#going to take me a while to get used to her not walking across my keyboard or standing in front of my tv or knocking stuff off my dresser

[xhazzz]

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

Rain Kisses

warning: none, just kissing.

a/n: ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LENGUAGE, so feel free to correct me if there’s anything wrong :)

masterlist || request’s are open

READERS’S POV:

“So… you’ve been going out with Hangman”, Penny teased me while we were getting ready for the bar to open on a few hours.

“In my defense, he’s proven he’s not like the others,” I said, laughing like a fool as memories of our last dates came flooding back.

“And what does your dad think about all this?” she asked with a sly grin.

“Come on, Pen,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “I’m an adult now. I don’t need my dad’s permission to date whoever I want.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” she said, laughing. “Your dad can’t really complain, considering he used to sneak into my room through the window back in the day.”

We both burst out laughing.

“Oh, God, Penny, I don’t want to imagine my dad like that,” I groaned, covering my eyes. “I just hope Hangman doesn’t open his big mouth and say something stupid that’ll get him grounded—or worse, punched by Rooster.”

—————————————-

JAKE’S POV

It had been two days since I last saw Y/N because of work, and I realized something: damn, I missed her. This girl was special.

“Excited to see your girl tonight, Romeo?” Coyote teased as we changed in the locker room.

“More than you know,” I admitted, sounding like some high school kid with his first crush.

“So it’s true, Hangman?” Phoenix chimed in, joining the conversation. “You’ve got the guts to date the boss’s daughter, even with Rooster as her big brother?”

“For God’s sake, it’s not like I’m scared of Chicken,” I said, laughing as I stuffed my dirty clothes into my duffel bag.

“And what does the boss think about all this?” Bob added, sitting on the bench.

“Come on, Bob, we’re not in high school anymore,” Coyote interjected. “I’ll just say it: Hangman hit the jackpot.”

Coyote and Fanboy started clapping like the idiots they were.

“So, how is she, you know, in…?” Fanboy began, smirking like a teenager.

“Watch your mouth, Seresin,” Rooster shouted from across the locker room.

“Relax, Tiger,” Phoenix said quickly. “If she’s Maverick’s daughter, there’s no way she’d let some guy like Bagman get in her pants.”

“I haven’t even kissed her yet,” I admitted with a sigh, slamming my locker shut.

“No way,” Rooster laughed, crossing his arms. “That’s my girl.”

“Not your girl, Chicken,” I corrected. “She’s mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.”

——————————————

READER’S POV

Friday night, the Hard Deck was packed. I was a little disappointed that the Dagger Squad hadn’t shown up yet. I kept busy serving drinks and passing out bottles of beer when someone called out to me from behind.

“Hey, Y/N,” it was Rooster with his ridiculous mustache.

“Hey, Roo,” I said, stepping out from behind the bar to hug him. “I missed you. Haven’t seen you around lately.”

“That’s because you’ve been busy with Bagman,” he teased, playfully nudging my shoulder. “I don’t know what you did, but you’ve got that idiot wrapped around your finger.”

“I hope you’re talking about me,” said a voice behind Rooster. “Because I hope I’m the only one you’re dating”

“Oh my God, Bagman, that’s the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard,” Rooster groaned, wrinkling his nose. “Let me know if he gets out of line, Y/N.”

“I will, Roo, don’t worry.” Bradley kissed my forehead before heading off to join the rest of the pilots.

“I hope you and Bradley are telling the truth and there’s nothing more between you two,” Jake said, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles—a gesture he was starting to make a habit.

“Ew, never,” I quickly said, ducking back behind the bar and handing him a beer. “Bradley’s not my type. Besides, I’m more into blondes.”

I leaned on the bar and winked at him.

“God, you’re amazing,” he said, grinning as he took a sip of his beer. “What time does your shift end?”

“Too bad for you, handsome, I’m staying late tonight.”

“No problem. I’ll wait,” he said charmingly, walking over to the pool table.

The rest of the night, I could feel his eyes on me, and every time I caught him staring, he’d smile like an idiot. But eventually, I lost sight of him. Past midnight, Penny let me off since the bar had started to clear out. I grabbed my things and, not seeing Jake or the rest of the Daggers, assumed they’d left. The night was cool, and it looked like it might rain. Great—no jacket or umbrella.

“Hey, you,” Jake’s voice came from where he was leaning against his truck. I jumped, startled, and he chuckled softly.

“God, you scared me,” I said, relieved. “I thought you’d left.”

“I told you I’d wait,” he said, draping his jacket over my shoulders. It smelled like his cologne. “Need a ride?”

“Are you my knight in shining armor?” I teased, looping my arm through his.

“Your carriage awaits, my princess,” he said with an exaggerated bow, opening the door for me—just in time, as the rain started to drizzle.

By the time we reached my house, it was pouring. I was definitely going to get soaked just stepping out of the truck.

“Thanks for the ride, Lieutenant,” I said, leaning in to kiss his cheek as I opened the door.

“Wait!” he said, quickly getting out and running around to my side.

“You’re going to get wet!” I laughed as he grabbed his jacket and held it over us. He took my hand, and we walked to the door, getting drenched anyway.

I slipped on a puddle near the steps, but Jake’s arm shot out, catching me around the waist. We both laughed, soaked to the bone. His hands stayed on my waist, and I wrapped mine around his neck. His eyes locked on mine, and then they dropped to my lips.

“Still want that goodnight kiss?” I asked, biting my lip.

“Hell, yeah,” he breathed.

Without hesitation, I pulled him down to me. His lips were soft, tasting faintly of beer, and fit perfectly against mine. One of his hands moved from my waist to cradle my neck, deepening the kiss.

We pulled apart for air, but he dove back in, kissing me more passionately this time. God, I really liked this man.

“Goodnight, Lieutenant,” came a voice from behind us. My dad stood in the doorway, arms crossed.

“Goodnight, sir,” Jake said quickly, stepping back and grabbing his jacket to drape it over me again.

“Hi, Dad. We were just…” I stammered, feeling like a teenager caught sneaking in.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t see anything, but we’re having a serious conversation tomorrow, Seresin,” my dad said before going back inside.

“Should I be worried?” Jake asked nervously.

“Don’t worry. I’ll handle it,” I said, smiling like a fool.

I pulled him down for another kiss, his hands gently resting on my hips.

“Goodnight, handsome.”

“Sleep well, beautiful.”

He gave me a quick peck before heading back to his truck. I stayed at the door until he drove off, leaning against it with a ridiculous smile on my face.

“He’d better treat you right, kid,” my dad called from the kitchen.

“Here we go…” I sighed. I knew I was in for a lecture, but Jake—handsome, charming Hangman—was definitely worth it.

[wheels-of-despair]

Tangled Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie gets a comb stuck in his hair. Evil Woman untangles it, and a little bit of his tragic backstory comes out with it. Contains: A minor tantrum, a sad Eddie, a little hair lore, and our boy being loved and taken care of. Words: 1.2k Note: This takes place during their first winter together.

"FUCK!"

A loud clatter follows the yell from behind the closed bathroom door, making you jump from your position on the Munson's couch.

You're sitting there in borrowed sweats, watching a Mork & Mindy rerun while you wait for Eddie. You'd spent most of the day playing in the snow with the neighborhood kids, and had both required about a gallon of hot chocolate and a warm shower to recover. The girls had won the final snowball fight, which meant you earned the first shower. (He probably would've let you go first even the boys had won, but you're counting it as a victory shower anyway.)

When you don't hear anything else, you rise and slowly approach the bathroom door. Silence. You knock lightly. "Eddie? You okay?"

The door slowly creaks open, revealing a pair of worn burgundy sweats, a faded Hellfire Club shirt, half of a black comb stuck in a tangle of matted hair, and the most pathetic puppy eyes you've ever seen.

"You okay?" you ask again.

"Comb got stuck," he says miserably.

"Want me to get it out?"

Eddie squirms, looking like he wants to wash himself down the drain. He turns toward the mirror and gives another feeble attempt at getting the comb out. You lean against the doorframe, waiting for him to ask for help, and your eyes drift to the bathtub. All of the bottles that usually sit on the ledge are scattered across the bottom of the tub. He must've thrown something and knocked them all down. Maybe you should take him bowling sometime.

Eddie sighs, releases the comb, and hangs his head in defeat. Looking at the floor, he turns to you and nods his head slowly.

"I promise I'll be gentle," you assure him, as quietly as you can. "C'mon." You tilt your head toward the living room and start walking, hoping he'll follow.

You slide the coffee table to the side, drop a pillow on the floor for him to sit on, and take your seat on the couch. You gesture for him to sit between your legs. He does, reluctantly. You want so badly to know what's actually wrong, you feel like you may burst… but you know better than to ask.

You reach for the comb embedded in his wet hair without a word, and he flinches. You rest your hands on your knees instead.

You play with his hair all the time. When you watch movies, his head often ends up on your lap, and your hands gravitate to it. He gets the cutest little smile on his face when you tuck his hair behind his ear. You know for a fact that rubbing light circles on That One Spot on his scalp will put him right to sleep. Why is this different?

"You okay?" you ask.

"Yeah."

"You know I'm gonna try my very best not to hurt you, right?"

"Yeah." His voice is hollow. Emotionless.

You carefully reach for the mass of tangles and the buried comb again. He tenses, but doesn't flinch. You begin working it out, piece by piece, taking your time and focusing all your energy on keeping it painless while the laugh track on TV keeps the room from falling into awkward silence.

When you finally get the comb out, you set it aside and reach for your own brush. Starting at the ends, you gently work out all the rest of Eddie's tangles. The whole process takes nearly an hour, and he doesn't move a muscle the whole time.

"Alright, you're done," you finally declare, setting your brush aside. He heaves a sigh of relief, and you lean down to kiss the top of his head.

He turns sideways and rests his chin on your knee. You cup the side of his face, rubbing your thumb across his flushed cheek, and he closes his eyes. Just when you think he's fallen asleep, he heaves another sigh and starts talking.

"My mom used to brush my hair when I was little. Her brush had those hard, scratchy bristles that felt like wire." He swallows, but still doesn't open his eyes. "My hair wasn't this long, but I used to play outside all day. To get away from them, mostly. But when I came home at dark, she'd make me stand in front of her in the kitchen so she could brush it. She'd yank and pull at it and brush my neck and my ears and my forehead. I think it actually drew blood once or twice. If I moved or complained, she'd put me over her knee and use the other side."

You didn't realize your hand had stopped stroking his cheek until he stopped talking. You move it to his shoulder, still a little damp from his hair, and give him a light squeeze.

"One day, after she died, I went in the bathroom with scissors I stole from school and cut it all off. Well, I tried. They were dull and kid-sized. Dad laughed at me when he saw it. Made me go to school like that. The nurse finally took pity on me and evened it out after a few days."

He crawls onto the couch and lays his head on your lap, facing the TV. Normally in this position, your hands would be in his hair immediately, but today… you hesitate. Although he can't see you do it, he must sense it. He puts his hand on your knee, palm up. You take it, and place your other hand on his arm in a gesture you hope is comforting.

"When I came to live with Wayne, he'd give us both a buzz cut on the first of every month. The noise from the clippers scared the shit out of me at first, but after watching him do his own a few times, I finally let him do mine. I didn't start growing it out again 'til the summer I graduated from middle school. That's when I decided nobody was gonna fuck with it. And nobody was gonna fuck with me."

He lets go of your hand and flips onto his back, staring up at you.

"Kay, that's the whole traumatic hair story you didn't ask for."

You smile and reach for his hand again.

"It doesn't bother you when I play with it?"

"Not gonna lie… scared the hell out of me the first time," he chuckles. "Usually, when a girl goes for the hair, it's to pull it or stick something in it. One time, a girl dragged me across the playground with it. But you? Just started twirling it and playing with it and putting me to sleep. Didn't ever want you to stop. Couldn't fucking believe it."

You feel your heart warm at his confession, and finally let your hand return to that beautiful head of hair. Your fingers lightly work at his scalp, and he smiles sleepily up at you.

"You know I'd never hurt you, right?" You know he knows, but you need him to hear it. "Unless it's like… in a kinky way that you specifically request."

"I'll keep that in mind," he smirks.

[filmabyy]

«Heart On The Window» Cho Hyun-ju x Male!Reader Part 2?

Cho Hyun-ju x Male reader!

Summary: Y/N has always had a crush on her neighbor across the street, Hyun-ju. He has never had the courage to speak a word to her. Until one day they meet again in the most unexpected place.

*Warnings: mentions blood, insults, blows, self-disdain, etc.*

«English is not my first language and I'm sorry if I get some words wrong» 😔🤍

Y/n was at home when she suddenly heard a loud knock on the door.

Curious, him went to open it and found herself face to face with three burly, intimidating-looking men.

Before he could react, they entered her house with large steps and one of them grabbed her arm tightly.

"Hey!" he said surprised and didn't know what was happening at that moment.Only that he received a strong blow to the stomach and fell to the ground hard.

The men came even closer to him and began to intimidate him with harsh words."Where is that bastard Kim? He must pay that rat's debt..."

The one who seemed to be the leader of the group came even closer and kicked the side of his face.

And at that moment Y/N felt her face burn with pain.

Y/N let out a moan of pain and business. "N-no..I don't know where he is. He left here a long time ago, I don't know where he is.."

Exclaimed in pain as he tried to compose himself.

The men sneered as they watched him.

"Oh well, but if he's not there someone else will have to foot the bill for him, right guys?." The eldest said with a smirk and the other men laughed with him as they nodded.

Y/N looked at them scared.

"I don't have money to pay that debt..."

He confessed scared but was interrupted by another blow that this time was towards his stomach. He let out a loud moan of pain, while he felt his body burning.

Y/n felt something hot and liquid dripping down her body at that moment.

Him coughed as she spat out some of that famous crimson liquid and tried to get up but received a kick and fell back to the ground.

The leader of the group crouched down in front of him and grabbed by the hair tightly.

"Listen to me carefully...if you don't pay in the agreed time you will suffer severe consequences."

Then, one of his companions kicked him again in the stomach, making him gasp in pain.

The leader let go and stepped back, giving a menacing look. "We don't have time for your excuses..."

Him pointed towards the door.

"You have two months, or we will come for you again, and believe me..."

He looked at the other men and looked cruel.

"Next time, I won't be so nice boy, okay?" The other men laughed cruelly.

The men walked away a few steps, taking a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lighting one."So... understood?" He asked with an air of superiority.

The smoke from the cigarette rose through the air, impregnating the smell of tobacco in the room. He took a card from his jacket to throw it on the floor.

"When you have my money, call this number, so I'll come for it."

The older man determined and gave him one last look.

"And don't even think about escaping like your bastard father did. I'm going to find you if you escape." he exclaimed seriously and pointed at Y/N.

The leader took a long drag on his cigarette and remained silent for a few seconds, his eyes fixed on Y/n.

Then he turned around and headed towards the door with firm steps.

Before leaving, the leader turned his head back and spoke sharply, "Remember the deadline. Don't fail us."

The other men's followed him, slamming the door shut, leaving Y/n on the floor, in pain and trying to recover from the brutal beating he had received.

The silence and the smell of tobacco still filled the room uncomfortably, as he tried to come to terms with what had just happened.

He lay on the ground, the pain still present in his body, his mind filled with questions and worries about how him would face the future.

How was he going to get the money to pay off the debt in such a short time? And what would happen if he couldn't get the money together?.

Stood up and dragged himself into the bathroom. I turned on the faucet, let the water run and he began to wash himself, complaining about the pain in his face, then he raised his head and looked at himself in the mirror looking miserable.

As the cold water ran down his face, Y/n felt overwhelmed by the situation him was in.

The marks on her skin were beginning to take shape and the pain was still present. The reflection in the mirror showed a battered and troubled person...

He stayed silent for a few minutes, trying to recover for the moment and finished cleaning his face. Until the sound of a light knock on his door interrupted his thoughts.

Without further ado, he tried to clean himself as quickly as he could and gathered strength in his body to stay standing.

As he walked towards the door, he stopped for a second, whether it was those men again or someone new who because of his father, would have to pay yet another debt.

Thousands and thousands of thoughts came to his head at that moment.

Him stood still for a few seconds, trying to compose herself and recover from the emotional impact. The sound of the knocks rang out again, making Y/n's heart beat faster.

Y/N reached his trembling hand towards the doorknob and opened the door. His eyes widened in surprise at who it was.

"Hyun-ju?..." He said in a sigh the name of the woman was in love with.

Hyun-ju stood in the doorway, facing Y/n. His eyes widened as he saw the state she was in. His gaze filled with concern and surprise ran over her face, observing the marks of the beating that were still present.

"Y/n, my go... What happened to you?.." She asked tenderly, his voice full of concern.

She noticed the bumps and how his face reflected the pain he was feeling. Her took a step inside the apartment with the intention of approaching him.

"Hyun-ju..." He exclaimed and wanted to cover his face to prevent her from seeing him in that state.

Y/N felt embarrassed that she saw him like that, after all this time trying to get his attention and seeing him in this state made him feel bad.

"Let me see, let me see you." She said in a soft, concerned tone.

She took a few steps closer to him, not taking her eyes off his wounds. She wanted to try to understand how he ended up like this, but she also wanted to check that he was okay.

The concern reflected in her eyes was unmistakable as she tried to get closer to check him out.

When he felt Hyun-ju's hands on his face, he couldn't help but feel the softness of her skin. He felt like he was in a dream and didn't want to wake up.

Maybe the beating made him faint and he was having this nice dream.

But he held back and snapped out of his trance.

"This? It's nothing, I just fell while I was working." Y/N quickly apologized.

She knew it was a silly excuse but couldn't think of anything else to say. Hyun-ju faked a giggle but her body hurt but if she was in front of Hyun-ju, the pain didn't matter.

"We have to clean this up or it's going to get infected" she exclaimed worriedly. Without stopping to check on me, she pulled Y/N's hand to enter her apartment.

"Where's the first aid kit?."

"Hey Hyun-ju, I'm fine, you don't have to..." wanted to tell him.

"No, you have to, these bumps don't seem like a big deal at first but if you don't treat them well they get worse."

Hyun-ju cut her words off and Y/N fell silent.

"I have it in my bathroom, I'll go get it " he said but she refused and offered to go get it.

Y/N accepted and then Hyun-ju came back with a small box of first aid supplies. She forced him to sit down and began to treat his wounds carefully.

Y/N couldn't help but look at her, every action and how her hands moved carefully cleaning every wound. Just feeling her close to him and admiring her beautiful face was a great gift for he.

“You’re doing great. I appreciate it, Hyun-ju…” Y/N thanked him with a sweet smile.

Hyun-ju, hearing that, looked at him and couldn’t help but smile the same way. Y/N’s smile was contagious.

“You’re welcome, Y/N. As neighbors we help each other, right?” She repeated Y/N’s phrase with amusement. Him couldn’t help but let out a small giggle as he nodded.

“You’re right.”

The two stayed in a comfortable silence as Hyun-ju finished healing the wounds and Y/N looked at her again.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?." He asked out of nowhere.

Him didn't know how or where that courage had come from but he said it, at least it was a start to getting to know the beautiful Cho Hyun-ju.

Who had captivated his attention that day he moved into the building.

Hyun-ju stopped paying attention to the wounds just as Y/n asked that question, her gaze fixed on him. A small blush covered her cheeks at that unexpected invitation.

Her heart was beating strongly in her chest at the moment he asked her the question, a small feeling of nerves forming in her stomach as she listened to him.

She hesitated for a moment.

Stay for dinner? Was it just kindness or something more? She stayed silent for a few seconds, her gaze full of questions but finally she answered:

"I would love to." She said with a soft shyness as her eyes flashed, smiling slightly and lowering her gaze.

Hearing that, Y/N couldn't help but smile big and internally began to celebrate that she had accepted.

"Great, would you like to eat something specific? I don't mean to brag, but I'm a good cook." He joked and the shyness was fading away at that moment.

Hyun-ju laughed softly at his joke and felt a little more comfortable at that moment.

The tension seemed to dissipate with every word and gesture.

His eyes sparkled as he joked around with a proud smile. “I guess I’ll have to try it out to see if you’re as good as you say you are.”

She said with a playful tone, a slight mischief in his gaze as he responded with a smile. Hyun-ju was really intrigued to see how he would cook.

“Oh, believe me, you’ll love it,” he replied kindly as he laughed and couldn’t help but admire Hyun-ju.

His eyes sparkled brightly when he saw her again.

The tension in the air completely dissipated, replaced by a clear connection between them as they chatted and joked.

Hyun-ju's gaze remained fixed on Y/n, unable to help but admire her presence and gestures.

The moment was comfortable and the atmosphere felt electric, but the excitement of the encounter gave them an addictive feeling.

Hyun-ju couldn't help but look at Y/N and know that he was a good man. Although his insecurities were in his head.

She tried to ignore it. Because seeing Y/N treat her so gently made his heart skip. It felt unreal to see someone treat her the way Y/N did from the first moment, accepting her for who she really was.

Little by little he was getting into her skin without realizing it...

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Y/N opened her eyes in surprise when she saw someone familiar in that place.

She couldn't believe it.

“Hyun-ju?...” he said her name.She looked at him the same way.

They both couldn't believe they were in the same place.

“Y/N… what are you doing here?”.

She exclaimed worried and surprised to find him there.

They were going to have a long conversation.

[witchygagirlwrites]

Hank's Girl

Hank Voight x Reader

Blame @desimarie12 👀 and the 2 energy drinks i've had

You and Hank go to the police gala and run into your ex

Um steamy?!?! Companion piece to Really

Moving in with Hank was a big step. You hadn’t originally wanted to take it, not because you didn’t love him. You loved that man more than was reasonable but that was the house he bought with Camille, the one he raised Justin and finished raising Erin in. You felt like you were intruding on something deep but he was right in the fact that you were paying for rent and all utilities for a place you barely stayed at anymore.

It took you weeks to unpack and even longer to feel comfortable enough to say “Home” instead of “Hank’s” the most hilarious thing was the fact that considering you were friends with members of his unit that meant they now saw the inside of his home, something some of them hadn’t never really had happened. 

Tonight was the police gala. Of course the unit was expected to be in attendance. They all had the options to bring dates. Hailey was going with Jay, Kim with Adam and Kevin was going out with a nurse from med Alicia Jones. All the unit had the benefit of wearing their dress uniforms. You on the other hand ended up having to wrangle Alicia to go shopping with you to find a dress that looked presentable enough to be on a sergeant’s arm.

Hank was down in the kitchen waiting on you but you couldn’t get the damn zipper. “Ugh!” you hollered and heard his laughter drifting up the stairs “Sweetheart?” you grabbed your shoes and hoisted the hem of the dress in your hand to walk downstairs “I can’t get the zipper up any further”

You walked over to where he was sitting in a chair at the table and turned to sit in his lap. He chuckled, hands slipping up your hips before you felt the zipper easily tug up into place. “There ya go princess” you went to stand up and felt his hand slide across your ass so you looked over your shoulder at him and he smirked slightly. You shook your head and slipped your heels on then plunked the first one up onto his chest “Since you’re enjoying dressing me so much” 

He gave you a look that said to enjoy this while it lasted before tying your heel up your ankle then pressing a kiss to the top of your foot. He nodded towards the other foot “Let’s get that one down so we can get going”

You felt Hank’s hand on your lower back as you walked into the gala. Numerous cops filled the area along with their dates. You could’ve cared less about any of them,you were looking for your unit. You spotted Kevin first and tapped Hank’s side “I see the kids baby” he shook his head with a laugh like he did any time you referred to his unit as the kids considering you were in their age range.

He used his hand to guide you through the crowd, his gravel filled voice only having to let out an “Excuse me” once for people to get the point and move the hell out of the way.

When you finally got across to the rest of the unit you smiled when you saw them “My god you all look so good in your dress uniforms!” you complemented, looking them over then smiled at Alicia “And that dress looks gorgeous on you” 

They all thanked you in turn and Adam hugged you with one arm, whispering in your ear “It’s still weird at times seeing him smile” you slapped his chest playfully “Oh hush Ruzek” Kim shook her head as everyone started their own conversations amongst the group. You enjoyed any time you got to spend with them all, even at this stuffy of an event.

You were standing at the bar with Hailey and Kim. Kevin and Alicia had already called it a night but Hank had to stay longer so they were toughing it out with you. “It’s amazing seeing the change in him since he’s been with you” Hailey laughed and you felt a grin slip onto your face “I honestly never would’ve thought Hank Voight would be such a good man”

You heard someone scoff behind you and turned to see Detective Daniel Moore, a man you’d gone on maybe two dates with. “What was that?” Kim asked and he shrugged “Nothing, just bullshit hearing the three of you riding Voight’s dick so hard” 

“What the fuck is your problem?” you asked and he smirked at you “At least with these two it’s not literal but damn you’ve fallen far” “You son of a..” you were interrupted by Jay’s voice “Hey, what’s going on over here?” 

“Ask Detective Moore” Hailey bit out and you stared him down, seeing if he’d be so brash in front of Jay. “Was saying it’s a shame three perfectly capable women having to ride someone’s coattails or well in Y/N’s case dick like Voights”

Adam appeared over your shoulder “The fuck did you say?” about the time you spotted Hank step up behind Daniel “I think you need to reconsider how you speak to my girlfriend and my detectives, considering I’d hold their records to yours any day” Hank lowered his voice before adding “and from what I’ve heard you didn’t have much dick to ride anyways boy”

Adam clamped a hand over his mouth but Jay straight up laughed as Daniel turned red and muttered something unintelligible before skittering away. Hank’s eyes were solely on you as he told everyone “Head home. We’re done here tonight” you heard a goodnight from everyone but you were here in place from the look in his eyes. Oh he was pissed by what Daniel had said, a lot more than he was showing.

You walked in the door in front of Hank and could damn near feel the anger rolling off of him. “Let’s go to bed” you offered and he shook his head “I’m gonna stay up a little while. You can head up” 

You shook your head and headed up to the room to change. You wanted out of the dress anyways. You got to the room before you remembered you couldn’t unzip the damn dress. “Hank!”

You walked back down the stairs and he was standing at the bottom of them “What baby?” you turned around “The zipper” he chuckled and you felt his hands on your back before the zipper gave way. Instead of heading up you let the dress fall down your body and pool around your feet on the bottom step. “That’s better” 

He let his eyes trail across your body, taking in the black lace set you’d been wearing under your dress before he nodded up “Head up to bed. I’ll be up in a little while” “Make me” you replied with a grin but saw his eyes darken and knew you’d found a new button to push “What was that?”

You took a step closer, kicking the dress out of the way and letting your clothed breast brush against the material of his dress uniform “I said if you want me to head up to bed then make me”  he shook his head, one hand coming out to wrap loosely around your throat “You already knew I was pissed baby. You’re really gonna be a brat?” you grinned at him and he shook his head “Of fucking course, you love this shit”

He turned you around on the stairs and slapped your ass hard enough a whimper escaped your lips “Get your ass up in that bed. I’m right behind you” you felt his hands on your hips, pulling you back against him and you could feel how hard he was through his dress pants and bit your lip as you rubbed your ass back against him, earning yourself another swat “Go”

______________

You felt his hands on your body the moment you crossed into the bedroom. One hand teased low, almost where you wanted it before slipping away “Since you want to be a brat help me get out of this damn thing”

You turned to face him and started to work on the buttons, your hands shaking slightly and he chuckled when he noticed “What’s wrong baby?” you swallowed hard and continued until you could push the shirt off of him. You started to run your hands over his chest but he shook his head “Didn’t say you could touch me yet”

Your mouth fell open in shock and he winked at you “I’ll take care of you, don’t you worry” you let your tongue flick out to wet your bottom lip before your hands went to the zipper of his pants “Promise?” he grabbed the back of your head to pull you into a rough kiss “Don’t I always?”

You smiled into the kiss before you let your fingers work his zipper down, one hand slipping under his waistband to wrap around his hardened cock and he groaned lightly as he let one hand slip down to push your panties to the side, two thick fingers sinking into you “Hearing that asshole talk about you?” he curled his fingers and your hand stopped moving, going to his hip to hold yourself up “Like he could ever make you feel as good as I do?” he hit that spot inside of you and kept working at it until your legs started to shake and the only thing keeping you upright was his other arm around your waist “Go ahead baby” he whispered and you felt your orgasm hit you, your thighs clenching around his wrist as you sagged against his chest. “I’m gonna make sure by the end of the night that you won’t even recognize him if you see him again” he promised,pushing you back onto the bed “You want me to do that pretty girl?”

You nodded “Please?” he smiled “I love you beautiful” “I love you too Hank” you whispered as he shook his head “My damn little brat” before shoving his pants off his hips. You laid back on the bed and let your legs fall open further and he groaned “Gonna be the fucking death of me yet”

[vanfleeter]

Old Flame

Summary: After a failed marriage comes to its end, Jake finds himself on the doorstep of an old flame. One he learns he never should have let go out. Characters: Jake Kiszka x Anna Word Count: 8.1k Warnings: 18+ || Language. Adult Themes. Adult Sexual Themes. Angst. Divorce. Affair. Yelling. Arguing. Throwing things. Tears. Self doubt. Ultimatums. Toxicity. Broken and strained relationships. Smut. Sex. Penetrative sex. Fluff. Soft Jake. (as always let me know what I missed so I can add it to the list)

Jake swiped his pen over the documents, signing each one with a ballpoint pen. He scoffed to himself as he dropped the pen to the granite countertop and slid the papers across the smooth service away from him. They had only been married for a year before she made the first move towards a divorce. Why? She just didn't want to be tied down. Whatever the fuck that meant. Due to their prior agreements, she got half off his money in the end.

Sliding off the barstool, he walks over to the drink cart in the living room and pours himself a drink.

“Just because this happened, doesn't mean we can’t be–” She tried to speak before he cut her off.

“We can’t be anything.” He says, lifting the glass to his lips to take a drink.

“I still love you..”

Jake rolls his eyes and lowers the glass, staring at it as he runs his index ring over the top of it. “I’m starting to think you don’t know what love is.” He says, trying to remain calm, but the anger courses through his body and suddenly he’s throwing the glass in her direction. Much to his surprise, she dodges it and the glass collides with the wall, breaking into many small pieces. “I gave you everything!” He shouts. “Not once have you ever given me anything in return!”

“I agreed to marry you!”

“Oh fuck off!” He spats. “You make it sound as if I had forced your hand. You had a choice, May! You could have said no and we wouldn't be here.”

“But I loved you when I said yes, I thought I saw a future with you.”

Jake scoffs once more, rolling his eyes again. “What changed then? Did I not pleasure you well enough?”

“That is not the reason.”

“No?” He nods his head in a sarcastic manner. “So then tell me who that man was you would sneak in here while I was away..” May’s face drains of color and he dryly laughs. “You thought I wouldn't know you had been having an affair? The reason you didn't want to be “tied down”? You love me… Ha!” He shakes his head and starts to walk in her direction. He stops just a few inches from her and leans down to speak in her ear. “I hope he’s worth it because as soon I walk out that door, you get nothing more from me. No more of my money and certainly no more of my body. Do not come crawling back to me when his dick doesn't satisfy you anymore.”

Walking away from her, he grabs his belongings he packed up prior to the signing and leaves the house without one single look back. Though he hid his true feelings behind a wall of crood words and hatred, his heart was breaking from within. The woman he had loved for several years–the one he proclaimed his love for in front of a church full of their cherished loved ones–had the guts to stab him in the back by betraying the vows they had promised one another. Sleeping with another man and she was the shocked one? She should have known that he would have found out sooner or later.

He was grateful for the divorce in a way. He no longer had to hide in the shadows, watching as this man fucked his wife in their bed, a bed they had made love to each other for years. A bed that was stained with their love–or whatever they had then. Now it didn't feel as if it were love. Now it just felt as if he was used. His money, his body. He gave her everything and yet she betrayed him and gave her body to someone else.

For weeks all he could hear in his head were her moans penetrating the walls that first night he caught them together. They must not have heard him arrive back home because he could hear them from the front door. He had to fight back the urge to storm into that bedroom and fight the man who had the nerve to sleep with a married woman–his wife. But then the puzzle pieces fell into place–one by one–as he pieced together the truth. A truth she had been hiding from him. The decency she thought she had to lie to his face, claiming to have missed him while he was away.

He thought it would end if he could prove to her that he was the better man–her husband. So every night since he came home from a six month long tour, he would fuck her however she wanted him to and wherever. Anything to prove that he was still worthy of her and to prove that she didn't need to find pleasure from someone else’s body.

Until he came to the realization that no matter how often he fucked her or how he did it, he would never replace the man that she really desired. The diamond ring on her finger didn't stop her from tainting their marriage.

Instead of the love he had once felt for her is now the hatred that had been burning in the pit of his stomach for months.

As he drove, his mind wandered to someone else. Someone that he hasn't seen in years since she went away for a job opportunity in Seattle. Though she was back in Nashville, he still hadn't seen her, having been so focused on the band and trying to save his marriage. But he still remembered the way to her home, the same home she kept even after she moved, knowing she would one day come back.

If he were to show up to her house, would she want to see him? Would she let him in? The way things ended between them wasn't as drastic as his failed marriage has ended now, but they also didn't end on good terms either.

The one fight.

Words spewed at each other that neither of them meant but still cut them both so deeply.

He had begged her to stay, that he could provide for both of them and she wouldn't have to worry about anything anymore. But it wasn't worry that she felt. It was desire. She craved freedom in the moment, not wanting to be tied down just yet.

Sensing a theme yet?

Of course she loved him, she had never loved someone quite like she loved Jake. She had dreams and plans of marrying him someday but it just wasn't the right time. Though she had dreams of marrying him, she also had dreams of building this career for herself and having something that was hers. At the time, he didn't quite understand that. He didn't understand that she was an independent woman, not wanting to rely on someone else to take care of her.

They broke up the night before she was to leave for Seattle and they hadn't spoken since. He didn't see her off at the airport, he never called or sent texts, nor did she either. They both aimed to forget about each other, thinking it would numb the pain. In time it did, he fell in love with someone new and so did she–for a little while. It didn't last because she knew her heart still belonged to Jake.

Pressing his finger into the doorbell, the sound of it echoes inside and he takes a step back. He left his things in his car, unsure of how this might play out for him. A few minutes ticked by and he was going to reach for the doorbell again when the door opened. In front of him and still looking as beautiful as he last saw her, stood his first ever true love. Though they were mid-thirties, not quite at the stage where they should be growing gray hair, he could see a few strands lining her forehead. Her eyes still held the same sparkle he used to see before, only now they were shielded by a thin pane of glass.

Anna.

“Jake?” Her voice shakes slightly as she stares at him in surprise. Her face had slowly grown pale as if she had seen a ghost.

He nods his head, unable to form words to speak. Seeing her after all the years, his breath was somehow still taken from his body. He felt the urge to pull her into his arms, to hold her once more, but he fought against it, knowing it wouldn't be wise to do such a thing.

“What are you doing here?” She asks.

“I got divorced..” He finally manages to say.

Instantly, she’s pulling him inside the house and shutting the door. Lifting her glasses, she rests them on the top of her head. “Divorce? Has it even been that long?”

He shakes his head. “I saw it coming, despite how hard I tried to keep it at bay.”

She leads him further into the home and into the kitchen. Passing through the hall, he notices the pictures on the walls have remained the same. He stopped walking when he saw a framed photo of the two of them. He remembers exactly where they were when that photo was captured.

“Jake, I don’t know about this..” She says as he helps her up to the top of the tower. “You know I don’t do well with heights.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” Jake says as he slowly walks her over to the ledge. “Just don’t look down.”

“Gee, why didn’t I think of that?”

“Look at the view,” He says. “Imagine living in a castle as grand as this used to be with this perfect view of the ocean.”

“I think I’d rather stay closer to the ground.”

Jake chuckles, wrapping his arms around her from behind and kissing her cheek. “Let’s stay just like this forever..”

“Want anything to drink?” Looking away from the picture, he turns towards the kitchen. She’s standing by the fridge, holding the door open. “I have milk, orange juice, and tequila in the freezer.”

“I probably shouldn't drink..” He says as he walks into the kitchen.

“What did you do?” She asks, already knowing something had occurred before he left his house.

“I may have thrown a glass…at May..” He mumbles as he slides onto a bar stool, keeping his eyes anywhere but hers.

“Jacob…” She sighs.

“I know, I know.. I let my anger get out of control..” He says, before burying his head in his hands. “How did my life get so bad? I thought we were happy.. I gave her everything I had… She took most of my money too in the agreement…”

“Do you need help?” She asks.

Jake nods his head. “No… I still have plenty.. The bands are still making money plus all of the side projects I have going on. I’m steady for now and I’ll be getting more once the house sells.”

“You’re selling the house?”

Jake nods his head and takes the glass of water that she slid across the countertop to him. “Also a part of the agreement.”

“Oh…”

“I don’t want to sell it, but I have no choice..” He says. “That place holds a lot of memories..” He glances up at her and she looks away. “But that’s all it is.. A house full of memories.. There’s nothing for me to hold onto anymore.”

“I always wondered what you did with it when I left..” She says. “Is that hole still in the wall in your office where your guitar fell?”

Jake scoffs, nodding his head. “I still haven't gotten it fixed.”

“The wall or the guitar?”

“The wall..of course,” He smiles. “Probably should get it fixed before the house goes on the market.”

“Isn’t she still going to be there?”

“I hear the tone of disdain,” Jake smirks. “And you don't even know why we’re divorcing.”

“Judging by the state you’re in, she’s the reason for it.” Anna says as she leans against the countertop. “What’d she do? Spill the tea.”

Jake chuckles and takes a drink of water. “May was having an affair.. Was going on for months while I was away. Caught them when I came home. I didn’t know what to do so I left.”

“But you really wanted to do something else, didn’t you?”

Jake nods his head. He takes another drink before continuing. “I wanted to storm up there and beat the shit out of him. She was married–she was my wife. He had to have known all of that. The pictures on the walls and our dresser should have been a clear indication but I just knew he ignored it all.”

“But instead you left..”

“Yeah.. Ended up crashing on Danny’s couch until I was sure they weren’t fucking anymore..”

“Did Danny ever question you?”

Jake shakes his head, folding his hands together in front of him. “I know he had his suspicions but he never pushed to ask me about it.”

“Then what happened?”

“I went home the next morning–pretended that my flight had been delayed and my phone was dead so I couldn't call to let her know.. She lied so well, I truly think she started to believe herself–but I knew the truth, I knew everything.”

“And Josh doesn't know about this?”

“No… I haven't said a thing about this to him. I kept pretending to everyone that our marriage was good–that we were good. I didn’t want to be a disappointment to the family..”

“You’re not a disappointment,” Anna says, shaking her head. “You tried to make your marriage work, but there's only so much you could do.”

“He’ll only say ‘I told you so’.. He never liked May from the start and he made damn sure that I knew that. He didn't even come to the wedding.” He could see Anna’s jaw drop ever so slightly, shocked that Josh would pull something like that. “Yeah… He was supposed to be my best man but never showed up so Sam stepped in at the last minute. We haven't spoken since…”

“Wait..” Anna says, waving her hands in the air in front of her. “You haven't spoken since the wedding? That was what…”

“Over a year ago..” Jake mutters.

“Wow.. I’ve never known you two to go more than maybe a week without talking to each other and that’s even when you’re just busy..”

Jake shrugs his shoulders and takes another drink of his water. “The band’s on a hiatus to give everyone a break for a little while.. Haven't really had the need to talk to each other..”

“Jake, I’m sorry…”

“I’m not..” He grumbles. “He made his choice.. I’m over it.”

“You don't seem like it,” Anna said as she walked around the island and sat on a stool beside him. “Is that why you came here–because you can’t go to him?”

“I wouldn't have gone to him regardless..” Jake says. “I came here because…” His voice trails off. He honestly didn't know why he came here. She just came to his mind. “I don't know..” He looked at her and for once he felt comfortable with himself. He didn't feel any judgment from her or even pity. He was on neutral ground, no one to scold him, no one telling him ‘I told you so’, and definitely no one making him feel like he isn’t good enough to their husband.

“Well I’m glad you did,” She says with a beaming smile. “I’ve been wondering how you’ve been–though now I guess I do now,” She laughs. “Sorry.. I’m not laughing at you..”

A smile twitches at the corners of Jake’s mouth. “I’ve been wondering about you too,” He says. “We haven't seen or spoken to each other since…”

“We broke up.” She finishes for him.

“Yeah..” He says, looking back at the glass of water sitting in his hand. “Anna, I’m sorry..” He starts. “We ended on not-so-good terms and I apologize.. I know I said some hurtful things–things I didn’t even mean and–”

“Jake, there’s no need to apologize,” Anna says, resting her hand on his shoulder. This wasn't the same feeling as when she pulled him inside the house, but this time he felt her.

“We both said things neither of us meant,” She continued. “Can I be honest?” Jake turns his head back to look at her. “I wish we didn't end at all..”

“What?”

“I should have fought harder but I knew you weren't going to budge.”

“Why didn't you ever call?”

“Because I was too stubborn.. I wanted to prove to you that I could survive without you.”

Jake sighs, allowing his head to drop. “I shouldn't have said that to you. I knew you would, I guess I just wanted you to feel like you couldn't because I was too stubborn myself to let you walk away so easily. I thought if I could manipulate you into believing you couldn't, then you’d stay. I guess now that’s my problem.. I tried to do the same with May.. I tried to make her believe that I was better than the man she was sleeping with..”

“I don't think that would be manipulation on her, Jake.. I think it was more of you trying to believe that you could be better. If you just did all the same things he did, maybe then she’d stay.”

“I could never be like him.. I don't even know why I tried..”

“Because you loved her..”

“Love shouldn't be used as manipulation.”

“No, you’re right.” Anna says, nodding her head. “We do things we shouldn't do because not only can love be a good thing, but it also can be used as a weapon.. And if we misuse it, we end up changing what it’s really meant to be.”

“I’m sorry..” He says. “I abused it and I abused you.”

Anna shakes her head. “None of that.. I’ve moved past it.” She then slides off the stool and places her hands on her hips. “Since you’re here, think you can help me with something?”

Jake furrows his eyebrows but follows her anyways to the second floor. She stops in front of a door and turns around to face him. “I haven't touched this room since we broke up and I left for Seattle.”

“Okay?”

Anna twists the knob and pushes the door open. His eyebrows perk up when he sees most of his things still in the same places they had been before. One of his guitars was lying on the couch, old song sheets he had been filling up were still sprawled out on the coffee table. Though the candles were long since burnt out, they still sat in the same spots around the room. This room has remained the same for the last several years and though they never lived together, he spent a lot of time here with her, especially in this room.

“You haven't touched any of this?” He asks as he steps into the room.

Anna shakes her head. “No.. Could never bring myself to.” She says. “It held a lot of good memories in here, I was too broken at the time to part with any of it.”

“I’m surprised you never gave me this back,” Jake says as he picks up the guitar from the couch. “Probably needs some tuning,” He says, sitting down on the couch and strumming chords. They sounded completely out of tune and he chuckled. “Definitely needs a tune up.”

Anna smiles and leans against the door. “Are any of those songs still good?” She asks, nodding her head towards the music sheets.

Jake leans over to the coffee table and picks up one of the sheets. “It’s possible,” He says. “I’m sure I could find a place for them.”

The doorbell rings and Jake lowers the paper. “Sorry,” Anna sheepishly grins. “I did order food before you showed up.”

“And I am intruding,” Jake says, standing up from the couch and setting the guitar down.

“No, no!” Anna says as they leave the room. “Definitely not intruding.” She goes to the door to get food, thanking the delivery person, and bringing it to the kitchen. “I may have ordered enough food for at least two people,” She giggles. “I’m starving. So please stay if you’re hungry.”

“I don’t think I-”

“I want you to,” Anna says. “Come on, eat some food and hang out. Get your mind off of things for a little while.”

“You actually want me to stay?”

Anna nods her head and begins to pull the food boxes out of the bags. “I’ve missed having you around.” Jake can’t fight the smile that forms on his face.

To him it felt like an hour had passed, but when he glances at the clock on the wall in the living room, he sees that it’s been at least four since he had come here. All of the talking while they ate just made it seem like it hadn’t been that long. “Have to head out?”

“I don’t know, should I?” He says, looking at her with a bit of a coy look in his eyes.

Anna smiles before pushing herself up off the floor. “Stay a little longer.” She says. “Like I said.. I’ve missed you.” She starts to pick up the empty food containers and puts them back into the paper bags.

The music playing through the speaker changes as Anna is leaving the living room. Jake sits up and listens to it as it plays the beginning notes. Without a single thought or the urge to resist, Jake springs off the floor and heads into the kitchen where he finds Anna tossing the trash into the can beside the island.

“Remember when we used to dance to this song?” He asks.

“Yeah.. I remember.” She says. “Except you’d be wearing a little less clothing.”

Jake chuckles, reaching his arms around her waist. “I’ll stop if you tell me to.” He says, pulling her closer. Her hands press against his chest, and he expects her to push him away but instead she slides her hands to his shoulders. “I didn’t know that I’d miss this, but I guess I do.”

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me that you and May never danced like this?”

Jake shakes his head. “Never.. Always said it was too mushy for her.”

“I’m convinced she isn’t real.”

“Oh she was plenty real,” Jake says. “Just not the romantic type, I guess. We only danced once and that was at the wedding.”

“I am shocked,” Anna giggles. “And you married her because..”

Jake chuckles and spins them both slowly. “I thought I loved her.. I thought she loved me too..”

Soon the song ends and moves on to a lighter, more upbeat song, but they still stand there looking at each other. Jake clears his throat and they both pull away. “Ahem.. Well, I should probably get going,” He says. “I took up enough of your day.”

“Just so you can go stay in a hotel room?” Anna says as she grabs his jacket.

“Anna, give me my jacket.” Anna shakes her head and backs away. “Anna, I’m being serious. Give me it.”

“You are not going anywhere.” She says as she keeps backing away.

“Are you going to hold me hostage?”

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

She got him there. It honestly wouldn't be bad to be held captive by his ex-girlfriend. Someone he truly did love–and still might. Anna winks and takes off running upstairs.

“Not the stairs..” He grumbles as he runs up them as well. Reaching the too of the stairs, he sees her standing outside of her bedroom and shaking his jacket lightly in the air. “Anna, come on. Please give me my jacket.” He says as he walks down the hallway.

“Promise you’ll stay?”

He sighs, stopping in front of her. “I really need to go. Anna, please?”

“Why are you in such a rush to get out of here?” She asks. “Has it really been that bad?”

“Anna..”

“Why’d you even come here then?”

“It’s not like that, I loved being here, but I just got divorced and I can’t just rebound so fast.”

“Rebound?”

Jake mentally smacked his forehead as he sighed. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I am not a rebound, Jake. I don’t want you to stay so I can sleep with you again. I wanted you to stay because it’s a lot better than staying in a crappy hotel. And besides, I’m not the rebound,” She says, crossing her arms over her chest. “She was..”

Jake’s lips twitch at the corners as he begins to smirk. “Were you jealous of her?”

“Pfft, jealous? Please. At least my body’s real.” Jake’s jaw fell slack in disbelief he ever heard her utter such words. He’s never heard her speak ill of anyone, she always kept it to herself. “What?” Anna shrugs her shoulders. “There were times that I wondered why you ever fell in love with her?”

“You thought about me?”

“Yeah.. But mostly about why you were so stupid to want to be with someone like her.”

“You’re sounding like Josh.”

“Yes well, at least I’m talking to you.”

Jake scoffs and leans against the wall. “I wasted all those years with her, when I could have just been fighting to get you back.” He says.

“So why didn’t you?”

“I figured you still hated me,” He says. “We were so mean to each other at the end, I just thought you wouldn't want to talk to me–or even see me.”

“Instead you got together with May.”

Jake nods his head. “At the time I thought I was doing the right thing–moving on. I saw you had, so why shouldn’t I? I kept telling myself that I was better off without you and I could prove that to you. At first it was just a means to rub it in your face, but then I actually started to fall for her. She was sweet then, so kind to everyone, even my family.”

“Except Josh..”

“Yeah, except him. He never came around if she was with me.. I didn't get why he was, but now I see it. It’s because of her we don’t speak anymore. I don’t think we ever will.”

“Did it end that badly between you two?”

“It was so stupid..”

Now they were seated on the floor in the hallway while the music still played downstairs, the sound slightly muffled through the floor. Anna still had his jacket, keeping it resting on her lap as he talked.

“Karma smacked me right in the face when he gave me an ultimatum.. It was either him–or her. Kind of how I gave you an ultimatum before we broke up.. Me or your career..”

Anna could still remember that day like it was yesterday. They were in his bedroom, screaming at each other, trying to get their own words to be heard over the other. It was a useless fight because they knew what would be happening in the end.

“Jake, I really want to do this. I want to have my own career, make more money so that we can live well.”

“We are living well! My band is making so much revenue and with these side projects and extra jobs I’ve been helping with, I’m making more than enough to take care of us both! I don’t get why you want to start a career!”

“Jake, I want to also be my own person! I’m tired of being only known as ‘Jake’s girlfriend’, I want my own identity back! And this is how I’m going to do it, with or without you!”

“Fine.. The choice is yours then.. It’s either me or your fucking career.”

“You’re making me choose?! I can’t have both?!”

“Me or your career..” He says before walking out of the bedroom.

“I realized it wasn’t fair of me to do that.”

“Ultimately we choose the thing that would ruin the best things in our lives,” Anna says. She shifts her body around so she can sit beside him against the wall. “I chose my career and we broke up. You chose May and now your relationship with Josh is severed… Is that why the band is on a hiatus?”

Jake nods his head. “Josh told our management that the band had “differences that needed to be worked out” so for the time being, the band is on a hiatus until Josh and I fix shit between us. Which is fine.. I have other things to work on..”

“But that band was your dream, Jake. Don’t just give it up because you and Josh are in a tiff.”

Jake shrugs his shoulders. “My dream already came true, Anna. Maybe it’s a sign to just move on. We’ve accomplished a lot already.”

“You never struck me as a quitter,” Anna says.

“People change..” He says as he starts to fidget with the button on his shirt. “I gave up on my marriage.. I gave up on you..”

“Your marriage was no fault of your own.”

“And you?” He inquires, turning his head to look at her.

“I gave up on you first,” She says, lowering her head so she’s looking down at her lap. “I made my choice.”

“All because I made you make one,” He says.

“It’s in the past,” She says. “I’m more mature now.”

“Oh are you?” He chuckles.

Anna nods her head, smiling, and looks back up at him. “I’ve learned that my own happiness comes first above everything else. I’ll fight for what I want and I won’t take no for an answer.”

“Is that why you made me chase you for my coat? You won’t let me leave?”

“You still have a choice, but I’d prefer if you stayed.”

“Why must I stay?”

“Like I said earlier.. I’ve missed you.” She says.

“I’m only going to a hotel. It’s not like I can't come back.”

He can come back. She knows he’ll come back, but she wants him to stay. Stay here with her. She lost him once already, she doesn't want to again. Since he showed up on her porch that afternoon, all she could think about was finally getting her second chance with him. She has to know if this is meant to be, if fate is trying to correct their mistakes, realign their paths.

“Just stay here. Besides, my bed is so much more comfortable.”

“I don’t know.. Hotel beds are pretty comfy.” Anna flings his jacket at him and he laughs. “Thanks for the offer,” He says. He stands to his feet and helps her up as well.

She takes him by surprise, flinging her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. She feels his arms wrap around her waist, hugging her back. “I have Egyptian cotton..” She whispers in his ear.

He chuckles, pulling away slightly so he can get a better look at her. “You just won't give up, will you?” Anna shakes her head and he sighs. “Fine.”

A storm raged outside, heavy winds and rain. The rain pounded on the windows as the wind whistled and blew. But what woke Anna from a deep sleep was the loud crack of thunder, loud enough to shake the whole damn house. She jolted awake, sitting upright with her hand coming to rest on her chest. As she takes in deep breaths to calm her body, she feels a hand slide over the top of her thigh and soon Jake is sitting up to her. The feeling of his hand on her leg sent goosebumps flaring on her body.

“Remember the angels bowling?”

“I’m not five,” Anna says as she lays back down in bed.

Jake follows and turns over to face her. Even in the dark he can still see how beautiful she is. Whenever the lightning flashes, though she cringes with every strike, it first lights up her eyes showing the immense beauty of them. Those radiant brown eyes that always seemed to bring him comfort whenever he looked into them. He never compared his exes to each other but he began to realize that he never felt the same way when looking into May’s eyes. Sure they were a beautiful shade of blue, but they only reminded him of the ocean, raging and chaotic. Though that was May’s nature.

With Anna, she was always calm, unless prompted otherwise. He always knew the moment her eyes grew a shade darker that she was not happy. He quickly learned her boundaries and knew what made her tick and what made her explode. He knew what annoyed her and what pissed her off. He knew her like the back of his hand.

“You’re staring at me..” She says, drawing him out of his head.

“Sorry..” He mutters, turning back over to lay on his back.

“Jake?”

“Hm?”

“Have you ever thought about what our lives would have been like if we didn't break up?”

“I think we would have been miserable,” He says. “If you had chosen me over your career, I think it would have been rough. You’d resent me and I wouldn't have blamed you.”

“Would you have still loved me?”

“I don't think I could ever stop,” He says. “I don't think I ever did.. Would you have still loved me?”

“No..”

“Oh..”

“Let me explain why,” She says. “It wouldn't have been the love that I felt for you romantically, I would have felt it like I do with any other person that I love. I would have resented you truthfully, I was beginning to feel that way when you made me choose between you and my career. I couldn't understand why it was “either or” instead of “both”. I hated you for making me choose because either choice I made, I would lose something that’s important to me. When I chose my career, I lost you.”

“I’m here now..”

“Jake..”

“Just hear me out..” He says. “And don’t deny that you thought the same thing.. I think this was meant to happen,” He turns back over to face her again and grabs hold of her hand. “We needed to grow apart in order to grow separately. Whatever fucking lesson the universe was trying to teach me, I think I learned it. Anna, I still love you and being with you today? I just felt like I was back where I belonged. I felt like I was home. Dancing with you in the kitchen, I missed that terribly. I missed being close to you and I missed touching you, loving you, making love to you. I wanted to kiss you so badly at that moment but I had a feeling it wasn't the right time. And I know you feel the same because I could see it when you look at me.”

“All you had to say was that you missed me too.” Anna says, turning her head to look at me. “I’ve been telling you that this whole time.”

Jake moves a little closer and turns her head, caressing her cheek in his palm. “Please don’t tell me to stop.”

Anna slightly shakes her head, “I wished you would have kissed me when we were dancing,” She says. “Just like we used to.”

When their lips touched, it felt as if they were brought back to the beginning. The initial sensation one feels for the first time when they know they’ve fallen in love.

Jake’s hand moves from her face and down to her hips, pulling her closer to his body as their kissing deepens and grows more heated. Even as their lungs burned and begged for air, they refused to pull apart. That is until Jake really couldn't breathe and reluctantly gave in. His chest heaved as his heart pounded beneath his ribcage. He hadn't realized her hand was on the side of his face until she rubbed her thumb over his cheek bone.

“You said you missed making love,” She says. “No one could ever love me like you did.”

“Are you asking or just talking?”

“I’m asking,” She says. “Please?”

“You know I would never deny you,” He says, slipping his hand beneath the fabric of her pajama pants, first squeezing her hand, making her giggle.

Jake wakes up to an empty bed beside him, the sun filtering in through the half open curtains. Downstairs he can hear a couple voices, one of which is Anna’s. Changing back into his clothes, he quietly slips out of the room and heads to the top of the stairs. He knows he shouldn't be eavesdropping, an invasion of privacy.

“You never met her..” He hears Josh’s voice.

Josh? He’s here?

“Sounds like I didn't need to,” Anna giggles. “But come on.. He’s your brother.”

“And? He made no effort to fix things.”

“How could he?” Anna says. She hands the warm tea to Josh and sits beside him on the couch. “You have to let him speak to you… I know you miss him..”

Josh looks down at the tea in his hands. “Yeah.. I do,” He says. “But he has to have understood why I did what I did.”

“I think he does..”

“Sucks that a divorce was what made him realize it..” Josh grows quiet again and takes a drink of his tea. “Is he here?”

Anna nods her head. “He’s asleep upstairs,” She says.

“How did he end up here anyways?”

Anna shrugs her shoulders. “I don't know, but I’m glad he did.”

“Second chance?”

“Can that happen?”

Josh takes another drink of his tea before turning his body on the couch to face Anna. “I think so,” He says. “And I’m not just saying that because I think you’re better for him. I say that because somehow he came to you when he could have just gone back to sleeping on Danny’s couch.”

“You knew?” He knew?

“Danny texted me asking if I knew what was going on. Obviously I didn’t know what was going on. I still don’t. I mean.. I know he’s divorced.. I saw May’s post online, flaunting herself all on some guy.”

Leaving the stairs, Jake goes back to the room and grabs his phone off of the nightstand. Sure enough, the top photo on her profile was of her locking lips with the same guy she was having an affair with. Without a doubt the whole world already knows about the divorce that was only just made “official” last night. It hasn’t even been finalized with the lawyers and she’s already flaunting her “new” relationship on the internet.

Not wanting to see her again..ever..he blocked her on everything and tossed his phone onto the bed.

“I told you he was awake!” He hears Josh shout. Looking up he sees his brother standing in the doorway of the bedroom. “Twin telepathy, she still doesn't believe me.” He says as he enters the room.

“I’m surprised you’re here,” Jake says.

“I originally went to your house when I heard about the divorce.”

Jake scoffs. “It’s all over the internet..”

“That too,” He says. “Mom called as well.”

“Fantastic..” Jake grumbles.

“What prompted this to happen anyways?”

“Turns out I’m not who she wanted to be with..” He says. “So you were right, go ahead and gloat.”

“I wouldn't do that,” Josh says. “Despite how much I want to. I know you loved her.”

“I did.. Until I found out she was having an affair.” Jake goes to sit back down on the bed. “I caught her when I got back home from a work trip.. She didn't know I was back so I left and stayed with Danny.”

“That explains it,” Josh says as he sits beside Jake. “Mom’s worried. You might want to call her.”

Jake shakes her head. “I don't want to talk to anyone…”

“Why? The divorce wasn't your fault, it wasn’t even your choice.”

“Doesn't matter Josh, I’m a failure.”

“You are not a fail-”

“Yes, I am!” Jake exclaims as he stands up from the bed. “Apparently sex with me isn't great and I’m not a good enough husband.”

“That’s not true.”

“No?” He says, turning back to face Josh. “Okay so then you get married, be cheated on again and again and later divorced because the person you chose to spend the rest of your life with doesn't feel the same. She wants sex, Josh, sex that apparently I can’t give her.” His eyes begin to fill with tears. “I loved her, Josh, and she broke me..” Josh pulls him in for a hug, holding him close as he starts to cry.

Anna stands outside of the bedroom, leaning against the wall as she listens to their conversation. Hearing Jake cry, believing he wasn’t good enough in his marriage, her heart breaks even more knowing just how deeply he was wounded when he never uttered the words to her.

“You are the perfect husband for someone, I’m sure of it.” Josh says as he pulls away from Jake. “As for the sex? I can’t speak on that.”

“Fuck off..” Jake grumbles as he playfully shoves Josh.

“Oh Anna!” Josh sings out.

“Josh, knock it off.”

Anna steps into the room and walks over to the two of them. “I know you two slept together, so remind him if he’s good or not.”

Jake turns to face Anna, his brows furrowing. “Did you tell him?”

“What? No.”

“Wait.. Stop.. You two.. Last night?” Anna and Jake both glance at each other making Josh’s jaw fall open. “I was talking about back when you two were a thing but last night?”

“It..just happened..” Jake says, scratching the back of his head. “We got to talking to each other and then–why am I even explaining this to you? Do you not approve of that either? I just got divorced, what business do I have sleeping with my ex-girlfriend?”

Sleeping with his ex-girlfriend? Sleeping?

“I’ll let you two figure that out,” Anna says. “I’m going to go get started on lunch..”

As she dumped pasta into a pot of boiling water on the stove, she felt Jake’s hands slide around her waist. “I didn’t mean to say it like that,” He says. “I loved every second of making love with you.”

“It’s fine..” She says as she sets the empty box to the counter beside the stove.

“You don’t sound fine,” He says.

“I don’t know what else you want me to say, Jake,” She says as she turns around to face him. “What is this?” She asks, motioning her finger between the both of them. “You’re right, you just got divorced and now you’re here with me. What is any of this supposed to mean?”

“What if this is our second chance?” He says. “This old flame that used to burn between us, what if we have this chance to reignite it?”

“Do you really want to jump right back into this?” She asks.

“If it means that I get to love you again? Yes. I realized last night while we were together that this is my home–you are my home.”

“This is insane, Jake, don’t you think so?”

“Love makes people do crazy things,” He says. “I showed up here, I don’t know why. Then suddenly we’re having sex in the same bed and it just feels right.”

“Where’s Josh?” She asks.

“He left, why?”

“Good,” She says smiling. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulls him close and presses her lips against his. “May is missing out on a very great man,” She says when they pull apart.

“No..” He says, lowering his head.

“Yes,” She lifts his chin, noticing the tears beginning to fill his eyes. “Hey, you have always been a great man.”

“How could I be? I was such a jerk when we broke up.”

“Yes, true. But before then, you were so loving and attentive. You loved me immensely in all aspects. You were my greatest love.. And who knows, maybe you can be again.”

“Maybe we’ll find out after lunch,” He says. “Before we burn this place down,” He reaches behind her and turns the burner down, allowing the boiling water and pasta to simmer down.

Lunch went by quickly and soon they found themselves right back where they started this morning. Clothes were shredded and discarded in various areas on the bedroom floor. That old flame that was extinguished years ago was finally getting its chance to burn big and bright. Being wrapped up in him for the second time wasn’t the same as it used to be but it still felt right, newer. Both of them are older and mature, both moved on from the past. Not a thought looms over them of his divorce or their past they shared together. All that mattered in the moment was the present as well as the future that dangled above their heads instead.

This time making love to her, he took in more details than he did the prior. She didn’t bear the small hips of her youth, they were slightly wider. Her breasts looked bigger, noting how his hands just barely covered them completely. She was filled in all of the aspects of her body and he found himself falling in love with all of it all over again. His fingers lightly traced the few gray hairs that littered her dark hair. Though she shied away, he would draw her back, reminding her that she still looked as beautiful as she ever did.

“The gray simply comes with the territory of growing older,” He says. “It’s an older beauty that must be cherished just as much as the youthful beauty we still long to have. It means we have lived, continuing to live, growing older with each second and minute that passes us by. Beauty follows us in every stage.”

“You have got to stop reading Jane Austrn,” Anna teases.

Jake chuckles, “It doesn’t come from Jane Austen,” He says. “It comes from Jacob Kiszka.” Anna giggles and lightly swats at his cheek.

“Do you have any gray hairs, Jacob Kiszka?”

“Not one.”

“Liar..” Anna brings her hands up to his hair and begins picking through it. “You do!” She exclaims. “Such an old man..”

“Old?” He fanes offense and rolls his eyes. “So then if I’m old, then that means you’re old too.”

“Never call me old again,” She says, pointing a stern finger at him. “I am not old, I am thirty-five.”

“Almost forty.”

“Jacob, you better shut your mouth.”

“Or what?” He says, raising his eyebrows as he smirks. Rolling over, he hovers above her, flicking his hair off to the side and out from the front of his hair. “Face it, Anna. We’ll be turning forty before we know it.”

Anna groans, “Don’t remind me. My body is already showing signs of middle age.”

Jake laughs and leans down to kiss her. “You and I both. My ass is starting to sag, I think.”

“Oh shut up,” Anna laughs.

Jake laughs again, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He begins to kiss down her neck, instinctively grinding against her center. “Let us grow old together,” He says. “Our asses sagging as our hair grows grayer, making love to each other as often we want. Who knows, maybe a kid or two..”

“I always wondered if you’d have any children by now,” Anna says. “Or at least one.”

“I wanted at least one by now, but she wasn’t ready.” He says. “And if I’m being honest, I only ever dreamt of having children with you. They’d have your beautiful smile, maybe even your eyes.”

“As long as they have your nose,” Anna says as she traces her finger over the bridge of his nose. “But we have to work on ourselves first before we start jumping into becoming parents. We only just reunited, I do not want to rush the time that I have with you–with us.”

“You will always have me–even if we did have little feet running through the house.” He says. “Nothing and no one can keep me from you, not this time.” Slowly he pushes inside of her, feeding on the soft moan that spilled from her mouth. “Let me relight this flame and keep it burning.”

“No more ultimatums?”

Jake shakes his head and thrusts his hips again, pushing deeper inside of her. “No more,” He says. “You will have me—all of me–wherever this new journey takes us, even if I am the one who follows you this time. I do not want to waste seven years of my life again being an idiot. I do not want to let someone use me and not love me for me.”

“I will always love you for you,” Anna says, holding his face in her hands. “I always have.”

@losfacedevil @writingcold @edgingthedarkness @i-love-gvf @katuschka @josh-iamyour-mama @sammysstolenbirks @asendingtothestarsasone @hollyco @musicislove3389 @its-interesting-van-kleep @katiegvf @tinydancer40 @gretavangroupie @lizzys-sunflower @fleetingjake @takenbythemadness @godly-sinsx @psychedelectable @dancingcarbon @cheersdannyx2 @piratejtk @katuschka @musicislove3389 @takenbythemadness @wildbluesorbit

[ayeyolooo]

slow to anger, and slow to speak.

hiii my babies! so i’m trying something new:) i’m going to put the title then the bible verses that’ll be getting used, meaning im going to have different scenarios and im going to incorporate how to use the bible verses in your everyday life! but with the characters of course :) this is a bit long!

proverbs 15:1 , james 1:19-20 and colossians 3:13

part 1 (this is part 1 ) part 2

you and choso argued with eachother very little. but when the both of you did argue.. it wasn’t nice. you were a bible driven girl and choso was a God fearing man. No that didn’t make the both of you perfect, in fact the two of you fell short of Gods glory on countless times. One of the times being right now.

The two of you were arguing over choso being extremely close to nobora while choso was upset with you for always hanging around megumi. It was just a whole misunderstanding though. Nobora went to choso when she needed advice on her relationship with megumi, while megumi and you were the best of friends.

“NO CHOSO YOU’RE ALWAYS AROUND HER, EVERYTIME IM NOT WITH YOU , YOU’RE WITH HER.” you shouted. choso jerked his head back in offense to that. “yeah like you don’t be up under megumi y/n, man get outta my face.” he sucked his teeth and continued to play 2k.

“That’s not fair choso.. you know good and well i go to him for everything, i go to him for advice and i go to him to ask about things that you like since you’ve known him longer than i’ve known you.” he just looked at you. “honestly y/n this is getting tiring and it’s like you don’t try to hear me out or anything. you just be fast to talk, and you stay yelling, and i’m simply not going to put up with this.” he simply shrugged and turned his game off. “what do you mean?” he shrugged his shoulders. “exactly what you take it as, i don’t want to be with you because i’m unhappy, here with you. You don’t care about other peoples feelings, you don’t care about half of the stuff that i care about.” he bluntly pointed out. which was not true.

you cared for him, and he was speaking out of anger. your heart dropped at his choice of words. you only yelled because you care. him acting careless was painful. choso picked up his keys and walked out of your room. you followed behind him. “wait where are you going are we going to talk it out?” you grabbed his arm and followed him to the door. he just looked at you. “no i don’t want to talk anything out with you, until you learn how to stop talking backwards and out of your butt then you can hang this relationship up, you make me unhappy and i’m tired of it.” he harshly snatched his arm from you as your heart started to beat fast, all of this happened too fast.

he slammed the door in your face , as you allowed warm tears to travel down your face. your throat closed up as you walked passed the living room where yuji, megi, gojo, nobora, inumaki and panda was residing at. yuji and megumi was playing madden together as gojo, inumaki, panda and nobora was playing uno. laughed erupted in the living room as loud chatter filled the room.

since the stairs were connected to the living room everyone seen you run up the stairs with your hand on your mouth. “y/n?” megumi called out. he was about to stand up and follow you but gojo just shook his hand and placed his hand on megumi’s stomach lightly pushing him back. “give her some time, i’ll go up there in a minute.” gojo reassured megumi , megumi clenched his cheek sliding his tongue across his top teeth before nodding and sitting back down.

he didn’t like the fact that his bestfriend was crying. Or sad, and he couldn’t do anything about it. Gojo heard everything, but he stayed quiet , not wanting to be in your business, but it seems like he needed to be a father figure at the moment. he didn’t want his children fighting. although gojo wasn’t your real dad, he acted like one to everyone which is why he cared so deeply about everyone. gojo made his way up the stairs hearing your soft sniffles and hearing the voicemail from your phone. you just sobbed harder.

you weren’t trying to manipulate him or anything, when you feel like you aren’t being heard you had to elevate your voice, which wasn’t something that you were proud of. knock knock knock “y/n?” gojo trailed off. “hm?” he heard shuffling in your room. you opened the door and was met with gojo’s piercing blue eyes. “what happened why are you and pretty boy so upset with one another?” he laid on his side on your bed his shirt lifting up a little in the process. his feet dangled off the end of your bed as he just looked at you.

‘tek it.’ softly played on your tv as you began to explain to him what happened. “so choso and i gotten into an argument because i was trying to explain to him about my feelings and how i felt like him and nobora were getting a bit too close.” gojo nodded. “hmm, understandable but did you try letting him talk?” he tilted his head to the left. you just sighed in defeat and shook your head no.

“that’s your problem there y/n, you don’t allow him to open up, but then when he doesn’t want to talk about his feelings you get upset with him.” you just stood there looking dumb. “i know, and i regret it badly, i just wanted to talk it out.” you played with your fingers. “now im not gonna sit here and just pin you to be the bad person because he also does things, not just you.—“

“—and i’m going to talk to him about it, but as of right now you need to read proverbs 15:1 and james 1:19-20; really study it love.” gojo grabbed your pink bible and flipped to proverbs chapter 15 verse one. “here do you want me to read it to you?” you nodded. “okay.” he nodded before clearing his throat.

“A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.” (proverbs 15:1) his voice was soothing almost as if your dad was reading you a bedtime story. he handed you your journal and a pen. “now really meditate on this word and see what God is telling you here.” he points to the particular verse. “i heard the front door close, i’ll be back soon.” gojo announced , before slipping out of the door.

A/N

heyyy guyssss!!! i hope you all like the new idea! i just wanted to write these so that i can be transparent with you all about being a christian! and how it isn’t always dandy and rainbows !! we too fall short and i have the bible verses to guide the characters(and you ofc😊!) and lead them how God says in his word.😽

[upthewitchypunx]

I don't think I have told this whole story before.

stuff about my house, an old abusive relationship, early witchling behavior, and growth...

So, my ex-husband and I bought this house in January of 2001. As soon as I walked into the house I knew it was *my* house, this was way before I started studying witchcraft.

The relationship was emotionally abusive from the beginning but I had no skills or understanding of how to deal with conflict and thought if I just did what he asked it would be alright, but it was never enough. I was always fucking up by doing something I wanted to do that my ex did not want me to do. He's say things like "you are so smart that you can talk yourself into anything and that's why you keep getting confused. So if you just do what I want you won't have problems." or something like that. Like, that just gives you a base level of how twisted my brain was. (there's a digital version of the zine I wrote about it here)

The house had strange spots in it that felt weird and our incongruity seemed to feed it. One of our housemates reported chairs sliding across the floor and things going missing. At one point I moved out then moved back in while we were trying to go to counseling and work things through. We thought a change would be good and we moved into that room the housemate had issues with, stayed 3 nights and revealed to each other that we felt weird and could not sleep, so we moved to a different room.

Counseling didn't work and I eventually found to courage to leave the winter of 05-06, but we still owned a business together and a lot of my things were still in the house. The person he dated after me (we became friends after she experiences some of the same abuse) saw visions of me in the house and I was very angry.

In 2005, before I left and i was sleeping on a mat on the floor of the basement, I started studying witchcraft. Got myself some Cunningham books and felt really silly trying to do rituals and hiding it. In the divorce I lost the business but got the house with idea that I would sell it. I cleaned the whole thing, painted everything, put in new fixtures. Took a punk house and made it into something more friendly. By the time I was done it was the spring of 2007. The house went on the market just as the markets were crashing. Someone was on the hook to buy it and kept it off the market for the full 30 days and by that time the house had lost a lot of value.

Anyway! We decided to move into it it with some friends in October 0f 2007. One of the friends was Wiccan and I was sort of interested in it and went to a few open rituals with her. She was taking a year and a day class and asked her teachers to help cleanse the house before we moved in. I had already stashed a bunch of witchy stuff i bought in the closet that would be my room. We opened all the windows, doors, drawers, and what not. We started at our fireplace and lit incense, flicked consecrated salt water with springs of rosemary and sage from the garden, and chanted. One of the teachers gestured towards the closet I had my newly acquired witchy shit in and asked what was in there. I said nothing and that room wasn't the problem, the room next to it where the chairs had moved was, so the focused on that. I'm still not sure why I didn't explain.

Anyway, at that point our house became the Spiral House and we have not had any of the old garbage that I'm sure was being fed by a shitting relationship. After that I built my own magical system and my own wards that work with the land and the house. I've made a secure home and I do love my house and my neighborhood.

Both houses next to us have been broken in to, but ours has not. I still think it is funny when some people stop at the threshold and I have to invite them in like vampires. lol.

[coastershells]

D I V I N E . .ᐟ

IN WHICH — dallas has been obsessed with you for months.

⚠️ : uh , smut.. again… and i guess this is similar to the one i posted the other day? but like , this was an ask thrown out to the dallas x reader tag so i’m gonna try to give it justice.

ʚ ɞ / wc : 5.3k

you silently walk down the dark street , and the only possible light is from the moon and the streetlights. And honestly? you’re stupid. well , not really , but you’re walking alone as a greaser. and that’s the number one thing you shouldn’t do.

socs get so bored they would beat up even a girl , it doesn’t matter to them. meaning you’re no different.

it sucks , but you need to see dallas.

recently , your ex boyfriend has been giving you things you don’t even want. flowers , chocolate , anything you could name , he would have it at your doorstep or stashed into your locker. you don’t wanna talk about the amount of times you’ve gotten jealous stares from people around you. but there was nothing to be jealous about.

if you could get rid of him , you would. in a heartbeat. you just want to be left alone.

it’s him who cheated anyway ; he hooked up with another girl , sylvia , you think her name was? though you don’t really care for her. apparently , she was just like that.

you snapped yourself out of your deep thought when you saw a light flicker , and you being paranoid about being out here in the first place , started to pick up your pace.

eventually , you made it to the all familiar building , buck merrill’s place. while you recall dallas working here , whenever he isn’t getting himself into illegal activities , he’s crashing here , or responsibly ( like he promised ) , hanging out with you to keep your ex away at times.

a few weeks ago , you had asked dallas to fake date you so your ex could back off. it worked for the most part , but that didn’t stop your ex from giving you gifts and asking to ‘ just be friends ‘.

even though everyone knows where that goes.

you sigh as you walk up the steps , hand sliding across the rails as you take a deep breath before knocking on the door. you hope it’s heard with how the music is booming , enough to shake the house like you’re in a cartoon of some sort.

the door swings open , you notice it was a girl , but she paid no attention to you , quickly going back to dancing with her friends. you shyly step into the house and close the door behind you. trying your best to ignore the music and the smell of cigarettes in the air , you make your way to the only place dallas would be at this hour.

his room. either sleeping , or smoking.

you don’t knock first , or made any sort of sound to be let in , you just do it.

and of course , you were right. dallas was at his window smoking. the window was slightly open. his back was facing you until you opened the door.

“ hey dallas. “

“ hey. why’re you here? checkin’ up on me? you’re so kind. “ he teases and you roll your eyes.

“ actually , i’ve gotta complaint. “

dallas raises a brow , and makes a weird sound. “ mmh? do tell. “

you sigh and close the door , trying to ignore the way the house is shaking. the ashtray on the edge of the window is slightly shaking as the music downstairs booms. “ you are horrible at fake dating. “ you deadpan and he laughs.

“ sorry , but can i let you know that i’ve never done this before? usually if i’m with a girl , i’m with her. this is different. “

“ exactly my point , dallas. why not just treat me like you would treat your girlfriend? “

he blinks and stares at you blankly. “ well , you aren’t my girlfriend. that’s the thing , now listen , [name] — “

“ dude , fake dating is everything couples do just without the love. think of it like that , would you? “ you groan. it’s one of those nights he’s trying to be smart and make you look dumb.

“ i mean , “ he takes a drag from his cigarette. “ sure. i guess. you complain a whole lot about us not giving off an actual dating vibe. you like me or somethin’? “

you gag. he’s right , but he’s wrong. you would try dating him , but you honestly just wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to give it your all , and knowing dallas , he wouldn’t give anywhere close to anything.

“ no. ew , not in a million years you fucking — you fucking freak! “ you point at him with a scowl , and he smiles , putting his cigarette out and onto the ashtray , he walks over to his bed and kicks his shoes off.

“ mhm. got it. just for your ex. right. okay. “

you nod in agreement , and you begin to head for the door.

“ wait , where are you goin’? downstairs? i didn’t take you for the party type. “ he chuckled at his own joke , and the look on your face was just about the opposite.

“ i’m going home. “

“ at this hour? “

“ i walked here at this hour , for your information. “

“ dangerous girl. come on , lay down. “

“ like.. “ you turn around and point at him in disgust. “ with you? “ he nods and your face does nothing but twist more. “ no. that’s disgusting. id rather walk home. “

dallas sighs. “ you’re crazy , man. you want us to act like we’re dating , then you don’t. could you pick a side? “

“ there’s no one around so we don’t have to act dallas. please. use your head. “

“ alright , if you wanna walk home then go ahead. “ he urges you out , and you do exactly that. he looks pissed that you don’t wanna stay.

such an asshole.

the next day at school went rather smooth , you went to your same classes , annoyed the teachers , hung out with your friends at lunch , and made it to the end of the day.

“ i’ll see you tomorrow , right? “ your friend lorelai asks.

“ yup , i promise. love ya , bye! “ you wave frantically as she walks away , and another voice rings from behind you.

“ hey babe. “ an all too familiar voice speaks out. and you can already feel yourself getting irritated. “ don’t call me that , it’s over between us. cant you just — “

“ got somethin’ for you. “ he says , shoving flowers in your face and you fight the urge to sneeze , or yell. you close your eyes and with an irritated sigh , you push it away from your face. “ i don’t want your shit , please go away. “ you say as you turn and walk away from him. “ ah — wait! “ he calls out and you make an annoyed sound , with a groan , you keep walking.

“ i don’t wanna hear it , fuck off. i’m being nice. “ you roll your eyes as he stutters over his words.

“ your boyfriend is cheating on you. “

“ what? “

you don’t know what to say to that. dallas isn’t your boyfriend , but he’s covering for you. so stuff like this won’t happen.

“ what do you mean? “ you turn around and he sighs in relief when he has your attention.

“ at buck’s last night , i saw you walk in but was too out to say anything. after you left dallas was downstairs and had a girl pinned to the wall. the rest you should know. “

you ball your fist , and you don’t know who to be angry at.

you settle on both.

how could he be so damn reckless?

as soon as you get your ex off your trail , you storm to your house. you look at your calendar and you’re actually quite happy that it’s friday for once. you can sleep all day , maybe hang out with johnny and pony later , get into some trouble with them , or try your best to stay out of it.

though , a part of you just wants to rest for the whole weekend.

you know on monday your ex is going to spread the word , and then he’ll be hot back on your tail again. you wish he would just.. forget about you.

it’s totally not like he’s the one who said you guys should break up after he cheated on you. why doesn’t he go back to the girl he oh so loves more than you?

you get annoyed at the thoughts , and kick your feet on your bed , rambling on to yourself.

until those kicks and your voice came to a stop as you heard 8 knocks in a rhythm on your window.

it better not be dallas — too childish. two-bit , maybe?

you pray that it’s not dallas , or your ex. anyone but those two , fucking anyone.

instead of having to shoo said people away , you figure out it was johnny and ponyboy.

you smile.

“ hey , [name]. “ johnny says in that same voice he always uses. it’s soft , and you can barley hear it while you open the window. ponyboy shoves his hands in his pockets.

“ hey guys , what’s the matter? “ you ask , and johnny shakes his head while ponyboy speaks up.

“ nothin’. just wanted to tell you that we are going to the drive in and wanted to ask you to tag along. “

you hum in response , giving it deep thought. you figured ; you don’t have anything else to do anyway , so you’ll just go.

“ sure , when? “ you glance between the two boys.

“ well , we are just walking around right now , doing random things. if you wanna join that — “

“ don’t make it seem like we are doing bad things , ponyboy. just walkin’ around. “ johnny says scoldingly , and you stifle a laugh.

“ sure , i’ll tag along. just let me put something random on. give me a second! “ you answer and you disappear into your house as the boys wait outside of your window.

you decide on something random , baggy jeans , a shirt that fits nicely on you , and beaten up converse that johnny somehow got for you.

you fix your hair slightly , though nothing big has to be done to it because you had done it in the morning for school.

with that , you grab your wallet , and return to the window.

“ hold this , pony , “ you toss your wallet to him and slowly make your way out of the window. johnny gets close to make sure you don’t fall. you reach up behind you to close the window just slightly , you have to make sure you’re able to get back in without getting yelled at by your parents.

once your out and you fix your shirt , pony gives you your wallet back , and you guys begin to walk away from your house.

“ so where we headed? “ johnny asked seemingly the both of you.

“ i wanna see a fight. “ you say and ponyboy hesitated before nodding , johnny shrugs and agrees.

“ just gotta be out of there before the fuzz pull up. “ johnny says and you genuinely laugh.

you all indeed kept to your word , fights are easy to find around your parts , and it’s like a free movie before you even go to the drive in. in some fights , knives are pulled , guns that aren’t loaded yet scare everyone away , and some used objects nearby. you usually don’t stay for those fights incase it gets too bloody.

night begins to fall , and all three of you began to make your way over to the drive in.

“ you guys know what movie we are watching? “

“ nah man , most of the times i don’t even understand the movies we watch. “ johnny comments as he hops the gate , pony does it flawlessly , and you , lastly , slightly struggle to jump over the fence. they seemed to exchange a glance and stifle a laugh , but you try to pay no attention to it.

as you go to sit down , johnny and pony tell you to find seats and they’ll go and get popcorn , while you don’t want to alone , you shrug and do so anyways.

the movie seems to be some sort of beach movie , telling from the surfing and the screams of the girls. it’s trash , but it’s also the 60s. some said the 2000s are promised to be better. so you’ll go off of that.

you see four open seats in the near front. obviously , there’s only two of you , but the thought of two-bit coming along with the chance is high. so you take a seat in the middle. you sit down and take a view of everyone around you , you see some socs , but for the most part they seem to be behaving slightly well. so you turn from their direction. another group of people you see are greaser girls.

sylvia is one of them.

you scoff and hold your head in your palm , you were getting bored without johnny and pony. how long was the line? you had to have spent atleast 4 minutes looking for seats and sitting there.

“ hey , this seat taken? “

before you register the familiar voice , you speak up. “ uh — yeah , my friends are — “ you look up to the person when something just small clicks and tells you to look.

and you’re not very happy that you did.

“ dallas? “

“ the only one round here , thank you. “ he says , completely ignoring what you had said earlier and taking a seat next to you , wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “ thank god for that. “ you sigh and he seems to just get a little pissed off about it.

“ your ex is here , over there. “ he nods his head in the direction and you dare only look for a second. yup. that’s him. but you still aren’t very happy with what dallas did.

“ oh. “ you shift uncomfortably and slowly nudge his arm off , to which he puts it on again , and this time you actually push his arm away. “ move , please. “

“ what’s with ya? is it over me askin’ you to stay that night? c’mon. bring it in — “

“ get the hell off me , dallas. “

“ so that’s not the problem. what is it , then? “

you shrug and cross your arms. “ nothing. “

“ you actin’ like a bitch ain’t nothin.’ “

“ what did you just call me ? “

before dallas can respond , ponyboy and johnny arrive at the seats.

“ man , we were looking all over for you. “ ponyboy says and johnny heads to the seat on the other side of you.

“ hey dal. “ johnny speaks out and dallas puts up a hand. “ ey’ johnnycakes. “ dallas says as he stiffens up. dallas gives you a look , but you don’t share it , nor do you speak.

you don’t say anything at all for the whole movie.

when the movies are done and over with , bottles tossed onto the ground , and the laughing and crowds die down and leave , all four of you are left walking down the street.

“ you better hurry home , ponyboy , or darry won’t let you hear the end of it. “ johnny says , more than teasing , he seems serious.

“ i know , i know , i’m goin’. “ he waves you all off and you all say your byes.

even though you knew it , johnny was the next to go. he claimed that he didn’t want to head home and made his way to the lot. you offered him to sleep at your house but he nicely declined. and from the looks of it , dallas didn’t seem to like the idea of it either. johnny didn’t notice , somehow.

once johnny was out of earshot , dallas spoke up. and he sounded more than mad.

“ what the fuck is your problem tonight? “

“ what’s my problem? what is your problem , dallas ?! “ you whisper shout.

“ you’ve been acting like an ass , what happened to fake dating? “

you groan and mentally face palm , sighing.

“ my ex said he saw you cheating on me at the party the other night. “

“ what? “ he laughs dryly , amused. “ and you’re gonna believe him over me? what the fuck , [name]? are you fuckin’ — insane? “

you push him away and he frowns. “ maybe i am! now he’ll think we’ve broken up , and i bet he’ll tell the whole school! then it’ll go to flames! “ you sigh. “ honestly , you were no damn help anyways. “ you wave dismissively and turn the other way.

“ alright then , fuck you! you’ll believe your ex over your own friend? maybe you deserve to be humiliated at school. “ he spits , and even though it’s a dagger in your heart , you don’t turn around. your heartbeat is way too fast to that. and there’s no way you can give in.

you try to keep yourself together as you walk home ; you really do. but you can’t. your silent sobs turn into cries , and you just pray nobody can hear you. if they did , you think you would just pass away then and there.

you make it home , and slide open your window , crawling in and collapsing on the floor , and only then do you silent your cries to avoid waking up your parents.

did dallas really mean what he said?

the following day was saturday , but to you it felt like a monday. like you had to get up for something , though you didn’t , you just had an itch you couldn’t quite get to.

you decided that you wouldn’t go out that day , your parents wouldn’t be back til evening , you had just went to the movies , and you felt like absolute shit knowing what was going to go down on monday.

and the fact you had just lost a friend.

maybe you overreacted , sure. but he promised to fake date you and make sure

and to be honest , you loved dallas. you really did.

it started when you first asked him , it could’ve been anyone you could ask , it could’ve been sodapop to make it more believable , or johnny because of how two-bit claimed you both act the same , but you didn’t.

it started when you first asked him , it could’ve been anyone you could ask , it could’ve been sodapop to make it more believable , or johnny because of how two-bit claimed you both act the same , but you didn’t.

you picked the worst boy in the group , you picked dallas winston. and you believe your so , so stupid —

an object was thrown at your window.

you crack your eye open and hiss when the sunlight invades it. it’s too blurry for you to see anything , so you weakly swat at air.

“ go away.. “ you manage to mutter , but it obviously wasn’t even close to being heard when another series of objects that you make out to be pebbles come in contact with your window.

you sluggishly get up , and stumble over to the window , when you open it , you dodge a pebble without even trying to. you stare blankly behind you , mostly ignoring the person who was throwing things at your window. you hoped it was just a kid , or something , if they left you could go right back to sleep.

you almost didn’t register dallas hopping into your room without a word.

you wanna yell at him , scream , tell him to get out of your house , but you don’t.

instead you silently walk back over to your bed , lift the blanket , and flop onto your bed. you hear dallas light a cigarette , but you tune it out.

you try to tune him out in general , but it obviously doesn’t work when he speaks out to you.

“ hey. could you get up? “

“ that’s a bunch of work , man. “ you grumble.

“ alright , get up. i needa explain myself before you get all grumpy at me again. “

you already are , but without a word , you get up and sit on your bed. you push dallas away so he doesn’t sit next to you.

with a annoyed sigh , dallas begins to speak again. “ look , i don’t know why you would believe that shithead , but i ain’t cheat on you. “ you nod , not really believing him. “ you realize what he’s doin’ , right? he’s trying to ‘break’ us up so he has a better chance again. i was in my room all night. “

when you nod your head again , dallas can tell that you’re blankly not listening , he walks towards you and grabs your shoulders. and at this rate , you being fully awake , find the energy to tell him off.

“ get out of my house. “

“ you aren’t listening to me. “

“ because you’re a liar. i know you. “

dallas scoffs. “ you don’t know shit , clearly. “

“ what do i not know about you , dallas? “

“ hmm , i don’t fucking know , maybe that i’m not lyin’ and you’re believing your stupid ex over me , and the fact that i like you — “

“ what? “

“ wasn’t it obvious , [name]? “ he leans in close. too close.

and you realized all too late , it was obvious.

the way he accepted to fake date you so quick and was so happy about it , the pet names he slipped in every so often , the physical touch , the way he acted around you.

but you had to make sure.

“ like , you uh , love me? “

“ yes , you fucking idiot. i’ve loved you for a long time by now. why would i ruin my only chance to be with you? “ he says , he almost seems annoyed with the way he shakes you.

“ so.. what? “

“ what do you mean so what , you gon believe me or believe your ex? “

you both still in silence , dallas raises an eyebrow when you both make eye contact. you mumble something he doesn’t quite get , and he cocks his head closer to your ear. “ what? speak up. “

“ i said i believe you — i believe you dallas. “

“ it’s dal for you. “

you sigh. “ i’m sorry , dal. i’m sorry for not believin’ you and being an ass. “

“ it’s fine. i’m gonna beat that little shits ass when i see em’ though. “ he says as he backs away from you , and sits on your bed.

“ where’s your parents? “

“ work. wont be back til evening. “

“ evening , huh? “ dallas repeats what you said. “ it’s barley 6am , y’know , that could leave us time to.. “ dallas trails off , and it only takes a second to click what he wants.

“ wha — dallas — already? i mean , are we even — “

“ what we are is up to you , sweetheart. i personally have my own opinions , but your the boss. just make sure you aren’t flirtin’ with any guys , yeah? “ dallas teases and tangles his hand in your hair , you smile nervously , and fidget with your hands.

the action is slowly stopped as he took one of your hands and held it with his other , you jolted a bit when he pushed your head in for a kiss , you could barley catch your breath and the fact that this was the dallas winston giving you a kiss didn’t help with your breathing. when he pulled away , he couldn’t help but laugh at you trying to catch your breath.

“ s’pretty. can’t believe this is all mine now. “ he whispers to nobody in particular and gently pushes you farther onto the bed , and you feel yourself heating up already.

“ is this okay , doll? can i do this? “ he releases your hair and places a hand on your stomach , slowly trailing it up , you get goosebumps but you don’t comment.

“ y — yeah.. please.. “ your plead falls silent as he finds his way to your chest , and massages your breast.

“ tell me if i’m too rough. i don’t mean to be. “ and that’s something you didn’t expect from dallas , you expected him to maybe be rough , and just apologize after.

and that gets you thinking.

does he even know what aftercare is?

it’s honestly harder than you expected to focus on thinking and what he’s doing to you as of now. you thought it was a joke of how hard it is to concentrate in situations like this , but it indeed isn’t. not when he’s still apologizing for the things he said to you , which is surprisingly in itself to get an apology from the dallas winston , but he’s also telling you how great you’re doing and being ever so gentle.

“ dallas — “ he makes a sound of disapproval and you weakly clear your throat. “ dals , can you — can i — have a , uh - like , y’know.. a — “ before you can form the word , dallas’ lips are already crushed on yours , and you can’t bring yourself to pull away again , you just sink into the bed.

dallas removes his hand from under your shirt and he slowly travels his hand lower and lower , eventually finding a grip on your pants and panties at once , and you can’t say that you were ever ready for the way he pulled them both off and discarded them off your bed. in a desperate attempt of covering yourself , you stretch your shirt.

“ don’t gotta hide from me. god , so beautiful , doll. so beautiful. “ he grins as he pulls your shirt out of your hands , you look to the side in embarrassment , and instead cover your face. this time , dallas doesn’t move your hands away.

“ my face not.. “ you trail off as you watch him messily unbutton his jeans through a crack in between your hands , and you shiver as he drops them and you realize that he’s basically already made a wet spot in his trousers. “ wait — holy shit , dal , no warm up? come on — i don’t even know your size! “

you stabled yourself on his arms and he laughs , mixed with an inhale. “ mhm? you still need that even with how your dripping? i’ve barley touched you yet , man. “

you remove your hands from your face , and run one through dallas’ hair , and he removes his trousers. you don’t look down at all , you’re scared to. even as he leans down and goes for your neck , going way too high for any of your shirts to cover.

and you still don’t look. even as he whispers sweet nothing into your ears and slowly slides into you , telling you you’re going to be just fine when your breath hitches and you whine at the stretch.

you feel like your insides are being ripped , in a good way but at the same time , goddamn.

“ y’fine.. just fine.. gonna be alright , gonna be still f’me , yeah? “

you let out a choked moan as he goes for your neck again , except on the other side and lower than the last. when he pulls away , you nod. a very late answer but when he’s inside you and sucking on your neck it’s just ever so slightly hard to talk.

even though you knew he was gonna move eventually , you weren’t ready for it. he pulls out slowly , and like he promised , he’s gentle. a slow pull and a slow push.

“ bet your ex couldn’t do this. “ he groans , lightly picking up the pace as your sounds , aswell as skin going against skin grows with it. “ couldn’t fuck you like i will. “ he laughs dryly , grabbing your waist. you let out a whine mixed with a moan , and you render your hands utterly useless to save you.

it’s not like anyone is home anyway.

“ he couldn’t , could he? hmm ? “ he leans in close to your ear face , and you shake your head , in response , he makes a face of disapproval. “ words , doll , words. “ he urges you , and you have to actually think in order to say your answer.

“ n… fuck — no , he — he couldn’t. “ you gasp out most of the words , and that must’ve riled him up because his pace picked up even more , and at this point , words weren’t even possible. just gasps and moans , and whatever other sounds you could make out.

so much for gentle.

you get a tingling feeling in your stomach , and you notice at some points dallas sometimes gets sloppy and off pace , yet his grunts stay low.

you reach for the back of his head , and try to push it down , which he smiles at and leans down into yet another kiss , though this one is filled with messiness and saliva.

this time you don’t have to struggle for air , the amount of gasps you gave out were probably more than enough.

you whine into the kiss as that feeling in your stomach swirls , and suddenly you aren’t doing such a great job at that ‘ staying still. ‘

the kiss is broken with pants from both of you , what mostly disgusts you are the spit trail that falls right on your chest , even as heated as you are , it still feels cold.

“ e — ew.. dal.. t — that’s.. that’s fuckin’.. “ you try to manage , but you also can’t find it in you to actually complain correctly.

you sigh , and finally relax your shoulders. the pain on your neck doesn’t exactly go away.

you look up at dallas , and he looks absolutely beautiful. the morning sun coming in from your window makes him look like some sort of greek god , except for the fact he sure doesn’t act like one.

“ so.. “ he chuckles. “ how about a blowjob? “

“ dal , i’ll fucking kill you. let me recover. “

what ? uh. i’m not late you’re late hahahahahaha

aaaaaah… this is ass i’m sorry

in all seriousness , sorry for being late !! i fell sick and decided to rot and play roblox instead. yes i still play roblox. fight me if you disagree.

taglist : @mrsdillonx , @r0seb100d , @every1hatesmayaa !!

[jadeshifting]

★⋆. — A SLYTHERIN SUMMER.

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.　　. 　 ˚　. when summer arrives, everyone rolls up to Blaise’s seaside estate like it’s a Vogue shoot, luggage charmed to unpack itself into the sprawling, marble-floored guest rooms. every day starts with the morning light spilling in through enchanted stained glass, cups of iced lavender tea swirling themselves, and Theo lazily enchanting seagulls to dive-bomb unsuspecting his unsuspecting friends (or the ones who most recently annoyed him, that is)

.　　. 　 ˚　. Blaise and his eternal composure take the lead when we take the boat out, steering it through crystal-clear waters. we recline on plush lounge. chairs with skin exposed to the sky, soaking up the sun, enchanted drinks in hand. the gentle breeze carries the sound of shouting and laughter across the water, eventually blending into a smooth melody with the distant calls of sea creatures

.　　. 　 ˚　. most mornings are spent endlessly honing magic—Astoria perfecting elegant, borderline-terrifying wandless spells, Mattheo and Lorenzo turning “study sessions” into duel-offs on the cliffside (bonus points for dramatic waves crashing behind them)

we slip dark, secretive magic into the mix, the kind of charms that definitely aren’t on the Hogwarts syllabus. Pansy calls it “illicit academia,” and honestly, it sticks

.　　. 　 ˚　. afternoons are all about chic leisure

glam swimsuits and charmed hair as we lounge by the pool that’s charmed to shimmer like liquid emeralds. Blaise conjures endless trays of chilled elderflower fizz, while Millicent beats Draco in a magical version of volleyball that ends with him sulking (as usual)

when the heat’s too much, we retreat to the grand sitting room, idly lounging on velvet sofas as enchanted gramophones spin lazily jazzy wizarding tunes

.　　. 　 ˚　. evenings take a darker turn—the moonlit garden becomes a playground for whispered secrets and “friendly” competitions

Draco and i go head-to-head in potion-making confrontations after he implies my higher grade was only because Snape liked me more (he doesn’t like anyone, scoff), crafting elixirs so potent they glow in the dark. the stakes? bragging rights and a rare, glittering vial of unicorn hair Pansy snatched from her family vault

.　　. 　 ˚　. the Slytherins gather in an ancient forest clearing after nightfall, where the air hums with anticipation. Mattheo and Draco get into playful duel, wands crackling with vibrant spells that light up the night like a personal firework show—but arguably brighter. Pansy and i, perched on moss-covered rocks, cheer them on with sly grins, knowing full well the real sparks are flying elsewhere

.　　. 　 ˚　. nothing can ever be all fun and games, we gather in the Bulstrode or the Malfoy grand library, poring over ancient tomes by candlelight. notes fly between us, enchanted quills scribbling furiously as we delve into forbidden spells and advanced potions, and anything we can get our hands on to prepare for the coming school year (always be ahead, that’s the rule.) the air is thick with concentration and the occasional sarcastic remark to break the intensity

.　　. 　 ˚　. then come the galas—because what’s a Slytherin summer without high-society drama?

decked out in designer robes, we glide into ballrooms like walking magazine covers. but behind the perfectly rehearsed smiles? a silent war

the air buzzes with thinly veiled competition. Pansy tosses her hair, exchanging sharp barbs with me as we play the part of rivals, each vying for our family’s approval. though behind everyone’s backs, we exchange winks, fully in on the joke of our faux feuding

each of us is playing the game for our families—vying to be the smartest, the most charming, the most impressive heir. the Slytherins excel after so many years of this, slipping between conversations with the charm of practiced performers while keeping an eye out for political secrets that can be exploited later

.　　. 　 ˚　. of course, we always circle back to each other

the best nights are spent sprawled across the expansive balconies, enchanted lanterns floating overhead as we trade stories, laugh about our parents’ ridiculous expectations, and share a few dark truths we wouldn’t dare breathe to anyone else

at the end of the day, no one else really gets us like our own group does

.　　. 　 ˚　. the Greengrass family’s coastal villa finds us for a weekend. the sun dips low, casting a golden glow over the pristine shoreline. the Slytherins lounge on velvet blankets, sipping enchanted cocktails while the waves crash rhythmically, mirroring the low hum of laughter and whispered secrets. sand-dusted toes peek from designer sandals, and a flick of Astoria’s wand summons floating lanterns that bathe the gathering in a dreamy luminescence

.　　. 　 ˚　. by the time summer winds down, the Slytherins have more than left their mark—burnt circles on the cliffside from duels, whispered rumors at every gala, and the lingering scent of salt air mixed with mischief. until next year :)

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[mrsarcherofinfamy]

Hi can you please do a Damian Priest x Reader where the reader and Damian are dating and she gets jealous about him and Kayden are making TikTok videos together ( I love Kayden and her videos ❤️). And a fluff at the end.

●Damian Priest x Reader●

____________________________________________________

*Y/N's POV*

Sitting in the passenger's seat in my best friend Zelina Vega's car, I am scrolling on TikTok as she is driving us to our next location. I come across Kayden's video and the corner says "POV: he asks you to drive." I watch it and as the camera turns towards the passenger seat, Damian's body comes into frame making me gasp.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Kayden posted another video. And apparently she is driving Damian to the next show. When he told me he was going by himself."

"Girl.... I told you he was no good for you."

"I know. You have told me multiple times."

"Yes I have. And now he is over here taking videos with Kayden acting like they are together. Again. Maybe when we get to the hotel, you take him off your reservation for the room and make him have his own room. He didn't tell you he was going with Kayden than he can be surprised about his own hotel room when he gets there."

"I guess you are right. I am very pissed off about this."

"Give him a taste of his own medicine."

I shake my head, close my phone and lay against the seat starting to fall asleep.

____________________________________________________

*at the hotel*

We walk up to the counter and a nice lady greets us.

"Hello ladies. How may I help you?"

"I'm checking in for Y/N."

"Y/N and Damian?"

"No. Just Y/N. I don't want Damian on the reservation anymore."

"Okay. I can do that for you. Give me a few minutes."

She goes on typing on the computer while we wait. Zelina goes to another lady to check in. The lady gives me my keycard and all the information making sure Damian has been taken off the reservation. We grab our belongings and head up to our hotel rooms. I say goodbye to Zelina, swipe my card and enter my room. I throw my bags on the bed and flop down next to them. Next thing I know I am fast asleep.

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

*later in the night*

"Y/N! Y/N!"

I sit up, rub my face and try to understand why I hear someone yelling my name from the hallway. I get up putting my shirt and sweatpants back on that I apparently took off some time while I was sleeping. I walk up to the door and listen to who is shouting.

"Y/N! I will break down every one of these doors until I find you!"

"Please calm down."

I open the door and slightly look out seeing Damian looking super angry standing in the hallway and Kayden in front of him with her hands on his chest trying to get him to calm down. I open the door and lean against the doorframe crossing my arms. He sees me and pushes past Kayden walking up to me.

"Y/N! Why did you take me off our reservation?! You have someone else here?!"

He pushes me out of the way of the door and walks into my room. A tear rolls down my cheek at the questions he just asked me. He starts walking around my room looking for someone when I am the only one in my room. Kayden comes up next to me, puts a hand on my shoulder and looks in at Damian.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you in any way. If there is anyth....."

I stop her before she keeps talking.

"Its not you. You didn't do anything wrong. He lied to me. And now he thinks I'm cheating on him."

"I'm gonna go."

She turns and runs down the hallway when I turn looking at Damian who is standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed. I close the door, turn to look at him and cross my arms as well.

"Care to explain why you took me off our reservation?"

"Care to explain why you lied to me and got a ride from Kayden?"

"I didn't lie to you! Kayden is my friend! I asked her to drive me because I was exhausted from having the main event of Raw! You already left with Zelina! I didn't wanna fall asleep behind the wheel!"

"You told me to leave with Zelina! That you would be fine driving by yourself! You didn't even text me to tell me you were going with Kayden! Than you keep making these tik tok videos together and everyone thinks you two are together and dating! Like you left me behind! You barely take pictures with me but you take videos with everyone else! How do you think I feel?!"

"I don't know how you feel because you never talk to me about your feelings!"

"I try but you never seem to have time to sit down and talk! You are either wrestling or hanging out with your friends! Then when you come back home to me, you go right to bed! When is there time to talk?"

He stares at me, looking like he doesn't know what to say. I wipe the tears that have seemed to start running down my face as I just laid out all my feelings to Damian. I take a deep breath and sit down on the bed.

"Y/N, I'm sorry...."

"Damian, I don't wanna hear you are sorry. I love you. But you really need to work on communication with me and spending more time with me. That's all I ask."

He kneels down in front of me putting his hands on the top of my knees looking up at me.

"Babygirl, I love you more than you will ever know. I will work on communication with you and we will spend way more time together that you might get sick of me."

I giggle looking at him. He puts his hands on my cheeks looking at me smiling.

"I promise Y/N. With my whole heart. I love you."

"I love you too."

He pulls my face to his and kisses me hard. He starts pushing me back on the bed climbing over top of me still kissing me. Seems I will be in for a long night.....

THE END.

[tieflingkisser]

everyone give your kitties a kiss from me tonight

my sweet old lady had to be put to sleep last night after a midnight trip to the emergency vet

[funsizedcrow]

funniest thing that ever happened when we were playing botw was my sister was playing and she had made it up to the top of the tower in hyrule field (the one surrounded by guardians) and was looking down at the guardians through a slot in the like railing and i was like "you should shoot the guardian" because i thought they were out of range and so she shot the guardian in the eye with an arrow and it came alive and immediately hit link with a laser and link instantly died ragdolled and fell through the slot and miphas grace activated and my sister immediately teleported away while mipha was still doing her thing. and i was just laughing so hard.

[nightly-ruse]

I just had a dream so worrying I forced myself awake and I’m just scrolling through my phone to try not and drift back into it

[joelsgoldrush]

“never is a promise” | 12.4k

old man!logan x f!reader

SUMMARY: You are everything Logan isn’t: sweet, trouble-free, much younger—and, to top it off, Charles' caregiver.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni smut 18+ mentions of drinking. angst. some fluff. old man!logan x caregiver!reader. implied age gap (reader’s in her twenties). miscommunication. slow burn. pining. reader is shorter than logan and has long hair. charles in his cupid era. petnames. minor injuries. wound tending. mentions of blood. virgin!reader. dirty talk. cum shots. fingering. handjobs. oral sex (m receiving). loving sex. sex with a lot of feelings (is that a tag?). unprotected p in v.

A/N: i just want to fall in love with him. that’s it. that’s the reason why i wrote this long ass fic 😭 while doing so, i had “never is a promise” by fiona apple and “cool about it” by boygenius on repeat. give them a try if you haven’t listened to them (your lives will be CHANGED) (also, thank you for reading <3)

No matter how often you play chess with Charles, you never manage to beat him. 

“You’ve been staring at that knight for five minutes. It’s not going anywhere, I promise.”

Chuckling at his sarcasm, you fold your hands in your lap, lifting your eyebrows in mock surrender. “Okay, I get it. You’re the master of chess,” leaning back in the chair, you cross one leg over the other. “Can we play something else?”

“I’m quite entertained, thank you,” Charles says, sliding the board closer to you across the table. “Your turn.”

“How is it that you don’t get tired of this game?” you mutter under your breath, eyes fixed on the board as you weigh your options, hovering your hand indecisively over the chess pieces. 

“Please do something before I’m forced to make a dash for the toilet.” He hangs his head, pinching the bridge of his nose—a telltale sign of one of his irritable days.

His words spur you into action, encouraging you to finally slide the knight into position. You glance up, meeting his gaze with a hint of challenge. “You go now.”

Charles doesn’t hesitate, and he moves a bishop. “Check.”

Fuck. You hadn’t seen that coming. “I’d prefer to walk away with my pride,” you joke, pushing your chair back and pretending to lose interest in the board.

That makes him smirk, a barely there grin dangling on the corners of his wrinkled lips. The truth is, you wouldn’t stop playing for anything in the world—not even if this old man kicks your ass every single time he suggests playing chess. “You’re not out of the game yet.”

Quietness settles over the tank while you allow yourself some time to come up with a new strategy. After a moment, you decide to go for a pawn, using it to block his bishop.

He doesn’t stop grinning, studying your move with an amused glint in his blue eyes. “Not bad, but you’ve left your king exposed.”

You gape at the board, your fragile confidence faltering for a split second. "I still have some pieces in play."

Charles nods, his brows drawing together in thoughtful consideration. "True. But sometimes, it’s not about how many pieces you have left—” He reaches out, carefully sliding his queen across the board. "It’s about where you place them.” He relaxes, hunching over, his eyes searching for yours. A smile that’s all teeth welcomes you. “Checkmate."

“Damn.” You blow out your cheeks, your gaze tracing the path of his queen. Somehow, he’s trapped your king with no easy way out.

He leans back with a satisfied grin. “That’s three games in a row. My suggestion is that you start rethinking your strategy.”

“Or maybe you’re just a better player,” you admit, a mix of frustration and admiration palpable in your tone. “No more chess for today, though.” You stand up from your seat, gathering the board and chess pieces. As usual, they find their place under Charles’ bed, and you turn back to him, beaming with delight. “I think you owe me one after all this.”

“You’re a terrible loser, my dear,” he says, his eyes twinkling as they take you in. “Reminds me of someone I know.”

At that exact moment, you hear the familiar creak of the tank’s door opening, followed by a cough you immediately recognize.

Without thinking, you straighten your back as Logan steps into the room. Charles notices it, but says nothing in return.

It was an infatuation—or at least, that’s what you try to convince yourself of. Logan is a very good-looking man, probably the most handsome you’ve ever laid eyes on.

The fact that you live with him doesn’t help at all. You think that if you only saw him occasionally, this—this anxiety that grips you whenever he’s around or when you hear his voice—wouldn’t happen in the first place.

Whether it’s good or bad luck, you’ve been sleeping under the same roof as him for over a year, and the crush you’ve had since the first time you exchanged words with him only seems to grow stronger with each passing day.

What you figure out over time is that men like Logan aren’t the dating type. He’s never brought anyone home, and for that, you’re secretly grateful. The last thing you need is to see him with another woman—thank you very much. Still, the thought gnaws at you: he could easily be meeting someone elsewhere.

In fact, it’s more than likely that he’s hooking up with other people. It doesn’t have to be at—

Alright. You don’t need this either.

Logan’s heavy footsteps resonate even louder, his presence more imposing, and he seems especially pissed off. Then again, he always has that demeanor—angry, grumpy, locked in a constant battle with life.

But today… today, you haven’t seen him this troubled in weeks.

“Look who’s joined us,” Charles mumbles, steering his motorized chair to meet him halfway. The chair bumps against Logan’s legs with a thud that sounds almost cartoonish, and Charles scrunches up his nose, his nostrils flaring in disgust. “You smell like shit.”

“Yeah, I missed you too, Pop,” Logan grunts, shoving his hand into the pocket of his suit, searching for something. That’s when you notice the bloodstains on his shirt, smeared across his chest, and the missing buttons at the top. Your breath catches in your throat, and you bite your tongue to keep from asking any foolish questions. “They gave me new ones,” he mutters, looking you in the eye as he tosses the pill bottle at you.

You leap forward to catch it mid-air, your heart skipping a beat. Logan holds your gaze for a moment longer, his expression unreadable, before giving a slight nod and turning on his heel to storm out of the tank.

When your attention goes back to Charles, you see how his eyes remain locked on the pills you’re holding, his head lowering in defeat. “He’s waiting for me to die.”

“Don’t say that.” You squat to be at his eye level, momentarily hiding the meds from his view. Still, you struggle to make him shift his gaze. “He’s taking care of you, which is something completely different.” You place your hand on top of his knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze. You’ve had this same conversation innumerable times, yet each time feels like the first. He offers you a melancholic but knowing look as you softly say: “You have to take them, Charles. I’m sorry.”

He raises a hand, his trembling fingers curling around your wrist, examining you, trying to find an answer in the lines. “Don’t be. At least you’re here.”

“I’m sure Logan’s tired; that’s why he doesn’t stay any longer. Haven’t you seen him?” You rise to your feet, moving behind him to guide his chair. The tank sort of has a chill in the air, metallic walls that seem to press in around you both. “Besides, you wouldn’t want to play chess with him. Rest assured I’ll always let you win,” you murmur next to his ear, succeeding in eliciting a chuckle from him.

After that, you help him with his daily routine. Charles isn’t heavy, and you manage to get him onto the bed, his frail body yielding to your gentle support.

You slip the rest of his body beneath the blankets, tucking him in carefully before handing him two pills and a glass of water. “All the way down, okay? And I wanna see that tongue after you swallow them.”

If looks could kill, you’d be six feet under, covered in dust and dirt. Charles sticks his tongue out, putting the glass down on his nightstand. “Happy?”

“You’ve got no idea how much,” you say, adjusting the covers. The silence of the tank surrounds you both, and you can sense his gaze lingering on you. You flick your eyes up, furrowing your brows as you sit in the small space beside him on the mattress. “What is it?”

“You fancy him, don’t you?”

Freezing on the spot, your eyes narrow. “I—I don’t—” you trail off, pushing the words out with some effort. “Are you trying to read my mind?”

His whole chest rumbles with laughter under your touch. He finds your hand once again, intertwining your fingers with his. “Don’t be so naïve. I don’t need my abilities to see the way you get all flustered when he passes by. Why do you think they say older people are wiser?” he inquires, his lips forming a straight line. “We’ve lived too much not to notice the most common things, my dear—and let me tell you that you do a horrible job at pretending.”

“Of course I like him. Logan’s a good man, he keeps us safe.” You glance down at your hands—his, weak and delicate, in evident contrast to your own. “I’m not in love with him, Cupid.”

“Oh, you should’ve seen him years ago,” Charles says, his eyes glazing over as he drifts back into the past. His body remains here, within the confines of the room, but his mind is elsewhere, somewhere far away. You give his hand a gentle tug, trying to bring him back. “When we took him in, he was pursuing a career as a cage fighter. I had never seen anyone like him in all my years of educating mutants. He was so… different from the rest. Reserved, didn’t talk much at first. But I gave him a family, I—” His voice falters, overcome by his own emotions. 

That’s when you realize he’s no longer with you, his gaze unfocused, looking around the tank as if seeing it for the first time. It pains you to see him like this, completely disoriented and disconnected from reality.

“Why are we here? What has happened to the rest? Has he told you anything?”

These are the questions he asks every day without fail—questions that you can’t, nor want, to answer. Since you’re not exactly sure the explanation would soothe his troubled mind, you feel forced to play dumb.

“I don’t know, Charles. We don’t really talk that much, Logan and I.” You stand from the bed, not without pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead before. You smile at him, hoping he doesn’t realize the gesture lacks authenticity. “Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll let you know if I hear anything worth sharing.”

Once you close the door behind you, you settle back into it, releasing a shaky breath. Being Charles’ caregiver was a challenging task, especially in moments like these, which required immense internal strength not to crumble in front of him.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you adjust to the harsh sunlight, fighting to regain your composure. When you finally scan the area, the only thing that meets your eye is the deserted smelting plant you now call home.

You open the sliding door, the noise breaking the stillness and forcing Logan to look up from his plate. He’s eating like a starved man, casually drinking from a small bottle of whisky on the table, already half of it gone. After those long drives through the nights and the early hours, he always returns hungry.

You pour yourself a cup of coffee, setting it on the stove to heat. Neither of you says anything for a few minutes: he eats, and you sip your hot coffee in silence, not wishing to disturb the breakable peace that hangs by a thread.

Thinking this is how the noon will continue, you begin to walk toward your room until he clears his throat, stopping you in your tracks. That simple gesture makes you whirl around, anticipating something.

“This is delicious,” he acknowledges, pointing to his plate with his fork, the rice with veggies and meat you cooked last night nearly gone. Dipping his chin, he adds in a low voice: “Thank you.”

You’re taken aback by his unexpected willingness to engage in conversation. Moments like these are as rare as seeing Halley’s Comet, so you proceed with caution, as if you’re approaching a skittish animal—one wrong move, and the opportunity is lost.

Setting your mug down on the table, you sit on the chair opposite him. Deep down, the hammering of your heart echoes in your ears, and you hope his sharp senses don’t pick up on it.

“I’m glad you liked it. Charles ate two bowls of it,” you explain, unable to suppress a smile. Logan hums, tilting his head to the side as he keeps devouring his meal. You take another sip of your coffee, blowing on it in a futile attempt to cool it down. “He wants to talk to you.”

“Huh?”

“Charles. He—he asks to see you a lot,” you begin, carefully choosing your words. “I know it’s none of my business, but I think it would make him feel better if you spent more time with him.”

The sound of a distant train rumbles through the walls, amplifying the silence between you. Logan doesn’t utter a word; instead, he puts down his fork, the clinking noise making you jump slightly, the intensity of his stare becoming overwhelming.

“You’re right about one thing—what I do or don’t do is none of your goddamn business.”

Just like that, the buildup dissolves in a matter of seconds. You bite down on the inside of your cheek, nodding absentmindedly. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, feeling a wave of shame wash over you. How stupid were you to think he might want to talk to you?  “I just—I want to be of help.”

“Just take care of Charles. That’s all you gotta worry about, all I’ve ever asked you to do,” he barks, clenching his jaw, and you can tell he means each word.

When he talks to you in this tone, it makes you think more rationally—it reminds you that you don’t really know him, and yet you agreed to work for him in exchange for a roof over your head and food on your plate. He’s not your friend, and he’s excellent at making that crystal clear every time you cross the line.

Logan pushes you away like you’re nothing, like you’re just another of the many burdens he has to deal with.

It should be enough to send you running to your room, but despite the knot tightening in your belly, you somehow remain rooted in place, your eyes sharp like daggers.

As another train echoes in the silence, you come to terms with the knowledge that one more question will drive him away.

And sometimes, you speak before you think, as you do now: “Whose blood is that on your shirt?” you ask, voice steady and cold. Perhaps it’s you who wants him to leave this time.

He shakes his head with offense, frustration crinkling his eyes. “I don’t need this shit,” he groans, his gruff voice loud enough for you to hear it. He gets up from the table, placing his plate in the sink without much delicacy. At last, he heads to his room, slamming the door with a deafening thud that reverberates through the entire place.

It’s not a crush, that voice deep inside you insists as you’re left alone in the kitchen. And it’s valid: a mere crush wouldn't cause this kind of pain, wouldn’t make your chest feel this heavy and your limbs numb.

Whenever he leaves, he takes a part of you with him, never to be returned. By now, you’re certain he’s stolen all those missing pieces from you, and you’ve got no idea how much longer you can endure before you shatter completely.

You seem to have won this battle, but what you end up losing is far greater than any fleeting gratification.

Loving Logan is maddening, to say the least.

To this day, you still recall every detail of the night that altered the course of your life—the night you met Logan.

The memories are rather vivid in your mind, and you revisit that moment on nights like these, when you can’t sleep and the past appears to be much more appealing than your present.

Pressing your cheek against the cold pillow, you let your eyelids drop, reconstructing the full scene behind your sealed eyes.

It was your third week working at that restaurant, and you were still getting used to its daily rhythm. Waitressing was working wonders for you—you had a good memory, and people often gave you generous tips.

Everything was going well: you were the only waitress on shift, and your boss had left for a brief errand, promising he would be back soon.

During this lull, a group of men entered the restaurant, already drunk or high—probably both. They sat at one of the empty tables, immediately calling for you.

One of them, a tall blonde, was the loudest. “Come here, baby.” He pointed his finger at you, gesturing for you to approach him. The nickname felt wrong rolling off his tongue, and as you obliged, he shoved a handful of bills into the front pocket of your apron. He clutched your waist, dragging you nearer. “I’m getting married tomorrow. Think you can do something special for me?”

His friends cheered him on, laughing and pounding their fists on the table. You managed to slip from his grasp and asked them what they wanted to order.

While they took their time deciding, you noticed a limousine parked in the distance, probably the vehicle that had brought these morons here. The driver rolled down his window, hanging his arm from the armrest.

Though you couldn’t see his features, the interaction alone was enough to make you look away.

An hour went by, and the men refused to take off. They’d eaten, drunk, and danced—and driven you crazy in the process. The rest of the customers had decided to leave once they realized the night was far from finishing for the noisy group of friends. You apologized, feeling incapable of doing anything to change the situation.

Your sanity felt threatened as you turned off the TV, ending the sixth round of karaoke, their shouts and hoots ringing in your ears.

“We’re closing in ten minutes,” you informed them, starting to collect their dirty plates and glasses. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted the blonde man standing right beside you, his piercing blue eyes burning holes through your skin. He attempted to graze your shoulder, but you quickly stepped back, keeping a safe distance between you. “How do you plan to pay? Cash or credit?”

“How about with a kiss, huh?” He inched forward, his face dangerously close to yours. Unaccustomed to being approached in this manner, you ducked your head, unsure of your next move. His breath reeked of beer and vodka, a horrendous combination that had you nearly gagging on the spot.

As he backed you against the counter, one of his large hands cradled your face, urging you to make eye contact with him. “I swear I can be very, very nice. You haven’t given me the chance to show it yet.”

“Hey, pal. You said one hour.”

The first time you heard his voice—low and husky, the kind that could send shivers down your spine.

Your eyes locked with Logan’s, your pleading gaze seemingly stirring something in him as he got a grip on the situation. His brows bumped together in a scowl, and you didn’t miss how he limped as he made his way into the restaurant.

There was something about him—how he moved, his stance—that felt strangely familiar.

“We’re busy in here, chauffeur,” the blue-eyed man protested, slightly losing his balance while still holding your cheek.

Your rescuer squared off against him, their noses practically brushing. He worked his jaw, his half-lidded, tired eyes taking in the sight of you. “I’m no fortune-teller, but I don’t think she’s into you, bub.”

“Come again?” the blonde guy released you, much more concerned with defending his bruised pride. “What’s the matter, Grandpa? Is it past your bedtime?”

“I want you to pay me for the ride, and for waiting a fucking hour and a half for you and your friends,” the older man spat, jerking his thumb toward the limousine. “I’m not taking you back to the hotel. You might want to start looking’ for another driver.”

The group of men closed in around him, their anger bubbling. “That’s not cool, dude. We had a deal,” another voice snapped, but Logan couldn’t seem to care less.

“Well, the deal’s off. And leave the girl alone, will you?” he retorted, his tone dripping with disdain. “So, where’s my money?”

He couldn’t have predicted it. One of the men behind him swung a plate, striking him in the nape and catching him off guard. Logan collapsed to the floor, clutching his head in pain. The others took the opportunity and began to pummel him, kicks and punches landing wherever they could.

You screamed at the top of your lungs, desperately trying to intervene. You grabbed at their clothes, digging your fingernails into every patch of exposed skin you could find, but they shoved you aside with brutal force. Your back slammed against the nearest wall, a jolt of sudden pain making you wince.

The blood in your veins turned to ice as you watched, paralyzed with fear that they might kill him. But then—

Three metallic claws emerged from his knuckles, and he used them to push himself upright. Despite the blood smeared across his nose and mouth, he managed to stand, his quickened breathing coming out in short puffs.

The men backed away in shock, leaving him alone amidst the chaos. 

You stared at him, your hands trembling as recognition dawned: it was The Wolverine.

The familiarity, the sense of having seen him before, all made sense now. It all flooded back in a rush—the comics, the news, the rumors.

“Get the hell outta my sight,” he growled, pressing his claws against the fabric of the blue-eyed man’s jacket, making him flinch.

You couldn’t make out what you were feeling. It wasn’t fear, but intrigue. Even as the group of men fled the restaurant, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. At first, he avoided your gaze, focusing on his shoes as he retracted his claws.

Once the immediate danger had passed, he slumped forward, groaning. You gently draped one of his arms around your shoulders and helped him into a nearby chair. His weight felt like a thousand bricks, but you accomplished to get him seated.

He rubbed a shaky hand over his graying beard, his face twisting in pain as you pressed a makeshift towel of napkins against his lower lip, where blood continued to flow.

Taking the towel from you, he continued tending to himself. You scanned his features, scrutinizing him.

“You are…” you began, the words feeling inadequate at the moment.

Logan nodded hesitantly, his silence confirming your suspicion. “Yeah, that’s me,” he tugged at his shirt collar, exposing some of his chest hair, fresh blood staining his work clothes. Your gaze fell there, and you quickly chided yourself.

The poor guy was bleeding, and you were checking him out. Jeez.

Kneeling by his side, you introduced yourself. “Thank you for stepping up for me,” you said afterward, and he shook his head dismissively. “They were a pain in the ass. I don’t know how you even managed to drive them here.”

“Money’s money, darlin’. Doesn’t matter where it comes from, as long as—” he was interrupted by a coughing fit, and your concern deepened as you continued to spot more of his injuries. “I’ll heal,” he reassured you, his expression softening in an attempt to calm your anxiety.

Your eyes pierced his with an intensity that seemed to unsettle him. Warmth crept into your cheeks as a question surfaced in your mind: “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“You don’t owe me anything, kid,” he replied, a hint of gruffness in his voice.

“But I could help you,” you persisted, your voice betraying a touch of eagerness. Stifling a cough, you tried to mask your enthusiasm, and sighed. “Are you hungry? I could cook you something, or pour you a drink. We’ve got plenty of liquor—”

Logan interrupted you, placing the towel down on the table. “Have you ever taken care of an old person?” 

Tilting your head, you considered his question. “How old?”

“Ninety-somethin’.”

You nodded, memories of the events from years ago surfacing. “I lived with my grandparents for most of my life. When they fell ill, I spent a lot of time with them. My mom had to work long hours, and I—well, the point is, I did take care of them,” you paused for an instant, his expression unreadable, though you perceived a slight relaxation in his posture, as if your answer had put him at ease. “I like being around old people. They have stories to tell,” you added, a genuine smile breaking through, “and I’m a good listener.”

“Then I suppose there is somethin’ you can help me with.”

And so began a new chapter in your life.

The very next day, you were moving in with him and Charles. It took several weeks for the latter to warm up to you and get used to your presence.

Initially, he was hopeful that you might also be a mutant, but his disappointment was palpable when he discovered you lacked any supernatural gifts. Leaving that aside, he valued your company.

“The shots mellow the seizures. The pills keep them from happening,” Logan had once explained, detailing the medications Charles needed. You recalled the psychic attack from a year ago and its consequences, but that wasn’t a topic to be discussed with Logan, and you understood why.

“Where do you get these?” you asked, examining the bottle of pills with a curious glance. “Without a prescription, I mean.”

“Oh, you don’t wanna know.”

Soon, you got adapted to the whole package: his unpredictable temperament, his mood swings, and his nightmares. Logan Howlett was a puzzle box of surprises, one you could never quite unlock.

Fast forward to the present day, you realize it must be already late, because Logan’s heading to work. You stand on your tiptoes, peering out of your bedroom window. Your humid breath fogs the glass as his eyes find yours, and then he slips into the vehicle, blending into the shadows of the night.

The distant rumble of his limousine signals his departure, your forehead pressed against the glass, as if somehow that could take you with him.

There goes another piece of you.

You find yourself shaving Charles the moment worry takes over your senses.

He’s retelling a familiar story: that one time Logan, Scott, Jean, and Storm saved Rogue from Magneto.

On any other day, you wouldn��t mind listening to his stories, despite having heard them countless times. This one in particular is your favorite.

But today, it’s hard to focus on it, even more when one of its main characters is missing in action.

Logan hasn’t come back home yet.

It’s been an entire day, and he’s usually back by morning to rest. Now, after having cooked dinner and helping Charles shower, you’ve run out of distractions. There’s nothing left to occupy your thoughts, nothing to ease the building anxiety gnawing at you.

You texted him multiple times—no answer. You even called—also nothing. Every time Charles asks if Logan’s at work or sleeping, the knot in your chest tightens. That’s when your mind starts to spiral, and you’re convinced you’ll burst any moment.

After putting him to bed, you pace the kitchen, picking at your nails and biting the raw skin around them. The sting of pain is there, but it’s faint, not enough to overshadow the real fear clawing at your insides.

All these what-ifs that storm through your mind make you feel nauseous: what if he’s dead? What would you do with Charles? How would you provide for both of you without a salary?

Just as you’re about to dial his number again, Logan materializes out of thin air through the sliding door.

He’s got a dark bruise under his right eye, and his once-white shirt is littered with bloodstains. You stare at him—he’s limping harder than usual, each of his movements slower.

Walking towards him, your hands cup his face. His skin feels rough beneath your fingers, and he lets out a grunt as you graze his split lip. “What happened?”

“They were followin’ me. Had been doin’ so for a few days now,” he says, making no effort to pull away.

“Did you kill them?” you wonder out loud, still inspecting his injuries. The pad of your thumb hovers inches away from his bruised mouth.

Covering your hands with his, Logan ducks his head, closing his eyes for a brief second and swallowing thickly. “Somebody had to do it, sweetheart.”

You limit yourself to a nod, because you know there’s nothing you can reproach him for. You were no stranger to the idea of him killing. It was an implicit truth between you.

“I thought—I was so scared, and I—” your voice wavers, and you feel your eyes watering, the tears prickling at the corners. “I thought you—”

He doesn’t let you finish, already knowing how it would end. “Hey, look at me,” he’s the one touching you now, tilting your chin up. Your eyes keep flickering over the cuts and old scars you spot on his cheeks, his neck. Logan forces a pained smile, unable to hide his discomfort. “It’s fine, I’m alright. Just a bit fucked up, but nothin’ you haven’t seen before,” he jokes, trying to lighten the mood, and it works. You bite your lower lip, suppressing your grin. “I always come back, don’t I?”

“But you can barely stand,” you whisper, not sure why you’re speaking so softly. You make him turn his back to you, helping him shrug off his coat. As expected, remnants of dried blood decorate his shirt like highlights. “Let me help you.” 

“I don’t—”

”There are cuts all over your back. And your chest—you’re not healing properly,” you say, turning him to face you again. The look on his face suggests only one thing: he’s about to throw in the towel. “You don’t have to do everything on your own.” You think you’ve never been this close before, his proximity both intoxicating and comforting at the same time. “Please.”

He ends up giving in to your persuasion, allowing you to guide him to the bathroom. Logan sits down on the toilet, watching you gather supplies to clean his wounds. When you come back, he’s still staring at you, his eyelashes fluttering together each time he blinks.

Starting with his cheek, you press a damp towel to his skin, and he hisses. It takes everything in you not to flinch in sympathy.

“How’s Charles?” he asks, probably trying to distract himself as you continue to clean his wounds, the towel darkening with his blood over time. 

“He’s doing great. Asked for you a lot, actually,” you take a look at his jaw, where one shallow cut is already starting to fade away thanks to his healing ability, something that never fails to amaze you.

Logan hums, tilting his head. ”I’ll check on him in the morning,” he murmurs, and you flash him a quick smile, finishing with his face. He’s now free of dirt and blood, his brows furrowing as he pauses to collect his thoughts. “The other day, when we talked—”

You cut him off, turning to the sink as you rinse the towel, watching the water get red. “Forget it.”

“No, it wasn’t okay—how I acted,” he stands up from the toilet, and you feel his presence behind you, the alarm inside your head going off as the space between you shrinks. “I know you just want what’s best for him. For us. I’m sorry I was a jerk,” his voice comes out even huskier at this time of the night, sounding afraid of waking someone, even though it’s just the two of you here.

“Apology accepted,” you swirl around to meet his gaze, only to find yourself nose-to-nose with him, and you lean back against the sink, your spine pressed into the cool surface.

Logan places his hands on both sides of the vanity, caging you with his body. Like the most beautiful tree, he stands tall in front of you, and you take a deep breath, getting drunk on his distinctive scent. “Are you… okay?”

You watch as he lowers his head, pursing his lips before muttering: “Imma need you to do something more for me,” he says, almost pleading, and you can’t avoid the amount of thoughts that rush into your mind.

Gone was your decency when you had to deal with him.

That’s when he looks up to find your eyes, his harsh expression evolving into a more vulnerable one. “Have you ever removed a bullet?”

If you thought listening to Logan’s nightmares was painful, nothing could have prepared you for the sounds he makes while you pull several bullets from his wounds. 

He sits shirtless in front of you, grunting at each of your careful movements. As you remove one bullet lodged near his ribs, Logan practically yells, and you rest your cheek against his, desperate to ease his suffering.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Almost done,” you whisper into his ear, hoping your words might bring him some relief. He lets his head fall forward, resting it on your shoulder, trusting you enough to tend to his injuries, his thoughts drifting elsewhere.

It takes you half an hour to clean both his chest and back, but Logan doesn’t complain. When you’re finished, he goes straight to his room, flopping onto his bed, the mattress creaking under his weight. You see the way his chest rises and falls rapidly, his breathing still labored.

You wish you could lie beside him, even just for a few minutes, but your last shred of self-control stops you from doing such a thing.

“Get some sleep,” you say leaning against the doorframe, your advice sounding more like a plea. He looks exhausted, dark circles sunken beneath his eyes. 

Logan lets out a bitter laugh. “Do I look that bad?”

You roll your eyes at that, your fingers curling around the doorknob. Glancing back at him over your shoulder, you catch something in his look—a glimmer of something you struggle to put into words, but you decide not to look further into it. “Good night, Logan.”

“Good night, darlin’—and thank you,” he murmurs, holding your gaze until the door shuts between you.

Then you sprint to your room, gently closing the door before biting back a smile, replaying the last hour in your mind. How close to you he had been, how comfortable he seemed around you.

You hadn’t just crossed lines—you’d broken them. You almost pinch yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

Somehow, your racing mind calms down, and you fall asleep, one hand tucked beneath the pillow, the other resting against your chest.

You’re a light sleeper. The sound of something shattering wakes you, leaving you startled and disoriented.

Dawn is just breaking, the first rays of sunlight slipping through your window. You sit up, pricking up your ears as you scratch the back of your head, listening attentively.

Logan’s voice filters into your room—he lets out a string of profanities, and you stifle a giggle, throwing off your covers and putting on a sweatshirt that matches your pajamas.

Barefoot, you walk down the hall, stopping at the kitchen’s entrance. Logan is kneeling beside the table, gathering the shards of a broken mug. It seems like he’s just gotten out of the shower, tiny droplets of water trailing down his neck.

“That was my favorite one,” you say in a low voice, teasing him. His back muscles flex under the material of his shirt, and he turns to look at you, his expression a silent apology. “I take it you’re not using your glasses?”

“I’m gonna stop you right there.” Rising to his feet, he grunts, digging his fingers into his lower back with a grimace. “They’re called readers for a reason.”

You decide to let him have that one, grabbing a new mug from the shelf and handing it to him. He accepts it, thanking you, and fills it with freshly brewed coffee.

“Was it a nightmare?” you ask, watching as he sinks into the couch, spreading his thighs apart with a sigh while you take a seat at the table instead.

Logan gives a nod, sipping some of his coffee. “At least I slept for a few hours.” 

“Are you really going to stay up? It’s pretty early.” You stretch your arms over your head, a yawn escaping you before you can hold it back.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

You hesitate for a moment, but then comes your question: “Can I join you?” You prop your elbows on your knees, any trace of sleepiness now gone with the wind.

He squints his eyes, his unrelenting stare boring into you. “Feel free.”

So here you are, studying him as he drinks his coffee, his fingers wrapped tightly around the ceramic. There are so many things you want to ask him—about how he’s feeling, if his wounds have healed—but it seems you’ve entered a silent staring contest without even knowing it.

Not that you mind him looking at you—you just want to know the reason why.

You snort, and he arches a brow. “Do I have something on my face?” You decide to ask him, straightening your back.

“I guess I can’t help but wonder why you agreed to all of this,” he says, setting the mug down with a soft clink. By this, you understand he’s referring to being Charles’ caregiver and leaving your old job behind. “I mean—you could be doing better things with your life. Why would you choose to do this?”

“I told you before: I wanted to help you,” you shrug, trying to keep your tone light even as your stomach tightens with nerves. You watch as Logan folds his arms, the muscles of his biceps becoming more visible. “Plus, I love being around Charles.

“I don’t think people your age would be that interested in spending their days like this,” he says, and you toy with a lock of your hair, wrapping it around your finger.

“Well, good thing I’m not like most people my age then.”

His silence hangs heavy in the air until he speaks again. “What do you mean by that?”

“You know that feeling when life seems like a race? And you just have to keep up with certain things that everybody else is doing, or you’ll be left behind?” You pause, the words falling more naturally than you’d expected.

Logan nods, making it seem like he understands what you’re trying to say. Whether he truly does it or not, you don’t know.

“When my friends started going to parties, getting boyfriends… I couldn’t. My family wouldn’t let me. And even when I could, it felt like it wasn’t really what I wanted.”

Inhaling sharply, you stop yourself. The conversation suddenly feels far too personal.

“You never had a boyfriend?” He gets more comfortable on the couch, his voice gruff as he rubs his chin, waiting for a reply.

A familiar heat settles between your legs. “I went out with some guys, but it never led to anything serious,” you say, your cheeks getting warmer the more details you share with him. “I guess I wasn’t the kind of girl they were looking for,” you add, not missing the way his lips twitch momentarily.

“How could they not want you?”

“They didn’t think like you do.”

“That’s because they were boys, not men,” he mutters, his gaze dropping to your hands before returning to your face. “Did they treat you right, those boys?”

Swallowing hard, you can hardly register the uncertainty in your own voice. “I mean… yes, I think they did. They were nice to me.”

There it is—the faintest hint of a smirk dancing on his lips. “Nice doesn’t mean good, though.”

You dig your nails onto the table, your pulse quickening, trying to hide how affected you are by his words. “What is it that you want to know?”

“Come sit with me, doll.”

Doll. Doll. Doll. Inside your chest, your heart gallops, your legs trembling as you get off the table, moving closer to him.

Feeling lighter with every step you take, you plop down beside him, and Logan sits straighter, his knees almost bumping into yours.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him—this is happening, just like in your filthiest dreams.

His hand slides up to yours, not applying any sort of pressure. He scrutinizes your skin, bringing your hand to his lips, and he presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist.

It tickles, it burns—it ignites a fire inside you, one you know you can’t ignore. A gasp attempts to escape you, but you suppress it.

“Did you let them touch you?” he whispers, attaching his mouth to your neck, brushing the sensitive spot where your jaw and ear meet.

This time, you moan, any possible rational thoughts turning into putty, melting with the way he’s touching you. “Logan,” you purr his name, begging for something, anything he’s willing to give you. Your thighs, once shoved together, spread of their own accord, and you hear him click his tongue.

“I asked you something.” His teeth graze your pulse point, forcing you to close your eyes.

“I didn’t. They wanted to, but I—I wouldn’t let them,” you answer, and as if he’s rewarding you, his fingers begin to tug on the hem of your sweatshirt, rolling it up your body and over your head. He tosses it to the floor, admiring you.

“Why?”

Goddamn.

“Because I was waiting for the right guy,” you manage to get out, grasping his hand and positioning it on top of your right breast, encouraging him to go on with what he had started. His pupils widen further, and he squeezes your tit roughly, eliciting a moan from you. “I think I’ve found him.”

Logan scans your face, searching for any sign of repentance in your expression. “I’m going to hell for this,” he murmurs under his breath, his hard-on noticeable through his tented sweatpants. “Lay down.” You obey his command, easing yourself onto the couch, and sinking into the cushions as he presses himself to your side.

He peppers your neck with kisses, playing with the waistband of your shorts. “I’m not gonna kiss you, but I’ll make you feel good. Just this time, ‘kay? And we don’t talk about it.”

You accept his offer, knowing that you’ll probably regret it in a couple of hours. Right now, it doesn’t matter. You need his electrifying touch, his fingers, his—

With a swift motion, your shorts are yanked down your legs, and his calloused hands part your thighs even wider. A damp spot on your underwear sells you out, and his thumb rubs gentle circles over that area, causing you to lift your hips.

“So this is what you look like when you touch yourself, huh?” He edges his fingers closer to your clit, his breath tickling your ear, and he dips his tongue into your collarbone. “I hear you all the fuckin’ time. You’re not as quiet as you think.”

It should embarrass you, the fact that he has listened to you pleasuring yourself. But in a moment like this, it only succeeds in fuelling your desire. “Please. You said you’d make me feel good.”

“And I will, but you’re greedy as hell,” he says, his movements more deliberate now. You feel hot all over as he pulls your panties to the side, exposing your glistening cunt.

Logan’s on the verge of drooling all over you, reaching for your folds and spreading your wetness. “Men aren’t strong creatures, honey. You’ve got no idea how hard it is to hold back.”

“D-don’t hold back,” you stutter, losing your composure when he returns to your clit, his fingers coated in your arousal while they flick your swollen bud. “Oh, Logan…”

“You make the prettiest sounds,” he rasps, mouthing at your jaw, though as you try to kiss him, he slows his pace. “What’s wrong? Am I not giving you enough?”

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” you whisper, fascinated by how big his fingers look in comparison to your pussy. “I’m just—”

“Needy, I know,” he finishes for you, and he picks up his merciless rhythm again. Heat pools in your lower abdomen, and you can’t help but arch your back every time he teases you, grazing your entrance with his middle finger. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

You dig your nails into his arm, relishing the way his body responds to your touch. He grinds his cock against your hip, his teeth nipping at the column of your neck. “I want to come. Please, make me come,” you sob, letting out a shaky breath.

A thin sheen of sweat covers your forehead, and Logan locks eyes with you after what feels like an eternity. “Please, Lo.”

The nickname snaps something inside of him. His fingers circle your clit with a fervency you hadn’t experienced before, your pleasure seemingly being his primary focus. “The shit I’d do for you.”

You warn him, telling him you’re close—so so so close—until the fire in your belly flares, and blood rushes to your ears. You collapse against him, holding his hand firmly against your core, hips jerking as you ride your orgasm.

The world narrows down to this—this moment, your most desired fantasy.

Logan holds you as you go limp in his arms, rubbing your clit ever so slightly, murmuring soft praises. “Y’did so good, sweetheart,” he whispers, planting a kiss on your temple, burying his nose in your hair. You’re still out of breath, the pulsing between your parted legs persisting long after your release. “Told you you weren’t quiet.”

A giggle bubbles up from your chest, his beard tickling you as he slides his hands up under your shirt, finding your nipples.

“It was n-nice,” you tell him, your voice faltering the more he toys with your hardened peaks. Your skin heats up again, heart racing at the thought that he isn’t done with you yet.

“Just nice?” One of his hands makes its way back into your pussy, ghosting his fingers over your hole, and he smirks when he feels you squirm. “You surely know how to hurt a man’s pride.”

“I wasn’t—I didn’t mean to—” You can’t structure a proper sentence, not when he’s playing with you like this.

Logan rubs your arousal between his fingers, as though he wants you to see how slick you still are, even after coming. “Are you going to touch me again?”

He hums, feigning uncertainty. “What do you think, baby? Should I make you come with my fingers now?”

It’s like a switch flips in your mind. He knows exactly how to make you beg and which buttons to push, using that power to his advantage. “Yes, please. I want it,” you plead, intending to buck your hips into his touch, impatient for more.

“Do you fuck yourself with your fingers?” 

“Sometimes, but I can never finish—Oh my God.” He slips one finger inside you, causing you to curse, your voice barely above a whisper. You clench around the intrusion, your head falling back onto the cushions. “Fuck me.”

“In a minute.” He begins to thrust his finger in and out, gathering your juices every time he goes back to hammering that sweet spot in your interior. Soon, one finger becomes two, and he reduces you to a panting mess.

Tears threaten to swell in your eyes, and you whine as he involves his other hand in the matter, furiously rubbing your clit. “Your fingers feel much better than m-mine, Lo.”

“I can tell.” He curls them just right, and you push back against his thrusts, tilting your pelvis to meet him halfway. “There you go. Take what you need, sweetheart. I’m right here, I’ve got you.”

Everything feels frenzied, fast, the way your inner walls spam and contract around his fingers as you chase your second climax.

Once you come down from your high, your blurred vision catches him tugging the waistband of his sweatpants down. His cock springs free, and he fists himself, stroking his length angrily.

You watch as some pre-cum dribbles from the head, and you lean forward, watching it closely.

“You look goddamn beautiful when you come, darlin’,” he murmurs through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched tight. Hovering over you, he rucks your shirt up until he can see your tits from above. He alternates between your breasts, squeezing them while he continues to stroke his girth. “Want to see these all dirty.”

Logan truly loses it when your hand reaches out to him, tracing a bulging vein near the head of his cock. You meet his lustful gaze, batting your lashes, and then you feel his come splashing against your bare chest, a choked moan escaping Logan’s throat, spurts of his hot seed landing on your skin.

“Fuckin’ hell… fuck,” he grunts, still tugging at his cock, enamored with the masterpiece he’s created. When it’s finally over, he lies beside you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You run your fingers through his hair, and he nuzzles further into your touch with a groan. “I’m too old for this.”

Minutes pass as both of you seem to grasp the gravity of what has just happened. Eventually, Logan rises to his feet, disappearing for a brief moment before coming back with a towel to wipe his come off your stomach and chest.

He’s gentle with you, his gaze trained on his task until his eyes flick up to meet yours. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says, pulling your shorts back up.

“Like what?” 

“Like you want to see right through me.” He adjusts your shirt to cover your body again, but the towel remains in his hand, a reminder of the previous events.

I’m not gonna kiss you, but I’ll make you feel good. Just this time, ‘kay? And we don’t talk about it.

You don’t have to talk about it. You definitely don’t. 

Two days later, he’s the one who comes looking for you.

You’re nearly asleep when he knocks on your door. “Come in,” you mumble, a bit of drool having dampened your pillow. You dry your mouth with the back of your hand, your back turned to the door.

He steps into your room cautiously, as if navigating a minefield. The mattress dips under his weight. “Were you sleeping?” he asks, caressing your leg over the covers. 

You shift onto your back, your body responding before your mind. There’s no blood on his clothes—that makes you feel a bit better, and you shake your head.

“Good.” He looms closer, fumbling with his belt. His thumb applies little pressure to your lower lip, and your mouth parts to let him in, salivating.

This is just like Pavlov’s dog experiment—except that Logan isn’t an experimenter, and you aren’t a dog.

Yet, when he approaches you like this, you can’t help but respond, settling into a routine where you both take take take from each other.

Logan doesn’t fuck you, even when you beg him to. He gets you off with his fingers, his thigh, his mouth—but his cock remains out of the equation. 

“Just the tip,” you plead, voice laced with pure need, when he’s got his face nestled between your legs. 

As he stops eating you out, his beard shiny with your arousal, he’s still got that angry look on his face. Your cries don’t get to him.

“That lie’s older than me.” He slips his fingers back inside you, aiming to make you drop the subject. “Come on, baby. Gotta get ready for work, but you need to come first.”

Nor does he stay the night after telling you you’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen in his life. Just when you think he’s fallen asleep, his legs intertwined with yours and one of his large hands under your head, you drift off.

By the time morning comes, he’s gone. You just know that when night falls, he’ll be back for more, drawn to you like a moth to a flame.

Despite all that, Logan won’t kiss you. He keeps his promise, and you hate how determined he is. 

“Not even once?” you ask him one night while going over the scars on his back. You’re in his bed this time, and he has his nose buried in his pillow, moments away from dozing off. 

“No,” he answers, squirming slightly under your touch. “I’m tired. Stop doing that.”

“How did you get this one?” You trace one scar that’s close to his shoulder, resting your chin just inches from it.

He turns his face to see your eyes. “Well, I was doing Pilates, and I—Hey!” He laughs when you pinch the skin near his ribs, tickling him. “I don’t even remember. Must’ve got it a long time ago.”

“Did it hurt?” It’s a dumb question, but he doesn’t mention it.

His index finger grazes your cheek, and he chuckles at the way your eyelids flutter. “In the past, they all did. But not anymore,” he replies, though you wish you could believe him.

You know he’s in pain most days. That when he goes down on you, and he’s on his knees for too long, he has trouble standing up without cursing. That no amount of alcohol, or his healing ability, helps him with it.

You kiss each of his scars before curling against his side, brushing your nose against his. “And now?” Your eyes fall to his lips, silently hoping he’ll say Yes.

Instead, he sighs. “I think we should go to sleep.”

So despite the lack of kisses, the miscommunication, and the fact that he won’t fuck you even though you know—you feel—he wants to, things are good between you.

Charles notices it, openly expressing his recent realization. “He looks happier, doesn’t he?” he asks says after winning two games of chess in a row, startling you. 

“Logan, you mean?”

“Yes, my dear.”

You glance down at the board, fidgeting with the pieces. “I guess so.”

“You guess so?” he parrots your previous words, raising an eyebrow in doubt. “Look at me,” he says, and as you do it, he points a shaky finger toward your neck. “I assume mosquitos have taken a liking to you.”

Heat rises to your cheeks, your hand flying up to cover the hickey you had completely forgotten about in the first place. “Charles, I’m—“

“Are you happy?” he interrupts you, and you nod, because you are. 

A nagging thought lingers at the back of your mind. You don’t know if you’re asking for too much, but it still feels like something’s missing.

One morning, you accidentally overhear a conversation between them. The door of the tank is ajar, and right before you step inside, you recognize Logan’s voice in the distance.

“Charles, I’m fine, alright? I don’t need your advice.”

There’s a pause before Charles responds. “You know, Logan… this is what life looks like. You should take a moment and feel it. You still have time.”

Logan doesn’t say anything in response to that. And if he does, you don’t stick around long enough find out, because you’re already turning on your heel.

A poet once said: “Blowjobs are fucking amazing.”

Actually, you might be wrong. Those may not have been a poet’s words, but your best friend Keira’s from high school.

You remember the sleepovers at her place—she had a boyfriend at the time, a boy she had met at a party you hadn’t been invited to. 

“Welcome to blowjobs 101,” she had declared one night, holding a hairbrush like a microphone. “Don’t worry, sweetie. I’ll tell you everything you need to know when the moment comes.”

Luckily, many years later, that moment arrived.

Just ten minutes ago, you were cooking dinner, sniffling back tears while chopping onions, so lost in thought that you didn’t realize Logan was already home.

He tossed his keys onto the table, hugging you from behind seconds later. You leaned back against his chest, enjoying the scratch of his beard against your sensitive skin, his lips planting soft kisses wherever they could.

“How was work?” you dropped the knife, wiping your tears as you turned to face him, throwing your arms around his neck. Logan pulled you in tighter by the waist, giving your ass a firm squeeze.

“Hell, as usual,” he looked into your eyes, finding them all glossy. “You miss me so much you started crying?”

Of course, you didn’t talk about it—but words aren’t the only ones who can convey meaning.

You’re not sure how, but one thing led to another, and now you’re on your knees, Logan’s cock filling your mouth. Your lips, swollen and red, suck hard at his tip, pulling the foreskin back, and his hips jerk deeper into your throat. “That’s it, fuck. Doin’ so good.”

Your movements are far from graceful. As a matter of fact, it’s all too sloppy and desperate. Saliva drips down your chin, some of it coating his balls, and you fondle them at the same time you bob your head.

Keira’s advice plays on repeat in your mind, and you pull out every trick you know to make Logan roll his eyes.

So far, you think you’re doing pretty great, judging by the way he’s gripping the back of your head.

“H-how is this your first time suckin’ cock?” he slurs, more to himself, his voice strangled as you make eye contact with him. He brushes your hair out of your face, bewitched by the sight of him disappearing into your wet mouth. “God, I fuckin’ love you.”

Taken aback by his sudden confession. you involuntarily gag around him. He pulls you off his cock, not even sparing you a glance, tucking himself back into his briefs. “Wait, Logan—”

“Not now,” he mutters abruptly, withdrawing into his bedroom and shutting the door behind him.

God, I fuckin’ love you.

God, I fuckin’ love you.

God, I fuckin’ love you.

But still, he doesn’t want to talk about it.

How bad is it to tell somebody you love them and then avoid them?

Yeah, it’s absolutely terrible, right? Tell that to the idiot himself—Logan Howlett.

It’s been over a week, and no matter how many times you press him for an explanation, he keeps dodging it.

Things go back to how they were before you two started fooling around, and Charles’ questions don’t take long to come: “I thought you two were getting somewhere.”

“Me too,” you admit, your voice quieter as you try to appear indifferent.

You have no answer for him. Not that you don’t want to discuss your relationship problems—it’s just that you don’t know what went wrong.

When evading you isn’t enough, he works longer hours, which only adds to how little you see him. At least he lets you know if he’s going to be late, sparing you from waiting up.

But apart from that, your interactions have dwindled to nothing, and it’s eating you alive.

You’re madly in love with him. You thought you knew that already, but now that he’s distant, the depth of your feelings has become clearer than ever.

He’s everywhere you go, just not physically—he has conquered your mind.

And it should be funny, loving someone who used to be no more than a myth for you. Though Logan is real—maybe too real for your own good—and he hasn’t been the mutant you once read about for quite some time.

This morning, he’s having breakfast at the table when you walk into the kitchen. You hold your breath as your shoulders brush for a microsecond, his gaze following your steps.

You’re no longer accustomed to sharing the same space with him, so it makes sense that you stay as far away as possible.

After an awkward silence, he stands up and mutters something about checking on Charles and giving him his meds, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

It’s infuriating, how collected he seems. Why isn’t he miserable like you? Doesn’t he miss you? Didn’t you two have something… special?

I’m not gonna kiss you, but I’ll make you feel good. Just this time, ‘kay? And we don’t talk about it.

The shit I’d for you.

God, I fuckin’ love you.

Not now.

The memory of his words lingers, seared into your unconscious, though the sound of his phone jolts you out of your thoughts.

It’s ringing beside the coffee machine, and you try to ignore it, determined to be the bigger person.

But after five minutes of the relentless ringtone echoing in the empty kitchen, you’ve had enough.

Unknown caller—interesting. What could he possibly be hiding?

Charles, you better keep that asshole busy, you think to yourself, swiping right to answer the call.

Before you can say anything, a woman’s voice fills the line.

“James! Thank God. It’s Gillian. You didn’t reply to any of my texts, and I was starting to get worried,” she lets out a giggle, the sound grating against your nerves.

As your grip on the phone tightens, your knuckles start to go white.

“Look, I know you said you weren’t available, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that ride. I didn’t see any ring on your finger, so what do you say, huh? Will you let me take you out?”

Red. You’re seeing red.

“James? Hello? Cat got your tongue?”

At last, you clear your throat. “Hey,” you greet her, pacing around the kitchen. “I’m deeply sorry, but James can’t talk right now.”

“Excuse me?” she snaps, her high-pitched voice echoing through the speakers, and you pull the device away from your ear. “This is James’ number. Who the fuck are you?”

“Oh, I’ll tell you who the fuck I am, you intolerant piece of—”

Before you can finish, the phone is yanked out of your hand, the call hastily ending.

There is no use in playing dumb, not when Logan’s standing right in front of you, observing you like you’re a child who’s made a severe mistake.

His deep, brown eyes pierce your soul, shattering any chance you had of coming up with an excuse.

“What where you doing with my phone?” It’s the first thing he asks you, his voice still steady, the calm before the storm.

Perhaps you’re not as mature as you thought you were—your forehead furrows, unwilling to back down, and you fall silent. He takes a step forward, as if he can’t believe your attitude. “Think I asked you somethin’. Why did you answer?”

“Gillian sounds like a lovely lady. Tell her I said ‘Hi’ the next time you see her,” you croak, attempting to walk past him, but he doesn’t budge, his solid frame blocking your path. You collide with his chest, and it feels like trying to move a brick wall without success.

“We’re talking. You can’t just leave.”

The nerve of this man.

“You can’t be serious,” you retort, staring at him, wishing the emotion in your tone could capture even a fraction of what you’re truly feeling. “Weren’t you the one who walked away first? After telling me you loved me?”

You search for any sign of the man who once held you close, but he feels miles away, hidden under all these layers that smell like cheap whiskey and gasoline. “You didn’t mean it.”

“I did. I meant every word,” he growls, his fists clenching at his sides, and you don’t miss the exhaustion in his eyes, the dark circles that expose the fragile façade of control he’s so desperate to maintain. “Goddamit! You’re doing that thing again!”

“What thing?” you exclaim, your mouth hanging open in frustration. “What the fuck are you talking about? I’m not doing anything.”

“Yes, you are! You’re trying to see through me, like you can read my mind.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint, but I’m not a fucking mutant. I just have eyes, Logan.” You throw your arms up, exasperated. “People actually look at each other when they have a conversation, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“You’re testing my patience,” he mutters, rubbing a hand over his face.

“And you are testing mine.” You rest your back against the table, raising your chin. “So, who is she?”

Logan drops his shoulders, slamming his eyes shut. “I drove her once, last week. It was a long ride and she… wouldn’t stop talking. Didn’t shut up for a single second. She hit on me, but I told her I’m off the market.”

“Why? ‘Cause she talked too much?”

“No. Because I love you,” he says, pure awe transforming his expression, like he doesn’t believe he has said it out loud. “I don’t know when I started feeling like this, or if I’ve always felt it, but—I do. I love you.”

Oh.

You had heard those words slip through his lips before, but now they sound different. It might be that keeping him at arm's length has felt like death by a thousand cuts, or perhaps it’s the realization that this is the first time someone’s declaring their love for you.

Fuck. He loves you. As in, he’s in love with you?

“Then why do you keep running?” You edge closer to him, your eyes trained on his. “I’m done with the chase, Logan. It’s tiring—I am tired. I’ve been sleeping like shit, trying to figure out what—”

His arms surround your body, cutting you off and pulling you close. The hammering of his heart matches yours, and you return the hug, nuzzling your nose against his neck.

You fear that this might be all you’ve ever needed, feeling as if the pieces he took from you in the past are finally falling back into place.

Logan holds you as if in a past life he lost you, but now, he’s decided to never let you go.

This profound sense of completeness, of being where you’re meant to be, makes you realize you’ve found home in the warmth of his embrace.

“I’m sorry. This… this scares me, alright?” he murmurs next to your ear, raking his fingers through your hair. “You make me feel things I didn’t think I could feel anymore. That’s what I’m running from—the part of me I thought was gone. But you… you brought it back.”

You feel a deep urge to curl up and cry, wondering why on earth he would ever think he was unworthy of being cared for. “Logan, I…”

“I sound pathetic, I know. It sounded way better in my head.”

“Don’t you dare say that.” You retreat a bit, looking him in the eye. He stares down at you with a tenderness you’ve never seen before. “It’s not pathetic to voice how you feel. I want to know it all, want to know everything about you.”

“Everything?”

“Yes, everything. But I need you to promise me that you won’t run away anymore. I know it’s difficult, but it’s not fair to any of us.”

His eyes peer directly into yours, and he gives a nod. “I promise to do my best.” He presses your foreheads together, and that’s when his mouth turns into a grin. “You’re not going to say it back?” he teases, gripping your waist. “Come on, I said it first. Twice, for the record.”

Lifting your shoulders in a half-shrug, you find it hard to conceal your smile. “I may need a bit more convincing.”

Kiss me. Kiss me. Kiss me.

Before you know it, his lips are on yours, almost making you lose your balance. You whimper into his mouth, tightening your arms around his neck as his tongue wastes no time in finding yours, stroking it sensually.

The wait had been definitely worth it—you’d do everything all over again if it meant having him kiss you like this at the end of the day.

He tilts your face so that he can deepen the kiss, and a whine gets caught in your throat when his fingers pull gently at the hair at your nape, nibbling at your bottom lip. 

“I love you, too. Very much, to be honest,” you blurt out against his mouth, pleased with the way he laughs at your reaction, squeezing your hips. “But I still have some ideas in mind.”

“I’m all ears.”

Here goes nothing. “Fuck me like I’ve been asking you to.” You cup his cheek, guiding his lips into yours one more time. “Please,” you mewl, standing on your tiptoes. “Want you to be my first.”

If it were up to you, you would’ve begged him to take you right there on the kitchen floor. But Logan, ever the gentleman, insists on moving things to his room.

Each of his movements is slow, igniting your skin with a burning heat, leaving his name imprinted where his teeth sink into your soft flesh.

You’re left in nothing but your underwear by the time he murmurs: “Let me take my time with you.” He trails his lips down your chest, your stomach, until he’s planting several kisses along your ankle. “I don’t know how I got so lucky, baby. Look at you.”

Under his gaze, you feel shy, your eyes snapping to the ceiling instead. “Shut up,” you say, tugging at his shirt to undress him, your fingers tracing the lines of his abdomen before you pull him into a bruising kiss, sucking on his tongue.

He strips out of his black slacks and hovers over you, his clothed cock grinding against your throbbing core, eliciting a moan from both of you. “So goddamn beautiful. Can’t believe you’re mine.” His tip grazes your entrance through the fabric, making your toes curl in ectasy. “I’m gonna make you feel good, I swear.”

At first, he’s extremely careful, making sure to stretch you out with his fingers while you stroke him, pumping your fist to match his rhythm. “Keep that up and this’ll be over sooner than expected,” he warns, taking one of your nipples into his mouth.

It doesn’t happen like it does in the books or movies. No foreplay could’ve prepared you for the moment he enters you.

You move clumsily beneath him, your nose bumping into his forehead as he eases the first inch of his length inside.

For a moment, you’re not certain which hurts most: the dull ache in your nose or the way he’s splitting you open. 

Logan freezes, his eyes wide in concern. “Shit. I’m sorry, sweetheart. Are you okay?” His hand cradles your face as he props himself up on one forearm, pushing your hair back while you adjust to his size. You laugh despite the sting, and he wipes away your tears with his thumb. “You’re laughin’?”

“I’m just happy,” you manage to get through the lump in your throat, raking your nails down his back, feeling the rough texture of the scars beneath your fingers. “I love you. Since that day at the bar, I—” you pause for a second, gasping at the sudden wave of pleasure when he twitches inside you. “I’ll always l-love you. Forever.”

As you wrap your legs around his waist and tell him you’re ready, something inside him shifts.

He feels like a madman, his eyes fixed on your face the whole time, searching for any hint of discomfort, though he occasionally glances down at the place where your bodies meet and become one, entranced by the sight of you taking him in, slick coating his length. 

Your heels dig into his lower back, pulling him back to the present—back to you, with your pretty tits bouncing each time he pistols his hips, the intensity of his thrusts increasing.

“All those times you took care of me, when you—Fuck,” he groans, nipping at your jaw to regain some of his composure, his humid breath dampening your skin. Your scent drives him wild, and he reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “You made me feel loved when no one else did. My girl, love you so f-fucking much.”

His pace is nothing more than a voiceless testament to everything he feels but can’t find words to express.

With each minute that passes, your dripping cunt grips him tighter and tighter, his thrusts losing finesse. He needs you to come first—why does he feel like a virgin?

When you tell him you’re close, the world around him turns into a musical. You cling to the sheets, the mattress creaking noisily as he clutches the headboard, determined to find that angle that will push you over the edge.

“That’s it, sing for me,” Logan mutters from above, hypnotized by the crease forming between your brows. “Come on, let go.”

Time seems to slow down as your muscles tense and you clamp around him, your body sagging against him. His name spills from your lips in breathy whimpers, like an endless prayer, and your mouth engulfs his, tongues and teeth clashing in a fevered kiss.

Soon after that, he surrenders to the coiling tension deep within him, pulling out just in time to stroke himself once, twice, before emptying his hot load across your mound.

You gently thumb the head of his cock, coaxing out every last drop of his hot seed. He’s panting as he comes down from his high, his brain foggy and blissfully blank for a while. 

Logan loses track of how many times he tells you he loves you—he does it when he pulls you into his chest, when his lips press against your temple, and when you crack that smile, the one that resembles the very purpose of his existence.

“So this is what it feels like.” His voice sounds low like a murmur near your ear, and you stir, half-asleep.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing, baby. Just thinkin’ aloud.”

You don’t have to talk about it, at least not now. Deep down, he knows that whatever thoughts run through his mind will somehow find their way into yours.

This is what life looks like. You should take a moment and feel it. You still have time.

And God, is he feeling it.

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

[inmaki]

gojo showing off your back scratches to geto

( cont from this fic! req, visual ) .

contains: sex talk, desc of back scratches, crack, sugu is called daddy once (as a joke.. right..)

everything was relatively peaceful in suguru's apartment. key word: relatively.

a forgettable yet appreciated sunday afternoon, not a cloud in sight despite the weather forecast predicting downpours of rain. either way, the raven-haired man insouciantly rested across his white couch, reaching the conclusion that today would be a day for self-care, relaxing, and perhaps some meditation.

there was only one thing ruining his peace.

all morning, suguru has been forced to try and ignore the stain a certain someone has left on his couch — a pair of unecessarily expensive yet dirty shoes being the culprit.

despite these attempts, every once in a while his gaze can't help but wander over at the mark — as if it'd poof out of existence if he glared hard enough.

"fuckin' asshole.." he mutters. it was a wonder his relationship with his best friend managed to stay so promising despite all their differences, yet suguru wouldn't have it any other way, even after situations like this.

right when he grumpily turns back to the tv — which was playing some crappy, low budget rom-com — his apartment door is yanked open and suguru swears he nearly jumps out of his seat.

great, was this it? was he about to get robbed, perhaps evicted? and then probably die? forced into the afterlife knowing gojo's shoe-shit was still on his new couch? no that can't—

"i fucked her!"

suguru whips his head towards the apartment door, announcement being disregarded as he nearly groans in agony. speak of the devil.

big blue eyes peak out from under circular sunglasses, one hand already raised in preparation for a dap up while his stupid, big, dirty shoe pushes the door closed behind him. gojo wears a black compression shirt with grey sweats, marching over to his friend with a ginormous grin across his cheeks.

"take your shoes off, now," suguru snaps, nodding to his friend's feet with a frown.

"yeesh... whatever y'say, daddy," the bastard never loses his smile as his hands raise in surrender, kicking them off by the door smoothly. "what's got your panties in a twist?"

geto pinches his nose bridge. "don't call me that," as he continues the scolding, he points to the living room with his free hand. "you got a mystery stain on my couch, satoru. do you know how many youtube videos i watched trying to get this shit off?"

unphased, gojo takes a look at the strangely colored blob against the armrest's leather material and shrugs. "my bad. did you try febreeze?"

"what— no? dude, febreeze is for.." when suguru looks back up to sourly meet his gaze, he could immediately tell the white-haired man was already drifting back into la-la-land, words going in one ear and out the other. "..nevermind. why're you here?"

at the reminder, satoru seemingly brightens, head shooting back up as if he was just told he'd won the lottery.

"oh god, don't make that stupid face—" he pauses. "the fuck are you doing?" suguru might as well say goodbye to his self-care day, because now gojo was stripping in the middle of his living room, shirt thrown haphazardly onto the still-very-much-stained couch.

"just look!" suguru squints as his friend swivels around to face the wall, pushing his bangs away to get a better view of the— oh shit.

it takes the raven-haired man a second to process what he's seeing before shuffling forward, closely examining the achingly red, bulging scratch marks displayed sexily across the latter's back and shoulders. "no way.."

suguru knows the strongest sorcerer well enough to notice how he purposely didn't use reversed cursed technique on these scratches, just so it'd be obvious to anyone that caught a glimpse of what exactly occured. to his further dismay, he can already picture a smug and sweaty gojo walking around their local gym like this, proud simper on his pretty lips as he easily raises a pair of weights in his veiny hands.

a hiss escapes geto's mouth as he runs his finger down a particularly agitated one, knowing exactly how painful they could be after experiencing many hook-ups of his own. even so, satoru only licks his lips, neck craning to the side so he can pride himself in his friend's gobsmacked expression.

"damn, these are deep. you actually hit it?" suguru confirms, raising a celebratory hand.

turning back around, satoru daps him up, a massive smirk now on both their faces. "hell yeah, it was amazing."

it was impossible to predict what gojo would do next after barging through his front door — especially considering how many times he's done so — but this has to be the last thing suguru ever expected.

not that he was complaining — in fact, all of geto's temper and need for relaxation seemingly flew out the window, the feeling of proudness for his best friend overthrowing anything else.

and even if he hated to admit it, the way gojo was so eager to come over and announce his virginity loss to him was more than a little endearing, and dare he say cute.

"that's great, man. congrats." suguru leads him into the kitchen — still shamelessly shirtless — to grab them both a can of beer in celebration. while the white-haired man usually didn't get involved with any form of alcohol, this occasion was most definitely exception-worthy. "you made y/n cum too, right?"

an offended glare is shot his way. "duh, two times."

"huh. surprised you could last."

as suguru pours their drinks into two fragile cups, gojo exhales, not bothered in the slightest by his jab. "dude, same.." he admits dreamily. "she was so fuckin' tight and warm.. and oh— fuck, her moans? heavenly.. 'can't believe i didn't bust after the first minute.."

geto gulps, trying his best to ignore the mental image his brain was producing from his dirty words. you can't blame him — both of you were smoking hot, and he was a simple man.

even now, he could already imagine what you both looked like; panting and moaning, skin-slapping so loud that it echoed through the whole room, how blissed out you'd look as gojo's cock split you in t—

satoru's playful sigh cuts through the tensing air. "who knows sugs, maybe you'll have another kind of stain to worry about next time we're over~"

he's never snapped out of a daydream so quickly. "don't even joke about that."

over the next hour, the two men sat manspread on the stained couch, taking leisure sips while recalling satoru's final moments as a virgin — suguru giving out his secret tips and tricks along the way.

maybe sometime, suguru could offer some.. hands-on learning instead.

mlist! <- sugu.. how could u think abt ur bestie and his gf like that... tsk tsk tsk (if u enjoyed reblogs/comments r appreciated heheh)

© inmaki on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not cross-post, translate, copy in any way, etc.

[specsthesecond]

Being a waitress/bottle girl at a club that caters to monsters.

While serving a table of orcs their drinks you hear whistling from behind you and turn towards the table of werewolves calling you over,

"C'mere Doll, why don't you spend some time with us? It'd be better than looking at those ugly green faces."

The rest of the table barks out laughter and all you do is look back at the table of orcs to gauge their reactions, just incase you have to call the bouncer to stop another brawl.

"Aw yeah? Cus your slobbering snout's much more attractive, ain't it?"

One orc yells and the others hurl their chosen insults across the table as well. The werewolves grumble and snarl insults back and you just stand in the middle of this, trying to think of an escape.

"Maybe she ain't at your table for a reason!"

One of the orcs claims boldly and all the other orcs voice their agreement while the wolves clearly disagree.

"Why don't we let the lady decide." A wolf with greying fur suggests with a smirk and both tables seem to agree on this being just a wonderful idea.

"Well love? Who's better then? Us or the mutts?"

"Aye! The real question is who can treat her better, isn't that right, Doll?"

The attention of the two tables are now on you, waiting for your answer with baited breaths and half hard cocks probably.

"....I prefer minotaurs."

This deadpan response takes a few seconds to sink in before a chorus of disagreements and further arguing commences, but you're already making your way back towards the bar, you're sure they don't mind watching your tiny skirt bounce as you walk away.

That answer wasn't random, it's actually been the only thing you could think of all day. Your Minotaur coworkers cock reaching deep into your stomach while he pounds you into next week. That might be why so many customers have been extra forward with you today, maybe they can smell the need on you.

You finally make it back to the bar, getting ready to end your shift and finally get some relief.

"You causing trouble?"

You whip around to meet just the monster you were so desperate to see. He stands at the edge of the bar in his bouncer uniform, his sleeves hug his biceps very nicely and you nearly purr imagining what that arm would feel like around your throat, while he pounds you from behind. He gazes down at you with a knowing look.

"Me? Oh, I would never."

You look up at him and play with the collar of your shirt, successfully drawing his eyes to the generous amount of cleavage your uniform provides.

He huffs in amusement.

"They don't seem to think so."

He tilts his head and massive horns towards the two tables you just left where the occupants are all peering over one another to see the interaction between you and the bovine beast in front of you.

You scoff, take his arm and turn him around so that he's only focusing on you.

"I'm off. You're off in 15...maybe you could come by my place again....or something?"

You nervously bite your lip and he doesn't know why you're getting nervous.

You weren't nervous when you sent him that video of your stuffed cunt clenching around the Minotaur themed dildo you've had since before you were seeing eachother. You definitely weren't nervous when you sent him another video 6 hours ago of you stuffing said dildo into your perfect pussy in the employee bathrooms before slipping your tiny panties on over it, keeping the silicone deep in your cunt.

He pulls out his keys and leans down closer to you,

"Be ready when I get to the car."

You nearly squeal in excitement as you grab the keys and reach up to kiss his cheek. As you skip out the door to his car he looks back at the two tables just to revel a little in the disappointed grumbles and huffs emitting from the two groups as they go back to their drinks.

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