#cause i can't remember titles

[galaxyseclipse]

1. (OTP means "one true paring". Essentially, what's your favorite ship)

6. (If it's ok!)

9.

10. (Any splat character)

13.

24. (Cap 3!)

alright, that's kinda what I figured otp meant, or at least something along those lines

1: OTP

Is this even a question? It is absolutely Agent 24. Maybe it's because I want a big, strong woman to pick me up and love me, but who can say

6: show us a bit of a wip! (if it's okay)

it is absolutely okay! I do that a lot anyway!

I'll make it a bigger one than normal too, just for this :3c

this is from Smoke and Guns, that M4rie fic I keep referencing/telling myself to finish and then never doing that

this is from pretty early on and I wrote it a while back so it's kinda awkward

9: write a recommendation of someone else's fic you enjoyed!

hm... uh, the majority of what I read is smut, so I'm not super sure if I can share...

I'm joking(not about the smut part tho).

One that I read recently that made me smile was "one bad seed kills the garden" by CandyCoatedRocks. It's a pair that I personally don't see a lot: Agent/Captain 3 and Callie. Background Agent 24, hypnoshades trauma, ice cream, it's cute.

10: favorite piece of fanart of [any Splat character]?

this one's also hard, cause I see a lot that I really like...

*proceeds to scroll though likes and reblogs for ten minutes*

yeah I can't come up with anything specific lol

BUT, I have been enjoying @/potat0bag's Shivrye sea monster au art

and @/Kiora06's Deep Cut and No.6 series

13: character/ship you haven't written/drawn yet but want to

I have a feeling I'm gonna have to actually make some Pearlina eventually lmao. I'm not complaining, just pointing out the near-inevitable.

Also M4rie, I always say I need to do more with them, and then never do.

24: what is your favorite thing about [Captain 3]?

The "canon" version? Honestly, the ambiguity. They're a blank slate of a character for the player to put whatever they want on. There's a few pieces we get from what the other characters say/do around them, but we mostly just get to go wild with 'em.

Can confirm, very fun!

Of my own? uh... I kinda like how one day I just decided she likes cooking, like a lot. Don't really know why I gave her that trait, but it's one she has. It's an interesting little detail that has almost no relation to the rest of her character, she just likes cooking.

[gayafsowhat]

Why do so many people forget that Ella wouldn't have been able to go to castlecoming anyway. Do none of you remember the plot of Cinderella

[keinkaku]

no idea if this will reach the target... people... but does anyone have that one bagginshield (bagginsshield??) fic where they carve their kid out of stone...???? or well. not really? but the kid was (incompletely) made by thrain (it was stone) and bilbo completed it with wood i think... what i remember most about it was that kili was born through like a misshapen stone cause dis lost him and fili has a scar on his hand because of it.... NO IDEA IF PEOPLE STILL GO THERE IT'S 2024 AND THE LAST HOBBIT MOVIE WAS IN 2014 IF I REMEMBER RIGHT (late to the party on account of being 9 at the time) so like. yeah. if anyone over there sees this and knows the fic. please. i'm begging. i've been looking the past few days and i cannot find it for some reason i'm losing sleep over this please help

[plush-rabbit]

Spots and Stops

Continuation to Cookies and Cream this isn't really a fix-it fic, cause like i got like a request to do so and i'll defs try to, but also i got like two people who wanted a part 2 so here it is

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: People wanted a part two and i want to please the masses, and i have ideas so like here you go

-

Regret is all that you know. It consumes you, starting at your chest, making it ache the entire day, and settles in your stomach to the point that you can’t consume anything without it tasting bitter. You should have reacted better. You should have held him and told him that him being spotted wasn’t a dealbreaker. 

But you didn’t.

Instead, you did everything wrong. He needed you. He needed someone, and he came to you. Somewhere, he thought to himself, that you would have accepted him, past your fear, past your hesitations and desires. He thought that you would want him. 

In your entire relationship, you never thought that he would have ever been wrong. But he was, and in the worst way imaginable. 

You have to force yourself to hide what belonged to him. You can’t bear to look at it- at him, at what used to be his. You hold his nightshirts in your hand, staring at them for far too long, lost in thought of what could have been. You really did think that you two would be together for a long time. 

The fabric is wrinkled, the tag of the shirt curled in on itself and frayed at the edges. His toothbrush is still next to the faucet, and his face wash remains untouched. You can’t bring yourself to throw it away. 

He won’t return. You won’t see him again, and as selfish and awful it is of you to keep something of the man that you rejected- you need to keep his things. You need to keep his shirts, and pants. You need to keep his skincare products. You need to keep his toothbrush. You need to keep some part of him with you. 

A part of you wants him to return. You want him to come back; you want to take him up on that deal of starting fresh, of how he won’t hold what you said against you. How he was so willing to hide himself, just to stay with you. At some point, you expected to come into your home and find his stuff gone- the final sign that he has left your life- that he took what was his when you weren’t home. But he hadn’t. And he won’t. He would always listen to you. Always respected your wishes, and the final one was for him to leave.

You’re an awful person. You’re sickening. Tears dot on his shirt, and you place it beside you on the edge of the bed. Your knuckle wipes harshly at your eyes.

Taking in a deep breath, you force yourself to think of something happy. You don’t deserve to grieve the loss of the relationship. Not when you still have a home. A job. Loved ones. You have it all. He doesn’t. If anyone deserves to cry, it’s Jonathan.

You think of kittens and puppies.

You think of how his voice broke when he called your name.

You think of a memory with a friend where you had a picnic.

You think of how you couldn’t handle his touch.

You think of how he would hold your hand, and act as if it were the greatest honor to do so.

You think of him crying without a face.

You think of him lonely, and cold out in the night. 

You bite your lips harshly, desperate to bring yourself back to your senses. 

The sound of the city is alive outside your window. Lights flash, colors change, and you stand in the middle of your room, willing yourself not to cry. 

-

You unlock the door, and throw your jacket on the couch. It slips and you pull a face at the audacity of having to pick it up. In your hand, you clutch the phone and listen to your friend talk.You shake the jacket, ridding it of any dirt that could have attached itself from the floor.

“Mhm,” you hum, kicking off your shoes and turning on the standing lamp, turning the knob to let a warm glow illuminate the room. You think you hear something somewhere, but you reason to yourself that it must be a pipe. “No, no. I get it. I mean, if it were me, I think I would have liked died.” Your grin is sharp when you hear your friend laugh.

“Exactly. So, that’s why I can never return to that specific bubble tea shop. Honestly, I just- it was so embarrassing,” they whine. You hear them sigh over the phone, and you stretch yourself over the couch, letting your head fall back. “Anyways, how was the date?” Your mouth pulls into a frown. “It’s been a good minute since-” they trail off, not wanting to mention his name, and you whisper a silent “thank you” at the courtesy. “Did you have fun?”

You straighten yourself back on the couch, pulling yourself close to yourself. “It was okay,” you mumble. “I don’t- I mean, he was nice and stuff, but I don’t know. I don’t really see it going anywhere.” You ate across from your date, and you wished that it was Jonathan.

“It doesn’t have to go anywhere,” the counter. “You can just have fun. You’re allowed to have fun after your last relationship.” You clench your jaw. “I know you really liked him, but he’s- you know.” You’re trying to find your words, but none come to mind. “You’re a catch- honest. You’re allowed to go on dates and enjoy yourself.”

Tears sting in your eyes, and you swallow the lump that’s made itself into your throat. “Yeah, you’re right,” you agree, without even trying to add faux emotion into your words.

“You uh-” they clear their throat- “Have you heard from him? Or about him? It’s kinda hard for a guy covered in-”

“I gotta go,” you mumble, not waiting for a response before you end the call. You toss the phone to the other end of the couch. You close your eyes, trying to steady your thoughts, and on the other end of the couch, you hear your phone buzz. 

There’s another sound in your apartment, and you hope that it’s an intruder. You hope that they rob you blind and leave no witnesses. You hope- selfishly hope- that you can be put out of your misery without having to do anything. Then maybe, you wouldn’t have to feel guilt and regret eat away at you. You wouldn’t have to go on anymore dates or live in an apartment with items that don’t belong to you. 

The room spins and closes in on itself and it’s difficult to breathe. Your chest feels as if it’s being crushed, held tightly with the palms of guilt and regret, squeezed until your ribs would splinter and heart would burst. Your breaths are quick and uneven. A hand clutches at your chest, and the other muffles any cries with the palm. You haven’t grieved, and the date that you went on, only confirmed that you shouldn’t. You tossed out your previous partner when he needed you the most. He cried in front of you, begged for you to accept him and you couldn’t. You’re able to continue your life as if nothing happened, he doesn’t have that same luxury. Even if you weren’t the one to cause the incident, you’re positive that you caused something worse to happen to him.

You miss him, but you shouldn’t be allowed to miss him.

Loneliness covers you in a warm blanket. It’s suffocating, and burning, holding you down as you wrap your arms around yourself. There is no comfort that you bring to yourself. There is no one that you can call. You wheeze and hold yourself. Tears burn themselves onto your face, and drip down your chin. You close your eyes tightly, biting on the bottom of your lip. You can’t cry. You won’t cry. You won’t allow yourself to feel bad about the ending of a relationship that you brought upon yourself. 

Nearby, you hear a door click open, and footfalls thump softly against your floor. There’s a knock somewhere- too rhythmic to be a pipe or anything of the sort. You cry more, hiding your face in your palms, hoping that whoever is there will take pity. There’s another knock, and you shrink in on yourself. You can’t mumble anything other than a plea for nothing and anything. Finally, the other person speaks. 

Your name is said softly, and you don’t respond. “I- I know you don’t want to see me, but are you okay?” Your chest shakes and heaves. You’re being tortured, you have to be. You’ve thought about him for far too long that you’ve begun to hallucinate his voice. “Do you need anything? I can um- I can get you a drink?” You take in a wheezing breath, one that hurts your lungs and chest. You hear rushed steps that echo away and come back in a flurry, and something blue is placed in front of you. You peek through the gaps between your fingers, and grab at a tissue.

Time seemingly doesn’t pass for as long as you cry. You sit there, whimpering and sniffling. You must look pathetic to him. And even then, he stands there. The thought of his previous form is what you picture. Picturing him as who he is now, only makes you cry harder. 

You tried to get over your silly fear. You forced yourself to look at spots and holes in clusters. You forced yourself to eat cookies and cream flavored snacks. Even after all that exposure therapy, it still made you sick to look at spots. 

This isn’t fair. None of this is. You wish that he had met someone better before he became what he is. 

You bite the inside of your cheeks and look at him through wet lashes. You can’t even tell if he’s thin or not. His body is too off- too stretched at the limbs and compressed at the torso. You can’t remember if he looked like this all those nights ago.

“I know you told me to get out but I needed some stuff.” His voice rushes at the end, and he shifts his weight, tightening his hands around the clothes and pulling it close to his body. You watch as their clothes and other items fall into a hole, and fall in a crumpled pile near the door. You turn back to look at him. “I meant to do that,” he says weakly. He clears his throat, and stands taller. “I’m allowed to come in here and get my stuff. Okay? That’s fair.” The holes swirl around, thin black lines that wrap around the edge of the circle, smaller, black dots that linger around the bigger holes. You turn your head, tears still making their way down over the curve of your face. “But um, are you okay?” He connects his hands, and fiddles with his fingers, and you can picture who he was before. 

Even after everything, he still asks if you’re okay. He does the one thing that you didn’t do for him. 

You should tell him no. You should be honest. It’s not as if lying will do any good, especially at this state. Your face is wet, and you’ve cried. In the corner of your eye, you see your former partner stand and tilt their head, trying to get a better look at you.

Looking at him hurts in a way that it hadn’t before. “I’m sorry,” you say in a quiet voice. He doesn’t respond. “I’m so sorry,” you repeat, lowering your head. “I’m really sorry.” You cry, hiding your face in your hands once more. “I’m so sorry,” you wail, gasping for breath. Your shoulders shake, and your chest hurts. “I’m sorry, Jonathan,” you say as you gasp for breaths.

He stays silent, and you hope that for his sake, he left you. You hope that he’s the one who gets to leave. 

Only quivering breaths that are coupled with a flushed face and teary eyes are the remnants that you mourned. Faintly, you remember a time where he held you, where he came home to find you crying, and how he raised over still in his work attire to hold you and rock you to sleep. You blink rapidly to rid yourself of that memory. 

He sits beside you, and he’s made sure to keep his distance, perched on the other side of the couch. He turns to you, and your tissues crumble and drop to the carpet. “You look nice,” he compliments. “I always liked that color on you,” he mumbles, looking away.  

You nod. “I went on a date.” Bile burns your throat at the admission. 

“Oh.” Jonathan pats his thighs, and his nails claw, the spots seemingly swimming away from his touch. “Lucky guy.” He pauses, and clearing his throat, he turns to you. “How did it go?” He asks slowly. 

“I didn’t like the guy.” Your shoulders slump, and tears prick your eyes once more. “Um-” your voice cracks, and in the corner of your eye, you see his hand jump, reaching over to comfort you, before having to pull himself back. “He was nice. But I wasn’t-” You stop yourself. You weren’t what? You weren’t ready? After all this time, after the break-up that you initiated, you weren’t ready to put yourself back out there. You weren’t feeling the date because it wasn’t what you wanted? You didn’t want him. You wanted-  You clear your throat. “I don’t think I’m going to see him again,” you mumble. You cast a glance over to where he watches you, the hole where his face should be, spiraling and growing smaller under your gaze. “Have you been seeing anyone?”

He snorts despite the lack of features. “People aren’t really fond of my new look.” You wince and turn back to look at the floor. “But it’s fine.”

“How have you been?” You grab at another tissue, folding it into little squares. 

“Well you know me, I’ve just been here and there. Messing with my holes and stuff.” You give a small smile, turning your head to look at him. “Money’s been a bit tight, but-” he lifts his hand in the air, doing a see-saw motion with it- “Eh. What can you do, ya know?” You force yourself to look at a small cluster of spots that have congregated at his shoulder. He turns to look at you, and when noticing where your eyes have landed, he covers the spot almost self-consciously. “And you? How have you been?”

You give a shrug. “My boss has been a bit of a dick as of late,” you mutter. 

“The one with the mole?”

Your smile brightens up a bit. “Yeah, that one.” You look to the side, and back to him. “Cut my hours after I asked for a day off.” The tissue in your hand tears. “I probably should quit.” You tear the tissues into strips, letting them fall to the floor. You’ll worry about the mess later. “But after the lack of hours and the rent, I really can’t afford that.”

Jonathan stays silent for a moment. “You think you’ll be okay?” You give another shrug as your answer, and when you don’t elaborate, he presses on. “I have some money saved up. I wouldn’t mind- it’s you, you know. I know-” His offer only makes the tears start up once again, and he stops. 

You take in a quivering breath, and rub at your eyes. “You shouldn’t,” you mumble. “I’ll figure it out.” You look away from him. “Plus, I’m sure you got your own things going on. Um-” you turn back to him- “where are you living?” You hope he gives you an address. You hope he has an address to give.

“Turns out, when you work for seedy people, they know even seedier people.” He doesn’t offer anything more than that.

Silence befalls the both of you. You should say something. You should close the gap between you. You should do anything. 

Your hand slides beside you, reaching out, and you see his spot, lower itself, acting as his eyes, lowering his gaze to watch you. Sucking in your bottom lip, you turn your head. Your nails claw at the couch. 

This is wrong. You shouldn’t do this to him. He deserves better than what you can give him. You haven’t even gotten over your trypophobia. But you still want to kiss him. You want to reach over and hold him, and beg to be forgiven. You want to cling to him like you used to after a long day. You want to kiss him, and hold his hand.

To whoever is listening to you, you plead for him to reach over. You want him to take another leap of faith and beg for you. You want him to need you as bad as you need him. The box of tissues becomes blurred, and your cheeks are wet. 

“I should go.” The silence is broken, and you watch as he stands. His spots seem to drag, weighted at the bottom and stretching as he walks further away from you. “I think I got most of my stuff.”

The hole is his stomach bubbles around the rim, the circle wavy and imperfect. You rise with him, and he stands so much taller than he did before. “Do you want to borrow a tote bag or something?” He tilts his head at the offer. “It’s just that when you hold onto things, it um- it looks like they fall into you. I thought a tote bag would make it easier to carry,” your words trail off, softer and softer by the syllable. 

“I’d appreciate that,” he replies.

You nod your head and rush to your room, grabbing at a tote bag from the closet, holding and running your thumb over the stitched handles. He’s going to borrow it. You bring the handle close to you, and press your lips softly against it. 

When you walk back to the living, he stands at the end table, holding a photo frame of the two of you on an early date from what seems like a lifetime ago. You let your gaze linger on him, and when he turns, you scurry to the door, grabbing at his clothes and items, placing them delicately in the bag. You take your time to make sure everything is neat. 

He meets you halfway across the room, and when you hand the bag over, he makes sure to hold the bag above your hands. His pinky touches briefly against your index. You clench your jaw, and try not to look at him.

“Thank you.” He pulls the bag close to him, and you give a curt nod.

“Anytime,” you answer.

Turning on his heel, he walks further from you, and he stops. “I’m going to use the bathroom. I don’t want you to see what I’m going to do.” You want to see. You want to get desensitized. “It won’t be long, I promise. I’ll be out of your way soon.”

“Jonathan?” You ask, tears springing to your eyes once more. 

“Yeah?” 

“I-” You need to apologize to him. You need to tell him that you’re sorry. You need to tell him that you miss him. You need him. “You can- You can always drop by if you need something.” 

He visibly deflates. “Oh. Yeah- cool. Um, Thanks.” 

All he has to do is say that he wants you. He needs to just say it, to ask one more time- that’s all he has to do. You can’t do it. Not when you broke his heart, not when you’re unsure about where you stand in his life and his wants. 

He just has to look back, and you’d tell him that you need him. You’d kiss him, again and again. You’d plead for him to stay. You’d get over your dumb fear, and you’d be happy with him. He takes another step away from you, and you need for him to hear your heart beat against your ribs in an attempt to bully itself out of you. You need for him to stand there for a second longer, to watch and look at the lines that wrap around his body, and the holes that sift and move. You’d get over it, all for him. 

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. He’s walking further away from you. He grabs at his body and pulls out a spot. Your stomach churns at the thought. Over the sound of cars and life, he needs to hear your heart break. He needs to understand that you need him the way that you need air. You’d die without him. You’d let yourself suffer. You stand, and lift your hand up, wanting to reach out for him. 

Turn around. 

Please.

Turn around.

That’s all he has to do. Nothing more. He doesn’t have to be someone else. He’s yours. He’s already himself. 

The door to your bathroom closes, and you suck in a breath, tears springing to flood. “Jonathan,” you croak out, finally, and you rush to open the door to the bathroom, and when you do, he isn’t there. 

You rush to your bedroom, and move the pillows, and you cling to the one shirt that he missed. The one that you hide underneath your pillows. The one that no longer smells like him, but still belongs to him. With all your might, you wish that he would return, but your prayers remain unanswered. Instead, you sit alone in a bedroom, clutching a shirt that no longer belongs to you. A shirt that has no owner. A shirt that is all that remains of someone who you need.

[bijoumikhawal]

"Oh but if so and so gets elected then-" read 1-45 Have Lied, 46-100 Will Be No Different (I Don’t Want a Dyke for President) by Mwende Katwiwa before you spit out representational platitudes. I am SIIIIIIICK OF IT. Be brave. Imagine bigger things. Imagine a better future. If you don't, it will never come! You deserve better! The world deserves better! This is not a good world! You could elect the Messiah and it would still not be good! The system itself is rotted! Nothing can grow within it! Do people not nod along when people explain that "systemic racism" describes a state of affairs where it is possible that no individual in the system is racist, but the system itself reproduces racism? If you can understand that, never open your mouth about this nonsense again! Fight for a better world!

[seungkwanschicken]

one of my fav authors who's been MIA since February just deactivated and I am losing my mind here cause I can't find a single post from their account I AM SO SO UPSET

[teaboot]

You know being transmasc after a life of growing up as the sole "girl" in male-dominated areas gives you a weird and complicated relationship with gender identity.

Like... being told straight to your face, "you're naturally bad at this cause you're a girl", "you're naturally weaker cause you're a girl", "you can act tough but you'll always just be a girl", "stop acting like you can keep up with the men", and even the well-intentioned, "Yeah women are like that, but you don't count, you're basically one of the boys"...

It leads you to this weird space where it's like. "Fuck you, women kick ass," and then busting yourself up to prove that you, a woman, *can* keep up, and not only keep up but do it better than anyone else, and taking pride in your femininity because it's not a fucking weakness, but at the same time knowing that... You're not a woman.

You're not a woman. You're not a girl. People just see tits and curves and decide that nature made you delicate, and then all of a sudden it's your responsibility to prove that you're not fucking weak, women aren't weak, while also saying, "I'm not a woman, though."

It's... bizarre.

I'm not a girl. But so long as I'm interpreted as one, I'm still gonna be held back by the same stereotypes. But if I ever stop being interpreted as one, then all the hard fucking work I put in to excel in my field is going to go down the toilet as "just something you can do because you're a man".

And fuck that. That's stupid, too. Guys shouldn't have their effort taken for granted like that, and it stings extra hard because you remember people just naturally assuming you suck and earning respect only to lose it immediately the second you step over to the "man" side. Because you've worked your whole life for something that as a man you'd just be expected to have naturally.

You SEE that shit staring you in the face, and worst of all people still walk around you in plain view and still talk about how women can't do shit and conveniently forget that you've BEEN ONE. "Because you were a man all along" or "because you overcompensate to prove yourself", whatever they think of to justify the cognitive dissonance that keeps their narrative going.

Nobody seems to consider that I'm not really different from women OR men, because those differences don't exist.

I'm not "naturally better" than women because I don't identify as one, and I'm not "worse than" men because I wasn't assigned the title by a third party. I'm just a person. We're all just people.

I'm just tired, man.

[sceletaflores]

HEAVY METAL LOVER!

pair: logan howlett x bartender!reader wc: 4.2k

contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, drinking, swearing, motorcycle rides, p in v, unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering (fem!receiving), creampie, wolverine's hairy tits, the claws show up ofc, porn with plot, no use of y/n. author’s note: watched deadpool & wolverine twice in theaters, started rewatching the x-men movies, pondered many different thoughts, sat down and wrote this. i need him to breed me. title from lady gaga's 'heavy metal lover' cause it's literally his song.

the wolverine is a regular at your bar…

You're shining glasses behind the bar when you hear it, the gruff sound of Logan’s voice turning away yet another girl that worked up the courage to come up to him. It’s his third rejection of the night, not that you were counting.

You were, you always do. You pay more attention to that side of the bar than you normally would when he’s here, which is nearly everyday for the past three weeks. He's not like any of your other regulars. He's almost always alone, and he never talks to you except when he calls for another drink. 

The only reason you even know his real name at all is because Wade told you one of the nights he tagged along, leaning his elbows on the bar to whisper over the sugared rim of his "Piña Colada. Extra creamy please, you know how I like it..." like he was telling you a secret.

"Don't let him hurt your feels honey bunch. That's just classic Logan for you, a man of few words. Huge case of blue balls by the way." 

You remember the way he let the obvious innuendo hang in the air, the knowing look he gave you as he spun the little paper umbrella floating in his drink. You didn’t think you were being that obvious, that someone as socially inept as Wade was able to pick up on the way your eyes would linger a little too long on the broad width of Logan’s shoulders, on the way his arms would strain against the fabric of his flannels. 

You’d seen him on the news, thick corded muscles all wrapped in blue and yellow leather. It haunted you for days, playing in your mind on a constant loop of sweaty biceps until you finally gave in and pulled out your favorite vibrator. 

Even with that, there’s just something about the jeans and flannels he wears outside of the suit that make you want to jump over the bar and drop down to your knees right in front of him. Your mouth open wide and waiting.

The dull ‘thunk’ of Logan placing his empty glass on the bartop grabs your attention, two quick raps of his knuckles against the wood ripping you from your thoughts. “Another,” he says briskly, not looking away from the peeling backsplash on the wall behind you.

You usually snapped at men who’d bark orders at you, but The Wolverine isn’t just any man. He's certainly the only man you'd ever take orders from willingly, happily.

You grin, tossing your towel over your shoulder as you grab the whiskey bottle off the shelf and slide over to him, tipping the amber colored bottle over to start refilling his glass. “That’s the third one tonight,” you say casually, casting your eyes over his shoulder to the girl from before retreating back to her friends. “I take it you don’t come here looking for company?”

Logan’s eyes flick to yours, it’s the first time he’s looked at you all night. You look back, lips pulled into a small smile as more whiskey than you’d usually pour splashes against the sides of his glass. The music playing from the speakers fades into a dull hum around you.

He holds your gaze for a second longer, a flash of something you can't quite read passing through his eyes before he’s looking away again. “Not the kind you’re thinking of,” he replies, his voice a low rumble that has something warm zinging up your spine.

You set the bottle down next to him, brow piqued in curiosity. “And what kind is that?”

He doesn't respond right away, just raises the now full glass to his lips to take a slow sip. You almost think he’s going to ignore you again, but then he speaks, “You ask everyone that comes in here personal questions, bub?” 

There’s the barest hint of amusement lacing his words that has you biting your bottom lip to try and contain the absolute giddiness blooming in your chest. It’s not much, but it’s more than he’s ever given you before. Encouraged, you step in a little closer, hoping to draw him out further.

“Only the ones with their asses practically fused to my stools,” you shrug, a playful glint sparkling in your eyes. “So what is it, you got some poor wife you leave at home every time you come here? Because the ‘tall, dark, and kind of morally ambiguous’ thing is obviously working for you.”

Logan turns his eyes to you again, his brow raised in amusement. You’re close enough that you can see the way his lips turn up at the corners. He seems to consider your question, gaze slowly trailing along your face before flicking back to your eyes. "No wife," he replies, the words slow and deliberate. "No home to leave her at either.”

His response hangs in the air between you, heavier than you anticipated. You let out a soft breath, lips parting ever so slightly. You can practically feel the weight of his gaze settling over you, leaving your whole body warm and tingly. The heat swirling deep in your gut slipping down to pool wet and sticky in your panties. Logan’s eyes blink shut for just a second, the bridge of his nose twitching lightly.

You almost can’t believe this is really happening, that the angry guy at the end of your bar you’ve seen turn away pretty girl after pretty girl is flirting with you. It makes you feel dizzy with power, like you could do anything, but it’s also one of the most intimidating things you’ve ever experienced. You didn’t realize what it meant to be the center of Logan’s attention until now, but you refuse to back down.

 He gives an inch, so you take a mile.

Your grin widens as you lean your elbows on the bar, resting your chin on the heels of your hands. Logan doesn’t react to you invading his space, just keeps his eyes on you with a passive look on his face, but you don’t miss the way his gaze darts down to the low cut of your top.

“So…” you say slowly, voice dipping into a softer more intimate tone, “that means you’re free later tonight?” You tilt your head to the side coyly, allowing your hair to cascade over your shoulder, the movement drawing his gaze.

Logan’s eyes widen the tiniest bit, a surprised huff leaving his lips. He raises his glass, taking another long drink. Your eyes trace the sharp line of his jaw to where his adam’s apple bobs enticingly as he swallows. Your lips tingle with the need to mark up the tan column of his throat, to sink your teeth in the skin there, to taste.

The neckline of his undershirt dips low enough that you can see the dark hair scattered across his chest, dog tags dangling from a chain around his neck to sit in the center.

You drag your eyes back up to his face, flushing when you see that he's already looking at you over the rim of his drink. He sets his half drained glass down, a skeptical look on his face. “How old are you, kid?”

You shake your head with a soft laugh, dropping your palms to lay flat on the bartop. If that makes your top dip a little lower to flash more of your cleavage in Logan’s eyeline, then that’s just a bonus. “Old enough to be here,” you reply after a short pause, gazing up at him from under your lashes, “Old enough to know what I want.”

Logan’s eyes darken, the warm brown of them seeming deeper and even more intense than before. The dim overhead lights cast shadows across his rugged features, highlighting the scruff on his jaw. You can’t help but imagine the rough scratch of it brushing up against your inner thighs.

Logan pushes his glass away, leaning in with a soft grunt, his eyes drop to your lips. You suck in a shocked breath, your whole body lighting up at being so close to him. Your heart is racing in your chest, a quick ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum ba-dum that echoes in your ears.

His lips turn up in a sly grin, the sharp canines of his teeth on display. “Is that so?” He asks, voice going all husky like gravel and honey. He meets your eyes and you swear you can see the sparks going off in the air between you, everything else in the bar completely fizzling out as his breath mingles with yours. “Careful what you wish for,” he says, his voice a low rumble that makes your knees weak. “You might just get it.”

Your lips curve into a mischievous smile, the heat between you palpable. “I’m counting on it,” you reply, your voice dripping with promise. It takes everything in you to straighten up and pull away from Logan, stepping back with the forgotten bottle in your hand. “My shift ends at eleven,” you say with a small shrug, jerking your head to a door across the room, “staff leaves through the alley door.” 

It’s a clear invitation, one that Logan easily picks up on. His hungry gaze follows every move you make as you shelf the whiskey.

Before he can say anything, someone calls you from across the bar, shaking their empty glass impatiently. You throw him one last smile over your shoulder, mouthing ‘eleven‘ again with a quick nod of your head. You aren’t sure if it’s supposed to reassure you or him.

Logan smirks nonetheless, standing from the bar before draining the rest of his drink and throwing a few bills down. The air crackles as you watch him make his way towards the exit, eyes lingering on the way his jeans hug the thick muscles of his legs before someone is snapping their fingers at you to serve them.

The rest of your shift drags by, but the excitement and hope swirling in your stomach doesn’t fade. You’re practically thrumming with excitement by the time eleven rolls around, anticipation coursing through your veins as you clock out and grab your bag from your locker.

You pull the door to the alley open, the heavy metal creaking with the swing. The gravel crunches under your shoes as you step outside, eyes eagerly searching the space in search of Logan. The light mounted above the door shines around you, but you don’t see him anywhere. 

Just as disappointment starts to settle in your chest, you hear a loud rumble coming from the down the street. A bright light shines across the road as it gets closer and closer until there’s a motorcycle pulled up against the alley’s opening.

Logan kicks the bike’s stand down, leaning over to hold out a helmet in offering. “You coming or not?” he calls out, voice deep and teasing, “I’m not known for my patience.”

You can’t help but laugh, a mix of exhilaration and nervousness bubbling up inside you. With a confident stride, you walk toward him, the loud growl of the bike reverberates through your body like thunder with every step. “You’re just full of surprises tonight, aren’t you?” 

You take the helmet from his hand, but he doesn't let go right away, making your fingers brush against his in a way that sends a shiver up your arm. You meet his gaze, the smirk on his lips matching the dangerous glint in his eyes.

He drops his hand down to the bike’s handle, jerking his head back to the empty space behind him. “Hop on.”

You straddle the bike, the leather seat warm from the rumbling engine beneath you. You give Logan your address as you slip the helmet on. His body is warm and solid against your front, you can’t help but press a little closer, your hands falling to rest on his waist. The leather of his jacket is smooth under your fingertips.

Logan turns his head to the side, the street lights shine along the side of his face in a warm yellow glow. “Hang on,” he says, voice barely audible over the roar of the bike’s engine starting up.

The sudden rush of wind as he pulls off paired with the thrillingly intense vibration of the engine revving under you is exhilarating. You wrap your arms tight around his waist, fingers digging in slightly as you lean into the curve of his body. 

The city blurs into a whirlwind of colorful lights as Logan navigates the streets with a confident ease. The cool night air whips past you, every turn and acceleration pumping more adrenaline through your veins. You cling to Logan’s waist like it’s a lifeline– there’s a sense of freedom and excitement that comes with being on the bike, but you think the real thrill is being pressed against him like this, feeling the power of his strength under you.

The ride seems like it takes both hours and seconds all at once when Logan pulls up to your house's gate. He kills the engine, the sudden silence a stark contrast from the roaring bike. Your heart pounds in your chest, pulse thumping as you slide the helmet off.

Logan takes it from your hands, eyes scanning over your house. “Nice place,” he comments casually, swinging his leg over the bike to stand next to you. 

"Thanks," you say, your voice a tad breathless. You can’t help but feel a little self-conscious as you dig for your keys in your bag, nerves finally starting to set in. The air is cold against your flushed skin, and you’re hyper aware of Logan’s presence behind you as you unlock the gate and push it open.

He doesn’t touch you as the two of you walk up the steps to your house, infuriatingly keeping his distance with his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans.

Your legs shake with every step, you can’t tell if it’s left over adrenaline from the ride or the building anticipation for the ride you know is waiting for you beyond your front door. Your hands tremble as you fumble with the lock, opening the door and stepping into the darkness of your living room. 

You’re barely a foot inside before a pair of strong hands pull you backwards, getting whirled around by your waist until your back hits your closed front door mute thud. You don’t have any time to react before Logan’s crowding up against you, his body a solid wall of muscle pressing you hard against the door. His lips crash into yours in a hungry kiss, you can taste the whiskey from earlier sharp and smoky on his tongue.

You respond eagerly, leaning up to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down even closer. Logan’s hands roam over your body rough and possessive, one sliding up to cup the back of your neck while the other grips your waist, pulling you even closer. His hands leave a trail of fire in their wake, your skin tingling with every brush of his fingers. You can feel the raw power in his touch, a barely there restrained strength that has your heart racing even faster. 

“I could fucking smell you,” he growls agasint your neck, digging his sharp teeth into your collarbone meanly. You can't help but let out a soft moan, your head falling back against the door to give him better access. The rough stubble on his jaw scrapes deliciously against your sensitive skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Could smell how goddamn wet you got, back at the bar.”

His hand slips under the waistband of your jeans, sliding down the front of your panties to brush against your clit. Your mouth drops open with a soft moan, your slick lips still tingling. “Do you have any fuckin’ idea how hard it was not to bend you over, to not rip these things off and fuck you over the bar?” he asks roughly, lips brushing against your skin with every word. “Wanted to take you right, make everyone watch while I made you scream.”

Your breath hitches at his words, a wave of pleasure crashing through you. The rough skin of his fingertips press more firmly against your clit, drawing a broken moan from your lips. “Logan,” you gasp, your hips bucking involuntarily against his hand.Your hands claw at his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt as you try to ground yourself. 

His lips capture yours again in a bruising kiss, sliding two thick fingers into you with a rough thrust. “Atta girl,” he murmurs against your mouth, dragging his tongue across your bottom slip. “That’s it, say my name,” he growls, swallowing your moans as his fingers pump into you with an unrelenting pace. Your walls clench around him, a needy whine escaping your throat as he begins to fuck his fingers in and out of your wet cunt. 

The coil of pleasure deep in your stomach tightens with every thrust of his fingers, your body trembling with the intensity of it all. You can feel the pressure start to build, like a dam threatening to burst, but this isn’t how you want to come. You break the kiss, a thin thread of saliva connecting your lips before it thins and breaks. “Wait,” you say breathlessly, hand slipping down to grip his forearm tightly, “I want to come with you inside me.”

Logan growls, a deep, primal sound that you can feel rumble deep in his chest where it’s pressed against yours. “Bedroom,” he demands, hands dropping to the back of your thighs and lifting. 

You wrap your legs around his waist with a quiet squeal, attacking the skin of his neck with your teeth as he walks the two of you down the dark hallway. “First door on the right,” you whisper, dragging your tongue along the column of his throat. You can feel the thick length of his cock straining against his jeans press into your hip. He sucks in a sharp breath as you roll your hips down, sliding the damp fabric of your clothed cunt over him.

Logan kicks the door open with a force that has it slamming against the wall, the sound barely registering in your lust-addled brain. Logan dumps you on the bed, the force of it bouncing you on the mattress. He rips his white undershirt over his head and drops to his knees in front of you, big hands coming up to grip the waistband of your jeans.

The muscles in his arms don’t even flex as he rips your shorts down the middle, denim and along with lace panties tearing like tissue paper in his hands and falling to the floor in tattered pieces. You gasp at the cold air hitting your hot, aching cunt. 

Logan’s hands run up and down the bare skin of your calves, eyes glued to the soaked skin of your inner thighs. Your thighs start to tremble under his gaze, your patience starting to wear thin. Logan drags his eyes back to you, taking in the pleading look on your face. He smirks, wordlessly rising to his feet to pop open the button of his jeans.

You watch with bated breath as he unzips his fly, eyes glued to the way he starts to push them down his legs just enough that they fall to pool around his ankles. Your mouth drops open, eyes going wide at the sight of him.

He’s so big, so thick and heavy that his cock hangs hard between his hairy thighs instead of slapping up against his stomach. There’s a thick drop of pre-cum leaking from the tip, dripping down a thick vein running along the side.

Your mouth waters with want, the want to bury your nose in the dark thatch of hair surrounding the base, the want to have him fuck your throat raw and red. You can almost feel the ache in your jaw. 

As much as you want to get him in your mouth, you want him inside you even more.

“Get your ass over here,” you demand breathlessly, tearing your shirt off your head in one swift motion. Logan smirks, stepping out of his jeans and making his way across the room. His dog tags jingle with every step, your cunt clenches weakly.

He stalks up the mattress like a predator, eyes ablaze as a cocky smirk plays on his lips. Your legs fall open unconsciously, thighs spreading wide to make enough room for his hips to slot against yours.

You gasp at the thick head of his cock sliding through your wet folds, your body arching off the bed. The sensation is electric, shooting through you like a live wire. "Logan," you breathe, your voice barely more than a whimper. "Please..."

"Please what?" he asks, his lips curving into a smirk against your skin. "You gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart."

Your cheeks flush hot, but the need burning inside you is stronger than any embarrassment. "I want you," you admit, your voice trembling with desire. "I want you to fuck me, Logan."

His growl is low and feral, his fingers teasing you relentlessly as he presses his forehead to yours. "That's a good girl," he rumbles, his breath hot against your lips as he sinks into the tight heat of your cunt in a single thrust. 

The pace he sets is unrelenting, one hand braced on the pillow next to your head while the other grips your bed’s frame for better leverage to fuck down into you. The sting of his cock splitting your cunt open has your nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders. His dog tags hang from his neck, swinging like a pendulum as he starts to thrust.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he grates out, brows furrowed in pleasure. His hips speed up, barely pulling out halfway before he plunges back into you. The bed squeaks under you, slamming up against the wall as Logan fucks you.

It’s like Logan surrounds every inch of you, strong arms caged around your head while his body covers yours, metal bonded bones pressing you down into the mattress so there’s nothing you can do but take it. You know that he’s ruined every other man in the world for you as the heavy snap of his hips pounds against the skin of your ass hard enough to bruise. The thick muscles of chest bounces as he moves, the coarse hair scraping against your sensitive nipples.

The head of his cock pounds the soft spot inside of you that has your eyes fluttering closed, mind going hazy as heat starts to pool at the base of your spine.

“Don’t fucking stop,” you beg brokenly, tears sting the corners of your eyes. “God! I’m gonna come, you’re gonna make me come–”

“Come on baby,” Logan goads, dropping down to his fore arm so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck, “Give it to me, come on this cock, show me how much you fucking love it,”

The stinging bite of his sharp canines scraping the fluttering pulse of your neck makes you wail, nails raking down his back hard enough to leave long red welts that heal as you go. Your cunt clenches around the pulsing length of his cock, greedily milking him as you come in a rush of wetness around his cock.

“Fuck,” Logan grits out, his hips faltering. It’s not by much, but just enough for you to notice. The rhythmic smack smack smack of skin stuttering as his breath comes out in fast pants against the sweaty skin of your neck. His cock jerks inside you fiercely, his heavy balls tightening as he gets closer to the edge. You can hear the metal frame of your bed creaking warningly under his grip.

“Come in me,” you beg breathlessly, tightening your ankles around his waist. “Please, Logan I need it–”

Logan lets out a feral growl as his hand drops from your headboard, the sharp metallic sound of his claws unsheathing rings out above you before he slams his fist into the mattress next to your head. He floods your insides, pumping you full of his come as he grunts like a beast on top of you. He gives a few more weak thrusts of his hips, letting the two of you ride out your highs before he finally stills.

You hear the quiet snikt of his claws retracting from your mattress and back into between his knuckles before Logan collapses on top of you, arms braced on either side of your head to take most of his weight. His breath puffs raggedly over the skin of your shoulder, his spent cock still snug in your sore cunt. 

“You owe me a new mattress,” you say breathlessly, digging the heels of your feet into his lower back sharply. 

Logan chuckles into your neck, tipping his head up to look at you with dark eyes. His lips curl into a smirk as he rolls his hips, his still hard cock dragging along the sensitive walls of your cunt makes you gasp. “Yeah?” he asks, low and velvety. His eyes flick to the three holes punched through your sheets.

“You can add it to my tab,” he says with another stronger roll of his hips, “We’re not done here.”

tags are now in the comments! if you want to get tagged for any of my works just fill out this form!

a/n! the actual biggest shout out to @ebodebo for beta reading and listening to my non-stop rambling and horny thoughts about this man. she's a true solider because i have been so annoying about this. mwah mwah mwah.

[satowooo]

i. imgonnagetyouback

The one and only son of the Gojo clan had fallen quite hard, completely and utterly, to a lowly woman who came from the dirt, and got his heart broken by her. Years had passed, he was still as angry since the day you left, but he only wanted you back.

contents. modern au, gojo satoru x reader, angst, not proofread.

Whether I'm gonna curse you out or take you back to my house, I haven't decided yet but I'm gonna get you back

next chapter

It was pathetic. The sight of Gojo Satoru, a well-respected son of the Gojo clan, was down on his knees right in front of you, begging you to stay, a daughter of a mere servant.

It made him look pitiful and weak, a miserable prince who had his heart shattered by a low class woman like you. But he didn't really give it that much of a thought, ever since he first laid eyes on you. He didn't care what people might've said from the very first time, and he proved it to you a million times as he stubbornly and desperately showed you how much he loves and adores you. So, begging down on his knees is not that much of a deal now, no?

“Stand up, please.”

But you were firm, closing your eyes as you let out a shaky breath. You hated seeing him like this, but you were left with no other choice. Your love for him could risk even the dangers of your life, and you were sacrificing him to save him.

“I do not wish to be with you any longer, Young Master.” You said, uttering his title in a whisper. “What we had was wrong. It was a mistake on my side. And I thought I was in love with you, but it was just a pathetic infatuation and I realised that another man best suits me, and it's not you.”

Your words were nonstop, every single thing that you uttered was shattering his heart into pieces. But Satoru furiously shakes his head, his hands trembling on your lap as his forehead falls on your knees.

“T-that’s not… T-that's not true…”

You remembered everything from that day. Every little detail, every word, every touch, every action, of what had happened stayed forever in your mind. It never fails to shatter you. To make you cry every single time that you thought about him as you lie in the confinements of your small room.

“I have done what you asked for. What else do I need to do–” A whimper escaped your lips as a hand flew over your cheek. Breathing heavily, you felt the sting on your skin as you looked back at the person who had been the cause of your pain.

“Pack your things, and never show your face again.”

Gojo Satoru haunted your dreams and nightmares. He managed his way in your heart, and refused to leave. He was the ghost of your tragic love story, you could only wish that you never should've picked up the pen. It's already been two years since you left, and even until now, your heart only beats for one man and it will always be for Satoru.

So what are you going to do when he comes up at your door, claiming what used to be his?

It all happened so fast that your head can't fathom how you ended back to the place of your nightmares. The Gojo clan's mansion. The place where it all started between the two of you.

Every corner of this place was filled with memories of you and Satoru, all the good and bad. But what you remembered most was the torture, the consequences you had faced for falling in love. You felt like all your scars were slowly tearing apart, opening the wound that was almost healed as you looked back to the man who stood in front of you.

You never should've been back in this place.

“I expect you to work immediately.” Satoru's voice was different. It was laced with authority and demand, not the sweet ones that you remember back when he was yours. “Remember, your family is in the palm of my hands. Try to escape, and you'll face the consequences.”

His eyes looked at you with anger, a pent up emotion that he bottled up all these years. His hands were balled on a fist by his sides, almost trembling, but he wouldn't let you see just how much you still have an effect on him.

Right now, all he feels is anger and hatred for what you did. For leaving him. For running off with another man. For loving him only to break his heart. For letting him hold on to your empty promises.

For those two years, he only loathed you and he's not going to be a forgiving man, he'll make sure you regret. He'll make you beg on his knees, the way he did for you.

“I expect you to be in my office in five.”

Now, you're back to square one. Working as his maid was already bad enough back then, so what's going to happen now that you're back to serve him again?

You can't help but notice how much he changed. Somehow, you can tell that he was still the same, only that he was only mad at you. It was obvious already how he's showing indifference only to you but not to anyone else. His bubbly personality that used to welcome you with warm embraces is now replaced with an angry demeanour of a man who cold-heartedly took you away from your family and took you back to the house where you suffered.

How unfair.

This was not your Satoru.

As soon as Satoru turned around and left you standing, he heaved out a breath that he didn't know he was holding. His heart felt like it was trying to escape from his chest. For the first time since you left, he finally felt his heart beating again.

All throughout those years that you were gone, he relentlessly looked for you. Trying to search your face in unfamiliar places, sometimes getting himself into trouble when he mistakes someone for you. Everyday, he was turning angrier and angrier when you never showed up, while all he needed was proper answers and explanations. He hated all the memory that you had left, and how it tore him to pieces that all of it was just a lie.

He couldn't believe you had the nerve. A woman like you with no name for herself, telling him that a relationship with him was just a mistake as you sought another man. Gojo Satoru was everything anyone could have asked for, so how dare a woman like you? How dare a woman he loved…

Everything comes crashing down into his mind once again. From the first time he saw you and how you've caught his eye. His heart starts to beat frantically, his breath caught into his chest, his tongue tied together. Satoru slumps into his chair as he closes his eyes, letting the memory sink in.

“Who is that woman?” Satoru asked an older servant, seeing your unfamiliar face walking around the garden in a maid uniform as he stared down at you from his window.

“That's [M/L/N]’s daughter. She's here to take her place while her mother is recovering.” The servant answered as she poured him tea.

Satoru watched as you walked quietly, your movements looked calculated and careful. He watched your finger touch a ragged cloth, gracefully cleaning the dirty tables.

From afar, he can see how your skin looked soft and pale. You were a bit thin and looked weak. He can only assume that he could break you with one twist.

Your face didn't have any emotion in it which intrigued him. Even your lips were downturned, like you hated every second of working in his place. You caught his attention in a matter of seconds, a curiosity growing inside him while he watched your every move.

He noticed the way your mood changed when his family's dog, a small golden retriever, came running to you. A smile formed into your face and he swore he could feel all the flowers blooming all around the place. Everything seemed to have lighted up, his heart began to drum in his chest as you kneeled down to the dog, petting and rubbing the cute animal between your hands.

What's so fascinating about you?

He swallowed hard. Satoru felt like a teenage boy realising that he was staring a little too hard. He felt like a stalker for watching you, shivering at his thoughts.

But he wanted to meet you. Something was pulling him to be close to your presence. A magnetic force was drawing him to come near, and it was the very first time that he ever felt like this.

But he'll take his time first. For now, he's going to settle on just watching you from afar, memorising every detail of you, until he is ready.

A knock on the door woke Satoru back to his senses. He straightened up on his seat, erasing the memories out of his head as he coughed. “Come in.”

But how can Satoru completely forget?

You walked inside in your maid uniform, the same dress that you used to wear, and it only took Satoru a matter of seconds for all your pasts to remind him of how much he loved you. He felt a pain in his chest, and for a moment, he wanted to fall back on his knees and beg for you to love him again. But even you had changed.

Satoru was also back to square one. He looks at you, reminded of the first time he had seen your face. The lack of emotion, the frown, the gaze that used to intimidate him, and the wall you had built between the two of you was palpable.

“Take a seat.” Satoru gestured over the chair in front of his table.

He watched you carefully as you stepped inside his office, striding forward with a sense of hurry as you obviously refused to seat. You stood in front of him, an emotion in your eyes that he can't seem to read.

“I have to get back to my family–”

“They are fine.” Satoru immediately cut you off, his voice ringing over your ear. He looked at you with a glare, venom laced in his voice as he says, “You are bound to stay here, as I said so–”

“You can't keep me here!”

Your scream shocked the both of you, but Satoru kept a straight face as he stood up slowly. He chuckled with malice, staring at your helpless state.

“What makes you say that I can't?” He smirked. “I own you now. Every single thing that's yours is also mine, even your family.”

Your eyes fell to the floor, your hands trembling at your side. Your knees felt weak underneath his gaze, burning and crushing your soul.

Everything he said was true. You were in so much debt ever since you left the Gojo mansion, your family almost falling apart if he didn't show up to take you. And now he's claiming every single bit of what's yours, not leaving a single piece behind.

Satoru made it clear when he took you here. He'll pay for everything to save you and your family. Your mother's hospital bill, your father's gambling debts, your brother's education, their food, house, electricity, and all their livings, because you couldn't pay them off by yourself.

So now you're trapped. He's got you wrapped around his fingers.

“You need me, Y/N.” You closed your eyes at his voice, shaking your head in denial. “You can't afford to live without me, and that's the truth.”

It was the truth, Satoru taking her away from her old life.

You were doing just fine when he was gone. But now you don't know anymore.

this is the part 1 of my mini (?) gojo series! i hope you'd like it and anticipate for what's next to come 🥺🫶🏻 [M/L/N] also stand for "mother's last name" in case you didn't knowww ^.^ I also hoped you understood the flashbacks and such.

this is just a prologue of the main story, sooo the real story starts at part 2.

[bywons]

𖧷 HEARTSHAKER — LHS

⌕ lee heeseung doesn't know what he wants from his rival, better marks or a kiss

pairing. student!lee heeseung x student!fem! reader wc. 1.4k tw/cw. jealousy, kissing genre. academic rivals to lovers, fluff, highschool au sru's note. requested for my nini love ♡ shitty title ik but i hope ya'll like cuz i dont T0T ( CATALOGUE?! )

¤ feedbacks and reblogs are always appreciated! PLS REBLOG ♡

96 out of 100.

thanks to the almighty above that lee heeseung is tired, the basketball jersey stuck to his back, sweat covering his face and colouring the red fabric darker as he pants for his breath, or else the test paper in his hands would have been crumpled and ripped to shreds.

not because of his number obviously.

“99, i knew i rocked this paper!”, a dulcet, familiar voice floats up to heeseung's ear from behind him, followed by a mean eye roll from him and his stance still. heeseung doesn't bother to turn around, not when he recognizes the infuriating feminine voice and already visualises the usual dark brown braids hanging by the either sides of her face, school tie too tight and almost reaching the last button of the shirt.

“why the long face?”, jake's interruption breaks heeseung out of his trance, as he takes the much unwanted seat beside him, “96 not enough for ‘ya?”

“oh shut up”, heeseung returns jake’s scoff slamming down his physics answer sheet against the wooden table. both heeseung and jake know it's not enough, whether it's a 96 or a 99 ’cause,

“it's never enough unless i cross y/n’s marks”, heeseung sighs, the answer sheet dampening under the pressure of his sweaty hands, as his forehead became the victim of the other.

everyone in the class is aware of the cutthroat competition and abhorrence between the two brunettes, already expecting the usual bickering episode between the two whenever it was time for exam results, and even if by chance someone got the same results as any one of them, they'd do their best and not bother the two.

but today is different, today heeseung doesn't find his usual energy to bicker with the braided girl sitting at the back of the class, not when she managed to beat him thrice in a row at his own game!

“last time it was a marks’ difference and now three? how is this even possible?”, heeseung groans while flipping the sheets over and over as if something magical would happen and increase his numbers.

“i heard park sunghoon's been studying chemistry with her,” jake sighs, pushing his fingers through his dark hair as he turns his head to the side, but his eyes steal a glance at heeseung, and he smirks, “‘ya know, the chemistry toppe—”

“yeah yeah i got you jake, i know who he is”, heeseung presses the bridge of his nose a bit too hard, the familiar face of the boy floating up to his vision, though he can't remember where his loved moles are on him. oh how all the girls are head over heels for park sunghoon.

is y/n one of them too? he could swear they're hanging out too much.

stupid thought, stupid stupid thought. heeseung winces at his sudden curiosity, why is giving this matter so much thought? he doesn't like y/n anyway, he doesn't like her bickering, he doesn't like her annoying attitude, he doesn't like her hair, he doesn't like her scent and he definitely doesn't like her smile. so lee heeseung shouldn't really get his head messed up in this.

the school bell rings, bringing out new tedious groans and sighs from the students as they dawdle to their next classes.

“i think she's coming here—”

“don't you have a physics class to be at, jake?”

“yeah yeah shoo me away all you want to”, jake scoffs, a smirk playing at his lips when he slings a bag on his shoulder before leaving the class, “bet you can't shoo away her.”

and before heeseung even knew it the class was empty, except him and as empty, dispersed out in the crowded hallways to their next classes. that is unless the previous dulcet but annoying voice came closer to heeseung.

“heeseung!”, you chirp, approaching him from behind, “how was your paper?”

“ugh what do you—”, heeseung's anger dies down when he turns around to face you, your hair's not done into braids today, instead it's let open with your tie loose this time, a few drops of sweat sticking to your forehead, dance practice maybe? “—w-want?”

“your marks of course,” you giggle at his stutter, taking a seat beside him, “wanna make sure if i beat you or nah.”

“yeah you did, but not on your own huh?”, heeseung scoffs, looking down at you. he realises his heart skips a beat when you tilt your head to the side, holding eye contact.

not good.

“huh? what do you mean heeseung?”, you pout, acting ever so confused by his accusation, “not on my own?”

“oh come on, the whole class knows it now”, heeseung rolls his eyes, “park sunghoon, rings any bell?”

“oh hoon?”, you grin, covering your mouth and suppressing a small giggle, “he did help me a lot with chemistry, he's so sweet!”

heeseung doesn't realise his face is getting hotter and redder by the minute, both by your presence and the pronunciation of somebody else's name. he has a nickname already? hoon? no way, you have only ever interacted with him, whether it was bickering or asking for notes or silently sitting beside each other. so how did this other guy pop up?

“hoon,” heeseung mumbles his nickname, his eyes searching for something in yours and he doesn't even notice he's sounding jealous, “how are you guys so close already…”

“well he's been tutoring me chemistry for a month now—”

“a month?!”, heeseung's brows lift up and his jaw hangs open.

heeseung doesn't know if he likes your new look, the way the curls of your hair rests on your shoulders, the way your tie is loose from your neck and the way your head tilts to look at his, heeseung's heart skips a beat and it knows something is wrong.

“why? is something—” your lips fall apart, a soft blush takes place on your cheeks and you giggle again, in a teasing tone you nudge heeseung's arm, “aww are you jealous?”

“what? don't be ridiculous now.”

“heeseung is jealous, you are jealous, you are jealous j-e-a-l-o-u-s”, you continue this song, nudging heeseung and teasing him more and more, causing his cheeks to heat up, eyes turning back to the open window and then back to yours.

“shut up y/n, you're not funny”, he scowls, the soft breeze enters the empty classrooms and hits the both of you like a refreshing wave.

and in that moment, through your teasing manner, the empty classroom, the echoes of your laughter and the soft breeze caressing your hair, your long dark hair that matched his and the way his heart skipped a beat, the way his heart always skipped a beat while you were around, he realises it's something good.

“if you shut up now i swear y/n”, heeseung tried and kept his best ‘angry at you’ acting.

“oh really? then why don't you make me?”, a soft chuckle leaves your lips and you squint your eyes.

it happens all so fast, heeseungs soft lips on yours, falling right into place. it tickles you a bit like feathers and pulls you in, until you realise that's his hand snaking around your waist. the kiss was delicate, caring and brought so much warmth from a person you only argued with.

you gasp for air, first one to pull back.

you meet his eyes, scurrying through yours and cheeks all red, probably embarrassed of what he did. the kiss quickly coloured your cheeks, a shy smile playing around your lips and a small glint in your eyes.

“i-i don't know what i did—”

“its okay heeseung”, you shush a nervous heeseung, the proximity increasing the pace of your hearts, “do you like me?”

“i love you”, heeseung answers almost instantly, “i love everything about you.”

“me too”, heeseung is the most relieved as he hears this, that hoon guy got nothing on him now. he's the winner.

“so, are we gonna date then?”, he chuckles.

you nod, “let's surprise the class together!”

lee heeseung doesn't know what he wanted when he got his answer sheets. better marks than y/n, a bickering episode with her, or maybe her to fall in love with her? he doesn't know.

a smirk falls upon his lips and he pulls you closer by your waist. he looked ever so magical and beautiful up close, that you wish the bickering had died down earlier.

“whatever you say, pretty girl”, he leans in for a second kiss, indulging himself more into you, he swears his heart will beat out of the chest as soon as his free hand makes contact with your dark strands of hair.

outside the class stands a grinning jake with a bored sunghoon, and a quite high five is shared between the two, carefully peeking inside.

© bywons, 2024. do not copy, translate or upload any of my works without my permission.

(📌) :: TAGLIST IS OPEN! @euncsace @ii-nu @leaderwon @dimplewonie @yrhome @heartswonn @jwonistic @aaa-sia @ashtxrie @kgneptun @lilacnini @haechansbbg @river-demon-slayer @in-somnias-world @teddywonss @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @mylstserenade @branchrkive @aishigrey @nctislifue @greyminyoon1 @ro-diaries @rikibun @sleepyxxhead @belowbun nets! @/k-labels

[janetlyricbook]

Mulan Jameela - Makhluk Tuhan Paling Sexy (lyrics)❤️

(Lit. "The Sexiest God's Creature")

Intro

1st Verse:

Otakmu sexy, itu terbukti

Your brain is sexy, it's proven

Dari caramu memikirkan aku

From the way you think about me

Matamu sexy, itu terbukti

Your eyes are sexy, it's proven

Dari caramu menatap aku

From the way you look at me

Aku seperti ada

Feels like

Di dalam penjara cintamu...

I'm in prison of your love...

Verse 2:

Bibirmu sexy, itu terbukti

Your lips are sexy, it's proven

Dari caramu cium pipiku

From the way you kiss my cheeks

Bibirmu sexy, itu terbukti

Your lips are sexy, it's proven

Dari caramu sebut namaku

From the way you say my name

Aku seperti ada

Feels like

Di dalam penjara cintamu

I'm in prison of your love...

Chorus:

Kamulah makhluk Tuhan

You're a God's creature

Yang tercipta, yang paling sexy

That made to be the sexiest

Cuma kamu yang bisa

Only you can make me

Membuatku terus menjerit

Keep screaming

Aw, aw, aw (ah, ah, ah)

Aw, aw, aw (ah, ah, ah)

Aw, aw, aw (ih, ih, ih)

Aw, aw, aw (eh, eh, eh)

Verse 3:

Hatimu sexy, itu terbukti

Your heart is sexy, it's proven

Dari caramu memeluk hatiku

From the way you hold my heart

Jantungmu sexy, itu terbukti

Your heart is sexy, it's proven

Dari caramu cemburu padaku

From the way you're jealous of me

Aku seperti ada

Feels like

Di dalam penjara cintamu...

I'm in prison of your love...

Chorus:

Kamulah makhluk Tuhan

You're a God's creature

Yang tercipta, yang paling sexy

That made to be the sexiest

Cuma kamu yang bisa

Only you can make me

Membuatku terus menjerit

Keep screaming

Aw, aw, aw (ah, ah, ah)

Aw, aw, aw (ah, ah, ah)

Aw, aw, aw (ih, ih, ih)

Aw, aw, aw (eh, eh, eh)

Aw, aw, aw (ih, ih, ih)

Aw, aw, aw (eh, eh, eh)

Aw, aw, aw (ih, ih, ih)

Aw, aw, aw (eh, eh, eh)

>Instrumental break<

Bridge:

Kamulah makhluk Tuhan

You're a God's creature

Yang paling sexy, yang paling sexy

The most sexy, the sexiest

Sexy sekali

So sexy

Kamulah makhluk Tuhan...

You're a God's creature...

>gibberish<

>instrumental break<

Chorus:

Kamulah makhluk Tuhan

You're a God's creature

Yang tercipta, yang paling sexy

That made to be the sexiest

Cuma kamu yang bisa

Only you can make me

Membuatku terus menjerit

Keep me screaming

Kamulah makhluk Tuhan

You're a God's creature

Yang tercipta, yang paling sexy

That made to be the sexiest

Cuma kamu yang bisa

Only you can make me

Membuatku terus menjerit

Keep me screaming

Aw, aw, aw (ah, ah, ah)

Aw, aw, aw (ah, ah, ah)

Aw, aw, aw (ih, ih, ih)

Aw, aw, aw (eh, eh, eh)

Aw, aw, aw (ih, ih, ih)

Aw, aw, aw (eh, eh, eh)

Aw, aw, aw (ih, ih, ih)

Aw, aw, aw (eh, eh, eh)

***

Feeling nostalgic with this song. I remembered listening this through my auntie's phone and even a radio on my MP3 player❤️❤️.

It's a crossover between an Arabic traditional music and Indonesian pop rock which makes it 10x perfect (and sexier) plus the music video where the singer dresses as an Arabic princess while dancing.

I know this song's title a little naughty but who cares, many Indonesians loved it including me😍😍💖💖.

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Fic Titles: Song Edition

Part VI

Teach me how to get my smile back - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, HAN feat. BAE

You keep a lot of secrets (and I keep none) - Fireproof, The National

Too much darkness for a rainbow - Gone, Rosé

I always say goodbye - World spins madly on, The Weepies

We can set the world on fire - You are the solution, Loving Caliber

Drop a single tear drop - Tomboy, (G)I-DLE

I still dream of you - Ghost towns, Radical Face

Love is not a competition - Collide, Rachel Platten

Demons are friends, angels are enemies - @ my worst, blackbear

We're such a mess together - Using you, Mars Argo

I've found a love to love like no other can - Nara, alt-J

All for freedom and for pleasure - Everybody wants to rule the world, Tears for Fears

Why you asking? (No, I'm not ok) - Not ok, Loco feat. Minnie

In the fantasy it's so convincing - Dirty thoughts, Chloe Adams

The only memory is us kissing in the moonlight - Can't remember to forget you, Shakira feat. Rihanna

Searching for something that ain't lost - Don't waste my time, Victor Lundberg

A little more delicate - Clementine, Sarah Jaffe

Tonight we are victorious - Victorious, Panic! at the Disco

I want you so much, but I hate your guts - Landfill, Daughter

Your idols betray you/Your heroes will fail you/′Cause we are no saints - We are no saints, Blind Channel

Are we best friends? Are we somethin' in between that? - Heartbeat, Childish Gambino

'Cause sometimes the wrong ones are just what you need - James has changed, Phoebe Ryan

Heart made of glass, my mind of stone - Lovely, Billie Eilish & Khalid

Chasing visions of our futures - Youth, Daughter

Why is love so contradicting? - Contradicting, Hyunjin

I wanna be found by you - Adore, Amy Shark

Somebody might die (but nobody gets hurt) - Honey, Måneskin

The history books forgot about us - Samson, Regina Spektor

I like us better when we're intertwined - Cool, Dua Lipa

Baby don't go away (love me like you loved me) - Miserable (You & Me), HAN

More titles!

[cookiekissers]

I won't be replying directly to this request because it was anonymous, but for the future please remember to send off anon if you want nsfw. I can't guarantee or verify your age because anyone can lie about their age when they're on anon!

🔥🔞[Short Spicy Fic + Burning Spice NSFT HCs]

You stare up at the towering giant of a Cookie looming over you. His hair was dark, long, and wild. He had a muscular build, strong arms, and a large, well-defined chest. The guy was stacked, especially in the chest region. It was impossible not to let your gaze wander down his form. Now, this was one handsome Cookie.

"You. Cookie. On your knees. Bow to the Great Destroyer!" Burning Spice Cookie commanded. You blinked in confusion.

During your travels through the sands of this land, you saw many statues dedicated to "The Great Destroyer." Though the Cookie was handsome, he didn't look anything like those giant, beastly statues.

You snickered playfully.

"Heh, really, you? The Beast of Destruction? You sure about that, handsome?" You tease.

You opened your mouth to fire another flirtatious comment at the stranger when he suddenly lifted you by your hips and slammed you against the steep rock wall, knocking the breath from your lungs. Burning Spice's large, muscular body pressed up against you, caging you in with ease. He stared down at you, the heat in his eyes scorching you to your very core. You felt yourself flush, feeling as vulnerable as ever under his hungry gaze. Burning Spice growled low in his throat, his tongue swiping over his lips, eyeing you with a growing lust.

"Very brave of you to speak to me that way, little Cookie." He commended. "But I'll show you what the Beast of Destruction is capable of and why I earned that title." Burning Spice grinned. His voice turned husky, his words full of promise. You gulped, trying desperately not to fidget. Burning Spice leaned forward, capturing your lips roughly. His hot kiss filled you with a fiery need as your tongue tingled and burned with a sweet, addicting heat. Your legs quickly wrapped around Burning Spice's waist, and he wasted no time grinding himself between your legs, his eagerness showing itself quickly.

You gasped as Burning Spice Cookie pulled away to focus on your neck, covering it in feverish kisses that leave behind a tingling sensation. It was one that you couldn't get enough of. His sharp, golden teeth sunk into your crispy dough, and a sudden yelp from you made him chuckle in triumph. The Beast's grinding had become quicker and more desperate. You hung on, your fingers tangling in his black locks as his teeth remained clamped on your throat. Slowly, you could feel something rubbing against you in Burning Spice Cookie's loose pants.

"The destruction I cause on Earthbread will be nothing compared to what I will do you, my little Cookie~" The Beast rumbled fervently.

You panted, your face flushed and your stomach tying itself in knots at Burning Spice's husky voice in your ear. The friction he was giving you only made you feel hotter, and your head spun.

Once he released your throat from his jaws to shove his tongue down your throat, you took the initiative. You wrapped your arms around his neck eagerly, surprising him with a steamy kiss of your own. Burning Spice Cookie wasn't rough in that moment, it almost seemed sweet the way he squeezed you tightly, kissing you deeply and grinding up against you. You drew back slightly, panting.

"Well then, go ahead. Destroy me, Daddy,~" You purred seductively, teasing him further, your hands trailing over his chest and shoulders. Burning Spice Cookie grinned widely at the invitation, and he reached down and ripped your pants off your body.

🔥[HEAD CANONS]

You can't tell me after spending centuries locked in a magical prison he isn't going to be pent up and horny. Showing clear interest in him and teasing him is going to get you a one way ticket to pound town. Burning Spice won't even care if you two do it out in the open, he's horny and he wants you NOW.

Yeah, he would definitely fuck you in front of his spice army. Just to make sure that everyone knows that you're his.

I hc that the Beasts are much larger than the average Cookie, Burning Spice especially. And of course, being a big guy, his dick is huge lmao

Call him "Daddy" and he will go crazy. You won't be leaving him for a while or walking when its over.

He loves cumming inside and filling you over and over. He gets unexpectedly mushy and cuddly after a breeding session.

Burning Spice is the definition of Spicy. His internal temperature is far higher than the average Cookie's and his cum is no exception! It's hot, literally, but thankfully not hot enough to cause injury, but it does take a little bit to get used to.

I imagine him to be the type to be ok with a friends with benefits type of agreement, only to get needy for you frequently, and realize in the middle of fucking that he's balls deep in love with you hjghfjgf

He doesn't like anyone else touching what is his. Any Cookie tries to hit you up he's grabbing his axe and not holding anything back.

Loves biting you while he fucks you hard. Its one of his favourite things, and you will often be covered in bite marks.

When out in public, he will be his usual self. But when in private with you, the tiniest amount of his old self from before his corruption will come out. But these occasions are rare.

Burning Spice will probably prioritize his pleasure over your own, but he's not going to leave you unsatisfied.

He's a top/dom, and does not tolerate anything else. He likes having control over you during sex and enjoys ravaging you until you pass out.

Is lowkey a bit into degradation. Will call you a cumslut, boy toy, pet, daddy's dirty boy, daddy's cock slave, ect

[yeonjuns-beanie]

As It Was

warnings: 18+, weed usage, smut, unprotected sex, soulmate au(kind of), little hatefuckin before real fucking, reader is a brat, mentions of suicide, oral(f receiving, logan is an EATER), claws come out when he…, little bit of primal play, breeding kink, daddy kink, implied age gap cuz i think it’s hot, im prolly gonna write him like an animal, think that’s it!! LOL

Logan Howlett x female!reader

summary: after saving his world from extinction, wade brings home a wolverine. you feel a tether to him but can't quite figure out what it is, but logan does. as the days go by you slowly chip away at the wall between you two and things slowly return to as it was.

word count: 4.5k

title is inspired by the hozier song of the same name....

It’s been three months now and you still couldn’t figure out the pull you felt toward Logan. The moment Wade brought him through the door, Mary Puppins in hand, you felt a tie to him. Now, it was as if the Red String of Fate was punishing you for not remembering your connection with him. It was haunting, aggravating, and pushing you towards sexual frustration because no matter how much you tried to remember, your thoughts would instantly become clouded with your attraction to him. He was brooding, grumpy, and humorous when he wanted to. The stoic exterior of him was just that, a shell. You just weren’t quite sure how to crack his nut yet.

You were sat in the main room of the apartment grinding up some green to pack a morning bowl. As you were getting ready to fill the glass you heard Wade’s voice echo through the apartment.

“You always grind Aunt Mary so hard. Don’t you think she would like to be loved tenderly, sugarbear?”

“And the last time I gave you the grinder there might as well have been a whole nug in the bowl. You damn near burned half my stash.”

“You’d think living with three addicts would be fun, but it’s more like babysitting toddlers fighting to see who can ruin my day first. Spoiler: it’s everyone.”

You chuckled, slotting the bowl into the joint of the bong, and pointed at Wade with it.

“You wanna hit this or not?”

“‘Course I do. How could I pass up a wake n bake with my girl?”

Wade jogged over to you, plopping dramatically on the seat next to you. Rolling your eyes, you took the first hit letting Wade finish off the remaining smoke in the shaft. Exhaling you spoke while the smoke billowed out of your mouth.

“Wade, baby, I love you, but I’m not your girl. What about Nessa?”

Before he spoke, he had his coughing fit like clockwork. Every time, no matter the method, resulted in a cough so bad he looked like a drooling dog. It was free entertainment but you tried your hardest not to laugh out loud because every time you did, it made it worse.

You couldn’t hold it

It was like watching a court jester and when Wade finally caught his breath he was staring off at a wall in the apartment mindlessly reaching for the glass. When his hand was left fondling the air reaching nothing, you let your laugh echo through the apartment.

“You sure you want another one?”

“Just gimme the weed, gorgeous. And to answer your question. Vanessa and I are on a break of sorts, but I’m wounded that I now have lost you too. It’s cause I brought Peanut here isn’t it?”

Wade was feigning heartbreak, just busting your balls in an effort to see if you’d crack. Your relationship was always like this and that was probably why you two got along so well. Nothing was ever too serious and yet still completely vulnerable. As wild as he was, Wade was a safe space for you and for some reason this morning, you felt like sharing.

“Perhaps.”

His head whipped so fast you thought it’d fly off. Coupled with his dramatic gasp and chest grab you nearly regretted your admission.

“I knew it!”

“Will you keep it down, it’s not that serious.”

“Au contraire. This is probably the most serious thing since Blind Al ran out of Peruvian marching powder.”

Rolling your eyes, you swallowed your pride as you knew Wade wouldn’t let it go until you told him every detail possible. As much as you pretended you hated divulging this information, it was kinda nice to let out to somebody. You’d been wrestling with so many feelings since Wade brought Logan to stay with you guys and the weight of it was becoming painful.

“Well, he’s hot obviously.”

“Tell me something more interesting, we all disrespectfully gawk at the honey badger.” Wade quipped.

“The problem is I feel this weird attachment to him. Like I’ve known him before. Maybe we met before they tried their best to wipe my memory, but I can’t shake this one. I’m drawn to him but he won’t let anyone get close enough to figure that out.”

You had your own run-in with the TVA a few years ago and instead of dumping you into the void, they were nice enough to plop you in Earth-10005. You were grateful considering the stories of this barren garbage heap that Wade and Logan told you about but you couldn’t remember why they sent you here in the first place.

You had no real memory of your life before this or what you did that fucked you up so badly. It always haunted you. Maybe you were a murderer. A merciless killer and that’s why they snagged you. A similar fate to Wade’s but they decided somewhere that you weren’t equipped for the job and the TVA orphaned you to another universe.

You weren’t complaining, you loved the life that you had now you just wanted to remember the rest of you. You were roaming this universe, a husk of your former self and no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that it didn’t bother you, it did. It kept you up at night. Until Logan walked through the apartment door.

Slowly, things started to reveal themselves to you but only in a dream. You were forced to piece together your life with the shattered fragments of what your dreamscape gave you to work with. You’d wake up from the most vivid dreams only to remember one instance where you were walking down a street, the sky pouring rain in a godly attempt to cleanse you. Your hands were always coated in crimson when you looked down.

It’d come in flashes and it’d end just as fast. You were patient with yourself but a lot of times you tried to drown out the feeling with various substances. Weed being your vice of choice as alcohol made you suffer. Making you wish that an attempt of self-mutilation or the bittersweet release of dancing with death while your wrists stained the floor garnet succeeded.

They never did.

So you tried your best to make peace with your life and you were doing alright until Logan showed up. Now the universe was mocking you. Testing to see if you’d slip up and forget everything you learned.

“I think he’d like to figure you out, y/n. Do with that what you will.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Wade shrugged his shoulders handing you the bong back. As he stood up you took one last hit and left the glass piece on the table. As you exhaled, Logan’s voice pierced through the silence.

“Jesus. D’ya have to stink up the apartment with that shit? Can’t go outside?”

“Easy, peanut. The art of the wake n bake is sacred. Plus, talk to the gardener if you have requests to make, not me.”

Wade pointed to you as he wandered off into the kitchen and you reached for the bong motioning it to Logan.

“Wanna hit?”

Logan hit you with a short ‘no’ and it almost hurt your feelings. Your gaze flicked over to Wade who was mouthing to you something you couldn’t quite make out but he was pointing to Logan while doing it. Your brain spazzed for a moment before coming up with a response as you stood.

“You want coffee or something, Lo?”

“Sure, kid.”

You walked into the kitchen with Wade and started whispering to him.

“What the fuck? Of course, he comes out while I’m blowing up the house.”

“I don’t see why you’re worried, he doesn’t seem upset.”

You turned around trying your best not to look suspicious.

“Yes, the fuck he does. I’m gonna fuck this up before I even get the chance to start-”

“-You two morons know I can hear you, right?”

You hung your head in defeat finishing up the two cups before setting one in front of Logan and holding yours while you stood. The air was thick, but not uncomfortable. It just felt like everyone needed to get something off their chest and didn’t know how to start. Before you opened your mouth to speak, Wade’s voice cut you off while he sent a text message.

“Well, I’m gonna leave you lovebirds to it. I’ve got a pegging date.”

Again. Mocking you. The universe seemed to just have it out for you and apparently, today was the day of honesty. You took a seat across from Logan wondering where to direct the conversation.

“You hungry? I can make us something.”

“I’m alright kid, not too keen on stoner food in the morning.”

“Hey, I’m still a good cook when I’m cooked. I just wanted to offer.” You paused.

“Also if you have a problem with it, I’ll find a new spot. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“No need. Just giving you guys a hard time. We all have something to cope with our shit.”

You nodded knowing he was referencing his drinking habit, or problem if we were feeling honest. You left your coffee cup on the table and stood up, wanting to Irish goodbye in your own home. But you didn’t want to add any more bricks to this wall even though it felt like the silence was already doing so.

“Well, um. I’m gonna chill out for a bit in my room if you need anything.”

He hummed to let you know he heard you and you walked down the hallway to your bedroom before stopping in your tracks. Something possessed you and you had to get this out. The test was walking away and if you finished that journey into your bedroom and locked the door, nothing would be resolved. Turning on your heel, you walked back into the kitchen and faced Logan.

“Why do you hate me?”

He nearly choked on his coffee, the noise echoing in the cup.

“What?”

You sighed, trying to not feel silly about your admission.

“Why do you hate me? And if you don’t, why do you act like it? It’s so hard to get through to you and it feels like I’m talking to a fucking wall.”

“Kid-”

“And stop ‘kid’ing me! If it’s out of endearment it doesn’t feel like it.”

Your heart rate was rising and you could feel your skin getting hot. The months of pent up emotions were finally boiling over and you couldn’t stop it. You needed to know why.

“What is it then, y/n?”

“Why can’t I get through to you? Every time I try, you shut me down by being curt with me and I’m left with the same feeling as before. I can’t shake this feeling that I know you and I can’t even get close to you without you shoving me away like I have a fatal disease. So why, Logan? All I wanna know is why?”

He sighed knowing there was no easy way to escape this.

“Kid–sorry. It’s complicated. I know that feeling. I feel it too, but I know why it’s there and I don’t want to fuck it up again.”

Again?

“What do you mean again?”

Logan sighed and said nothing. Hanging his head in what you thought was shame but most definitely could be avoidance. It frustrated you even more so because why couldn’t he just talk to you?

“Here we go again, nothing?! Is it so hard to just say what this is?”

“It’s not that simple, bub.”

You scoffed and turned around to walk to your room. You needed to clear your head because it was more than apparent that a solution would not be provided for you. Logan didn’t have the courage to reveal what he knew so a walk away from him would have to suffice.

“Y/n! Where are you going?”

“I need to clear my head since obviously you don’t have the gall to tell me what the fuck is going on.”

Slipping your shoes on, you tried to move past Logan but he was blocking the doorway.

“Move.”

“Y/n. Just-”

“I said move, Logan.”

One wall after another you kept hitting, except this one was physically him. He nearly filled up the doorway and his frame was imposing. You tried to figure out how you’d slip past him but you were so heated that you were about to settle for dramatics before he moved his body just enough for you to slip past. You stared at him, looking for something in his eyes to tell you to stay but it just made you more irritated. You walked down the hallway and almost made it to the door before you felt his hand wrap around your wrist.

“Do you get a kick out of torturing me or something?”

“Sweetheart, if you just—just sit down and let me say what I need to say.”

“Oh, now you wanna fucking talk. Let go of me. I’m not in the mood to talk anymore.”

Logan’s grip on you tightened as you struggled against him and you pushed on his chest trying to get him off of you. He was stunned by your actions and so were you but you couldn’t stop. You kept pushing him away from you until he grabbed your upper arms stabilizing you but you still were pressing your hands against his chest. He was calling your name trying to calm you down but you were too lost in your emotions. You thrashed your head up, trying to plead with him silently to let you go even though you knew that was the last thing you wanted.

When your eyes met his, one of his hands cradled the back of your head and before you could register it, his lips were slotted against yours in a moment of desire and exasperation. Bated breath, fury, and sexual confusion fueled the kiss but you’d be a liar to say you didn’t enjoy this feeling. His body flesh against yours, the heat bouncing between the two of you nearly suffocating and it had only been seconds. Logan had you pressed against the wall his hands roaming the curves of your body and his knee slotted itself in between your thighs, completely caging you against him.

He pushed his knee up into the apex of your thighs applying a delicate pressure to your center. You moaned against him, your body rolling your hips into the feeling. His hands were roaming over your body in a frenzy, like if he didn’t touch you fast enough you’d disappear. Your hands wrapped into his hair, pulling on his sandy brown locks as you tried to stabilize yourself into the feeling.

Logan pulled away from you, a string of spit the only thing left connecting you two until it broke and you felt the cold air vaporize the heat on your swollen lips. You were staring at his features, locked in his gaze hoping that if you didn’t break eye contact he’d stay right here. His gruff voice broke the heady silence.

“Since you wanna be a brat and not talk anymore, I have no choice but to show you how I feel, sugar.”

Logan slid his hands down until they were underneath the swell of your ass and told you to jump. As your legs wrapped around his waist, he walked down the hallway to your room. His senses were incredibly heightened at this moment and when he breached the threshold of your room, he was intoxicated by the smell of you swirling the room.

As he laid you down on your bed, your scent wafted off of the sheets with a gentle breeze and he was soon surrounded by a nest of you and your arousal. He prowled over your body, taking you in and memorizing every inch of you, how you were restless against him, and how your lower half mindlessly moved against him in desperate need of some sort of friction.

He uttered a low growl against you as he snaked up to your neck leaving a string of hot kisses against your skin. The scruff of his beard nearly overstimulated you and had you clawing at his skin, frantic in your efforts, soft moans escaped your lips in wordless need of feeling something more.

“Don’t wanna talk but I got you whimpering for me, huh princess?”

“Lo-”

“Shh, baby. I got you.”

Logan bit your ear, pulling at the skin before he tugged at the bottom of your shirt and you lifted your back just enough so that he could slip it off of you. Your upper body was fully exposed to him as your tits pancaked on your chest. As he lowered his face back down to your body, he trailed down your skin with his nose inhaling every last inch of you. The action was so subdued in comparison to the rest of his demeanor that you got completely lost in the feeling.

As his face met your stomach, the scent of your arousal was incredibly inebriating, deluging his mind with salacity. He traced the waistband of your shorts with his nose, encasing his teeth around the elastic piece of fabric before replacing his mouth with his hands as he languidly pulled them down your legs. Tossing them across the room he looked up at you.

“You want this?”

“Please.” You mewled out.

Logan shoved his nose against your panties inhaling your scent before rubbing your bud through the fabric as he came back up your body to capture your lips in a searing kiss. He pulled your panties from your body, your slick stretching as the fabric left your messy lips. The cool air was welcomed but was soon replaced by the warmth of Logan’s mouth against your petals.

He lapped at you like a dog. A wanton primal need taking over his senses. He wanted to be enveloped in you and you in him. In every timeline, he’d claim you and this one was no different. You tangled your hands in his hair, rolling your pussy into his face as he sloppily ate you out. His hands were wrapped around your hips holding you in place as he greedily drank you in.

You could feel the spit dripping down your folds and forming a cool pool of fervour beneath your skin. Eyes rolling back in ecstasy you could feel your orgasm begin to settle in your lower stomach, heat rippling across your skin. Your moans increased in frequency but became more breathy in nature as you came closer to your high.

Logan’s hand snaked up your curves and his fingers teased your nipples, pulling and pinching at the sensitive skin as he felt your body grow more tense with desire. Dragging his calloused hands down your body one last time, he inserted a finger into your wet, libertine cavern and you sucked him in with need. The stretch of him adding a second finger pushing you right to your edge as he curled them inside of you.

“Lo- I’m gonna-”

“I know, sugar. Let it out. Lemme hear you”

He immediately put his tongue back on your clit, and let you ride out your high against his face. Your moans gained volume completely immersed in the pleasure. When the ripples of euphoria finally dwindled, you looked down at Logan and pulled him up to your face so you could kiss him. The tang of your sex was still present on his lips and it ignited something within you.

“You got too many fuckin clothes on, Daddy.”

You were breathless. Lost in a licentious rhapsody as you had him hovering over your body and when Logan paused his movements to look at you, you thought you ruined the moment. He could smell the change in you and spoke before you had the chance to apologize for nothing.

“Say it again.”

He could feel you heartbeat pounding in your chest, arousal returning to the forefront of your mind.

“Wanna see you. Feel all of you, Daddy.”

Your voice was dripping sex, his personal psychedelic. He freed himself from his beater and you palmed his bulge through his sweats. Slipping your hand past the waistband, you stroked his heavy cock.

“Lemme make you feel good.”

You were getting ready to flip your bodies over, but Logan pinned you to the bed his eyes boring through you. You felt so small underneath him, like he could do whatever he wanted to you and you’d let him. When he spoke he broke you from the trance.

“Another time, sweetheart. This is about showing you how I feel about you since my baby needs me to spell it out for her.”

Slipping out of his sweats his cock was on full display, so heavy that it didn’t have the spring to bounce against his stomach. It hung in front of him, heady and in desperate need to be inside of you. Precum and prurience leaked from his tip. Logan crawled on top of you, the tip of his cock rubbing between your folds, coating your slick across his shaft.

“Tell me what you want. Tell me how you want me to fuck you.”

You squeezed around nothing, the action not going unnoticed by Logan. You mewled against him, just wanting him to ravish you in every way possible. You wanted to be marked, for everyone to see that you belonged to him but you couldn’t find the words to articulate this feeling while this sexual heat was radiating off of your bodies and numbing your mind.

Logan slowly pushed his tip into your rapt cunt before pulling it out and sliding it against your clit. The withdrawal of pleasure bringing you to your senses.

“I want you to make me yours. Wanna belong to you, Lo.”

You were wanton with need. The desire for him became nearly unbearable and it was all soon resolved as he pushed his cock past your pious walls, defiling you of any innocence you had left. You wanted to be claimed, he’d claim you. Animal instinct took over as he rocked his hips into your cunt, your walls fluttering around him in ardor. Low growls left his throat as he nipped at the skin on your neck, alternating between kissing the marks and swiping them with his tongue. He was marking you, making you his own.

It was like he couldn’t get close enough to you as he thrusted into you. His arms wrapped around your body as you fell limp to the pleasure. You felt another orgasm on the horizon and you tried your best to warn Logan by sinking your nails into his back, leaving red trails of morbid desire to mark him as yours. You didn’t realize the amount of pressure you were putting on his skin, but the groans that left him had that concern pushed to the back of your mind. Your orgasm washed over you and your pussy squeezed so tight around him that you nearly pushed him out of you. You were entranced, drunk on him and his cock, still desperate for more.

It was like he could hear your thoughts because as soon as you thought of a second round, Logan was flipping you on your hands and knees and you arched your back as he rubbed his hand along the small of it, accentuating your arch. His cock filled your sugared walls one more time and as he buried himself to the hilt. Wrapping a hand around your neck, he brought your body flesh against his.

“Gonna fuckin breed you. Never gonna forget you who belong to, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help the preemptive squeezing of his cock at the mention of him breeding you. The thought of him filling you with all of him was grossly erotic and Logan took the chance to taunt you.

“Oh? You like that, huh? Want daddy to breed your pretty little pussy?”

You hummed, your eyes lidded as you tried to see him over your shoulder. Sweat was sticking your bodies together and you only noticed how hot it was between the two of you when he pushed your body forward, cool air hitting your back as he began to mold your cunt to the shape of his cock. His tip was kissing your cervix and repeatedly hit that spot deep inside of you that made you squirm against his body.

His thrusts were becoming sloppy, his breaths ragged and you could feel your third orgasm of the night creeping on you. Low growls complimented the whimpers that were leaving your mouth and being somewhat muffled by the fabric of your sheets. You couldn’t hold his hips against you to ensure that he stayed inside so you just whimpered out a small ‘inside’ as you felt your orgasm begin to wash over your body.

Logan wasn’t far behind, one hand resting on your hips and his other by your head steadying himself above you. Sinking his teeth into your neck, you cried out in avidity and rapture filled his veins before painting his seed across your walls. You heard a faint schwing and as you opened your eyes, you saw that his claws were extended. As you moved your hips back into him to fuck you through the rest of your high, you accidentally nicked yourself on one of his blades. He hissed against you uttering a strained ‘don’t move’ as the luxuria dissipated in his body.

As he calmed down, his claws retracted back into skin and he gently rolled you over to gaze over your features. He moved a few sweat-stricken pieces of hair off of your face and placed a gentle kiss on your lips, which was such a contrast from before. Pulling out of you he pushed himself off the bed.

“Be right back.”

Returning with a warm towel, he cleaned you up and grabbed a shirt from one of your drawers waiting for you to put it in before sliding next to you in the bed. You curled into him, tracing patterns into his chest. Looking up at him, you felt none of the tension from before in the room and you decided that this would be the time.

“So, what did you mean by ‘again’ earlier?”

Logan sighed but not out of exasperation like it was earlier, it was softer this time.

“In my world, we were together. That’s the pull you feel. But in like so many other areas in that timeline, I fucked up and I lost you. I’d rather have kept you at a distance than not have you at all, but I fucked that up too, now.”

He laughed the last bit out, a touch of humor apparent in his delivery. Sighing, you felt like something could work here between the two of you.

“Well, whenever you’re ready to tell me what happened between your timeline’s me and you, I’ll wait patiently for it. But until then, know that you’re not losing me here. I’m yours as long as you want me.”

You didn’t expect a response from him, nor did you feel like you really needed one. You wanted to relish in this moment between the two of you and soon enough sleep overtook both of your forms.

© yeonjuns-beanie '24

~Just as it was, baby Before the otherness came And I knew its name The love, the dark, the light, the flame~

[reallyromealone]

Sebastian michaelis x demon/vampire butler reader? Omegaverse perhaps?

Title: a bit bitey

Fandom:black butler

Characters: Ciel, Sebastian

Fic type: fluff, omegaverse, suggestive content

Pairings:

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, omegaverse, fluff, suggestive themes, vampire reader

Notes: IM BAAAAAACK >:)

Summary: Reader is a vampire who drinks the blood of alphas who fall for his charms and gets mistaken for Jack the Ripper and gets chased by Sebastian and offered a position be can't refuse

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

It was said that when a demon bedded a witch that it would create something truly unholy that would walk the earth craving human flesh, unable to touch the sun.

It's why (name) found his home in London, a lovely home with his centuries accumulated wealth and all his trinkets over the years scattered around, like a museum of his immortality.

"I was so hungry..." (Name) Sighed, the Omega watching as the man dropped to the ground, body drained of all blood and (name) licked his lips, a bit of blood on his top lip. A sense of euphoria washed over the Omega who let out a sigh before stepping over the dead alpha, seeing a wanted poster for Jack the Ripper, whoever that guy was sure made feedings easy...

It was the dead of night, no one really in the streets and the oil lamps lighting his path home, a pep in his step and soft humming could be heard.

He was always so happy after a good feeding.

"There he is! Sebastian, get him!" A child's voice could be heard and (name) turned to lock eyes with a deep red pair... A demon.

(Name) Immediately bolted, the young blue eyed boy going into his carriage to wait while his demon stalked down the street.

Running through alleyways and corners, (name) was thankful for his speed and lack of footsteps, slipping into his bedroom door and closing it with a sigh.

Safe.

"Fu--" (name) was pinned to the ground by the black haired alpha, arms pinned to his side "you know, people would typically take one on a romantic stroll or maybe a dinner before doing something like this" (name) snarled at the alpha who wasn't even remotely phased "you have been causing problems..." Sebastian said casually, eyeing the Omega who huffed "I'm simply having dinner" (name) didn't particularly care for the humans, really seeing them as food "you killed five prostitutes"

Huh?

"My apologies but I don't pursue other omegas" (name) said simply "I pursue alphas, they're easier" Sebastian stared him down, looking for any trade if a lie but when he found nothing he let go of his wrists but stayed on the vampires hips "is there anything else I can assist you with Sbeastian?" Remembering the name the boy called the demon "are you looking for employment?" Sebastian asked curiously, (name) raising an eyebrow at the question.

"What are you on about?"

"I can offer you something, an exchange"

"What could you possibly offer me?"

"Demon blood in exchange for employment" (name) didn't need money, he didn't need items or anything material as he lived for centuries and had an Elizabethan era outfit in a chest in the attic of his home. "You are willing to give me your blood?" (Name)s eyes were blown out while moving to touch the others cold neck, right around his jugular "no more attacking humans, work under me and you get demonic blood" demonic blood was like a fine wine to a vampire, addictive and delicious.

Sebastian could smell the omegas pharamones even when masked, biting his lips "do you know what you're asking of me, alpha?"

"I am well aware of what in asking, Omega" Sebastian whispered, getting closer to the other "I'm half human, do you think you can handle my mortal emotions? I am very high maintenance" (name) didn't flinch, the twos lips barely touching and eyes locking "I think I can manage, humans are needy creatures"

"Half human"

"Ah yes, like a mutt"

(Name) Glared "my my what a charmer, can you please kindly get your flat bottom off me alpha?" (Name) Batted his eyes "don't you have your child to tend to?"

"Do you accept my offer?"

"I suppose I will become your mate..." (Name) Huffed, looking at the alpha who was now his mate "my heat is in two weeks, I will be having it here and I will be keeping my residence for such matters or if you annoy me too much"

Sebastian silently chuckled at the Omega he chose, a snarky vampire who didn't care for silly human traditions on being an Omega.

This was going to be fun.

[xoxozoro]

you're... me?

synopsis: the monster trio meet their older selves... but with a little spice

characters: luffy, zoro, sanji

genre: fluff, a little bit of cracks

warnings: a bit suggestive in sanji's part (bc you know... he's kind of a pervert)

masterlist. part two (coming soon)

luffy :

"Huh?" the black haired pirate frowned in confusion when he opened his eyes, "Where am I?"

The Straw Hat pirates were looking down at their older captain who laid on the bed inside Chopper's office. The younger Luffy looked at his older self with a frown, inching his face closer to his older self, "You... you look familiar..."

Without a doubt, he was an older Luffy. But the real question was more... how the hell did he ended up here?

The older Luffy adverted his eyes away from his younger self, his eyes widening at the sight. It was his crew standing in front of him, but somehow they all looked younger...

"What happened- did we beat that guy?!" He straightened up suddenly, catching the pirates off guard, "Tell me, Zoro- Did I beat him?"

The older captain looked at the swordsman with big eyes, making the green haired look at his crewmates in confusion, "Well... since you're here right now... I'd say no- you didn't beat the guy"

"Wha..." Old Luffy frowned, but visibly softened when he made eye contact with a familiar pair of eyes. He straightened his arms wrapping them around your body, making you send a look to your favorite navigator, "(Y/n)!"

He threw himself on your body, almost knocking your over in the process. Older Luffy wrapped his legs around your waist clinging into you like a Koala, "(Y/n), you tell me... did I beat the guy?"

Your older captain hid his face in the crock of your neck, causing your present captain to glare at his older self, "I'm not sure, Luffy, but-"

"Luffy...?" The older captain pulled away from your neck looking at you with teary eyes, "Are you mad at me?"

The Straw Hat pirates looked at their older captain... was he really crying?

"W-What?! Of course not!" You softly replied trying to calm him down as he sat on the ground, "Why do you think that?"

"B-Because you never call me Luffy!" The older captain whined- and to think that your captain would've matured over the years...

"What do I call you normally then?" You asked, fumbling backwards when Luffy wrapped his arms around your waist once more.

"You don't remember...?" Luffy quietly spoke, "You always call me love... or darling."

You blinked repeatedly in surprise. Do you really call your captain 'love' in the future?

Sanji almost fell on the ground at the revelation, putting two and two together. Zoro smirked slightly when he finally understood, he sent a knowing look at his present time captain as he asked, "And how do you call her, Luffy?"

"Hah?" The older Luffy frowned at the swordsman, "What do you mean, Zoro? I call her "(Y/n)" obviously! That's her name after all!"

Robin slyly smirked at the two, "And... what did you say your relationship with (Y/n) was?"

"She's my girlfriend!" Older Luffy stated proudly, "But you know that... you're the one who told me to confess-"

With a quick punch, the older Luffy got thrown away from you landing on his face as he hit the ground. The present time Luffy slowly walk in front of you, tightly clenching his fists, "Who the hell do you think you are?!"

The older Luffy jumped up, titling his head to the side, "I'm Luffy! The King of the-"

"I am Luffy!" Young Luffy pointed at his older self, "Clearly you are just a weird me- So you can't just hug her like that! We don't even know you!"

"Don't know me?!" Old Luffy walked so that he was now face to face to his young self, "She's my girlfriend you idiot- so back the hell up-"

"Luffy..." Usopp spoke up, placing a hand on his young captain's shoulder, "Let me explain something to you."

After what seemed like an eternity, young Luffy finally understood the situation. Much to his older self dismay- "Let go of her!- Hey don't touch me!-

The older Luffy was being held back by Zoro and Franky as he disparately tried to get his younger self off you.

"No." Young Luffy cockily smiled at him, his body pressed unto you with his face pressed against your chest, "She's my (Y/n)- so go find yours!"

zoro :

"Hah? You two aren't dating yet? Shit my bad."

The older green haired swordsman fakely apologized to his younger self and the pretty girl beside him.

You snapped your head to look a the present Zoro, your face turning into one of disgust.

"Dating?!" The flirty cook was glaring at the older swordsman from afar, not believing that the two of them could possibly bee dating in the futur, "And you expect us to believe that Marimo?!"

It was no secret for anyone, you and Zoro hated each other's guts. So the idea of the two of them dating was kind of hard to believe.

"Eh?" The older Zoro glared at the younger cook, "I don't care if you believe me or not! You, come with me." The older swordsman then grabbed the collar of his younger self, ignoring his complains as he pulled to a more isolated place of the Sunny away from the loud crew.

"The hell you want, old man-?" The young Zoro asked as they came to a stop.

The older swordsman took a deep breath, gripping harder on his younger self collar, "I want you to listen carefully to what I'm about to say, kid."

"Kid-?!"

"If you mess up what I have with (Y/n) now, I swear on her life that I will find a way to hurt you and make you regret it, are we clear?"

The two swordsman stared are each other, before the younger one broke their eye contact, "How did you... you know?"

The older one laughed loudly when his younger self looked away from him with the red on the tip of his ears, "How did I get with her you mean?"

"You know what- if you're here to laugh I can just-"

"Woah there kid- It was just a joked!" The older Zoro sighed happily, turning his gaze to look at the quiet sea, "I bought her a necklace."

"A necklace." The younger Zoro deadpan at his words, what type of cliché thing was that?!

"I asked Robin to tell me what my birthstone was... and well I bought her a necklace with a green topaz and she never took it ever since..."

The younger Zoro nodded at himself as if doing he was taking notes mentally. The older swordsman sighted once more, "Just don't be scared to show her how you feel- She's kinda oblivious so you're gonna have to tell her that you love her, though"

"Heh?! Who said that I loved her, old man?!"

"You're my mini me, idiot! Obviously I know how you feel!"

sanji :

"Is she- Is she as beautiful as we imagined?"

"Oh~ She's 10 times better then we imagined"

You stood beside Nami with a disgust expression on your face, "I think I'm gonna throw up."

"Pleaseeeee," The pretty ginger laughed, "As if you're not happy that you're dating the love of your life in the future."

"Nami. I told you that when I was drunk!" You hit her shoulder, "You can't use that against me!"

The young Sanji dropped on his knees in front of you, taking your hands in his, his usual charming smile plastering his face. "(Y/n)~ my sweet, beautiful angel please date me-" He got interrupted by his older self.

"You're doing it wrong." He pulled young Sanji off his knees, "Let me show you how to do it."

The older Sanji walked over you, taking your hand in his, while his other arm sneaked around your waist pulling you closer to him. Sanji's blue eyes flickered between your eyes and your mouth, "You have the most beautiful eyes I've ever seen, my love..." He then leaned closer to your lips so that yours and his were brushing against each other.

"You're just... so mesmerizing-"

"Alright!! I get it! Get off her!" The younger Sanji ripped you away from his older self, pulling you against his clothed chest. "You can go back to see your future (Y/n)- this one's mine."

"I was just teaching you the basics, Sanji! No need to get all protective- I get to touch my (Y/n) all the time and anywhere!" Older Sanji lit up the cigarette in his mouth, "But if you want a real tip, take her on a stargazing date, tell her how beautiful she is- because you really are, my angel- and how badly you love her- AND then touch her however you'd like!"

"Watch your mouth!" Nami yelled at the older Sanji. Her eyes then drifted to her two friends who refused to even laid an eye on each other, "huh?"

"Don't worry, love," The older cook reassured the pretty ginger, "I assure you that (Y/n) is more than happy to be with me..."

"Really...." The navigator trusted Sanji with her life- she just didn't trust him with a woman- especially not when the woman is her best friend.

"Yeah," The older man chuckled as he watch his younger self starting to talk to you with blood oozing out of his nose, "She even asked you to be her maid of honour last week- I mean... In three years or so, she'll ask you to be her maid of honour... So have some faith in me, yeah?"

"Her maid of honour...?" Nami looked over at you, your face redder than normal as the younger Sanji whispered sweet nothings in your ears.

"Angel?" the younger cook spoke in your ears as he placed a hand ion your cheek, "Would you like to go stargazing with me tonight?"

You laughed quietly at his words, "Is that a subtle way of asking the permission of touching m-"

"Of course not!" Sanji straightened himself, "You're so much more than a pretty body... Everything about you is just amazing-"

"Ah what a shame..." "Why's that, my love?"

"I would've given you the permission to touch me~"

"(Y/n)! You can't say stuff like that! He'll bleed out!" Chopper yelled as her tried to stop the bleeding from the cook's nose.

"I'll see you tonight, my sweet angel~" Sanji screamed with heart eyes, ignoring the fact that he was bleeding out.

"No you won't!"

note: i love that trio so much ♡