insulted to his core. “You can use Historia as your political pawn as much as you want, but I’m not some 17-year-old girl at your disposal—” 

“Think of it as a service to your country,” Zackly replied coolly. 

“I serve this island every damned day,” Levi snapped, baring his teeth. With a sharp slap, he pressed his papers against the table and strode toward the door, signaling his utter rejection of the idea. 

“If you won’t consider it…” Kiyomi's calm, piercing voice halted him at the door, the threat clear. “Then we’ll turn to the only other Ackerman left.” 

Levi stilled, staring at the golden knob in his hand, fury boiling in his veins. He wasn’t about to fall for this. 

“Mikasa is too valuable to be reduced to a broodmare.” 

“She’s a girl of duty,” Kiyomi replied, a note of satisfaction in her voice. “Something you seem to lack. And she’s an alpha. I’m certain she could bear at least one healthy child before returning to the battlefield.” 

Levi clicked his tongue, pushing open the door with disdain. ‘Who the hell do they think I am?’ Hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat, he stormed down the royal city’s military headquarters hallways, curses slipping from his lips. The whole idea was absurd; they’d lost their minds if they thought he’d even consider it. 

As Levi stormed down the dim corridor, every step sharp and swift, he couldn’t shake the rancor rising within him. The brazenness of it all, to drag him into their twisted ambitions with such flippant disregard for his will—and then to threaten Mikasa. The audacity alone made his fists clench. 

He barely noticed Hange keeping pace with him until their arm was outstretched, catching him by the shoulder. 

“Levi,” Hange began softly. Their usual spark was subdued, gaze serious, and voice almost apologetic. “I know you’re furious. I knew this would be hell to hear, but I didn’t know how else to—” 

“Save it.” Levi shrugged their hand off, glowering. “You knew, didn’t you? That they were going to bring this shit up?” 

Hange hissed, as if asking them to confessed was almost painful. “Yes… I knew.” 

Levi gritted his teeth, eyes dark with betrayal. “You agreed to this?” Both of them whispering on the empty cold halls of the building.  

“I… didn’t agree,” Hange answered carefully. “But I was there when the discussion happened. Look, Zackly and the others—” Hange hesitated, running a hand through their hair. “They’re dead set on this idea. They think they’re planning for a stronger Paradis, and if they think that means Ackerman bloodlines—” 

“Save the speech.” Levi’s tone was sharp. “They can be dead set on whatever they please, but I'd like to see them drag the entire MP battalion if they want to force me into this.” 

The past year had hardly been easy on either of them, especially Hange with their new title as Commander. Levi was well aware of this—yet the sense of betrayal cut deep. “For fuck’s sake, Hange, you could’ve warned me.” 

A tense silence hung between them, until Hange finally sighed and adjusted their glasses, pressing on the bridge of their nose. “You think I had a say in this? Kiyomi's paying for the entire coastal expansion and the railway. She thought it was a decent idea, and with her money backing it, she’s got the final word on everything.” 

Levi clicked his tongue, crossing his arms in exasperation. “Those bastards in the upper ranks are just itching to get on my last nerve since we changed the policies.” 

“Look, I know it sounds—insane. But maybe… if we don’t try to protect the future of the island, there won’t be one. And if there’s a way to keep the Ackerman bloodline alive, maybe there’s value in that…” 

“Don’t give me that bloodline nonsense.” Levi’s tone was ice-cold, his gaze sharp. “This is some harebrained scheme they’ve cooked up. And let me guess: it reeks of Zeke. That bearded bastard’s across the ocean, and he’s still screwing with my life.” 

Hange pressed their lips together, saying nothing. The silence was confirmation enough. 

“That son of a bitch,” Levi cursed under his breath. “He’s the one with royal blood, not me.” 

Hange’s lips twitched in something close to sympathy. 

“Well, since you two are such good friends these days, feel free to let him know he can kiss my ass.” 

“Levi…” Hange sighed, not because they disagreed but because Levi’s sense of betrayal cut both ways. They were the last two left of the original veterans—family in all but name. It wasn’t just an argument; it felt like a wound between them. 

Convincing Levi? Impossible. But convincing her? That possibility hung in the air, lingering like a storm on the horizon. Levi paced with conviction at first, then with dread. They both knew it, and, worse, Zeke likely knew it too. Mikasa had just turned seventeen, still almost a child, recently visited by someone claiming kinship with her clan. Levi couldn’t care less about all the ancestral politics, but he was all too aware of how they worked. 

“You can choose whoever you wish for the father,” they had told her, as if it was some generous offer. And, step by step, he watched Mikasa’s face transform from disgust to something akin to acceptance. Perhaps it was because she, too, held a certain pedigree; perhaps she felt duty-bound. He didn’t know, and he didn’t care what methods they used to sway her. 

‘She’s smarter than that,’ he tried to tell himself. 

But then he overheard Historia, almost childishly enthusiastic, whispering to Mikasa, “See? I told you—we’re girls with responsibilities.” The blood drained from his face. If they’d managed to convince Historia, to make her some kind of pawn in their twisted ambitions, what was stopping them from pulling Mikasa down the same path? 

‘It’s disgusting,’ he thought bitterly. ‘Maybe this is how those classist bastards operate. They talk little girls into this like they’re just trading dolls for something more ‘exciting.’’ 

That night, back in his office, Levi was a restless storm, pacing the room with his suit jacket hanging loose, fingers curled around his glass of whiskey, his movements sharp and frustrated. The glow of his cigarette flared in the dark room as he took a deep drag, gritting his teeth. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

Slouched in his chair, forearm draped over his eyes, his mind circled back to Mikasa’s hesitant, almost innocent blush—her teenage imagination painting a faint, rosy tint over whatever twisted future she thought she might face. And in his mind, as if staring him down, were Eren’s haunted eyes, that deadened look of someone who already knew more than he could say. Maybe the brat already knew Levi wouldn’t let it happen. 

“She’s a damn kid,” he muttered. The thought of Mikasa shouldering this burden felt like a betrayal of his own values. 

Though technically, she was not much younger than many girls who’d borne children before. But this felt different, disturbing— He let out a humourless chuckle, as a man that waits for getting hang. “Those bastards knew… I wouldn’t let them ruin her life like that.” 

And like a cursed prophecy that tightened its grip the more one tried to escape it, Levi found himself back in that same damned office, slouched in his chair as if seated at a poker table. Bargaining his future. 

Levi sat stiffly across from the military board, his expression a blend of frustration and disgust as they spoke. Zackly lounged in his chair, lazily smoking as the other officials presented folders adorned with detailed painted portraits, lists of family properties, and who knows what else. As they laid the offers on the table, a random thought clouded Levi’s mind: It feels like searching for a button that matches at the notions store. 

He was reminded of long strips of fabric with various buttons sewn onto them, each one a potential fit. “Many of the noble families are eager to show their loyalty to the new government,” one officer stated with a practiced calmness. “Some have offered up alliances in exchange for the return of their territories and titles. This includes a number of unclaimed young omegas. You’ll have ample choices.” 

Levi’s jaw clenched. He knew they expected him to appear grateful for the options lined up before him, as if he were selecting a new weapon. Instead, he leaned back, crossing his arms tightly. “I’ll be imposing some conditions.” 

They paused, exchanging glances. “Naturally, Captain,” one of the men replied, steepling his fingers. 

“No fancy bullshit,” Levi declared. “The wedding will be plain. Just a civil ceremony. I have no intention of making a spectacle out of this.” 

The room fell silent, the officers exchanging looks that spoke volumes. One of them cleared his throat, hesitating before responding. “Captain, you should consider—” 

“I’m not considering anything,” Levi interrupted, his tone sharper than before. “This is a plain arrangement, and it will remain exactly that. I don’t need fanfare or ceremonies—just a quiet signing of papers.” 

The officers shifted uncomfortably, their discomfort palpable as they struggled to reconcile Levi’s cold practicality with their expectations. “Think of the girl. Many young omegas dream of their wedding day, waiting for it their whole lives. It’s—” a female alpha soldier attempted to be the voice of reason, but Levi was clearly listening to none of it. 

“No buts,” Levi said, his patience wearing thin. “If I’m going to go through with this ridiculous arrangement, it will be on my terms. I’m not dragging this girl through some overblown ceremony when neither of us wants to be there.” 

With a loud sigh, Levi lifted himself slightly from his seat to grab the portfolios. He barely looked at them, frowning deeply. “Don’t you have pictures where they look— I don’t know—human?” he spat out sarcastically, noting how overly produced their painted portraits appeared. 

“That’s what’s in fashion,” one officer muttered defensively. 

Groaning in disinterest, Levi rolled his eyes. “Nobles and their weird tastes.” But as he turned the next page to examine the descriptions, it was as if the world had tilted off its axis. “Sixteen,” he muttered, irritation creeping into his voice. He looked up, venom lacing his words. “You’re offering me sixteen-year-old girls? Girls who could be my damn daughters?” 

“It’s common, you know—” 

“I don’t care what’s common. Twenty-five,” Levi interjected. “At least twenty-five. I’m not getting tied to a child.” 

“Come on,” an exhausted soldier exclaimed, “some are seventeen, eighteen—” 

“Twenty-five,” Levi snapped, his eyes blazing. “I’m not interested in any of this unless you bring me someone who isn’t still in their childhood.” 

“Be realistic,” Zackly finally spoke up, looking weary and disinterested. “How many omegas do you know that aren’t claimed by twenty-five?” 

“Fuck if I know; that’s your job to find out, not mine.” Levi’s anger flared, echoing in the sterile room. “Weren’t you the one telling me to think of the girl? Don’t you think of her?” 

“Why? Are you planning on hurting her?” Zackly questioned, raising an eyebrow. 

“Fuck no.” 

“Then I’m not concerned. Choose one and stop being a pain in the ass.” 

It was clear they were not going to reach any middle ground like this. Amid the hastily scribbled notes, he noticed a name: Y/N, age twenty-one. He pointed decisively at the line, cutting through the cacophony of voices. “That one.” 

There was no picture, no description—nothing. Perhaps it should have raised suspicions, but Levi was too tired for this cheap drama. 

“Why her?” one member scoffed, glancing at the paper. “We have better offers on the table.” 

Levi didn’t hesitate. “She’s the oldest.” He placed both hands on the table, pushing himself upward. He had made up his mind the night before; he just needed this to be over. Striding toward the door, he exited without allowing anyone to stop him. As he walked out of the conference room, he could hear the murmurs behind him. 

As the door shut firmly, one of the cadets held the papers against his chest, confusion written all over his face. Slowly, he turned to the higher-ranking officer. “Shouldn’t we tell him that she’s scheduled to marry this weekend to her childhood fiancé?” 

Zackly chuckled, flicking the ashes from his cigarette into the ashtray. Between coughs, he said, “Oh well, he can find out from her once they’re both married. It’s no longer my problem.” 

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

[hoshigray]

MAPPA gave Nanami such beautiful hands that they never fail to make you feel things.

a/n: Bye, the trailer JUST came out, and I can't get over how good they made Nanami, so I'm writing out this to put myself together. @satoruhour pushed me on to write this so ty swee-T-pie, love u sm 💓 this is just like when they released that hidden inventory trailer and i drooled over Toji's hands help 💀 so yeah this is just me writing a short smthn for kento's hands, sorry not sorry. also tysm for 1.9k!!!

cw: Nanami x fem/afab! reader - first soft then smutty, so minors DNI - h@nd h0lding - soft dom! Nanami bc yes - fingering (f! receiving) - hand kink (ig?) - fingers in reader's mouth - pet names (angel, love, sweet girl) - praise - clitoral play - you and Nanami in a cute domestic relationship ♡

wc: 950

You love Kento Nanami's hands. It's no secret to yourself because it's the truth. But you can't blame yourself; you can't help it! There are so many moments with him where you can't help but admire the man's big hands, and honestly, it's embarrassing at this point. It's a guilty pleasure that makes you feel such pleasant emotions, makes you want him more and more.

Even before the two of you expressed courtship, there were days when you'd encounter and have idle chitchat with the stoic man, and those were days that were hard to go through when you had such a tremendous crush on the guy. So much so that you'd drift your gaze away from his feline mocha eyes masked by his eyepiece. Instead, you'd look at his hands, admiring how beautiful and big they are. Aside from his face, they were the only thing visible from his dapper suit. Not that you complained, though. The more you saw and talked with Nanami, the more you marveled at his hands in your thoughts.

And when you two finally started dating, things were going slow and steady. Just as the two of you wanted — no rush at all. But a memory you hold dear to your heart was when the two of you walked home in the cold winter. The chilly breeze sent shivers down your spine, and your nose found breathing tricky in the extreme temperature change. Not to mention you forgot your mittens at home. Just my luck...

However, it wasn't all that bad. After all, your boyfriend (it felt a little weird calling him that) offered to walk you to your place, sticking close to your side, which was a rarity back then. Heat finally found its way up to your cold cheeks when Nanami took the initiative to grab ahold of your hand with his, the size difference making it easy to exchange warmth. "Here," he said so nonchalantly it almost felt like a dream. "Don't want the wind to blow you off the sidewalk." It was such an airy gag from the usually silent man, yet you chuckled and held his hand tighter, the cold overlooked throughout the rest of the walk.

Even watching him doing the most ordinary things is a sight. Whether he's washing dishes, making the bed, or cutting vegetables for the next meal he was cooking for you two, your eyes would always find their way to his deft hands. Rugged palms moving swiftly and gracefully, veins that stem from the back trail upwards to his forearm, and thick fingers with scars so faded with time that you'd have to be very close to see them. You're so in love with him — with his hands. They make you feel safe and secure, warm and loved. Specifically in times when you two are close to each other. Whether it's you resting on his chest as he reads a book while rubbing circles on your back or holding hands with you two walking around the vicinity, it couldn't get any better.

...Well, perhaps now as you're lying on the bed with your back to his chest, succumbing to his touch as one hand cups your cheeks while the other burrows inside your panties — his fingers intruding between your folds and playing with your leaky entrance staining the underwear with your come.

"Ooooh, Kentooo..." You moan to his thick digits in your vulva, scraping your spongey walls that result in high wails. He rubs your cheeks and maneuvers your face to the side so he can lay kisses on your neck, and you melt under his lips with a blissful hum.

"Open your legs a bit more for me, angel." His command is hushed to your ears. You follow his instructions and spread your legs further apart, and he rewards you with another finger added to your chasm. Now both the fore and middle digits slide deep into you, and the brush of his thumb on your clit results in sudden wails. "Good, that's my sweet girl."

His fingers graze your insides expertly, having you writhe on him with how good he's making you feel with just his fingers alone. The speed of his digits increases by the second, and you can feel the wave start rising in your body. Your body jolts with every scrape of his fingertips, pornographic whines fly out your mouth, and your face gets hotter and hotter.

"Haaaah!! Mmnnn...Kento, I'm so close. 'S so close, I'm—Mmmph!?" You don't get to finish that sentence when Nanami stuffs his free fingers into your mouth, your tongue immediately coating the two digits with your saliva.

"Go on, come on me, love." His sweet words were what it took for everything to come crashing down, the fingers in your cunt quicken in pace, and his thumb flicking on your clitoris — causing you to grab onto his forearm. Scratching the clothed limb and heavy pants drawing inward, your cunt clamps around on his fingers as your orgasm comes to pull you in for a euphoric release.

And Nanami lets your body experience the shocks on top of him, laying precious kisses on your temple and cheeks. He slowly removes his digits from your satisfied cunt with a whimper from your puffy lips. "Did so well like always, angel." In your daze, you still share a smile and welcome his lips on yours.

Like you said before — Nanami's hands are your guilty pleasure in more ways than one. And it feels so good to know he reciprocates those desires with mutual love. If such a gorgeous and attentive man can have you under him with just his sheer touch, then so be it.

[befemininenow]

Admit it. You want her outfit more than anything. Still afraid of being called a sissy? Honey, sissy is just a mindset. But deep inside, your identity is female. There is nothing sissy about wanting to wear such a tightfit bodysuit, a lovely skirt, shiny pantyhose, and some tall high heels. That is an outfit women generally wear. Women like you, whether cis or trans. Does it feel emasculating? Perhaps. But is it also affirming for your feminine side? Absolutely! I bet your nice little egg has hatched at this point. (I feel like a mistress just writing this lol

There's a voting poll underneath. If want to skip the long description, scroll below and vote. Good luck!

Now that I feel better after the shitshow last night, it's time to leave politics behind and move on to another voting topic: outfits! This is not only such an affirming outfit for the fall season, but it's also one of the most feminine and modern outfits ever. It just screams femme! I even have a near identical outfit because I love it so much!

That got me thinking: there's just so many outfits that feel "emasculating", but few that affirm the trans woman in you. You know the ones: schoolgirl uniforms, maid costumes, ballet outfits, office secretary, housewife attire, and even waitress outfits. While not all the mentioned outfits are bad (I have a guilty pleasure for Hooters outfits), I feel that some of them are too flashy and have too plain in the feminization world.

We need something more affirming, more unique, more aesthetically pleasing, more... permanent. More in line with your transfeminine identity as opposed to fulfilling a kink. IMO, I feel that this outfit is one those that accomplish that. Not too flashy, but not too plain. Balanced enough to make you feel affirmed while looking like another girl in the outside world. IMO, one can never go back to wearing boy's clothes once you try something sexy like this!

I'm dying of trying something new for this blog: For this month only, I want to make at least 4+ feminizing captions per week with women wearing this outfit. The main purpose is to convince you to go deeper into feminization by trying this outfit out. Once you try it out and love how it feels so femme instead of humiliating, you will have the rite of passage into becoming a trans woman. You can still wear the other outfits if it's your thing, but your feminine wardrobe will expand further after this moment. If the first option wins, I will fulfill that new plan of 4+ captions in addition to my regular caption posts and reblogs. If the second option wins, I will just continue making my regular posts when I have the chance or need to upload (Hint: I'm not really uploading as much).

Now, let's get to the polls, the feminization polls, that is!

[shy-writer-999]

Ace's pillow is your last resort

WARNING: MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

A/N: Ace has been gone for months and you decide to ride his pillow to get off. ~1k words. shoutout to the anon who requested this!

Ace & Pillow Humping

Ace had been gone for a long time—days had turned into weeks, weeks into months. He was on some voyage, some mission hundreds of miles away. You didn’t know when he was going to come back. You were worried sick, and on top of that you were starting to crave his touch with concerning, all-encompassing intensity. You felt like you were going crazy.

A few days in, you started to sleep in Ace’s bed. It smelled like him, reminded you of him and the countless nights you spent together there. If you closed your eyes and wrapped yourself in his sheets tight, you could almost hallucinate his presence next to you, throwing his arm over you like he always did. You wore his shirts and his sweatpants, drank out of his favorite mug, used his shampoo—you did anything to mimic and pretend like he was there.

In any other circumstance it may have been overkill, but when you passed the three-month mark without him you threw all inhibitions to the wind… which is how you ended up humping his pillow in his bed one night, trying to keep your moans as quiet as possible.

The idea hit you like lightning—if you couldn’t fuck him, why not fuck yourself to completion with something that smelled just like him?

It started by fingering yourself in his bed, a guilty pleasure. You would close your eyes and pretend like he was watching and touching himself too, which happened to be one of his favorite activities. Unfortunately, your fingers just wouldn’t cut it sometimes. But… what about his favorite pillow?

Moments after the idea flashed through your mind, you grabbed his pillow and folded it in half. You positioned it underneath you, between your legs, and started to hump the smooth fabric. You braced yourself with your hands on the bed in front of you, sometimes sitting up and grinding down, other times leaning forward on your elbows rubbing back and forth. You had one of his big t-shirts on and nothing else.

In Ace’s bed, with the lights turned off in the late hours of the night, you figured that everyone else would be asleep.

The fabric of the pillow bunched and slid, granting friction to your core that quickly became so wet that it was starting to saturate the fabric. A stain seeped into the area where you grinded your clit and glistening lips erratically. Each thrust backwards and forwards built heat in your core and elicited soft whines and needy puffs of breaths.

As you rutted your hips into the pillow more forcefully, you could feel your climax building. It felt so good—the fabric was wet from your slick and the friction of your clit snagging on the fabric sent zaps of pleasure to your core. Your muscles started to tense up as your core started to throb and pulse.

You couldn’t help it anymore. Ace’s name started to trickle from your mouth along with pathetic and filthy whimpers. You could hear the fabric make sloppy rustling sounds as you shifted back and forth.

“Ace, nngghhhhhh” you panted, pressing your hips down and putting all of your weight on the pillow now, rubbing your sensitive spot so it felt just right. “Aceeee. Fuck.” As you writhed on his pillow, you imagined how Ace looked when he touched himself to the sight of you.

Ace would spread his thick thighs and tease as much precum out of his cock as he could, stroking leisurely until he got worked up enough to move his hand tighter and faster. He would sweet talk and encourage you while he watched you stuff your fingers into your cunt just for him. “Awh sugar, you look so cute getting all hot and bothered for me” and “you’re moving those pretty fingers so well, sweetheart.” He’d throw his head back and make the most precious looks of ecstasy when he was about to cum. His freckles would scrunch up as he let out desperate puffs of breath, eyebrows pinched into an expression of pleasure.

While you imagined him touching himself, you started letting out needier moans and more urgent thrusts, franticly dragging your cunt over his pillow like you were in heat, like you were dying for it, starving for it. “Ace, fuck, Ace, Ace, Ace,” you keened, ripples of ecstasy ricocheting through your body. You were almost out of breath.

Right when you were about to climax, you heard the door creak open. The light switch clicked and flooded the room, making your eyes smart from the pitch black you were accustomed to.

“Surprise beautiful, I’m home—” Ace’s voice sent you over the edge. He may have been watching, but you couldn’t stop yourself from cumming. One last needy hump on his pillow and you were squirming with euphoria from your orgasm, panting and sweaty, an absolute mess that made Ace hard on sight. “Fuck, babe. Are you humping my pillow?” He stared for a moment in disbelief then walked in. He closed the door as you collapsed forward onto the bed, riding out the last waves of bliss from the wet pillow case.

“Mmmhmm,” you hummed out, eyes half-lidded with lust. “Welcome home, love.”

Ace approached the bed, squatted down to your eye level, and gave your forehead a kiss. He was grinning. “You missed me, didn’t ‘ya princess?”

---

(✿˘ω˘)˘ε˘˶ ) ok that's all for now! see the anon request below & my response!! ive decided to do this format so the image banners i make show up in the thumbnails :3

omfg thank you so much!!! (✿˘ω˘)˘ε˘˶ ) this is such a good idea. the anon requests in my DMs have been neeeasssttyyy and it’s giving me life. I fear you are really going to let the freak out of me because why have I not thought of this before... 😳😳😳

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐬 (𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 & 𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐅𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝)

Disclaimer: This is for entertainment purposes only and should not be taken seriously. 18+

Methodology: Traditional and Whole Sign

Placements:

Leo Sun

Cancer Moon

Sagittarius Rising

Virgo Venus (retrograde)

Scorpio Mars

Is He A Fuckboi?

6/10

People who have a Virgo Venus can enjoy having sex without feelings involved so Mingi probably can be a fuckboi but his Cancer Moon would intervene and he would become emotionally dependent on you very quickly.

His Sagittarius/Jupiter influence means he has a high drive like super fucking high he can go all day if he had the opportunity.

So, I feel in his horny moments he could just fuck a random stranger but afterwards or when it's out of his system, he'd probably feel bad or low-key guilty about pursuing sex if there's no 'feelings' involved.

Red Flags:

Mommy Issues! Mingi is a huge Mommy's boy and he's mentioned in the past about how his relationship with his mother is the most important to him.

This is EXTREMELY common in men who have Cancer Moons and they usually grow up with a mother who 'babies' them and have a borderline codependent relationship with their mother.

So you might struggle with being accepted by his family and consistently fight for approval or validation from the women in his family.

Green Flags:

Your No 1 Support Person! You will feel like you haven't experienced as much support and hype energy from your loved ones like the support you'll experience from Mingi.

He will be devoted to you and worship you and do whatever he can in his power to ensure your life is easier and more enjoyable whenever you're with him.

Whilst Mingi is a high-maintenance partner, his presence as a boyfriend would have a healing impact on you and life will fill like a more positive experience when you're with him.

Ideal Type: If He's Into Women (Which I'm Damn Sure He Is)

Personality Traits:

Extroverted!!! He has a 5th House in Aries so he is attracted to women who are loud, outgoing, extroverted and are not afraid to speak up about their needs.

Mingi is someone who's a constant over thinker so he needs a partner who is okay with being upfront about what their needs and expectations are of him, it's why he has a strong friendship with Yunho because Yunho tells him what to do and he does it.

Protective!!! He really is low-key looking for someone who will embody a 'mother' role and ensure he feels safe, protected and cared for all the time.

If you look at heaps of fancalls with Mingi, the ones where you can tell he's invested in the Atiny are the ones who lead the fancall and just basically hype him up and froth over him.

Physical Traits:

Here's the Link to a fancall with an Atiny where he explicitly says 'you're my type' and you can TELL omg he looks like he wants to devour her in those remaining 30 seconds.

A feminine/girly aesthetic with a slight emo/punk twist combined with a masculine attitude is the best way to describe Mingi's type physically.

If you don't want to click the link, he says word for word to the Atiny 'look so amazing, black (he did say that but the Atiny muted it), and dark, and your accessory and outfit is so beautiful...yeah my type'.

The Atiny later revealed she's British and Dominican so the rumours of Mingi being attracted to women who are of a different ethnic background are probably true (a win is a win).

Sub, Switch Or Dom?

Mingi is a switch with a submissive preference and the only member of Ateez who has a submissive preference and would fall into the category of being an obedient and needy/clingy sub.

He has an 8th House Moon and these people are NASTY in the bedroom usually so his partner would have to be open to trying new things.

In a dominant position, Mingi would become a soft/service/pleasure dom and would probably still need a lot of reassurance even if he's taking the lead.

And men with a Scorpio Mars are the type to fuck and love passionately so whilst he's not a degrading/mean lover...he wouldn't necessarily be a gentle lover either because he struggles with verbally expressing his love for you so he's going to ensure you know he loves you in another way.

Which usually manifests in him fucking you so deep your hips bruise, legs are shaky and there's an ache in between your thighs the next day.

Speaking of thighs...

Kinks: (Just A Few)

Ass and Thigh play!!!

Mingi is an arse and thigh guy all the way, he loves seeing your arse jiggle as he fucks you doggy style and leave hand prints all over your cheeks.

Would enjoy a late night lovemaking session where he can hit it from the side and squeeze and play with your thighs as he fills you with his love.

He'd enjoy pulling out and covering your arse with his sticky cum, watching it drizzle down your thighs while he takes a few sneaky pics for his phone collection.

You think he's been a bad boy and want to punish him? It hurts his feelings that he can't fuck you but he'd be more than okay with pushing his dick in between your thighs and just getting off in that way.

And don't think this is just for you no honey, this goes both ways.

You riding his thighs? Using him like a personal toy just to get yourself off? He'd have to force himself from not cumming in his pants with how hard it would make him.

Scratch his thighs, smack his arse, you can low-key bite the meat of his arse and leave a bruise there and he would enjoy it all the same.

You just need to validate him and tell him how good he is, how proud you are of him, how wet he makes you feel.

'Look how wet you made me right now mmmh? You deserve a reward for being such a good princess for me right?'

On a more taboo level, Mingi could also be into kinks like anal, arse play (both giving and receiving), rimming, and I think in the right environment he'd even let you peg him.

Just ensure he receives the most immaculate aftercare, allow him to do the same to you and he'll never leave your side.

He's tied to you for life.

I won't be publishing anything in September because I'll be writing for Kinktober so pls enjoy this longer post!

It's been a struggle for me to stay motivated on here because my last few posts have flopped with receiving attention and/or interest...considering how long I have been on here.

So adieu until October!

Taglist: @scuzmunkie @marievllr-abg @umbralhelwolf @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @mrcarrots @junieshohoho @gyuhanniescarat @partywithgyu @whatsk-poppinhomies @hologramhoneymoon @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @berryberrytan @laylasbunbunny @bangchanbabygirlx @i-love-ateez @anyamaris @krishastumblernow @hexheathen @michel-angelhoe @northerngalxy @justaaveragereader @ja3hwa @silentreaderthings @daddysspecialdollyworld @abby-grace @wisejudgedragonhairdo @smilefordongil @writhingwrecked @hongthoven @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell

[hoshifighting]

hihi lyla! i hope you are well 💖 i wanted to ask you to write about svt’s reactions to cock worshipping? tysm for ur ff/imagines ur writing has made me feral for dino 👹

seventeen reacting to you worshipping their cock

a/n: i'm doing fineee! how ab u? the emoji hahahah are you feral 👹 anon then? 😂😂😂 hope u like it, tried to write this from what I understood tho 🤧

seungcheol's eyes nearly pop out of his head when you slap his cock against your face. “this is the most perfect cock i’ve ever seen,” you say, your voice dripping with adoration. “it’s thick, pretty, and made just for me, isn’t it?” his cock twitches at your words, and he knows he’s in TROUBLE. he’s speechless, a desperate moan escaping his lips as he realizes you’re going to use this against him. “fuck, you know exactly what to say,” he groans, his hips bucking involuntarily. “i never knew you could talk like this.”

jeonghan watches you with a confident smirk as you worship his cock. “you’re so fucking perfect,” you murmur, licking up the length slowly. “this cock was made to be worshipped.” “keep talking like that, and you’ll make me cum,” he sounds confident, even a bit cocky, but inside, he’s battling a thousand demons not to cum right then and there. “i didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth on you.”

joshua when you asked to put a bow around his cock, he thought you were joking. but now, as he watches you appreciate his cock with slow, deliberate licks, the ribbon on his base getting wet as you slowly lick around the ribbon, he’s left covering his mouth, his eyes almost heart-shaped as he watches you. “it’s so beautiful, joshua. i could suck it forever,” you murmur. “oh god, keep going,” he begs.

junhui shakes his head, trying to deny your words. “no, jun, it’s perfect,” you insist, caressing him. “you’re perfect.” he tries to shake off your compliments, but it only makes you more intense. his protests turn into whimpers until he finally cums, overwhelmed.

soonyoung tilts his head, watching you rub your cheek against his cock like it’s the most natural and adorable thing in the world. “you’re so cute, baby,” he whispers. “your cock is everything to me,” you purr. “i love every inch of it.” he cums almost instantly, not because of the pleasure, but because he knows your love for his cock is real. “you’re too good to me,” he breathes.

wonwoo squirms from the moment you start. he’s caught between feeling shy and incredibly horny. your hand caresses his cock like it’s a delicate piece of art. he smiles, unable to help himself. “you’re all sweet,” he murmurs. “and you’re all mine,” you reply, planting a kiss on his tip. his smile grows as he relaxes into your touch.

jihoon becomes a babbling mess as you give gentle, loving kisses all over his cock. “your cock is the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen. i can’t get enough of it.” you coo. “you’re gonna make me cum just like this, you know that?” he covers his face, realizing he’s fallen even deeper in love with you. “fuck, i’m feeling so shy right now,” he admits between moans. “but i love you so much for this.”

minghao watches you with a sly smile, caressing your cheek as you worship his cock. “you’re so delicate,” he observes, his voice full of affection. “i’m mesmerized by you.” “i want to show you how much i appreciate you,” you reply, your eyes locked with his. he promises to return the favor, making sure to worship you just as lovingly.

mingyu realizes your blowjob has turned into worship when your mouth moves slowly over every part of him. “you’re taking your time,” he comments, his voice husky. “i love it.” “gyu, your cock is my favorite. i love making you feel good.” he looks at you with adoration, “take your time, my love. i love watching you.”

seokmin finds your cock worship cute, but feels guilty because he can only think about fucking your face as you look at him with those lovingly eyes. “you’re perfect,” you murmur, kissing his length. “i love you so much.” “god, i just want to fuck your face,” he admits, his voice full of lust and really guilty. “but you’re so sweet...”

seungkwan smirks, though you can see the struggle in his eyes. “do you like that? you like to know how perfect your cock is,” you purr. he answers, his voice trembling, “you know i do, baby. keep talking like that, and i’ll show you just how much i love it.”

vernon’s cheeks are bright red as he bites his lip, trying to hold back a moan. he’s not sure how to react to this kind of attention. “oh, really?” he replies licking his lips. “keep talking, i love hearing you worship me.” he admits, struggling with the intense pleasure and your adoring words. he’s clearly having a hard time keeping it together.

chan teases you back at first, but when you say, “your cock always makes me feel so satisfied, chan. no other cock feels as good as yours.” he loses it. his head falls back, and he feels a knot in his stomach tightening “fuck,” he groans. “you’re going to make me cum just from talking, i can’t even think straight.”

[rivalcobalt]

Okay actually yknow what, I'm just gonna do this on here cause I've been agonizing over this for too long

Firstly to prove I'm not insane, and I guess to his credit, the author has mentioned ONS as an inspiration-slash-thing-with-similar-vibes on twitter (archived):

That said, I feel like this really undersells it. Like, you can argue about how much inspiration you can take from a work, and ONS itself takes insane amounts of shit from Devilman, but even still it feels very much like a different story, and not like... the entire first half of the book being largely what you'd get if you just ported the plot of S1 of ONS over into a YA novel with and then altered who the love interest was.

This is long enough already (talking like nearly 4 pages point form on google docs) so I'm just copying it over as is. I only read the book once, so honestly this may have even missed some things. I'd put more effort into this but honestly idk how many people are gonna see this anyways.

Tl;dr no fucking way did you just "watch this while editing"

The Flood || unnamed apocalypse virus

Man-made virus

Kills most of the human population (ons' explicitly kills off 90%, the Flood has killed near 9 billion (earth's population when it was released)/appears to be a comparable rate)

Intentionally caused by Angels cult/Hyakuya Sect + JIDA (revealed in manga/LNs only)

Angels cult || vampires:

Signaturely wear white robes/uniforms + capes

Ons vampires are associated with (fallen) angels

New Nazareth/Sanguinem (city for cult/vampires that protagonist escapes from)

Don't want any more of their kind made (Angels forcing Angel parents to drown their newborns, vampires noted to be generally opposed to making more vampires for unexplained reasons; iirc only progenitors are able to sire and they're supposed to get permission from the vampire council first)

Angels cult || Hyakuya Sect

Religious cult

Doing human (S)eraph experiments

Benji & Theo/Yuu & Mika are children of cult members who use them as test subjects

Causes virus on purpose (manga/LNs only)

Responsible for creating Graces/Horsemen of John (manga/LNs only)

Benji || Yuu:

Only successful version of the (S)eraph experiments

Not fully in control of powers yet/powers emerge over the course of the story

Child of Angels/Hyakuya Sect cult members

Brought to New Nazareth/Sanguinem under the age of 12 and lives there for 4-5 years before escaping

Grow up in New Nazareth/Sanguinem with Theo/Mika during those years

Important family member dies as they try to escape together

Son of cult members

Posesses (S)eraph abilities from being experimented on by cult

Joins ALC/JIDA in their front-line forces after escaping and being found by Nick/Guren

Seraph || seraphs (humans possessing seraph gene and have ability to turn into them)

Aim to wipe out humanity (but this can be controlled by protagonist with effort)

Very powerful

Created via human experimentation on children by the religious cult that caused the virus

Picture of Yuu in complete seraph form in ons tweet from author

Theo || Mika:

Curly/wavy blond hair and blue eyes

Protagonist's childhood best friend

In love with protagonist, debatably reciprocated

Child of Angels/Hyakuya Sect cult members

Grows up in New Nazareth/Sanguinem with protagonist, but didn't escape with them

Wants to get protagonist away from ALC/JIDA and live with them

Seen in whites of the vampires/Angels for the majority of the story

Remains affiliated with the vampires/Angels (Theo sides with Angels & Mika is turned)

Soldier for the Angels/vampires

Protagonist often recalls memories of being in the cult/vampire city together as children

Protagonist thinks of them as someone they'll never see again after escaping (Theo stayed with cult, Yuu thinks Mika is dead)

Mika is revealed to be the son of the first vampire, a fallen angel, meaning he's also an angel (manga only)

Other (S)eraph besides Benji/Yuu, but not a fully functional one (Theo injects himself with a failed version of Seraph, Mika's seraph gene is dormant)

Theo's angry outbursts may be based on Mika's anger (though who they lash out at is very different)

Theo's character differences from Mika are almost all traits commonly found in other characters also influenced by Ryou Asuka (betrays protagonist, parallel to protagonist due to similarities but on opposing sides of conflict) (not sure if author knew about Mika being heavily from Ryou or just subconsciously knew the archetype via consuming other anime/manga/JRPGs/etc or just a really funny coincidence)

Upon escaping New Nazareth/Sanginem, Benji's dad/Mika is killed

Nothing can be done to save them

Bleeding out as Benji/Yuu tries to save them as a specific similar imagery (plus I guess gaping hole wounds specifically mentioned (from being shot in the head/arm thrust through stomach respectively))

Specific memories of looking at a map together to plan their escape

Yuu/Benji is forced to keep running alone to the only way out (only bridge out of Acheson/only tunnel out of Sanguinem)

Cult is using human experiments to create humans with the seraph gene/martyrs to turn into Seraph

(S)eraphs aim to wipe out the rest of humanity

The name. Are you kidding me

Protagonist is the only fully successful experiment

Main character and childhood best friend are children of parents in cult

(In the end) main character and childhood best friend are both (S)eraph experiments

The way the Flood is killing Benji has similarities to Yuu in his incomplete seraph form

Dripping blood and black fluid (Yuu: from wings and left eye, right sclera filled with blood and left eye may have burst upon transforming, Benji: from wounds from Seraph decomposing him)

Spitting up black fluid

at a later incident, Yuu's seraph form is triggered by multiple organs rupturing. Benji's organs are liquefying inside him and coming up in chunks as part of the Seraph transformation

Theo's death after injecting himself with Dominion-12 focusing on his shot-through left eye looking like a black hole is similar to Yuu's left eye blacked out by anime gore censor circle in incomplete seraph form

Same type of post-apocalyptic setting: 

Plants beginning to cover over a wrecked city (only a few years after the virus broke out, so not super heavily overgrown yet)

Skyscrapers and concrete brutalist architecture specifically shown. Downtown core type of stuff

Graces || Horsemen of John

Created by Angels/Hyakuya Sect (result of Flood virus/called by 6th trumpet (seraph) of seraph experiments)

Beasts that kill humans, just to finish killing off the population

Can be called upon/created/controlled by (S)eraphs

Described as both horselike and spiderlike

Ribs protruding out of chest, fangs, mouths in unusual places, and I think wings (not sure about Graces on that one) are common traits

Picture of a Horseman included in author's tweet about ons

ALC || JIDA

Wear all black

Surviving humans outside of New Nazareth/Sanginem

Fight against Angels/vampires

Rescue Benji/Yuu after they escape New Nazareth/Sanguinem

Secretly aim to use Benji/Yuu's (S)eraph abilities for their own gain

The Watch || Shinoa Squad

ALC/JIDA Moon Demon Company front lines squad

Comprised of teenagers

Protagonist joins them after escaping New Nazareth/Sanguinem to fight back against the Angels/vampires

Cormack is debatably based on Kimizuki (red/pink hair, asshole personality, rare bits of kindness show through exterior (when Cormack prioritizes giving Benji his jacket to block smoke while ALC is on fire, but not nearly as nice of a guy under it all as Kimizuki)

Aisha is like… maybe bastardized Mitsuba if you just take her emotional outburst parts, but I might be reaching on that

Nick || Guren 

Leader of ALC & the Watch/Moon Demon Company (strongest section of front-line soldiers in JIDA)

Black hair & eyes (Guren's eyes are dark purple, but could be interpreted as stylized black)

Finds Benji/Yuu after their escape and brings them into their group

Nick is literally just Guren in personality if you age him down a few years and add autism and make him nicer under the exterior. Like even the way he talks and him being mentioned dramatically stomping his leg up on furniture during speeches 

Heading ALC/JIDA's intentions to use Benji/Yuu for their own gain

Dehumanizes protagonist yet also having a bit of affection towards them (more debatable for Guren, but he has some rare moments of being caring towards Yuu in a more older sibling/fatherly way)

Erin || Shinoa

Another leader within the ALC/JIDA (though Erin isn't a soldier/in the Watch)

Sympathetic towards Benji/Yuu, protests against Nick/Guren directly for how they treats them

Pastel pink/purple feminine aesthetic

Wears hair at least partly in braids

Benji & Theo's reunion in Reformation Faith Evangelical Church || Yuu & Mika's reunion on the battlefield in Shinjuku

Reunite at first major battle protagonist participates in, but not their first (iirc both only have one minor fight between joining ALC/JIDA squad and this one)

One approaches other from behind, other only realizes who they are a moment after turning around

On opposite sides as ALC/JIDA vs Angels/vampires

"[Name]? Is that you?"

Benji holds a knife to Theo's throat || Yuu stabs Mika through the chest

Theo/Mika went along to fight specifically to find Benji/Yuu

"Abandon everything and run away with me" || "I came here to follow you. I couldn't let the city take you alone. If it wants you, it has to take me too."

Theo/Mika wants to separate Benji/Yuu from the ALC/JIDA (but Mika has good reason, while Theo wants Benji to come back to the cult)

Forced to separate again at end of fight

Picture of Yuu stabbing Mika from this scene is also on ons tweet from author

In general, first half follows the escape from Sanguinem/New Nazareth leaving behind a dying family member who tried to escape with the protagonist but died to let them get away -> get found by JIDA/The Watch upon escape and rescued by Guren/Nick with the intention of using Yuu/Benji as a weapon against those he escaped from due to his nature as a human experiment -> join JIDA/The Watch, meet other members and the leader Guren/Nick -> do some missions with them -> reunite with previous friend-slash-love interest they had left behind (Mika/Theo) at first major battle as soldiers for opposing sides and are forced to part again progression, which isn't super unique but still very specific, and given everything else... yeah

This is by far not the first time an English work has copied a Japanese work and was praised for originality, but "gay trans YA novel rips off mediocre gay vampire shounen" has to be conceptually the funniest and yet there still seem to be 0 google results about it

[milkloafy]

PLAYING FAVORITES — ALHAITHAM

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: alhaitham is a strict landlord. he hates when people leave the front door unlocked, he hates when people forget to put their dishes away. but most of all, he hates when people do not use coasters! ⋆｡˚ ❀ contents: fluff, crack LOL, roommate au, reader is roomies with alhaitham and kaveh :3, kaveh is kaveh, alhaitham is kinda silly goofy, alhaitham kinda simping for reader :> as he should

Not many things annoyed Alhaitham. 

He paused, thinking about that statement for a while. It was a lie. 

Many things did, in fact, annoy him.

But in this moment, nothing irked him more than the sight of a glass of ice water melting on his nice wooden table with no coaster underneath. And he suspected he knew exactly who the culprit was. 

“Kaveh,” said Alhaitham in frustration, his voice tired and short. “How many times do I have to tell you to use a coaster? I don’t buy them for no one to use.”

Kaveh had just taken one step into the house, and before he had a chance to breathe in the familiar air, Alhaitham was already on his case. Typical behavior for these two former friends. 

With a roll of his eyes, Kaveh sighed in indignation. “And how many times do I have to tell you, I started using those hideous coasters after the first time you told me!”

“Do you see the glass of water full of condensation on the table?” asked Alhaitham, folding his arms across his chest. He was unamused. He knew Kaveh was the cause of this. Who else could it possibly be? 

“Yes, that’s how I know it wasn’t me this time.”

Alhaitham raised his brow in question. 

“Do you think I drink water?” Kaveh retorted. “If that were my glass, it’d be wine.”

A snort escaped Alhaitham’s mouth but he didn’t reply. As much as he hated to admit it, Kaveh had a point. 

“But then, who else could have done such an atrocious, uncivilized, crass thing—?”

“Good morning, guys!” 

Alhaitham glanced down a hall and saw your sleepy but smiling figure rubbing at your eyes and yawning.  

“What’s all the noise about?” you wondered, shuffling over to the wooden kitchen table and taking a sip of melted ice water from the glass without a coaster underneath it. “You woke me up from my nap.”

His eyes widened at the sight before attempting to regain composure. Unfortunately for Alhaitham, Kaveh noticed as well. 

“Hah!” Kaveh let out a loud, incredulous laugh, looking pointedly at Alhaitham and wiping a tear of pleasure away. “I love saying this— I told you so!”

Alhaitham glared at him to shut up. 

“What did you tell him?” you asked, gaze bouncing between the two men in front of you, both confused and intrigued. 

“That I’m not the uncivilized roommate this time!” 

You blinked. “Pardon?”

“You don’t use a coaster,” explained Kaveh, speaking up for Alhaitham since Alhaitham seemed to be tongue-tied. “And our landlord over there is pissy about the melted ice staining his precious wood table.”

Your mouth opened in realization and you immediately turned to Alhaitham with apologetic eyes. “Can a glass of water really do that to such sturdy wood? I’m sorry, I didn’t know…”

Kaveh waited expectantly for the scolding to come. Alhaitham would rip you apart like he did Kaveh, and Kaveh would get to say he was right all along. And perhaps, Alhaitham would even feel a little guilty for assuming the worst of him.

But instead, all Kaveh heard Alhaitham say was, “It’s okay.”

“What—?” Kaveh protested, but was pointedly ignored. 

“Water can be wiped off the surface,” Alhaitham said, trying to reassure you. “In most cases, the stains can be removed if you know how to remove them.” 

Your body relaxed at his words and you smiled sheepishly at him. “Oh, that’s a relief! Still, I don’t want to risk ruining your furniture!” 

The corner of Alhaitham’s lips twitched into a small smile of his own. “I have coasters laid out on most tables. They might be effective in preventing water stains in the future.”

Nodding profusely, you reached toward the center of the dining table and clutched a coaster between your hands. “I will use this all the time!” you promised. “And, I’m sorry again…”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Alhaitham with a shrug. 

Kaveh stood there watching the bizarre interaction with his mouth agape. “What kind of favoritism is this?”

Alhaitham glared at Kaveh as you asked him, “What do you mean?”

“Ask the landlord,” Kaveh deadpanned. 

When you looked at Alhaitham, all he could do was hide a smile. Maybe he did play favorites at times. But when it came to you, how could he not? Alhaitham was levelheaded and rational when it came to most things, so he figured it was okay for him to lead with his emotions for just one thing in his life for once— You. 

Laughing to himself, Alhaitham decided Kaveh would simply have to get over it. 

[dollfacefantasy]

second thoughts ♡

toji fushiguro x fem!reader

your ex keeps popping into your head during sex with toji, so he'll just have to make sure you can't think at all instead

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, size kink, dumbification, mentions of intrusive thoughts

tags: @gor3-hound @nexysworld

"Right here," he growls, "Look right here. Right in my fuckin' eyes."

His large hand held your head in place by your jaw. He gives it a sharp jerk, jostling your thoughts into place. Making sure you're completely focused on him. His lower half thrusts against you hard and fast, stretching you out with each rock of his hips.

"'m lookin'" you whine, your lips parting as little mewls fly out.

"Good. Good girl," he grunts.

The muscles in his abdomen flex as he keeps pounding into you. He wasn't taking it easy on you tonight. He was determine to make sure you couldn't think of anything but him.

The past couple of weeks things had been off between you two. Since you started dating, your relationship had always been very physical. You had sex once a day at minimum, and when he wasn't inside of you, he had a hand somewhere on your body. He may have struggled with true intimacy, but physicality came easy.

The problem he'd noticed recently was you didn't seem as into it as you usually were. You seemed kind of spaced out. You got pretty quiet when you were typically vocal.

His first reaction was insecurity. Was he not pleasing you? Were growing bored of him? The possibility of that unnerved him to his core, but he tried to convince himself those couldn't be true. You never denied him when he initiated, and you still loved to cuddle and hang off his arm whenever you could.

After another round of you looking distracted while he was balls deep, he finally just had to ask.

"Sorry..." you'd said, looking up at him sheepishly, "I just... I'm having trouble focusing."

Your tone almost made him feel guilty for asking, but your reasoning didn't answer all his questions. He knew you had trouble with concentration and intrusive thoughts sometimes. He just didn't think it would apply to this.

"Focusing?" he murmured, ducking down to plant some kisses on your cheek, "Am I not doing it right, baby? You know... I'm open to pointers."

"No... it's not that. It's just..." you continue. You hesitate as to whether or not you should actually tell him.

"C'mon, angel face," he said, nuzzling your jaw, "You know you can tell me. I want you to feel good too."

"You do make me feel good," you reassured, "It's just that I can't get my brain to be quiet. And when we're doing it, I keep thinking of my ex boyfriend, and it doesn't feel good. I don't like him at all, it's just like my mind wants to bug me."

Even though the idea of you thinking about another man during sex causes jealousy to flare within him, he reins in the instinctive anger he feels. By the pained look on your face, you clearly were just as displeased with it as he was. And while it hadn't happened in a while, he couldn't pretend like he'd never had his late wife dance through his thoughts in the heat of the moment.

So he didn't make you feel bad about it. He sighed and told you it was ok. You wanted to finish though and so he got you both to finish. He held you after like always and let you fall asleep against his side, but in his own mind, he planned for things would be different next time. There was no way he was gonna let some other guy keep you from enjoying yourself with him.

That's what led the both of you to now. He keeps your gaze locked with his own as fills you to the brim. Your eyes are glossy but with the haze of pleasure now rather than distraction, and he can't enough of it.

"That's right, babydoll. It's all me now, isn't it?" he coos lowly in your ear.

"Mhm," you whimper and nod, your head bobbing extra from his momentum.

"No room for anyone else," he grunts and digs his fingers into the plush of your cheeks.

Your lips puff out under the pressure, and he leans down to mash his mouth against your own. The kiss is wet and sloppy, your saliva and his mixing together while he nips at your bottom lip. He ruts into you faster, his breaths growing more ragged.

"Fuck.. Toji," you whimper arching your back and pressing your tits up against his chest.

"That's all you're gonna be able to say when I'm done with you, sweet thing," he says.

You whine and nod. That was what you wanted. Just him. If he was the only thing on your mind, you were happy. A big, dazed smile drifts to your features to match your fucked out eyes.

"That's a biiiiig smile, princess," he coos mockingly, "Who's making you smile like that?"

"You are," you whimper.

"Right. No one else can make you smile like that," he says.

You nod again and yelp when his cock rams into a sweet spot inside you. He chuckles at the sound and lifts his hands to rest above your head, caging your body below his.

"My baby. You're all mine. Mine to fuck dumb every. single. night," he pants.

"Don't want anyone else. Just you," you babble and drag your nails down his back.

"I know it," he says.

He then quickly reaches down, securing your hips with an iron grip and fucks into you as deep as possible. You see stars stars and let out a sound you can't control. You tighten around him like a vise, keeping him nice and deep where you need him.

"My Toji," you slur and bring your own hands back up to slide through his hair.

He moans quietly, and his eyes flutter shut. His hips sputter a bit as he feels his release creeping up on him.

"Gonna cum soon, dollface. Get you nice and full of me so even when I pull out, you know who that pussy belongs to," he mumbles.

You mewl in ecstasy, eager to feel him shoot deep inside you.

It doesn't take long for you to get your wish. His body lowers against yours, his flushed, sweaty skin sliding against your flesh. He pumps into you desperately with a groan as he drains himself between your tight, velvety walls.

He lets it all sink inside you before pulling out. His cock is still slick with your arousal. He leans back and pushes your thighs up, taking a look at your pussy stuffed full of his cum. Just how it should be.

Up top, you were still blissed out. He huffs out a laugh at your drooping eyes and contented expression.

"How you feeling, baby?" he asks and crawls back on top of you to give you some lazy smooches.

You hum and rub your nose against his cheek. Words were too hard right now in the best way.

He smirks and nips at your nose teasingly.

"Head all clear?" he whispers.

"Mhm," you say with satisfaction, opening your eyes wider and taking in the face of the man who had you now, mind and body.

[xazse]

Long blurb before I go to bed but thinking about suguru and Satoru with a hybrid KittyGirl!Reader

LISTEN THIS IS NASTY AND SATORU AND SUGURU ARE A LITTLE OOC AND MEAN! AND NOT PROOFREAD!!!! Some things may repeat

I’ll expand on this if y’all want

You are just too adorable constantly squeezing yourself in between them on movie nights or placing yourself dead on top of them even when it’s blazing hot, every attempt to gently nudge you off is met with a little anger and them eventually giving in to the cute expression you make, it’s your attempt to try to dominant them but you don’t realize you aren’t as fearful or scary as you think you are.

Suguru being the most non-childish owner means he has to take on the role of being “mean” as Satoru puts it, when you aren’t listening to either of them, just being a straight up brat he sometimes has to raise his voice, and of course it’s always a last resort! Him and Satoru hate that they have to do that but eventually when you realize how serious they are the waterworks start up. Satoru is immediately cuddling up to you and guiding you to the couch with Suguru in tow, they’re both cooing at you, and offering you small hugs and kisses, all they ask is for you to just listen.

Satoru won’t admit it but he kinda loves when you cry, it drives him wild when those tears fill your eyeline and come abruptly. It makes his cock twitch in a sense, he’ll guide you like always to sit on his lap and tell him all about it, of course he’s sympathetic towards you, but on a rare occasion he’ll start feeling you up lightly, giving you kisses and each kiss he’ll deepen and deepen, until he’s sucking on your tongue, making his poor girl all dizzy and horny.

Suguru’s guilty pleasure is when he’s really worked up in the moment with kissing, he’ll guide your head towards his nipple, it doesn’t take not even a minute before you’re wrapping your pretty lips around one and sucking lightly. He watches you like a hawk through lust lidded eyes, he finds his hands slipping into his sweats and squeezing his cock. You’re making a mess around his nipple, spit slowly making its way down his chest. Suguru begins stroking himself, making sure to pay extra attention to his tip. You notice the way his breathing picks up and your attempt to pull away is met with him pulling your head back to his nipple, you being horny and dumb go right back to sucking.

Satoru teases you by pulling on your tail to get a reaction when he’s really bored, he knows it’ll get you riled up enough to start play fighting with him, you’re biting and nipping at him and he is doing the exact same to you, Suguru steps in and tells you both to quit it, giggling silently when he turns his back and find you both getting quick hits on each other.

Suguru and Satoru love when you’re nice and pliant for them, easily spreading your legs for Suguru so he can finger your cunt, or you easily opening your mouth so Satoru can slowly push his cock in your mouth, he’s gentle at the start to prepare you to take him deeper. He’ll move so you can give attention to his fat balls, groaning lowly on how ur such a good girl for being so obedient.

Sometimes if you’ve been a little too much to handle Satoru and Suguru will do something you hate and love the most, Satoru will bend Suguru over in front of you, slowly pushing onto all fours and into an arch, pulling his pants down to expose his plump ass, You attempt to move towards them but Satorus sharp voice tells you no, and to stay put, he adds on that you aren’t allowed to touch yourself either. Satoru lines his weeping tip up with Suguru’s hole, slowly pushing himself in. They both groan in pleasure, making sure to emphasize just how good the stretch feels to you, Satoru can feel him twitching and needing more and more he’ll give. He begins slipping inside of him and pulling out but not all the way, his hips slam back down and Suguru moans lewdly.

After a while of Satoru fucking Suguru’s tight wet hole, they can see how needy you are, grinding your thighs together to relieve the aching of your pussy, this spurs Satoru on to speed up his pace, Suguru isn’t all there but he is open mouthed panting. You make a slight move, testing Satoru’s wrath, he’s purposefully ignoring you head on, he doesn’t say anything when you begin to move towards Suguru’s head. A Greedy little minx is what you are.

you lift up your pretty dress to expose your panties, a slight purr can be heard lowly coming from you, Satoru knows it’s your way of saying you give up and want attention, very badly. Suguru pulls your bottom half towards his face, spreading your legs as he wastes no time in pushing your sodden panties to the side and licking your cunt, he’s avoiding your clit to mess with you a bit, when you grab a fistful of his hair Satoru is quick to remove it immediately, you don’t get the option to have what you want.

A loud whine slips from your lips, when Suguru continues his assault on your cunt, he’s still torturing you by thinking your clit doesn’t exist. It’ll be a long night filled with tears.

When Suguru is angry he’ll use you like a damn ragdoll, flipping and pinning you down as he fucks his long cock Into your wet pussy, mewling, he’ll even grab the end of your tail and he knows that’ll drive you insane, it’s too sensitive for him to be grabbing with such great force. He wants your orgasm to hurt so bad, and it does, it hits you like a truck, he’s holding you down through it and still moving his hips nonstop. You do sleep so soundly after, looking so peaceful even sometimes drooling.

[luveline]

could you do prince steve casually letting "i love you" slip for the first time on accident during like the most random moment

like maybe he knows he loves her and he’s stressing trying to figure out how to tell her and it slips and he starts rushing out an explanation on how it wasn't supposed to happen that way (and she’s probably freaking out lol but trying to keep it together)

prince steve soulmate au | ty for requesting!

Steve’s laying on a hammock hung between two apple blossom trees behind the royal cabin when you track him down that evening. He doesn’t usually spend time away from you, which sounds weird, but he’s just been so friendly. 

Maybe on a high of finding his soul mate. Maybe because he really thinks you’re as beautiful as he suggests. You still have the memory of you both in your finery, all those jewels and silks, standing across from one another in front of a crowd of strangers as he mouthed, “You look so beautiful.” Emphatically. Like he really meant it. 

“Hi,” you say shyly. 

“Oh, hey,” he says, lifting his head, the hammock rocking slightly in the breeze, “come over here.” 

“Where have you been?” you ask. 

“How clingy of you.” 

“Sorry, just… you’ve spent every minute of the day with me for the last two weeks…” 

His smile turns serious. “I’m kidding! Kidding, and offended it took so long for you to come find me. Come over here.” 

You cross the garden, green grass and small purple daisies crinkling under your feet. You stop by his hammock, but he gestures for you to keep coming. 

“What, you want me to lay down with you? Can that support both of us?” 

“Sure it can, could you quit worrying?” He holds his arms out. 

Getting into a hammock isn’t as easy as he seems to think, but perhaps he’s used to it. You’re not, and you struggle despite his arms out for you, and the leg he plants to stop the whole thing from tipping as you climb in. 

You laugh nervously the whole time, but then you’re in the hammock with him, soft fabric under your backs. You curl into him instinctively. The lemon sconce near the cabin flickers as another breeze kisses your naked arms, but Steve is warm. 

“Wow,” you murmur, looking up through the apple blossoms, “you can already see so many stars.” 

“I know.” You grin as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, under your neck like a cushion. His nose turns to your cheek. You’re hardly ten minutes like that when he talks again, “I love you, you know?” 

You clam up with surprise. Breath pulled out of you on a fishing line, turning to see his face. He’s not messing with you. 

His face falls. “Oh, stars, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to– I mean, I meant to, I do love you, not that you have to tell me you love me.” He bites his tongue and starts again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to thrust it on you like that, I’ve just been thinking it, and I thought there isn’t a better time to tell you because I feel it a lot but that’s not fair. So you don’t have to tell me you love me, or even acknowledge it.” 

Steve squeezes your arm but looks away. “Don’t acknowledge it, actually. That’s my mistake.” 

“I love you too,” you say.

He smells like water chestnuts and heat, his hair permed with hot curlers, and he’s beautiful. He smells nice, tastes sweet as he leans in to kiss you slowly. Pear drops, his guilty pleasure.

You don’t know what to think as his lips part against yours. He sucks in a warm breath. “You do?” he asks, running the backs of his knuckles down your cheek. 

“Mm,” you hum, half a laugh as his touch turns ticklish down your neck, “I do, I love you.” It’s new, but it’s definitely love.

He turns you back in for a slew of slow kissing, only stopping when a rough breeze tips apple blossom petals into your arms. 

“You’re being attacked,” he whispers. It doesn’t feel like it.