#and then i never got over them bc they made me feel closer to my culture

[perdidosbucky-yyo]

OHMYGOOOOOOD

Thank God this wasn't as sad as the others 😭 I needed a break from crying.

"Maybe it’s fate," she joked, but her tone had a hint of seriousness.

The way I almost screamed bc IT IS FATE 🥺🩷

Logan followed without complaint, falling into step beside you as you made your way to the car. The streets were quieter than usual, but the tension between rival families was palpable—something was brewing, and everyone knew it.

Istg when I read this I was so sure y/n would end up with a bullet between her eyes, that's how scared I am😂

You laughed, standing up and dusting your hands off. “Sorry to disappoint. I’ve got a weakness for strays.”

Logan being the ultimate stray😅🤭 she's always drawn to him

Mr. Russo gave Logan a once-over, then grinned, his false teeth gleaming. “You any good at cards, tough guy?”

This was so precious to me!! Logan playing cards with y/n and her friends ❤️

“Yeah?” You took a step closer, crossing your arms with a playful grin. “And here I thought I’d be driving you crazy.”

“You do,” he murmured, almost too quietly. His lips turned up slightly, but he looked away, that unspoken wall going back up.

This has so many meanings, not only flirting but I can imagine after over 100 years loving and losing the same person over and over, that would definitely drive him crazy

You glanced down the hall and shrugged. “Guess I can live with that. For now.”

Logan’s lips twitched, just barely. “For now,” he echoed, and there was something heavier in those words, something he wasn’t sharing.

MY HEART ACHED💔💔💔💔

The kiss was desperate, wild, like he was making up for lost time. His lips claimed yours with a roughness that sent a shiver down your spine, his hands moving to cradle your face, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t stand the distance. You gasped against his mouth, your fingers finding their way into his hair, tugging him down harder.

Logan groaned into your mouth, a deep, almost pained sound, and the desperation in it made your blood race. He kissed you like he was starving, like he needed this, needed you, and you felt your body melt into him.

Omfg I've never seen them so passionate it's making me feel things 😮‍💨 the smut was perfect balance of passion and desperation

And this time, he was determined to make it last as long as he could. Maybe, just maybe, even put that ring to use.

Screaming crying throwing up 😭🥺🥺🥺 bc I desperately need to see when he proposes but I can't even imagine how it would go

You felt a surge of affection for him then, this man who’d somehow become both your protector and your closest confidant. He was rough around the edges, guarded and distant with everyone else—but with you, he was different. You brought out a softness in him, a warmth that felt as though it had been buried for a long, long time.

This might be one of the best dialogues I've read, bc it's so true 🥺 for decades this man has tried everything in his power to cherish and protect the love of his life, she's the only one that brings out a resemblance of peace on him😭💔

Logan’s gaze darkened. “It’s not. You know that. And anyone who tries to take it without your say? They got me to deal with.” His voice was low and dangerous, a promise just for you.

Forever obsessed with this story and the way he will do anything to help and adore y/n❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

i love you, in every time ࿐‧₊ 1973 - we meet again my dear...

chapter summary: After leaving Team X behind, Logan finds himself back in New York City working as a bodyguard for various people. Until he finds himself acting as a bodyguard for you, a mobster's daughter.

word count: 18.3k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: i'm a sucker for the bodyguard trope (and also just dofp logan in general, that man makes me go feral), so you know i had to do it when given the chance! i had so much fun writing this version of reader, especially because this is the closest to 'modern' times that we've gotten and i didn't have to do a ton of research about this year. the tags might give away a little bit of the plot, but i promise it's gonna be a fun ride ;)

warnings/tags: fluff, angst, 70s!logan, mafia/mob, implied age gap, flirting, smut, thigh riding, unprotected piv, creampie, arranged marriage

series masterlist - chapter 4 → chapter 6

He left Stryker, Victor, and Team X behind, settling in New York City as a bodyguard, hired by various people: politicians, the mafia, anyone.

Logan was now getting his fifth job, protecting a mobster’s young daughter.

He was used to jobs like this by now, but something about this one felt... different. As he walked through the large estate, the details blurred around him. His focus was on the job—until the moment he saw you.

You were standing by the window, the sunlight filtering through the curtains, casting a soft glow over your face. There was something familiar about the way you held yourself, the way your hair fell over your shoulders. For a second, it felt like the air was sucked out of the room.

Logan’s chest tightened.

It was you.

Same face. Same presence. Same pull that had haunted him for over a century.

But you were different, too. This time, you weren’t a schoolteacher, a nurse, or a coal miner’s wife. You were his new job.

You turned, eyes meeting his, and for a brief moment, it felt like you recognized him too. That sense of familiarity flickered across your face before you smiled—polite, but distant.

“Y/N, this is Logan,” the mobster—your father—introduced. “He’ll be your new bodyguard.”

Your father’s voice faded into the background as Logan’s gaze remained locked on you. You gave a small nod, extending your hand. “Nice to meet you, Logan.”

Logan stared at your hand for a beat too long before taking it. That brief contact sent a shock through him, an old memory he couldn’t quite shake.

“Likewise,” he muttered, his voice rougher than he intended.

Your father clapped Logan on the back. “I expect you’ll keep her safe. There’s been some... tension with a rival family.”

Logan only nodded, but his attention stayed on you. You were right in front of him, alive. But you didn’t know him. Like always.

After your father left the room, you leaned against the window frame, crossing your arms. “So, how long have you been doing this?” you asked, your tone casual.

Logan leaned against the wall, watching you closely. “Long enough.”

You raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth. “That’s vague.”

He didn’t respond, and for a moment, silence settled between you two. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was something unsaid hanging in the air.

“What about you?” Logan asked, more to fill the space than out of curiosity. “How do you feel about having a bodyguard?”

You shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

That earned a faint, almost imperceptible smile from Logan, but he quickly covered it with a grunt. “Glad to hear it.”

A pause. Then you looked at him, your eyes narrowing slightly, like you were trying to figure him out. “You seem... familiar.”

Logan stiffened. “Don’t think we’ve met before.”

You tilted your head, studying him. “No, but... I don’t know. Something about you.”

Logan’s heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his expression neutral. He couldn’t tell you. Not about the past lives, not about how many times he had watched you die.

You shrugged it off, smiling again. “Maybe I’m just imagining things.”

“Maybe,” Logan muttered, not meeting your eyes this time.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of introductions, schedules, and instructions from your father. Logan followed at a distance, keeping an eye on you, but his mind was elsewhere.

That night, Logan sat on the balcony just outside your room, staring out at the city lights. His thoughts raced, the weight of the engagement ring in his pocket feeling heavier than usual.

You were alive. Again.

But for how long this time?

---

You plopped onto your bed, the wire from your rotary phone stretching with you, “he is good looking though.”

You could practically hear Jennifer’s grin through the phone, “oh, yeah? Man, all your bodyguards are good looking. It’s not fair!”

You laughed, twirling the phone cord between your fingers. "He’s… different though. I can’t quite put my finger on it. He’s quiet, but not in the usual 'I’m-paid-to-watch-you' way."

"Is he mysterious?" Jennifer teased, her voice light. "Maybe he’s got some dark, brooding backstory. Mob families always hire guys like that—‘strong and silent.’"

You snorted. "Maybe. But he’s not like the others." You hesitated, leaning back against the pillows, staring at the ceiling. “There’s something familiar about him… like I’ve met him before.”

Jennifer paused on the other end of the line, then her voice softened. "You think he’s one of your dad’s guys from back in the day?"

You shook your head, even though she couldn’t see it. "No, it’s not that. It’s… weird, Jen. Like I know him, but I don’t. It’s been bugging me since I met him."

"Maybe it’s fate," she joked, but her tone had a hint of seriousness. "You’ve been going through bodyguards like they’re tissues. Maybe this one’s here to stick around."

You rolled your eyes but smiled. "Fate? You’ve been reading too many romance novels."

"Hey, a girl can dream!" Jennifer laughed. "But seriously, if you feel something, maybe it’s worth looking into. He’s hot, right?"

You smiled at that, though your thoughts wandered back to Logan. The way his eyes lingered on you, like he was seeing something no one else could. "Yeah," you admitted softly. "He’s definitely that. He’s probably as old as my dad or somethin’. But man, Jen, if you saw him you’d lose your mind.”

You twirled the phone cord around your finger, still smiling to yourself, but your thoughts kept circling back to Logan. Something about the way he looked at you—like he knew more than he was saying—stuck with you. It wasn’t creepy or overprotective. It was... familiar. Comforting, even.

Jennifer’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “Hey, don’t overthink it, okay? Enjoy the view for once. Not everyone gets a hot bodyguard with a mysterious vibe. Maybe he’s the silver lining to your dad’s whole ‘paranoia’ problem.”

You laughed quietly. “Yeah, maybe.”

You hung up not long after, still feeling the weight of that odd, lingering sense of déjà vu.

---

The next morning, Logan was waiting for you downstairs. Dressed in his usual dark clothes, he stood near the front door with his hands in his pockets, posture relaxed but alert. His eyes flicked toward you the second you entered the room.

There it was again—that heavy gaze that made it feel like he could see right through you.

“Mornin’,” you said, offering a small smile.

“Mornin’,” Logan replied, his voice gravelly.

Your father wasn’t home—out dealing with ‘business’—which gave you a rare moment to yourself. Well, mostly. You slipped on your leather jacket and glanced at Logan, your lips quirking up in a teasing grin. “What’s the plan, bodyguard? Gonna follow me around all day?”

Logan grunted, something close to amusement flashing in his eyes. “That’s the job.”

“You always this chatty?”

“Only when I meet interesting people.” His tone was dry, but there was the faintest flicker of a smile beneath it.

You snorted, heading for the door. “C’mon, hope you like running errands.”

Logan followed without complaint, falling into step beside you as you made your way to the car. The streets were quieter than usual, but the tension between rival families was palpable—something was brewing, and everyone knew it.

Still, Logan’s presence made you feel... safer. Like nothing bad could happen as long as he was there. It was strange. You barely knew him, but being around him felt easy. Natural. Like you’d known him for a lot longer than a day.

---

When you said you were going to run ‘errands,’ Logan hadn’t expected you to walk straight into an animal shelter. He followed you through the entrance, nodding politely at the woman at the front desk as you greeted her like an old friend.

“Morning, Lorraine!” you said with a bright smile.

Lorraine, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, smiled back. “There’s my favorite troublemaker. The pups will be glad to see you.” She cast a curious glance at Logan. “And who’s this?”

“My latest babysitter,” you said with a smirk, glancing at Logan. “Logan, meet Lorraine. Lorraine, Logan.”

Logan gave a curt nod. “Ma’am.”

Lorraine chuckled. “A man of few words. I like him already.” She waved you both toward the back. “Go on, they’ve been waiting for you.”

As soon as you walked past the front desk and entered the back area, the sound of excited barking filled the air. Dogs of all sizes pressed their noses against the bars of their cages, tails wagging furiously at the sight of you.

You crouched down in front of one of the kennels, talking softly to a scruffy little mutt as it whined and pawed at the bars. “Hey, buddy. Miss me?”

Logan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching the way you scratched behind the dog's ears. There was something easy about the way you moved here, something soft. For a mobster’s kid, you had a surprisingly gentle touch.

"Didn't expect this to be part of the job," Logan muttered after a moment, his voice low but teasing.

You glanced up, grinning. "What, thought I’d be shopping for fur coats or shaking people down for cash?"

Logan raised a brow. "Somethin’ like that."

You laughed, standing up and dusting your hands off. “Sorry to disappoint. I’ve got a weakness for strays.” You reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out a small bag of treats, tossing some into the kennels. "These guys have it rough enough without me skipping out on them."

Logan watched as the dogs practically fought over the treats, barking happily at your attention. You moved from cage to cage, giving each dog a little affection. It was... unexpected.

Logan watched you toss the last treat into one of the kennels, the scruffy mutt practically vibrating with happiness. He leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, an amused glint in his eyes as you turned and dusted your hands off with a grin.

"You’re full of surprises," Logan muttered.

You raised an eyebrow, smirking as you folded your arms. “Oh, yeah? Disappointed?”

"Not exactly." His lips twitched, like he was fighting a smile.

You took a step closer, tilting your head. "Well, what did you expect?"

Logan shrugged, keeping his expression neutral. "Spoiled. Entitled. Maybe a little dangerous."

You laughed, the sound light and easy, and Logan’s chest tightened in a way that felt too familiar. "Dangerous, huh? Guess I’ve got some layers." You gave him a playful once-over. "What about you? Big, scary bodyguard with a brooding vibe. Got any surprises I should know about?"

Logan snorted. "Not really."

You narrowed your eyes like you didn’t quite believe him, but instead of pressing, you motioned toward the door. "C’mon. I’ve got one more stop."

Logan fell into step beside you as you exited the shelter and made your way toward the car. You chatted casually, filling the silence with stories about your favorite dogs at the shelter. But Logan stayed mostly quiet, his mind racing. It wasn’t just your voice—it was you. The way you carried yourself, the way you teased him like it was second nature.

He stole a glance at you as you drove. God, it felt the same as always. Like gravity pulled him toward you whether he wanted it or not.

---

Logan should’ve expected the second time around that you weren’t taking him to a normal place for errands. He was even more surprised when you parked in a nursing home parking lot and got out with that same pep in your step.

The sliding doors opened as you walked up to the front counter, where a middle-aged woman with tired eyes peered over the top of a blocky computer monitor. Her name tag read Carol.

“Morning, Carol,” you chirped with an easy smile, tapping your fingers on the desk.

Carol looked up and brightened at the sight of you. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite visitor. Here to cheer up the old-timers again?”

“Always,” you said, flashing a grin. “And I brought backup today.” You gestured behind you to Logan, who gave a brief nod.

Carol gave him a once-over and arched an eyebrow. “Well now, you didn’t tell me you’d be bringing a tall drink of water.”

You smirked, glancing over your shoulder at Logan. “Yeah, figured I’d mix things up.”

Logan just grunted in response, but the corner of his mouth twitched slightly—half amusement, half something else. Carol winked at you before waving toward the hallway. “You know where to find them.”

You led Logan down the hall, your steps light and familiar as if you'd been coming here for years. He followed quietly, his sharp gaze flicking between doorways and hallways, always alert.

“You spend a lot of time here?” Logan asked as you slowed near a door marked Activity Room.

You shrugged. “Yeah. Most of these folks don’t get many visitors. It’s nice to stop by and remind them they’re not forgotten.”

Logan gave a small grunt of acknowledgment. It was such a simple thing—volunteering at a nursing home—but it hit him hard. It was just like you to find the overlooked parts of the world and give them your attention, like the dogs at the shelter, like the people here. You always had that streak of kindness, no matter which life you were living.

You nudged open the door, stepping into the room. A group of residents sat in mismatched chairs, some knitting, others half-watching a daytime soap on an old television. At the sight of you, faces lit up.

“There she is!” one of the older women called, setting her knitting aside with a delighted clap of her hands. “I thought you forgot about us!”

“As if I ever could,” you replied warmly, walking over to give her a light hug.

Logan lingered near the doorway, watching as you moved through the room like you belonged there, chatting with each resident, asking about their week, their families—if they remembered them. His heart twisted, both with admiration and an ache that wouldn’t quit.

You noticed him standing off to the side and shot him a teasing grin. “Don’t be shy, Logan. They won’t bite.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Not worried about them.”

You laughed, turning back to an older man with a deck of cards spread out in front of him. “Logan, meet Mr. Russo. He’s got a mean poker face.”

Mr. Russo gave Logan a once-over, then grinned, his false teeth gleaming. “You any good at cards, tough guy?”

Logan shrugged. “I can hold my own.”

You slid into the chair beside Mr. Russo, motioning for Logan to join you. “Care to test your luck?”

Logan hesitated for only a moment before pulling out a chair, the legs scraping against the linoleum. As he sat down, you dealt him a hand, your fingers brushing his in the process—a fleeting touch, but enough to send a jolt of familiarity through both of you.

You caught Logan’s gaze over the cards, a flicker of something unspoken passing between you. There it was again—that sense that you knew him somehow, though you couldn’t quite place it. It nagged at you, but you let it pass, offering him a playful smirk instead.

“Careful,” you warned. “I don’t go easy on anyone.”

Logan returned the smirk, something dangerous glinting in his eyes. “Neither do I.”

---

After the game, which you won—barely, you said your goodbyes to the residents, promising to visit again soon. Logan followed silently as you made your way back to the car, the soft clinking of your keys the only sound between you.

“Not what you expected for today, huh?” you asked as you slid into the driver’s seat.

Logan leaned against the car door, arms crossed. “Not exactly.”

You smiled, starting the engine. “Bet you thought being a mobster’s kid would be more... glamorous.”

“Something like that.” He gave you a sidelong glance. “You like keeping people guessing, don’t you?”

You grinned, shifting the car into drive. “It’s one of my many talents.”

The two of you drove in companionable silence, the hum of the city filling the space between you. Logan rested his elbow on the window frame, glancing at you every so often. You were like a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve—different from the others, yet still unmistakably you.

“Why do you do it?” he asked after a while. “The shelter, the nursing home. You don’t have to.”

You shrugged, your expression thoughtful. "Dunno. Just because I was born into this life doesn’t mean I like what my dad does. I guess sometimes I feel like I’m tryin’ to balance the scales."

Logan leaned back against the seat, his sharp gaze on you, but he didn’t respond right away. You could tell he was chewing on that—probably picking apart your words, trying to figure you out. He always seemed like the kind of man who noticed everything, even if he didn’t say much about it.

You flashed him a teasing grin, trying to lighten the mood. "What about you? Any skeletons in the closet? Or are you just a man of mystery with perfect timing?"

Logan snorted softly, his lips twitching in that almost-smile he had. "I’m no mystery. Just do my job."

"Oh, come on," you pressed, throwing him a playful look. "You gotta give me something. Favorite food? Ever been married? Deep, dark secret?"

He gave you a sidelong glance, amused but guarded. "Steak. No. And not a chance."

You huffed in mock disappointment, drumming your fingers on the steering wheel. "You’re no fun, Logan."

"Never said I was," he muttered, but there was warmth in his tone, like he didn’t mind your teasing at all.

The conversation paused for a moment, the soft hum of the engine filling the space between you. Logan’s eyes lingered on you a little longer than they probably should have—taking in the curve of your smile, the way your fingers tapped a rhythm on the wheel.

And damn, if you didn’t make it hard to stay detached. You were so... alive. Every glance, every smile, every little laugh. You carried yourself like someone who knew how fleeting things could be—and even though Logan knew you couldn’t remember, he remembered every time you’d slipped through his fingers. That thought settled heavy in his chest, like a weight he carried everywhere.

You shot him a grin. "You know, if you keep looking at me like that, I’m gonna think you’re interested."

Logan’s lips twitched. "What makes you think I’m not?"

The boldness of his response caught you off guard for a second, but you recovered quickly, leaning a little closer, eyes glinting with mischief. "Careful, tough guy. You’re supposed to be protecting me, not flirting with me."

"Who says I can’t do both?" His voice was low, rough, and it sent a small shiver down your spine.

You tilted your head, pretending to consider it. "I think my dad might disagree."

Logan’s eyes darkened slightly, though his expression didn’t change. "Your dad’s not here."

There it was—that pull again, the quiet, unspoken gravity between the two of you. It was like standing on the edge of something dangerous and thrilling all at once. You felt it in the way his gaze lingered, in the weight of his words. He wasn’t just playing along.

You cleared your throat, breaking the tension with a teasing smile. "Well, if you’re planning on making a move, Logan, you better make it good. I’ve got high standards, y’know."

Logan let out a low chuckle—quiet, but genuine—and for a moment, you thought you saw something softer in his eyes. Something like... affection.

But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by that familiar guarded expression.

"Noted," he muttered, shifting his gaze back to the road ahead.

You grinned, satisfied that you’d managed to chip away at his walls, even if only a little.

---

The two of you finished your errands without any trouble, stopping by a grocery store for some essentials and grabbing a late lunch at a small diner tucked away from the main streets. It wasn’t much—just burgers and fries—but sitting across from Logan in the booth, you felt surprisingly content.

He was quiet most of the time, but not in a way that felt awkward. It was... comfortable. Like he didn’t need to fill the silence just for the sake of it. And every now and then, he’d throw out a dry, sarcastic comment that made you laugh harder than you expected.

You leaned back in the booth, sipping your soda and watching him over the rim of your glass. "Y’know, Logan... you’re not half as scary as you look."

Logan raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly. "Disappointed?"

"Not at all," you replied, your smile turning a little softer. "I like surprises."

He held your gaze for a moment, something unreadable flickering behind those sharp blue eyes. And for a second—just a second—you thought maybe, just maybe, there was something familiar about the way he looked at you. Like you were more than just a job to him.

But before you could dwell on it, Logan glanced at his watch and cleared his throat. "We should head back. Your old man’ll be expecting you."

You sighed dramatically, sliding out of the booth. "Guess my fun’s over."

Logan chuckled, tossing a few bills on the table for the check. "For now."

You gave him a playful nudge as you walked past him toward the door. "Don’t sound too excited."

---

By the time you got back to the house, the sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting the streets in a soft orange glow. Logan followed you inside, his quiet presence grounding you in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

"Thanks for today," you said, tossing your jacket onto a chair.

Logan gave a small nod, leaning against the wall near the door. "No problem."

You hesitated for a moment, then shot him one last grin. "You know, you’re not as bad as I thought."

"Same to you," he replied, that almost-smile creeping back onto his face.

And just like that, the unspoken connection between you simmered beneath the surface, waiting.

Maybe Logan was right. Maybe your dad would be pissed if he knew how much you enjoyed your new bodyguard’s company.

But standing there, watching Logan’s gaze linger on you for just a beat too long, you found you didn’t care all that much.

"Goodnight, Logan," you said softly, turning toward the stairs.

"Goodnight, Y/N," he replied, his voice low and steady.

And as you climbed the stairs, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the first time you’d said goodnight to him like this.

Not by a long shot.

---

Your dad told you not to leave the house today, which was fine by you, you had laundry to do anyways.

It had become habit to do your own laundry, even if you did have maids around the house. Nancy, one of the older maids, was the one to teach you that, along with cooking and cleaning since your mother has been gone since you were little.

You had a radio set on the washer, the familiar croon of 70s tunes filling the small laundry room as you pulled warm clothes from the dryer into a basket. You’d been at it for the better part of the morning, the simple domestic task giving you a sense of normalcy. The soft hum of the machines, the crackling radio, and the scent of clean laundry— it was all routine.

Routine helped keep your mind off the storm brewing outside your little bubble.

You sighed, swaying your hips a bit to the music as you lifted the basket. The house felt quieter today, with your dad off dealing with ‘business’ as usual. And Logan? He was somewhere nearby, probably lurking in the shadows like the brooding protector he was.

As if on cue, Logan appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. He was dressed in his usual dark clothing, looking as stoic as ever. You wondered if he ever wore anything other than flannels and a leather jacket.

"You know, I didn’t take you for the laundry-doing type," he remarked, his gravelly voice cutting through the music.

You raised an eyebrow, throwing a playful glance over your shoulder. "What, you think I’m too spoiled to do my own chores?"

Logan's lips twitched, almost forming a smile. "Something like that."

You smirked, grabbing the laundry basket and turning to face him. "I like to surprise people."

"You’re good at it," he replied, his gaze lingering a little longer than usual. There was something behind those eyes, something deeper, but as always, he kept it hidden beneath that calm, impenetrable exterior.

You tilted your head, leaning your hip against the dryer. "You sticking around or just checking on me?"

Logan shrugged, though his eyes never left yours. "Just making sure you're not running off anywhere. Your dad was pretty clear about staying put."

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips softened the gesture. "I’ll be a good girl. Promise."

Logan grunted in response, pushing off the doorframe and walking closer. "You’re a lot of things, Y/N. Not sure ‘good girl’ is one of them."

You let out a laugh, swatting at him with a towel. "Hey, I can behave when I want to. It’s just more fun not to."

He caught your wrist with ease, holding it for a second too long before letting go. There was that familiar tension between you again, the unspoken something that crackled in the air whenever the two of you were close. He probably didn't mean to linger, but you could feel it—that pull.

"Maybe it’s the company," you teased, grabbing your laundry basket. "You bring out the best in me."

Logan didn’t respond immediately, but there was something in his eyes, something that made your breath hitch. He was quiet, but not in the usual way bodyguards were. With Logan, there was a weight to his silence, like he was always holding back, always watching.

You pushed past the lingering tension with a grin, heading toward the door with your laundry. "Come on, broody. Let’s get out of the laundry room before we both go stir-crazy."

As you passed by, you brushed against him—just lightly, but enough to send a small jolt through you. He didn’t move, but his eyes followed your every step, that silent intensity never wavering.

You stopped in the hallway and shot him a look over your shoulder. “You’re making this way too serious, you know. I’m doing laundry, not sneaking out of prison.”

“Old habits die hard,” he replied, crossing his arms with a slight smirk. “Besides, I think your dad’s idea of ‘safe’ is pretty different from yours.”

You rolled your eyes, hugging the laundry basket closer. “Right. Next, he’ll say I need an escort to the mailbox.”

Logan raised a brow, clearly amused. “You wouldn’t be the first.”

That earned him a laugh, and you shook your head, settling the basket on the table in the hall. “Guess you’re stuck with me then, bodyguard.”

“Doesn’t seem so bad,” he said, his voice softening as he glanced at you. His gaze was familiar in a way you couldn’t place, like he’d looked at you this way a hundred times before.

“Yeah?” You took a step closer, crossing your arms with a playful grin. “And here I thought I’d be driving you crazy.”

“You do,” he murmured, almost too quietly. His lips turned up slightly, but he looked away, that unspoken wall going back up.

“Good,” you teased, reaching out to poke him in the chest. “Keeps things interesting.”

Logan caught your hand before you could pull it back, holding it just long enough that you could feel the warmth of his touch, the quiet strength in it. There was something in his eyes that hinted at… more. Like he’d known you far longer than you could’ve ever guessed.

“Is that what you want?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart thumped, but you kept your tone light. “Depends on what you’re offering, doesn’t it?”

His gaze dropped to your hand, still caught in his. He let go, but there was something in his expression that lingered. It was like he was searching for the right words, something he couldn’t quite say. Or maybe didn’t want to.

Instead, he settled back with that guarded look. “Better get used to me being around,” he said, nodding toward the front of the house. “Your dad won’t have it any other way.”

You glanced down the hall and shrugged. “Guess I can live with that. For now.”

Logan’s lips twitched, just barely. “For now,” he echoed, and there was something heavier in those words, something he wasn’t sharing.

You lingered for a moment, the silence stretching between you, before you picked up the basket again. “Well, I’ve got more laundry to fold. But if you feel like helping out…”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Nice try, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, shooting him a wink. “Fine. I’ll let you off easy this time.”

“Appreciate it,” he said with a smirk, but his eyes softened as he watched you turn to go, like he was holding back something he couldn’t quite name.

As you walked away, the light-heartedness of the moment stayed with you, but so did something else. It was that look Logan had, the one that made you feel seen, like he knew you better than anyone else ever had.

Maybe he did.

Or maybe, in some impossible way, he always had.

---

“No, no, no, cara. Give it to me.” Nancy took the mixing bowl away from you, stirring the batter while muttering something in Italian.

You leaned your hip against the counter, placing your head on Nancy’s shoulder with a pout. "I was doing what you’re doing.”

Nancy shook her head, stirring the batter with a practiced hand, her warm, familiar presence comforting. “No, cara mia, you were doing what you think I’m doing.” She shot you a look, one of those fond, chiding glances she’d perfected over the years. “And it was not the same.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Fine, but you’re teaching me bad habits. This is how I stay spoiled, you know.”

She chuckled, patting your cheek affectionately. “You think you need me to be spoiled? You do just fine on your own.”

Before you could respond, Logan’s familiar silhouette appeared in the doorway. He leaned against the frame, watching you with a slight smirk that was becoming all too familiar—and endearing.

“Careful, Nancy,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “She’s already hard enough to handle.”

You turned, hands on your hips, feigning offense. “Excuse me, hard to handle?”

Logan shrugged, crossing his arms with a smirk. “You said it, not me.”

Nancy chuckled, eyes sparkling as she looked between you and Logan. “Ah, Y/N, he’s right. You do have a little spirit.”

You scoffed playfully, giving Logan an exaggerated glare before grinning back at Nancy. “What? I’m an angel, and you know it.”

Logan snorted, clearly enjoying himself. “Right. A real saint.” He gave you a knowing look, one that made your stomach flip despite yourself. That unspoken energy simmered between you two, even as you tried to keep it casual.

Nancy just shook her head, muttering something in Italian as she set the bowl down. “Angels don’t cause so much trouble,” she teased, pinching your cheek. “I taught you better.”

You rubbed your cheek with a grin, leaning back against the counter. “I’m blaming Logan. His bad influence must be rubbing off on me.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “That right? Thought you didn’t need any help there.”

“Oh, I don’t,” you said, crossing your arms with a challenging look. “I’m fully capable of trouble on my own.”

Nancy watched the two of you with a satisfied smile, turning back to her baking. “Ah, I see,” she murmured, her voice light. “It’s good to have someone who knows how to keep you in check.”

The glint in her eye wasn’t lost on you, and you rolled your eyes. “You’re making it sound like I’m some kind of wild child.”

“No, no,” she replied with a grin, waving her hand. “Just that I think he knows you better than you think, cara.”

Logan’s gaze softened a little at that, and though he didn’t say anything, his look lingered, as if he were silently agreeing with her.

You cleared your throat, feeling the familiar warmth creeping up your neck. “Well,” you started, trying to brush off the moment, “if Logan’s going to stick around, he might as well help.”

Nancy gave a sly smile, turning to Logan. “What do you say, Logan? A little kitchen work wouldn’t hurt.”

Logan shook his head, holding his hands up in surrender. “You two are doing just fine without me.”

You shot him a grin, taking a step closer. “Oh, come on. Big, tough Logan afraid of a little flour?”

His smirk softened as he looked down at you. “You keep pushing, and I might just teach you a lesson in troublemaking.”

Your stomach fluttered at the way his gaze stayed locked on yours, that familiar pull tugging you closer. “Is that a threat?”

“Call it… a warning,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. His hand brushed against yours, just for a second, but it was enough to send a spark up your arm.

Nancy cleared her throat, clearly amused. “Okay, okay. I don’t need you two making a mess of my kitchen.”

You stepped back, giving Nancy a sheepish smile, and Logan chuckled, the sound low and easy. “She’s right,” he said, nodding toward the door. “Guess I’ll just keep an eye on you from a safe distance.”

Nancy gave him a knowing look, shaking her head with a chuckle. “If only it were that simple.”

---

“Ah, stay still, cara.” Nancy chided you, taking out a roller from your hair.

You gave Nancy a pout, eyes skimming your reflection in the mirror with clear discontent. "I don’t like it." Your voice held more weight than just the hair and makeup, though, and Nancy seemed to pick up on it.

She clicked her tongue, smoothing out a curl before looking at you through the mirror. “Ah, cara mia, tonight is important to your father. Besides,” she added, eyes glinting, “you look beautiful, yes?”

You gave her a half-hearted smile, brushing your hands over the bright yellow fabric of your dress. The dress was elegant and too formal for your taste, the kind of thing you’d never have chosen if it weren’t for your dad’s insistence on making you ‘presentable’ for his associates.

Nancy sighed, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Y/N, it’s one night. Then you’ll be back to your regular clothes, hmm?”

You grinned, rolling your eyes. “Can’t come soon enough.”

Just as you were about to add more, there was a quiet knock at the door. You looked up, already expecting Logan’s familiar silhouette. He leaned against the frame, hands in his pockets, his usual air of calm doing little to hide the intense look in his eyes as he took in the sight of you in the dress.

“Looks like they’ve got you all dolled up,” he remarked, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

You shot him a look, half annoyed, half amused. “Yeah, laugh it up, tough guy. Bet you’re glad it’s not you in this thing.”

Logan chuckled, stepping further into the room. “You could say that.” His eyes met yours, and for a brief second, there was something in his gaze, something you couldn’t quite put into words. But just as quickly, he looked away.

Nancy gave you a knowing smile, patting your shoulder before stepping back. “Logan,” she said, with a gentle warning in her voice, “take care of her tonight, yes?”

Logan’s expression softened, his gaze turning protective as he looked at you. “Always do.”

Nancy winked, then left the room, leaving you alone with him.

You let out a sigh, reaching for the hem of your dress as if you could somehow make it less constricting. “Do I really have to go down there?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You think your dad’s throwing this party for fun? Whole point is for you to be seen.”

“Great,” you muttered, moving toward the door. But as you passed him, Logan placed a hand on your shoulder, stopping you.

“You’ll be fine,” he said, his voice lower, more reassuring. “They’re not expecting anything from you. Just show up, smile, let them know you exist.”

You looked up at him, searching his face. He was steady, calm, his expression soft in a way he rarely let others see. You didn’t know why, but having him there made you feel a little more at ease. “Guess I don’t have much choice, do I?”

“Nope,” he replied, his mouth twitching into that almost-smile.

With a resigned sigh, you squared your shoulders. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

---

The party was everything you’d dreaded: formal, suffocating, and filled with people whose only interest in you was as your father’s daughter. You’d stuck close to Logan most of the night, exchanging quiet remarks whenever the chance arose, his presence the only thing keeping you from losing your mind. But as the night wore on, a few glasses of champagne and the tension of the evening started to wear on you.

You tugged on Logan’s sleeve as you leaned in close. “Think anyone would notice if I snuck out?” you murmured, your breath warm against his ear.

Logan chuckled low, his gaze flickering over you. “Considering your dad’s been watching you like a hawk? Probably.”

You rolled your eyes, letting your hand brush his arm. “Figures. He can’t just let me have one night off.” You shifted closer, feeling his warmth through his jacket, and gave him a mischievous smile. “Bet you didn’t sign up for babysitting duty.”

“Didn’t realize you’d need it,” he replied with a smirk, his voice barely loud enough for you to hear.

You nudged him playfully, letting your hand linger on his arm. “I don’t,” you said, a little more insistently. “You just don’t know what to do with me.”

His eyes met yours, and there was something dark and unspoken in his gaze. “Careful,” he murmured, his voice dropping. “I might take you up on that.”

The hint of challenge in his tone sent a thrill through you, and you leaned closer, your hand settling on his chest as you whispered, “Oh, I’m counting on it.”

You could feel his heartbeat, steady beneath your hand, but his expression gave nothing away. He looked down at you, his jaw tight, but his eyes held that familiar intensity, the kind that had always made you wonder just how long he’d been watching you. It was intoxicating, that pull between you, and tonight, with the champagne loosening your guard, you felt bolder than usual.

When you finally pulled away, you could feel his gaze following you, but you didn’t let yourself look back. Instead, you mingled through the crowd, smiling politely, pretending to listen to conversations while stealing glances at Logan across the room.

After what felt like hours, your father’s attention finally shifted, and you took the chance to slip away to your bedroom.

As you walked up the stairs, Logan trailed behind you, like always. You were tired of this, of the flirting, how he did it back to you, but how nothing ever happened.

Well tonight you were done with that.

You opened your bedroom door and sat on the bed, quickly slipping off your heels and tossing them carelessly across the room. The muffled sounds of laughter and clinking glasses filtered up from downstairs, where the party raged on. Logan stood in the doorway, as he always did, watching you in that silent, intense way that had been driving you crazy for months.

You looked up at him, your fingers playing with the hem of your short yellow dress, the fabric brushing against your thighs as you shifted on the bed. “You comin’ in, or are you just gonna stand there all night?”

Logan didn’t respond right away, his jaw ticking as his eyes flicked over you, taking in the sight of you sitting there, legs crossed, your dress riding up just enough to tease. He sighed, stepping into the room but staying near the door. “Your old man’s got half the city downstairs, Y/N. This ain’t the time.”

You raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at your lips. “Since when do you care about my dad? He’s not your boss.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, the leather of his jacket creaking. “He pays me to keep you safe, not… this.”

You stood up from the bed, taking a step toward him. “This?” you repeated, voice playful, but you could feel the tension in the air thickening. “And what is ‘this,’ Logan?”

He didn’t answer, just stood there, his eyes dark and unreadable, but you could see the way his body tensed when you got closer, the way his gaze flicked down to your legs before snapping back up to your face.

You reached out, your fingers brushing against the rough material of his flannel, and you could feel the heat of his body through the layers of fabric. He stiffened, his hand catching your wrist, but it wasn’t harsh. Just enough to stop you.

“Y/N, don’t,” he warned, his voice low, rough.

You tilted your head, stepping even closer until your body was almost pressed against his. “Why not?” you asked softly. “You’ve been following me around for months. Always there, always watching. What are you so afraid of?”

“I’m not afraid,” he muttered, but his grip on your wrist tightened just a little, like he was holding himself back. “You’re too young for this. I work for your dad.”

You pulled your wrist free, undeterred, your hand now resting against his chest. “I’m not a kid, Logan. And you don’t work for him—you work for me. You’ve been protecting me, haven’t you?”

His eyes narrowed. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

“Then what do you mean?” you shot back, moving even closer, your fingers trailing up to his shoulder, over the leather of his jacket. “You’ve been pulling away from me every time I get close, but you keep coming back.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his hands hovering near your waist, as if he was afraid to touch you. “You’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk,” you said firmly, your voice steady. “And you know that.” You pressed a little harder, your lips just inches from his jaw, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his skin. “You don’t have to keep pretending like you don’t want this.”

His hands shot up to your shoulders, gripping you tightly, but he didn’t push you away this time. His breathing was heavier now, the muscles in his arms tensing as if he was fighting against himself. “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he growled, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe not,” you admitted, your lips brushing the stubble on his jaw as you spoke. “But I know what I want.”

Logan groaned low in his throat, his fingers tightening on your shoulders, but still, he didn’t push you away. His resistance was crumbling, you could feel it.

“You’re not a kid,” he repeated quietly, almost like he was trying to convince himself.

“No,” you whispered back, your lips ghosting along the side of his neck, your hands moving to his chest, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. “I’m not.”

In a swift movement, you pushed him back toward the chair in the corner of the room, his legs hitting the edge as you guided him down. He sat heavily, his hands falling from your shoulders to your hips, still trying to hold onto that last bit of control.

You straddled his thigh, your dress riding up as you settled against him, the heat of your body pressed against the denim of his jeans. His hands moved up to your waist, holding you in place, but the look in his eyes told you he was barely holding on.

“Y/N,” he rasped, but his voice was shaky, uncertain.

You didn’t give him time to think. You started moving, rocking your hips against his thigh, slow at first, testing. His grip on your waist tightened, his eyes darkening as he watched you, the tension in his body radiating through his hands.

He wasn’t stopping you.

You bit your lip, your breath hitching as you pressed harder against him, the friction sending a jolt of heat through you. Logan groaned, his hands sliding down to your hips, holding you steady as you moved. His control was slipping, and you could feel it.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, his head falling back against the chair, his eyes squeezed shut.

You leaned forward, your lips brushing his ear. “Still think I’m too young?”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his hands gripping you harder as you rocked against him, the rough fabric of his jeans rubbing against the thin material of your underwear. Every movement sent sparks of pleasure through you, and you could tell from the way his breathing quickened that he was feeling it too.

His hands slid up your sides, fingers digging into your skin as he tried to pull you closer, but you were in control now. You pressed your lips to his neck, kissing the exposed skin, feeling the tension in his body as you kissed down toward his collarbone, your fingers tangling in his shirt.

Logan groaned, his hands gripping you tighter as you moved faster, grinding against his thigh with more urgency. The heat between your legs was almost unbearable now, the pressure building with every movement, every gasp that escaped your lips.

Logan's eyes were shut tight, head thrown back against the chair, his hands gripping your waist like he was the one trying to stay grounded. But you weren’t stopping, not after all the months of back-and-forth, all the moments you’d caught him watching you with that dark, unreadable look. The friction, the heat pooling between your legs, was everything you’d been waiting for, and it was clear from the roughness of his breathing that he wasn’t far behind.

You pressed harder, your hips rolling against his thigh as you gripped his shoulders to steady yourself. The thin fabric of your dress had ridden up, and you knew he could feel just how soaked you were through the denim of his jeans. His hands were at your waist, digging into your skin in a way that bordered on painful but only made you push down harder, rocking your hips with more insistence.

Logan’s voice was rough when he finally spoke, his hands tightening as if he was trying to keep himself from pulling you in closer. “Y/N… you’re playin’ with fire here,” he growled, the words thick, like he was barely holding back.

You ignored him, pressing a little harder, your lips hovering just over the edge of his jaw as you breathed, “Maybe I like the heat.”

His jaw clenched, but his hands slid up, settling just under your ribs, holding you steady as you moved. Each shift of your hips brought another groan out of him, the sound vibrating through his chest and sending a thrill straight through you. You could feel yourself getting closer, your breath coming in shallow gasps as the pressure built, the heat between your legs almost too much to bear.

“Logan,” you whispered, your hands slipping up to tangle in his hair, pulling his face closer. You could see the restraint etched across his face, the way his jaw was clenched tight, like he was struggling to keep himself from giving in. “I need you.”

His hands tensed on your waist, fingers digging in harder, his breathing growing rougher with every word that slipped from your lips. But he didn’t pull away; if anything, he held you tighter, letting you grind against him, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against you in a way that left you breathless, desperate.

“You know what you’re doin’ to me?” he muttered, his voice barely more than a growl as his eyes met yours, dark and full of something you’d been longing to see for months.

“Maybe,” you replied, a small, breathless smile tugging at your lips as you kept moving, kept pressing closer, feeling the tension between you both thicken until it was almost unbearable. “Maybe I want to see how far you’ll let me go.”

Logan groaned, his grip tightening as his eyes fell shut again, his hands shifting to guide your hips, helping you keep up the steady rhythm that was driving you both closer to the edge. You leaned forward again, your lips brushing against his neck, pressing soft kisses along the exposed skin as you rocked against him, the heat building with every second.

“Y/N,” he rasped, his voice so low it sent a shiver through you. “You’re… you’re so damn—”

You cut him off, pressing your lips to the spot just under his ear, feeling the way his breath hitched as your hips ground down harder. You were close, every nerve ending on fire, and you could feel that he was, too. His hands were everywhere, sliding up your back, pressing you closer, holding you tight like he was afraid to let go.

And then, finally, the pressure broke. You gasped, fingers digging into his shoulders as your hips stilled, your body shuddering against him. Logan’s grip on your waist tightened, his own breath hitching as he held you steady, his hands warm and solid as you rode out the waves of pleasure.

He was quiet for a long moment, his breathing heavy, and you could feel the way his body had tensed beneath you, the strain in his hands as he held himself back. Slowly, you looked up, meeting his gaze, and the intensity in his eyes made your breath catch all over again.

Without a word, Logan shifted, his hands sliding down to hook under your thighs as he stood, lifting you with a strength that sent another thrill through you. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he carried you to the bed, the heat in his gaze leaving no room for second thoughts, no hesitation. This was it, and you were ready.

He laid you down, his hands lingering on your thighs, his fingers brushing over your skin as he looked down at you, his expression a mix of hunger and restraint. You reached up, tugging him closer until he was hovering over you, his weight pressing down just enough to make you feel secure, safe.

This was what you’d been waiting for, what you’d both been skirting around for too long. Logan’s hands slid up your sides, his fingers trailing along the fabric of your dress, and you felt your breath hitch as his gaze darkened, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

His thumbs brushed the exposed skin just above the low neckline of your dress, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You watched him, eyes locked on his as he leaned in, his jaw tight, the hunger in his gaze barely restrained. The room felt smaller, warmer, like the air had thickened between you.

And then, finally, his mouth was on yours.

The kiss was desperate, wild, like he was making up for lost time. His lips claimed yours with a roughness that sent a shiver down your spine, his hands moving to cradle your face, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t stand the distance. You gasped against his mouth, your fingers finding their way into his hair, tugging him down harder.

It had been seventy-three years since he’d last kissed you—nearly three quarters of a century of holding back—and the intensity of it showed. It was all-consuming, like he was trying to make up for every second he’d denied himself this.

Logan groaned into your mouth, a deep, almost pained sound, and the desperation in it made your blood race. He kissed you like he was starving, like he needed this, needed you, and you felt your body melt into him. His hands slid down your body, rough and sure, stopping at your hips to pull you flush against him. The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, and the friction of his jeans against your thighs only made it worse.

You broke the kiss for air, your breaths coming fast, but Logan didn’t stop. His mouth found your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the curve of your throat, teeth scraping against your skin just enough to make you gasp. His hands were everywhere, tracing the curve of your waist, the swell of your hips, gripping you with a possessiveness that sent a thrill through you.

“Logan,” you whispered, your voice breathless, needy. You tilted your head back, giving him better access as his lips continued their descent, leaving a path of fire along your skin. Your hands fisted in his flannel, pulling him closer, and he groaned again, the sound vibrating through your body.

“God, Y/N,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire, like he was barely holding on. His hands slipped under your dress, fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your thighs, and you shivered, your breath catching in your throat. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes heavy-lidded, pupils blown wide with need. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he muttered, but the words were laced with something softer, something that made your heart skip.

You didn’t reply, just pulled him down for another kiss, this one just as desperate as the first. Your hands roamed over his chest, slipping beneath the open flannel to feel the heat of his skin, the hard muscles that tensed under your touch. Logan shivered, his breath catching as your fingers brushed against his bare chest, and you felt a rush of satisfaction at the way he reacted to you.

His jacket slipped from his shoulders, landing somewhere on the floor, but neither of you paid it any mind. Your hands were already pushing the flannel off him, revealing more of his skin, and Logan helped you, shrugging it off with a growl of impatience. The white beater he wore beneath clung to his chest, and you could see the way his muscles flexed beneath it, the way the fabric stretched taut over his shoulders.

He leaned back down, capturing your lips in another searing kiss, and you moaned into his mouth, your nails digging into his shoulders. Logan’s hands were back under your dress, sliding up, leaving trails of heat in their wake. His touch was rough, calloused, but so incredibly gentle in a way that made your heart ache. You arched into him, your body pressing closer, desperate for more, for everything he was willing to give.

“Fuck,” he muttered against your mouth, his hands sliding higher until his thumbs brushed the edge of your panties. He paused, breathing heavily, his eyes searching yours, looking for any sign of hesitation. But there was none. You were all in, had been from the moment you’d first seen him.

You reached down, grabbing his wrists and guiding his hands further up, silently urging him on. Logan’s breath hitched, and his eyes darkened even more, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, and you could feel your heart pounding as he tugged, the thin fabric slipping down your legs.

"Fuck, Y/N," he growled, his voice thick with need as his calloused hands slid back up your thighs, pushing your dress higher. "You're so damn wet already."

You gasped as his fingers brushed against your center, your hips jerking up instinctively. "Logan, please," you whimpered, reaching for him.

He leaned down to kiss you hard, his tongue pushing into your mouth as his fingers began exploring you properly. The roughness of his hands contrasted with how gently he touched you, like he was afraid of breaking you. You moaned into his mouth as he slid one thick finger inside, your hands gripping his shoulders.

"That's it, darlin'," he murmured against your lips. "Let me hear you."

Your dress was bunched around your waist now as Logan worked another finger into you, stretching you carefully. Your earlier orgasm had left you sensitive, making every touch feel electric. His thumb found your clit and began rubbing slow circles that had you writhing beneath him.

"Logan," you gasped, your nails digging into his skin through his beater. "I need—ah!—I need more."

He growled low in his throat, curling his fingers inside you. "Tell me what you need, Y/N. Say it."

Your face flushed but you met his eyes. "I need you inside me. Please, Logan. I've wanted this for so long."

Something dark and possessive flashed in his eyes. He withdrew his fingers, making you whimper at the loss, and reached down to undo his belt. The metal clinked as he pulled it free, the sound sending a thrill through you.

You sat up enough to pull your dress over your head, leaving you in just your bra. Logan's eyes raked over you hungrily as he pushed his jeans down his hips. The obvious bulge in his boxers made your mouth go dry.

"Come here," he growled, pulling you into another searing kiss as his hands found the clasp of your bra. It took him only seconds to undo it, and then you were bare before him, your nipples hardening in the cool air.

Logan's mouth moved to your neck, sucking hard enough to leave marks as his hands cupped your breasts. You moaned as he rolled your nipples between his fingers, your back arching into his touch.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he muttered against your skin, his voice rough. He shifted to take one nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak as you gasped and squirmed beneath him.

Your hands found the hem of his beater, tugging insistently until he pulled back long enough to yank it off. The sight of his bare chest, all hard muscle and dark hair, made heat pool between your legs. There were old scars scattered across his skin - remnants of wounds time hadn't quite erased.

You reached for his boxers but he caught your wrists, pinning them above your head with one large hand. "Not yet," he growled, his free hand sliding down between your legs again. "Want to make sure you're ready for me."

His fingers found your clit again and you cried out, oversensitive and desperate. "Logan, please," you begged, trying to buck your hips up against his hand. "I'm ready, I swear. I need you now."

He studied your face for a long moment, his eyes dark with desire, before releasing your wrists. "Take them off," he ordered, nodding to his boxers.

Your hands shook slightly as you pushed the fabric down his hips, freeing his cock. He was huge, thick and hard, already leaking at the tip. You wrapped your hand around him, stroking slowly, and Logan's breath hitched.

"Careful, darlin'," he warned, his voice strained. "Been wanting this too long to end it early."

He pushed you back onto the bed, settling between your spread thighs. The head of his cock brushed against your entrance and you both groaned. Logan braced himself on his forearms above you, his eyes locked on yours.

"You sure about this?" he asked, his voice rough but gentle. "Once I start, I don't know if I'll be able to stop."

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "I'm sure. Please, Logan. I want you."

He kissed you hard as he began pushing inside, swallowing your gasps as he stretched you open. The burn was intense but perfect, your body gradually adjusting to his size. Logan moved slowly, giving you time to adapt, but you could feel the tension in his muscles as he held himself back.

"Fuck," he groaned when he was finally fully seated inside you. "So tight, darlin'. Feel so good around me."

You clutched at his shoulders, panting. "Move," you urged. "Please, I need—"

Logan pulled back and thrust forward again, setting a steady rhythm that had you seeing stars. Each stroke hit something deep inside you that made pleasure spark through your whole body. His hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he fucked into you with increasing force.

"That's it," he growled, watching your face contort with pleasure. "Take it, Y/N. Take all of me."

Your nails raked down his back as the pressure built inside you again. Logan's thrusts grew harder, faster, driving you both toward the edge. The headboard banged against the wall with each movement but neither of you cared about the noise.

"Logan," you gasped, feeling yourself getting close. "I'm gonna—ah!"

"Come for me," he ordered, his voice rough. One hand slid between your bodies to rub your clit. "Want to feel you come on my cock."

The added stimulation pushed you over the edge. You came with a cry, your body clenching around him as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Logan growled, his rhythm faltering as your walls pulsed around him.

"Fuck, Y/N," he groaned, his thrusts growing erratic. "Where do you want—"

"Inside," you gasped, still riding the aftershocks. "Please, Logan. Wanna feel you."

He cursed, his hips snapping forward a few more times before he buried himself deep with a growl, spilling inside you. You could feel him pulsing, filling you up as he collapsed onto his forearms above you.

For several long moments, the only sound was your heavy breathing. Logan's forehead rested against yours, his eyes closed as he caught his breath. You ran your hands up and down his back, feeling the sweat-slick skin under your palms.

Finally, he pulled out carefully and rolled onto his side, pulling you with him. You winced slightly at the soreness between your legs, but it was a good kind of ache. Logan's arms wrapped around you, holding you close against his chest.

---

Logan let out a low groan as he woke, the bed beneath him feeling far too comfortable, unfamiliar in a way that immediately set him on edge. It took a second for his mind to catch up, piecing together where he was and, more importantly, who he was with.

He didn’t need to look over to feel the warmth beside him, or the way your hair fanned out across the pillow. It hit him all at once—the heat of your skin against his, the way you’d leaned into him last night, confident, unrestrained. He opened his eyes, gaze finding you lying beside him, face soft and peaceful in sleep, an arm draped over his chest as if you’d claimed him in the night.

Logan sighed, glancing at the ceiling, but couldn’t help looking down at you again, still asleep and blissfully unaware of the storm in his head. He’d known it was a bad idea from the start, coming upstairs with you last night, letting his guard down. But damn, when you’d gotten close, pushing him toward that chair with that look in your eyes—he’d been gone the second you’d touched him.

He was even further gone when he had finally kissed you—it was one of his biggest regrets the last time he had seen you back in 1943—he never held you the way he wanted to. Too afraid that maybe he was the problem, the reason you kept on dying over and over.

And because of that, he hadn’t been this close to you since 1900.

It was strange, being here like this—letting his guard down after all those lives, all those memories of watching you fade out of his reach. A part of him had always tried to keep a distance, to save himself from the heartbreak he knew was coming. But last night… last night, he’d been weak.

He brushed a thumb over your arm without thinking, lost in thought. It was impossible not to wonder, with you lying beside him like this, what it would be like if this time were different. If, just once, he could hold onto you, let himself believe you’d stay.

But he knew better.

His hand lingered on your skin a moment too long, and he felt you stir, your lashes fluttering as you slowly opened your eyes. A soft smile touched your lips when you saw him, and he felt his resolve crack just a little more.

“Mornin’,” he murmured, his voice rougher than he’d meant.

“Mmm,” you hummed, still sleepy, your fingers tracing a lazy pattern over his chest. “Didn’t think you’d still be here.” You said it lightly, but there was a hint of something else there—relief, maybe. “Guess I finally wore you out.”

Logan huffed, his lips tugging into a smirk. “Guess so.”

You shifted to look at him, your eyes bright with that familiar mischief. “So, what’s your excuse this time?”

He raised a brow. “Excuse?”

“Yeah. For pulling away,” you said, your tone casual but pointed. “You’ve always got one.”

Logan’s jaw clenched slightly, and he broke eye contact, looking away. “It’s complicated, Y/N.”

You reached up, cupping his face and guiding his gaze back to you. “That’s what you always say. Doesn’t mean it has to be.”

He was silent for a moment, searching your face. He could feel the weight of his past with you, all those memories stacking up like a dam holding back a flood. But he couldn’t let you in on that. Couldn’t make you carry the burden of knowing you’d lived—and died—so many times before. It was his cross to bear, not yours.

“Maybe I just don’t want you getting hurt,” he finally said, his voice quieter, a touch raw.

You let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Please, Logan. You think I don’t know what I’m doing?”

Logan just shook his head, but he couldn’t help the small, amused smile that crept onto his face. “You’re a handful, you know that?”

“I’ve heard that once or twice,” you teased, running your hand along his chest. “Lucky for you, I don’t scare easy.”

That hint of defiance in your voice tugged at something deep inside him, and he caught your hand, holding it in his as he looked into your eyes. “You say that now. But I’ve got a way of… complicating things.”

Your gaze softened, but there was still a spark there, unyielding. “Good thing I like complicated.”

Logan’s eyes darkened, and for a second, he felt that familiar pull, the urge to tell you everything—to let you in on the truth of why he was here, why he couldn’t stay away. But he stopped himself, the weight of all those lost lifetimes bearing down on him again. He couldn’t do that to you, not this time.

“Then I guess I’m stuck with you,” he said, trying to keep his tone light, even though his grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly.

“Guess so,” you replied with a grin, shifting closer. You tilted your head, eyes narrowing as you studied him. “Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you ever gonna stop acting like you’re some kind of curse?” Your voice was soft but firm, like you were daring him to argue.

Logan went silent, his gaze flickering away from yours. You’d hit closer to the truth than you knew.

“Don’t know if I can,” he admitted after a pause. “It’s… complicated.” He shrugged, hoping you’d leave it at that.

But, of course, you didn’t. “Then I guess I’ll just have to keep proving you wrong,” you murmured, pressing a light kiss to his jaw, a warm reassurance that only made him feel the pull of his past even stronger.

He didn’t answer, just closed his eyes, letting himself savor this one small, stolen moment with you. Just this once, he’d allow himself that. Because deep down, he knew he’d always lose you in the end.

And this time, he was determined to make it last as long as he could. Maybe, just maybe, even put that ring to use.

---

You were back at the dog shelter, this time staying a little bit longer since one of the workers, Amelia, was out sick.

Lorraine handed you a few leashes, “mind taking some of ‘em out for a walk?”

You happily grabbed the roped leashes, “of course.” Then you glanced over at Logan, who had been eyeing the dogs with a mix of amusement and reservation. “You up for walkin’ some too?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, then at the leashes in your hand, but there was a hint of a smirk playing at his lips. “Didn’t take you for a dog wrangler, Y/N.”

You laughed, clipping one of the leashes onto a small brown mutt who was practically bouncing with excitement. “Come on, Logan. What’re you afraid of? They don’t bite—well, not all of them, anyway.”

Logan chuckled, reluctantly stepping forward. “Right. Long as they don’t try to drag me down the street.”

You handed him a leash attached to a shaggy, medium-sized dog with big brown eyes, looking up at him expectantly. “Here. This one’s named Ringo. He’s a sweetheart.”

Logan eyed the dog suspiciously before giving the leash a little tug, testing the waters. “Ringo, huh?” He knelt down and patted the dog’s head, a faint smile crossing his face as the dog leaned into his touch. “Guess you’re alright.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight. “See? He likes you already.” As you finished leashing up a few more of the dogs, you handed the leashes to Logan. “Think you can handle these guys too?”

Logan took the leashes without complaint, looking down at the little group of dogs at his feet. “Guess I don’t have much choice.”

“Good answer,” you teased, giving him a wink before heading toward the door. You led the way outside, the two of you walking side-by-side with the dogs trotting happily along. It was a warm day, and the sun was shining down, casting a soft glow over everything.

Logan glanced over at you as you moved down the sidewalk together, the dogs tugging excitedly at their leashes. You had a carefree smile on your face, and he found himself watching you more than the path ahead, the memory of a few nights ago still vivid in his mind. The thought of it sent a thrill through him—yet at the same time, a pang of dread.

“You always this happy walking dogs, or is it just ‘cause I’m here?” he teased, a little smirk tugging at his lips.

You shot him a playful look. “Guess you’ll never know.” You nudged him lightly with your shoulder, eyes bright with mischief. “But if you keep coming with me, you might find out.”

He let out a small laugh, his gaze softening as he looked away. Even after all these years, you could still surprise him—like the way you’d drag him to places like this or the way you talked about the little things with such enthusiasm. It was one of those qualities he remembered about you from lifetimes ago, and it hadn’t changed. It made him feel like maybe, somehow, this was different.

As you walked a little further, one of the dogs—a scruffy little terrier—yipped and tugged at Logan’s leash, trying to chase after a pigeon. He grunted, holding the leash tightly and muttering, “Settle down, mutt. You’re not goin’ anywhere.”

You laughed, glancing over with an amused smile. “Ringo’s got more energy than you’d think, huh?”

Logan shook his head, but he couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, well, maybe I should be takin’ notes from him.” He looked at you then, and his expression softened. “You’ve really got a thing for these dogs, don’t ya?”

Your smile faded into something more thoughtful as you looked down at the furry pack in front of you. “I dunno. I guess they’re just… easy to be around. They don’t care about who my father is or what I do—they just want someone to be with them, you know?”

Logan nodded, watching the way you interacted with the dogs, your fingers lightly brushing over their heads, your voice soft as you spoke to them. You’d always had that kindness about you, that gentleness that made him want to believe in something better, something… safe.

“You’re good with ‘em,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

You looked up at him, a smile in your eyes. “You know, you’re not so bad with them either, Logan.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, I think I’ll leave the dog-wranglin’ to you.”

For a while, you walked in comfortable silence, the bustling city around you fading into the background as you wandered through the neighborhood with the dogs. Finally, you reached a small park, and you stopped to let the dogs sniff around.

As they explored, you took a seat on a nearby bench, patting the spot beside you. Logan hesitated for a second before joining you, stretching his legs out in front of him.

You looked over at him, your expression soft. “Thanks for coming today. I know this probably isn’t your ideal way to spend an afternoon.”

Logan shrugged, trying to act casual, but he couldn’t hide the warmth in his gaze. “Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna be,” he said, his voice low.

The sincerity in his words made your heart skip a beat, and you looked away, feeling a little bashful. You fiddled with one of the leashes, clearing your throat. “You know… the more time we spend together, the more I wonder how long you’re planning to stick around.”

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as he considered his answer. He wanted to tell you the truth—that he’d been watching you, waiting for you, for so many lifetimes. But he couldn’t. Instead, he reached out, his hand covering yours where it rested on the bench.

“As long as you’ll have me,” he said quietly.

The words hung between you, and for a moment, it was like the whole world had faded away. You looked up at him, your eyes searching his, trying to read the depths of his expression.

A soft smile touched your lips, and you squeezed his hand. “Then you’re gonna be around for a long time, Logan.”

He felt a strange, hopeful ache in his chest at your words, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, this time, things could be different.

The dogs barked, breaking the spell, and you both laughed, pulling away as you got up to wrangle them again. But even as you continued on your walk, he stayed close by your side, his hand occasionally brushing yours as you walked—almost as if he was reminding himself that you were real, that you were here with him.

---

Late one night, you lay beside Logan in the dim light filtering through the window, the city’s night sounds a steady hum in the distance. Your head rested on his chest, your fingers tracing lazy circles over the skin above his heart, feeling the steady beat beneath your touch.

Logan shifted slightly, his hand coming up to rest gently on your back. For a long time, he just lay there, watching you in silence, his thumb brushing along your spine. You could tell he was relaxed, but there was something else—a quiet intensity in the way his gaze lingered on you, a heaviness in the air that made your heart race.

“What’re you thinkin’ about?” you murmured, letting your fingers trail up to his collarbone. You glanced up at him, catching the faintest hint of a smile as he met your eyes.

“Just… wonderin’ how I got roped into all this,” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting. But the glint in his eyes gave him away, and you saw something softer there.

“Yeah? Doesn’t seem like you mind too much.” You smirked, giving his chest a light pat. “I’d almost say you’re gettin’ attached.”

He snorted, pulling you a little closer, his arm tightening around you. “Could say the same for you,” he replied, his voice low, almost teasing. “You’re insatiable, y’know that?”

You laughed, and the sound was soft in the quiet room. “You’re the one who keeps showin’ up, Logan. If you wanted me to behave, you’d stay away.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Maybe I don’t want you to behave.”

Your fingers stilled on his chest, and you looked up at him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “So you like me like this, then? A little reckless… a little spoiled?” you teased.

He chuckled, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Yeah,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “Think I do.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, and you settled back against his chest, letting your hand rest over his heart. For a while, neither of you said anything, the silence comfortable, his warmth grounding you. It was a rare kind of peace—one that you’d come to cherish whenever you were with him.

But then, curiosity got the better of you, and you lifted your head, giving him a thoughtful look. “Logan,” you began, your voice hesitant. “How long are you gonna stick around? I mean… I know my dad thinks you’re just here for protection, but… it feels like more than that.”

Logan’s gaze darkened, a flash of something unreadable passing over his face. He glanced away, his jaw tensing as he seemed to search for the right words. “As long as you want me here, I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

The weight of his words hung between you, and you felt your heart skip a beat. “Then don’t,” you whispered, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “I don’t want you to.”

He didn’t say anything in response, but his hand slipped up to cup the back of your head, pulling you down into a slow, lingering kiss. There was something different about it this time, a quiet desperation that made your pulse quicken, like he was trying to hold on to this moment, to keep it from slipping away.

When you finally pulled back, you searched his eyes, wondering what was going through his mind. “You’re not gonna let me go, are you?”

A small smile tugged at his lips, though his gaze was still shadowed. “Not a chance, darlin’.”

You felt a surge of affection for him then, this man who’d somehow become both your protector and your closest confidant. He was rough around the edges, guarded and distant with everyone else—but with you, he was different. You brought out a softness in him, a warmth that felt as though it had been buried for a long, long time.

Without thinking, you reached up and brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, your fingertips lingering against his skin. “You know, for a guy who’s supposed to be my bodyguard, you’re doing a terrible job at keeping things professional,” you teased, though there was no bite in your words.

Logan let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “You’re the one makin’ things complicated, Y/N.”

“Maybe.” You smirked, your fingers still tracing over his chest. “But you don’t seem to mind.”

He looked at you then, something fierce in his eyes, and for a moment, you saw a glimpse of the man he’d been—a man who’d loved and lost, who’d carried scars from lifetimes past. You wondered if he would ever tell you his story, if he would ever let you in on the secrets he guarded so closely.

But for now, you were content with the silence, with the feel of his heartbeat beneath your hand, with the quiet reassurance that he wasn’t going anywhere.

As the night wore on, you lay there together, wrapped up in each other, the world outside fading away. And for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

---

Your father had asked you to come to his office in the spacious house. At first it was nothing but muffled voices from outside the door, until Logan heard your father speak again, for a longer period of time, causing your own voice to rise.

While Logan couldn’t make out the words you were saying even with his enhanced hearing, he could tell you weren’t happy. Your voice carried that sharp edge you only got when something really struck a nerve, and judging by the way you didn’t hold back, it had to be serious.

Logan lingered just outside the heavy, mahogany door of your father’s office, his fists clenched as he heard your voice rising behind it. It was clear you were upset, and whatever was being discussed inside, you didn’t like it. He’d seen you frustrated, angry even, but never like this—there was a desperation in your tone that sent a chill through him.

Moments later, the door flew open, and you stormed out, cheeks flushed with anger, eyes flashing as you spotted him. You barely paused, brushing past him, but Logan caught your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice low. “What happened?”

You turned to face him, anger and hurt swirling in your eyes. “He’s… he’s marrying me off, Logan. To that family. After everything he promised me—he said he’d never force me into something like this.”

Logan’s expression hardened. “What are you talkin’ about? He can’t just… marry you off like some kind of deal.”

Your hands were shaking as you brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, struggling to keep your composure. “Apparently, he can. There’s been this feud with the Romano family for years, and he says this is the only way to keep the peace. To protect me. Protect us.”

Logan’s jaw clenched. He felt a familiar anger rising in him, a deep, protective instinct he’d been fighting to keep under wraps. “So, he’s just gonna throw you into a marriage you don’t want? You don’t even know this guy, do you?”

You shook your head, looking away. “I met him once. He was… polite enough. But that’s not the point, Logan. I don’t want to marry him—or anyone like this. My father always said he’d let me choose, that he wouldn’t… sell me off.” The bitterness in your tone stung, your gaze distant as if replaying the conversation.

Logan searched your face, feeling an ache he couldn’t put into words. “And he knows how you feel about this?”

You swallowed, nodding. “I told him, but he says I don’t understand the bigger picture, that this is what’s best for everyone.” You gave a hollow laugh, looking down. “For everyone but me.”

He felt a pang of guilt, knowing he was just a bodyguard, technically part of the arrangement meant to keep you safe from any threats. But you were more than just a job to him, and the thought of you being forced into something like this made his blood boil. He let out a rough breath, stepping closer. “Y/N, you don’t have to go along with this. Not if you don’t want to.”

Your gaze softened as you looked up at him. “And what am I supposed to do, Logan? Run off in the middle of the night?” You gave a small, bitter smile. “I don’t even know where I’d go.”

He didn’t hesitate, his voice dropping low. “Then we go together. If you don’t wanna go through with this, we’ll figure somethin’ else out.”

Your breath hitched at his words, and for a moment, the anger and hurt seemed to fade, replaced by something warmer, more uncertain. “You’d really… leave everything?”

He shrugged, almost nonchalant, but there was a fierce determination in his eyes. “I got no reason to stay here if you’re not here, too.”

You hesitated, torn between the depth of his offer and the weight of the decision you knew would follow. Finally, you gave a small nod, as if grounding yourself in the moment. “I don’t know what’s gonna happen, Logan, but… I just need to know you’re here. That I’m not going through this alone.”

He reached out, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, Y/N. You got my word on that.”

There was a silence between you, thick and charged, each of you processing the weight of everything unsaid. His gaze stayed locked on yours, and for a moment, the anger and fear in your eyes softened, replaced by something closer to relief. And then, almost impulsively, you took his hand, squeezing it tight.

“Thank you, Logan. I… I needed to hear that,” you said softly, glancing away before meeting his gaze again, vulnerability written all over your face. “Just… don’t let go, okay?”

He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not a chance, darlin’.”

---

Nancy was doing your hair once again for the dinner with the Romano family. You had tried everything over the past few weeks, trying to convince your father that this didn’t have to happen. That he promised you he would never do this.

But no matter what you did, he was firm in his stance, "you're getting married to Clyde, and that's final."

You sat still, staring at your reflection in the mirror as Nancy pinned up the last of your curls. Your face looked composed, serene even, but beneath it, there was a storm brewing—a knot of anger and dread you couldn’t shake. Every time you thought about that dinner tonight, your stomach twisted. Clyde Romano. A stranger. And yet, your father had decided this was your future, and nothing you said seemed to change his mind.

Nancy, sensing the tension, placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "It’ll be alright, Y/N. You’ll be surrounded by family."

Family. Right. But none of them seemed to understand how trapped you felt. You forced a tight-lipped smile, nodding. "Thanks, Nancy."

As she stepped back, there was a light knock at the door. You turned to see Logan standing there, looking slightly uncomfortable in his formal attire but as steadfast as ever. His gaze softened as he took in your appearance, though he quickly masked it.

"Didn’t mean to interrupt," he said, glancing between you and Nancy. "Just wanted to make sure you’re ready."

Nancy finished adjusting your hair and excused herself, leaving you alone with Logan. You looked at him, searching his face, hoping for some kind of lifeline.

"Logan," you murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I’m being dragged somewhere I can’t escape from."

He stepped closer, his expression darkening as he listened. “You’re not alone in this, Y/N. You know I’m with you, whatever you decide.” His hand reached out, brushing against your arm, his touch grounding you.

You drew in a shaky breath, steadying yourself. “What if I decide to just… disappear?” you asked, half-joking but mostly serious.

Logan’s eyes met yours, and you saw the unspoken resolve there. “Then I’ll be right behind you. Doesn’t matter where.”

For a moment, you let yourself believe it—that you could simply run, with Logan at your side. But reality crashed back in, and you dropped your gaze.

"I wish it were that simple," you whispered, clenching your fists. "But if I leave, it could tear everything apart."

Logan’s hand settled over yours, his grip firm and reassuring. "Then we make it through tonight. And tomorrow, we figure out the rest. You’re not facing this alone, darlin’. Not as long as I’m here."

You looked up at him, finding strength in his gaze. He’d been your rock through all of this, his presence steady and unwavering. And tonight, that was what you needed most.

“Alright,” you murmured, giving him a small, grateful smile. “Let’s go face this… together.”

He nodded, his grip on your hand a silent promise. Whatever came next, you knew he’d be there, just as he always had been. And with that thought, you found the courage to head downstairs to face your family—and the Romanos—one more time.

---

The dinner was at an Italian restaurant, one your father owned as cover for his business. Your dad sat at the head of the table while Clyde’s father sat at the other end. In front of you was your uncle Ermanno, who was also your dad’s consigliere, while Clyde sat next to you.

Logan, along with the other bodyguards, stood watch at the entrance of the private dining room, their silent gazes sweeping the place. He wore his usual hard expression, though his eyes softened just a touch when they found you across the room. He’d been watching you all night—catching every little shift, each moment you looked down or forced a smile, every subtle tightening of your hand on the tablecloth.

Clyde Romano leaned in a little closer, his arm casually brushing against yours as he tried to make small talk. "So, Y/N, I hear you’ve been helping out at a shelter?"

You nodded, barely meeting his eyes. “Yeah, I volunteer with the dogs mostly. It’s…nice to get away from all this sometimes.” You forced a smile, trying to keep things polite. You could feel your father’s gaze on you, watching for any misstep.

Clyde smiled back, but it felt too rehearsed. “Well, once we’re married, you won’t have to worry about shelters or anything like that. You’ll have enough responsibilities as a Romano.”

You felt your stomach twist at his words. Logan’s gaze sharpened from across the room as he picked up on the slight shift in your expression. You shot him a quick look, your eyes pleading for any kind of rescue. Logan’s jaw tightened, and for a brief moment, he almost looked like he’d step in. But he stayed put, his hands clenched behind his back.

Instead, he looked for the smallest opening. Just as Clyde’s attention was pulled away by his father, Logan slipped into view, leaning down beside you. “You alright?” he murmured, low enough that only you could hear.

“Not even close,” you whispered back, your eyes fixed on your glass. “He’s already talking about our future like… like it’s set in stone.”

Logan’s eyes flickered with something fierce. “We’ll get through this, Y/N. Tonight’s just another show. Nothing more.” His fingers brushed the back of your chair, the barely-there touch sending a wave of calm through you.

But Clyde’s voice cut back in before Logan could say anything more. “Y/N, we were thinking of heading to Italy for the honeymoon. It’ll be a good chance to meet the rest of the family there.”

Your heart sank further. Italy. An entire ocean away, away from everything you knew, from everyone who mattered to you. “Italy,” you echoed, your voice strained but steady.

“Yeah. The Romano estates are beautiful—beaches, vineyards… a real paradise.” He seemed oblivious to your hesitation, already dreaming up plans you’d had no say in. Your father looked pleased, nodding his approval from his end of the table.

Logan straightened, but the look he gave you was unmistakable: You don’t have to do this.

You swallowed, shifting in your seat as Clyde rambled on. When his focus shifted to his own father again, you leaned back just enough to whisper to Logan, “I’m not sure I can keep pretending.”

Logan’s expression softened, and for a second, he let a hint of his guard down. “You don’t have to, darlin’.” His voice was low, almost tender, meant for you alone. “Say the word, and we walk outta here. Right now.”

The thought made your heart skip, but your gaze drifted toward your father, seated across the table with a look of satisfaction. Leaving wasn’t just about you; it would mean defying him, challenging the life he’d molded for you. The thought felt like a mountain on your shoulders.

“I can’t just walk away,” you said quietly. “He’s… he’d never forgive me.”

Logan’s hand brushed yours under the table, a quiet show of support. “Maybe he’s the one who should be asking for forgiveness,” he murmured, his thumb tracing a light circle over your knuckles. The warmth of his touch settled something in you, steadying your breath.

You gave a tiny nod, squeezing his hand for just a second before pulling away. Logan straightened, stepping back to his post but still keeping his gaze on you. Clyde was oblivious, caught up in a conversation with his father about future business plans, each word feeling like a nail in the coffin.

Dinner dragged on, a blur of forced laughter and stiff conversation. Every time you felt yourself sinking, you looked toward Logan. He was there, solid and watchful, like a silent promise of something real in a room full of facades.

Eventually, the families began to wind down, talk shifting to more casual chatter. Clyde, emboldened by the night’s success, reached over and took your hand, his grip possessive. “Soon, you’ll be part of the family, Y/N. You’ll see. You’ll come to love it.”

Your mind screamed at the thought, every fiber of you wanting to pull away. But you held still, not daring to make a scene. Logan’s gaze narrowed, his jaw set as he took in the sight of Clyde’s hand around yours.

Finally, as the night came to an end and the families started to stand, Clyde leaned in with a smug smile. “Ready to go? I thought we’d take a walk, just the two of us.”

Before you could answer, Logan was there, stepping in with a casual yet firm presence. “Mr. Romano,” he said, addressing Clyde but looking right at you, “your father asked to speak with you in private before you head out.”

Clyde frowned but nodded, reluctantly releasing your hand. “I’ll be back soon, Y/N.” He disappeared toward the far end of the room, leaving you alone with Logan.

You let out a slow breath, the tension finally loosening from your shoulders. “Thank you,” you whispered, looking up at him, gratitude spilling from every word.

Logan gave a slight nod. “Couldn’t let him drag you out there without a say.” His voice was rough, but his eyes softened as he held your gaze. “You’re not alone in this, Y/N. Whatever happens… you got me.”

The weight of the night lifted just a little, and for a moment, you almost believed you had a choice in all of this.

---

“A week?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper as you stood in your father’s office. The weight of the word seemed to pull you under, even as you fought to keep your voice steady.

Your father’s expression was impassive, arms crossed as he looked at you. “Yes, Y/N. The Romano family wants to move quickly. They think it’s best, and I agree. It’s time you take on this responsibility for the family.”

Your jaw clenched. You remembered the promises he made, back when you were younger, that he’d never force you into something like this. “I just… I don’t understand. You always said—”

“People change, Y/N,” he interrupted, his tone firm. “This is what’s best for you and for us. For the family.”

You shook your head, feeling a rush of helplessness. “And what about what I want? I’ve been trying to tell you for weeks that I don’t want this, and you’re not listening.”

He exhaled sharply, the kind of sigh that signaled his patience was running thin. “This isn’t about what you want. I didn’t raise you to be selfish.”

“Selfish?” The word stung, and you couldn’t help the surge of anger that rose within you. “I’m asking for my life. How is that selfish?”

He frowned, unyielding. “Enough, Y/N. This is happening. We’re done discussing it.”

Your breath hitched, but you forced yourself to stay composed. The walls of the office seemed to close in on you, the reality of it settling heavy and cold. You had a week—seven days—to either submit to this life he’d chosen for you or… what? You didn’t even know.

Without another word, you turned and left, fighting the urge to slam the door behind you. The hall felt stifling as you walked out, your thoughts churning.

When you reached your room, Logan was there, waiting. The moment he saw your face, he stiffened. “What happened?” His voice was a low rumble, the concern clear.

“A week,” you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze. “I have a week before he marries me off to Clyde.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and you could see the flash of anger in his eyes. He stepped closer, his hand moving to rest on your shoulder. “So that’s it, then? He’s just… throwing you to that bastard?”

You nodded, the words catching in your throat. “I don’t know what to do, Logan. I tried everything, but he won’t listen. He’s set on it.”

Logan’s hand slipped down, finding yours and giving it a reassuring squeeze, his rough fingers warm and grounding. You tightened your grip, the frustration and helplessness boiling inside you finally having somewhere to go.

“I’m supposed to just go along with it,” you muttered, bitterness seeping into your words. “Act like I’m thrilled to be Clyde’s obedient little wife. Like my life’s just… his to take.”

Logan’s gaze darkened. “It’s not. You know that. And anyone who tries to take it without your say? They got me to deal with.” His voice was low and dangerous, a promise just for you.

You looked up, searching his face, a flicker of hope stirring. “But what can we do, Logan? He’s not going to listen to me. And if I push back too hard… I don’t know what he’ll do.”

“Then let me get you out of here,” Logan said, leaning in closer. His voice softened, gentler now. “We can leave, right now if you want. Just say the word.”

Your heart twisted painfully, the temptation so fierce you almost said yes then and there. But reality clawed its way back, the weight of your father’s expectations and the tight grip he kept on every part of your life. Leaving would mean giving up everything—and, deep down, you weren’t sure you could risk it.

“What about my dad?” you whispered, feeling the weight of it pressing down again. “He’s… he’d see it as betrayal, Logan. And what if he goes after you?”

A flicker of something familiar crossed Logan’s face, a shadow from a life you couldn’t remember but that he clearly did. “Y/N, don’t worry about me,” he murmured. “Been through worse.” He squeezed your hand a little tighter, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a gesture so tender it nearly undid you. “And if he’s got a problem, then he can take it up with me.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the anger and fear give way just a bit. “You say that now, but you haven’t seen how he gets when people cross him. He’d never forgive me, Logan. He’d never forgive us.”

Logan’s hand moved to cup your face, his touch steadying you as his eyes met yours. “Then we don’t need his forgiveness. We get you out, and I keep you safe. Whatever comes after, we face it together.”

The fierce certainty in his voice sent a warmth flooding through you, your resolve hardening under his gaze. “But Clyde, the Romano’s… they won’t just let it go.”

A smirk tugged at Logan’s mouth, the edge of defiance clear. “Then they’ll learn what happens when they mess with you. Ain’t nobody’s right to take away your freedom, Y/N. Not your old man, not Clyde, not anyone.”

A beat of silence stretched between you, his hand still warm against your cheek. Your fingers tightened around his, and for a second, all the anger and dread faded, leaving just you and him in the quiet of the room.

“What about… us?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and for a second, you held your breath, waiting for his reaction.

Logan’s eyes softened, his gaze never leaving yours. “What about us, darlin’?” He brushed a thumb along your cheek, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “You think I’d just leave you here to face this on your own?”

His words sent a rush of warmth through you, and before you knew it, you were leaning into him, his presence steady and unshakable. He let out a low sigh, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you closer, his other hand tracing gentle circles over your back.

“You’re all I’ve got in this,” you whispered, feeling the tears prick at the corners of your eyes. “I can’t lose you, too.”

“You won’t,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, his hold tightening just enough to reassure you. “Not now, not ever.”

You stayed like that for a long moment, wrapped up in his embrace, the weight of everything slipping away in his arms. But eventually, reality crept back in, and you pulled back, catching the flicker of resolve in his gaze.

“If we do this…” You paused, steadying yourself. “If we leave, we need a plan.”

Logan gave a small nod, his hand still resting on yours. “We’ll figure it out. Tonight, we’re just gettin’ you through this.”

It was a promise, simple and unbreakable, and for the first time in weeks, you felt a flicker of hope stirring deep inside you.

---

The rehearsal dinner was held in a private room at the church a few days later; a grand, echoing place with gilded walls and tall stained-glass windows that cast colored light over everything. Clyde, his parents, and your family were all gathered, discussing wedding arrangements like it was a done deal, each word chipping away at any illusion of control you had left.

Logan and the other bodyguards stood at a respectful distance, keeping watch. He tried to keep his gaze neutral, but his eyes lingered on you longer than necessary, catching every forced smile and stiff nod you gave.

As the minister went through the motions, you and Clyde practiced exchanging vows. You held his hands, repeating words that felt like a foreign language—lifeless, meaningless. Your eyes drifted toward Logan, and he gave you the barest nod, grounding you with that single, unspoken promise.

After the vows, Clyde leaned in close, his voice low and smug. “I think you’ll come to love our life together, Y/N. Just give it time.”

You forced a polite smile, biting back the words you wanted to say. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Logan clench his fists, his face darkening.

Finally, as the rehearsal ended and people began drifting off, you made your way to a quiet corner, needing a moment alone. Logan slipped over to you, his movements subtle as he came to stand beside you.

“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice softer now that it was just the two of you.

You shook your head, feeling that familiar knot of dread twist tighter. “Logan, I don’t think I can go through with this. But I don’t know if I can run, either. I’m…  I’m stuck.”

He took a deep breath, his gaze intense as he looked down at you. “What if I told you that you didn’t have to decide tonight?” he asked quietly. “That we could just… take it one day at a time. You don’t have to have all the answers right now.”

The tension in your shoulders eased a bit, and you met his eyes, finding strength in the certainty there. He wasn’t pushing you, wasn’t forcing anything on you. He was just… here, with you, in whatever way you needed.

“Okay,” you whispered, nodding slowly. “One day at a time.”

Logan gave a small, reassuring smile. “That’s all we need, darlin’.” His hand brushed your shoulder, lingering just a second longer than necessary before he stepped back.

---

The day of the wedding had arrived, and you were dolled up, your makeup and hair were perfect, and your wedding dress was heavy, constricting, and large.

Once the makeup artists and hair stylists left, you had fled to the bathroom in the bridal suite and were currently hunched over the toilet. You hadn’t thrown up—yet—but you could feel the nausea and anxiousness rising.

You braced yourself against the counter, taking deep breaths as you tried to calm the twisting feeling in your stomach. The dress felt like a vice, heavy and restrictive, pressing on every nerve, suffocating in a way that went beyond fabric and lace. You squeezed your eyes shut, hoping the queasiness would pass.

A knock at the door pulled you from the spinning in your head.

“Y/N?” Nancy’s soft, steady voice filtered through, full of that motherly concern you’d come to rely on all your life.

You took a steadying breath, swallowing hard before calling out, “Come in, Nancy.”

The door creaked open, and Nancy stepped inside, closing it quietly behind her. Her gaze immediately softened as she took in the look on your face, her expression a mix of sympathy and something else—resolve, maybe.

“Oh, cara mia,” she murmured, reaching out to place a hand on your shoulder. “You don’t look well. This whole business—it’s too much, isn’t it?”

You managed a shaky nod. “I… I don’t know if I can do this, Nancy. Every time I think about it, I just…” You trailed off, not sure how to put into words the suffocating dread that had settled over you.

She gave you a small, encouraging squeeze. “You know,” she said quietly, “there are other paths besides the one your father chose for you. And you don’t have to walk it alone.”

Your heart skipped at her words. “You… you’d help me? Even if I…?”

Nancy nodded, a spark of fierce protectiveness in her eyes. “Logan’s already got your things in his car,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “If you’re ready to go, he’s waiting.”

You blinked back tears before grabbing one of her hands, “y- you want me to go?”

“SÌ. Your father is a bastardo, breaking that promise him and your mother made.” She squeezed your hand, “Logan’s a good man. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. He won’t let you down.”

You swallowed hard, Nancy’s words settling like a quiet fire in your chest. She was right. Your father had broken his promise, and you didn’t owe him your life just because he controlled every other part of it.

With a shaky exhale, you gave her a nod. “Alright… I’ll go.”

Nancy’s face softened, relief mingling with pride. “Good girl. Now, take this.” She pressed a small envelope into your hand. “Cash. Just in case.”

You looked down at it, blinking back tears. “Thank you, Nancy. For everything.”

She pulled you into a hug, her hand stroking your back gently. “Go, cara mia. Go live your life.” She pulled back, eyes glinting with fierce determination. “And don’t look back.”

You nodded, holding onto that resolve as you slipped out of the bathroom and made your way down the hall, heart pounding. Every step felt heavier, weighed down by fear and the voice in the back of your mind that told you this was dangerous, reckless. But when you stepped outside and saw Logan waiting by his car, the weight lifted.

He looked up, his gaze intense but soft, like he’d been waiting for this moment just as long as you had. “You ready?”

You hesitated, just for a moment, before giving him a small nod. “Yeah. Let’s get out of here.”

Logan opened the passenger door for you, helping you in, his hand lingering on yours for a second longer than necessary. He closed the door, then climbed into the driver’s seat, starting the engine with a low rumble that matched the pulse pounding in your ears.

As he pulled out of the church’s parking lot, the weight of the decision hit you again. You were leaving everything behind—the security, the expectations, the people who’d shaped your entire life. But with each passing second, the fear melted away, replaced by a strange, liberating sense of excitement.

Logan glanced over, noticing the small smile tugging at your lips. “You don’t look so panicked now.”

You shook your head, unable to hide your grin. “I’m not. Not with you here.”

He gave a soft chuckle, that familiar warmth in his gaze. “Good. Because we’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

You settled back, feeling more at ease than you’d felt in months. There was silence for a moment, comfortable and charged, before you turned to him, voice barely a whisper.

“Where are we going?”

Logan smirked. “Anywhere but here.”

You laughed softly, relaxing into your seat. The road stretched ahead, open and endless, and for the first time in a long while, the future felt like something you could shape.

logan is 141 years old and reader is around 23-25 years old

what!? is that a happy ending? who would've thought... next up, is origins!

[yeahspider]

SWEET LIFE

A/n- this is so self indulgent. like seriously. maknae line x f. reader fluff yes plz! might get a hyung line version bc I like the concept (maybe if yall want it) but this is just a vibe so vibe with me. nsfw (weed mention) . enjoy and feel free to visit my inbox as I am taking requests. <3

Your apartment was a little crowded today. Considering it was everybody's off day. The boys decided to spend most of it at your place. Your apartment for them was a safe haven away from prying eyes and demanding schedules.

You didn't mind having them all over as you hated when you were alone. The noise they brought provided you a piece of comfort. After grueling rehearsals all week and your never-ending day job, this was a much-needed moment of peace.

“Someone take the scissors out of Jisung’s hand thank you very much!” you say as you prepare yourself for the task of taking down your braids. Your next appointment is in the upcoming week and you wanted to give your hair some time to breathe. With the length they're at, it was going to take a while. But of course, your boys are ever excited to help you out. Well most of them.

I feel like you’re scamming me babe.” says Seungmin as he grabs the scissors from Jisung. No one wanted to risk your wraith if he cut too high.

"I don't know what are you talking about Minnie I'd never scam you beloved," you say in your defense.

"yeah because five dollars is a completely reasonable nonscamming price," he says with a smile. Taking your braids gently out of the bonnet you had them in. Seungmin didn't want to pull on them if he could help it.

Jisung, now scissorless, took a seat beside you on the floor. Setting the blunt wraps on the coffee table in front of you. Preparing to roll for you and himself.

"I wish you would let me help more," he said with a pout on his face. You wanted to kiss it off him.

"you are helping sungie your presence is enough. It keeps me calm. Plus no one else rolls a blunt for me as good as you do." you comfort me as you kiss his now smiling lips. That seemed to satisfy him enough as he started the rolling process.

Felix came bounding into the living room from his napping spot in your room, flopping himself on the couch and picking up the remote to the TV. Channel surfing for something interesting to watch.

"Ugh, nothing is interesting to watch on TV. Felix complained while sliding down the couch to the floor as if he was melting in boredom.

"You could always just hook up the game and play Mario Kart or something. Go see if one of the boys wanna play with you," you suggested. Smiling at his antics as he crawled across the floor to give you a kiss. "You always have the best ideas, babe." He said as he practically skipped out of the room. Making your face flush at his praise. Just waving it off as Jisung teased you for your reaction.

A soft moan left your mouth as Seungmin got to the root of a braid. His hands gently unbraiding and giving your scalp a little rub to loosen up the tension. His hands felt so heavenly on your head after the rough week you had.

Felix took his time dragging a sleepy Jeongin into the room. It seems as if he found his gaming partner, although unwillingly. Going straight to the TV to set everything up, meanwhile, Jeongin sleepily made his way to you. Placing his head in your lap as he pulled himself closer to your stomach. You just laughed softly at his cat-like antics. Reminding you of a certain someone.

"Tell Felix to let me sleep." Jeongin groaned. His warm breath hits the exposed skin on your stomach. Hands hin his hair as you stroking softly.

"Now you know once Lix has his mind set on something there is no telling him anything." you comfort the boy.

"But I'm so tired and you're so warm and comfortable Don't make me go over there to that heathen."

Felix can get kind of crazy while gaming but before you could even suggest a solution the sunshine boy dragged the sleepy one out of your embrace. A groan erupts from the latter. There was no saving him now.

An object in front of your vision distracted you from the two gaming boys. It was the blunt Jisung rolled especially for you. To take the edge off a rough week. Encouraging you to take a hit he placed it right between your lips. Murmurung a "There you go. good girl." as you inhaled. Normally you would correct him for goodgirling you but today you didn't care. So you let him get away with it. Plus he could roll one hell of a blunt. And it was kind of hard to be cross with his hand on your thigh and Seungmin'd in your hair. In fact, you were quite content.

"Chan texted he and the hyungs should be home in a bit," Felix said from in front of the TV.

"Good, that's just enough time for Jisung to roll another one," you suggested. Tugging on the hem of his shirt. Maybe you were too high, because you really wanted him to take it off. Yeah, you were so high.

"Hey, I'm not rolling for those losers! I roll for you, and for you only! They have their own hands." Jisung protested as he offered it to Seungmin to which the younger declined, stating that he had to stay focused on your hair. Something about his statement made your heart swell. It's a nice feeling to be cared for.

Jisung then offered to blunt the other two in the room. They on the other hand accepted his offer. It was often he shared his blunts with anyone other than his girl. He said it was the gentlemen in him.

Time passed as you all waited for the older ones to get home. The more that passed the higher you got, and soon enough everyone in the room was higher than you originally intended to be. You could tell in the way everyone was lying to each other. Felix and Jeongin are a pile of limbs, their game long abandoned. Music is playing from the speakers as they whisper secrets to each other, giggling like school children while watching random videos on their phones. You were still seated between Seungmin's legs. His hands still dutifully unbraiding. Ever dedicated to his craft. But you could tell he was contact high as well. You could tell in the way he would kiss your head ever so often. A gentle reminder of his affection for you.

Jisung was sitting in your lap, playing with random parts of your body. Your face arms legs had all been prodded by him, not that it bothered you in the slightest. His touch left sparks all over you. You were having conversations about whatever came to mind. And finding comfort in one another. The atmosphere is warm and cozy. You wish every day could be like this.

[kikuism]

i finished five broken blades

[chocum]

P POWER !

— “that pussy got power” feat. shiu kong, kento nanami, toji fushiguro, satoru gojo, suguru geto, & choso kamo.

WARNINGS. fem reader (she/her), recording, overstim, shower sex, choking, eye contact, spit, slaps, threesome, anal, oral (m+f) needy men. note i hope you all are doing well. p power came on when i was On my way! to work (literally like half of it was written while i was on the clock lol) and then this was born — i basically just took a lyric i think best described them from the song. this was more fun than i thought it would be and ill prob do it again for a diff song. anyways, feedback + reblogs are greatly appreciated ty and enjoyyy!! unedited bc we poured up for the 4th n im a little tipsy ( ｡ •̀ ᵕ •́ ｡)

SHIU KONG — “SHE WANNA GO VIRAL, KEEP FUCKIN’ FOR HOURS”

“look so pretty for the camera baby, look at you” shiu slowly moves to bring his phone closer to where his thick cock burrows and disappears in your struggling pussy— crying and creaming porcelain white around his length, messy. “so full, but she keeps begging for more. squeezing me so tight, how fuckin’ greedy”

he always fills you up so well— massaging your silky walls, his leaky cock curving languidly, kissing your spot with each stupidly slow stroke.

shiu loves to “take his time” with you. loves to just lazily push his hips up, roll them against yours, skin melding, creating delicious friction. it doesn’t take much with you. his cock was made for you after all— perfectly molds your pussy, hugging him with your gummy walls.

“know you wanna show out for the camera baby, cum again f’me. show ‘em how good you are. cmon baby juuuust like that.” you let out a soft, helpless whimper, feeling the heat of embarrassment surge across your cheeks like a wildfire, consuming you, spreading with a prickly intensity that makes your skin flush, your heart racing as he talks you through it, coaxing you closer and closer.

then you’re babbling broken cries of his name over and over and over as you cum around him again, your cunt sucking another load from him too, he never leaves you behind.

he keeps his phone focused on how you milk him dry, sliding out slowly, lewdly, with a throaty “fuck” before stuffing his fingers in your achy pussy making you jump, overstimulation tickling up your spine, “don’t let me out, can’t let all your hard work go to waste, now can we?”

KENTO NANAMI — “SHE WET IN THE SHOWER, THAT PSSY GET LOUDER”

nanami’s eyes sweetly dive into yours, intimately. his broad hands stretching across the curve of your neck as the warm water crashes against his back, cascading, stinging where you dig your nails into his flexed muscles, leaving angry red slashes.

“fuck. gonna cum if you keep looking up at me so desperately like that, honey.”

the sound of skin against skin gets lost in the heavy downpour of the shower, each drop drumming against the tilled walls, but nanami manages to pull out sweet, sweet moans from deep in your throat— cutting through the cacophony, clear and unmistakable, filthy. they pound through his ears, making his cock throb in your wet, sloppy fucking pussy.

“stick—” he grunts, “stick that fucking tongue out”

you nod with a docile tilt of your head like a little doll, your eyes pools of sincerity— obediently letting your tongue fall out of your mouth. he’s leaning over, his body bending slightly as he tilts his head downward to let spit form and fall from innetween his lips onto your tongue, mixing with droplets of steamy water as it glides down your throat.

“so nasty, hm?” his tone is mean, but he’s praising you, smirking as his grip on you tightens, “my nasty, slut of a wife”

TOJI FUSHIGURO — “WE AINT SAYIN NO VOWS, SHE FUCKIN’ NO COWARD”

“c’mon doll, don’t tap out on me,” toji roughly huffs, feigning sympathy but the smirk that tugs at his scarred lips betrays him like it always does, his hands slapping against your puffy cheek— the mean impact leaving a faint stinging sensation amidst the warmth of his touch “‘m not done stuffing my pretty girl yet, cmon”

you’re so fucked out you can’t even think, limbs hanging limp in his tight, tight grasp, basically picking you up and dropping you on his thick cock as your cunt weeps for him, pooling slick he’s fucked out of you onto the velvety sheets.

even his body trembles, each trained muscle tensing beneath his scarred skin, cock twitching inside you rhythmically because it’s too much, even for him. but he ignores the creeping- painful feeling of overstimulation, hissing through clenched teeth about how you’re so “tight”, so “good for him.”

and once again, he’s cumming inside you, heavy balls slapping against your flush ass as he fucks his seed into your abused little cunt. “toji” you cry, dazed eyes looking into his, but he’s so gone, body taking over, hips still slamming into you as he groans out a breathy— needy “fuck” fingers dipping into the curve of your hips.

“i want to taste you,” he sighs, rushing to pull out before folding you over, “ ‘m not stopping till i’m covered in you, give it to me just how i like it”

CHOSO KAMO — “GET PLAY AS A PLAYER, THAT P GET DEVOURED”

“did my girl miss me, hm?” choso hums against your oozing cunt, fingers pushing your fat lips apart, his pointer and middle spreading, so he can give your pretty little clit his undivided attention, kissing, nuzzling with his nose.

he groans at the way you clench around nothing, just begging for his needy cock, words meshed and muffled against your drooling pussy, “i know she did, pretty, ‘s ok ‘m here now”

he drags his fingers to your mouth, “get ‘em wet” pushing past your puffy lips, for you to lick and suck on, not leaving until they’re dripping in your spit, before dipping into your cunt, dragging them against your silky, warm walls, blowing on your clit so gently each time you greedily buck into his palms.

“gonna give me what i want, huh?” he pauses, kiss. “gonna make a mess for me? i know you can, baby. you always do. always get so messy for me i love it”

you nod sheepishly, hands moving to card through his fluffy hair, both hands gripping onto his scalp to ground yourself and grind on his pretty face.

messily, he slobbers, lapping at your cunt, switching between soft sucks to your clit and broad slow licks, making you shudder and twitch, his arms snaking around your thighs to keep you nice and still for him to devour you.

SATORU GOJO & SUGURU GETO — “TOLD MY BROTHER SHE OURS”

“his tongue feel that good, baby? you’re slacking off. suck me like you usually do. ‘s not fair” gojo’s pouting— whining, his hands gently cradling your cheeks bringing you back to him, but your pretty eyes just keep rolling further and further back at the feeling of geto’s tongue flat against your needy cunt. sucking and spitting all over your messy pussy.

promoting gojo to huff, moving his hand to the back of your neck to start rutting into your little mouth, chest growing warm at how you gag around him, his pride growing now that you’re looking up at him, eyes watering so sweetly for him.

geto’s more mature when it comes to sharing you. just hums, pressing his cock against your puffy folds playing, tapping it against your quivering hole, groaning because you’re so messy. can’t even tell if it’s his drool of your messy slick or both.

before he sinks into your cunt, gojo mutters something your overwhelmed little brain can’t comprehend, but after some shuffling around, you feel it. one slicked-up finger slowly sinking into your ass, while geto bottoms out.

gojo gets mean when he’s jealous, but he isn’t cruel, doesn’t wanna hurt his pretty girl, so he preps your tight ass before sinking his cock inside.

you can’t fucking think, at all, brain mushy turned to goo as they both take you. spewing nothing but dirty shit, calling you all types of names, some sweet most of those from geto, but the “slut”’s and “whore”’s are all gojo. his hips sputtering, going dumb at how your tight little ass squeezes around him— he could barely move, just feels geto’s curved tip brushing against the wall that separates your two little holes.

both rutting into you like animals in heat with no regard for how sensitive you're getting, pretty tears brimming up in your eyes.

“so pretty when you take up both, baby ‘specially this little ass ‘s so tight got fucking lucky. keep fucking draining us”

[seonghwaddict]

save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi

in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.

best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.

lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!

listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis

masterlist.

it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.

you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.

“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”

based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.

“can i admit something?”

he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.

you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.

“i’ve never done that before.”

his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”

“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”

“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”

furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.

“i can… teach you, if you want?”

you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.

“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”

he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”

you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.

you could already hear him giggling at the sight.

groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.

deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.

the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.

“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.

once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.

“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”

you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”

“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.

“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”

“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”

you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.

“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”

“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”

“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.

you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.

“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”

“r-really?”

mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.

“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”

you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.

“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”

“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”

his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.

he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.

you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.

all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.

“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.

eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.

with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.

“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”

he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.

he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.

“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.

after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.

“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”

he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.

he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”

you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.

it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.

he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.

“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”

you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.

he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.

the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.

when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.

when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.

“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”

he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.

he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.

the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.

the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.

“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”

you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.

you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.

your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.

still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.

your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.

his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.

you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.

your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.

“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”

his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.

the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”

you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.

it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.

after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.

“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”

“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.

this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.

“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”

networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet

permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf

[goldeunoias]

Favorite Student.

WARNINGS: YES THIS IS PROFESSOR AND STUDENT FUCKING IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT DON'T READ IT. both of yall are adults i think like 22 and 28 or something like that so it's not like the worst of the worst but yes. there are power dynamics blah blah, sunghoon is massive pervert, ITS ALL FICTION YALL

um includes....perverted sunghoon, eating out, teasing, pet names, sex in an office, fingering, it's me so ya know

Synopsis: A class you'd hated, but a professor you'd always admired...

A/N: DAISY BACKKKKK

SUNGHOON STANS ARE THE BESTTTTT at writing and giving me anons and feedback and comments and reblogs which is why I will always spoil them bc they treat me the best <333. next fic is a heeseung one sooo if you want more heeseung content make sure to give that one as much love too when it comes out!

_________________________________________

He was the meanest professor around, bar none.

But in your current predicament, he was the only professor left for the class you needed to take, unless you wanted to wait and thus delay your graduation by a whole semester.

That's how you found yourself standing outside his office, swinging back and forth on your heels, trying to get the courage to go in and ask him for help on the chapter that seemed like no one in your class was getting, you included.

"What are you doing standing outside my office?"

At the sound of his voice you jumped and turned around, heart racing in your ears as you tried to give him some eye contact; ultimately failing miserably.

"U-Um, I needed help with chapter 14 in the textbook and no one in my section really got it either so I figured I'd stop by-"

"Did you look at the lecture notes?"

"Y-yes sir."

"The supplemental videos?"

You nodded again.

Dr. Park sighed and moved past you to unlock his office door, letting the door swing shut past you as you walked in. The vibes of his room was austere to say the least and you couldn't tell if anyone had ever sat in the chair across from him given how spotless and un-creased it was.

Well, first time for everything.

"So what are you needing help with? Do you have any notes or something?"

"U-uh yes sir, give me a sec," you stuttered out as you fidgeted with your bag to pull out your laptop, showing him all that you had done.

He leaned on his side of the thick oak desk so he could get a closer look at what you had done, the closer proximity causing cologne you could only surmise to be expensive filling your nose. You fidgeted in your seat and moved some to lower your skirt as it rode up, trying to think of something to fill the awkward silence as he scrolled through what you had done.

Luckily, he beat you to it.

"Well, it's not the worst thing I've seen." He sighed, taking off his glasses and pointing to your screen. "You still aren't understanding the basic concepts of this chapter yet and it's reflecting in your notes. You see this summary outline you wrote here is-"

Your eyes absentmindedly drifted to his alabaster forearms that were shown from the rolled up sleeves of his button up, thick large hands scrolling on your keyboard. His jaw and nose were sharp too and from the closeness you could make out his dark lashes, usually hidden by the thick framed glasses he wore.....

You were jolted out of your thoughts when he snapped his fingers in front of your face, eyebrows knitted in annoyance at you wasting his time by daydreaming.

"If you're going to come to my office I would think you'd listen to what I have to say," Sunghoon said through a clucked tongue.

You looked down and immediately apologized profusely, feeling tears well in your eyes. You weren't the best with scolding you never had been, but to have someone who was already not in the best of moods have it become worse because of you only made you more sensitive.

He looked at you from across the desk, a grown girl with mannerisms like that of a meek fawn.

A prey.

You swallowed thickly as he stood up and leaned over the desk, strands of mahogany hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at you.

"Hey hey, don't cry, we'll work through it together mmkay? You're a smart girl aren't you?"

It was a voice you'd never heard him use on anyone, and it made the hairs on your neck stand up and your legs squirm as he held your chin.

"I'm sorry it's just this is one of my final classes I need to graduate and everything is hard and I don't want to waste your time-"

"Aw, princess don't stress, don't stress," he cooed. The sweet and gentle tone of his voice was causing you to melt into his touch, wondering how someone who usually only spoke in stern curt sentences could produce such sounds.

You couldn't stop bouncing your legs and squirming in your seat as his fingertips stroked the underside of your chin softly, making soft shushes and coos at you to calm your nerves.

Fuck, he wanted to ruin you.

But he had to wait for you to make the move. He was in the precarious position and even though he could see in your gaze that you were begging for it, you were going to have to show him.

A little teasing should do the trick.

"Here, we have some time before the next test don't we? Start coming by my office everyday and we can work through this unit together so you won't have to worry alright" he offered up, sitting back down in his office chair with a soft smile on his face.

You sniffled and nodded at the premise before rushing out a plethora of "thank you"s to him, unable to stop the tingling on your chin from where he had touched you as he left........

_________________________________

"Here sweetheart move your chair over to my side of the desk so you can get a better look at my screen," he offered up, moving his chair over some to make some room.

"O-okay sure," you agreed, the name "sweetheart" ringing throughout your head. Had he always used that nickname for you? Or was he just using it as a coverup for forgetting your name? Whatever the reason, your mind was spinning in circles at the gentle way he said it.

“Cmon, you can come a little closer than that, I don’t bite ya know”, he hummed, pulling your chair closer to his. You nodded because you didn’t trust your voice and your mind couldn’t stop wandering to how large his hands looked as he pointed out errors in the extra assignments he’d given you, talking you softly through each one.

"Does that make sense?" he inquired gently, placing his head on your thigh and squeezing it. The contact made you jolt in your skin and you gulped before profusely nodding, truly able to grasp just how large his hands were as they sat on your plush thigh.

"Good girl, see you had no reason to be so worried, your work is been improving exponentially".

"T-thank you sir. I have to go to my next class now...." you trailed off awkwardly, fidgeting in your seat.

He smiled and stood up, waiting for you to do the same before escorting you to his door.

"Of course. Same time tomorrow?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, scurrying out of his office. You made a b-line to the bathroom to splash some cold water on your face, wondering if there was anything that gave away just how flustered you truly were in his proximity.

How can someone be so cute? Sunghoon hummed to himself as he sat at his desk, fiddling with his pen. His own hand still buzzed with excitement at how soft and warm your thigh was, and his mind couldn't help but trail further down a rabbit hole.

For the next month it seemed Sunghoon had only gotten friendlier and friendlier: you found out that he had a dog which he adored and would bring to the office if he was allowed to, that he had a younger sister, used to compete in sports (which you could attribute to his frame), and really liked fashion.

All the while, Sungoon used every opportunity to get you used to his touch; the stroking of your ear during one session, the soft touch of your shoulder the next. Every time you'd jolt before absentmindedly melting into it, and before you knew it you find yourself craving his touch.

You didn't dare your friends or anyone around you of your extra tutoring sessions, or that his hands were somehow find themself on yours. Surely you should be disgusted at yourself instead of electrified by the touches he leaves on you right?

But those thoughts would always disappear every time you walked into his office.

"So sorry I'm late!" you rushed out as you stepped into his office, panting from having sprinted up the stairs to get here.

Sunghoon looked up from the papers at his desk and smiled, flickering his head to come sit down.

"It's okay sweetheart don't worry," he hummed, trying to pull his eyes away from the sheen the shone on your neck.

"I've been so frazzled lately I hope you're not too mad at me being late," you rushed out, practically stumbling over to sit down in your chair.

He hummed and stared at your plush thighs that clung to the leather of the chair and watched as you shifted to prevent them sticking, getting flustered when you saw he was watching you.

"Sorry, I'm a bit sticky it's a bit warm outside, s-should I just stand instead?" you offered up quickly, standing up and fixing your sundress.

"Why don't you sit on my desk instead then? Here let me move these papers out of you way-"

"W-won't I get the desk dirty since I'm all sweaty" you interjected, heart racing as he cleared his desk off for you, making space so you'd have no choice but to sit right in front of his chair.

"Don't worry about it, now be a good girl and come sit," he cooed, giving you eyes that almost dared you to disobey him. Quickly you went over and sat on his desk, swallowing thickly when Sunghoon began massaging your calves as he removed your shoes.

"Poor baby rushed over to our tutoring session, your legs must be exhausted and aching," he soothed, tender hands working into the soft flesh of your skin.

"Only s-slightly, it's fine I"m used to it," you excused, squirming as Sunghoon leaned closer to your skin. "Is this something a professor should be um...doing, I mean I know we've gotten close b-but.." you trailed off, yelping when Sunghoon dragged his lips against your knee.

"Then tell me to stop kitten," he taunted, kissing the inner of your thighs as he slid off your other shoe, looking up at you through framed lenses.

"You're not stupid baby, your test grades prove that well enough. Surely you kept coming to our lessons hoping it'd end up like this," he continued, hoisting your legs over his shoulders as he pulled you closer against his face.

"I...I don't know," was all you could muster out, toes curling as he softly kissed your inner thighs. Sunghoon chuckled under his breath and stood up, pushing you down onto his desk as he took of his glasses.

The air was knocked out of you for a second as you lay splayed on the desk, the cool hardwood being a stark contrast to your sticky skin.

“It’s okay baby,” he leaned in, licking the sweat from your neck. “It’s okay to say you like doing perverted things with me. Go on, tell your professor how much you like it”, he cooed, rubbing your puffy clit with his thumb.

You whined as felt something tightening in your tummy, mustering up the courage to speak.

“I-I like it”, you choked out, your toes curling in your tube socks as you started to feel how thick his fingers really were.

“Awww, give me more than that yeah? Tell me exactly what you like.” He couldn’t help himself. He wanted you to profess all types of profanities through hazy eyes and shaky legs, for you to beg to be ruined and defiled by him.

“I like..doing perverted things with you.” You felt your face burn as you stumbled your way through the sentence, rutting your hips into a feeling that only got tighter.

“Aw you do? Well in that case let me teach my princess all the perverted things we can do together..." he trailed off, squeezing the side of your thighs.

"Good girl~, such a good girl~" Sunghoon cooed, lifting up the hem of your sundress. "Cute panties," he drawled as his index finger slid down the slit, pressing against the sticky wet patch. "Mind if I keep them?"

You couldn't help but buck your hips into the feeling as you nodded without a second thought, your nails digging into the gloss furnish of his desk.

"Sweetheart you shouldn't agree to everything I say," he spoke, cupping your heat in his hand and massaging it. You gripped onto his shoulders instead and whimpered into his chest as you felt trickles of wetness soak your cotton underwear, meak "I'm sorry"s leaving you.

"It's okay, it's okay, don't apologize. It's just," he moved the hair covering your ear with his mouth before kissing against it, letting out deep groans as he rutted himself against you.

"there are some bad people out there, waiting to take advantage of pretty young girls like you. Are you going to spread your legs for everyone?"

"No, it's j-just because it's...you," you whimpered against his chest.

Sunghoon sucked air through his teeth as his self control unraveled at the seams.

"Because it's me?" he inquired, kneeling down so he was eye-level with your soaked core, messing with the hem of your panties.

"Wait Ihaven'tshoweredso-" your legs shook around his head as his tongue pressed against the soaked wet patch of your underwear, groaning at the taste that trickled onto his tongue.

"Is that why you taste and smell so sweet princess?" He groaned, pulling your underwear down without a second thought to expose yourself barren to him, his cock twitching in his pants at how sticky you already were.

"Here hold my hand sweetheart, squeeze it as hard as you like," he cooed as he offered up his free hand to you. You obliged immediately and squeezed his digits as his other free hand rubbed softly against your swollen clit, leaving light kisses on the puffy bud.

You let out meek "I'm sorry"s as your nails dug into the alabaster skin of his hand, struggling to keep yourself still as you felt the warmth of his lips wrap around your clit before sucking softly.

"It's okay princess, just sink into the feeling, I'm going to make you feel so so good," he groaned between your legs. You nodded and felt your eyes flutter into the back your head as you felt every ridge of his tongue against your entrance, saliva mixing with arousal as he lapped up everything you gave him.

The pleasure only increased as he wantonly hummed around your bud, Sunghoon drunk off of how sweet and syrupy you tasted on his tongue.

Sunghoon was doing his best to not just pin you to the desk and fuck the daylights of you, not understanding how someone could be so intoxicating. Every thing from your little gasps of air to the whimpers you were trying to hide in your throat were making him dizzy, desperate even.

"Your hole is twitching every time I suck your clit princess," Sunghoon remarked as he came up for air, licking his lips clean. "It must want something in it huh?" he drawled, sliding two thick digits into you. Your back arched off the desk as you felt the tight stretch between your legs, your hands going to squeeze his wrist you whimpered.

"Oh no no baby, don't try to move away from it. Take it like a good girl, like my favorite student would," Sunghoon praised as he scissored his fingers inside of you, chuckling at how droplets of arousal leaked out.

Hearing him say you're his favorite student made your heart thrum in excitement, your thighs tensing up when the pads of his fingers pressed down against the spongy part of your walls.

"Pull your sundress down and play with your chest for me princess," Sunghoon ordered gently as he moved to the skin of your neck, infatuated with how he could feel your heart beating through his kisses. "Do it like how you do it when you're in your bed all alone, fingers between your legs..." he whispered against your ear, unable to hide his grin.

Your body felt unbearably hot as you whimpered and complied, pulling down the straps of your sundress and moving your bra. Your legs inexplicably shook as you tugged the pert buds, biting down on your lip as Sunghoon sped up the pace of his fingers.

Sunghoon made a mental note of your movements so he could replicate them next time, his mouth getting hungry as his mouth encircled a free nipple.

You spasmed slightly at his movements as you felt his coarse tongue suck and lick around the sensitive skin, making a point to hold eye contact with you any time your stare met his. Coupled with the gushing sounds he heard between your legs only got more turned on, leaving deep marks on your chest he was sure would last for days.

He couldn't help it, he was getting impatient, desperate to have you whimpering out his name and begging for him to ruin you in this godforsaken sundress.

"Fuck~ you're gonna get me in so much fucking trouble," Sunghoon groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his fingers. "I'm sorry baby but I can't let you come from just some fingering now can I?" he teased.

The eyes you gave him almost broke him down right there as he pulled out his digits and sucked them clean, unbuckling his belt with the other. On any other occasion he'd love to have you on your knees trying to fit him in your soft mouth, but his patience for that was long gone.

Your eyes enlarged as you watched his member spring free and press against his lower abdomen, Sunghoon hissing through his teeth as he stroked the reddened tip.

"Don't worry princess, we're gonna make it fit okay? Even if you are this tight," he reassured teasingly, kissing your temple as he pinned both your hands in one of his.

"Y-you don't need a condom" you choked out.

Sunghoon raised brows and chuckled at the fact such a statement could come from such a timid mouth of yours, ripping it with his teeth and putting it on regardless.

"Mmm of course I do sweetheart," he cooed, rubbing his length between your folds. Even through the condom you could feel how warm and heavy his member felt between your legs, your mind racing at the fact that you were going to have sex with your professor.

"Besides, if I came inside would you be able to keep my load inside you like a good girl? We can't have a mess in my office now can we?" he drawled in your ear, pushing his thick tip past your walls. You already felt a stretch that was incomparable to his fingers and started struggling against his grip, Sunghoon only laughing at you and tightening his hold even more.

"Shhhh don't run princess, don't run, this is how it feels to be fucked by a real man yeah? No college guy could find my baby's special spot like I could," he soothed, finding it so cute how you sucked on your bottom lip to cope with the stretch.

You raised your head slightly to discover that he was only halfway in, despite how full your lower belly felt. When Sunghoon saw your widened eyes he could only pout at you, finding you absolutely adorable.

And adorable things deserved to be ruined.

"Here princess, kiss me yeah?"

Shakily you reached up some and connected your lips with his, jolting against his mouth as Sunghoon had taken the opportunity to push himself to the hilt.

"P-professor" was all you could whine out as you felt your mind go dazy, Sunghoon using the opportunity to slide his tongue against yours.

"You're doing so good, taking all of me princess, such a good girl," Sunghoon praised softly in between kisses. He knew once he started moving his hips you'd be a goner, already evident by how dazy your eyes looked when he stared into them.

You felt his tip push against the entrance of your cervix and you couldn't help but let out a sharp gasp at the feeling, biting down on Sunghoon's shoulder to cope with the heavy sensation in your tummy.

"Hello? Mr. Park are you in your office?"

Your eyes widened and you went to move to hide, recognizing the voice as your fellow classmate. Sunghoon only laughed at your attempts and pinned your wrists, giving you a "shh" motion as he continued pressing his hips against yours.

"Yeah, I'm here. However if my door is closed that means office hours are also closed correct?" he tsked, sucking a breath between his teeth as you clenched down around him.

Despite his seemingly calm composure you had your mouth squeezed shut feeling a tight knot start to form.

Your legs shook as you tried tapping his wrist with your bound hands, Sunghoon cooing at you softly and kissing your cheek.

"I know you're close baby, I know I know, just hold out for a bit longer mmkay? I'll take care of you, I will."

You could only nod as your face scrunched up from holding back your moans, desperately wondering why this student was so keen on getting into the office of one of the most stubborn people alive.

"I know, but there's this problem I really-"

"Rules are rules" he interjected, taking out his point on you by an extra forceful snap of his hips. Yours nails digged into your own skin as you tried to follow your professors wishes and hold out just a bit longer for him, softly whispering his name to garner his attention.

“Just a bit longer,” he shushed warmly, kissing your temple as he listened to the footsteps outside the door. Sure enough there was a sigh, followed by the sound of sneakers against the tile floor and the student walked away, Sunghoon relinquishing his grip on you and slowly speeding up his hips.

“P-Professor my tummy," was all you could manage out, squirming as you felt the knot get tighter.

"Mmm, you feel the pressure building right here?" Sunghoon couldn't help but tease, firmly pushing down on your lower belly. Your nails left red marks down his back and chest as you gasped at the feeling, mind slowly entering a point of incoherence.

You hazily nodded and felt your toes curl as Sunghoon peppered your neck with open mouth kisses, unable to stop himself from marking you.

"I'm close too princess, hold on just a bit longer for me and we can come together yeah? C'mon, I know you can," Sunghoon purred as his hips only sped up faster, raising your lower back slightly make sure he hit your spot every single time.

You could only hold your breath and scrunch your face as you tried warding off the feeling that was only getting stronger. Sunghoon's own resolve had withered away as he bit down on his bottom lip to suppress the groan that would be heard by the whole hallway, sweat on his entire body as you squeezed down on him like a vice.

"Fuck~ princess, go ahead and let loose for me."

You felt your mind go blank as the knot snapped tighter than you were anticipating, having to suppress your moans by burying yourself into Sunghoon's neck as liquid gushed from between your legs and your walls pulsed around sporadically.

Sunghoon's came shortly thereafter by burying his face in your own neck, his breathing ragged and uneven as he lay shaking on top of you.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you and your mind started swimming at what you'd just done and the mess you'd just made, knowing that if your ancestors were ever to watch you they'd hang their heads in shame.

Yet, that didn't stop you from wanting to do it again.

"Professor," you began, refusing to make eye contact with him after what you'd just done.

"Mmmm yes sweetheart?" Sunghoon cooed as he slowly pulled out, his collarbones and forehead glistening with sweat as he hid the evidence.

"Next time, I-I wanna do it...at your place," you offered up. This was a dangerous and well, a fireable request, you both knew that. However, that didn't stop Sunghoon from bending down to kiss your collarbones and chin, beaming it with happiness.

"I think I'd quite like that arrangement princess."

[earthtooz]

ratio is jealous bc im weak to him being jealous om, gn!reader but they wear a dress, fluff !!

“darling, this is a serious matter and i expect you to treat it as such,” veritas scolds as his face hovers inches away from yours, his body keeping yours captive against the softness of your shared bed.

“serious? well i think you seriously need to get over it. i spent a lot on that dress and i’ve been looking forward to wearing it to the gala all fortnight,” you scold, trying to look stern with the man hovering above you. “even if you don’t like it, i’m wearing it.”

“don’t like it?" he parrots, utterly appalled. "you’ve got the wrong idea. on the contrary, i think i like it too much.”

your hand snakes up to pinch his heavily defined deltoid. “then what’s the problem?”

“because others will love it just as much as i do.” there’s distaste in his voice when he tells you that, and the way his eyebrows furrow are similar to that of when a student asks him a question that he deems ridiculous.

"sure thing," you roll your eyes at his statement, clearly not believing him, and it vexes him that you are not aware of your ability to capture the attention of bystanders just by entering a room. veritas has witnessed it himself a multitude of times before he had become yours.

the scholar would seethe an envious green whilst keeping an eye on everyone who'd approach you, absolutely burning with jealousy because he was not the sole man of your attention. he'd lament over who he'd become, who you made him become whilst glaring at anyone who came near.

then, you'd smile at him and the fury he felt prior melts away because none of them could ever compete against someone as esteemed as the veritas ratio for your affections.

he's grateful that you saw through those idiots and chose him to be your partner in the end, but aeons, that has not done anything to cure his temper. years of treading the liminal space between friends and something more for too long can make any individual antsy.

"either way, i'm wearing the dress."

"fine. then i should forewarn you that you may find me overbearing tonight, and to not blame me for it."

his arms that were holding up his weight slip when your arms wrap around his neck, bringing him closer to you. veritas feels a little lighter when you litter kisses on his cheeks. "no need to be jealous, ratio, i'm all yours."

(true to his word, he does not part from you that evening, acting as an accessory to your outfit. he clings to you, hand never leaving your skin, always moving from your wrist to your waist to your shoulder. you can’t stray from him for more than an arm's length because you’re always tug back towards him before you can get too far, and then he'd follow you to your destination.

outsiders may observe and call him clingy, but judging by the carefree smile on your face and the way you’d beam at your lover every time he would pull you back to him, it doesn’t seem to bother you too much.)

© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[froggiewrites]

i read every single one of your works in one sitting and oh my god. your mind. your words. you're easily one of the best writers on this hellsite. it should be a crime you don't have more followers because your writing is criminally underrated

i saw you were taking requests and i don't want anything too specific but there isn't that much ace content and i really miss my man. a bit of hurt/comfort bc i love pain and then kissing it better

i was thinking something along the line of your Follow Through work (sorry if it feels repetitive but i live for this type ace content) but really I'll be happy with whatever you put out just have fun and go to town with it <3

Ahhh thank you so much this is so sweet 😭😭 I only started posting really recently so receiving sweet messages like this feels so unreal honestly, it just makes my heart so full. I loved writing this, I always love writing sweet stuff for Ace, so thank you for giving me an excuse to write something in this vein again! I hope you like it 💙

Blinders On

Pairing: Ace x Reader

SFW

Summary: You're in love with Ace. Everybody seems to know this but him. Warnings: Fluff, Miscommunication, A Little Self Loathing, Very Little Hurt/Lots of Comfort Word Count: 2.2k

You really can’t tell if Ace is politely rejecting you, or if he simply doesn’t understand your advances. You’re being terribly obvious, enough so that the rest of the ship (and probably the entire rest of the fleet) are well aware, teasing you for it at any given opportunity. If you have to hear one more man making obnoxious smooching noises whenever you two walk past you’re going to throttle someone.

“It’s honestly getting pathetic at this point.”

“Yeah, it hurts to see someone put their pride on the line like this with no reward in sight. Bring a tear to my eye, really.”

Their voices are teasing, not cruel, but your shoulders tense anyway. You hate feeling pathetic. If he just turned you down, you would be more than willing to just lick your wounds and move on, no matter how hard it hurt. But he never did. He never pulled away, or pushed you further from him. He just never pulled you closer, either. You were left in limbo, treading the line between friend and lover, never crossing to either side.

“What’s got you frowning like that?” You jump when you feel two fingers at the edges of your lips, gently forcing them into a smile. Ace is in front of you, nearly nose to nose, and you can see the candlelight dancing in his eyes and painting his cheeks a gentle orange. He looks beautiful, as always, as he grins at you. “That’s better. Now you try again without my help.”

You force your mouth into a smile despite yourself.

“There we go.” He laughs quietly, and you can feel his warm breath on your face. He’s horribly, unbearably close, close enough that you would barely have to move to feel his lips against yours. The urge is overwhelming, but you can’t let yourself, so you scoot back slightly, smile growing a bit shakier.

He frowns a bit, something unnamed flashing in his eyes, before he leans a little further back as well. “Care to share what made you so upset? You were glaring a hole into the table.”

“Oh it’s…it’s nothing big. Don’t worry about it.” You frankly would rather throw yourself overboard than look Ace in the eye that you were sitting here pathetically pining over him.

He frowns deeper. “You know you can always share with me, right? I’m a good listener, I swear.” A mocking laugh explodes behind him from a nearby eavesdropper, and he leans forward before muttering, “I’m good at listening to you, at least.”

Your cheeks heat. You don’t want to embarrass yourself like this, but he’s looking at you with those sweet puppy dog eyes, and maybe this could be a chance for you to finally figure out how he feels about you. “Well…it’s just…” your eyes slide to the several crewmates visibly listening in. “Can we talk in private?”

“Of course!” He’s on his feet instantly, offering you his hand to help you up. He pulls you up as though you weigh nothing, and while that makes your stomach flutter a bit, it’s nothing compared to the way he keeps a hold on your hand while leading you away. You can feel the heat radiating from him, every callus on his hand, the way his fingers lightly rub against the back of your hand. It takes all of your self control not to melt.

He leads you to his room, leading to wolf whistles from some passersby, and you internally groan at all of the comments you’re going to get after this. But he gently sets you on his bed before kicking off his boots and sitting next to you, on his knees, looking at you expectantly. “Is this good?”

“Yeah, thanks, Ace.” He gives a blinding smile at that, terribly pleased to have helped. “So I’ve been dealing with…an issue, lately.”

He nods, urging you onward.

“So there’s this guy…”

He winces, the expression so quick you almost miss it. 

“And I’ve been trying to figure out how he feels about me.” You curl in on yourself a little tighter. “But I genuinely can’t tell if he’s noticed how I feel and he just doesn’t…feel the same, or if he somehow doesn’t know.” This is terrifying, laying it all bare, but if it leaves a chance for something else, something better, isn’t it worth it to be brave?

But Ace remains silent. His face is frozen halfway between shock and despair, staring at you with wide eyes. You blink at him, confused, and gently reach forward to take his hand. “Ace?”

He flinches when you touch him. “Ah! Um, sorry. Advice. You wanted advice.”

“If you’re willing? You don’t have to.”

“No, I–I can.” He seems flustered, but you can’t really tell which part of this shook him. You try to brace yourself for oncoming rejection, just in case. “...You really don’t know if he feels the same?”

“I have absolutely no idea. And nobody else I’ve asked does, either.”

Another flash of hurt, the frown of a kicked puppy. “You went to other people before me?”

You rush to correct. “They came to me. I think they felt bad for me, honestly. The entire ship has noticed and they can’t tell if he likes me either, and a lot of people have been making fun of me about it. So a few people asked me if I was alright.”

He furrows his brow. “People have been making fun of you? Who?”

“Almost everyone, really. You didn’t notice?”

“No, I didn’t.” His expression shifts to something close to guilt. “How long has this been going on?”

“About…a year or so?”

“You only joined the crew a little more than a year ago.”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” You can’t keep the exhaustion from your tone. You want to say it hasn’t taken a toll on you, that you let it roll off your back, but the weight has been resting on your shoulders, dragging you further and further down. It’s only a matter of time before you snap entirely. “It’s…it’s a bit much, sometimes. But the only way to get them to stop is to stop trying to get him to notice me, and if I stop that he never will. And I think he’s worth all of it, really.”

“Hm. I’m…sure he is.” You can hear the sting in his voice, like cold water on an open wound. “He has to be, for you to want him so badly.”

“He’s the best man I’ve ever met.” You can’t keep the affection from your voice, or the warmth from your cheeks as you shyly peer at Ace through your lashes. You can’t place the faraway look in his eyes, hazy and unfocused.

“He better be.” He clenches his jaw briefly before relaxing it, closing his eyes and shutting you out. You see his fingers digging into his thighs as he turns away from you and takes a deep breath. “You should just tell him, I’m sure he’ll reciprocate. He’d be an idiot if he didn’t.” His voice is strained, sounding like there’s an unshakable weight on his chest.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart. Don’t worry about it. You should tell that bastard how you feel.”

“Bastard?”

You can see every muscle in his back tense as he continues to face away from you. “Did I say bastard? I meant lucky bastard.”

“It…doesn’t sound like you did.”

“How could he be anything less than lucky, to have someone like you?”

He really isn’t getting it. Even now, he just doesn’t fucking get it. “Are you mad at me, Ace? Or him, I guess?”

“I’m not mad,” he snaps, unconvincingly. “I’m not…I’m not upset. It would be ridiculous for me to be upset, I have no reason to be. Not with you, or with whoever it is. That would be silly. And I’m not. Silly.”

“...Right.”

Are you going to have to spell this out for him?

“And since I’m so definitely not-at-all mad, can I know who it is? So I know who to congratulate later.”

You sigh. “You really have no idea?”

“...I think I might have one.”

You lean forward a bit, trying to angle around him to look him in the eye, but you accidentally brush your chest with his back and he jumps, scrambling away before turning around to face you. “Who do you think it is, Ace?”

“Is it Marco?”

What?

“What?”

“Is it…is it not Marco?” He furrows his brow.

“I–no. It’s not Marco.”

“Thatch then?”

“No! Oh my god.”

“Izou? Or–”

“It’s you, Ace!”

His eyes go wide and he freezes. “It’s…me?”

“Yes.”

He absolutely lights up like a firework with the biggest, most sincere grin you’ve ever seen. “It’s me?” He leans forward, close enough that you can see every fleck of color in his dark eyes. “It’s me? Really? You mean it?”

“Who else could it possibly be?” You can’t keep the hint of laughter out of your voice at the idea you could love anybody but Ace, as though any man you had ever met could beat him for best. 

Before you know it, his arms are around you, his comforting weight pressing you into the bed beneath you. “I didn’t think it could ever be me.”

Your arms wrap around him in turn, pulling his head into your neck as he presses his nose into you. “Why couldn’t it be you? You’re amazing, Ace.”

“I can’t believe you believe that.” His voice is soft as he pulls himself apart for a second, allows himself to fall into your embrace and forget the world. “I didn’t think you could want me. I already didn’t get how you could like me, let alone more. You’re so…everything and I’m so…me.”

“I don’t think there’s anything in the world better to be than you.”

There’s a wetness pressing into your neck, but you don’t comment. “No one has ever said that to me before. I don’t…I don’t understand how I tricked you, but–”

“Portgas D Ace. You didn’t trick me. I just saw you for who you were, and I loved you because of it. Not in spite of it, not because I somehow didn’t see it. Because you’re you, and I don’t know what could be better than that.”

“Almost anything else?” He mutters it weakly. “I really hoped you would…would think about me like I think about you. I just didn’t think it was possible. Was it really that obvious?”

“Every single person on this ship knew before you did. Someone was making fun of me for it at breakfast, directly in front of you, and you still didn’t notice. It was really just because you didn’t think I could like you?”

“It genuinely didn’t seem like a possibility to me. I figured I was just going to be pining after you for the rest of my life, y’know? Have to see you find someone else as wonderful as you are and run off together, and pretend I was happy for you. Which I sort of would be, I guess. I want you to be happy. And I didn’t think I could do that for you.” He pulls out of your neck, and you can see his eyes are glistening, a few stray tears making their way down his freckled cheeks. He looks you in the eye, while his own filled with a strange mix of affection and self loathing. “Still don’t, really. But I’ll try.”

You cup his cheeks in your hands, gently brushing away his tears. “No one else could make me happier than you, Ace. I know that for sure. You are the kindest, brightest, most wonderful man I know. You have no idea how amazing you are, how you inspire the people around you. You’re so loved, and it’s not because you managed to pull the wool over everybody’s eyes, or anything silly like that. It’s because you deserve it.” You lean up, lips brushing softly against his before you pull back again to speak. His lips chase yours, making you giggle. “You deserve every bit of it, Ace. And if you don’t believe me I’ll just have to show you. Every day, until it sticks.”

“And if it does?” His voice is nothing but a whisper as he stares at you like you’re the greatest treasure on the seas. “Will you stop if it sticks?”

“No way in hell. I’ll double down. Triple down, even.”

He gives you a shy grin. “Guess I’ll have to figure out the truth pretty fast, then. I’d like to see what double this looks like.

“I guess you will.”

The next kiss takes your breath away. It makes the teasing you and Ace are sure to receive when you leave the cabin worth it a million times over. But right now there isn’t a crew jeering at you. The only thing in the world right now is Ace, on top of you, his warmth enveloping you as he kisses you like he’s been waiting a thousand years to do it.

[lonely-cowboy]

HEY HEY CAN I REQUEST ANYTHING FLUFFY W CONNOR X FEM READER

YOU WORK IS SO GOODDD

MY DARLINGS FORGIVE ME

requests started coming in hot right as i started my midterms so pls forgive me for taking so long to get through my requests (which i'm loving btw i'm so excited to get to all of them)

with that being said i'll stop yapping and let you read in peace

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

framed

pairing: connor (rk800) x f!reader

summary: you're very confused when you find a photograph of yourself on connor's desk.

word count: 1k

warnings: none

author's note: i said i'm done yapping and i mean it i have nothing to say. (except i do wanna say this was inspired by the person that said my connor was very you are in love coded bc that made me happy and got me thinking)

masterlist ⟡ requests

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“What do androids do in their free time, anyway?”

“Plot against humanity? I dunno.”

Hank’s laugh came out in a quiet huff, one that indicated he didn’t think your answer was too far from the truth. 

You had come into the precinct hoping to interview Hank and Connor on their latest investigation surrounding a human cult determined to wipe out every single android. As head journalist for the Detroit Free Press, you were desperate to get word before everyone else. And as Connor’s friend, you were sure you could sweet-talk it out of him. 

But when you got to the precinct, Connor was, strangely, nowhere to be found. Usually, he trailed behind Hank like a lost puppy, but not even Hank knew of Connor’s whereabouts. His unusual absence only led to conversations about what the hell an android could be doing on his lonesome. Neither of you had any clue.

“Have a seat, kid,” Hank offered, nudging his chin over to Connor’s desk. “You know he’d feel bad if you were standin’ around waiting for him.” 

Rounding the table, you took a seat in Connor’s chair. You sat stiffly with your hands atop your thighs, the exact same way Connor would. The realization made you chuckle softly to yourself. Even when he wasn’t here, his presence always made itself known in the subtlest of ways.

Your eyes wandered across Connor’s desk, noticing that it was relatively barren. Hank’s desk was littered with mementos– old donut boxes, Detroit Gears merchandise, anti-android propaganda that he’d crumpled up and intended to trash. But Connor’s desk was plain and organized. A single blue pen sat exactly parallel to his recent case file that had been neatly folded. On top of his case file was a quarter like the one he always fidgeted with. You wondered idly how many quarters he had lying around, having never seen him without one. But the only belonging of actual interest was a picture frame right beside his terminal.

Your brows furrowed as your gaze latched onto the photograph. You were staring directly at a picture of yourself.

Believing it to be a trick of the light, you reached for the picture frame and brought it closer. Sure enough, it was you.  

You stared at a version of yourself who was mid-laugh. You could almost hear your own laughter ringing in your ears. It was that genuine kind of laughter, you knew. The kind that was an obnoxious cackle you always wanted to hide. Why on earth would Connor have a picture like that framed?

Come to think of it, where did Connor even get this picture? You didn’t recognize it at all. You couldn’t even place where it was taken. There were zero clues in the photograph as you were the only focus. Nothing else, just you.

You were about to ask Hank about it when a voice over your shoulder startled you, “I really like that picture.”

An inhuman yelp escaped your lips as you spun around in Connor’s chair. You found him looking down at you with a pleasant smile, not even remotely embarrassed to be caught having a photo of you.

“Why… what even… what?” you stammered.

Connor cocked his head curiously, waiting for you to get your words out. But you couldn’t. You were so utterly confused that your brain couldn’t remember a single word in existence. You just stared at Connor with a gaping mouth, holding the picture up for his viewing pleasure. 

When you didn’t say anything, Connor’s eyebrows furrowed for only a moment before easing. An endearing habit of his that made your heart flutter. He definitely was not helping you find the right words. 

“I’d like to clear your confusion as best I can, but… I’m afraid I don’t understand its cause,” Connor said gently.

From behind, you heard Hank’s quiet snort. He wasn’t helping either.

“Well… Connor,” you started slowly like you were gradually putting the puzzle pieces together. No matter how hard you tried, the pieces weren’t fitting. “Why do you have a picture of me?”

The corners of his lips raised into a small grin, his hands moving to clasp in front of him. You knew this stance to mean he was about to tell a story.

“I asked Lieutenant Anderson about the keepsakes on his desk. I was curious as to why these particular items were objects of significance and what classified them as such,” Connor explained cheerfully. “As I recall, he said ‘I don’t know, they’re just alright, I guess.’ Perhaps my interpretation was incorrect, but I took that to mean those items made him happy.”

Connor’s smile widened slightly. That meant he was finished. He didn’t clear any of your confusion.

“Okay…?” you prompted.

“I wanted to do something similar. I thought it could help me accommodate to deviancy, so I decided to surround myself with things that make me happy.”

Your mouth clamped shut as your confused look turned to one of shock. You were almost sure you hadn’t heard him right, but another laugh (hidden behind a cough) from Hank made you confident that you had.

“I… make you happy?” you clarified.

“Yes,” Connor answered curtly. There was another long pause as you waited for Connor to continue. He seemed to get the hint by now, elaborating further. “I always enjoy your company. I look forward to seeing you when we have scheduled plans. This wasn’t a scheduled visit, so I was pleased to see you were here. It made me smile. Seeing you makes me smile.”

With all his talk of smiling, you couldn’t help cracking one of your own. Seeing your smile made Connor brighten.

“Like that,” he said. “If I could photograph and frame you right now, I would.”

You were so giddy with affection that you couldn’t help but laugh. You had never known Connor to be so poetic with his words.

“You know, Connor,” you said with careless laughter. “I came here to sweet-talk you into an interview for the Press. But here you are sweet-talking me.”

Connor looked pleased with himself, standing a little straighter. “I hope that made you smile.”

“It certainly did.”

[princessbrunette]

if anyone understands having a tricky relationship with their father, it’s nate archibald. ౨ৎ

somethin small i wrote abt nate bc a few people asked. cw: daddy kink, daddy issues, smut

that distant stare of yours, that pout as you stare out over the city from his apartment window. he knows it all too well. approaches you softly with a slight sympathetic pout of his own, running a hand over your head and bringing your cheek to his chest so he can kiss the top of your head. he couldn��t give you a better father, but he could give you that guidance and love you crave so much. he could do better.

so he gives you everything — you want that dress costing an arm and a leg? it’s already hanging in your side of the closet at his apartment. you too sleepy as you sit at the kitchen table in the morning after a long night with him? he’s forking up a perfect biteful of pancake and bringing it to your lips with a grin, happy to do so. he never gets mad when you snap at him, something deeper clearly triggering such a sudden reaction— only frowning and shaking his head, closing in on you to thumb at your cheek. “whats with the attitude? somethings on your mind. talk to me.” he coo’s empathetically.

it’s not just you that noticed— blair’s smug but somewhat gleeful smile as she totters alongside nate on the street, nudging him with a sharp elbow through her maison margiela coat. “well, you know how thrilled i am for you to finally be tugging along a girl of taste. even if i have to watch you treat her like you snatched her from the cradle yourself.”

he huffs out a laugh, shooting her a confused glance, walking alongside her with his hands in his pockets. “what are you talking about? she’s like one year younger than me. nearly two.”

“age isn’t nothing but a number, nate— i’m talking about the coddling, tell me — does she call you daddy in just the bedroom or do you extend that to all hours of the day?”

“jesus— need i remind you of boundaries blair, what i do with my girlfriend is none of your business… but— no, she doesn’t call me that.”

but it stayed bouncing around his brain like a ping pong ball. started noticing all the little things, how much more you’d cling to him after an argument with your father. selfishly, he almost started wishing you’d fight more— just so he could dote on you like that. the whole ‘daddy’ thing wouldn’t be so weird right? the thought of it had him reaching down to readjust in his tight suit pants, clearing his throat. uncomfortable? yes. but sexy, crazily so.

maybe he could milk it out of you. enforce a little more guidance until you’re putty in his hand. it wouldn’t be hard, he saw the way you’d blink at him all doe eyed when he’d tell you not to stay up too late, both thumbs stroking your cheeks. he’d speak slower, calmer, stand closer, make him the only thing you can see, think about even. he was gentle, loving, held eye contact super well — too well, made your face get hot and wanna look away. made you wanna shrink, go all mushy in your brain. “hey, look at me when i talk to you sweetheart. i don’t bite, you know.” he smiles, and there’s no threat present but god you’d never disobey him. never your nate.

it finally slips out when he’s got your thighs pinned open, strong arms wrapped around them whilst he sucks on your clit. he was always good at that, making you cum. nate knew just how to destress you after a long stressful day, far too stressful for his sweet girl. he laps you up, pressing thick fingers deep inside gummy walls, dribbling over your slit.

“nnnnnn—” you can’t even get his name out, clutching a pink throw pillow.

“i know, baby.” he hums.

“daddy!” you cry, and he doesn’t even bat an eyelid as if he was expecting it. if you’d been more with it, you would have seen him bite back a proud chuckle, shoulders relaxing just a little. he keeps at it, stroking the inside of your sensitive thighs.

“thats right. tell daddy how it feels.”

[miniimight]

Hellooo! Could you please write for the boys where the reader is sick but doesn't tell them bcs she doesn't wanna bother them?? I love your your blog sm 💙💙

HIDING YOUR SICKNESS ! reader doesn't wanna bother her boyfriend

with izuku, bakugo, rody + fem!reader (pro hero era)

notes thanks for the request anon !!

you: hey i don't think i can make our date tonight... i'm sorry, something came up

he frowned when he got the text. he pinched the bridge of his nose and his overthinking kicked in. you'd been distancing yourself a lot recently... between you spending all your time at someone else's place, having to postpone dates, and his hero work, you barely got to see each other.

he was worried. he pressed the call button and waited for you to pick up.

IZUKU

"hello? y/n?"

you folded from the concern in his voice. he was always going to be worried about you, no matter what you tried to do.

"izuku..." you rasped and you could tell he was taken aback.

"what's wrong, honey?" he said softly. "you don't sound too good..."

you bit your lip. oh, what the hell. he was going to find out anyway. "i'm just a little sick, that's all. i can handle—"

"sick?!" izuku exclaimed and you shied away from his volume. "my love, you should have told me."

"no, it's really okay—"

"how long have you felt this way? is this why you've been postponing our dates? where are you right now?" he ignored your protests and rambled on with more questions for a bit. you weakly answered them all.

"okay, sweetheart, i'm on my way." you could hear him huffing as you assumed he leapt across rooftops. "stay on call..."

a burden was lifted off your shoulders, and the relief made you fall asleep right then and there.

later—though how much later, you didn't know—you blinked the sleep out of your eyes. groaning, you stretched your arms and propped your body up with your elbows.

"oh, you're awake. lay down, love."

you tuned into izuku's voice, squinting through your daze. he was sitting at your bedside, a wet rag in his hand. he shushed you when you tried to ask him all your questions, gently laying the rag across your forehead and kissing your heated cheek.

"you had a fever, honey." izuku hummed, pulling the chair closer to the bed and leaning over the side. "you shouldn't have been under all those stuffy blankets."

you frowned and looked around. the windows were open, the curtains flowing as fresh air filtered in. it was true, you did feel a little less suffocated.

you pursed your lips, feeling guilty. "i'm sorry."

he was absolutely bewildered. "what could you possibly be sorry for?"

you sniffed, rubbing your eyes. "you were at work, right? and..."

izuku softened, stroking your temples with understanding. "it's never an issue for me to take care of you, love. don't be sad. just relax and let me handle everything, okay? i'm here now, to take care of you."

BAKUGO

"where are you and why have you been avoiding my calls?"

you pressed your lips into a thin line. straight to the point, as usual. "i'm... i'm staying at a friend's for the time being." you tried to speak evenly, without any tiredness.

you heard bakugo sigh deeply. "what's the matter, baby? and don't think about hidin' anything from me."

you groaned internally, letting your head drop against the mattress. you mumbled.

"what was that?"

you flared up, heat overwhelming your body. "i'm sick! okay?! i'm so sick right now."

he didn't respond.

you sighed. "i didn't want you to catch anything or worry about it. i can handle it and i'll be back in no time."

he scoffed. "fuck that. i'm coming to get you."

"kat, really—?!"

"yes, really!" you heard faint explosions in the background. "seriously, thinking you can recover on your own when you can't even speak properly." he chuckled.

you wanted to retort, but your throat burned. hmph, you thought. you let yourself drift asleep, feeling comforted.

later, you woke up in his bed to the sound of clanking pots in the kitchen. brows furrowed, you groaned as you stretched, your body buzzing after you let yourself drop into the plush mattress once more.

bakugo peeked into the room. "you're up. good. you need to eat." with an apron on, he placed an assortment of dishes in front of you; soup, fruits, and some cough drops for later.

you sat up a little, startled when his hand pressed against your forehead.

"you have a fever." he shook his head, disappointed. "you probably made it a little worse, isolating yourself under all those sheets. you were overheated when i got you."

you pouted, taking a sip of water.

he craned his neck to meet your eyes, thinking you'd be relieved being home and in his care. you clearly had something on your mind. "baby..." he held your hand. "jus' tell me what's on your mind."

you met his eyes briefly before looking away. "i... didn't want you to miss work for this."

"this matters more than paperwork." he rolled his eyes, a soft smile on his face. he squeezed your hands. "just eat up and rest up. i'll handle everything else."

RODY

"y/n?"

"nope!" his little sister, lala, chirped. "it's me!"

during his last layover, he hadn't been getting much of a response from you. he trusted you with everything, but he was worried. now that he was back in otheon, he was ready to figure out what the hell was going on.

he chuckled at his sister. you must've given her your phone to play her favorite game. "hey, lala. where's y/n, do you know?"

"she's sleeping now." rody could hear her breathing as she pattered over to where he assumed you were laying down. "sleeping like a log."

"yeah?" rody responded, deep in thought. it wasn't like you to sleep while looking after his siblings, so he knew something was wrong. "what was she doing before she fell asleep?"

"uhhh... she made lunch for us?" lala sniffed. "i feel bad, though."

rody's eyebrows creased, tugging a suitcase behind him as he unconsciously walked faster. "why's that?"

"she's got a mask on, and she doesn't want us too close to her..." lala sighed. "and she's burning up."

rody put the pieces together. he raced to the carpark and zoomed on home, bursting through the door.

the loud noise startled you out of your slumber, sitting upright. the abrupt motion made you dizzy and you groaned. lala pat your shoulder, concerned.

rody dropped his suitcase to the ground, kneeling at your side. slipping off his gloves, he pressed his hand to the side of your neck.

"seriously, babe, you should've told me when you started feeling off." he frowned, bustling about to grab you the things you needed. "i could've left any time."

your eyes were glassy when you looked at him, and he felt his heart twisting. "m'sorry," you mumbled from behind the mask. "i didn't want to bother you..."

he scoffed and pulled the mask off your face, squishing your cheeks. he looked you square in the eye. though he was scolding you, he was so soft and gently. "you never bother me. all i think about is you, lala, and roro. i want to know everything you're feeling, no matter what."

you smiled, looking lopsided as your face was still in his hands. "okay."

he grinned and kissed you.

"ugh!" you recoiled, scooching away from him. "rody! you'll get sick!"

he crossed his arms, smiling. "and? we can be in that boat together."

you rolled your eyes. "oh my god."

"aw, don't be like that, baby." rody cuddled up next to you, peppering you with affection. "come on, let me take care of you."

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[twitchmattentusiast]

CAN YOU PLEASEEE write a chris angst where he forgets about a date he planned with his gf and he’s seen out with like influencers and stuff and the reader gets sad cause she’s like “he forgot about our date but can go to a party?” and then she’s like it seems this has been happening for ages now like he’s putting them before her so maybe they break up and then he grovels to get her back

꩜ .ᐟ SECOND CHOICE, - christopher sturniolo.

the rain tapped softly against the window, filling the quiet apartment. you sat on the couch, staring at the candle flickering on the table. the dinner you made hours ago sat untouched, your phone in your lap showing chris’s last message:

“can’t wait for tonight, baby. love you.”

that was hours ago. no texts. no calls. nothing.

sighing, you scrolled through Instagram, only to feel your heart drop when you saw chris at a party, smiling with influencers, drink in hand. he’d forgotten.

tears pricked at your eyes as the realization sank in. he forgot about our date but made it to a party.

this wasn’t the first time. lately, it felt like he was always choosing them over you. every plan you made was overshadowed by another event or someone else’s demands.

the door creaked open. “baby?” chris’s voice was light, like nothing was wrong. “i’m sorry i’m late, there was this thing—”

“you forgot,” you interrupted, your voice flat. you didn’t turn around.

chris’s smile faltered. “what?”

“our date,” you said quietly, still not looking at him. “the one we planned. you didn’t even text.”

guilt washed over his face. “shit, i didn’t mean to. i got caught up, and—”

“you didn’t even think about it,” you cut him off, finally turning to face him. “you never think about me anymore. it’s always about parties, events, everyone else.”

“that’s not fair,” he said defensively. “i’ve been busy—this is my job.”

“i know,” you said bitterly. “but it feels like they’re more important than i am. i just wanted one night, chris. one night where I didn’t have to wonder if i still mattered.”

chris stepped closer, his voice softening. “you do matter. you know you do.”

“do I?” you asked, your voice cracking. “because it doesn’t feel like it. not anymore.”

he reached out, desperation in his eyes. “please, don’t do this. we can fix it—”

“i-i dont think we can,” you whispered, backing away. “i don’t want to keep coming second.”

chris’s face fell. “wait—please. i’ll make it right. i promise.”

but you shook your head, walking past him, the door closing softly behind you as his voice, full of regret, echoed in the silence.

everyone buckle up bc im going to introduce grieving bf chris !

[hazelfoureyes]

before i never really interacted with blogs(cuz anxiety and very toxic friends had my tumblr, who ive gotten rid of now) but now i literally interact with every post bc of you, you are god and i will worship you, your smut is poetic af and has my legs SHAKING(.literally.)

i am ON MY KNEES❗

also, alastor and his rivals(vox or lucifer) x reader smut? like i know alastor would be petty asf and have them watch as he fucks the living out of their beloved, im curious, do you have any ideas regarding that?(cuz your ideas are delicious and im hungry for that)

You’ve left me speechless which is quite the accomplishment, Darling. I am just a little goblin! Or like the tooth fairy, but instead of teeth I take praise and instead of money I leave filthy smut 🥺 I am so glad you removed the toxic friends and are interacting more. 💖 you deserve better and your interactions are a joy. Thank you for brightening my day! I am so far away and yet you’ve got me blushing like a fool.

oooh yes okay so! Here’s some ideas 👀

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊👑₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

Energy for me is Lucifer: Here to please. Alastor: Here to win. I imagine Luci brings you to the hotel for Charlie’s Birthday party, already having a precious casual fling once or twice before. All the guests are there, everyone is dancing and drinking and having a good time. Alastor notices how you call him Luci, how Lucifer cant keep his cool when you lean closer to him when you speak. Naturally, Alastor sees an opportunity to fuck with Lucifer so he asks for a dance. He is uncharacteristically sweet and loving, willing to do anything to get under the king of hell’s skin. He changes the music to something slow, holding you close he whispers in your ear during your dance, “How can any man maintain composure around you? I feel my manners slipping through my fingers every time you look my way.” When you leave the party to cool down, Alastor follows, finding you in an empty room trying to decompress. “Would you hate me if I kissed you? Be forewarned, once I start, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop…”

Lucifer walks in to see you absolutely melting under Alastor, lipstick smeared and face flushed. But Luci adores you, your pleasure is his pleasure and he’s compelled to stay and watch, even as Alastor makes you moan and scream his name. “Who do you belong to, sweetheart?” “Whose cock are you made for?” You’re reduced to incoherent babbling by the time Alastor is finished toying with Lucifer. Lucifer can’t take it anymore and finds himself crawling onto the bed to swallow your moans and shower you in praise.

•───⋅⋆⁺‧₊🖥️₊‧⁺⋆⋅───•

I can see Vox bringing his beloved personal assistant to an overlord meeting for note taking, and Alastor notices your glances to him. Vox adores you, and is always on his best behavior around you to impress you. Alastor waits for you outside of Vee Tower that night for a “chance run in”. “What luck! Allow me to buy you a drink, as a welcome to hell.” Charms you as any good southern boy could, and suggests you both go back to your office for privacy. Knowing full well Vox has cameras all over the office, Alastor fucks Vox’s assistant on his desk while maintaining eye contact with the massive collection of screens there. Vox catches sight of this while skimming through the feeds but can’t break away from the video. Alastor keeps your back to the displays while bouncing you on his cock, smirking at Vox the entire time as he leans back on his desk chair. Vox is seething and finally rushes to his office to find Alastor gone and you lying on your back, still out of breath and cum dripping onto the desk.

Vox keeps you, but gets rid of the desk. He can’t let Alastor have the satisfaction of making him lose his prized employee. For weeks after, while zoning out in board meetings, his screen flashes images of Alastor smirking from over your shoulder as you ride him. He’s entirely unaware that it’s happening and everyone is too scared to tell him.

[munsster]

rockstar standards

A/N: PLS PLS PLS DROP SUGGESTIONS FOR HOCKEY STEVE/EDDIE im having a total brainfart but i need to break into the hockey au game bc i love it 😻 (gif creds: @cuntyarmand)

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, 90s AU

Summary: Corroded Coffin starts to gain some traction, and you can't help feeling stranded. 1.5k words

Warnings: minor angst/hurt comfort, fluff, pining, pet names (bug, sweetheart, sweets, baby), jealousy, undressed cuddling,

You watch him parade around the stage every Friday night. Sometimes he's playing the home stage, other times he books random amphitheaters and dive bars. But today, he's drenched in purple light on the outskirts of Chicago. It's by far the biggest venue Corroded Coffin has played. You sit by the pop up bar, but bodies are packed like sardines in this place. It's hot and loud, but it's worth it to see him so elated.

Even through his streaky eyeliner, you can tell he's adoring the attention of the pit. You can see their red fingernails and shiny tank tops and free flowing hair. You never thought Eddie would be the kinda thing you were attracted to. You also know he's not the kinda guy to be attracted to something like you. You know guys like Eddie usually go for the Pam Andersons and Courtney Loves. The Party girls. Not the ones who have nothing better to do on a Saturday night than watch a romcom alone.

That Sunday, Eddie pulls onto your street. It's late and he has a ringing headache. He couldn't think of anything better to do after touching down in Hawkins again. You'd headed home the night before, and it made his gut wrench knowing he wouldn't get to see you the rest of the weekend.

Your door creaks open, and he's smiling on the other side. He's already leaning against your doorway with the bouquet he bought earlier from the woman selling them on the corner.

"Missed you, bug," he huffs, "Can I come in?"

You step aside without another word, and he hangs his leather jacket on the coat rack like always. Something feels off when he sits on the couch to find you're on the complete opposite side from him. Usually, you're not shy about cuddling up beside him to watch a movie or share snacks or just talk.

He frowns and scoots closer, leaning in to grab at your ankle playfully. You kick his hand away, brow set hard above your lethal glare.

"Sweetheart," he huffs, tilting his head in confusion, "What's going on? Where's my cuddlebug?"

"I dunno, somewhere in Hollywood?"

His eyes nearly pop out of his head at that. You're his favorite girl and you know that. So why're you grilling him now.

"Tell me what's goin' on. What did I miss?"

And you look serious, too. This isn't some running joke he missed out on while he was away. He's not sure who bruised your confidence, but he's sure he'd like to have a few words with them. He hates the way your lip wobbles and your eyes avoid him cause it gives you away. That's how he knows you're heartbroken.

"Eddie," you whine, swiping a hasty tear from your cheek. "I just don't know why you keep me around when you could have any of those girls at your bon vivant gigs."

"Fuck is that supposed to mean, bug?" He barks it out on accident, sitting back on his haunches with a scowl. "I'm sorry, but there's no way I'm gettin’ rid of you."

"Eddie, please... you're gonna make it big and get shipped off to Tinseltown, and I'll still be here, teddy. Probably being someone's lonely, suburban housewife. It's what I'm made for, and that's not what you want."

"You're wrong."

"And maybe you should go," you whisper, choking back a sob and standing from the couch.

"No, sweets, you're wrong," he says, standing and striding over to you, "You've got me wrong, and you've got you wrong."

You cross your arms over your chest and finally look him in the eye.

"'S that so?"

"Yeah," he tuts. And he has the most charming, most dastardly smile you've ever seen, flashing his canines like a gentle killer. "'Cause I'm gonna take you with me."

"Teddy."

"Nope, I'm takin' you with me wherever I go, and there's nothin' you can say to change my mind. Even if you hate my music forever, fine, I'll fix you up in a nice five star anywhere we go. You can sit and watch all the movies you like. You'll be nobody's housewife, baby, 'cause I'm keepin' you."

You roll your eyes, batting away tears when he grabs your hand to pull you back to the couch.

"And what if I said that's not what I want?" you suggest, testing his rockstar resolve with your big, wet eyes and stubborn quips.

"Then I'll give you somethin' else. Anything else. But you're mine no matter what." If only you knew how proud it made him to call you his girl. To know you support him even if you don't love his genre.  "Now, would you come closer? You're killin' me."

You obey with a frigid pout, letting him drape your thighs over his and brush his ring clad paws over your cheeks, down your neck.

"But what about your groupies and the pretty girls at the bars or in the front row?"

"What about 'em?" he says, just barely shaking his head, "I'll have somethin' way better waiting for me."

You chuckle. "You're crazy."

He cocks a brow. "Old news."

When he notices how close you've gotten, he smiles. Your manicured nails graze over his chest with the only light washing over you from the dimly lit kitchen. He can't resist his palm curling behind your neck, pulling you close for a sweet kiss.

"Where d'you keep your vases?" he mumbles, remembering the tulips resting on the little table.

"Kitchen. Above the fridge," you say with your fingers already slotting between his to pull him towards the warm light. He loves you like this: sickly sweet and tender, holding him all gentle in your hot pulse. You go to reach for a painted ceramic vase, but he wraps his arm around you and turns you away.

"Ah ah ah, drop it, sweetheart. That’s my job," he says against your temple, holding the lip of the vase and patting your ass. He takes the bouquet from your grasp and sets both on the counter by the sink. You hand him a pair of scissors and he carefully snips the stems jagged, filling the vase with water.

His stomach flips when you wrap your arms around his waist and clasp your hands at his belt. He sets the prepared arrangement aside and turns in your embrace.

"All done," he says wickedly, palming your face with his wet hands. You jump back with a squeal, pelting a dish rag at this chest.

"Use a towel, you slob!"

He chuckles and wipes his hands on his shirt, tossing the towel over his shoulder and leering at you like he's starved.

"Come here," he mumbles. You go a little shy under his gaze, dropping your head and shuffling towards his presence. He catches you by the hips, dipping down to catch your mouth in a prying kiss. You grin against him and he groans, tugging you tight against his body.

"Always love how soft you are, baby. Surprises me every time." He shakes his wild mane and purses his lips for you to kiss this time.

"Where d'you want the flowers?" he says.

"Bedroom?"

His eyes light up involuntarily, and he grabs the vase, bounding off towards your room gleefully. You jog to catch up with him, and when you enter the threshold, he's expertly positioning the vase next to a stack of books on your dresser.

"Much cleaner than mine," he says, gesturing around the room, "You keep it nice in here."

You shrug. "Could be cleaner."

"You can never see mine," he teases, knowing full well you already have. He slings his arms low on your hips, adoring you in the blue light of dusk. "Can I undress you?"

You bow your head and whisper, "teddy..."

"Not like that. Just wanna hold you."

You kiss his slanted mouth sweetly, nodding.

He reaches for the edge of your soft cotton dress, pulling it up and over your head. He whistles low upon seeing your undergarments, whipping his shirt off and onto the floor somwhere. You giggle, helping him with his belt buckle. He traces your temple with his lips leaving kisses along the way. He steps out of his jeans and lets you lead him around the bed.

His curls sprawl out against your pillows, and he welcomes you into his side with a lazy smile. Your reach to touch his waist and softly feel over the scar below his ribs.

"Little tender, bug," he hisses. You bat your eyes up at him scared, pulling your hand away.

"I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "No, please," he whispers, cradling your wrist, his eyes locked with yours. He draws the hair away from your neck, replacing it with his fingers to dance down along your spine. You’re warmer than he’s ever felt before and thankful for it. His hands are cold, but he doesn’t have to worry about it for very long when you bring each fingertip to your lips for a kiss.

“You’re my girl, alright? Always,” he whispers and you nod, “always.”

masterlist

[jujutsubaby]

🫧 skin care daddy 🫧

☆ pairing: satoru gojo x afab!reader ☆ summary: your skin's been breaking out recently and you're stressed at work and you have your sister's wedding to attend in a week. according to the internet, this is the best spa in town, and you're lowkey desperate at this point...it can't be that bad right? ☆ tags: modern au ☆ warnings: penetrative sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!recieving), facial, dirty talk, fingering, flicking the bean?? idk ☆ a/n: guys i swear i am cooking in the kitchen with the asks from my follower event AND other shit OK!! sorry for the wait on everything but here is a little crumb bc i love u all!! i was feeling unhinged bc i saw two things: 1) a spa called skin care daddy and 2) a post or one shot where the reader got a facial from gojo and it cleared her skin. idk i just felt inspired to make this bc it felt the universe was asking me to. not proofread some plot with corn u know the vibes babes xx ☆ word count: 7k+

"sorry, we're all booked for this weekend and the next. we usually recommend that our customers book 3 weeks in advance for our services at the ritz carlton luxury spa." the lady on the other end of the line was objectively speaking very politely, but you were far too frustrated with your situation to notice.

"great, yeah, no, thanks." you say quickly, hanging up the phone and groaning into your pillow.

"no luck at the ritz?" you turn to face your best friend, nobara.

"they're all booked, what a surprise!" you say sarcastically, your voice still slightly muffled by the pillow.

"i mean, c'mon, y/n. your face is not that bad..." nobara tries and deeply fails to comfort you, making you chuckle half heartedly.

you get up from your bed and walk over to the full body mirror of your closet in order to get up close and personal with your face. your fingers stretch on the skin around your breakouts as you study them with determination, as if just willing them to be gone will do the trick. it doesn't.

"it's bad enough that all the aunties will say something snarky to me all day."

you're usually one to always follow through on your skincare routine, am and pm, and watch what you eat carefully so that you don't get breakouts. but you recently went through a rough patch (read: a hellish period) and your face took the brunt of the damage. it wasn't your fault you were having massive cramps and craved hot cheetos the entire week (it was so worth it) but now, a week before your sister's wedding, you're facing the consequences.

you sigh. the ritz was the fifth place you guys called that didn't have any space for an all day facial, but you couldn't run out of hope. back to the drawing board.

you open up your laptop and get back to searching on google maps, as nobara does the same thing. you're grateful she's helping you out during your, albeit, dumb crisis, but what are girl friendships for? a spa you've never heard of before suddenly catches your eye and you zoom in. skin care daddy? you read the finer print underneath it. best day spa in tokyo.

you snort. best day spa in tokyo my ass. if it really was the best day spa in tokyo, why have you never heard of it?

nobara laughs, almost on cue. "wait, dude, are you seeing this spa?" she turns her phone around and you see she's also looking at skin care daddy. "this has to be a joke, right? no way would they be allowed to open up a spa named that, right?"

"ohmygod, i was just looking at that!" you say excitedly. "it literally sounds like a sex bot made it for unsuspecting horny losers to click on and get like, a crazy virus." you both laugh at how ridiculous this place sounds.

nobara's laugh almost abruptly stops as she scrolls down the place. "wait, stop. this place has like...over ten thousand reviews and a 4.9 star rating..."

you immediately click on the place and take a closer look at the reviews and ratings and see she's right. "i don't think i've ever seen a place have this many reviews with consistent ratings?" your brows scrunch as you read aloud some of the top reviews.

"this spa has given me the some of the best facials of my life. i always come to this spa whenever i'm in the area, and the people working there are obsessed with taking care of their customers. 10/10" you're baffled by the review sounding so...weird but you think nothing of it. you make a mental note that you are kinda desperately looking for a miracle facial to help with your breakouts, so maybe you shouldn't count this place out just yet.

nobara half heartedly scoffs as she reads the next one. "i've had chronic acne and back pain for years until i saw someone from here who made me feel soo good. you'll be coming here all the time once you go. maybe even multiple times a day."

"how good can this place be if you have to go multiple times to make sure your spa treatment worked?" you say, rolling your eyes at these reviews. "these can't be real right?"

"they sound incentivized or like someone paid them to write it or somethin'" nobara surmises.

"maybe it's a cult or something," you say, causing both of you to double over in laughter.

"a cult disguised as a spa is a bit too insane, even for tokyo." nobara says as she scrolls through and skims more reviews. "aren't you looking for a facial anyway? everyone's saying they're really good here...you know...despite the..." she gestures with her hands the reviews on her phone.

"ugh, am i for real that desperate for clear skin that i'm willing to go to a shady ass day spa?" you roll on to your back on your bed and stare at the ceiling, contemplating.

"can't be that shady if it's ten thousand reviews. say what you want but that's a lot of reviews to pay money for."

nobara has a point. you grab your laptop and try to look for a link to their website and see they don't have a website. interesting. not a red flag but just interesting. maybe i have to call for bookings? you search for a phone number, but fail to find one.

"wait, are you able to find any contact for this spa?" you ask noabra and you see her squinting her eyes at the phone.

"no i wasn't but i saw a review that basically said this spa is a walk-in type of deal?"

"it's a walk-in but has thousands of reviews? how does that even work? people are probably waiting years in line to get in?"

"dunno," nobara shrugs, and puts her phone back in her pocket. "maybe it's like a 'if-you-know-you-know' type of thing so it's like popular through word of mouth of somethin'"

damn. even more shady, then. you chew on your lip and stare at the ceiling again, trying to imagine all the things your aunties will say to you at the wedding.

"27 and still unmarried? shame."

"oh, you really need to watch your diet, the breakouts will never go away otherwise."

"clear skin is the first step to find a man who will desire you, y/n."

you feel like your skin is burning thinking about the so-called "advice" you're likely to receive at the wedding. normally you wouldn't care, but your hormones have been kind of out of wack with the new birth control you started recently, and you're not sure if you can really take any form of bullshit other than your sister's this weekend.

your thoughts are interrupted by nobara getting up from your chair. "alright, i'm off to work. need a ride to skin care daddy?"

"yeah, actually," you say as you slowly get out of your bed and change our of your pajamas.

"wait, what?!" nobara says with wide eyes. "i was actually joking when i said that. are you seriously gonna go? y/n, i dunno about this one..."

"c'mon! it's like you said, it's weird but it's not necessarily shady..." you say, mostly trying to convince yourself as you put on a pair of your favorite lazy girl black flared yoga pants.

nobara seems to consider it for a moment before responding. "kay, fine. but if i take you there and it's some abandoned warehouse-"

"then we'll drive away. no way in hell i'm about to die for this place." you assure nobara, putting her at ease.

you quickly don a thrifted gray hoodie and put your hair up in a messy bun. you don't care to put on any makeup, since you're probably gonna have to take it off anyway. if the day spa isn't shady and in an abandoned warehouse.

you quickly grab your keys and wallet before gesturing to nobara to leave. she sighs, looking at her phone one more time.

"fuck it, let's go before i change my mind."

"okay it says it's just right around the corn-"

"OH MY GOD?!" you're unable to hold back your disbelief as nobara took the corner to, what you think, might the chicest and prettiest boutique you've ever laid eyes on. the front was adorned with a gorgeous light blue awning with european style bell-shaped pendant lights making it almost glow during the day time.

"what the hell...ain't no way..." noabra is at a loss for words for how fancy it looks. "they have the money to rent out a place like this but no website?"

"or have a phone number." you mumble as you open nobara's car door. you turn around and give her a quick wave. she tells you to give her a call and tell her how it is after and you promise to do so. as nobara drives off, all the skepticism evaporates from your body looking at the dainty and cute decor all over the place.

you walk in to a fairly large lobby, with a desk in the middle and waiting chairs surrounding it. the calming scent of lavender, green tea, and patchouli hits your nose, and your guard immediately drops; the aroma relaxes you almost instantly.

you look around and are surprised to see only two other women in the waiting chairs on their phone. one of them seemed older, kind of like a mother, and the other seemed to be your age, but far more demure.

"hey, there! welcome to skin care daddy! we're determined to take care of you all your needs, no matter what! how can i help you today?" your head whips around to the guy sitting at the reception desk, and you feel a bit embarrassed; he must've noticed how lost you looked here, and you force yourself to straighten up and regain your composure as you slowly walk to the front desk. you take a closer at the guy with shaggy black hair sitting in the chair in front of you.

"hi..." you squint to see the faint print on his name badge. "yuta".

"yup! that's me!" he chirps. you know he probably has to exaggerate his good mood for the sake of the job but it kind of irks you. "what can i do for you today, miss?"

"yeah, uhh...what services do you guys offer? i tried looking online but you guys didn't have a website and..." your wandering eyes can't help but look around skeptically around the front desk and the doors on either side of the lobby.

"well, we offer whatever you need, miss. just tell us what you're looking for and we'll have it. i guarantee it."

"okay, well. my sister's getting married next weekend and..." you gesture to your face. "my life has been all sorts of stressful and hormonal so honestly, i'm just looking for something that can help me feel refreshed-"

you're interrupted by someone entering in from the right side of the lobby door. it's a woman who, you must say, looks glowing. her skin is bright and she quite looks like she's almost levitating. guiding her out of the spa is a young man, around your age, with blond hair and round glasses. he's unbelievably built, with strong hands rubbing her back softly and a chiseled jaw. he's wearing what you think is the uniform of this place: white dress shirt with the top two buttons undone and black slacks.

your breath gets caught in your throat momentarily. no fucking way. this guy works here? he's so fucking...hot. you have to force your eyes to tear away from him as you try your hardest to focus back on your conversation with yuta.

yuta chuckles as he follows your gaze. "ah, yes, mr. nanami is a customer favorite esthetician here. anyway, seems like you're going through a rough time and you came to the perfect place! normally, i would recommend the oxygen facial, but since you said you have a wedding..." yuta types something on the computer for a bit. "personally, i would recommend the full body tokyo special."

you're not entirely what an oxygen facial is, nor what the tokyo special is, and you feel even more stupid asking this guy who seems to be in college for more information.

"um, sorry, what's a full body tokyo special? i think i just need a really good facial."

"oh no worries, miss. i apologize. the full body tokyo special consists of a hands-on full body aromatherapy massage and our famous milkbomb facial, which'll do wonders for your skin." he winks at you. why did he wink at you?

you're unable to think about whether or not you even wanna do anything here when a group of men barge in through the left door of the lobby, laughing loudly, before lowering their voices.

one of the men is a dark haired man, seemingly a little older than the other two and yourself, but also very much ripped just like mr. nanami. you tried not to stare at the skin tight black shirt he wore that attenuated his pecs but miserably failed. he took the quickest glance at you and gave the faintest smile, revealing a slight scar on the left side of his lip. a scar that makes him sexier? you've gotta be kidding me. you follow his gaze to the older woman you saw sitting here when you came in, who know looks completely enamored by the man.

"there's my favorite mama," the man coos, holding an arm out for her as she skipped to him. he leads her to the other door, and you could hear them giggling and talking, as if this wasn't the first time they've seen each other.

"aight, see ya later, man." the other dark haired man said to his friend, before making eye contact with you, and then giving a slight smirk to yuta. he heads straight to the demure girl you saw when you walked in, and holds his hand out to her and she blushes and grabs it.

"th-thanks for seeing me again, geto-san." the girl says so softly that you have to strain your ears to listen.

"i told you to call me suguru..." you hear him joke as they disappear behind the door.

"like what you see?" you turn your head to the last guy, who now is far too close for your liking. you take a small step back, which makes him chuckle.

"yuta-kun! who do we have here?" the man asks boisterously. despite being indoors, he's wearing dark circled sunglasses. what a douche.

"oh, hey gojo-sensei. this is..." yuta looks at you, waiting for you to say your name.

"y/n." you say a bit too late, still trying to process the barrage of attractive men that just showed up all at once and what they had to do with the spa.

yuta starts filling in the man about what you were looking for, as you take in the man who's intently listening to him. he has white hair, and is wearing the same uniform as mr. nanami was, with three buttons undone and his hair slightly disheveled. he's also really tall. like really tall. like he towers over you easily tall. but also, just as well built like everyone else.

what is this place? you knew men could work in salons and parlors and spas, but this place seemed to be exclusively run by them. and not just any men, really attractive men. and what's worse is that you were not complaining. sure, it's a bit weird but there's really no other choice for you at this point.

"ahh, the tokyo special, huh?" he says, turning at you and giving you a bright smile which you suspect he gives to everyone who comes in here. "nice choice."

"he's the one who chose it, and i'm not even sure if i want it." you say, pointing to yuta, and trying your hardest to stand your ground. you have to really make sure this spa treatment is actually gonna help and not just a scam for your money.

"well, he chose right. i've never seen you here before, so you must be new here, right?" you nod, suddenly feeling really small and embarrassed about your attitude before. god, you're never one to behave badly in front of service workers. the hormones are really doing a number on your mood. maybe you could benefit from this "tokyo special".

he leans down to meet your eyes and takes off his sunglasses, and you’re face to face with the most gorgeous ocean blue eyes you've ever seen. through an almost hypnotic effect, you feel much calmer than you did before, and more trusting of him. "well, lucky for you, i've got an opening right now. i'll help you feel right at home." he gives you a wink, and you can't help but feel there's some other hidden meaning behind what he says.

"umm...well..." you say, holding on to the thin strings of your resolve.

"gojo-sensei is the best masseuse and esthetician here, especially for first timers like yourself, miss y/n. i guarantee you'll leave the establishment more than satisfied with his work." yuta assures you with a smile.

and with that, your resolve completely dissolves and you nod and hand him your credit card and he takes the information. gojo touches the small of your back ever so slightly, and you hope he doesn't feel you shiver at his touch.

"he just loves kissing up to me so he can get a full time job here after college. i'm his favorite cousin, after all." he says, making you giggle as you walk through the two panel doors into the spa.

"thanks for taking me in during your opening, mr. gojo." you say politely, feeling grateful as he leads you down the corridor of the neat, clean, and minimally decorated hallway.

"i think you're gonna be the one taking me in," gojo mumbles under his breath while opening the door to a room that looked like a doctor's office. a single lavender massage table greets you with small cabinets on either side.

you're unable to catch what he said. "what? did you say something?"

"i said call me satoru. no need to get so formal with me, i'm just some dude who works here." he chuckles. he locks the door as you sit up on the massage table awkwardly, unsure of how you should be positioning yourself or what exactly he was planning.

gojo goes to the corner and pulls out a fluffy white bathrobe and hands it to you. you're blown away by how soft it feels in your hands -- luxury at it's finest, you guess.

"okay, i just have a quick questionnaire i need you to fill out, probably will take around a minute," he says, as he grabs a clipboard with a pen attached to it from another drawer and takes a seat on a padded lab stool. he rolls closer to you until his long slender legs are almost touching your calves.

"alrighty here...okay, first question…” the questions gojo reads off are normal enough, with various clauses consenting to the spa treatment, confirming your age, and so forth. they don’t start getting weird until later. “ok last three, we’re almost done.” you notice a shit-eating grin on his face as he scribbles your answer to the previous question. “okay, are you a virgin?”

“what?!” 

“are you a virg-”

“i heard you the first time. what kinda question is that? that’s so invasive, what the hell are you play-” you’re ready to give an entire speech to this guy about how inappropriate and irrelevant the question is. 

“it’s fine if you don’t wanna answer it, i just can’t continue the treatment if you don’t.” gojo says this so simply and nonchalantly, as if the question was about your favorite color, and not an intimate detail about your sexuality. 

“okay, fine. not a virgin.” you cross your hands in irritation. 

“not…a...virgin…” you hear him say under his breath as he scribbles something you cannot see on his clipboard. you try leaning forward to see what he’s writing (and if there really was a question like that on the questionnaire but he quickly pulls it closer to his chest, giving you a teasing smirk. “are you on birth control?”

“y-yes?” 

“good to know. last question: got any STDs i need to know about?”

oh, for fuck’s sake. this is ridiculous. does he think you’ve never been to a spa before? the usual thai place you go to never asks this many questions. “do you have any STDs i need to worry about? what is this? 20 questions?”

“you can ask them to me back, i’d be happy to answer them.” he says calmly with a coy smile. “in fact, i’ll answer them right now. no, no, and no.”

you sign in defeat. “no for me too.” maybe this is what happens when a place has like, ten thousand 5 star reviews on google maps. they just ask the weirdest questions. there’s a small voice berating yourself for folding so easily regarding his questions, but whatever. you’re ready to get this treatment over with. 

“okay, take off all your clothes and wear the bathrobe. do you want me to step outside?”

what the hell kinda question is that? of course, he’s supposed to step outside? “um, yeah?” you say it almost obviously, not feeling bad about the attitude that’s coming out of you. 

gojo raises his hand in surrender. “sorry, just askin’...” he grabs his clipboard and steps out of the room, saying he’ll be back in five minutes for the warm up massage. you quickly undress yourself. you have a feeling he’s the type to come in within seconds of knocking on the door without checking to see if you’re decent. you’re unsure where to place your clothes other than the table next to the cabinet so you neatly fold them, hiding your underwear and bra within the folds of your yoga pants and sweatshirt. 

just as promised, gojo shows up five minutes later with one knock before welcoming himself in. he’s holding a dark colored glass bottle filled with a calming essential oil for massaging, and turns on the diffuser in the room. 

“thanks for undressing,” he says, looking at the neatly folded pile of clothes on the counter. “alright, here’s how this is gonna go. i’m gonna give you a nice full body massage to loosen your muscles up, and then we do the facial last, sound good, princess?” 

your skin tingles at him calling you that nickname, but you ignore it. there’s no way i can let my mind wander like that when he’s giving me a massage. you nod your head in agreement, and lay on your back slowly, fidgeting with the ends of  your bathrobe so that you’re not totally exposed to him. gojo slowly hovers his hands over you and lightly touches your stomach, patting it to get your attention, but it causes you suck in a breath a bit too loudly. 

“gotta go on your stomach for me for this one,” he says, urging you to flip around. “gonna undo this, okay?” he tugs at the knot you made on your bathrobe and you nod. he slowly undoes it, and you feel exposed as your breasts peek out through the sides. you cross your legs almost immediately, feeling incredibly exposed in front of a fully clothed gojo. 

you quickly turn on your stomach before he has a chance to take in your body. you feel his cold fingers slowly expose your back, as he stops right before the hump of your ass. you hear him squeezing out some of the oil and warming it up in his hands as he gets to work on your back. 

you suck in a sharp breath between your teeth as his cold fingers explore the knots on your back. 

“cold isn’t it? you’ll get used to my fingers, promise,” he says sweetly, as he hits a spot on your back that’s been particularly bothering you as of late. it’s too late when you let out a moan, and you hear him chuckle. “hit the right spot, didn’t i?”

he continues to undo the knot on your back, and moan back a breathy affirmation as you continue to try (and fail) to hold back your noises. “f-fuck, gojo, that feels s-so good…” you say in between his movements. 

you feel his hot breath in your ear. “told ya to call me satoru, don’t forget it next time, princess.” this time, the nickname goes straight to your pussy. it’s hard to cross your legs when you’re on your stomach and feeling delirious with the pleasure that came from the pressure of his slender fingers. 

unbeknownst you, your soft moans are slowly making their way down to gojo’s member, as he gets harder by the second. he doesn’t want to make it so obvious just yet – he’s just getting start after all. he can’t just blow his load this close into the session, but you’re sure as hell giving him a run for his money. 

“feel good?” you moan in response. gojo slowly inches his fingers down closer and closer to your ass, until it reaches the hem of your bathrobe covering it. “gonna move this down so i can do your legs, yeah?”

gojo will admit, he was a bit too excited to see your ass as he removed your bathrobe down before you could give a proper “yes” but it didn’t matter when you’re soft breaths were giving him the answer he needed. it takes everything in him to not knead the rounds of your perfect ass (he swears your cheeks were made for his hands) and move straight to your calves. 

he slowly massages the soles of your feet and calves with the oil as he moves closer to your thighs, all while relishing in your sweet moans. once he’s at your thighs, the real fun begins. gojo knows this routine like the back of his hands. 

you hear him sigh in confusion. “is everything okay?” you turn your head slightly to see him. 

“sorry about this princess, but you’re gonna have to spread your legs a little bit for me. it’s hard to get every inch of you warmed up, otherwise.”

you obey him almost too easily, and shift your thighs so that there’s more room for him to touch with his fingers. gojo’s hands reach up to slightly cup your ass, before his thumbs slowly slide into your inner thigh, lightly massaging you.

your breaths are getting shallower and louder, and you pray he doesn't go any closer to your pussy so he doesn’t see how soaked you are. you’ve never had a massage like this before, but you also don’t want him to stop. 

gojo’s fingers play with the space of your inner thigh before he spreads you apart, exposing you. you breath catches in your throat, and he performs the next part of his act. 

“we’ve got a pretty unconventional way of massaging our clients, princess.” you hear his voice straining. “gotta make sure you’re relaxed everywhere, but you gotta let me take care of you. think you can do that? all you have to do is relax, and let daddy do everything for you.” you can hear the lust dripping from his voice, but to be honest, you couldn’t give a shit at this point. 

“y-yeah, please, satoru, whatever you want. please, i just…i just feel so good right now,” you say, your eyes shut tight, and your hips practically squirming under his touch. you think you might go insane if he doesn’t touch you there in the next second. 

hook, line, and sinker. who’s gojo to deny your request? he graduated top of his class at his cosmetology and esthetician university, after all. his fingers glide almost too easily between your folds as he starts playing with your throbbing core. he can feel how needy your pussy is for his hands as he spreads your slick all over your core. 

the pleasure immediately gets caught in the pillow that muffles your moans. fuck, so this is what all the reviews were talking about. you feel his fingertips dancing around your clit and you want to shout at him to pay attention to it. 

“s-satoru~ p-please…i need you right there…” you say in between your moans. 

“where? here?” gojo’s finger taps your clit lightly, and it makes your entire body twitch with pleasure. he has to press down on the small of your back to keep you place as his fingers rub circles around your bundle of nerves, making you whimper. you unconsciously grind your hips against his fingers, trying to get close to your release. 

“need a better angle. face down, ass up.” gojo commands, and your body conforms to his words. you prop your lower body up with your knees while your face is sideways against the head of the massage table. he uses this now better angle to really rub his fingers into your folds and bundle of nerves, sending electricity throughout your body. you feel the dam building up inside you and threatening to break. 

“satoru~ i’m-i’m getting c-close…ah~” you hands grip on to the sides of the massage table as you brace for the earth shattering orgasm to rip through you, and with gojo’s deft fingers, you’re on cloud nine in no time. 

your body slumps back down and your eyes roll back as the vibrations of your release still radiate through your body. you hear  your pulse pumping through your head as you try to catch you breath, but you feel gojo’s now warm hands flip you on your back, and his face inches from yours. 

“you took that so well, princess. we’re not done, yet. there’s still another part of your body that needs to warm up.” you don’t have time to process what he means as he inserts two fingers into his mouth and then deep inside your entrance. your gasp is muffled by his mouth connecting to yours, hard, teeth and all. his fingers are long, and they easily find your sensitive g-spot as they curl upwards and bully your internal bundle of nerves. it’s quite embarrassing how quickly you’re ready for another release, and how hungry your entrance was for his finger, practically sucking them in and clenching around them immediately. 

“f-fuck~ i’m about to-” you don’t get to finish your sentence, as another orgasm rips through your body. gojo kisses you again to block your moans, and your hands wrap around his neck to pull him even closer to you. he playfully bites on your lower lip as you ride out your release on his fingers. 

gojo’s kisses turn into soft quick pecks as your breathing steadies and your eyes can focus again. “we’re not done yet,” he teases, slowly taking his slick coated fingers out of you. 

you don’t even have the energy to respond back as he flips you on you back. through heavy eyes, you look back up at him, biting back a moan as he restarts rubbing circles on your extremely sensitive clit. he needs to take off his shirt and fuck you already. 

“need something?” gojo teases, sensing your neediness from just your eyes. 

“take off your shirt, dumbass.” you say through gritted teeth. 

“try again.” he presses harder on your clit, and you let out an unsanctioned yelp through your teeth. 

“f-fuck~ please take off your shirt, dumbass.”

he smiles. “well, if you insist…” he rolls his eyes, feigning inconvenience, but the slowly growing tent in his pants says otherwise. gojo unbuttons his shirt, revealing a perfectly sculpted torso. now this is just unfair. 

“geez, my eyes are up here.” he teases, smirking at you as you quickly meet his eyes and feel your face flush. he unbuckles his belt and you slowly sit up from the massage table. you’re overcome with the urge to touch him, everywhere. you hook your finger to the belt loop of his pants and pull him closer to you. 

gojo smirks as he wraps his arms around hips and leans down to kiss you deeply. you feel your core ache for his touch again as his tongue explores your mouth again. you trace his perfectly sculpted torso, the indents of his abs slightly sweaty to your touch. your hands slowly make their way to the zipper of his slacks, but gojo immediately grabs your wrist to stop you from taking them fully off. 

“not just yet…” he murmurs in between kisses. while his lips are still locked on you, he slowly pushes your body back on the massage table and starts kissing down your bare stomach, the measly bathrobe long since discarded somewhere on the floor. gojo leaves small wet kisses along your body until he reaches your inner thighs. 

you suck in a breath as you involuntarily spread your legs for him, earning an enthusiastic hum from gojo, who’s still continuing to leave a trail of kisses that are inching closer and closer to where you need his mouth to be the most. “p-please~” you moan, your eyes closed in bliss. 

“please what, princess? use your words,” gojo coos, coming face to face with your soaking wet core. he blows on the sensitive bundle of nerves, causing your legs to twitch.

you can’t stand his fucking teasing but you need to be eaten out, so bad. “f-fuck y-you, gojo~” you say, pushing your core up to his face, trying to aim for his mouth before he easily pushes your hips back on the table. you hear him tsk in disapproval, and tears welling up in your eyes in desperation. “please, your tongue…inside me…please~” you whimper weakly. 

“since you begged so nicely…” gojo says before he immediately plunges his tongue inside you, almost making you scream. his tongue expertly explores your folds and sucks on your clit, making you inadvertently grind on his face. “y’taste so delicious, princess,” he says between licks as he eats you out like it’s the last pussy on earth. 

his ministrations with his tongue has you teetering on the edge in record time, and you’re threatening to spill within minutes of him eating you out. as the third wave of pleasure washes over you, you don’t have the energy in you to ask for permission as you feel your body tingle in the aftermath of it. you think you made a mess all over the massage table and gojo’s face, but you don’t have it in you to care as your eyes roll back. 

you feel gojo unbuckle his belt and take off his slack and underwear, exposing his hard member in his hands. you can see the precum leaking out the tip as you weakly lean on your elbows to prop yourself up. 

“see, princess, all those questions did have a reason after all…” he says in between breaths as he strokes himself, looking at your naked glistening body. you spread your legs further in anticipation of feeling him. “but there you were, being such a fuckin’ brat about answering them…” gojo says, eyebrows furrowing as he brings his tip closer to your core and you bite your lip in anticipation. 

“guess you better fuck the attitude outta me, then?” you say, looking up at him through heavy lidded eyes filled with mindless lust. you don’t even care about the consequences or who hears or even if you get your facial – you just need him. every part of your body craved him. 

gojo wastes no time at your suggestion, his tip entering you as you let out a lecherous moan. you feel the initial pain of his larger than average member tearing your tight entrance apart, and bite back a moan. gojo grits his teeth as he lets out a steady throaty groan. 

“fuck, princess. so fuckin’ tight. sure you’re not a virgin?” 

“s’too much satoru, y-you’re huge…ahh~” 

“too bad, princess.” he says, surprising you as he starts thrusting agonizingly slowly into you, bottoming out and effectively reaching the sensitive spot inside you. pain slowly turns into pleasure as you indulge in the feeling of your g-spot getting kissed by his member – the spot that you can never reach by yourself using your own fingers.  

“f-faster, please~” you urge gojo, and he obliges almost immediately, quickening his pace. he bullies your sloppy and wet core, as he watches your titties bounce with every thrust. unlike most people his age, it’s times like this where gojo realizes he really fucking loves his job. 

he reaches out and gives your titties a rough squeeze while he remains unrelenting in his pace. he feels your pussy clench around him, and he knows you’re close, and if he’s being honest, so is he. but he cannot cum just yet, and definitely not before you do. gojo abandons your titties and slides down his fingers to your clit as he starts rubbing inelegant circles around it, getting you closer and closer to the edge. 

you feel the dam breaking once again as the combination of him rubbing and fucking you comes to a climax. the orgasm travels to every corner of your body, as you see stars in your vision while gojo fucks your brains out. you hold on to his shoulders to steady yourself. based on how sloppily gojo is getting, you can tell he’s about to get close, too. you’re about to brace for him to finish inside you, when he abruptly pulls out, earning him a confused look from you. 

“lay down,” he commands more than asks, as he hastily pushes your chest down on the massage table. your sweaty skin sticks to the faux leather, but you don’t pay attention as he moves to the side of your face, holding his soaked member near it. 

gojo starts stroking his throbbing leaking member sensually, and you innately open your mouth and stick your tongue out. so this is the facial? the dots connected in your head at the same time gojo’s ropes of warm cum decorated your face – chin, cheeks, mouth, and all. you hear gojo’s throaty groans as he finishes on you and make sure not a single drop that gets on or near mouth gets wasted, swallowing pridefully. 

gojo leans closer to your ear as he catches his breath from his climax. “that’s the milkbomb facial,” he says cheekily, and you can’t help but giggle. you both take a couple more seconds to catch your breath. you watch gojo as he puts on his pants and tucks in his shirt, looking like he didn’t just fuck the shit out of you. he runs his fingers through his hair quickly as he goes to the counter and pulls out a warm eucalyptus towel as he takes his time to gently wipe your face and body. 

“that was fun,” you murmur, looking at the ceiling, finally understanding what the reviews you read about this earlier place meant. you definitely came here, multiple times in one day for sure. 

gojo chuckles as he goes over to wash his hands and you notice his forearms are glistening with your release. “that’s why we’re the best spa out here, princess.”

you notice your legs shaking slightly, but you manage to hop off the massage table, slightly dazed. gojo notices and helps you get on your feet and put on your clothes. the entire activity is soft and gentle compared to how he was just a couple minutes before. 

everything that you both have done in the past hour finally dawns on you, and you suddenly feel very shy despite whatever the contrary happened on the massage table. it’s so awkward now, like, what do you guys even talk about now? does he do this to everyone? is this their entire schtick?

“do you…do this with all your clients?” you whisper to him as you follow him out into the hallway to the exit. you cross your hands tightly to your chest, as if it’s shrouding you from other people finding out what happened in the room behind you. 

“ah, i’m not one to kiss and tell.” gojo puts his hands in his pockets and glances back at you, giving you a quick wink as you follow behind him, trying to keep up with him as he turns corners.s

“oh, so you do do this everyone, huh?” you challenge, your shyness slowly melting away with gojo’s playful tone.. 

“did you enjoy it?”

a pause from you.. “yes.”

“then don’t worry about it, kitten.” gojo pauses before he opens the door and turns to you. “listen, i wouldn’t mind if you came here again for the tokyo special, you know. i’ll even give you a discount, too.” he says earnestly. 

you let out a giggle. “oh? a discount?”

“yeah, the tight pussy discount.”

“shut up!” you say, and you playfully smack his shoulder, and you both laugh. 

“so… is that a yes? i’ll see you next week?” 

you bite your lip. “maybe, i dunno.” you give him a wink before opening the door, and you both know fully well that you’ll be back on the massage table again in no time with gojo pounding into you. 

needless to say, gojo wasn’t lying when he said they were the best spa in town because by the time your sister’s wedding came around, your face was quite literally glowing. 

“wow! y/n – you’re just looking so radiant today! what’s your secret?” an auntie who’s name you cannot remember gleams, looking at you. 

you smirk, and try to hold back the heat from flushing your cheeks. “oh, just a really good facial,” you say. technically, you’re being honest, right?

“jesus, dude. is this all from skin care daddy?” nobara says, as the tenth person from the wedding compliments your skin. 

“you have no idea. they really know what they’re doing.” you say nonchalantly. you pull out your phone and text a recently saved number. 

you: got any slots for a tokyo special tomorrow?

within minutes you get a response: 

gojo: u know i do babygirl. btw a new guy just joined our spa. hope it’s cool sukuna joins to observe  😈

[urhoneycombwitch]

#17 from that prompt list about seeing the marks left on their partner and getting turned on has got me all kinds of 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 It feels roommate-eddie coded 👀 especially if they have their no-marks rule, but he just kinda loses control one night.

Then we torture him, walking around showing it off, telling him he can’t touch until he learns some self-control…okay, I’m gonna see myself out…

(most assuredly not @rebelfell sending two asks in a row)

foreword: Sarah I’m being so fr how are you literally in my brain… I had a blurb on this very topic set on the back burner bc I couldn’t find a place for it so here it is spruced up!!! (prompt 17 from this list)

cw: Reader has breasts, visible marks, no skin tone/color mentioned, a wee bit of choking kink, not full smut but mdni as always. oh yeah and biting 😈

___

You can feel the weight of Eddie’s eyes on your form, even as you pretend to be oblivious, leaning into the reflection of the standing mirror in the corner of his bedroom.

A few swipes of your pointer finger and your lipgloss is perfect; with a smack of your lips, you straighten up again, tugging the hem of your tee down to meet the band of your jeans. “Almost ready?”

The friendly smile you turn to give Eddie is met with a glower, his dark brows slanted, a death-grip on both knees where he sits simmering on his bed.

“Did you come in here solely to torture me, or do you have other plans up your vixen sleeves?”

Briefly, your eyes flick to the ceiling as you turn back to your reflection, fussing with your hair to keep your hands busy. “Only plan I got is attending our beloved friend’s barbecue. Which we should’ve left for, like, five minutes ago.”

Eddie huffs. In response, you sigh, landing just-left of condescending. “Not my fault you want to fuck me regardless of what I’m wearing. It’s jeans and a t-shirt, Eddie, I’m basically fit for a nunnery-”

There’s a whoosh of spiced air that wafts over first, chills cascading down your spine made worse as Eddie moves in. His left hand lands on your hip, rooting you to the carpet, while the other tracks up, skirting between the valley of your clothed breasts, your collarbone, your neck…

He takes your chin between thumb and forefinger, silver rings biting cold against your skin as your neck goes lax, baring a long, tantalizing stretch of it as Eddie tilts your face up and to the side.

His lips press to the sweet spot behind your ear, then follows the slope of your neck down, stopping at your shirt’s collar that hides the rest of your skin. From your hip, his hand lifts to pull the fabric aside, revealing a scattered canvas of suck marks and teeth imprints that grace the top of your shoulder.

“You really gonna show up with these? Make all our friends wonder who’s been marking you up?”

Eddie’s voice is low, but you’d be a fool to mistake it for softness.

Another shiver licks along the length of your body, and this time Eddie feels it; he presses in closer, hand sliding from your chin to hold just under your jaw as he meets your fluttering eyes in the mirror.

“What’re you gonna say, hm? If Robin asks where they came from? If Steve makes a jock-y comment? If you get teased?”

It’s not like you haven’t been in this situation before- attending events with mutual friends, having to act like your roommate hasn’t been the one checking all your boxes, making up excuses for being late or looking like someone had been using your body as their personal chew toy.

You’ve always made excuses- pretty seamless ones, if anyone’s counting. You don’t even try to squirm away when you respond, swallowing around the light pressure at your throat- “I’ll tell them what I always do. Blind date hookup, one night stand, my dentist’s cousin’s friend that I’ll never see again-”

Eddie bites into the soft flesh of your upper shoulder, hard, free arm wrapping around your midsection like a seatbelt while his other elbow digs into your chest, hand still wrapped around the column of your throat.

The air leaves your lungs in a rush, white-hot adrenaline surging with the sting of the bite, body stiffening against the restraints of Eddie’s arms as you grit out, “Asshole!”

It sounds too whiny and pleasure-soaked to cause any real alarm, Eddie grinning into the curve of your skin (bastard) before tsking, kissing over the thumping mark in partial apology. “Mm. I think you like it. I think you get off on parading our little secret around the poor folks who don’t know any better-”

“As if you don’t.” Eddie may be the one doing most of the biting but you’ve got the bark to match, glaring furiously at the reflection of his maddeningly-cool black-caramel gaze, even as the pressure on your windpipe increases with a minute flex of his palm.

“Yeah. Y’got me there, princess.” His eyes flit across your exposed skin, like he’s trying to memorize all the shades and colors of you combined with the wreckage of his handiwork. “Maybe you should cover up some more. So it’s just you ‘n me who knows what’s under here.”

The cotton collar snaps back into place, covering almost all the evidence (save for the tail end of a day-old scraped hickey). Eddie releases your jaw and takes a step back, the warmth leaving your body all at once, frozen where you stand until sense returns.

You clear your throat before speaking, irritation prickling as you set to fixing your hair again from where Eddie’s interruption had stalled. “Whatever. Fine. But I’m only changing because it’s gonna be cold later, and a long sleeve will be better- not because you told me to.”

“Fine.” Eddie adopts a neutral tone as he settles back onto the mattress with a bounce, tugging absently at the inseam of his dark jeans to relieve some of the mounting tightness. “Have it your way.”

“I will,” you snap back, turning from the mirror on a socked heel, pointing an accusatory finger at the boy on the bed. “And you better have your boots on by the time I’m changed.”

With that, you flounce from Eddie’s room in search of a more conservative neckline, while Eddie pouts and pretends to have the will to disobey you for all of five seconds.

And then he’s up, trudging to the bureau reluctantly to source a pair of socks while scheming for the perfect excuse to take you both on the extra-long route to the barbecue.