#and now my roommate loves it too :D

[eaglefairy]

Mechonis Core.

AAAAA absolute heart attack, I thought we were done in Agniratha and then by sheer random chance we stopped by the Fallen Arm and I realized that we never got the quest for the memory chip in Agniratha. Whoops! That would've been bad!

We're doing a little item collecting before everything goes to shit and this conversation happened: Roommate: "Time to get more..." Me: "Eggplants, yeah." (confused silence) "I call them eggplants because 'aubergine' is just the British word for eggplant." Roommate: "Oh yeahh, I forgot! I just thought they made up a weird name for sci-fi." Me: "No, British English was made up for sci-fi." Roommate: "Oh you're so right."

Roommate: "Wait, so how do Reyn and Sharla work out if Gadolt's alive?" Me: "Eehh..." Roommate: "So he's not alive for long then?"

Egil: *expositing about the Bionis feeding on ether* Roommate: "So? We die on the Bionis and return the ether, it's not a big deal." Me:

Dickson: "Dammit, I was counting on you, runt." Roommate: "Okay listen, Dickson, we tried." Me:

Aha! I've been waiting the whole game for it, but I think Alvis and Meyneth do "interact" at least once: Alvis: So it is her...

I was getting worried because I couldn't think of a single time in game that they interacted and I was beginning to think they didn't ever in canon. Which is like. it'd be crazy if they didn't. It'd be crazy if the game implied that Meyneth didn't know Alvis existed because they never interact in canon. Glad I was wrong about that one.

Roommate: "Why. Does Dickson. Know. EVERYTHING?!" Me: "Well, you are about to find out"

Dickson saying "Let's see who makes it through the battle" goes from banter with Dunban on a first playthrough to Active Threat on repeats

*after Monado Reacts* Reyn: "Ain't you learnt yet, Shulk? If you've got a problem, you tell us about it!" Roommate: "If [Reyn] wasn't here you'd get yourself killed, Shulk"

(Also in reaction to Monado Reacts) Roommate: "I knew Shulk was going to die, I just didn't realize the death arc was going to start now"

Roommate: "Does Shulk die before or after we learn the truth about Dickson?" Me, fucking sweating: "After"

Roommate: "I'm so concerned because this feels like the endgame but I know it's not because there's so much left I have to do!"

"I mean, this can't be the last time we fight Egil. It just can't. There's too much left unresolved for the game to end here, but I don't know how this battle is going to end!"

Oh whoops she lost against Egil the first time but she ended up doing something very interesting: when the energy devices spawned, she ended up targeting one of them with a chain attack while surrounded by other Mechon, which let them just walk right past them. I don't think I've seen that before in this battle!

My roommate has been raring to kill Egil since we first heard his name but she's still happy for Shulk that he decided not to. This game!!! It's so!!!

Roommate: "Arglas. He's not Zanza." Me: "He's not Zanza."

Between Zanza appearing and the fight with Zanza, the only thing my roommate said was one single "what the fuck??" and an "interesting twist to have the life/light(?) guy be evil". Otherwise she was dead silent

Roommate: "Okay, before we continue, we're going to pause you and you're going to tell me everything that just happened."

*seeing the cloud of telethia in the distance* Roommate: "Are those...the Alcamoth people?" *horrified gasp* "NO NO NO THEY'RE NOT NO--"

The thing that finally broke her and made her cry was me confirming for her that her favorite lesbians (Vidian and Lesunia) did get broken up and Lesunia is a Telethia

Roommate doesn't know what to think of Alvis and everything he's done since Zanza's awakening (fair) and I'm just over here almost giggling with glee because she has NO IDEA what kind of secrets he holds

She still loves Dickson

[leeechin]

(ꗃ) dangling charms [nerd sunghoon] ! (mdni)

⋆ in which you test the limits of the cute quiet dork that sat nearby you and your friend during lunch. but what you didn't expect, was to see a whole new side of this quiet dork, in his bed.

⌗ warnings & content: college au! sunghoon and jay are such losers in this oh my god. but i love it. nerd!sunghoon x fem!reader, backshots hehehe, protected sex (cheering) bigdick!hoon, oral (m.rec), fingering, praise, dom!hoon, etc. a lot of kaomojis when reader texts hoon, deal with it lol. early 2010s kind of au as well.

(lee's note: on that nerd sunghoon agenda :p i skimmed through this, not throughly proofread so lmk if you see any errors :D hope u guys enjoy i'm nerv abt this one.) reqs r open don't be afraid !! just read my guidelines first :3

word count: 3.0k

★ masterlist | post queue

"i love you y/n, but i don't think it is genuinely possible to even get him within the same vicinity of you that is not on campus.." gaeul comments, taking a sip of her drink.

you sigh in response, not bothering to hide the fact that you're eyeing park sunghoon, the cute quiet nerd you sat a couple seats away in your econ class. also, a couple tables away where you and gaeul were sitting at in the campus' dining hall. "what if i just asked him to tutor me—? it would benefit me and get me close to him."

"do you realize how crazy you sound right now?!" gaeul chokes, voice a little too loud causing the surrounding tables by the two of you to give a look.

"then i'm insane because i'm gonna ask him to tutor me right now—!" you exclaim, grabbing a piece of gum from the pack that was on the table, unwrapping the foil and popping it into your mouth. gaeul hypes you up, giving you a small applause in which you both giggle.

approaching his table, you felt a nervous tinge in your chest, choosing to ignore that feeling, you strut with confidence, stopping until you're standing directly in front of sunghoon. he looks up with an eyebrow raised, shutting off his laptop that he was doing an assignment on. "can i help you—?" loud smacks of you chewing the gum obnoxiously filled the awkward silence between the two of you, but you smile at him. "park sunghoon right?"

he nods, face still filled with confusion as to why such a pretty girl is at the table he occupied by himself on most days. "you have the best marks in our econ class.. and i was wondering if you could help me revise this paper i failed in that class.." you sheepishly asked, hand scratching the side of your head as you await a response.

"sure i can." sunghoon's response is short and quick, tapping his ipod that was connected with his wired headphones on his lap, waiting for you to say something. "great—! you should write your contact information for me down!" you beam. pulling out of your arm bag a mini notepad and pen, handing it to sunghoon. he takes a quick look at the character charm that dangled on a beaded string on your pen, laughing to himself in his head at how cute and amusing you were. carefully examining what he wrote before handing it back to you, sunghoon gives a small smile in return as well.

you thank sunghoon and practically skip back to your table, gaeul looking in shock as you hold up the once empty page of your notepad, filled with his contact info.

sunghoon's enjoying a peaceful dinner with his roommate when he hears a ding! from his phone. "this is the first time i've ever heard your phone during dinner." jongseong comments, stuffing his mouth full of instant ramen. "it's probably a scam or—" sunghoon remembers you asking him to tutor you. he scrambles to grab his phone, flipping it open to read your message.

"surely a scammer alright." jongseong sarcastically retorts. "shut up jay!" sunghoon yells flustered, reading the strings of messages you left to him.

(xxx) (xxx) (xxxx):

heyyyy :p it's y/n :3

turned out the deadline professor jung gave me to revise this paper in a few days (¬_¬)

soooo i was wondering if we could meet up in a couple hours ^_^ or we could do tmr cuz it’s a weekend and ur probably free ♪( ´θ｀)ノ

—

you weren't wrong.. but ouch that kinda gave sunghoon a realization that he really doesn't do anything besides studying 24/7 and being a dork with jongseong.

"no way.. you're texting a girl—!" jongseong gapes, peeking over sunghoon shoulder's to read his inbox.

"god we really are such womanless losers." sunghoon shakes his head, clicking his keyboard to respond to you.

—

(:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) your pov ⋆ ࣪.

[hoonie ! ٩( ᐛ )و_^]

Hello Y/n

Yes. I could meet with you in a couple of hours

Your place or mine?

[you]

my roommates have company over (-.-;)y-~~~

is ur place okay ?? :D

[hoonie ! ٩( ᐛ )و_^]

Yeah, that's fine with me

My roommate is home too, but don't worry, Jongseong is very quiet

My address is: ________ 8:00 just to confirm with you.

[you]

yayyyyy ok (^｡^) c u in a couple !

thx hoonie once again !! i rlly owe u 4 this (*´∀｀*)

—

you're kicking your feet up and down after confirming your plans with sunghoon, flipping your phone shut. you call for gaeul outside of the hall to tell her the news and to help you pick a outfit.. hopefully not overdoing it.

touching up your lipgloss and twirling yourself in front of your mirror to finalize your look, you're more than ready.

"don't get him too flustered y/n.. he's probably never felt the touch of a woman." gaeul warns, handing you your keys. oh how gaeul was so wrong about sunghoon..

you knock on sunghoon's door, swinging open to meet eyes with his roommate, jongseong. he stares at you in disbelief not thinking that the plans in sunghoon's inbox would actually happen. "hi! i'm y/n, is sunghoon here—?"

"no fucking way." jongseong comments, completely ignoring your question. his eyes are opened wide like saucers and all you could do it at the door step is fiddle with the bottom hem of your short pink skirt and wait.

"is she already here jay— oh. hello y/n." sunghoon sees you up close, once again. he kind of already knew you were on the way when he heard the dangling charms on your arm bag down the hall as you took your steps closer to his front door. and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't attracted to you. "hi hoonie—!" you smile over at the door frame, looking over jongseong's shoulder. god that new nickname made him want to drop at his knees.

"s—sorry! i should've let you in since i've opened the door—!" jongseong stutters. you throw your manicured hand out, brushing it off. "oh it's okay jay. do you guys have any drinks—? not alcoholic or anything." you self invite yourself to open their fridge that was in the kitchen right by their entry. "um y/n." sunghoon mumbles, "hmm—?"

"please take off your shoes.." right. feeling slightly embarrassed, you say a quick apology and kick off your shoes, leaving them on the shoe mat. "don't worry about it." sunghoon reassured. walking back into the kitchen, you examine their fridge, wow. they really had a lot of choices, and a lot of food from packaged from the local convenience store. but enough of that, you settle with a strawberry milk cart and shut the fridge door.

"sooooo where are we gonna study—?" you turn to sunghoon, sipping your drink and awaiting a response. "in my room.. jay is playing a very important match of star craft in the the living room." sheepishly rubbing his head and gesturing to jay sitting on the couch, that had his eyes glued to the tv monitor as he started the game.

"okay-!" you say, following sunghoon into his room. you notice the lack of decorations, only a couple of figurines on his shelves, mainly filled with textbooks. "you sure do have a lot of dangling charms." sunghoon comments, scanning your arm bag and your phone charm.

"is it a problem—?" your eyebrows raises, eyes following sunghoon direction to your bag. "no no no! not at all, it was just an observation—!" quick to deny with no doubt.

you grin, only seeing how long it would until sunghoon gives in to your charm.

"so for this problem you can—" you interrupt sunghoon, "can we take a break?" he blinks in response, "sorry hoon i interrupted you—" "don't worry y/n. and yeah, we can take a break." your lips stretch into a little grin, getting up from where you and sunghoon were both sitting on the end of his bed, littered with papers and textbooks.

you go to his desk where you left your bag, bending over to grab a a container of green grapes. you purposely take a long time searching your bag and giving sunghoon the view of a lifetime; your mini skirt showing your little lace panties that hugged your chubby folds. sunghoon bits his lips to suppress a groan, feeling his erection growing.

sunghoon grabs a pillow to place over his lap, in hopes of his bulge would go down. you smirk to yourself, knowing that sunghoon has had more than enough time to see what was under your miniskirt. "want a grape hoonie—?" you offer, plopping yourself beside sunghoon on the end of his bed again. sunghoon nods his head.

holding out your container for him, sunghoon grabs a small handful of grapes, the both of you guys eating in silence. and you don't know what possessed you, but after the container was emptied, you lifted the pillow that was on his lap. and there behold; his boner.

he scrambles to grab the pillow again, but you grab at his wrist with your smaller hand. god did you just the veins and how thick his digits were. "y/n i'm sorry i—" sunghoon panics to find a choice of words, lucky for him, you interrupt. "you're rock hard hoonie.. because of me?"

"mmph. fuck. yeah." sunghoon groans, seeing you climb over his lap and straddle him. "let me take care of your little problem down there for you hoonie.." you offer.

"oh my god hoonie—! right there!" you moan, body perched against his bigger frame as he's stuffed two fingers deep in your sopping cunt, your panties being hooked to the side. "clenching around my fingers so tight, fuck. i knew this was planned from the start." he grunts in response, scissoring and twisting his digits.

it was so messy. you were a crying, sobbing, mess from the pleasure of sunghoon's digits hitting you so deep, reaching places you could never with your measly little hands. and never did you expect this from sunghoon..

you expected sunghoon to be a nervous, stuttering mess, but instead he was calm and collected, the one that was in control and power of letting you cum.

sunghoon's free hand was under your low-cut baby tee, grasping at your juicy tits that spilled out of your bra, taking his hand out from underneath your shirt and tugging it off and over your head, effortlessly unhooking your bra alongside it. fat tears rolling down your cheeks, smudging your eye makeup as you feel sunghoon speed the pace of his fingers, making you see stars and have you completely ruined at his mercy. breath hitching when you feel the coil in your stomach about to snap.

"just hold it out a bit longer for me, okay—?" he coos at you, tucking the strands of hair that draped over your eyes behind your ears. "hoonie please! s' so good." you babble, hands tugging at the collar of his shirt. you stretched it out so much that his collarbone showed.

a bead of sweat trickles down your forehead when sunghoon grants you permission to let go, spongy walls spasming around his digits as you crash forward and land your face against his chest. "that's it. did so well for me." sunghoon hums in satisfaction, licking your sweet release off his fingers and rubbing the side of your hips affectionately, pulling your panties back in place. you frown at sunghoon, hoping he wasn't done.

"i still haven't taken care of your problem down there.."

shuffling off his lap on the bed, you scramble and drop down to your knees; heels of your feet hitting against the plush skin of your ass. eyes looking up to sunghoon, awaiting. "shiiit, you're so pretty." he groans, seating himself up and off the edge of his bed.

looking down at you with your begging eyes that were inviting him to ruin you. and boy were you going to have such a story for gaeul when you get back home. "hoonie.. fuck my mouth?" you ask, hand reaching down to rub at your neglected clit. and who was he to refuse you, especially when you said please. pulling down his sweatpants along with his boxers, sunghoon is much much bigger than what you initially expected.

"oh…" your jaw almost dropping, but you contain yourself to just gulping nervously. "not big enough for you—?" he teases, hand coming down to grasp his length and pump himself as he waits for you put your mouth on him. "no.. you're too fucking big hoon. you're gonna destroy me." you rasp out, watching him take his hand off himself and replacing it with your own, making sunghoon hiss at the contact. he chuckles at your response, "we'll make it fit, don't worry— fuck—!" he moans, breath hitching when you try to take as much of his inches into your mouth, choking at about halfway. you look up, pleading for him to help you out. and so he did. hand grabbing at a chunk of your hair to create a makeshift ponytail and push his hips forward with a few experimental thrusts.

you didn't show him any signs of stopping, so sunghoon continued. he lets out a long groan feeling his tip his the back of your throat, along with the sensations of your harsh sucks. you moan around his thickness at the slight of his thick framed glasses fogging up with his heavy pants. your hands that were placed on on his thighs tapping twice to let you breathe in which he immediately pulled off of you. sunghoon holds his hand out for you grab and pull you up, wiping the saliva that was dribbling down the sides of your lips. "okay—?"

"s' okay." you giggled reassuringly, sunghoon smiles and places a kiss on your lips, and you could taste yourself from your previous orgasm from earlier against him. "think you can handle more..?" sunghoon asks with an eyebrow raised. "yeah. i want you to fuck me." you shrug, pushing him backwards so that he sat on his bed, initiating that you were gonna ride him, but no no no.

sunghoon manhandles you until your flat on your stomach. flipping your already hiked skirt up, not making much of a difference, kneading at the soft flesh of your pantie clad ass as you arch your back, wiggling yourself back at him for more. "so wet for me jesus." he grunts, pulling your now ruined paired down and over your ankles, tossing it somewhere in his room. he pulls his own shirt over his head and you oogle at his toned body, sunghoon laughs at your expression.

"only for you hoon. please. wanna feel your big dick inside me pleasepleaseplease." you beg, pushing your ass back to him in hopes he wouldn't make you wait any longer. sunghoon didn't, you look over your shoulder to see him reach over his nightstand to grab a condom, taking it out of the wrapper and placing it over him, giving a few experimental tugs before aligning the tip with your entrance. breath ragging as you feel him push in slowly, sunghoon groans alongside with your heavy breaths, the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

if this was what heaven was like, sunghoon wouldn’t ever want to leave that place.

pulling out until only his tip was left in you and plunging forward again, sunghoon finds a pace that has you screaming his name like your life depended on it. "ngh—! hoonie harder—!" you shriek, making sunghoon remember that jongseong was still in the apartment and could probably hear what the two of you have been doing. pushing your head into his pillows, he grunts, speeding up the pace of his thrusts that made pleasure seep throughout your whole body.

"god y/n. your pussy feels so fucking good." sunghoon whispers, the room filling with nothing but the slapping sounds of his hips clashing against your ass. you moan into the pillow sheets, gripping his length like a vice and sunghoon wonders if he could ever feel you around him one day without a condom in the way. his hands grip your hips so hard that you know would leave a mark.

"gonna cum hoon. i need to cum hoonie please." you whimper as you lift your head up from his pillows, sunghoon groans again, his deep strokes hitting every right spot in your body. "let go for me y/n." he says, your body gives out, your whole upper half crashing against the soft material of his mattress as you coat his condom covered dick in your creamy white substance. sunghoon stills his movements, finishing inside the condom before pulling out. taking it off of him and twisting it before tossing it in the mini trash can by his bed.

putting his boxers back on and laying himself beside you. pulling you into an embrace as he put his tshirt over your body. the room is no longer filled with a sexual atmosphere, a piercing silence filling the air.

"we didn't fully revise your paper.." sunghoon speaks up, your head resting against his panting chest. you let out a loud laugh, playfully swatting at his shoulder, "god hoon! you just fucked the living life out of me and your already all books and brains again!" "sorry sorry." he chuckles.

"mm it's okay we can revise it tomorrow." you murmur. "after you let me take you out on a date—?" you nod and place a kiss on his lips in agreement.

"you know sunghoon.. i really didn't expect you'd have it in you.." you whisper, eyes half lidded. "what? you thought i was a whimpering virgin who's never felt the touch of a woman—?"

"that's exactly what i thought."

[kuiinncedes]

in new apartment by myself 😎✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️✌️

[darnell-la]

Can i request Logan and a reader with daddy kink...but like, shes afraid of saying that to him because her last partners treated her shitty when it came to it? (like, kinkshaming her, not wanting to take care of her)

summary: After hearing her call him what he never thought he’d love so much, he had to make sure his girl knew she was with a man and not a boy anymore.

———

“You like that, princess? Hm? Tell me you like it, baby doll,” Logan whispered in the girl's ear as he pushed deeper into her. Being fucked by Logan on Wade’s kitchen counter wasn’t something she had planned for the night.

She had thought that because Wade was out, Logan would be too tonight. Her two roommates always scold her for coming in late, telling her it’s dangerous, but she sees no problem if she is with her friends all night.

Tonight was a perfect night to leave, but when she came back to Logan sitting on the sofa, looking right at her, she froze.

He got up and walked towards her slowly, telling her how he should kick her out and back to the expensive college dorm.

Of course, he didn’t mean it, but when y/n’s eyes grew glossy, he couldn’t help but cup her chin and tell her how hard she was to deal with.

“This is what they’ll do you if you keep partying, baby. All this cunt — Ruined and messy because you’d be too weak to fight back,”

Y/n tightly gripped the man’s back, holding herself up as Logan’s hands gripped her waist, pulling her into his thrust.

“Can’t have these boys have their way with you, baby girl. You’re too innocent for that, ain’t that right?” He asked, making the young lady whine with a nod. “Oh, I know,”

Y/n was close. Her vision became blurry as she bit down on her lip, trying to keep in how wild she gets when she cums.

“That’s it — Grip my cock like that, baby. This isn’t the only thing aloud in this pretty cunt,” Logan said, as her heart rate began to rise. She couldn’t keep herself in…

“D-Daddy,” y/n whined low, hoping he would say anything. “What was that?” Logan asked as he pulled his head out of the crook of her neck.

“C-Close,” she said, hoping he’d leave it alone. “Nah uh, princess. You called me daddy,” the man said, still thrusting, but slowly. Y/n whined at how much he was delaying her orgasm.

“P-Please, just keep going,” y/n begged, hands gripping his shoulders as she looked into his eyes. “Nah uh, you say that again,” Logan had fully stopped his thrust, but kept his cock in her.

“No, Logan, please! Please, keep going!” Y/n begged as she tried moving her hips, but he held her still with his grip that was still on her waist.

“Don’t start actin’ up, baby. You’ve done enough of that tonight,” Logan warned. “B-But I need it. I was so close,” she cried low, feeling a tear drop from her eye. The sexual stress and slip-ups affected her hard.

“Why can’t you just say it again, baby? Why so difficult?” Logan asked, but she ignored him and dropped her head. “Hey,” Logan saw as he cupped the girl's chin softly to make her look back up at him.

“What’s up, Bub?” He asked. “I-I just — My last partner didn’t like it and left me for it. Said I was weird and shouldn’t be having sex,” she told her short story.

“And how old was this boyfriend of yours?” Logan asked. “O-Only a couple of years older than me,” y/n said, making the man roll his eyes with a head shake and sigh.

“Little boys like him can’t handle you. He wasn’t man enough for what you had to give him, baby. You’re not weird, you’re perfect. You understand that, baby girl?” He asked. Y/n nodded as he whipped a tear from her cheek.

“Now, call me that again, baby. Be a good girl, and I’ll show you how a real boyfriend would take that word in,” Logan said as he gripped the back of y/n’s head and began his slow thrusts.

“P-Please came me cum, d-daddy,” y/n stuttered, making the man groan low. “That’s it. Keep goin,” the man said as he slowly began to pick up his pace.

“Fuck, I- Please, daddy,” y/n begged as the man moved his hand back to y/n’s cheek. “Ah uh — That’s it. That’s fuckin’ it, baby,” Logan kept his eyes on her as she rolled hers, feeling her high near again.

“Daddy — S-So good, daddy,” y/n whined, clamping down on the man’s cock. The man twitched at her voice, words, and walls. She was perfect. So damn perfect.

“Fuck, yes, baby girl — Cum on daddy's cock. Fuckin’ soak it, baby. Soak it!” Logan snapped his hips, now pounding the younger woman.

“Augh, daddy!” Y/n cried into the man’s shoulder as she relaxed around him, shaking and digging her nails into his arms and shoulders.

“Oh, yes, girl — Cum on daddy's cock,” Logan couldn’t get enough of how good she sounded. She was from heaven. She was made for her. She was a gift, and he’ll no Logan let her leave this house unless he’s with her.

[fillinforlater]

Eleven to One: Hotel Roommating

Male Reader x Ahn Yujin, Choi Yena, Kim Minju, Kim Chaewon

Length: 2014 words

Tags: Daddy kink, thigh kink, thigh fucking, pit licking, teasing, a slap, edging, cumming on skin, pet play, an offer you definitely should refuse but kinda can't, cum eating, missionary, fingering, orgy

TW: the usual, but I would consider this mostly tame... okay, maybe also not LOL

Inspiration: Yujin's outfit (check below (HOLY COW))

(A/N: Sex in the hotel continues... though it might not be the best or longest piece, I promise the ending will make it worth while ;) Have fun!)

“Room Service!"

For a second there, she got you. Fear runs down your back, ice cold, as you grab the door handle. No room service could ever be allowed to see or smell the absolute mess you made here. Especially Chaewon, who leaks down the phallic plastic onto the table, while watching a teary eyed Minju follow you to the door, your cock in her hand. 

Fortunately, you do recognize the voice behind the door. It’s familiar, not some room service lady that could ruin your life and the reputation of at least one popular girl group. You turn the knob and reach for the woman behind the door in the blink of an eye.

“You scared me for a second, you fucking brat,” you yell at Yujin, but that was before you took a look at her outfit. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood right now.”

“Oh, I’m in a good mood too, Daddy,” Yujin teases and gets ready to kick off her shoes, open up her dress and offer herself to you (you know she is in heat; she has been for a while most likely), but you stop her.

“You keep that outfit on,” you order and spin her around. “My cock needs to be in between your thighs while you still look like a Goddess of fertility with that shiny, stupid fucking outfit.”

“Oh Daddy,” Yujin giggles and watches your tip glide in her tight gap. “Wasn’t Minju enough for you? And what happened to Chaewon-unnie?”

“Care to guess?”

“She is one of us now?”

You smirk and lean in to bite your girlfriend’s neck. “One hundred points.” You begin to slowly thrust in between the sweaty trunks that are Yujin’s legs, perfect sculptures of smooth marble, but a lot softer and infinitely more valuable. Yujin hums in pleasure and lifts her arms to reach around your neck while you continue to place marks on hers. There is no concert the next few days, so no one will notice the love bites you place on her. 

“Minju, mind helping me out here?” you suddenly ask and Minju jumps in surprise. You know she is still needy, unsatisfied, but would never touch herself without your permission, so you want to give her a bit of a reward. “Lick our Daeng-Daeng’s pits clean. I promise you, she tastes wonderful.”

“O-okay, Daddy.”

You can see in her eyes that Minju has never done this before. It’s a waste though, so you pull at her strings (she is a good girl after all) and take into view how incredible she looks. Minju sticks out her tongue and drags it across the entire pit. Yujin trembles, her thighs gently swaying around your shaft. An incredible feeling, but what makes it exceptionally great is the lewd sounds the two produce. Tender moans, wet licks, soft bodies rubbing one another to the point where nothing could be more intimate. 

“D-does it tickle, Yujinie?” Minju asks when she switches sides, her hands secretly placed on your own. You both have a hold on the young woman’s hips and Minju’s question goes unanswered when she goes straight to sucking on the opposite sensitive, hairless, sweaty spot. 

Holding back would be offensive. There are the two best thighs wrapped around you, while Minju’s soft belly becomes a home for your tip. With every thrust you poke her and she seems to really enjoy it. Maybe she is—no, she definitely is—thinking that you are pointing at her fertile womb, ready to be filled and bred. That’s why her orbs sparkle the way they do, that’s why she pulls you two into a threeway hug where Yujin gets squeezed and overstimulated at spots she didn’t think could be this sensitive.

“D-Daddy, I thought you were teasing,” Yujin mumbles. “But I feel so good, so hot. Please, cum on me, paint my milky thighs, it would fit them so well.”

“I can feel you melting, baby girl.” You lean in to give her ear a love bite, with all your love and sufficient force to make her dizzy with pleasure. “Since you asked so nicely, I will cover you, claim you with my seed.”

“Thank you, Daddy.” A sudden make-out session ensues after Yujin lowers her arms, leaving Minju jobless and needy as ever. There is salty sweat around her lips and in her mouth while she watches you and Yujin trade sweat saliva in heated passion. Your cock is buried in her gap, then quickly peaks out again as you begin to rapidly fuck it. “I can’t believe you got Chaewon-unnie already. Was it really that easy?”

You both turn your head to the shivering, squeaking but not (yet) dildo-riding Chaewon, whose head might be in even more heat than Yujin. Her face is red like the ball gag in her mouth and the only thing cooling her off are a few tears from her unfocused eyes. You love that she looks so obedient and pathetic, far away from what she dreamed off. Yet you decide to be more than merciful. 

“Minju, how about you put your hands on Chaewon’s hips? Maybe let some of Yujin’s sweat run down her cheeks? I think that should cool her off.”

“Okay, Daddy~”

With a sight like that—Minju behind Chaewon, who desperately looks up to the taller girl, hips in a firm, loving hold; then, Minju drools all over her face and you know that Chaewon is on cloud six, maybe seven, more pleasure yet to come—your orgasm is rapidly approaching. You bend Yujin over a bit, press her thighs back to you to meet your pistoning hips. The swollen cockhead peeks out a few more times before—

A knock at the door.

—you become an artist. Trapped in heavenly softness, you release all of your load on the inside of Yujin’s thighs. You use your throbbing cock like a brush to smear the white goo over more parts of her skin. It has to stick on her and not fall to the carpet floor. With a strained voice, you call out: “Minju, get our new pet in here. And don’t forget to close the door!”

“W-what? Pet?” Yujin tries to catch her breath, but her jaw drops the second she sees Yena run through the door and fall on her knees. “Yena-unnie, what, what is happening?”

“No need to call her Unnie, she is our new pet,” you announce and reach for Yena’s collar. “Isn’t she a beautiful kitten? Kitten, what did I say about clothes, hm?”

“Meow,” Yena responds, very apologetic. You kind of admire her for wearing just this thin, way too short crop top and hot pants that barely cover her small ass, but no kitten would wear those, so she quickly kicks them off, now just as nude as the other girls—most of the other girls.

“Ye-Yena, is this true, you are with Daddy too?” Minju asks, just as perplexed as Yujin is. Yena nods in excitement, while you get a leash for her beautiful pink collar. “But why a kitten?”

“Well, don’t we all like different things?” you ask Minju with a big grin. You secure Yena on the leash and walk her across the room for a couple of steps. “As long as Yena likes it, I think this would be a great addition to our… arrangement.”

“A family pet,” Yujin whispers, all eyes on her. Now it’s out there, this crazy idea. No sane person could say yes to it. Everyone at some point returns to their level-headed, not horny self. The mere suggestion of living together as a quasi-family where sex is boundless and the concept of patriarchy is pushed to ridiculous extremes should push them all away. 

“When I’m the family cat,” Yena suddenly speaks into the tense silence, her voice filled with wonder. “I have to move in with you two. Would that be a problem?”

“No, we have enough space and money,” Yujin quickly responds. “In fact, I think we can cover all your expenses.”

“Sounds good, I’m in. Meow!”

Yena smirks and crawls towards Yujin who stares down at her with love and lust. Suddenly, Yena’s face dives in between Yujin’s thighs and she starts to lick off your cum like it’s ice cream on a hot August day. Yujin mewls, opens her legs a bit more so Yena can get every last drop. 

“Well, I already live with Daddy and Yujin.” Minju looks at the floor, a little embarrassed. She scratches the back of her neck and then shares glances with you and Yujin. “If it’s okay, I will stay with your family, maybe as a sister?”

“That sounds great,” you tell Minju, as your eyes betray you. They are so fixated on Yena’s hunger for your cum, for Yujin’s scent, God, she is devouring your girlfriend. If it weren’t for the stage outfit, Yena surely would’ve pushed her tongue into Yujin’s cunt—who can blame her? IVE’s leader is irresistible. “Your presence is always welcome, Minju.”

“I think Chaewon c-can’t join,” Yujin murmurs, her hand in Yena’s pink strands, sweaty from all the hard cleaning she does to her thighs. Seriously, she starts to leave hickeys there now. You pull at the chain to signal her stop. “She has to stay at the LE SSERAFIM dorm.”

“Well, Chaewon is my best friend and best friend’s usually don’t live with another family,” Minju explains. You put Chaewon’s jaw into your hand and look at her begging eyes. Before you pull out the ballgag, you give her face a quick slap, one that stings for a bit. 

“I bet you think we are all crazy, I get that, but—”

“Don’t defend yourself, Daddy,” Chaewon says, gasps, somehow she gets these words passed her pursed lips while the dildo is deep in her cunt. “As Minju’s friend, I sh-should come over every now a-and then…”

“I’ll make sure to reward you then, my little slut~”

“Thank you, Daddy.” You push the ball gag back into Chaewon’s mouth and give Minju a wink. It’s a sign she thankfully understands and suddenly, Minju makes Chaewon ride the dildo with all her power. A creaming pussy starts to cover the glass table, screams almost make it past the restriction in between her teeth and you can feel her bliss fill the air.

You step close to Yujin. She laughs weakly and shakes her head.

“You’re insane, a madman!”

“Oh yeah?” You reach for the back of her dress and a zip later, Yujin’s excellent body is free. Yena mewls at this first sight and if she had a tail (still on the list of items you have to get her) she would wag it like crazy. “You are probably right, I lost my sanity the first time I met you.”

Yujin giggles and removes the leather end of Yena’s chain from your hand. She puts it in her mouth and with doe, puppy eyes slowly kneels next to her kitten friend. Your cock twitches, obviously. Somewhere in this hotel room filled with the smell and sound of unbridled sex, your phone vibrates. You don’t care. They can leave a message. You have better things to do.

“Looks to me like you’re the insane one, the madwoman.” 

You push her over, on her back. Yujin’s legs wrap around you like Yena’s pussy wraps around your fingers. You push your rehardened cock into that tight, tight little cunt of your girlfriend and fuck her into the carpet with no thoughts. There is nothing but blankness in your head and there will be for the next week or so. Just you and Yujin. And Yena, who sucks on Yujin’s tits and fucks herself on your hand. And Minju, who is thrilled about Chaewon riding that cock through multiple orgasms. Well, maybe Chaewon will be here too. 

Text messages pop up on your phone. They are from Hyewon.

“Hey Daddy, my final day before maternity leave is next week. I need you here earlier though, because someone important wants to do an internship here.

“The one and only

“Jang Wonyoung.”

[luvyeni]

RED STRING THEORY ,, 이동혁

pairings ‎⸝⸝⸝ lee haechan x fem!reader wc. 2k

genre. smut, soulmate au (?)

🦢◞ includes ... making out, oral sex ( male receiving ), unprotected sex

「 authors note 𖹭 」 this idea has been sitting in my notes since 2023 but I could never think of how to write it.

❪ masterlist! ❫

all your friends loved to say you and donghyuck are soulmates; tied together by a red invisible string, that you're destined to be together much like in your other lives— maybe that was true, and you did actually care for the boy in a another universe or timeline… but you knew for a fact in this time you wanted to wrap your hands around his—

“yn?” you were brought from your thoughts. “you okay?” you roommate yeji asked. “of course not the love of her life isn't here.” the irritating voice made your eye twitch. “you thinking of me baby?” lee donghyuck, haechan or your personal favorite jackass sat down next to you. “you know what yeah i was , i was thinking all about you”

everyone sitting at the lunch table stopped what they were doing. “seriously?” you hummed , nodding. “i told you guys she loved , tell me baby, what were you thinking about?” renjuns face turned in disgust. “i didn't consent to hearing your sex fantasy about haechan that you just had in public, might i add.” you turned to the boy , your hands resting on his shoulders, his eyes widened.

“i was thinking of taking my hand.” your friends watching, dragging your hand up his neck. “d-don't you think we should do this in private, not in front of our friends.” you started to squeeze. “i think she's trying to kill him.” jaemin whispered. “taking my hand , and squeezing , until your eyes pop.”

your friends erupted into laughter as you released the boy , he rubbed his neck. “yn i think you really scared him this time.” jeno said. “him? no.” you turned to the boy who was staring lovingly at you. “you see.” you rolled your eyes. “why can't you admit that you like me, love , make it easy for yourself?” everyone sighed knowing the rant he was about to go on. “we're perfect for each other.”

“yeah? how.” you said. “i'm hot and your hot , and it's obvious we were in love in our past lives,” he said. “haechan i’ve explained to you that the invisible string theory isn't real.” you argued back. “yeah how would i know about the birth mark on your lower back?” he did have a point , it was too low for anyone to see. “yeah how does he know that?” yeji asked. “because he's a creep that's why.” you stood up , needing to leave for your next class. “or maybe in our past lives our favorite position was doggy style , i couldn't forget that even in a new life.” he smirked, you shook your head. “i'm going to class.”

the boy followed behind you; sadly you had the same classes. “we're even in the same class.” he sat down next to you. “yeah and im still not sure if you did that on purpose.” the professor walked in before he could say something. “god heard my prayers.”

“there's a new project due , 30% of your grade for this semester.” you groaned , you hated projects. “let's do it together.” haechan said, he knew you were serious about school so he never bothered you during class , he actually never bothered you unless he knew it would stress you out. “why would i torture myself in such a manor?” he smiled. “I love our little talks.” you shook your head , standing up. “goodbye donghyuck.”

“wait yn, i'm serious,” he said. “you know me and you are the best in this class, we'll sure get an A on this.” you kissed your teeth, you hated when hebwas right, he loved to fuck around , but when it came to his work he was serious. “fine.” his eyes widened. “seriously?”

“yeah , let's go.” he quickly gathered his things. “you can't take it back now.” you rolled your eyes. “let's go.” he nodded. “back to your place?” you saw the smirk on his face. “yeji is home , and hell will freeze over before i ever come over to your house of horrors.” you walked away, he followed behind. “so that means there's a chance?”

“where are you going?” you opened the door to yeji about to leave. “jaemin called me and told me he saw you both walking towards our dorm together, i thought he was high again.” she stopped. “we’re working on a project together, sadly beside me he's the only other smarter one in the class.” haechan smiled. “see she knows how to compliment me.”

“i told him you'd be here so he would start anything.” you said , “but it seems like you aren't.” yeji shook her head. “work, one of my co workers called off , if you want groceries for the next month , i have to leave now.” she said , walk right out the door. “see even the universe wants us together.”

“my bedroom, let's go.” you walked. “if you like to be in charge i'm down.” he followed you. “haechan you're here to help with the project.” you said flatly. “i know , i know don't worry , i'll sit down and listen.” he sat on your bed , you cringed. “oh im sorry would you like for me to take my clothes off for your comfort?” you sat down in your chair. “no , i can just change it when you leave.” he smirked. “how about i give you a better reason to change them.” you glared at him , even though this time , you let a little smile slip. “fine, fine let's do the project.” he threw his hands up. “thank you.” you turned around facing your laptop. “but i saw that smile.”

you both actually did get half of your project done; you closed your laptop turning around in your chair, sighing. “you did good , kept your word and actually got work done.” you praised the boy. “don't you think i deserve a reward.” he laid back on your bed. “you can get your things and go.” he faked laughed. “no one is here, you can drop the act that you hate me.” you raised your eyebrows. “you think this is an act?” he nodded. “i do.”

“why is that?” you questioned, he shrugged. “you invited me to your apartment , you never do that even if it's with the other guys.” he said, “you invited me into your room with no one else home.” he smirked. “you love me.”

“you're cocky , that's why i don't like you.” you scoffed. “i think that's what you like about me the most.” he winked. “i see the twinkle in your pretty eyes , you mean to tell me you don't believe the string theory even a little bit?” you stood up shaking your head , walking over to your door. “and with that , good night haechan.” you opened it , showing him out.

he stood up, walking over to you and the door; you thought he was about to leave , but he stopped in front of you. “haechan what are you…” before you could even finish it , he was closing the door , pushing you against it. “hyuck.” he smirked. “now i'm hyuck , what happened to donghyuck?” he grabbed your hips , pulling you flush against him. “pretending to hate me this entire time; when in reality you're just as horny for me as i am for you.”

he closed the already miniscule gap in between you both; your lips dancing with each other , bodies grinding against each other. “bed.” you sighed , he kept his mouth on as he guided you to your bed , pushing you down on the bed. “what happened to letting me be in charge?” you said breathlessly. “that was before , this is now.”

he climbed on the bed , laying against the headboard. “come.” you climbed into his lap , straddling him. “look at you so desperate , take your top off baby.” you lifted your arms up pulling the shirt over your head. “nice tits.” he winked, you rolled your eyes. “i wish i had a gag.” he hummed. “oh , really?” you nodded. “get on your knees , i got one for you.”

you would've rolled your eyes at his corny ass humor , but you were too horny; getting on your knees in front of him , he unbuckled his pants , lifting his hands up , pulling his pants down enough to let his cock free , bobbing against his stomach , tan skin; red and ready to be sucked. “you keep looking at it baby, how about putting that pretty mouth to use.”

you finally put your hand around his length , giving his tip a kiss , he hissed. “fuck.” he sighed , he must've been in some sort of sex dream , but he didn't want wake up if it was. “k-keep going.” if someone told you that you'd be doing this to lee haechan , in your bed, you would've assumed they were doing drugs. “fuuuuck , just like i imagined, keep sucking my cock love.” his head was thrown back against the headboard , his hip bucking up into your mouth , you gagged around him. “sorry love -fuck- i'm about to fucking cum.”

he was loud , if yeji was to come home or if any of the boys decided they want to remember the password to your door like they sometimes do; they would for sure be able to hear him at least. “fuck im cumming.”

you pulled off him , he groaned; wiping your mouth. “you came so much.” you coughed. “ and do you purposely eat pineapples or something?” your voice was scratchy. “could never be so sure,” he said. “freak.” you crawled back into his lap. “yeah , why are you grinding on me then?” you softly moaned. “go-good sex.” he scoffed. “how will you know if i never fucked you?”

“if you keep teasing you never will.” he didn't say anything else , pulling your panties to the side , grinding his hips up, rubbing his cock along your folds , his tip catching your clit. “fuck hyuck , put it in.” you lifted your hips, he held his cock right at your entrance. “sit on it baby.”

both of you moaned out as you felt him fill you out. “g-goddamn.” you hissed. “you're fucking big.” he smirked, you wanted to smack it right off of him. “i know love, -fuck- you've been missing out.” he cursed. “could've been bouncing on my cock almost two years ago , but instead you've been such a bitch to me.” he moaned.

he was holding your ass in his hand as you bounced on his cock , his mouth on your tips , sucking on your nipples. “fuck hyuck im gonna cum!” you gasped out , he pushed your hips down , fucking his hips up at a fast pace. “hyuck fuck!” you screamed. “fuck i'm gonna cum.” you gripped his hair. “oh fuck i love that , pull it again.”

you gripped his hair as you came around him , your cunt sucking him in , cumming. “shit love , im gonna fucking cum.” he held you down , thrusting a few times , before he came with a sigh. “sh-shit.” he had a dumb smile on his face , as he came down from one of the best highs he's ever had. “did i fuck you dumb?” he scoffed. “it takes a lot to fuck me dumb baby , pretty sure that would happen to you before me.” you rolled your eyes. “you wanna bet baby?” he flipped you over with a smirk. “you better hope yeji doesn't come back.”

…

“wait hold on.” renjun said. “you came onto him?” you rolled your eyes. “i’ve been chasing her this entire time , and this one time she got me alone.” you scoffed at the boy who had his arm around your shoulder. “it was the bed line wasn't it?” yeji spoke up. “what bed line.” you said , “no more questions.”

“so i guess you kinda have to believe in the red string theory now.” jaemin said. “yeah , it just took a little longer to work this time.” jeno followed. “come on love , just tell them , you believe it now , even just a bit it.” you thought for a bit , smiling.

“okay maybe i believe in the theory just a little bit.”

©LUVYENI

[ozzgin]

Hello Ozz! Me and my roomate just finished your yakuza series and we really loved it! Funnily enough, my roomate really likes Daitou while I actually like Kazuya a bit more. It got me thinking, what if two roomates moved into the apartment? Then both boys would get their share :D

Anyways, tis was just a silly thought I had. Hope you have a great day, Ozz :)

Ooh this brings me back to my own college days, haha. Very fun to have a roommate you can share these things with!

Yandere! Yakuza AU where two broke student Readers (you and your bestie) struggle to find a cheap apartment close to university. You finally stumble upon a suspiciously accessible place, only to discover it’s rented out by the local yakuza Family. You turn to each other with a knowing gaze: a deal’s a deal. You both sign without hesitation.

The ridiculously affordable apartment isn’t the only thing too good to be true. Kazuya was the first one to break the ice, ears perking up at the knowledge that two cute foreign students just moved into their housing. Even more shocking is that one of them seems to be acting all flirty with his friend, Daitou. Which is a miracle in itself: Daitou is one scary bastard. Last time his eye lingered one second too long towards one of their female workers, she ran away in tears. And here he is now, laughing and chitchatting with some college youngster.

Jackpot, the blonde tells himself, lighting another cigarette.

“Hey! No smoking indoors”, you shout, noticing the offender. Your friend agrees with you.

The man sighs and shrugs, shoving his pack back inside his coat pocket.

“What was the saying? Prepare for trouble, and make it double?” he remarks jokingly, approaching the group.

[Yakuza Series]

[steddie-as-they-come]

sequel to my roommate steddie au!! here's the first part! tags have changed, it's now more mature with some fade to black sex

Steve’s so warm. It’s not fair.

Eddie must have half his wardrobe on, tucked under all the blankets on his bed, and Steve is just sitting over there, in a T-shirt and thin sweatpants, like the jackass he is.

"You look cold." Steve says, shifting a bit.

Eddie glares at him. "No shit, Sherlock," he bites out, trying to reign in his temper. All things considered, Steve's a pretty great roommate, sharing his food and his children with Eddie. It's not his fault the college decides to let their students freeze to death.

Steve, to his credit, just laughs at him. "Okay, fine. I was gonna offer for you to come hang out over here, since you're over the vent and I'm not, but if you're gonna be like that-"

Eddie practically teleports out of bed. "No! No, please, Steve, did I ever mention how great your hair looks today and how kind you are to me-"

Steve laughs again, moving out of the way and patting the bed next to him. Eddie doesn't hesitate to scurry up and tuck himself into a little cocoon of his own blankets, trying not to bump Steve's arm as he focuses on his homework. He doesn't completely succeed, and his hand brushes against Steve's bare arm.

"What the fuck?" he says loudly. "Why are you the temperature of a campfire?"

Steve shrugs. "I've always run hot." he says. "It's great during winter movie nights because everyone piles on top of me, but then I get banished during summer movie nights, which is no fun."

Eddie's already sprawled over his shoulder, sighing happily, like some kind of lizard on a sunlit rock. If August Eddie could see him now, he'd try to smack the shit outta him for falling for a straight guy. One who was his roommate, no less.

But it's hard not to when Steve is kind, and accepting, and a little bit stupid, and hot as hell. It isn't like he just tolerates Eddie's physical affection either, he seems to welcome it. Steve even started initiating it, wrapping an arm around Eddie's shoulders, grabbing his arm to haul him out of particularly big crowds, and the hugs. Steve loves hugs.

There's a darkness to Steve too, the way he moves, the way he's always checking over his shoulder, flinching at flickering lights, always ready for a fight.

It makes Eddie wonder if Steve is like him.

Eddie wiggles a bit, adjusting his chin to prop on Steve's shoulder. "Whatcha workin' on?" he asks, just to be nosy.

Steve rolls his eyes, leaning away. "None of your business." he teases.

Eddie misses the warmth as soon as Steve's gone. "Nooooo," he whines. "Come back. I won't look!"

Steve stays leaned away, raising his eyebrows. "You're so weird." he says. It's not in a mean way, more that he's bewildered that one person can be this strange. Eddie takes this as a compliment.

He pretends to freeze to death, jerking and flinching. "It's...so cold." he mutters. "I see...the light... All because my roommate...let me freeze to death..."

Finally, Steve's blissful warmth comes back, and Steve sighs, tapping his pen against his paper. Eddie tries to peek again, and recognizes familiar words.

"Is that a character sheet?" he yells, and Steve frowns at him.

"You said you wouldn't look!"

Eddie waves him off, grabbing for the sheet. "Steve, this is D&D. It's automatically my business when it's D&D."

Steve finally hands it over. "Fine. Yes, it's a character sheet. Dustin's birthday is next Monday, and I was gonna ask you if I could join your game as a present to him."

Eddie nods, inspecting the sheet. Dustin's been begging for Steve to join basically since they started their little arrangement, where Eddie DM's for them in exchange for no more open hostility in the dorms. It may have worked a little too well, given Eddie's budding crush, but c'est la vie.

Eddie hands it back. "You are supposed to give the DM the character sheet a couple days in advance so they have time to work you into the plot."

Steve winces. "Really? Shit, I didn't know that."

"It's fine, I got some ideas, just from looking it over. You can borrow a spare set of dice and one of my miniatures too."

"Oh good, I had no idea if I needed any of that stuff."

"Do you want me to do a little crash course for you?" Eddie asks, preparing to brave the cold to grab his little homemade handbook.

Steve gives him a deadpan look. "Are you kidding me? Dustin is gonna love being better than me at this. I might as well go in with a regular six-sided die and pretend I thought that's the one I needed."

Eddie laughs. "Fair enough." The cold touches his neck and he burrows back into his blankets. "This fucking sucks, by the way. The cold."

"You're a big baby, man. It's fine."

"Ah, yes. Forgot I live with a walking, talking furnace." Eddie rolls his eyes, muttering, "This is worse than the time I was left outside in the cold."

"Wait, what?" Steve turns to him, eyes flinty like steel. "You were...what?"

"Oh. Um." Eddie's not sure how much to reveal, but he figures it had to come out eventually. "My dad left me out in the cold when I was thirteen. I think he thought it'd fix me. I just got really sick, though." He laughs humorlessly.

"You said...fix you?" Steve says, and Eddie's heart drops. He backs away from Steve before starting to talk, trying to find something to defend himself with if Steve gets mad.

"Yeah." Eddie says. "He saw me...kissing a boy."

Steve's eyes widen, and then he scoots closer. Eddie's breath hitches.

"Me too." Steve whispers.

Now it's Eddie's turn to be shocked. Steve continues. "Not...not left outside in the cold. They'd need to be home long enough for that. But...bisexual. I like girls and guys."

There's a tense, charged silence in the room. Eddie draws up all his courage. "I like you, Steve."

Steve stares at Eddie’s lips. “Can I-” he whispers breathlessly.

Eddie, seemingly just as entranced, nods, and Steve leans forward, pressing his lips against Eddie. Almost unconsciously, Eddie tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and Steve hums happily. 

Eddie’s tongue swipes at the sealed lines of Steve’s lips. Steve freezes, then slowly, tentatively, opens his mouth. 

Give him an inch and he’ll take a mile. Eddie practically pulls Steve down towards him, hands greedily exploring every inch of Steve he could reach. Steve gladly returns the favor, sneaking his hands between Eddie’s back and the mattress so he can feel the muscles lining Eddie’s spine flex and move as Eddie kisses him stupid. 

Eddie pulls back, breaking the kiss. Steve whines, actually whines, and dives back in, but Eddie stops him with a gentle hand on his chest. 

He kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth, and Steve chases it, leaning subtly towards Eddie, but Eddie just keeps moving, kissing a trail from his mouth to his chin, to the soft skin where Steve's jawline blends into his neck. Steve keeps moving, running his hands up and down Eddie’s back just for something to do. 

Eddie reaches the small curve where his shoulder meets his neck, and Steve feels a small scrape of teeth against his skin. He whimpers. 

“Oh?” Eddie says, the first thing he’s said since Steve leaned in. His voice is raspy, and Steve privately thinks it's the hottest fucking thing in the world. “There?” 

He kisses there again, but this time there's no teeth, and Steve stays quiet, breathing slowly, in and out, in and out. 

“Or…did you like it when I did this?” 

Eddie leans forward and nips at Steve’s collar, and Steve keens. “Eddieee…” he says, dragging the vowels out too long, leaving that name hanging in the air.

Eddie tilts his head back up and captures Steve’s lips in another kiss, tongue sliding into Steve’s mouth smoothly. He kisses for a few seconds, then readjusts and gently nips at Steve’s lower lip. 

“Please, please Eddie,” Steve begs breathlessly, not even sure what he's pleading for. Eddie seems to get it though, and slides his hands under his shirt to cup Steve’s waist.

Steve laces his hands through Eddie's hair and pulls, and Eddie lets out a moan, pushing Steve off of him and rolling so he's on top, enjoying the feeling of Steve under him on the mattress.

"I've never been so glad for the cold," he whispers against Steve's lips, and kisses him again.

[rosenclaws]

congrats on 600 followers!!! so happy for you hun 💗 for your celebration, can i request “This will be the last time you lie to me.” with worst!logan?

warnings: reader is a human and doesn't know logan is a mutant

600 follower drabble masterlist

a/n: I'm recovering from arcane s2 act 2 but I love me some logan angst so I hope u enjoy!!

Hours. That's how long he made you wait. Again. Stuck at a restaurant getting pitiful looks from the waitstaff after your boyfriend stood you up. This was how many times now?

When you first met Logan you knew he wasn't your typical guy. He wasn't going to be that perfect boyfriend who you take home to your parents and you were okay with that. He worked construction and had a weird roommate. He held more alcohol than you thought a man could and he never seemed to get sick.

You knew who he was. Or you thought you did. You didn't expect big dates or grand gestures from Logan. He still made you happy. He loved you in his own Logan way. But when he promised you something you thought he'd be there.

Rain checking dates over and over without reason. At first it was fine but then it kept happening. He made up a variety excuses but you were fed up. He had work, family emergency, vet emergency. What isn't he telling you? All you wanted was for him to be honest.

You call the waiter over and pay for your side of fries. You weren't even hungry anymore. The rain is pouring down onto the pavement as you exit the restaurant.

You took the train here but they've stopped running by now. Normally Logan would pick you up because he hates when you take public transportation. You'd turn on the radio and he'd grumble about how bad the music of today is but you'll catch him humming along sometimes. You miss that. You tighten your jacket around you as you step into the pouring rain. Deciding to walk home tonight. The rain soaks your clothes to the bone. You're cold and shivering and you're just sad.

"What the hell are you doing?" A voice shouts at you through the rain. That's Logan. Heavy footsteps pound the towards you but you ignore them.

It doesn't take long for him to catch up to you. The rain stops and you look up to see an umbrella above you. The rain now hitting his clothes as he makes sure you're covered. He's all dressed up but it's too late.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous it for you to be out here?" You roll your eyes and ignore him. He doesn't stop following you.

"I'm sorry for missing our date." He watches your face, no change in your reaction.

"I was on my way I swear but the Wade called and I..."

"Enough!" You snap.

"Logan I like you, I really like you but you just keep lying!" You frustrated tears mix with the rain as you yell at him.

“This will be the last time you lie to me.” Logan catches your arm before you can storm off. He knows he's been a dick. He has been lying but not for the reason you think. He's trying to protect you.

"Sweetheart please, let me explain." He begs. You're the one good thing he's found and he won't lose you.

"I. I'm..." He can't find the words. How does he explain it all. You don't know who he is, what he is.

"Goodbye Logan."

"I'm a mutant!" He blurts out. "I. I'm an X-Man" Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Of course you heard of the X-men. Who they were. But they're gone now. He can see you don't believe him so he holds his hands up. Claws shoot out of his knuckles making you gasp.

"Why wouldn't you tell me?" You gently run your fingers around the sharp blades.

"Destruction follows me wherever I go sweetheart. Mutants, we're never safe. I wanted to keep you safe and as selfish as it sounds I couldn't walk away from you." The claws slowly sink back into his skin. It heals up before your very eyes. Your hand cups his face, his eyes closing at your touch. He pulls you close. The umbrella shielding both of you from the rain now.

"I'm not afraid of you, or what being a mutant means Logan." You're human, you don't have any special powers or anything but you do know how to love and you love Logan.

"No more hiding okay." You grab his hand and he takes it, thanking whatever power that you're still here. He doesn't have to hide who he is, you're not afraid.

[tqmies]

NCT Dream + FWB (But you're both whipped)

How Nct Dream would react to being your friend with benefits (but you have feelings for each other)

Minors DNI - NOTE, requests are open for reactions :D

MARK is so nonchalant about it, when in reality, he's never done this before. Neither had you though, so you're not sure what lines you're not supposed to cross. What? It's not normal to kiss your fwb on the lips and tell him you love him? Or for him to let you spend the night?

He digs his fingers into the side of your hips as you bounce on his cock. Letting lewd noises slip as he moans out, a string of praise and I love you's as he releases his fat load in you. Yeah, you aren't gonna be friends for long.

When it come's to RENJUN, I see someone who agreed to this arrangement solely because he already had feelings for you. It's pretty much been torture knowing you two weren't exclusive, but it wasn't what you agreed to anyways. He's pretty good at keeping it in until one day it just slips out.

He's lapping at your cunt, your fingers gripping his hair as he looks up to you with glazed over eyes as he whines. "Would you let me be your boyfriend? Please, I can't do this anymore, want you all to m-myself."

It's ironic that JENO catches feelings when he was the one dead set on no strings attached. You two were strangers before this but now he's starting to memorize your hobbies you talk about after, or the way you like your coffee in the morning, and the fact that you like the same music at him. Though, he's not going to confess until you do.

"So pretty for me and only me right?" He grins, pounding you into the mattress as he presses your face down. "My dumb baby can't answer? That's too bad, I love hearing what you have to say"

After the first time you two sleep together, you are HAECHAN's. Just accept it, he's not letting you go now. He's going to treat you like he's your boyfriend anyways, might as well make it official. Even if you insist on keeping things casual, he's going to make you question why you wanted to in the first place.

"Mmph," He babbles on you grip the base of his cock, slightly teasing him. "No one makes me feel like you do, we were made for each other. You're my soulmate."

JAEMIN hates this kind of relationship, he wants something more and you know it. Yet, he knew that you weren't one to be tied down, you even kept messing around with other people. Though he might just change your mind.

"You make me so mad." He grunts as he continued to slam into you as a vigorous pace, and you've already been fucked dumb. "You know I'm the only one who could get you like this, don't see why you'd want anyone else."

He's your exes roommate, you know it isn't right, CHENLE knows it isn't right. But how could something so wrong feel this good? He's always though you were pretty, relieved when his roommate broke your heart, but don't worry, he's here to make you feel better.

He continues to hold his hand over your mouth as he whispers. "You're gonna have to keep it down. I know you can't help moaning like a slut when I fuck you like this, but you wouldn't want your ex to find you, would you?"

JISUNG doesn't realize you're not together. You kiss, have sex, sleep over, and go on mini dates. What do you mean he's not your boyfriend? You've been telling people you're single?!

He tries to catch his breath as you pass him through your lips, taking him in as he winces. "D-Do you just suck off all your friends like this?"

[actuallybridgetjones]

so long (worst!wolverine x reader)

warnings: +18 minors do not interact, smut, fluff, female!reader, worst!wolverine, change of events, after d&w.

a/n: hi! since d&w got on disney+ i just had to rewatch it and had this idea. please note that this is my first fic ever and that english isn’t my first language. also, i can’t write wade accurately so here is my messy attempt. sorry in advance for any mistake (or if this seems to messy) and feedback is much appreciated. love, carol ♡

you and logan had a life together, both teacher at charle's institute. your relationship with him blossomed through late sleepless nights in the kitchen, when you listened to the older man, appreciating the little he shared with you everyday.

it was evident that you two grew close as each day passed. after lingering touches and stares, stollen kisses in empty classrooms, you eventually got together and boy, were you happy.

you had it all, you knew each other like the palm of your hand. you were logan's harbor and he was your safe haven. you saw how he would get when the nightmares were too much, feeling the urge to drink his worries away. you saw his flaws and his sins and still you stood by.

that's what made logan wonder at first. it made him wonder how a girl sweet and kind like you wasn't terrified by the thought of him. he would often even wonder what kind of good thing he did to have you only listening to him in the first place.

so, when that tragic night came, logan got reminded of how he didn't deserve any good, how everything of his always had a way to be taken, ruined. he was coming home from the bar, a solo mission went wrong, he decided to stop to drink it away before collapsing in your arms. he knew you would be home, you were always home.

until you weren't.

he got to the mansion to find it filled with dead bodies, jean, scott, storm, hank... everyone, it was a blood bath. logan's first thought was you. running into your shared bedroom, he searched, spent days looking through the damn corpses but there were no traces of you, nothing for him to mourn over.

logan turned to alcohol and self hatred, his healing abilities now appearing as a curse, as if nothing was hard enough to numb him from the pain of it all.

the day wade (or whatever was his name) came in saying that he would take him out of there, logan didn’t even flinch. if he didn’t have you, there was nothing holding him back to his timeline.

here he was now, storming in to help deadpool, the guy who gave him a second chance, stoping cassandra with the time reaper. his mind was filled with memory of the journey he had gone through, but not only.

through his head flew images of you. your smile, your eyes, your small almost unnoticeable freckles, the way your nose scrunched when you laughed and the way your cheeks always seemed to turn a warm pink shade around him. images of you underneath and on top of him, holding him or sleeping tightly in his embrace. memories of slow mornings tangled on each other and late nights spent panting.

after all was safe and sound, after wade’s world was no longer endangered, logan gave himself a second chance too. he let himself be friends with wade, agreeing to live with him until he figured something out. he always did.

wade, cheery as ever, took logan to his building, wanting him to meet blind al, the so infamous roommate. after climbing up the stairs logan feels a perfume he hadn’t felt in years. he turned to see you shuffling through your keys, trying to enter the apartment. you didn’t even have to turn his way.

it was you.

logan stood frozen, trying to figure out if this was another one of life’s tricks to him.

“peanunt, that’s y/n, she’s a sweet girl, but you’re literally drooling you nasty dog” wade says, and that’s when you turn to the two men, hearing your name coming from the mouth of your chatty neighbor.

the sight in front of you made your heart stop. was it your logan? could it be? or was it just another nightmare about the love of your life, just for you to wake to an empty cold bed?

your brows furrow as you look at him. he was older, thinner even despite his still very defined muscles. you were sure this was your logan from the way he looked at you, his hazel eyes seeming worn over but with the same love inside of them.

“lo-logan?”

“y/n?”

your breath hitched on your throat as tears fall down your face. you run to logan, wrapping your arms tightly around him. if this was a dream, you wanted to hug him for one last time, to atleast try to feel his embrace, his touch.

logan hugged you back, bringing your smaller body to his chest as he crouched to whisper, crying too. “is this really you? y/n, oh god”

you pull your head back to look into his eyes, meeting his hazel orbs.

it was your logan.

“i-i can’t believe…” your voice comes out shaky, small even as you look at the man. dirty, rugged and with stains of blood everywhere, but he was your man.

“oh darling… god darling girl” his voice is small too, contrasting with his own appearance. you wrap your arms securely around his neck once again, crying in pure bliss as his large arms came to wrap around your waist.

“i missed you so much” you say between sobs against his neck. “how-how did you get here?” he asks, finally finding all of his worries dissipating in your embrace.

“on the night of the attack… a portal opened and I came here, I had no idea how to go back, how to go back to you lo-” you say almost out of breath, feeling his hand now softly combing through your hair.

logan pulls back to look at you in the eyes, his fingers brushing softly against your cheek as he whispered “beautiful” and brings his lips to yours.

there’s no point in denying the hurry of the kiss, the desperation and the longing cursing through your veins. of course there’s always someone to wreck the party.

“peanut? honey? am i missing something or are we starting to make out with greasy strangers in the hallways now?” deadpool’s voice interrupts.

logan grunts and turns back to him, giving him a glare. “she was, is, the one i told you about” the wolverine says surprinsingly soft.

you smile and add shyly “he’s the one i told you about”, logan looks at you tenderly, a reminder of the love still in him. the love that he had burried deep down after that night.

“honey? you had no will to tell me that THE MAN YOU WERE FUCKING NASTY BACK IN YOUR TIMELINE WAS THE WOLVERINE?” wade adds excitedly.

you and logan both roll your eyes, you blush and turn to your neighbor. “i don’t know if he was going up to meet blind al, but i’m going to keep him for the night”

“don’t make too much noise”

before you pull your long lost lover inside with you into your apartment he turns back. “hey, wade… thank you”.

after that he was on you, door closed as he pinned you against it, arms wrapping around you, your own traveling down the hoodie he was wearing. your lips meet in a searing kiss, his tongue not taking much time in entering your mouth, joining your own in a slow and long known dance.

this was home.

“my bedroom his down the hall” you say between kisses and logan pulls you to wrap your legs around his torso, bringing you to your own bedroom. once you’re there he lays you against the bed gently, taking off his hoodie and moving to remove the tank top you were wearing, nothing underneath.

“what a fucking sight” he whispers, the rough tone contrasting with the love his gaze held, his eyes turning a deep shade of forest greeen now. reaching down, he kisses your neck, bitting and nibbling on the tender skin under his mouth.

"i- i need you logan" you say gravely, voice filled with need and passion. you remove your jeans and panties, laying bare under him now. "what a sight, princess" he hums against your hear, letting out a soft groan as he feels your desperate hands fumbling with his pants.

not longer after that, logan was moving inside you, his movements desperate as your manicured nails dig into the flesh of his back. his hands travel sloppily down your body, massaging the soft skin.

"i love you logan, i love you" you manage to say between moans, head thrown back in pleasure as you feel your high approaching. his hips grew more erratic, your words making his need grow "you'll be the death of me darlin' " he says between pants.

you feel the familiar stretch of his large cock on you, the familiar pleasure his calloused hands bring you. but you also see the depth of his eyes. the love and longing they carry. he shifts, now kneeling as his hands grasp at your hips, tight enough to bruise.

from the new angle it all feels too much and you can't even begin to process it until it's happening. "oh logan..." you almost scream in pure bliss, your whole body convulsing as your eyes roll to the back of your head, your juices spilling all over him.

the sight is too much for logan as he cums inside of you, the feel of his warm seed filling you up, making you squirm. he collapses on top of you, his hands anchoring his body as he looks you in the eye, still inside of you. "i love you so much princess"

you can only smile, new tears threatening to roll down your cheeks as you looked at the man that was, is, everything to you. in that moment you know it'll be alright, and he knows, feels it too.

as long as you've got each other, it'll be alright.

[jayparked]

𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

⤥ last updated: 11/26/24

⤥ check out my in progress fics here

⤥ feel free to: spam likes, reblogs, comments, or asks ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ )

⤥ minors pls do not interact

⤥ request for fake texts/headcanons: closed!

➼ please specify if your req is for fake texts or headcanons

⤥ join my perma taglist here

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⤥ thank you to my amazing best friend @sungbeams for making my masterlist banners for me (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

⤥ enjoy!! ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

ღ 𝒽𝒶𝓃𝒹𝓈𝓎 - mdni

⤥ snippet: Then, looking into your eyes, he speaks firmly, “Before we begin, let’s establish some ground rules.” ⤥ pairing: lee heeseung x female reader ⤥ genre: smut ⤥ au: roommates, f2l ⤥ rating: explicit/18+, minors dni ⤥ word count: 4.3k

ღ 𝓂𝓊𝓈𝒾𝒸 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓈 - mdni

⤥ snippet: "Ride me." Jay huffs. It's a command, not a request. He moves back to the head of the bed, adjusting the pillows before leaning back against them. Lifting the covers away from his body, he removes his boxers slowly. looking into your eyes as he does so. ⤥ pairing: park jongseong x female reader ⤥ genre: smut ⤥ au: music producer jay, established relationship ⤥ rating: explicit/18+, minors dni ⤥ word count: 9.7k ⤥ ao3 link

ღ 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝑜𝑜𝓃 - 𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒸𝓁𝒾𝒸𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝓁𝑒𝑔𝑒 𝓇𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒

ღ 𝓇𝑒𝓁𝒾𝑒𝒻 𝓈𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒸𝒽 - mdni

⤥ snippet: “My turn,” he snarls, grabbing your hips roughly and flipping you onto your stomach. Time isn’t wasted with your impatient man as he pulls your hips towards him, placing a hand between your shoulder blades to keep your head down. ⤥ pairing: switch! sim jaeyun x switch! female reader ⤥ genre: smut ⤥ au: established relationship ⤥ rating: explicit/18+, minors dni ⤥ word count: 7k ⤥ ao3 link

ღ 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝑜𝑜𝓃 - 𝓌𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓎 ღ 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝑜𝑜𝓃 -𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁

ღ 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝑜𝑜𝓃 - 𝓇𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃𝑔𝑒 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓂𝓎 𝓋𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑒

ღ 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝑜𝑜𝓃 - 𝒷𝑒𝒹𝓇𝑜𝑜𝓂 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝒻𝒶𝓇𝑒

ღ 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓈𝑜𝑜𝓃

hyung line fake texts - mdni

ღ you find their porn stash ღ they have baby fever ღ you want to tie a bow/ribbon on their d!ck ღ boyfriend texts with jake

ot7 fake texts

ღ would you still love me if i was a worm? ღ you don't say 'i love you' back ღ you ask them for money ღ when they say 'stop doing that' ღ when they don't say 'i love you' back ღ you get in an argument ღ they have baby fever - maknae line (fluff for riki) ღ when they ask 'what size pussy you wear?' ღ when you accidently text them "wanna bang?" ღ when they reassure you

hard thoughts/drabbles - mdni

heeseung

ღ "you don't get to touch yourself until i say so." ღ "so how do you want me to fuck you?" ღ "let me ride you" ღ "i don't think i've ever wanted someone more." / "oh, the things i'd do to you if we were alone right now..."

jay

ღ “i’m not sharing you with anybody” / “gonna make sure you don’t forget about me or tonight” ღ "oh, i can think of many ways to shut you up right now" / "you look like a mess and i love it" ღ "tell me if it hurts, okay?" ღ "all yours, only yours." / "gonna fuck you until the only word you remember is my name."

jake

ღ “but you think about me when they’re fucking you, don’t you?” ღ "why'd you stop?" "because you sounded too fucking good and so i had like, a moment." ღ "i want your fingers in me" ღ"try not to be so noisy, yeah?" /"actually, i think you'd look even better under me"

sunghoon

ღ "look at your reflection. look how gorgeous you are." / "don't make too many noises or we'll get caught" ღ "you only get to watch." ღ "oh, i can think of many ways to shut you up right now" / "you like messing with my head, don't you?" "only because it clearly turns you on" ღ "not so fast, bun" ღ "my god you're so fucking gorgeous like this" / "you're taking me so well, baby"

sunoo

ღ “rough or gentle?” / “spread your legs for me. spread them wider” ღ "do whatever you want with me" / "can't- can't you go any faster than this?"

jungwon

ღ "you. me. bed. now" / "i want you to say my name like that again." ღ "do i really turn you on this much?" / "then come for me" ღ "only i get to ruin you like this" / "th-there are people outside this door" "well this isnt about them now is it?" ღ "my god you're so fucking gorgeous like this" / "you're taking me so well, baby" ღ "so you touch yourself to the thought of me? i'd like to see that" / "i wanna hear you beg for it" ღ "you can have all of me if that's what you want"

edits

ღ heeseung - backseat ღ jay - cherry hill ღ sunghoon - say aah ღ jake - knees ღ sunoo - american horror show ღ jungwon - mmm

© do not copy, modify, translate, or re-post. all rights reserved under user jayparked. this includes all headers, fake texts and writing pieces.

[captain039]

He’s Grumpy, I’m sunshine

Alpha!Logan x omega!reader

Warnings: AOB, age gap (legal), light swearing, grumpy/sunshine, anxiety, mental health issues, intimacy, violence, torture, plus size reader, medication usage for anxiety, depression and sleeping, heat pills, scent blockers

Set at Charles school

Your mutation: fire creation and control

I watched Deadpool and Wolverine and found my Wolverine cravings again xD

I’m in love with Hugh Jackman again

This school was your life now, having gone too many nights in a fire proof basement for your ‘out of control spells’ as your father put it. You didn’t have a bad childhood, rich parents each working hard to make their living, sending you to a nice school, college even till you set everything on fire.

You were staying at the college, it was your first month and everything seemed to be going well, your new room mate was nice a beta woman and classes were easy so far. You had your own space some clubs you wanted to check out, new places to see if you ever got the energy. Right now it was study till you passed out, get up go to class, come right back and repeat. It was draining but you needed to get use to it, your mother would call mid week and message every other day. Your father would say a brief hello on the calls but that’s all you’d hear from him, not that you minded. You kept your mutation hidden even if sometimes you felt yourself running a little hotter than usual, sometimes small flames would jump off your skin and you’d stop whatever you were doing, put some music on and focus on the moment. It was the third week, your roommate had invited you to party, you didn’t want to go, but your therapist did say to ‘get out more’ as she put it. So you went, stuck by your roommates side for most of the night till she got pulled away by some guy and they left. You were about to leave when someone approached, another girl in your class, an alpha, you’d forgotten her name but she handed you a drink with a bright smile, sat down with you and talked. It felt nice to laugh about whatever crazy story she was telling, she lived in the country, way out in the country living off home grown vegetables and herding cows. You checked your phone once your drink was gone finding it late so you excused yourself and went back to your room. You found your roommate passed out in her bed and shrugged feeling your head spinning a little, that drink definitely had alcohol in it. You laid down after forcing your jeans and bra off before curling up in and sighing. You awoke to the smell smoke and burning, you shot up, your room on fire, your roommate screaming as flames engulfed her. Your body was on fire also, the flames coming out of you. You tried to stop them tried to reel them in but you had no control, your panic worsened your anxiety worsened and the fire worsened. You heard sirens, shouting and chatter, but all you could do was stand by your roommates bed seeing her charred body. The fire brigade couldn’t stop your fire and you couldn’t cry.

“You’re alright” you frowned looking around seeing no one, but a males voice filled your head.

“Walk outside, we’ll handle the rest” you felt compelled to listen, you walked through the burning hall and outside as the voice said.

“Storm” a man called and you frowned. The world around you stopped, everything frozen but you and the group in front of you. Heavy rain poured down helping stop the flames on the building.

“I can stop this, I’m going to calm your mind, it will feel strange though” the voice said.

It did feel strange your body calming your heart slowing, the flames subsiding, just you, naked in the middle of the campus entrance.

“Jean” the older man in the wheel chair said as you quickly hid your body as the woman came over and wrapped a blanket around you. You thanked her softly shivering but not from the cold.

“Come, let’s get you some place safe” the older man said.

That’s how you met Professor Charles Xavier, Storm or Ororo and Jean grey that day. They said they found you by one of Professor Xavier’s machines he uses. Now you stay here in a fireproof room, with no one else in it, continuing your studies and nobody knew the cause of the fire. The nightmares still haunt you though, your roommates scream, she was such a lovely girl. You found out later that something had been in your drink spiked, majority of the other students just passed out for a day while it turned your powers hay wire and burnt quarter of the college down. You avoided most people, happy in your solitude and avoiding your powers. This school was full of different mutants, still some alpha douche bags around your age but it was a lot less intense and easier. Every time Professor Xavier would ask you to train your power you’d decline quickly and say you were fine with your studies. To be truthful you hated your power, hated the destruction it caused even if majority of these kids had tragic back stories too. You connected with most of the teachers, Jean more so though, Ororo was probably your second, but Jean was an alpha and reminded you of your mother somehow, so you subtly clung to her, made an attachment as your old therapist would call it. Sometimes though you’d catch whiff of another alpha on her, not Scott, Scott was a beta, nor another teacher, it was a strong intense scent you couldn’t pinpoint the smell, Whiskey was one of them, leather it would fade with Jeans scent of Grapefruit and spice.

You were going to see Jean seeing as she was one of the doctors there for some more anti-heat medication, you really wish they would come up with a stupid medical name for the stuff so you didn’t have to say it, even if you were a grown adult. You didn’t knock, figured she knows already with her mutation. What you didn’t expect was to be slapped in the face by a new scent. Slapped in the face was a little excessive, it felt like that though, you stopped in the door way stared at the alpha in the room and forgot how to breathe. Jesus Christ.

You stuttered pointing out the door cursing yourself as Jean smiled a bit.

“I didn’t know someone was here- I’ll um-“ your eyes finally left the male alpha, wondering who he was and wondering why the hell your legs were struggling to hold you up. You almost purred and bared your neck like some cat in heat.

“He was just leaving” Jean gave the male alpha a stern look and he sighed uncrossing his arms and walking to you. You forgot all manners and normal human function as he approached.

“Can I get past you Bub?” He asked voice rough and you slapped yourself mentally.

“Yes sorry, uh bye?” You moved out the way saying goodbye even if you didn’t know him. You heard him chuckle lightly and swore your stomachs did flips.

“You ok there?” Jean asks and you snap out of whatever trance you were in.

“Yes, that was embarrassing, I’ve smelt him on you before it was weird putting scent to face” god help you, you shouldn’t have said that.

“That’s even more embarrassing, I literally hate myself right now” you hung your head and walked over to her desk and sat down.

“You’re alright, how can I help?” She chuckled lightly and you sighed nodding.

“I need more um, Anti-heat pills, maybe some more scent blockers” you mumbled the last part. Scent blockers blocked your scent and others, if he was only briefly staying then good, no more embarrassing malfunctions, but if he was, damn.

“Is he a teacher?” You ask.

“No, Logan is I guess you could say he’s the muscle here even if Charles doesn’t like the thought, Logan’s helped this school more than once, he’s just got back from a mission sometimes he helps trains” she explains as she types on her computer.

“Oh, that’s cool” you say feeling a little stupid as Jean heads over to the locked room in the corner.

“Need any updates on your other meds? You’re going ok? Do you wanna come off them?” She asks.

“No they’re fine, thank you though” you answer as she returns with a small bag and hands it to you.

“Charles asked again if you wanted to join training this Friday?” She asks sitting down again and you tense.

“Oh I’m ok, thank you though” you say and stand.

“I’ll let you get back to work” you smile and say a small goodbye before leaving. You sigh shoulders sagging a little. You’re definitely not going to train now if that alpha will be there.

Next part ->

[disciplined-cornfed]

Rome wasn't built in a day

Alex had never expected his college life to take this kind of turn. He’d moved to New York for school, planning to live on campus like most students, but when he found a better deal on an off-campus apartment that financial aid would cover, he jumped on it. The apartment was in a decent neighborhood, close to the subway, and the landlord didn’t ask too many questions. Seemed like a win.

What he hadn’t planned on, though, was Frank—his new roommate.

Frank was… something else. The guy was like a time capsule from a decade ago, straight out of Jersey Shore. From the gelled-back hair, the deep tan, ridiculous yelling at football and ufc matches every weekend, the flashy chains, to the relentless love of tank tops and gold watches. Alex wasn’t sure if Frank was for real or if this was just an elaborate, extended joke.

But here’s the thing: despite his douchey exterior, Frank was actually a pretty nice guy. Sure, he blasted club music at ungodly hours and flexed in the mirror every time he passed it, but Frank was always chill. He’d offer Alex food whenever he cooked, made sure the apartment was clean, and always gave him a heads-up when he had people over. Plus, Frank clearly knew what he was doing in the gym. The guy was shredded, and Alex had to admit, Frank’s discipline when it came to his diet and workout routine was impressive.

It didn’t take long before Alex’s curiosity got the best of him.

One day, after weeks of seeing Frank pound protein shakes and head to the gym religiously, Alex asked him for some advice. He had always been a casual gym-goer, but seeing Frank’s dedication made him wonder if he could up his own game.

“Yo, Frank,” Alex said one afternoon as they sat in the living room. “What do you usually eat for those gains, man? And how do you stay so consistent?”

Frank grinned, pausing the DJ Pauly D remix playing on his speakers. “Bro, it’s all about focus foods and the right lifts. Stick to lean meats, eggs, beans, lots of veggies. And you gotta hit the weights hard. No shortcuts.”

Alex nodded, scribbling down some notes on his phone. “Got any recommendations? Like content or something I can watch?”

Frank’s grin grew wider. “Oh, for sure. I’ll send you some stuff. There’s Dom Mazzetti, Vinny Guadagnino—some good shit, bro. But hey, I’ll send you my playlist too. Got a WAV file I use at the gym that keeps me hyped.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “A playlist?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Frank said, waving his hand dismissively. “It’s got some fire tracks. Also, I threw in some personal affirmations underneath it, helps me stay focused during my lifts. You probably won’t even notice them, but they help, bro. Trust me.”

Alex wasn’t really buying into the whole “subliminal affirmation” thing. It sounded like some weird self-help nonsense. But Frank was shredded, and if these little tricks worked for him, maybe they were worth a shot.

Later that evening, Alex plugged in his headphones and hit play on Frank’s WAV file. It started with “Lucky, Lucky, Lucky Me”—a male cover that felt oddly calming. The song transitioned into upbeat remixes like “Fireball” and other club tracks that seemed to pump adrenaline into his veins. Somewhere in between, Sinatra’s smooth voice made an appearance, bringing a strange, nostalgic energy to the mix.

As the playlist played, Alex caught faint whispers beneath the music—barely noticeable. “You love the gym. You crave the weights. Tanning makes you feel amazing. You rep the Italian pride with every lift.”

He chuckled to himself. This subliminal shit can’t be real, he thought. But, whatever—Frank swears by it.

The playlist ended with “Lucky, Lucky Me” again, and as Alex dozed off that night, the tune echoed faintly in his head.

The changes didn’t happen overnight, but as the days went by, Alex began to notice subtle differences. It started with his workouts. He’d always been someone who worked out occasionally, but now there was something different. One morning, as he walked past the gym on his way to class, he felt an urge—a need to lift. It wasn’t just about getting in shape anymore. Something about the weights called to him, pulling him in.

He ended up inside, grabbing a set of dumbbells and diving into a full workout. By the time he finished, he was drenched in sweat, but instead of feeling exhausted, he felt exhilarated. There was a rush—an energy that coursed through him, leaving him wanting more.

From that point on, the gym became part of his daily routine. At first, he didn’t even realize it was happening. He started following Frank’s tips—lifting heavier, focusing on compound movements, and pushing himself harder with each session. His muscles responded quickly, growing faster than they ever had before. His shirts started to fit tighter, hugging his chest and arms in ways they never had before. Every time he looked in the mirror, he couldn’t help but flex, admiring his progress.

It wasn’t just the gym either. One afternoon, Alex caught himself in front of the bathroom mirror, noticing how pale his skin looked under the fluorescent lights. Without thinking much of it, he booked an appointment at the tanning salon down the street. After his first session, he looked at himself in the mirror, marveling at the golden glow on his skin. It made him feel good, confident—like he was stepping into a new version of himself.

Tanning became part of his routine, just like the gym. He started looking forward to that golden glow, the way it made his muscles stand out more, and how it just felt right.

One weekend, Alex found himself wandering into a clothing store, drawn to a section of tank tops with bold prints—Italian flags, American flags, vibrant colors that screamed confidence. He picked up a few without thinking twice, the fabric feeling perfect against his newly defined arms. When he got home and slipped into one of the tanks, he stood in front of the mirror, flexing his biceps. The tank hugged his body in all the right places, and as he admired his reflection, a grin spread across his face.

Damn, I look good.

It wasn’t just the clothes that made him feel this way—it was the pride, the feeling of representing his heritage with every lift, every flex. It felt right.

The most surprising change came with his voice. At first, it was barely noticeable—a slight shift in his accent, a few new words slipping into his vocabulary. But as the weeks went on, the transformation in his speech became undeniable. His voice took on a thicker Jersey inflection, and words like “bro” and “yo” started slipping out naturally, almost without him realizing it. He spoke with more confidence, more swagger, his words carrying a weight that hadn’t been there before.

He even noticed how loud he’d become, but it wasn’t obnoxious—it felt like he was owning the room. His friends started to comment on it, but Alex didn’t mind. It felt like the way he was supposed to talk, like his voice was finally matching the rest of his transformation.

One night, Alex found himself scrolling through YouTube, where he came across a Dom Mazzetti video. He clicked on it, expecting to laugh at the over-the-top persona, but something else happened. As Dom joked about gym culture, diet, and lifting, Alex found himself nodding along, relating to the lifestyle. The gym wasn’t just a place to work out anymore—it was part of who he was becoming.

The next few weeks passed in a blur. Alex’s days revolved around the gym, tanning, and repping his heritage with pride. He found himself following more content creators who embodied the same mindset—guys who lived for the grind, the lifts, and the pride in who they were.

His roommate Frank noticed the changes, too. “Bro, you’re looking jacked,” Frank said one afternoon as Alex flexed in the mirror before heading out to the gym. “You flexing the gains hard now.”

Alex grinned, running a hand through his hair, which he’d started gelling back every morning. “Yeah, man. It just feels right, you know?”

Frank clapped him on the shoulder, a proud smirk on his face. “Told ya. Once you get in the groove, there’s no going back. You’re one of us now, bro. Tanning, lifting, and heritage. Welcome to the crew.”

Alex chuckled, feeling Frank’s words sink in. Wasn’t just about the workouts or the diet no more. It was the whole package—the attitude, the pride, the way he carried himself. He’d become confident, bold, and unapologetic. The gym had become his temple, and every flex in the mirror, every perfectly tanned muscle, reminded him of how far he’d come.

He spoke with more confidence now, his voice carrying a thick Jersey accent that seemed to come naturally. Words like “bro” and “yo” slipped out effortlessly, and he found himself embracing the louder, more assertive side of himself. Even his walk had changed—there was more swagger, more presence.

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

A few weeks later, Alex and Frank were sitting in the living room, scrolling through profiles of potential new roommates. Their lease was ending soon, and they needed to find someone to fill the third room. Frank leaned back in his chair, sipping a protein shake as he swiped through a list of candidates.

“Yo, check this one out,” Alex said, pausing on a profile. “Marco Ricci. Italian last name.”

Frank raised an eyebrow and leaned in, studying the screen. “Oh shit, an Italian? That’s promising.”

They opened Marco’s profile, but instead of seeing someone flexing or rocking a tan, Marco looked... pretty regular. He wasn’t out of shape, but he wasn’t exactly lifting heavy either. Pale, with a pretty average physique, he was the kind of guy who didn’t seem to spend much time at the gym. His shirt was plain, and his expression, while friendly, was far from the confident swagger Alex and Frank had come to expect in their circle.

Alex chuckled, nudging Frank. “Dude’s kinda pasty, huh?”

Frank smirked. “Yeah, bro. Definitely needs some work. But Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know? He’s got the Italian blood—that’s what counts. We can mold him.”

Alex nodded, his mind already racing. Marco might not be there yet, but with the right guidance, who knows? The guy had potential. He just needed some direction.

“Yeah,” Alex said, swiping right on Marco’s profile. “We’ll get him there. If he’s down to move in, I have the perfect playlist in mind."

Frank chuckled deeply, shaking his head. “Bro, he won’t know what hit him.”

Alex grinned, flexing in the mirror nearby. “Hey, Rome wasn’t built in a day, right?”

Frank laughed again, raising his protein shake in a mock toast. “Damn straight, bro."

WANNA BECOME A GUIDO FOR REAL? Try this subliminal:

Guido Subliminal (Accent, Mindset, Discipline, Extreme Confidence)

[rambling-at-midnight]

omg a part 2????

i loved it so much!!!

Ahh I'm so glad you liked it!!! It's my first Jason x reader fic :) Here's a part 2!

Pros and Cons of Midnight Snacks (Part 2)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Civilian!Reader

Summary: Now it’s time for a meet-ugly-ish with some dude named Jason. Also, you see the Red Hood again.

Word count: 6.3k (holy shit)

You’re not crazy, right? It’s weird that the library is completely empty because it closes in two hours and the weather is actually nice outside for once, and some random dude wanders in and sets up two seats down from you. He’s not even here to study; he pulled out a sci-fi novel as soon as he sat down.

Who comes to a GCU campus library to read recreationally? The seats are uncomfortable and plastic. And the sun is shining. Everyone else is outside soaking up the Vitamin D.

Honestly, you’re mostly surprised the chair he’s on didn’t snap as soon as he sat. The dude is huge. Football player huge. Shouldn’t he be at practice, instead of forcing the chair to make the most irritating squeaking noises known to man every time he moves an inch?

You grit your teeth and put on your headphones, but you can still hear the poor chair’s dying lamentations, so you turn on an instrumental playlist that hopefully won’t distract you too much from studying.

You let yourself stew over the annoyance until your stomach growls so loud you hear it over the soft music. He has the good grace not to look at you, but you definitely see him pause.

Okay, you’ll call it even. This is what you get for running to the library right after six hours of classes. You need to cement the knowledge in your mind while it’s still fresh, and if that means you have to forego lunch…

He’s still there two hours later when the closing time alarm goes off. It’s a shrill old-school bell, the kind no one can ignore, and he jumps like he’s never heard it in his life. The poor chair finally gives up. He tumbles to the ground.

You look over in case he needs any help, but he’s scrambling for the book, face bright red.

If he is a football player, you wouldn’t be surprised that he’s never heard the bell before. That sort rarely stays this late at the library—if they enter at all.

He rushes out. You pack up a little more methodically. All that’s left for you to look forward to tonight is trying to study in your apartment, but you never have much luck.

He’s outside the library on his phone when you walk out. Maybe waiting for a ride? You’re a little on edge from the events of two days ago, so you watch him out of the corner of your eye as you walk away.

Thankfully, he doesn’t follow you.

At least the library closes earlier on Wednesdays, 6 pm instead of 9:30. You don’t know why. It’s still a weekday. But it forces you out while the sun’s still shining, which is probably a good thing.

Within two minutes of the twenty-minute walk home, your hip hurts. By the ten-minute mark, you’re trying not to limp.

Despite your better judgment, you keep your gaze turned to the rooftops, even though you know the vigilantes are nocturnal. It’s stupid to want to see a flash of red helmet, anyway. The Red Hood probably saves hundreds of people every week; there’s no way he would remember you.

Of course, when you finally get back, there are the stairs to contend with.

Your cat, that ungrateful little beast, beeps at you furiously for being gone so long. Never mind that your roommate works nights, so at most the cat’s been alone for an hour. He makes a break for the hallway, and you box the doorway with your legs and slam the door closed against your hip as you slip through.

Your injury explodes with pain, but at least the cat doesn’t get out. Ungrateful little beast. As if he isn’t fed and loved enough.

You finish slipping through the doorway and just stand for a moment listening to the blood rushing through your ears. Damn, but that hurt.

In the bathroom mirror, you hike up the hem of your shirt and check the state of your injury.

All in all, it could have been much worse. The bullet scooped out a fair chunk of skin, but it was just a surface wound. There’s no fresh blood on the gauze, and when you change the wrappings, the skin is pink and raw but starting to scab. It scooped out a chunk and left a trail of bruising, but you got off fairly lightly, all things considered.

The GCPD released the robber’s mugshot yesterday morning. In the picture, the man’s eyes were so swollen from your pepper spray he could hardly open them.

You preferred the bullet, honestly.

You try in vain to study a bit more, but even after you take more painkillers, you’re not in the mood. You feed your cat, then curl up on the couch to watch a couple episodes of the show you’re currently in the middle of.

That was the first time you see the huge guy, but it’s certainly not the last.

You wouldn’t notice him so much if he wasn’t the size of a damn refrigerator. He’s gotta be a linebacker for the Knights, but he’s not on their roster. You looked it up after the third time he wandered into the library just a couple minutes after you. It’s probably not updated yet, but you see him so often, you’d like to know his name.

Also, he’d bleached a patch of hair right at the front of his head—was that a trend now, or something?—so it wasn’t hard to spot him.

On Saturday, your feelings shift from mild annoyance and curiosity to a sinking sort of dread when you notice him at the coffeeshop you always visit on the weekends. The employees know you by name and use it to call out your order, so now he knows it, as long as he’s paying attention.

You think he might be.

You don’t want to be that person. Not everything in the world revolves around you, obviously. But you might still be shaken from what happened on Monday, because the thought wiggles in the back of your brain: what if you have a stalker?

You try to tell yourself that it’s just paranoia. GCU isn’t that big a campus, after all, and there are only so many places in the city that are: A. close to campus, B. reasonably priced, and C. comfortable to work in. You’ve run into classmates here before, and you don’t have a monopoly on the library or this coffeeshop. Just because he shows up at the same time you do doesn’t necessarily mean anything. He might be establishing a schedule that just so happens to line up with yours.

But, you have to admit, it is easier for stalkers to stalk people when they know their regular schedule.

You keep a watchful eye out and are pretty good about keeping off the streets after dark, but a week and a half later finds you stranded an hour’s walk from your apartment. The buses worked for two days, then shut down again, and you foolishly believed that following the detour that said would get you home would actually get you home. You don’t want to call an Uber because traffic would make the ride longer than the walk and bankrupt you in the process. Same reason you can’t call anyone to pick you up unless you waited the two hours until rush hour dies down.

Walking is, unfortunately, the best option.

So you clutch your trusty pepper spray and prepare yourself for a long night of looking over your shoulder and ignoring the pain in your side. The wound has mostly closed, although the bruising has gotten worse.

Three minutes later, you hear the roar of a motorcycle followed by angry car honks. You barely pay it any mind until the motorcycle pulls up next to you and doesn't pass.

You keep walking, avoiding eye contact. Maybe ignoring them will dissuade the rider from catcalling you.

It doesn't work. "Hey," the rider says, and it's only because the voice is mechanically distorted, recognizable only because of how many videos of him that you won't admit to looking up the last week, that you look at him. "What are you doing?" asks the Red Hood.

"What are you doing?" you counter. He's blocking the flow of traffic talking to you.

The Red Hood looks over his shoulder, flips off the person honking behind him, and steers his motorcycle onto the sidewalk. He drives fast, and you flinch in case he tries to run you over, but he screeches to a halt at the last second.

"Haven't seen you in a couple of weeks," he says casually, like you two meet up often.

"I've been staying out of trouble," you say.

"Not tonight?"

"No. That wasn't my fault, though. I took the Southwest bus because it was supposed to connect with the L line, but all the signs they posted were a lie, apparently, because—" You cut yourself off. "Never mind, I'm sure you don't care. Point is, I'm walking home. It's not too far."

"It's about an hour," he points out. "How's your bullet wound? Will it object to that walk?"

"I'll be fine."

He pats the back of his motorcycle seat. "Hop on. I'll drive you."

You take a couple hasty steps back. It may not be a white van, but you know better than to follow candy into someone's vehicle. "Oh, no, thanks. Traffic's pretty bad right now."

You get the sense he's smiling when he says, "I bet I can get you back faster than walking." If only he wasn't wearing the stupid shiny helmet, you would be able to read his expressions better.

"Really, I'm okay. I'm sure you have better things to do than drive me home."

"Helping people is literally my job," is his response. "I have to make sure you get home safely. So either you get on the back of my bike, or I follow you the whole walk back to your apartment."

You know a losing battle when you see it. As a general rule of thumb, it's usually smart not to argue with the dude carrying at least two guns. "Don't kidnap me," you order before slinging your leg over the seat.

He chuckles. It's the first time you've ever heard him laugh, and it makes him sound so much younger. "You can't ride like that."

"Like what?"

He cranes his neck to look back at you. There's at least six inches between both your bodies. You clutch the sides of the seat with both your hands, hoping he doesn't take off with such a lurch that you topple off the back. "I drive fast. You'll have to hold on."

"I am holding on."

"To me."

You've only met the man twice. You're pretty sure clinging to someone's back is at least a third-meeting type of touch, but he reaches back. The Red Hood snakes a hand nearly twice the size of yours into the crook of your knee, then yanks you to him. You shoot forward with a strangled yelp and catch yourself on his back.

You've never before understood the phrase 'wall of muscle,' but you get it now.

He is huge. And strong. You gingerly put your hands on his shoulders. That's not an inappropriate touch, you think.

He has to live at the gym, right?

"You're still not holding on," he chides. "I don't have a helmet for you, so you really shouldn't fall off."

You swallow and move your hands, but he's too thick for you to link your hands around his front. So you fist both of them into his jacket. It presses your bodies tight against each other from shoulder to thighs. Through the layers his body radiates heat, but you shiver.

"Going," is all the warning you get.

Then you're gone; the bike shudders beneath you, then takes off like a jet.

You can't catch your breath. This must be what riding a dragon feels like, is your first nonsensical thought, a side effect of your roommate's obsession with Game of Thrones.

The bike roars beneath you, but you can hardly hear it over the rush of wind and the pound of blood in your ears. You can't see much with the wind drying out your eyes, so you press your head against the Red Hood's back and squint to one side. Cars and street lamps blur together into a stream of mismatched lights and colors.

The Red Hood drives fast. He weaves between lanes, runs through red lights, cuts onto the sidewalk. A couple bikers shake their fists at him when he passes them in the bike lane. A lot of cars honk at the two of you.

Judging by the way his shoulders shake with laughter, he likes pissing them off. You have to admit, the feeling is a little intoxicating.

You can't hear the sound, but your front is plastered to his back. Even with the layers of his suit and leather jacket, you can feel the vibrations of sound deep within his chest. He has a fairly deep voice, after all, unless the helmet changes that.

No less than ten minutes later, he parks abruptly. You lift your head, blinking moisture back into your eyes, and stare dumbly at your apartment building.

He'd actually brought you back.

Maybe he really was reformed.

You stumble off the bike onto unsteady legs. The Red Hood kicks his stand into place and rests against the bike, leaning with elbows on his handlebars. Like he expects a Midwest goodbye. And you find yourself dawdling.

Maybe you want one, too.

"Thanks for the ride," you finally say awkwardly.

"Anytime," he says, and you laugh, thinking it's a joke, but he doesn't. After a brief awkward pause, the Red Hood tries, "So how have you been?" as if you're old pals meeting up for brunch, and the question is so ridiculous coming from a sort-of-reformed crime lord slash serial killer that you respond without thinking.

"Pretty good, except I think I may have a stalker."

His helmet doesn't do a great job translating whatever sound he makes in response to that. It comes out as a crackle. "What?"

"I've noticed this dude recently showing up wherever I go," you say. "But I think it's just a coincidence. Sorry. That was a bad joke." It wasn't, but you don't want to accuse someone without proof of stalking you. If he's not, you'll seem self-obsessed. If he is, then he knows that you know, and it's not like the GCPD will do anything. One of your friends from your hometown had a stalker for literal years, and the police never did anything, even after he sent her death threats. They said there wasn't enough proof to make an arrest then, so someone showing up at the same places you are definitely isn't enough proof now.

The Red Hood tilts his head. "Does he make you uncomfortable?"

"You don't need to beat him up or anything on my behalf," you say. "I mean, you've seen me with a bottle of pepper spray. I'm pretty sure I can handle myself."

"I know you can," he says. You can hear the smile in his voice, like he finds something about the situation funny. "And I'm pretty sure that you know that I'm going to check this out anyway."

"No," you say, surprising yourself with your firmness. You can't rely on vigilantes to solve all your problems for you. "Seriously, it's okay. Thanks for the ride. Maybe I'll see you around."

"I'm counting on it," he calls as you walk away.

And he's right. Two days later finds you at the gas station at ten-thirty at night. You don't want to see him, per se. You're definitely not looking over your shoulder at the slightest sound. You definitely didn't check the parking lot for a notorious red motorcycle on your way in, and you certainly aren't taking peeks out the window every time headlights pass by on the street.

You're just... curious.

Maybe.

But you have absolutely no warning, not even a suspicion that someone is behind you, when you reach for a box of Cheez-Its. Someone else's hand gets there first and you nearly jump out of your socks.

"Hey," the Red Hood wheezes. He's clutching his side like he has a cramp. "Question: if I buy these for you, will you patch me up?"

"What?"

"I may have been cut," he admits. Judging by the angle of his hunch, it's a little more serious than just a 'cut'. "So: do we have a deal?"

The thought occurs to you, as you help him up five flights of stairs to your apartment, that you're escorting a strange man into your place of residence. You haven't even given your roommate a heads-up, though you're pretty sure tomorrow's his night off.

Sure enough, the only person there to greet you when you walk in is your cat. As per usual, he tries to escape. The Red Hood gently but firmly ushers him inside with his foot with such ease he must have one of his own. "It's cute," he says, still clutching his side.

"Thanks," you say. "He always tries to get out, but if he actually escapes then he just freezes in the hallway until I bring him back inside." Then you realize that you're discussing your cat, of all things, with the Red Hood. You clear your throat and say, "Let me take a look at you."

The crime lord and cat trail after you into the bathroom. It gets a little cramped because the Red Hood's about as small as a fridge is small, but you two figure out a passable system: he's too tall, even while sitting down, and you don't want to bend in half while you stitch him. So you sit on the toilet, he stands in front of you, and your cat jumps on top of his leather jacket on the counter to observe and judge. Luckily, the suture kit is still in the bathroom from when you thought you would have to stitch yourself up, so it's not long before you're instructing him to lift up the hem of his shirt so you can see the damage.

You hiss between your teeth at the sight. Someone grazed his side with a knife, by the looks of it, but the wound is deep. It might go all the way to his subcutaneous tissue.

After you clean it off, you're sure that it does. "You call this a cut?"

"I've had worse," he says gruffly.

"And you're still alive?" You squint at him.

He huffs like that's funny.

"They basically cut you in two! I don't know if I can fix this. I've never stitched someone up before!"

"What do you mean?" He tilts his head. "You stitched yourself up, remember? You told me you would."

Shit. Of all the ways to stick your foot in your mouth—

"It wasn't that bad," you say weakly.

“It looked pretty bad.”

“It just looked bad because I was wearing a light colored shirt. Don’t worry; I’ve learned my lesson.”

The Red Hood scratches under your cat’s chin. “About wearing light colored clothing, or about getting shot?”

You’re trying to thread the suture needle, but the stupid thread won’t cooperate. “Hmm?”

“Which lesson did you learn?”

“The former, mostly. Believe it or not, ‘try not to get shot’ is something most people, including me, know intuitively.”

"Let me see."

"Yeah, right," you say, "my apartment's basically a strip club, isn't it? First your shirt's coming up, then mine. Absolutely—" You slap his hand away— "Not. I'm fine. Now hold still while I stab you."

The process goes by quickly. He stands like a statue the whole time, like he's used to the pain of getting stitches. Considering his profession, he probably is.

Actually, you can see a couple healed-over scars on his torso just from the small bit of skin he's revealed by pulling up his shirt. And, you're pretty sure, a perfectly defined six-pack, but that's none of your business.

"I don't have the fancy dissolving sutures, unfortunately," you say while you tie off the thread. "These should come out in about a week."

"Yeah, I know," he grunts, letting his shirt fall back down. And you're not disappointed. At all. "Same time next week, then?"

"What?"

"To get them out."

"Uh." Your brain stalls out. You'd been operating under the assumption that this was just another freak coincidental run-in.

Is it just you, or is the Red Hood looking to make a friend out of you? Or maybe just a free pseudo-surgeon?

"Sure," you say. It's not like you can stop him, really.

"Thanks," he says, stroking your cat one more time. Then he nudges the pest off his jacket and shrugs it on, even though there's not really a need for it. The weather's been pretty mild the last week.

You walk him out the door. He pauses in the hallway, turns, and says, "By the way, what's your name?"

You tilt your head and tell it to him.

"Nice to meet you," he says. Then he walks away.

You watch him walk down the hallway until your cat escapes, and then you have to chase him. You're pretty sure the Red Hood sees it, because low-pitched laughter hits your ears as you gather the little bastard up, but when you look, the vigilante's gone.

"God, I hope he's up to date on his tetanus shot."

You find yourself at the coffee shop the next morning, determined not to let a buff bookworm change your routine. You're the first customer, and they have your order ready by the time you finish setting up your stuff on a small table in the corner of the shop, far from where the line will build up when more people trickle in.

Like clockwork, the bookworm wanders in just a couple minutes after you do, orders two coffees, and settles down across the room with his front to you.

Every time you glance up, he's utterly focused on his book. He's probably not watching you. Right?

Fifteen minutes later, the coffees untouched, he stands up. You watch out of the corner of your eye as he picks one up, approaches the counter, and...

Walks right past it.

Walks in your direction.

You stare blatantly, and he holds your gaze with a set jaw and something a little challenging in his gaze.

He's walking to you.

The coffee cup slams on the table, splashing a little over the edge, and you jump to move your laptop away from the liquid.

"Shit, sorry," the bookworm says. He runs away.

You stare until you realize he's grabbing napkins and hurrying back. At least ten, even though the spill's pretty small, and he piles them all onto the table.

His face gets redder the longer you watch without saying anything.

Once he's absolutely sure your laptop is safe from the couple drops he spilled, he balls them all into one large fist and rushes out, "I'm sorry—I was supposed to meet my brother here, but he canceled, and your drink cup's empty, so I was just wondering if you wanted this one? It's a little warm, but..."

"But free is good," you say, deciding to put him out his misery. And he certainly looks miserable rambling in front of you. Like he's mortified for some reason. "Um, thanks. What..."

"Just an iced coffee. Probably watered down."

You take a sip, just to be polite. It is watered down, but he didn't add any milk to it, so that's probably a good thing. "Thanks..." You tilt the cup to look at the name written on the side. "Jason?"

"Yep." He nods. He's still standing in front of you, like he wants to be invited to sit, but you have a lot of work to do, and he's a complete stranger, and all his stuff is still on his table across the room.

Something clatters behind the counter. You both turn in time to see the two baristas duck out of sight, whispering furiously. Probably about the spectacle you two are making.

"You go to GCU's campus library a lot, right?" Jason asks suddenly.

"Yeah, I do. So do you." You don't phrase it like a question.

"Yeah," he says. "It's peaceful to read in there. Quieter than my apartment."

"Okay," you say slowly. You're really not interested in this conversation, but you don't want to be rude.

He must understand you, though, because he rubs the back of his head and steps backwards, mumbling something about getting back to his book.

Jason's brother never does end up meeting him. You tell yourself that's why you keep glancing at him. Once or twice, you two peek at each other at the same time, and you always look away first, face hot like he's caught you doing something wrong.

The next time you go to the library, it's packed. The weather has turned, so students have nothing better to do than prepare for their finals. You head to the quiet floor, slowly losing hope that you'll find a seat.

A head snaps up the moment you walk in, dark-haired with a striking streak of white at his forehead. Jason.

Something like relief passes over his face, and he waves you over.

"I saved your seat," he whispers, dragging his bag off of the chair.

"Thanks," you say, actually touched. "You didn't have to."

He shrugs. "You're my reading buddy."

The next day, he's sitting at the library's entrance when you walk in. Jason shakes his head. "All the seats were already taken when I got here."

"Ugh." Strictly speaking, you don't need to study tonight. You're pretty confident about the next test's material, and you're also pretty burnt out.

"We could check out the Student Center?" he suggests. As if it's a given that the two of you are going to spend the afternoon together. And, you realize, after two straight weeks of studying in his proximity, you don't mind the presumption. That's how you made your closest friend in undergrad, anyway.

In fact, you think you might want to get to know Jason. Maybe ask about his white streak; you've been growing more and more curious about it. And why he's about seven feet tall and two hundred fifty pounds of muscle but has a passion for romance novels.

"I don't think I've studied in there before."

"It's not too bad, but it's a little louder than the library."

So you two head to the Student Center, but he doesn't open his book, and you open your laptop but don't turn it on. He buys you coffee, though you insist that you can pay for it yourself, and a simple query into what book he's reading currently turns into a two-hour conversation.

Jason likes to read every genre, but he likes classics and romance best. He doesn't just have one brother, he has four, and a sister. He's not on the football team like you'd assumed; he just likes to work out. He's finishing up his sophomore year of undergrad studying English Lit—he sees how your smile freezes at those words, and you're asking how old he is, and he's laughing when he tells you he took a couple gap years. He's your age, actually, and that's relieving for reasons you can't quite put to words.

When you check your watch and curse at the time—it's almost time for your cat's dinner—he asks for your number, and you put it into his phone.

You feel good on your walk home. You haven't made a new friend since the first semester of vet school; the course load is too demanding for you to participate in any GCU clubs. Your roommate asks why you're smiling and you wave him off. Of course, your cat doesn't care that you're in a good mood. He only cares about getting fed.

You see Jason a couple more times over the week, and soon you're too embarrassed to admit that you thought he was stalking you. He's almost as bad a texter as you are, responding at such hours you're half-convinced he doesn't sleep, so you're less self-conscious about taking hours to respond.

You've just gotten around to answering his last text when something knocks against your window.

You drop the phone on your face.

The Red Hood is laughing at you when you open the window to let him in. You'd forgotten he was coming, but you don't say so. He tumbles in, moving a little stiffly, but a lot better than he'd been last week. Your cat, the little traitor, runs to greet him and rubs against his ankles, purring like an engine. The Red Hood bends to pet him. "Hey, kitty." The red helmet tips up and those unnerving white lenses fix on you. "Hey, doc. Here to get my stitches out."

"How have you been feeling?" you ask.

"Good," he says, almost defensively.

It makes you suspect that something is wrong, but when you all pile into the bathroom again like it's a clown car and he pulls up his shirt, the wound is healing nicely. No pink or heat that signals infection, no puffy skin. You remove the stitches quickly, and again he hesitates, like he wants to stay longer.

You find yourself thinking about Jason. You're pretty sure you wish he was here.

"Well, thanks."

"Anytime."

He pauses. "Really?"

You shrug. "I mean, not if you need a hospital. Then I'd expect you to head straight to a hospital. But stuff like this—no worse than this, ideally—I guess I can help you with."

"You're pretty cool for a vet," the Red Hood says. "The last one I visited kept freaking out on me for stealing codeine."

"Well, that's a restricted—wait, you were stealing codeine? What for?"

He shrugs.

"What were you using it for," you repeat sternly.

"Okay!" he says loudly. "Well, thanks for patching me up, doc. I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Wait," you call out uselessly, but he vaults out the window. You gasp and rush to the sill, but there's no Red Hood-shaped puddle on the ground. Instead, his rapidly shrinking form disappears in the distance, swinging between the buildings that make up the Gotham skyline.

You don't see the Red Hood for a while after that, but you hear whispers of him wearing a new costume. You get caught up with finals and Jason, who asks you out after the semester ends.

Your vehement 'yes' takes you by surprise. Him, too, judging by his wide eyes and wider smile. You wonder why he asked if he thought you would say no. You wonder why you didn't realize earlier how desperately you wanted him to.

Now that you're out of school, you pick up shifts at the vet clinic. By some unhappy circumstance, they can only schedule you for the evening shifts. Jason works nights, too, and you've never fully squirreled out where he works, but at least you can spend some days together.

It's when you're walking back from your first shift that you see the Red Hood again after almost three weeks of radio silence. He pulls up next to you on the motorcycle. It's so late that there's no one on the road, so he stays on the asphalt and idles along at your walking pace until you break and say, "Long time no see, Hood."

"Did you miss me?" he teases.

You stop walking, because.

Most of his costume changed. Because it's summer, and even the nights are hot and muggy, you assume.

The pants are the same. So are the boots. But his jacket is red and sleeveless and has a hood that goes down to his eyebrows, the armor beneath short-sleeved, which means most of his arms are bare.

And...

Your mouth is dry. You swallow.

You're pretty sure not even Batman is that ripped. He looks like he's chiseled out of marble.

The longer you're speechless, the more amused he gets. You don't know how you know that, but something about his posture seems smug.

"You're taking 'red hood' seriously now, are you?" is all you manage to say. Because what else are you supposed to comment on? His bare forearms? His veins are so beautifully pronounced, they would be a dream to take blood from, but you have a boyfriend of a whole one and a half weeks, and you may be many things, but you're not a cheater.

He laughs, then pulls his hood low when it slips back a bit. His voice is still modulated, although it's not through a red helmet anymore. This is more like a muzzle. You can't tell if the eye covering is part of it, or like the domino masks that Batman and Robin wear, but the lenses are red now instead of white.

He's really leaning into the theme.

"You want a ride?"

"We're two blocks from my apartment."

He shrugs. "I'm heading there anyway."

What the hell. You've already hopped on the back of his bike before. It's easier to do so the second time. You wrap your arms around his torso again, and when his arms settle over your own, they're warm with his body heat, but not hard, even though the muscles look sharp enough to cut glass. He's firm all over, but his skin is soft, apart from the raised, bumpy scars that seem to cover him from head-to-toe. It makes you worry about him, just a little.

He doesn't drive fast this time. He drives slow enough to hold a conversation and tosses over his shoulder, "So what's new with you?"

"Not much," you say into his ear. Is it just you, or does he shiver? "I finished another semester of vet school."

"Top grades, I'm sure. Did you get extra credit for patching me up?"

"I wish." No, your grades are good, but not exceptional. But exceptional is what got you into vet school. As long as you graduate with a DVM, even if you're the lowest in your class, you're a licensed doctor. There's some relief in that. "The dude I thought was stalking me asked me out, actually."

"Really?" he asks, interested and alert. "Was he really stalking you? Do you need me to scare him off for you?"

"No," you say, smiling at the thought of the Red Hood trying to scare off Jason. They're about the same build, now that you think about it, which you're sure the vigilante isn't used to. And Jason's never been anything but gentle and polite, but you saw an undercurrent of something strong, something like titanium, under that gentle spirit the one time he stood up for one of the baristas at the coffee shop that you first spoke to each other. He hadn't needed to do much apart from stand up and glare at the beleaguered corporate guy angry that there wasn't enough sugar in his coffee, and the dude shut up and scurried out as fast as he could.

It was probably the hottest thing you've ever seen him do, except for that one time you pushed your laptop a little too close to the edge of your desk while studying, it tipped over, and he caught it one-handed without looking up from his book. What can you say? Saving you a couple hundred dollars in getting that fixed was hot.

"It was a misunderstanding," you say. "We just ended up in the same places at the same times."

A gust of wind pushes back the Red Hood's hood, exposing a head of thick, dark hair, the same shade of black as Jason's. The motorcycle swerves in his haste to pull his hood back up, and when you reach your apartment and hop off the bike, he's pushing his hair back, back, beneath the hood.

What's the point of ditching the helmet if he's just going to be fussing with the hood all the time?

"What's new with you?" you ask, scuffing your toe against the sidewalk. Your shoes are falling apart; the sole is peeling away.

"Same old, same old," he says. His voice sounds rougher, but that might just be the new modulator.

"How's your side?"

"How's yours?" he counters. "You still haven't let me see it. I bet it scarred because you were too stubborn to take my advice and patch it up."

You will never admit that he's right. You challenge, "Let's compare scars, then," knowing full well his armor dips below his pants. It's a little silly to picture the Red Hood wearing an armored one-piece, but that's all you can imagine.

He clucks his tongue and shakes his head. It dislodges the hood. A patch of hair falls down to his forehead, and it's white.

But the back of his hair is black.

White and black—

Your stomach flips.

"I thought you had a boyfriend, honey. Why're you asking me to strip?"

So that's what all the teasing's been about. He hasn't been flirting—or he has, his own weird version of flirting, because he's a dumbass.

For a moment all you can hear is the rush of blood in your ears, then you flex your fingers to regain feeling in them. You roll your eyes and say, "I think we've established that my apartment is basically a strip club. Why don't you come up and show me, Jason?"

"Well, I'm flattered, but—what?" He splutters like he's choking on his own tongue. Serves him right. "I'm not—why do you think that—I mean, I could be anyone—"

Yeah, he can have his little crisis on the street. You tug on your own fringe, then swipe into the building.

You hear his muffled cursing as the door closes.

You look forward to him catching up.

(My requests are open, so let me know if you want me to write anything in particular! Also let me know if you want to be added to a taglist.)

Forever tag list:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes @queenmissfit @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @iksey @thehyperactiveteen @luxmoonlight @andreasworlsboring101

[natriae]

Oh to make out with omi omi like it’s so messy and hot and surprisingly he love it too. Maybe one day u are having drinks and things get heated. OMGGG a roommate au fuckkkkk my mind goes burrrrrrrrrr

NO FRR needy omi makes me go brrrr

I'M SO SORRY FOR NOT WRITTING THIS SOONER

WARNINGS: 17+, BONER ALERT!!, drinking

Friday nights with your roomate weren't unusual. The two of you often going to the fanciest bars in Tokyo with the best views. You'll have to thank the Volleyball Association for his hefty paycheck. The two of you didn't get to see each other often between you pursuing your master's degree, Kiyoomi traveling and his tough practice schedules. The most interaction you guys have had in the pass month was passing him in the hallways. Him always being half dead and you... well you weren't in the best shape as well.

So you decided that the last friday of the month was Omi and Y/N time. While you wanted to spend this time showing him how greatful you are he took you in, omi had the idea of going to "better" establishments. By better he means 3 star michelin restaurants... the ones you can't afford.

Yes, it was nice to see that his name allowed the two of you to experience these beautiful places, but as of lately these seemed more like dates rather than two roommates catching up. Not that your opposed to a date with Omi. Have you seen his body? But he's seen you at your worse. Crying to him at the bar in Ongiri Miya about how your getting evicted from your apartment and how your behind on loan payments. He's seen you sick and begging for him to get you toilet paper. If anything he probably takes you to these places to be his wing woman.

One too many drinks later, and the two of your are stumbling out of the restaurant to his luxurious car. Kiyoomi was much better at hiding his drunkenness than you where. The street lamps were just dim enough to hide the pink dusting his cheeks.

All of your weight pressed into his side while he attempted to keep you upright. "Y/N you need to work with me," the taller man grunts before decides to lift you up over his shoulder. "we need to go home," he breaths into the chill night air.

"whoa, big boy take me on a date first," you giggle into his back. Hitting one of his butt cheeks with the palm of your hand.

You're flipped back upright once you reach his car. He opens the back door and tosses you in. It takes a moment for your brain to register that he got in next to you. "why aren't you driving?" you question, laying your head on his shoulder.

"I'm drunk...gonna wait till I sober up a bit," he states closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Always so responsible. "Also we live together, and that was a date, so I wouldn't be in the wrong," he says sternly looking down at you.

Popping your head up you look at him with furrowed brows. "what do you mean that was a date?"

"Was it not?" He questions, more so to himself than to you. While Kiyoomi is lost in his own thoughts yours run wilding thinking of all the times the two of you have gone out like this. He never said any of these were dates...

You watch as Kiyoomi's adam's apple bobs in his throat. If his face wasn't flushed enough it's clear now. His ears bright red as he stutters out his next words. "d-did you not want this to be a date?"

Did he really think these were all dates? You attempt to look at him in the eyes, yet his fail to meet yours. His head remains looking at the window leaving you with only the view of his red ear. Memories flood your mind in attempt to find the word date leave his mouth during any of your plans. Yet all you can remember are the times Kiyoomi was left stressed he wouldn't have time to shower and change, how he spent an abnormally long time on his hair, or how he always would sneak his card to the waiter so he paid for your meal.

"Hey, look at me," you whisper, lightly moving his chin to face you. His pupils widen over his already dark eyes making them look like perfect tapioca pearls. "we're these all dates?" did you want these to all be dates? Kiyoomi nods his head slowly, and you drop your hand from his face. Unwanted touch was not the man's specialty, yet his hand drops to yours. Placing it back on his cheek, as he looks into your eyes.

"I didn't know how to ask you, and I definitely drank to much tonight," his face flushes more as he rubs your hand softly. "Miya told me to ask you tonight, but i was.."

"Kiyoomi you can say you were nervous," you whisper in the dark car inches from his face.

"never," he smirks. That's something you can tease him about tomorrow. You want nothing more then to kiss the stupidly handsome man. "didn't think you'd like me.. you know with my habits," he states barely loud enough to hear.

"how can I not, at least i know you don't have shit stains," you giggle, leaning closer, noses almost touching. He giggles with you, a sound you don't get to hear often. The deep breath he takes is almost enough of a distraction for you to miss the way his eyes flicker down to your lips.

"Kiyoomi"

"huh" he responds on autopilot.

"do you wanna kiss me?" you ask, eyes widening like that of a doe.

"may I?" the gentleman in him asks. Not even a second later your leaning completely into him. Leaving a soft kiss on his lips. His eyes remain shut after you seperate. Your nose still touching his, a small smile escapes as you lean in to kiss him longer. His hand comes to rest on your neck to push you futher into him. You may have broken Kiyoomi.

He bites your lower lip as his hand leaves your neck to wrap around your body while his other hand grabs your thigh to help situate you on his lap. Both of your hands hold his face as you deepen the kiss. You can't help, but strattle him while your tongues explore each others mouths. It's mess and sloppy as saliva drips from the corner of your mouth. His large palms move under your dress to kneed your ass. Your not even sure this is your Kiyoomi with the way his hand slaps, strach that, spikes your ass. Kneading the flesh before repeating the action. Your left unbuttoning his shirt as he begins to trail kisses down your neck. His hands go to waist to push your heat to his hard on.

They were right, it's always the quiet ones.

Your hands tangle in his hair as your left grinding onto him. At this point your dress is bunched up around your waist, allowing Kiyoomi's hands to play with the string of your thong.

Kiyoomi's deep breaths lead you on as you kiss down his neck. "y/n, y/n, not here," he breathlessly rasps. He hears your whine as you grind a little harder into him. He laughs before bringing your face to look at him. His hairs a mess, shirt halfway unbottoned, and his breathless. What god do you have to thank for this sight.