#i'm lonely and bored ya know

[omglaurashutup]

i don't know how to live life

[localsharkcryptid]

.

[cetoddle-archive]

i finished the girl who fell beneath the sea it was pretty good

[radioactive-cloud]

feminine urge to punch a hole in my chest and took out my heart and punch a hole in my head and took out my brain and throw them away so that i don't have to think and feel anymore

[dilf-docs]

Misery Reigns My Lonely Neon Nights

old man!logan x younger fem!reader

summary: logan should've said no. should've just drove the pretty waitress home. that's his job. hers is to serve his cup of coffee to the brim. so why is he riding you to his house?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (cause we have a small daddy kink going on here.. hence the blog name BUT I DO HAVE A GOOD DAD), smut, this reeks of corruption kink for no reason other than me being a virgin whore, like he gets stalker-ish for a second but its logan howlett so we forgive him<3 ya está viejito, brief mention of suicide, sub logan edging on praising kink (if u squint), no protection but u gotta put the hat on the cowboy to ride the horse alr, riding, breeding kink??? angst (the depressing vibes are there cause they follow my writing like a shadow ijbol)

word count: 6,102 words (at the v crack of dawn.. i think i've gone insane FR it's 02:07 am and my brain its eating itself like im gonna start seeing logan in the corner of my room)

side note: newbie here after reading so many fanfics on tumblr but never publishing my own!! its hugh's birthday (well, its past midnight so no more but still!!! it was a couple hours ago) so i figured i should give it a try today cause that man does things to me ESPECIALLY as old man logan i can't lie and say the thought of him fucking me good and slow hasn't crossed my mind too many times 😩 we love sad hot old people in here so naturally my inaguration fic had to be done by him. also, i'm tired of scrapping for votes, comments, and interactions on wattpad so please treat me well during our first:// it's me moving to tumblr it's me hi i'm the problem it's me. i'm a feedback whore so pls leave tons of those!! also, english isn't my first language so if i make a grammar mistake pls do not tell me bc i have no respect for this language ―it just makes me cringe less to write smut on a language that isn't mine lol<3 but if there's any other mistake yes pls do tell me thank u OKAY BYE i needa quit yapping ENJOY dilf town<3

So it started something like this.

It was another simple nightshift for Logan. The weather humid, uncomfortably sticking the fabric of his white button shirt onto his skin. Even with the windows down. Those nights that the driving dragged on for long, like those cigarettes that now made him cough more than relax. The roads felt too long; his eyes too heavy.

Nothing new. Just about what to expect: money short, clients and traffic equally annoying. But that was the problem; nothing was new anymore.

He'd just finish dropping a customer close by, and since the tiring feeling didn't seem to leave his body just yet, a coffee wouldn't hurt. As a matter of fact, the need for a boost to make it home makes him get out of the car and limp his way into the first place his tired vision sees.

The rim of his recently adquired reading glasses slips as he climbs the stairs into the decades old diner, the decoration outdated. He understands; he feels the same way.

Neon lights flash his face when he enters the place and sits in the farthest booth he can find. The air is impregnated in grease and cheap coffee, but he waits at least fifty minutes to order, giving his body some time to rest. In the meanwhile, he tries to distract himself with the newspaper resting on the table, but God knows his eyes are too tired and his mind drifts every two words.

He hopes he doesn't get kicked out, judging from the attentive look he's receiving by a waitress resting on the bar. She looks as bored and tired as he does.

Maybe that's why he chooses her, raising his hand with order in mind. A black coffee. The waitress slides from her position and takes some steps to where he sits.

Her voice is sweet when she introduces herself, and Logan finds himself asking her again what her name is, pretending he's half deaf just to listen to it again.

"It's y/n" you repeat, oh so sickeningly sweet, he might have to skip on asking for sugar.

"Y/n" he savours the name on his lips, trying the tender sound, his eyes darting to the name tag, like he's confirming it. Testing to see if the young woman in front of him is real. Maybe his eyes linger a little too long, and the tip of your ears start to heat. Its the way he examines every feature on your face, like memorizing it in a sense, that makes you squirm. But maybe, just maybe, it's the small―brief, peak he gives to your exposed cleavage, pushing itself against the tight fabric of your uniform what truly gets your heart beating fast.

He looks like what your parents would warn you to stay away and your friends would talk behind your back. Rugged in a way that screams heartbreak, rough around edges your kind nature wishes to soften. It's unresonable to feel this way about a client you just met, but his aloof demeanor peaks your interest, so different from your usual costumers and familiar faces that pop up at the diner.

"Can I order you, darling?" his voice comes out deep, almost passing as a grunt. Just what you imagined it to sound. Why he's acting as his past self so effortlessly, after closing himself off to the point of going by entire days without talking more than three words, is concerning. Why the cute waitress who looks at him with doe eyes, expectant to take his order, is making him break the promise he made to himself not to get attached again―just live by enough to make it to the sea and put a bullet in his head.

"Well, that's just about my job" you joke, feeling confident for no reason. "But you can't order me".

"A damn shame" he chuckles, the sound deep, rumbling on his chest. It's been so long since he's laughed like that: carefree, without that pressing weight on his chest, that despite the sinking notion, sometimes feels more like a hole carved where his heart is supposed to be.

"So..." you trail off, unsure where to proceed after that sound that jolted your entire system awake, "what will you take?"

The banter dies, and Logan is dissapointed when she scribbles the dark coffee on her pretty round letter and walks away. He doesn't miss the sway of her hips, and almost calls her back just to hear her voice again. But he stops himself, because it's getting pathetic.

When she returns with her order, he almost regrets the comeback of his enhaced senses, her honeyed perfume mixed with the bitter smell of the freshly brewed coffee, creating an intoxicating mix.

His lips burn when he sips it, but that doesn't stop him from emptying the cup. Again. And again. All in the name for asking for more coffee, a magnetic force pulling him to the ground, making him forget he's a 200 and something year old man begging like a starved man for at least a fraction of her attention. He feels unworthy of your warmth.

He feigns interest on the newspaper when you return again (he's been stuck on the same paragraph ever since he sat down), the pot in your hands. If you've noticed he's emptied the cups faster than a normal person, you don't ask questions. He's thankful, but can see the amusement and confusion laced across your pretty face.

"More?" you ask, but it's unnecesary. He only nods, and you miss the chatter.

The closeness it's a challenge itself, the uniform's neckline practically shoved down his nose while she fills the cup to the brim. He hears his own heartbeat, the sound averting his attention from another "brief" glance at the cleavage. Is it intentional? Is your goodwill and act? Are you this cruel, playing with an old touch starved man like that?

God knows it's been long since he's had a helping hand during his relief hours.

He can't help it; he's a man, after all. So he seizes the moment and steals a glance. But his eyes meet yours, the wary green clashing with the cozy chocolate. There's warmth on your eyes, and he's looking at your tits like an animal. He pulls away, ashamed. The shirt feels a bit suffocating, and there's sweat on his forehead again. Great, you'll think he's a perv.

"Excuse me" you say, leaving his table. Logan is afraid of having fucked it up for thinking with this dick and not with his head. You were messing too much with his head, and now he'll pay the price. Fair, he thinks, for a perverted old man trying to woo a girl younger and far more innocent than him.

There's benevolance on her smile and blood on his hands.

The whole situation is stupid.

But then he's thinking of excuses (like saying it's his failing eyesight's fault) and something close to an apology, as if he cares a little too much about what you think. And then you come back.

"I forgot to bring you a napkin" she lies, leaving the piece of paper in the middle of the table. You laugh, and Logan let's you because 1. He deserves it, and 2. It's a sound as saccharine as the smell the freshly heated pies emit on the table across him.

You leave before he can even open his mouth, so all he's left with is the napkin that seems to have something written on it. Pervert, he reads, on the same calligraphy you scribbled on your bloc. He can't help but laugh, even with your watchful look on him.

That's how it continued.

Even if he had other rides and more energy to drive, he kept coming to the decaying diner just to see you. Almost as if he was forgetting his desperate need for the money, the boat goal further and further.

"You've forgotten about me" complained Charles, although his tone lacked of bite. "But I'm not mad that you've had".

He'd go on, rambling about living life but Logan just laughed. Yet, maybe he was right. Didn't even need his powers to know it.

Now, you? you simply couldn't get enough of your favorite costumer. Of his late stays until you closed, sometimes not muttering more than necessary, yet his company, even if curt, proved to be what you needed to make it through work, giving you a legitimate reason to yearn the before tedious night shifts.

Despite this two month weird relationship, Logan is as a stranger to you as he was the first day, no matter how many times you've tried to get him to talk. In the end, all your conversation efforts feel more of a monologue than a chat.

He knows about your mom and your dad, one strict the other dead. He knows most of your friends names, what you're studying and what you wanted to. Your dreams and your hopes, your aspirations, failures, and some other things you'd never say to anyone else out loud. All and nothing. And he listens, sometimes asking questions, but never about himself. He never takes the lead.

So frustration from the Logan enigma pours into you, the puzzle pieces layed out over your mind, consuming your thoughts. So now you're stubbornly cleaning the same grease spot on a table you've already wipped before, and that, coincidentally, it's the booth in front of Logan, the permanent resident of your head during these past weeks. You might as well make him start paying rent by now, his power and hold over you ridiculous.

"It's not going anywhere. Take it easy" he mocks you.

There's a bit of annoyance when you reply back, although it's mostly superficial. "Don't know what you're talking about" comes out your dry response, earning a low chuckle from him.

"How about you sit for a moment?" he offers, ignoring your apathy. "You're almost done cleaning up".

If his ever changing attitude isn't enough, closing this night's shift is as tiring.

Logan doesn't expect you to obey, but now you're sitting across from him, and a voice in his head says you maybe feel sorry for this lunatic old man.

You're so close, he can see the eye bags and sorrow you are far tired to try to hide.

"I have to finish cleaning" you explain, "we're about to close".

He doesn't know why he says it, or what takes over him when he says:

"I could wait for you"

He surprises himself and surprises you too.

"No need" you assure, and why does he feel so dissapointed. It's stupid. "My friend picks me up".

Ah, yes. The friend with the perfect stupid smile that picks you up every night. Not like he parks his car until you leave and sees the scene unfold each time, his white knuckle grip on the wheel a bit too much when the young boy opens up your door. Makes him see red, knowing he's your age and maybe the breathe of fresh air you need. Not a man far older, who bears too many sins and scars in and out.

"I see" he says after some minutes in silence, retracting his impulsiveness. "I'm sorry if I made you-"

"No!" you clarify hastily, "it doesn't bother me".

He smiles unconsciously in relief.

"Well, me neither. I insist. If you change your mind" he's practically begging, despite his monotone tone.

But you don't.

The place closes and Logan is forced to get in the car. He lights a cigarette, in no hurry to return home. The lighter lights up while the diner's light goes off. You and your boss come out, biding each other goodbye. She leaves and you're is left alone, hugging your body in the early morning cold. 

He sees you wearing particular clothes, for the first time. He takes a slow drag on his cigarette, eyes running up and down your bare legs, the fragile fabric of the skirt fluttering in the wind. He exhales, watching as you dials your phone several times, getting no response, obviously frustrated.

He mutters something under his breath, and maybe there is a God after all. He starts the car, approaching her, who has already noticed it, probably because of the noise of the engine.

She looks scared, but Logan rolls down the window so she can see it's him.

"Need'a ride?"

Just by his reverberant sound you could accept. But you try to play cool for a while, despite your aching bones and need to get home.

"He doesn't answer" he was right, "my friend".

I know, he wishes to say, but he's the same hot headed asshole who walked through the doors of the X mansion for the first time, so his tone will be laced with irony. He doesn't want you to see him as an intense hot blooded mouth.

I could take you. His head pounds but he shuts the emotions down.

He shoves the knot on his throat down and asks as casually as possible, "do you live close?"

"Just around the corner" you answer. A beat, your frame bending so he can see your face from the driver's sit, the cleavage saying hello again. How considerate of you. "Do you really want to do this?"

Do you really want to do this?

The question rings on his ears. It holds more than just the favor. Logan knows they have a certain tension between them that he no longer wants to ignore. For the first time it seems to be reciprocated; palpable, and he is surprised to hear his heart beating loudly, so accustomed to hearing others' with his sharp senses, constantly forgetting what his own sounds like. Yours also beats erratically, despite your calm composure.

You arch an eyebrow, amused. "I can't believe you waited for me. Your family must be worried."

Logan realizes you're trying to test waters. So he raises his hand discreetly and places it on the door, so you can see the lack of a ring. As expected, your eyes travel to his free finger, and he can swear he sees you breathe with relief, which is funny, because in case you hadn't picked up until now, Logan is very much fucking alone.

"In case you changed your mind," he answers. "I have nowhere else to be."

That is enough of an invitation for you to get in the car.

"I was going to open that door for you" he protests.

You only laugh as you buckle the seatbelt. "It's not that big of a deal, really. You've already done enough for me by doing me the favor".

"It's not that big of a deal" he repeats your words, "as long as I'm of help, that's enough for me".

He smiles wistfully, remembering better times. A part of him still aspires to be that hero everyone loved and remembered, something that clearly doesn't happen anymore (or if it does, it's rare), given the lack of recognition of his former identity in El Paso. He shakes his head, focusing back on the street in front of him. It's too late to get fucking sentimental.

"I like to help too…" you confess, meekly. Logan sighs, how could he not know? "My father used to say that I had the kindest heart he'd ever met. I hope it stays that way, and that when he looks down on me, he's proud".

It hurts Logan to see you be so hard on yourself, as if he didn't do the same.

"I bet all the customers in the place would say you're the sweetest thing they've met", he sees you smile from the corner of his eye, and can't help but emulate it. "Believe me, you're their favorite".

"Thank you, Logan" you say sincerely. However, the affliction that he hates to see crosses your face. So gloomy that you don't even seem the same person.

You wipe away an unexpected tear, but Howlett is faster and notices. You turn around, looking towards the window. Then, you catch a glimpse of his license.

"So… you're a driver" you try to break the silence that Logan has put without knowing why. Maybe to give you some space after being sentimental and opening up again to this closed off wall name Logan, but he knows it's a lie. He's scared. After wanting so much to be closer to you, he cowers, not trusting himself and what he would do trapped in a small space with such an attractive woman. Besides, the tension from the previous conversation was still there.

"You judging me now, honey?" the pet name rolls off his tongue before he catches it. He tries to play it cool, continuing the banter, carrying the same tone. "The only thing necessary to make you trust me was to give you a free ride?

"I'm in your car, Logan. I got in without thinking" you laugh. "I believe that's enough trust"

"Then, I'll keep doing you favors. Maybe if I do…" he trails off.

Your voice drops an octave, provocative. "Maybe what?"

His knuckles grip the steering wheel until they turn white.

"Maybe…" he hesitates, "maybe…"

"It's here" you point out. Shit, Logan curses, braking abruptly without meaning to.

"See you tomorrow" you bid as a goodbye, getting out of the car. Logan misses your smell.

So he sticks his head out the window, like a begging dog.

"How about now?" he says a bit forcefully.

Your face shows surprise and something else.

"You're getting attached" you reply, and he doesn't know why there seems to be sadness in your voice.

"I just keep coming back for the coffee" he defends himself.

You laugh, shaking your head "Now, then. For the coffee, clearly."

"I can leave" he says. Yet, makes no move to leave.

You sigh, giving him one last look. Surrender, he reads.

"You're a driver, right?" he nods, taking in every word coming of your pink plush lips. "Then let's drive off. Anywhere" your voice trails off, and you're just so tired of everything, you'll just let go yourself with the flow. "I'll go wherever you go..."

And this is how it ends.

When you wake up, it's almost dawn.

Logan had suggested you to sleep, claming the road where he was taking you to be long. He had covered you with his jacket, even if your body was burning from nerves.

Why had you agreed? Your mom would probably smack your head in search for some sense, and your reckless friends would encourage you to do it for the sake of a story. But something about Logan makes you feel safe, despite not knowing anything from him. It's sort of a sense of protection―like he would never hurt you, that envelops him. Everyone else would call you crazy; only you can understand that.

When your eyes adjust to the light, you realize you're in a line of cars.

"Did you bring me to the border?" you exclaim groggily, still in a sleepy voice.

"Good morning" he answers instead.

You rub yoou eyes, settling into the passenger seat.

"You're not going to kidnap me, right?" you question, half joking half serious.

Logan laughs, "Not only that. I'm also going to throw your body in a mass grave"

"It's not funny," you pout, although you're laughing too.

Once you've crossed the border, Logan drives a few more minutes, until he reaches a restricted area.

“I live here” he answers before you can ask, “saves rent and questions”

After opening the locks, you can better appreciate the place. Well, appreciate may not be the right word.

“It's an abandoned smelting plant” you voice out loud.

Logan just nods. You realize that he didn't like the comment, so you try not to talk about it anymore.

“Come” he gets out of the car, going to open your door. He offers you a hand, and you fail to hide your smile.

“You didn't miss this time, huh? Quite a gentleman” you praise. Then, add jokingly, “if you choose to kill me, at least I'll die taken care of".

“Stop talking nonsense and go inside” he scolds but smiles.

Inside, the abandoned plant is exactly what you expected.

"We're alone" Logan says, after leaving to check. He opens the door to his room, letting you in. There's not much inside, just a bed and scattered things. A yellowish light begins to filter through the broken glass. "I'mma change. Be right back".

You begin to explore your surroundings, to avoid thinking about the impact of the situation. Two things could happen: leave or stay. Maybe everything was going too fast, but you prided yourself on your spontaneity, often confused with impulsiveness. Others would say it was your naive nature: too innocent for your own good.

What had led you to accept without further ado? Was trust enough, that you had even fallen asleep in his car?

"S'rry for the wait"

You notice that Logan's gotten rid of his formal attire, leaving him in just slacks and an old white tank top. His muscles flex with every movement, making you swallow involuntarily. He still retains his extraordinary physique, despite his greying hair. She can't help but stare at the scars that cover his exposed skin, her fingers itching to trace them.

"Haven't they told ya' t's rude to stare?"

You look away, embarrassed. Logan walks over to the bed, bumping into you in the process, bodies barely touching. Still, an electric shock runs through you. You hug yourself, scared, aware of the effect he has on you.

"Logan" she dares to ask, "what are we doing?"

He finally looks at you. You feel naked under his intense gaze.

"What do you want us to do?"

His voice comes out low, like a growl. You stand in place stiff, unable to form a word.

"Come on, honey", the nickname comes out of his lips so easily, it hurts. "Are ya losing your voice now? Got into my car a while ago without thinkin', what's changed?"

You slowly approach Logan, each stride calculated. He watches you in silence, a silence as hostile as the wind hitting the broken windows, watching you remove your clothes, until all that's left is your bra and that skimpy skirt, as if you knew he liked it.

"Logan…" you whisper his name like a prayer, letting yourself fall on his legs. He holds you with his hard calloused fingers, like a promise.

"Use your words, sweet thing" the trepidation condenses between, "we're grown up now, aren't we? Use your words"

Don't let me fall. Don't let me go. Don't leave me.

If by words he meant feeling your lips against his, it's enough to have Logan following his impulses, using his strength to embrace your body until they feel like one, the scars on his hands feeling like your own. Your lips move in sync, and it's almost so casual, so learned, so meant to be, that fear appears in Logan, soon forgotten with the symphony of moans that come from your lips.

"Tell me" he pauses, breaking away from the kiss (something you don't like and express in the form of a pout), "what do you want?"

Logan tastes like cigars and whiskey, a combination you hate and the reason you quit your old job at the bar, but on his lips, it's an intoxicating taste.

"I want you, Logan" you whisper, hot breath against his skin, “you”.

He resumes the kiss, an electric shock of hunger and need between you: lips parted, colliding, teeth almost clashing against each other.

His fingers hesitate with a delicacy that belies his rough touch, the tips of his worn fingers lifting the fragile cloth of your skirt first, revealing soaking wet panties he goes crazy just at the sight of. The smell is sugary, sicklingly, so now he's hard and pulling at the clasp of your bra first, exposing your nipples, which he rolls and pinches mercilessly. A gasp escapes you—then another, and another as Logan pushes his thigh between your legs. The friction is delicious, almost painful against your pulsing center.

His hand firm up his position, securing itself onyour bare legs as you digs her nails into him. His labored moans turn into a guttural growl.

“You think I’m not capable?” he mocks, stealing another moan from her, “that I can’t keep up with you, you pretty young thing?”

You deny it, but Logan takes it upon himself to show you that he can take you like he's in heat, the ghost of his old self taking over in his almost animal way of fucking you, hips arched, muscles flexed and tense, his teeth appearing every time he opens his mouth, reminding you of fangs. They dig into your exposed skin, leaving bruises that will take time to disappear from your shoulders and neck, marking what belongs to him.

The hardness of his skin meets your soft when he grabs you by the waist.

"Look at you" it slips from his tongue, ecstatic. He's a goner, saliva dripping from the messy and sloppy kisses he leaves through your collarbone, "so good and so pure. I bet you're innocent, that you haven't seen what I've seen..."

His pupils darken, a strange mix between torment and desire in his gaze. Hungry and violent.

"Will you let me show you how's a real man s'ppossed to treat a woman?"

He feels shame settle in his belly, the hunger to possess her almost virgin body fueling his dark desire of errasing her sweet smile until she's an unintelligible mess of sobs. To show her what she would complain about, so she'll never slettle for less. So you can feel what it's to be taken care of―handled. And then he'll fill you up with his seed, so no other man will take what's his. His sweet little thing. Oh, he's so going to hell for this.

But maybe he likes pain.

"That's it, honey" he plays with the fabric of your wet panties, pulling at the loose threads in the delicate fabric. "Let me show you".

You take it off, and Logan lies back against the bed, spreading his legs and unbuttoning his belt and pants―a clear invitation to repeat the previous position, except this time, his hands are on top of your hips, squeezing the soft skin. He doesn't take his eyes off you, his gaze reserved only on you. If the adrenaline from before pushed you, now the confidence gained motions you to finish the task. It's just the push you need, remembering that this is what it feels like to be with a real man as you throw a leg over his hips, sitting your ass right on top of the bulge marked on his underwear.

“Right… there…” he barely manages to formulate a coherent train of words, the years of lack of help in attending to his needs leading to overstimulation, “good girl.”

The compliment makes you increase the pace of your hips, his labored breaths a sound so rich and so manly it makes you squirm.

You need it desperately, rubbing your increasingly wet clit against him, riding the fabric. His scruffy beard barely hides the smug smile that graces his lips.

“Like this?” she whispers, and Logan can no longer contain himself, staring at his sweaty, ripped body failing to please her completely. It feels so good it aches, and he can't believe this is how he's ended. But if that means having your pretty face on top of him, covered in his marks, dripping on your joint sweats, well maybe it isn't so bad.

“How can I repay you, honey?” he pleads. He'll try he's best. He just wants to give you a glimpse of the way his whole world has light up ever since he stumbled in that greasy diner.

“You said you were going to show me” it comes out almost as a purr, expectant, “and I’m waiting”.

Logan takes it as his cue, pulling down his underwear until his member is exposed, chuckling darkly when you swallow at the sight.

"Don't tell me you're scared already" he teases, "look how you have me… you can't leave me like this…"

You stifle a scream as you feel every inch of his thick cock enter your sensible walls, trying to fit his member inside of your needy body.

"So tight for me" he stammers, using his hands to keep you in place, on top of him. The only sound in the silence of that place that smells of death is that of their skin colliding―vulgar, the obscenity highlighted by being the only thing that can be heard in the small room.

Even though his stamina has dropped over the years, he thrusts into you relentlessly. Logan fucks you senseless, his balls buried deep in your dripping pussy, a constant rhythm of avid suction with each entry to your walls.

He takes a moment to see you as you take something from the nighstand he doesn't remember putting there.

"Look what I found" you whisper in the middle of your moans. Logan recognizes the shine of metal in front of his eyes, "so Wolverine?"

You say it so easily, like it's not the first time. With acceptance; it scares him.

Do you recognize him? Are you not scared? Why haven't your eyes go from curiosity and kindness to cold and rejection?

He should panic, rip off his dog tags from your hands and pretend he doesn't know who he used to be, but he's so deep inside you and so enraptured, he can only manage to gently take them from between your fingers and put them around your neck, the cold metal against your warm, bare skin creating an electric shock.

"I want to see them on you"

He likes to watch it hang over his face while you're on top, panting heavily as she repeats his name, slurring her words. It dangles with every thrust, the silver glistens in the seeping sun, just like the sweat that adorns her skin.

"Are you that needy of your old man? " he teases, caressing her. He smacks the curve of his ass, “You want more?”

His veiny length makes quick work of your needy hole, more moans escaping your lips.

“Shit,” you curse, wincing at the pain that begins to increase. “Yes, Logan. Just like that. Nobody ever treated me like that, nobody's made me feel like this-”

He moans, pleased with the praise, seeing he isn't as lacking as he thought. Making you feel good is his priority, but he won't lie and say he doesn't want to feel it too.

In an attempt to distract yourself, your eyes try to focus on him: searching his features, memorizing every scar, every wrinkle, every little grey hair.

“You’re perfect, Logan,” you mumble through a moan, the confession hiding more than you want to say and more than he cares to admit.

Before he can process it though, the fire in his stomach signals the arrival of his impending orgasm.

There's something delightful about the way you can barely speak, a mess of moans that sound like his name, eyes half-lidded and lips swollen alongside your messy hair.

He feels almost sick to be consuming something that doesn't and shouldn't belong to him. He doesn't deserve to have such a beautiful, young woman riding him while she clings to him like he's the last thing in this world, him: a worn, old man who can't keep up with her.

His member spasms, and it's got you feeling it all inside your walls, causing him to close his eyes in the process as well.

It's too soon, Logan thinks in shame, but it's been so long and you feels so good, he let's it go:

Thick whips of his cum shoot out of his member, drawing out more than you would've imagined. You don't have much time to think about it, for the orgasm hits you immediately, fingers curling and eyes rolling to the back of your skull.

Logan feels his tip getting wetter, and the extra lubrication is a nice finishing touch.

“God,” he gasps, “what a mess…”

You avoid looking at him, taking one of his hands in yours, kissing the red and violet painted knuckles. If you do, you'll give away what you feel, the same way her memory burns in Logan's chest, more now than ever, as his mouth tastes just like you.

Dependency.

Devotion. Absolute. Sick.

Maybe that was what he felt. This weird feeling. That abyss piercing his chest but never killing him (so much for regenerating...), pressing his heart with a crushing force whenever it threathened to beat again. Logan was content with rather nothing, always a man who didn't ask for much, and since the death of his family―the X-men, less.

"You should go" he mutters in defeat, the shame washing over. Even if he'll miss your warmth, even if he doesn't want you to leave at all. "It's for your own good, y/n. Pretend you don't know me and turn around. Go away" he insists yet gets stuck on his words, "you're not stupid. Then you'll know it's good for you and you'll never speak to me again"

He looks at the ground, cowardly, because he wants your lust filled warm look to be the last memory he remembers. Not whatever look you're giving him now.

So Logan closes his eyes and counts to ten. When he opens them, you'll be gone. It'll be a dream, something too good to be true. Short lived, like every good thing in his life.

"Logan..." you calls his name. So softly it seems like a breath.

You're still here.

"Logan" you call again, more firmly.

"Logan" you don't give up, cupping with one hand his face gently, "look at me".

When he looks up, he comes across a heartbreaking vision. You cry, tears falling like waterfalls down your cheeks. But that's not the most devastating thing, no: it's the look in your eyes, as if you've shared his pain. As if you've had suffered the same things he had suffered; a twisted reflection of him.

"Of course I understand you" you take his hands, and Logan feels that same strange warmth he felt the first time when your hands brushed his with the diner's menu. "I've also lost people… people I loved. Don't you think it hurts me to see the world go on as if nothing happened? Everyone forgets, Logan. But I can't; there's not a day that goes by when I don't think about them"

For a moment, you stop crying, and the hidden internal turmoil he tried so hard to decipher finally makes sense.

"I don't know what you've been through either, but I can promise you, that I understand you more than you think…" it seems like you'll say something else, but you stop and say instead. "Think, Lo: would these people want to see you like this?"

"It's what I deserve" he murmurs barely, his voice constipated but without shedding a single tear.

"It's not what we want, Logan. Please" you sniff, pained "stop being so hard on yourself".

"I'm not who you think I am" he insists. You're still naked on his bed, and he feels dirty for having you like this. For taking you to his home and fucking you raw out of your innocence. "I'm not a good person."

"No, Logan" you seem hurt by that statement. You trace one of his most recent scars with a touch so compassionate, that he feels your fingertips burn, "you are a hero".

Your words were so sweet, so comforting. He wanted to sink into your lap, which smelled like flowers and tasted like safety. A home; a life that had been taken from him. He wanted to believe everything you said―feel who you believed he was. Not this pathetic, tired and apathetic version of himself, but the old version: the version that inspired respect, that despite his tough exterior, had a family he loved. Because he had a heart. Now he feels like he has no soul: no purpose, nothing.

But maybe you are the answer.

Before he can change his mind, you blurt out “can I stay?”

That morning, in that old bed that creaks under his weight, Logan discovers that feeling alive again isn't so bad.

[ombiblombi]

P.AI.nter is SUCH an interesting character to me... he's probably become one of my all time favorites, as I haven't fixated on a character this hard since since...TMC. It physically hurts to think about it in the best way possible-

That being said, I have SO MANY THOUGHTS to say about 'em... so I'm going to dump them here.

First and formost, it's so interesting that P.AI.nter has such a wide array of emotions when it comes to attacking and interacting with the Expendables. At first it's strange, like "WTF?? You're trying to kill me and you just yelled how I was boring, wdym you're sorry??" But... knowing his lore and backstory, it makes so much sense.

P.AI.nters creator was gunned down on accident by Urbanshade, which upon the discovery of P.AI.nter, then decided to trap him in a harddrive and make it mine whats essenically crypto at the Hadal Site- For years, it's stuck mining for the company unwillingly, unable to draw the lanscapes it loved. For fucks sake, P.AI.nter tried to FRY HIS CIRCUTS just to get out. He's desprate, miserable and lonely, and just wants to escape- Any way possible.

And so when Sebastian comes reeks his havoc on the site and finds it, P.AI.nter is incredibly trusting of him to get them both out. Maybe alittle too trusting, but whats he got left to loose? They've both been used by the company and want nothing more to leave, leave and never return. So when Sebastian connects it to the servers- to the Navi-Path & Turrets and tells him to stop the Expendables, P.AI.nter does.

However.

This is self preservation down here. P.AI.nter of course, is rightfully angry at times. I mean- The same company that killed it's creator before his very (nonexistant) eyes, trapped it down here, and even sucked the joy he has from creating art away is now actively getting in the way of the freedom he yearns for. But at the same time... this isn't something done that it entirely wants to be doing. Like I said. This is self preservation. And his actions, and even your deaths weigh heavy. Theres a voiceline, and its delievered so well- Of P.AI.nter pleading for the player to wake up and apologizing profusely if it kills you.

That line sparked this whole theory in the first place.

Your death, reminds it of his creator.

Isn't it ironic how it's now manning the very same weapon that killed the one who brought him sentience in the first place? That he's now the one at fault? Thats gotta be on the back of his mind each and every time it leads an expendable to their demise.

This isn't personal.

He doesn't know who you are.

But it still hurts.

It really annoys me when people in the community call P.AI.nter two faced, or god forbid, do the shitty thing of saying in a derogatory manner that he's bipolar or such as a "joke". Thats just disrespectful to both the character and folks who do have it. It's just plain rude. People do something similar for Sebastian, saying that oh, they're ruining his character by making him mean and snarky and whatnot. I know this happens in every fandom out there, and that this rant is fruitless, but... people need to understand that characters like P.AI.nter and Sebastian have reasons behind their actions and have existing trauma that if you take a moment to look at, you can go "Wowie! Thats a complex character! Everything makes so much sense now, like a puzzle peice I can see traces of in their character in almost every aspect!" Rather than doing awful things like I brought up at the start. But... I digress. I know this rant wont change much so. I hope y'all enjoyed my mini character analysis

Anyway this video has all of P.AI.nters voicelines if 'ya wanna go have a listen after this :] also I got plenty more thoughts about P.AI.nter and Sebastian if anyone wants to know!

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: I’m On Fire*

————————————————————————-

Summary: When Joe mistakenly leaves his JB9 iced-out chain while at an away game, you bless him with a little photoshoot while you're hours away in Cincinnati.

Warnings: Smut

Paring: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Just the Two of Us

————————————————————————-

*No specific date for this fic!*

(y/n’s pov)

Joe had just left the house for an away game, and due to some work-related stuff, I wasn't able to go with him.

The pouty expression he gave me when we were standing at the front door just a little bit ago made me want to climb into his bag. His lower lip sticking out was oddly convincing, along with his blue eyes.

“Joe, you know I can't go, baby.” - you

“Please… I want you to go with me.” - Joe whined

“I wish I could go too, but I can't, J.” - you

Joe whined once again, but this time, it made me roll my eyes. My annoyance didn't last long, though, as he hunched over and laid his head on my shoulder.

“I love you.” - Joe mumbled

His face being pressed into my neck made his words muffled, but it was oddly adorable.

“I love you too, but if you don't leave now, you're going to be late.” - you

I laughed when he stood up straight and groaned.

“I'm gonna be so lonely by myself in my hotel room tonight.” - Joe

“We can Facetime, goofball.” - you

“Not the same.” - Joe whined

“Okay, enough whining. Goodbye, Joe.” - you

Joe stared at me for a few seconds, trying to come up with a response that didn't show how annoyed he really was.

“Bye…” - Joe mumbled

I stood up on my tiptoes and pressed a kiss to Joe’s lips. When I pulled away, I giggled at the look of his flushed cheeks.

“Love you, sheisty.” - you

“Love you too.” - Joe grinned

——

Hours later, I was bored out of my mind, all alone in this big house.

I had cleaned almost the entire house, scrolled through Pinterest, made a dinner recipe I had pinned, and finished a show I had been binging - Fool Me Once.

There was pretty much nothing to do.

All I was doing right now was lying in bed, watching the ceiling fan turn, and feeling kinda sad when I got a whiff of Joe’s scent off of his pillow.

I missed him, and I saw him just hours ago.

That's what happens when your boyfriend turns into your best friend, I guess.

Joe’s game wasn't till tomorrow, but they'd probably just landed at their destination.

Maybe I should text him?

After thinking about it for a few minutes, I made up my mind and texted Joe.

hiiii

Ew, no. Sounds desperate.

What am I even talking about? I've been with this man for six years.

I had almost deleted my message, but Joe answered before I could.

HIIII! 😁

He's such a dork, I thought to myself with a giggle.

Wyd?

Nothinggg, hbu??

Do I tell the truth or make a lie to seem productive? In the end, I told the truth.

Missing you.

My heart warmed at Joe’s message back.

I miss you too. ☹️

Are you at your hotel yet?

It took Joe a few minutes to answer, but his reasoning was ironic.

Just got back from checking in actually. Imma head up to my room, take a shower, and then ft you.

Okay, I'll talk to you then! 🫶

Talk to ya then, I LOVE YOU! 🥰

I hearted his message and than sent the sentiment back.

Love you more, baby. 😘

The conversation ended after Joe’s simple but butterfly-inducing text.

Not fuckin’ possible.

——

We were on Facetime for way longer than we should have, but neither of us cared.

The call ended with the usual “I love you more” back-and-forth playful argument.

Joe won in the end, and I can't say I’m surprised because he always did.

After the call ended, I was just lying in bed, my head on Joe’s pillow, just to smell his scent.

I got bored eventually and decided to play around in the closet. Joe always forbade me from trying on his chains, but he wasn't here.

My eyes immediately widened with excitement as I opened the top drawer on Joe’s side of our walk-in closet.

Everything was cleared out except one chain, he probably took them all with him to have options for his fit tomorrow.

“Damn, this is heavy.” - you mumbled

It was the JB9 Nike check chain Joe wore for the AFC Championship in 2022.

One of my personal favorites out of his collection but too iconic to be worn again.

God, he looked so hot that day.

I stared at myself in the mirror, the chain of my boyfriend’s initials and number adorning my neck.

That's when I got the idea.

——

Settling into my bed for the night, I grabbed my phone and giggled to myself as I looked through the pictures recently taken in my camera roll.

Nothing but black lace and that iced-out chain.

——

Next Day

Joe won his game, and sure, I was happy to see him win, but being miles away from him and unable to celebrate with him put a damper on my mood.

I watched the game by myself in the living room, and then proudly watched his post-game conference.

Just a minute after Joe left the media room, I received a text from him.

Did you watch the game?

Of course. Watched your conference too, baby.

Joe didn’t answer for a few minutes, and I thought he might've gone to take his postgame shower, but his text back made me laugh.

I just got made fun of because I was blushing from your text. “You texting yo girl?”

What did you say back? 😂

I proudly said yes. 😁

A few seconds passed before another text vibrated my phone.

Hey, I gotta go shower, though. We're set to get home late tonight, so don't wait up on me.

What if I want to?

You'll wake up with me next to you in the morning either way, so no need to wait for me to get back.

He was right, so I left him alone to go shower.

——

It was around ten o'clock, and Joe had texted me just a little bit ago, saying they were on the bus to the airport.

Out of nowhere, with no context or caption with it, I sent Joe my little experiment earlier.

Attachment: 10 images

When I was left alone with Joe’s chain earlier, I took a little photo shoot with some black lace lingerie and Joe’s chain.

He'd usually take a power nap on his way to the plane, so I was surprised when his response was quick.

Joe sent a picture of himself with his eyes wide and mouth dropped open in shock.

The silly reaction picture made me giggle, but I had no idea that Joe had just pulled his bag onto his lap while on the bus in an attempt to hide the stirring between his legs.

Fucking shit, y/n. I'm getting so hard right now that I might have to rub one out on the plane.

No. 😘

Wdym, no?

How do I word this?

You always get pissed when I get off without you, how about a taste of your own medicine?

I don't get pissed…

Joe, honey.

Please, baby.

No.

Joe sighed and put his phone on his chest, discreetly slipping his hand down his sweatpants to rearrange the erection in his boxers. He's so hard just from the sight of nothing but lingerie and his initials in the form of diamonds on your body.

He so wished he was with you, inside you.

——

When Joe got home, it was really late.

You were already sleeping, so when Joe slipped into the bedroom he made sure to be quiet.

Joe stood there for a few seconds, just admiring how peaceful you looked while sleeping.

A small smile found its way onto his face when he noticed you were wearing his t-shirt and snuggled onto his pillow instead of yours.

After staring for a lot longer than he anticipated, Joe put his bag down and took his sweatshirt off before crawling into bed beside you.

You stirred for a bit, feeling the presence of someone else near you. After moving around for a bit, you were met with a hard chest, but you knew it all too well.

Joe grinned to himself when you snuggled into him, your face against his pec. He ran his fingers through your hair, and soon, you were peacefully sleeping again.

Feeling tired but unable to sleep, Joe discreetly grabbed his phone to see the messages he wasn't able to answer on the plane and his drive home.

You sent him a video?

Joe made sure his volume was down before pressing play on the video. His eyes went wide when he was met with the sight of you fingering yourself.

All at once, Joe’s heart rate picked up, he started sweating, and his cock stirred in his sweatpants.

He didn't need volume to know you were moaning his name with each thrust of your fingers. Joe was able to read your lips.

The sight of your head thrown back, bare chest, and your sweet heat swallowing your fingers had Joe fully erect in a matter of a minute.

He needed you badly.

Joe can admit he was thinking with his dick and not his brain when he shook you awake. In his defense, most of his blood supply was in the wrong head.

“Joey?” - you mumbled

“Shit- sorry I woke you up…” - Joe

“I missed you…” - you

His heart fluttered, and he hoped you wouldn't shift around and feel him. Please just go back to sleep.

In all honesty, Joe felt guilty waking you up with his sexual needs in mind. He felt horrible and selfish.

“Missed you too, baby.” - Joe

You moved around and Joe’s eyes went wide. Please don't feel it. Please don't feel it.

Abruptly, you paused your shifting and looked up at Joe’s face. Maybe she just found a comfortable spot?

It was hard to make out Joe’s features in the dark, but you could see his piercing blue eyes easily.

Unbeknownst to Joe, you'd felt his hard-on as soon as he got it, but you wanted to mess with him, make him beg for it.

Slowly, you reached your hand out and palmed his bulge. Joe bit his lower lip to stop an audible reaction as you started rubbing him.

“He missed me too, huh?” - you giggle

“Fuck- so much.” - Joe

“Take your pants off, Joe.” - You

Joe shed his pants and boxers off faster than the speed of light, all because his girl asked.

Now that he was completely free from restraint, Joe got even harder, and he didn't think that was possible.

You spit into your hand and firmly grasped his cock, a plan forming in your mind as you started to jerk him off.

Joe was a groaning mess, relishing in the feel of your hand around his length because he'd needed this for days.

Precum was beading at Joe’s tip, so you maneuvered yourself around to take him into your mouth.

“Sh-it.” - Joe moaned

He was close, so close.

“Baby- I'm gonna… cum!” - Joe

You pulled off of him, trying to follow your plan of edging him until he couldn't help but beg for you to finish him off, but Joe was too close to stop his inevitable orgasm.

With a loud moan, Joe shot his load onto your face, some making it into your mouth.

Both of you were surprised when it happened, looking at each other with wide eyes.

“I- I'm sorry…” - Joe

“No, don't be.” - you

You reached out and put a hand on his chest, rubbing comforting circles on it.

He grabbed a tissue off of his nightstand and wiped his cum off of your face.

“That was kinda embarrassing…” - Joe

“Why?” - you

Your voice was soft, a little sad yourself that Joe felt embarrassed.

“I don't know, I couldn't stop it from happening, but it happened so fast. Like under three minutes? That's embarrassing.” - Joe

“Joe, don't be embarrassed. How long you last doesn't matter to me at all, I just wanna make you feel good.” - you

He nodded but bit the insides of his cheeks.

“I think it's kinda hot that I can get you off that fast. Makes me feel good about myself.” - you

“Really? You don't think it's funny or embarrassing?” - Joe

“No, baby.” - you

You leaned up and pressed a big kiss to Joe’s lips, one of his legs slotting between yours, causing you to grind down onto his thigh.

“Mmm, Joey baby.” - you moaned

“That's it.” - Joe

——

Next Morning

You woke up with a grin on your face as you replayed last night's events in your mind.

Joe had gotten you off twice with his fingers and tongue before he filled you up with his thick cock.

In the back of his mind, he was still feeling a little self-conscious about his first orgasm of the night, but he wouldn't let it show.

When you two were in the shower cleaning up, you could tell something was on Joe’s mind and that something was what had happened earlier.

Without saying anything, you dropped to your knees when his back was to you. He turned around and looked down at you, his dick stirring to life at the all-too-familiar position.

Despite the fact you two had just gone four rounds, Joe’s craving for you was never-ending.

You'd slowly reached out to stroke him, and you finished him off with your mouth.

He manhandled you back to your feet before pressing you against the shower wall.

“If you want me to stop, I will, but you started this.” - Joe

The feel of his thick length against your behind, and his hands holding you in place was getting you worked up all over again.

“Fuck me, Joey.” - you

You two ended the night giggling in bed as you counted up the number of orgasms shared between you two that night.

“Four for me, four for you, gah-lee!” - Joe

“I’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow morning.” - you

“Fuck I might even have a limp.” - Joe

You were pulled out of your fantasies when Joe walked into the bedroom. Toes curled at the sweet sight of him.

Joe wore nothing but a bashful smile, a pair of sweatpants, and raging bedhead.

“Hi.” - you smiled

“Hi. How'd you sleep?” - Joe

“Good. Get in bed with me?” - you

He did as you asked and curled up in bed beside you, pulling you into his chest in the process.

“Where were you?” - you

“Uh… nowhere…” - Joe

You sat up and looked at him, giving him a skeptical look as you narrowed your eyes at him.

Joe sighed and broke your eye contact.

“I was doing something downstairs. It was supposed to be a surprise after you got ready, but you can come downstairs now.” - Joe

You excitedly jumped out of Joe’s arms and ran out of the bedroom, your hand grabbing his as he followed you.

When you two got downstairs, you saw the dining table set up like a date. Breakfast on both of the plates and a bouquet of roses between them.

Joe walked away from you for a second and grabbed a rose.

He walked back up to you and held the flower in front of his bare chest.

“Go on a date with me?” - Joe

You grinned at your boyfriend so big that your cheeks hurt.

“Of course.” - you

Joe handed the single rose to you, and you stood up on your tiptoes to place a kiss on his smooth cheek.

“Thank god, woulda been really awkward if you said no.” - Joe

“I'd never say no to you.” - you laughed

The blush on his cheeks went deep, almost to the shade of the rose he gave you.

You spent the rest of the morning laughing with the handsome man you loved so deeply, wondering about how you got so lucky, and thinking about your future with him.

You were so grateful to have a man you could laugh with, share secrets with, tell all the drama to, and have intense intimate moments with. Sometimes, all within the same day or hour.

It was scary to realize how much of yourself you put in Joe’s hands, but you trusted him more than anything.

The sweet thoughts and realizations were swirling in your mind and making you smile. You'd been staring out of the window, but your thoughts were abruptly interrupted…

*BURP*

Your wide eyes snapped over to Joe, who was holding a hand over his mouth and shared the same wide-eyed look.

“Sorry, didn't expect it to be that loud.” - Joe laughed

“Gosh, I love you.” - you laughed along with him

————————————————————————-

Authors note: GOT IT OUT BEFORE MONDAY! 😆

Request for this fic;

Hope you enjoyed! ❤️❤️

[mellowwillowy]

Every Wednesday at 10 AM sharp, a handsome old man visits you for his weekly book.

Content: Subtle yandere, eldritch horror bs

Despite his wrinkled features, he seems ethereally handsome. You know he is not one friendly man because you've seen his wrath at his family or pests firsthand, but he has never even once treated you as though in a rude manner.

This ritual went on until he decided to start a conversation with you one day.

"Isn't it boring to work as a librarian in this vast library alone?"

And Mother, did you know he has a very rich voice. You were always flustered whenever he spoke and he found it amusing.

"It can't be helped. If not me, then who will take this role?"

Instead of leaving with his book as usual, he decided to stay for a moment. His eyes studied each detail of your appearance meticulously. The two of you were wearing spectacles, except that his was a monocle.

The man only nodded in response and left your counter as usual.

-

Yoggy. A silly name for a man like him but he had grown too used to it to even fuss about it. Unlike you who were just a lesser being, a vessel to your Mother, he was a god with immense power. You'd always think of him as a scholar instead of a glob of featureless tentacles, opting to not scare yourself to meet his almost golden-like eyes.

Wednesday, 10 AM sharp, he waited patiently for you to hand him another book for him to peruse. This time it was a book from the 14th century.

He examined the leather cover and carved the title on it, hand feeling the texture of the old book.

"Have you perhaps ever read that, sir? Should I get another one?"

Yoggy stayed silent for a moment, skimming through the book before shutting it tight with one hand.

"I suppose reading this again wouldn't hurt."

You shivered at his voice. Had you been anyone but not the librarian from this Capital of Life (library), those words would have been delivered more as a warning, a threat, or maybe even the last words you'll be hearing.

As though he noticed your concern, he cleared his throat uncharacteristically.

"I mean that. Cease your worry, librarian."

Perhaps it was because he considered the time you two had cultivated this relationship? It had almost been centuries.

You looked up through the rim of your glasses and looked through his eyes. He really meant it.

Unlike that one time, you accidentally wandered into his territory and saw him shredding someone like a paper for displeasing him, he really had no intention of doing that to you.

Yoggy left with a click of his cane, leaving you all alone on your counter before you dropped to your knees, breathing out the breath you had been holding in. Suddenly, a familiar bright man surprised you as he leaned through the counter, "You thought you almost lost your life again, didn't you~?"

You threw a book lying on the floor at his face out of reflex. Fortunately, he had a quick reflex and caught it with his left hand.

"I think he fancies ya'" He returned the book for you and you accepted it graciously.

"I don't think you should speak of him like that..."

"Why? Because he might behead me for it?"

You nodded and he burst out laughing.

"No no, but I'm serious, dead serious. Don't you think he finally felt lonely again?"

"I'm pretty sure his sons sometimes visit him..."

The man you were speaking to was one of the few friendly gods, alas he was the most likable one due to his friendliness but you chose not to indulge in a friendship with him lest you fell into one of his trickeries.

Nyarla shook his head and waved his hand dramatically, "Oh non non non! Lonely does not only mean 'lonely', but it can also mean 'lonely'."

As though he could read through your puzzled face, he inched closer into your face, mouth close to your ear, and whispered, "I bet he's horny right n-"

Suddenly Nyarla's head was hit by a cane you were familiar with. He immediately regained his composure, jumped into the counter, and hid behind you.

Yoggy came back with a book he didn't lend and a cane pointed toward Nyarla's forehead. His gazes weren't necessarily deadly but still threatening to Nyarla. You stood in front of Nyarla, shielding him from Yoggy's wrath before he got wrung like a dirty dishcloth again.

"Anything I can help you with, sir?" You looked at his face and then at the teal-colored book.

Yoggy glared at Nyarla who was hiding behind you before giving up the idea of wringing him. He handed you the book and you examined it. The leather-covered book had no title carved on it and it was notably old parchment papers. There was not a single content in the book as you skimmed through the pages. You looked at him questioningly.

"I figured I wanted to try something new this time. Librarian, do you know how to write?"

He wanted you to write him a story. Was it some sort of penalty for handing him a book he had once read?

"It's no punishment. I just wish to read a story from the librarian I frequent."

Nyarla whistled and suddenly groaned in pain. You immediately looked behind you and saw him folded in double, clutching his stomach.

"D-do I need to call the nurse, Nyarla?" You placed the book onto the counter first before tending him, trying to pry his hands off his stomach, and saw a black glob of eyes, presumably, Yoggy's doing.

"Nah, just gonna... yank this off." Nyarla pulled the glob from his abdomen, you noticed his organs splattered on the floor before dissipating into nothing. The bloody, open wound that was originally there also healed almost instantly. You shivered from the memory of Yoggy shredding that poor soul again.

Yoggy cleared his throat and your attention returned to him.

"Can you do it?"

Unwilling to be the next subject of his wrath, you nodded frantically and pushed Nyarla's early remark far behind your head. A coward as usual.

-

For the next whole week, Nyarla frequented your counter when he had the time, watching you writing and throwing countless drafts, your counter filled with crumpled paper. Your hands were dirtied by ink and your eye bags showed your lack of sleep.

Nyarla didn't stop teasing you, often reminding you about how 'lonely' Yoggy was and how he was just trying to woo you with this nonsense. You remained diligent with your work to provide Yoggy entertainment lest you became a gruesome lump of meat to sate his boredom.

Today too, Nyarla sat in front of your counter, pouting at the lack of attention you gave him while mindlessly playing with your hair. It was Wednesday at 9 AM, an hour away before Yoggy would visit you for his weekly read and perhaps your story.

Nyarla's golden eyes never left you and you could feel it bore into your pores uncomfortably.

But you paid no mind to it and tried to finish the book, rushing to meet your deadline.

You couldn't hear Yoggy's footsteps mainly because he wasn't walking but Nyarla could sense his presence.

Nyarla inched closer to you, his eyes mesmerized by your eye bags. His lip twitched into a playful grin before he playfully whispered into your ear, "I think I like it more when you are tired."

You didn't understand what he was trying to say. Did he mean he likes you more when you are stressed? If so, you weren't surprised until he nibbled on your ear playfully.

For the first time after centuries, an uncharacteristically high-pitched distress noise slipped out of your mouth. A thud was heard and it was Yoggy's cane falling. Nyarla didn't have to look back to know what it was and opted to clasp his hands onto your face, peppering your face in feather smooches until he was yanked away by angered Yoggy.

Like a mother cat picking its kitten with its mouth except that Nyarla's neck was strangled by his bare hand.

You saw a glimpse of his limbs, limbs filled with eyes staring into the distant and Nyarla, curling around his arms and legs, pulling him even further from you before slamming it into the bookshelves behind him.

If you could scream, you would have screamed but you decided to not bring any attention to yourself. You really didn't want to anger the god further. Nyarla could survive by installing his limbs back like an android but you couldn't. You decided to put all the pity on you and not Nyarla, opting to finish your proofreading ASAP while Yoggy swung Nyarla around like he was a cowboy.

This went on until it was 10 AM and Yoggy lined in front of your counter, his presence demanding another book as usual. You could tell how pale your face was without even having to look into his monocle's reflection.

"Have you finished writing your tale?"

"Y-yes." You mentally scolded yourself for the croaked voice. "Yes, I have sir."

You handed him the teal-covered book and just before you could leave to bring him his weekly read, he held you still by your hand, awfully gentle with how he tried not to scare you after the bloody display he had to show you.

"I will only be reading your writing for this week... so there's no need for another book."

Instead of comforting you, it only dreaded you further. And he could tell by how your pupils were shaking.

Nyarla who had just finally finished putting his limbs back together slinked his arm around his nephew while grinning at you, "Yoggy wants to enjoy your writing to the fullest. Even if it's crap, I'm sure he'll still enjoy it."

"I will, (Name)."

His hand went to reach your ear Nyarla nibbled on earlier and wiped it clean for you before he wiped it on Nyarla's face forcefully again. Just as Yoggy was about to leave, he made sure to drag Nyarla out from the capital.

You could hear Nyarla playfully tease him until they were finally out of earshot. You dropped to your knees and let out the breath you'd been holding on after Yoggy touched your ear, his face dangerously close to you.

You were used to Nyarla's stunt but never Yoggy's. You could feel his breath fanning against your skin and how his eyes looked almost like the golden sun. Your heart drummed against your ribcage, screaming to be ripped out.

Oh never mind, you've never had any heart to begin with and it was just the illusion of your heartbeat spiking up. It reminded you of the time when high schoolers would feel when they were near their crush.

Crush. Feelings? Do you perhaps feel that way for Yoggy or was it just unfamiliarity to his sudden action?

--

"Stop getting under my skin." Yoggy spat through gritted teeth.

"Why? Don't tell me you really fancy that librarian? Oooo, tough time for--"

Just before Nyarla could finish his line, Yoggy swung his cane and Nyarla managed to dodge it this time.

"If you won't quit it, your devotees will be shredded into my devotees' dinner."

A threat. And perhaps a warning. As much as Nyarla liked to push his buttons, he'd rather not risk weakening himself for something silly like this. Nyarla dissipated into nothing and left Yoggy alone with the teal-covered book.

He felt the carved title with his thumb and bit back a smile.

He wasn't sure how he thought of you but he wouldn't deny how pleasant your company was to him. He didn't have to specify what it was yet but he'd like to know what it was soon. For now, he was pleased to be able to see you once a week and perhaps twice a week soon.

He wished you'd require his assistance one day. To have you indebted to him would make it easier for him to grow more inside your mind. He'd rather not use deceit on you. You were a pleasant thing, not a pest or a sacrificial lamb.

Yoggy didn't realize he was walking into someone else until he heard a groan, too immersed in his imaginative world.

Yoggy didn't realize he was smiling until his son pointed it out.

And he refused to realize that he had slaughtered the few people who tried to court you.

... he'd like to understand what he was feeling as soon as possible.

[mybworlds]

Alive

Pairing: jackson!joel miller x f!reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: You, after a very long trip alone across the country, arrive in Jackson. Joel is a very lonely man and after Ellie broke up with him, he's even more alone and grumpy. Tommy and Maria decide that you're going to stay at Joel's house for a while, at least until more houses are built. Will your cohabitation be easy? Or will it be more complicated than everyone thinks?

Warnings: use of you, use of alcohol, loneliness, suicidal thoughts, suicidal attempt, a short story about sexual assault that occurred in the past I won't go into details, another SA in the present days, violence, blood, lots of sexually explicit content, use of petnames, dirty talk, fluff elements, mutual pining, the main characters spy on each other for a while, the image of the female character has the sole purpose of representing the character, but you can imagine her however you want, no physical description of the female character except for long hair often gathered in a ponytail or braid, she wears a bra and jeans (most of the time).

Extra warnings for this chapter: spoilers about the second season and an important event that characterizes TLOU2.

Masterlist

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Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics

You avoid Joel.

You know he had nothing to do with what you lived again, he helped you, made you tea, prepared food, tucked you in.

You know he had nothing to do with it. You've been telling yourself this for days and days, but you still can't leave your room.

Yet, you stand looking out the window all day, you're scared.

Again.

The snow continues to fall heavily and covers the ground around the house.

You are back to observing the city and its inhabitants from afar. You feel like an intruder again to everything that happens around you.

Joel knocks on your door twice. It's a conventional sign that Joel has adopted to tell you that he's brought you something hot to eat.

It seems like he cares about you, but you know he doesn't. He told you so clearly that he doesn't care about you.

You turn towards the door and you go to open the door. When you open it there’s Joel only.

His look is unreadable.

He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then he reconsiders.

You stay like this. Motionless, one hand on the doorknob and the other at your side.

His hazel eyes bore into your. You gulp.

Then, he seems to regain a hint of control, "Um, I'm about to go on patrol, you have to come." he says hastily.

You swallow, "I have to?"

He nods, "Yeah. Are you coming?"

You sigh, "What about Jesse? Tommy? Vasquez?"

"I need ya." he replies, but shortly after saying it he realizes the manner and words chosen. He clears his throat, "So?" he asks you impatiently "Will you come?"

You sigh, “Okay.”

Joel nods before to walk away, you hear him go downstairs, while you stare at where Joel was standing a moment before, he's so weird.

You shake your head, deciding to ignore everything and focus on the patrol. You put on your scarf, gloves, hat, snow boots and jacket and head down. You take your bow and arrows and you reach him.

The door of the house is open and Joel is there in front: his hands on his hips and his gaze turned outwards, his rifle askew.

"Ready." you say alongside him.

He turns to you, looks at you, you lower your gaze and look outwards, then back at him "Shall we go?" you ask him.

He nods with a poorly concealed smile.

When you leave the house, you reach the horses and Joel asks you "Do you wanna help?"

"No, I'll handle it myself." you respond by mounting your steed.

You tighten the reins, observing the horse's mane, feeling a vice in the pit of your stomach. You know he's just trying to make you understand that he's there, but you don't want to be treated differently. You would feel even worse.

You join the others in silence, "Hey," someone greets you, others give you a look full of compassion that makes you look down. You don't want to be treated like a victim. You couldn't stand it.

Jesse places a hand on your back getting your attention, “It's going to be okay.” you nod with a small smile, then he says “Okay, this time Joel, you and Tommy are going to the valley. Stone and Clark towards the mountains, you and me instead" he says turning his gaze towards you "in the woods."

You nod as Joel approaches you.

"Jesse, I thought she and I could go together," you first look at Joel dumbfounded, then you and Jesse exchange looks.

"Um, Joel, you know that area so well and so does Tommy. It's for the best. We'll meet back to the radio tower in four hours." he adds, addressing all of you.

Joel looks down, almost looking disappointed.

Jesse walks away and that's when you turn to him, "Joel?" he looks up "I'll be fine." he nods, resting his eyes on yours, "Promise." you add placing a hand on his forearm before to leave.

"What was that?" Tommy asks his brother.

Meanwhile, the two brothers head towards the valley, always keeping an eye on the area around them which is quiet for the moment.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Joel replies despite having understood exactly what his brother is referring to.

"Don't get vague with me. I recognize that look and I haven't seen it since... before Sarah was born."

Joel sighs, looking left and right. His love life has always been a disaster and even before the birth of his daughter, after his mother left them, he no longer had anyone other than sporadic encounters once or twice, but then he returned to Sarah and she was the only one to whom he had dedicated himself completely.

"I'm serious, Joel," Tommy continues, "if you were to finally start a new life, I'd be happy and I'd give ya all my support."

Joel mutters to himself. You are pretty, sweet, you are fragile even if you do everything to hide it, you are brave, but that's not the point. The point is, he doesn't know if he's really ready to take off that armor and show himself for who he really is. Although he himself has difficulty understanding who he is now, who he has become.

"Think about it." Tommy says.

"There's nothing to think about! I can't stand her!"

Tommy sighs, "If you want to prove that you're a tough one, don't do that. You'll just risk pushing her away." Joel's gaze is blank "If you don't want to get teased about that, it's different!"

"Stop ranting, move!" Joel snaps.

Tommy chuckles shaking his head "Okay, heart of stone, let's move our asses!"

The vegetation is covered by a thick blanket of snow, the horses pass two fallen trees, a fence and the remains of a house. They can only hear the footsteps of their horses in the snow and their breathing. The two siblings look around and apart from a few infected people and a couple of hares they find nothing else.

"There's nothing here. Let's join the others at radio tower." says Joel making the horse turn around.

When the two brothers reach the meeting point, Stone and Clark are already there preparing a fire, Jesse is carrying a bunch of blankets and handing them out to Clark and Stone who are already there.

The Millers get off their horses and approach the others, Joel looks around perplexed, where are you?

"Jesse?" the boy looks up "Where is she?" Joel asks looking around.

"She said she wanted to be alone a little longer," he replies.

“And you did?” Joel continues looking around in hopes of seeing you.

"Joel, relax and then don't crowd her."

"I don't wanna crowd her." he clarifies "It's just..." after everything you had to suffer "she's been through a lot."

“I know,” both Joel and Jesse are silent for a few moments, “that's why you should give her some space and time.”

"I'm just worried that she's alone somewhere. This world is dangerous." Joel continues although he realizes that this excessive concern of his may sound ridiculous.

“You're a good roommate,” Jesse says, patting Joel on the back, “if she's not here in half an hour, I'll go look for her.”

Joel looks around.

No, he'll come after you.

You and Jesse found some canned food, bottles of water, and some wood. You can return to your meeting point.

It reminds you of when you grabbed everything you could just to survive, you remember how scared you were after escaping from the QZ, you remember constantly looking over your shoulder.

You were so afraid.

"All in all, it turned out nice." Jesse comments with a smile.

"Huh? Yep! Yes, indeed." you reply, but you're distracted.

Jesse is silent, as you.

Then you dare to ask him, "What happened to those two guys?"

Jesse doesn't need to know who you're referring to, he knows.

"The next day the council met and they were expelled. They won't be able to hurt you anymore." he tells you in a complacent way.

You nod. So, they're out here. Somewhere. Maybe alive or maybe dead or maybe infected.

You swallow and think if those policemen had listened to you in that QZ, you might not have done what you did, maybe you wouldn't have run away.

Your head is spinning and you're starting to break out in a cold sweat, you feel like your arms and legs are paralyzing, you choke.

"Are you okay?" Jesse asks you, coming next to you.

“Mhm, mhm” you moan “You go ahead, I'll catch right up."

"It's not a good idea."

"I insist, go. It's not my first time alone, Jesse. It's okay." you say feeling your breath getting shorter.

Well, actually, it's not.

Jesse tells you something like he's going to start moving forward or something like that before to leave, you feel paralyzed.

You can't breathe or think. You're terrified. The anxiety is growing more and more inside you, it's becoming unbearable. Your heart beats so hard, it feels like it's going to explode in your chest.

You remember that evening when you left the QZ, you remember your only three surviving friends who told you not to leave the quarantine area, but instead you did with a backpack on your shoulder and as many supplies as you could bring with you. You had just killed the man you thought loved you who instead raped you. You're a killer and it doesn't matter why you did it, but that you did.

You didn't even realize you'd fallen off your horse and been submerged in the snow. You breathe hard, you move your eyes left and right, unable to move.

Everything you've ever felt is eating you alive.

What you lived, what you did will never change.

Never.

Never.

Never.

He had to pay for it, but did you have to do it?

You're a murderer.

"Hey, hey, hey," Joel grabs your shoulders making you re-emerge from the snow that had partly covered you and making you sit down "breathe, breathe slowly. Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth."

“I can't breathe,” you tell him in a strangled tone of voice moving your eyes only.

"Yes, you can. C'mon, kiddo." he says positioning himself behind you making you rest your back against his chest "Do you feel my breathing? In and out. In and out."

You're shaking, “Joel,” you say, gripping his jeans in your fists, “I… I…”

"Sssh, sssh, it's okay, even if it doesn't seem like it. Don't worry. Breathe."

You continue to convulsively tighten his trousers, while the nature around you slowly regains shape and color.

"It's okay," he continues, holding your shoulders with a firm grip "In and out, in and out." he's silent for a few moments "I don't know what triggered it, but everything's fine. The past can hurt. But it's not here. Sssh, can you feel it? It's already better." he whispers in your ear touching your shell with his lower lip, "Come on, again."

You close your eyes and you do as he told you and very slowly the grip on his jeans loosens until it's completely loosened.

He doesn't speak, he still holds you in that position, then when he feels that your breathing has returned to normal he loosens his grip.

"How you feel?" he asks in a murmur in your ear.

You nod, “Good.”

"Okay." he says getting up and offering you his hands which you grab and standing up too "Let's go." he adds and together you go to the field.

Evening comes and you and Joel are on watch, secretly observing each other.

You want to ask him why he behaves so differently. He would like to tell you that he knows what haunts you about your past, but he knows that if he did, you might get mad at him. And you wouldn't be wrong.

You are almost next to each other again in front of a broken glass window, it's cold that evening too.

You wrap your arms around yourself, massaging them to warm yourself up a little despite the jacket.

"Cold?" he asks you.

"Freezing." you answer trembling.

He stands up and hands you a blanket that it enveloped him, “No, what about you?” you ask him questioningly.

"I’m fine." he answers you, but his red cheeks and nose tell a whole different story.

"Sure?"

"Yep," he mumbles moving away from you, but staying close to the window.

You visibly relax under that blanket thanking Joel with a look.

"Have you already participated in other patrols of this type?" you ask him curiously.

"Yep."

You nod, staring at the darkness outside, "How did it go with Tommy?" you ask him.

“Good,” he says nodding.

“Um, you and Tommy…” you don’t know if you can ask.

“What?” he asks you, frowning and narrowing his eyes.

“How is your relationship?” he tilts his head to the side “Do you get along?”

"Well, let's say that every time we're together we end up fighting each other."

You look at him, "But you love each other."

"Yes. Well, I guess we have a typical sibling relationship."

"I guess so."

Joel watches you, you are thoughtful. As always. He would like to help you, but he knows that it's impossible.

“Do you have brothers?” Joel asks you, looking at your face. “Or sisters?”

“No, I was an only child.” you take a short pause “But I had a friend who was like a sister.” Joel listens “She was my best friend. We were always together. We were together when it all started,” you tell him, you stop for a moment thinking about her "Joel?" you ask looking up at him finding his eyes already on you “Why?” he cocks his head to the side “Why do you treat me differently? I thought you considered me a burden, or someone to get rid of at the first opportunity."

Joel doesn't answer right away, he looks at you for a long time and when you think he won't answer you, he instead replies "What happened to you affected me a lot."

You tsk, you knew it. Now he feels sorry for you. What you didn't want. You have always hated those words like 'it must have been terrible' or 'poor thing' or those looks with which they make you feel worse and feel a broken piece that needs fixing.

"So, for you too I'm someone to keep under a bell jar, to treat as if it could break at any moment, right?" you retort him.

Joel quirks an eyebrow, but doesn't answer. At least not right away, he observes an unspecified point and then says, "What happened reminded me of how self-destructive mankind is." you stare at him waiting for him to make a comment about you, but he doesn't "I did some horrible things that I'm not proud of. I’d say that I did it to save my ass and the few people I cared about, but deep down I know that I'm not a good one." he tells you by opening up to you for the first time.

You look at him and see him still stare into space. His facial features are tense, you can see him grinding his teeth, "What did you do?" you ask him in a low voice.

Only then does he look at you, "I've seriously injured and killed, stolen, looted corpses, sold contraband, beaten innocents and not ones, I drank until I forgot who I was. The prototype of the good guy, y'know."

You purse your lips, lowering your head and huddling in the blanket.

"You must have done it for a reason," you just say although you ain't convinced by what you say. You don't want to judge him, after all you don't know him and you too have done horrible things to get there.

"You believe?" he tsks before approaching you, you remain still. You gulp and look up at him “What if I only did it out of pure selfishness?” he looks at you “Is this a good reason too?"

“You did it to survive.” you reply quickly "I'm sure of it."

"And you didn't?" You look at him, "Didn't you do it to survive? I mean, whatever you did." he adds looking you in the eye.

You lower your head, stare at your feet, with those words Joel seems to have sucked the air out of you. You bring the edges of the blanket closer, holding them to your chest. You close your eyes and breathe deeply through your nose, then open them again.

"Our stories are different."

He nods "That's not much, but for sure," he comments "but there's the same epilogue, don't you think?"

"If you say so." you reply, looking at the darkness outside.

For a while you stay in silence, the only sound in the background is the chirping of crickets and the hooting of owls, every now and then you hear small movements around you, you make sure that they are only small animals and so nothing to worry about.

Jesse, Tommy, Clark and Stone continue to sleep blissfully.

You know you should keep watch and be vigilant, but your eyes are so heavy. You do everything you can to fight this pressing sleep, but in the end you give in.

You almost feel like you're being pulled upwards as if invisible wings were levitating you in mid-air and you feel so light. For the first time in many years you have a complete head emptied, free from any thought. It's so beautiful. You find yourself smiling in your sleep, how much you wish your life was this warm and soft too.

When you open your eyes, you immediately sit up, fuck, you were supposed to be on guard with Joel and instead you're there wrapped between two very heavy and soft blankets on a couch not too far from your lookout point and you look like an idiot. You cover your eyes in shame, now you've given Joel Miller another excuse to fuck with you. How stupid!

You expect giggles or mocking digs and instead all you find is Tommy drinking what looks like coffee outside the building "Morning," he says hearing you behind him looking at you sideways.

"I'm sorry, I fell asleep," you justify, rubbing your eyes and then looking around, "where’s everyone else?" you ask, looking for other faces nearby.

"Everyone's back except Joel and me." he replies by rubbing his hands to warm up, you are about to ask him where he is, but Tommy precedes you "He heard a noise and he went to check."

"And you let him go alone?!” Tommy looks at you and at that moment the look is identical to Joel's "Relax, ma'am, he's a grown man and he can stand up for himself and then he practically forced me to stay with you." you do your high ponytail again and immediately go inside and grab your bow and arrow, "Hey, where are you going?"

"Looking for him, which direction did he go in?" you ask him, slipping the bow over your shoulder.

"Don't be ridiculous! It's imprudent to venture out alone!" Tommy exclaims.

"Your brother is out there and I'm going to see if he's gotten into any trouble, will you come with me or will I go alone?" you reply using a tone that doesn't allow any replies.

Tommy rolls his eyes, "So stubborn!" he whispers shaking his head "Okay, let's go!" he exclaims, taking his rifle and following you.

Maybe you overreacted, but you almost felt a duty to do so. He came looking for you and helped you in a moment of great difficulty.

As you walk following the footprints Joel left in the snow, Tommy says "I have no trouble understanding how you get along with Joel! He can be very stubborn at times too." for a few steps he's silent "You would have gotten along with Ellie too if you had met her as she was a few years ago."

You turn to look at him for a moment, "I actually met her a while ago, she seems like a good kid, even if shy and angry at the world,"

"Not with the world, but with Joel!" Tommy exclaims as you frown and stop looking at him. Tommy has the expression of someone who talked too much and shouldn't have.

"What happened?" you ask him curiously.

"I can't talk about it, Joel would kill me!" He says before starting to walk again.

You raise your eyebrows with a surprised expression, but decide not to investigate. If he wants to talk about it, he will. Or maybe not.

Walking in some places is extremely difficult, it amazes you that Joel made it this far.

"There are footprints that lead in one direction and others in another, what do we do?" you ask uncertainly, clutching your bow.

"You go right and I'll go left," Tommy offers.

"But you said it was dangerous to separate!" you blurt out.

“Do you have a better idea?” he asks, as stupid as it sounds, you shake your head "Good! Then you go right and I'll go left," he reminds you before walking away from you.

You walk slowly hoping not to run into any trap, a light but cold wind picks up and you find yourself shrugging your shoulders and at the same time tightening your grip on your bow. You wonder why you are interested in someone like Joel, a person who did nothing but keep you away and push you away, but at the same time tries to keep you around.

Someone from behind pulls you away an instant before a trap snaps at your feet and you find yourself crushed against this person's chest. His hands hold your shoulders firmly, your coat is gripped tightly in his fists. You turn around only to see who saved you, it's Joel.

His expression is serious and breathless as if he ran to catch you so you don't end up with a broken ankle.

"Joel?!"

"What the fuck were you doing?" he asks sharply, taking his hands away from your coat.

"I came looking for you." you reply and his expression changes from serious to surprise. The expression in his eyes softens although the stern expression on his face has not yet disappeared "Sorry, it was stupid." you add lowering your head before look elsewhere.

"Yeah, it was. If I hadn't been here you could have bled to death or maybe eaten by wolves," you breathe through your nostrils, clutching your bow convulsively, he sighs "Let's go."

Not that you were expecting a thank you actually, but you feel a strange weight in the pit of your stomach as if you'd just been punched. In fact, perhaps receiving it would have hurt less.

It's late morning when the three of you return to Jackson. Maria and Dina welcome you and Tommy warmly, the two only nod to Joel as if he was a monster to be kept away and this different reception makes you feel really bad for him even though he treated you badly before.

You see him out of the corner of your eye, Joel leads the horse into the stable with heavy steps. You swallow, you are about to tell him to join you, when Dina drags you away inviting you to have a drink together to warm up in the freezing temperatures.

That morning, you see Ellie again at Tipsy Bison. She stands in a corner aside, you glance at her fleetingly, having a hard time reconciling what you see with the description Tommy gave you of her. Tommy's words resonate with you, she's mad at Joel.

Why?

You know it's none of your business, but you still wonder what could have happened between them that was so serious to cause such a break.

"Earth calls Moon!" Dina calls back to you, making you jump and blink several times before to answer her.

“Sorry, what were you gonna say?”

Dina rolls her eyes before smiling and saying, “I'd like you to meet Noah. He's a bit eccentric, he loves to party, but maybe you could like someone like him.” you giggle awkwardly “I’m serious. He's very cute and I think you'd get along well. I don't want to force you, but I've arranged to meet him here tonight.”

“Oh, thanks for respecting my time!” you exclaim, rolling your eyes.

“I didn't tell him he has a date with you, let's say I told him about the party here tonight and so...” she gives you a knowing wink, you roll your eyes again.

“I don't know,” you sigh.

“Try! Maybe you'll like him!”

You scratch your neck in an embarrassed gesture, “Okay. . .” you sigh, sipping your drink.

For that unusual evening, Dina insisted that you wear a dress of hers that a friend had made for her a while ago, but which she said was now too small for her. The dress itself is very simple and elegant, unusual for you. You don't particularly like this kind of clothes because they draw too many glances at you and you feel uncomfortable.

You walk into Tipsy Bison and look at how they've decorated that place. You've never seen so many lights illuminate it. It's amazing. You find yourself smiling as you look around and see Dina dancing and having fun with a guy who seems to be a great dancer. When she sees you, she waves her hand and walks away from the dancer.

“You did!” she exclaims “You’re beautiful!” she says smiling at you and you smile back shyly “This dress definitely looks better on you!”

“Thanks,” you look around nervously, “has the mysterious man arrived yet?”

“Oh yes, it's him.” she replies, turning towards the boy she was dancing with until a moment before.

You don't have time to say anything else because Dina waves the young man closer, “Hi.” He greets you. He has short brown hair and a light beard, green eyes, a warm voice and a big smile on his face. He's cute, you think.

“Hi,” you reply a little less warmly.

“So, um. . . Are you Dina's friend?” he asks you embarrassed.

“Well, I'm going to get something to drink,” she says, taking her leave.

You both look at each other sheepishly, “I'm sorry,” you tell him “I'm not used to these things.” you add, shrugging your shoulders.

“Me neighter.” he says, scratching the back of his neck “I haven't had a real date since before the outbreak,” you smile weakly “I'm Noah,” he introduces himself, stretching out his hand which you shake while saying your name.

“How long have you been here in Jackson?” he asks you.

“A few months. And you?”

“A year. It's weird that we've never seen each other before.”

“Well, I'm not a people person, I’m a very private one. I think it also depends on the fact that I was alone for a long time.”

“You don't need to say anything, what we lived has changed all of us.” you nod “The things we did to survive transformed us,” you gulp “let's not think about it now, come I'll offer you what you want.” he tells you smiling.

“A soda,” he nods “better not to drink.” you add, clearing your throat. Instead he takes a slightly alcoholic drink and then you sit down, you're both uncomfortable at first, then you find yourself talking about horse riding and playing the piano and so you have something to say to each other and actually start exchanging opinions, while there’s a gentle music in the background and someone is slow dancing. Including Dina and Ellie.

You look first at the two girls in surprise, then at Noah who smiles and looks back. “They're cute, right?” Noah asks you.

You nod, “I thought she was with Jesse, I didn't realize. . .”

It's an instant and the situation goes from being tender to tense as Seth, the owner of the place, uses an absolutely rude tone and manner towards the two girls. To make everything worse, Joel intervenes and, from what you understand, he isn't well received here. He chases Seth away from the two, or rather from Ellie, and Seth reacts to this behavior.

Luckily, Maria and Tommy intervene and separate the two men. You watch Maria and Tommy go out with Seth who blurts out about Dina and Ellie's indecent behavior towards the families and children who are in the club, but then your attention focuses on Joel and Ellie.

You don't hear what they say, but you observe the contrite look of the man who looks at the young woman and then also leaves the room. He doesn't see you, but you see the tears fly down his cheeks before he walks out of Tipsy Bison.

You feel so sorry for him that a part of you wants to run after him, but you're sure he won't thank you so you don't.

After that moment of great tension, the music starts again and everything goes back to how it was before. All in all, your evening was calm and pleasant, Noah and you discovered other passions in common and you therefore spent a pleasant evening. It hadn't happened to you for a long time and you even managed to relax a little.

When you come home, however, the scenario is anything but serene. You hear the fire crackle and find Joel in a deep state of despair, he can't stop drinking. You look at him worriedly, “Joel,” you groan sadly, you are thinking about what to say.

“Fuck off, I don't want your pity!” he blurts out, pouring himself another glass of amber liquid and gulping it down “Go away!”

“No, stop.” you desperately try to stop him, but he snatches the glass and bottle from your grasp dropping some on the ground “I don't feel pity for you, but understanding.” you breathe heavily “You know what, I want forget it too!” you blurt out, heading towards a cabinet where he keeps wines and spirits.

The bottle of whiskey is thick and heavy, you open it a little clumsily “Don't be stupid!” Joel exclaims as he approaches to snatch the bottle from your hands, but you precede him and drink from the bottle moving away from him.

“No!” you protest “I suffer too, Joel. But I don't drown it in a glass of vodka or try to forget who I am so I don't suffer. Fuck, it doesn't work like that!” you say, taking another sip of whiskey feeling the tears in the back of your eyes and feeling your throat and insides burning.

“Then, why are you drinking?” he asks you.

“So there will be two of us who will forget. You can talk to me and I won't remember a thing about what you confided in me.” you tell him, staggering closer to him without stopping to swallow that drink.

“You're crazy, you know?” he says, taking the bottle from your hands and placing it on the kitchen island. You nod.

Suddenly Joel no longer seems so clear nor his voice hoarse to your ears, everything seems to echo and the edges blur.

You don't even know how you ended up on that couch in his living room, half intertwined, he talks non-stop and you laugh about what he says or you simply find yourself snuggling closer against him. Your hand wanders along the open edges of his shirt, he stops your hand on more than one occasion, but you always find a way to start stroking the edge of his garment again until one of your fingers doesn't end up caressing the base of his neck and this time he completely wraps your hand in his and you look into each other's eyes without saying anything.

“Don't.” he tells you calmly after what seemed like minutes to you.

“You scared?” you ask placing one leg delicately between his and letting the dress show your legs and almost all of your thighs.

“‘bout what? You?” he asks, you smile weakly shaking your head “So what about?”

“That you can't have a normal life anymore. Do you ever think about your life and what it would have been like if the world had never ended?”

He breathes deeply, “To be honest, I dunno what I would have done with my life.”

“Try,” you encourage him.

He clicks his tongue and stares at the ceiling for a few moments, “Maybe… I would have started my own business company.”

You hum, “Were you in the sector?” he smiles faintly, putting an arm behind his head and in that light he doesn’t even seem that old.

“I was a contractor.” You nod. “I was pretty good, y’know.”

“I’m sure you still are, why don’t you build anymore?” you ask him curiously.

“Well, no one feels safe entrusting the construction of a house to a drunk,” he confides in you and you, in a fit of tenderness, or perhaps due to the alcohol, rest your head in the crook of his neck and close your eyes. He moves his arm again and this time places it on your back, which he caresses absentmindedly.

“Don’t be sad, lil’ one,” he tells you, almost mumbling and with a tone that perhaps was meant to be a reproach, but which instead moved you even more.

“I'm not,” you tell him, gently caressing his neck with your nose, while he brings his other hand to your thigh.

You flinch at that contact, you remember the last guy, oh it was a long time ago and the moment was anything but intimate.

Now you're with Joel and this moment has suddenly become anything but weird. It's probably the alcohol, but being with him has become pleasant and intimate. Even though he's constantly angry and sad, you know, you sense that he will never do anything that may hurt you.

His hand caresses you so gently that you shiver, every now and then you feel his nails tickling your skin and you find yourself swallowing emptyly. You close your eyes and savor that sweet touch reverberating throughout your body. You like it.

You let out a longer sigh, you feel him smile, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Joel?”

“Uh?”

“Have you ever been married?” you ask him sincerely curious.

“I was. For a while.” he tells you caressing the outer side of your thigh as slowly as before.

“I like it.” you say with a sigh.

“What? That I was married?”

You smile, “No, dummy. I like the way you caress me.”

He smiles, “You’re taking advantage of me because I’m very tipsy.”

Your smile widens, “I think you’re doing it too,” you mumble, pressing yourself a little tighter against him, inhaling his strong scent of musk, wood, leather, mint and alcohol.

Alcohol has always bothered you in terms of smell, but on him it becomes pleasant.

“I had my own opinion about you,” he suddenly tells you, opening and closing his eyes.

“Not a good one, I guess.”

He smiles, opening his eyes, “Of course not.”

You find yourself smiling and absentmindedly caressing that portion of chest that peeks out from the edges of his shirt.

“What now?” you ask him.

“I dunno.” he answers you in a vague tone.

You chuckle, “You are beautiful.” You blurt out before you can even think about it.

“This is what you think of me?” you smile at him, snuggling into his neck and kissing it gently “Whatcha doing?” he asks you as you feel him holding his breath.

“I like your scent,” you admit, deeply inhaling his scent.

You rest on one of your forearms, getting up slightly and finding yourself looking at his face that you now find decidedly pleasant.

He reaches out to your face, moving a large strand of hair out of the braid behind your ear and start caressing your cheek. Oh, his hand has such a soft, gentle touch even though it's calloused and chapped!

He caresses your lower lip with his thumb, you get the shivers without even knowing exactly why.

“You know, no one knows about these panic attacks of mine.” You pause. “I think that’s what I have, I’m not sure. Anyway, you’re the first and only one who’s been there for me. Thank you.”

He caresses your cheek with an unusual and disarming tenderness and intimacy, “Anytime.”

“Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it was this first real conversation of ours, but I almost feel like I don’t feel broken, but good. Alive, maybe. Yes, I feel alive,” you confess to him.

You are eye to eye. Those hazel eyes almost seem to turn honey-colored in the fireplace light.

“Joel?”

“Uh?”

“I want to kiss you,” you answer him with your eyes downcast, feeling almost suspended.

“Don't.” he says placing a fingertip on your lips.

You lower your head, “Sorry that was stupid.”

“It's not that. It's. . . Um, I don't think I remember how to do it,” he adds sheepishly.

You smile, reaching out to cup his cheek, “I trust you.”

He smiles weakly, “Is that why you drank with me?” you nod “What if I had attacked you? What if I had hurt you?”

“You couldn't. I know.” you reply caressing his right cheek.

He places his hand on yours, “You're wrong. You know nothing ‘bout me. I've done so many horrible things and if you were smart enough, you'd run away.” he says.

“And what did you do that was so horrible? You did what we all had to do to survive.” you tell him “I don't judge you.”

“And why you do?” he asks you.

“Because…” you fell silent for a moment with your head down “I killed, but not just to survive,” he looks at you in silence, slightly increasing his grip on your hand, “I killed the man who raped me. I can't stop seeing that scene before my eyes, but I can't regret what I did.” he doesn't comment on what you said, but lifts your hand from his cheek and brings it to his mouth, more precisely he brings your wrist to his mouth and kisses it delicately “I tried to kill myself. There was a moment when I felt like a monster and...” the words die in your throat.

He kisses your wrist even more intensely “Thank you.” you look at him perplexed “For coming looking for me. You were reckless, but thank you.” you smile at him.

“It took you a long time!” you tease him “I know you're sweet, but hardened by everything you've had to endure.” you add.

“Well, I think it's the same for you too. In short, you fought and even if. . . Um. . . broken, you are...” he appears unsure of the words to use “shit, I don't even remember how to give a decent compliment!” he curses, making you smile.

“Do we blame the whiskey and vodka?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“So can I blame the whiskey for what I want to do?” he nods, looking into your eyes.

You place your lips on his once, twice, three times, on the fourth he kisses you back placing his hands on your cheeks and deepening your kiss. “We'll regret it, you know?” he asks before he starts kissing you again and holding you tightly to him while you sink your hands into his grayish curly hair.

You feel so good, you look into each other's eyes for a long, long moment, then everything goes dark.

[misc-obeyme]

Worth It

I was possessed by the spirit of macaron (or barbmon or mambatos or... what was the other one I saw? something to do with greed?) and HERE IT IS. I just- they're so- I can't help it, okay??? This is absolutely ridiculous but I REGRET NOTHING. Left it so I had the option of a smutty part two but I haven't decided if I'm gonna write it yet or not. Also, tagging @lonely-north-star as requested in exchange for the cutest art I ever saw~

Mammon x Barbatos - okay you can read part two here it's smut lol

Warnings: nothing really this is mostly fluff - just some making out and a cameo by Little D No 2

Mammon pressed himself up against the wall of the castle as he crept down the massive hallway in the semi darkness. He knew the passages well enough by now, having mapped out the most important ones. This particular hallway would lead him to the vault if he followed it far enough. However, Mammon also knew this was the way to the kitchen.

Technically, he shouldn’t be here. He should be at the House of Lamentation working on that stupid report for Devildom Law. And yeah, he’d tried to write some of it. It took maybe five minutes before he was bored out of his mind and decided he had something more important to do.

He was so focused on the task at hand that he didn’t notice Little D No 2 until he was tripping over him.

“Ow, hey watch it!” No 2 protested.

“Shhh!” Mammon bent down to clasp a hand on No 2’s mouth.

“Mm-mm!” No 2 exclaimed.

“How many times do I gotta tell ya?” Mammon whispered. “I ain’t nobody’s papa! Now be quiet or he’ll hear you!”

A door opened and light spilled into the hallway, illuminating the scene. Barbatos looked about for a moment before spotting them.

Mammon stood up straight, No 2 still clasped in his hands.

Barbatos shook his head a bit. “Did you truly think I would not notice you sneaking by?”

“I wasn’t sneakin’!” Mammon said immediately.

No 2 kicked his legs. “Mm! Mm-mm-mm-mmmm!”

“Ya little traitor!” Mammon said.

“If you would please let Little D No 2 go,” Barbatos said calmly. “He has his own work to be getting to.”

No 2 groaned as Mammon put him down, surprisingly careful.

“But Mr. Barbatos!” No 2 exclaimed as soon as Mammon removed his hand from No 2's mouth.

“No arguments, No 2,” Barbatos said, though his voice was soft and there was a trace of a smile on his face. “You still have dusting to do, if I’m not mistaken.”

No 2 groaned again, but he scampered away down the hall as he did so.

Barbatos looked across the hallway at Mammon, who stayed where he was, frozen in uncertainty.

“You’re slipping, I fear,” Barbatos said. “Normally you make it quite a bit closer to the vault before being caught.”

Mammon folded his arms. “Yeah? Well if I’m slippin’, so are you. How long have ya known I was here? Didn’t even bother to come lookin’.”

Barbatos actually chuckled at this and Mammon was suddenly fighting down a blush. “My apologies,” Barbatos said. “I’m afraid I was unable to leave the cake I’m baking unattended in order to apprehend you.”

Mammon blushed harder and looked away. “Yeah, well, I ain’t here for the vault anyway.”

“No?” Barbatos asked and there was genuine confusion in his voice. “Then what has brought you here this evening?”

Mammon pulled a small packet out of his jacket pocket. “I-I happened to come across this. Know it’s pretty rare. Thought ya might appreciate it.”

Without even looking at Barbatos, Mammon crossed the space and put the packet in his hands.

“That’s all, I’ll see myself out,” Mammon said, as he turned away.

Barbatos caught his wrist.

There was a brief moment where neither of them moved or spoke. Mammon’s heart was racing.

“This is one of the rarest teas available in the Devildom,” Barbatos said quietly. “Did you really intend to give it to me without staying to sample a cup?”

Mammon gulped, still turned away. His wrist was tingling where Barbatos was still holding on. Barbatos wasn’t wearing his gloves, having taken them off while he was baking. The contact between their skin was both thrilling and terrifying.

Mammon turned around, effectively removing his wrist from Barbatos’s grip. “I-I mean, if ya want me to…”

“I would enjoy nothing more than serving tea to the Great Mammon,” Barbatos said.

Mammon looked up at him sharply. He was greeted by a teasing smile, but also a glimmer of genuine pleasure. Mammon took a deep breath and said, “That’s right! Of course ya want me to stay! I don’t mind stickin’ around for a bit, but ya better be grateful!”

Barbatos stepped aside to allow Mammon to enter the kitchen. “My gratitude knows no bounds.”

Mammon narrowed his eyes at Barbatos as he entered the kitchen and settled on a stool by the island counter. Barbatos went around to the other side with the packet of tea and began to prepare the tea pot.

Barbatos looked up at Mammon through the fringe of his bangs. "If you had no intention of stealing from the vault, why were you sneaking through the hallway in the dark? You should have let me know you were coming."

Mammon huffed. He was annoyed at how hot his face still was. He couldn't seem to calm down. "I just… wanted to surprise ya."

Barbatos chuckled. "Then you have succeeded," he said. "I am both surprised by the fact that you are not here to steal and by the rarity of the tea you've brought me. Do I want to know how you obtained it?"

"I didn't steal it," Mammon said instantly. His blush was gone now and he sat up straight. "I saw it for sale and Lucifer told me what it was. So I earned some extra cash by pickin' up a couple modelin' gigs, that's all."

Barbatos paused what he was doing to meet Mammon's eyes across the counter. "You would do that for me?"

Mammon knew this was his chance to be honest. For how long had he been playing this little game with Barbatos? How long had they been tip toeing around each other, never fully committing, never even acting like they were close. Mammon didn't know what was holding Barbatos back - propriety probably - but for him? It was the knowledge that this demon was too good for him.

Despite that, he wasn't afraid of being rejected. He knew better than that.

"Yeah," he said, easily, not breaking eye contact. "I would. I did."

The smile that spread across Barbatos's face was the most beautiful thing Mammon had ever seen. So often he saw the knowing smile or the indulgent smile, but this was a genuine expression of fondness. Like Barbatos had finally cast aside his mask to reveal how he truly felt.

"Thank you, Mammon," Barbatos said, simply.

Mammon's heart suddenly became noisy in his ears.

When the tea was ready, Barbatos poured them each a cup, then came around the counter to sit on a stool beside Mammon. He placed the cups in front of them.

Mammon took his cup, which was still quite warm. Steam rose from it, fogging up his glasses.

Barbatos shook his head, though he was smiling. He put down his own cup and reached across to take Mammon's glasses off himself. He put them down on the counter. "You really needn't wear your sunglasses indoors, wouldn't you say?"

Mammon was so stunned by this intimate gesture that he didn't know how to respond for a moment. "Y-yeah," he mumbled.

Barbatos sipped at his tea, then closed his eyes in satisfaction. "This is indeed a high quality blend. You must have paid quite a bit of Grimm for it."

Mammon shrugged. "Eh," he said noncommittally. He didn't care how much the tea had cost. Barbatos's smile and his satisfied expression was worth every Grimm.

Barbatos opened his eyes. "Eh?"

Mammon sipped at his own cup before responding. "It was worth it."

Barbatos seemed to understand what he meant, the part that he didn't say. Though it was often hard for Mammon to tell just what Barbatos was thinking. He was too good at masking his emotions. Mammon was aware of how Barbatos only ever let him see what he wanted Mammon to see.

Barbatos put his tea cup down on the counter and slid off his stool. Mammon looked at him curiously, once again unable to read his expression.

Barbatos took the cup from Mammon's hands and put it on the counter next to his own. Mammon let him, responding easily and without resistance.

And then Barbatos moved in between Mammon's knees and kissed him.

Mammon's eyes fluttered closed as he tasted the light flavor of the tea on Barbatos's lips. His hands reached out instinctively to pull Barbatos closer. Even as his heart was racing again and the blush had sprung back up, Mammon also wanted more of this.

To his surprise, Barbatos responded almost as eagerly, one hand on Mammon's waist, the other on his thigh. Mammon thought he would combust when he felt a light nip at his bottom lip, causing him to open his mouth.

The next few minutes was all heat and tongues and the lingering taste of tea. Mammon thought he'd fall off his stool because he felt so dizzy.

Barbatos pulled away for a moment and looked at Mammon with half lidded eyes. "Shall we take this somewhere more comfortable?"

It was a miracle that Mammon did not die on the spot. Instead, he let Barbatos lead him out of the kitchen. When Little D No 2 returned in search of his boss, he found nothing but two cold cups of expensive tea and a pair of yellow tinted sunglasses.

worth it part two | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[karlachismylife]

Me: scrambling to finish homework before my linear algebra class

My brain: can you imagine fem!ghoap tho?

I can't, I'm my biggest fucking enemy. BUT CAN YOU IMAGINE FEM!GHOAP THO?

Fem!Soap has absolutely Harley Quinn vibes, batshit crazy with a sprinkle of pyromania and several decades of unmedicated ADHD. If Soap got his haircut inspiration from some local punk band in his hometown, fem!Soap was the leader of said band, adding to Mam's grey hair every time she returned with new tattoos. Was playing football, when a new kid tried outcasting her cuz she's a girl, went on to beat the shit out of him.

That story about a higher ranking officer Soap punched? Sleazy motherfucker was harassing other women on the base and was unfortunate enough to choose fem!Soap as a target.

Walks around in tank tops and sport bras, all muscle no boobs, probably has a couple fake teeth, always is the one fellow female soldiers turn to when they need to get rid of assholes in the pubs they go for drinks to. Absolutely relishes in being called a "fucking butch" and whatever else those pathetic men try to throw at her, quickly fizzling out when they realize her biceps is the size of their thighs. She worked hard to be better than them, no matter how much some of her family wanted her to be a bit more... traditional. Not her Maw, though, Maw always said if her little Jenny wanted to be a soldier, she could be a damn good one.

Regularly participates in armrestling matches (banned in several pubs where she got carried away and broke someone's wrist) and pays for the round whenever she wins.

All those girls (and some guys) hanging off her elbows, and everyone assumes she's going home with one (or several) of them every time.

And fem!Ghost? She might have a horrible reputation, people spreading disgusting rumors about her past and what's under that mask (doesn't bother her, truth is so much more gruesome). Keeps to herself, grim sense of humour doing nothing to make her seem more approachable. A looming shadow, the personification of horrors they tell about what war and captivity do to women - and that's for those who actually know she's a woman. Most people just assume she's a big fucking guy, loose hoodies helping pass, deep, hoarse voice - never came back as it was from the time with Roba, broken by her screams with an ugly scar on her throat on top - only adding to confusion.

Too much baggage to unpack, all those things done to her easier to cut off with the dirty blond hair she buzzes to avoid the fuss. Every chance of having a family robbed of her in horrific ways, loneliness feels safer. Easier. Everyone's better off without needing to bear all those tons of crap she hoards on her broad shoulders.

Sits apart from the main company on those outings, nursing her bourbon and freaking people out - if she gets hit on, she sends everyone off with a few words. Even Soap, the blasting (sometimes too bloody brightly) sunshine, seems to fail with illuminating that shadow, all her attempts to get closer shut down. Maybe not as harsh as the others, but Ghost thinks - everything she touches is destroyed in torturous ways.

Soap shouldn't suffer because of her.

Until one day the chair in front of her lone table gets dragged back with a disgusting screeching sound, a heavy thump signaling of a huge (drunk) body plopping down across. Ghost doesn't need to look up - she can detect Soap by the stupid mutt's loud breathing, for fuck's sake. How many did she have?

Too many, thinks Ghost when a tanned arm lands on the table, resting on the elbow in a ready to wrestle stand. Must've been some kind of bet, no one else brave enough to challange big Scottish butch - so bored Soap, naturally, comes to one person she probably deems a worthy opponent.

"Not gonna let me back out, are ya?" Ghost shakes her head with a chuckle and finishes her bourbon, putting the glass down lazily and forgetting to pull the mask back down.

Soap's arm hits the table so hard it nearly cracks the wood - mere seconds.

Disarmed by a crooked, scarred smirk her big blue eyes are so obviously glued to.

"What now? Buy me a drink?" Ghost tilts her head. There's a shocked crowd around them, someone collecting a hefty win.

"Buy ye two and ye owe me a rematch."

Stupid mutt with blue eyes. Ghost wonders if she'll whine like a puppy riding her burly thigh.

i have somewhat a part two here

[vividzzxz]

⋆ 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 ⋆

⋆ Pairing: idol!Hongjoong x f!reader.

⋆ Genre: Smut (With a tiniest... okay maybe no plot at all?...)

⋆ Warnings: Mutual Masturbation, Video call.

⋆ Word Count: 1.1k

You feel yourself becoming increasingly bored while assembling the puzzle you purchased a while ago. It was quite tedious to assemble on your own. You were always upset that the puzzle pieces were missing, despite the fact that they were right in front of you. You finally decide to take a shower before heading to bed.

You feel lonely as you settle down on your bed and draw the comforter over you. You longed for your boyfriend's touch and wanted him to be with you. It was pointless because you knew he was an idol and wouldn't be present all the time because they were on tour, practicing, and performing at variety shows.

This time was different, they had left for a global tour about three months ago and still hadn't returned. You were bored staying at home alone. Just looking at your partner and marveling over his physique made you want to touch yourself. It was even worse because you were ovulating and your hormones were screwing you around.

Your phone rings when you're deep in thought. You come back to reality and pick it up to see Hongjoong. He was video calling you late at night. You pick up and give your best smile. "Hello, Joongie."

He looks at you with a pout and says, "I miss you.." You smile warmly, "I do too, but there's nothing you can do about it.."

He smirks at you and says, "There is something you can do about it.." You lift your brow and question, "What is it??"

"I wanna to watch you touch yourself. "Fuck yourself dumb with your fingers." Your heart races at Hongjoong's bold request. The combination of longing and excitement floods your body, momentarily overpowering the boredom that had consumed you earlier. You glanced at him with wide eyes, a blush crawling up your cheeks. You speak slightly above a whisper. "I- But you'll have to lead. Tell me what to do."

He nods. "Keep your laptop in front of you and undress first." You blush and feel flustered doing this in front of a screen. You put your laptop on the bed and undress. "Fuck, you're so hot. "I wish I could've been there." Your breath hitched, but you couldn't wait any longer. You sit comfortably in front of your laptop with your legs open, giving Hongjoong a clear view of your wet pussy.

Hongjoong whispers a short "fuck" and moves closer to the screen to get a better view."You're already so wet, it'll be easy to slip your fingers in. Now be a good girl and spit on your fingers like you always do."You obey him, putting your fingers in your mouth and sucking on it before removing them with a "pop" sound and dropping your spit on it. "Mhm~ That's it. Now slowly slide your fingers in and fuck yourself senseless."

Slowly pushing your index and middle finger into your sobbing hole, you moan feeling the delicious stretch of your pussy. "Mhm~~ Joongie, S-so good", you moan while thrusting your fingers in and out of your pussy. Hongjoong whispers "I know baby. I know it feels so fucking good. I think I might cum untouched just by watching you like this." You speed up your fingers while leaning your head back on the headboard. You moan louder and louder, your hips jerking up to meet your fingers. You feel the coil in your stomach tighten, threatening to burst any moment.

"Joongie- Baby I can't-", You moan loudly. "Let go.. Cum for me baby.. Lemme see you cum all over your fingers.", Hongjoong encourages you. Your fingers feel numb from all the friction, but it doesn't matter to you, pleasure overcoming all the numbness. "Fu-fuck Joong-", Your fingers stop knuckles-deep in your pussy as the coil in your stomach bursts. You moan loudly as your cum drips down your fingers and onto the sheets beneath you.

As you catch your breath, Hongjoong's voice breaks the silence once again "There ya go." Hongjoong smirks "Now suck your cum off your fingers and you'll get your reward once I'm back." You smile before pulling your finger out and sucking it clean. "Good girl. I wish I could be there with you, but for now, this will have to do." A smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and you respond softly, "Thank you for making this distance feel a little less lonely, Joongie."

As the call ends, you curl up under the comforter, a newfound sense of contentment washes over you. Until the day you can be in each other's arms again, moments like these will continue to bridge the gap between you, filling your nights with passion and desire.

✧( ु•⌄• )◞*◟( •⌄• ू )✧

-Note

I take requests for writing...

It can be from Skz, Svt, TxT, En-.

It can be based on smut, fluff, etc.

[wileys-russo]

can we have a ficlet for camp champ for niamh please

camp champ ficlet

"niamy! niamy! niamhy!"

"oh no." you winced knowing exactly what those chants would be for, burying your face in millies shoulder as she patted your head. "watch out! crazy legs is on the dance floor again." the blonde laughed as you dared to sneak a peek and groaned.

"who lets her do this? who tells her its a good idea? why encourage her?" you shook your head, downing your drink making millie laugh even louder. "everyone! cause she's fucking hilarious." the girl shrugged honestly as you playfully punched her shoulder.

"oi! ya missus wants ya." ella collapsed next to you with a grin and a wiggle of her eyebrows, everyone having a drink and a dance to celebrate the semi final win over australia earlier this evening.

"sorry tooney i'm single for tonight, crazy legs is not my girlfriend." you shook your head again more firmly, stealing millies drink as the taller girl pinched your leg and strode off to find a refill. "crazy legs is the best!" ella laughed clapping you on the back.

your girlfriends nickname stemmed from the way that her limbs seemed to refuse to function normally when she was drunk. combine that with the passion she seemed to have for cutting a move on the dance floor and the way she would erratically spasm and wiggle her body lead to grave embarrassment for you and endless amusement for everyone else.

you'd known crazy legs for far longer than anyone else, having babysat her at many parties or bore witness to her shenanigans late night in your shared living room after a wine filled date night or family dinner.

"baby!" speak of the devil and the devil shall appear, ella scurrying off as niamh stumbled her way over.

"hi love." you couldn't help but grin as she danced her way toward you, still encouraged on by your team mates as you bit your bottom lip. "do ya find this sexy? this is my love dance." niamh slurred swinging her body around as you covered your mouth with your hand.

"i think its time for some water niamhy." you quickly stood to grab her as she stumbled, tripping herself over as she let out a loud boom of laughter and you struggled to keep her taller form upright. "nooo babe don't be a buzzkill!" the defender groaned.

"dance floors looking lonely charles!" at that she was back up and out of your arms, trapping your hand in hers as she pulled you with her despite your protests.

"niamh no!" you laughed as she dragged you with her, pulling you now into her arms as she swayed and swung her body around, hanging onto you somewhat restricting her normal flailing about as the music pumped around you.

"niamh!" you yelped as she dipped you, letting go of you as lotte hurried to save you from falling, your girlfriend smiling guiltily as you were back on your feet.

"you can't stay mad at this baby, look!" niamh swung her arms around, looking more like a chicken than a footballer as her legs kicked and bent, the small crowd around roared with laughter only spurring her on further.

the chant of crazy legs echoed around you as the song ended and niamh struck a pose as you covered your mouth with your hand and a shake of your head.

that was after all, the love of your life.

[depressopax]

HII could you maybe write something for Berlin like HCs being in a relationship with him, maybe with connections to the new show or sm.

(Im actually so glad I found someone who writes for this fandom bc there’s literally no one nearly 😭)

Berlin - Relationship headcanons

Thank you for the request!! <3 I'm happy to see more LCDP fans here omg 😭 Hope ya like it! :)

Smut version can be found here

Pairing: Berlin/Andrés de Fonollosa x gn!reader Genre: Fluff, headcanons Warning(s): Spoilers for LCDP. Cuss words, Berlin being a bit possessive, reader uses they/them pronouns Words: 1145 Summary: Being in a relationship with Berlin would include…  English is not my first language - lmk if there's any spelling mistakes so I can improve my writing! &lt;3

Being in a relationship with this man would be a roller-coaster of emotions…

But you can’t really complain!

People see him as “cold and self-centered”, which is partially true.

BUT when he’s in love, it’s like his whole personality changes.

You are his whole world, and he will do everything to put his ego aside, and show you just how loving he can be.

And boy, he succeeds… 

When he first saw you, it was love at first sight, or at least for him.

He would find out everything about you, what you like to eat, what hobbies you have, and the places you like to be at.

He would just wait for you to approach him first, but it wasn’t that easy…

After a while, he stopped being stubborn and started talking to you.

Berlin would make sure you fall for him, and that would be his biggest goal.

He would take you on extraordinary dates and totally spoil you.

He prefers calm private dates, but wouldn’t mind going to a bar/nightclub if you like that.

Despite his sophisticated looks, he knows how to party. (That one scene in Berlin when he’s at the punk club LMAOO)

Seeing you hyped up makes him happy, so how can he not love partying with you?

The two of you having lazy mornings together. Berlin is a night owl, and getting him out of bed in the morning is a challenge.

He’ll also never let you leave bed. - “Just 5 more minutes, love! - “Are you gonna leave me, all cold and lonely in bed, huh?”

Berlin wouldn’t give up his flirting until you fall in love with him. 

Once that happens - he won’t shut up about you

Like, EVER.

He would drive Sergio and his other friends insane with how much he talks about you, telling them a bit too much about his love life… 

Berlin is the cheesiest guy you’ll ever meet, tbh.

And he takes that as a compliment.

He would write you love letters, send good-morning AND goodnight messages to you, and bring you flowers every now and then. 

Berlin is a man with many talents, and he loves impressing you, especially with his singing

Cheesy as it sounds, he even sings you serenades to express his love and devotion.

You’d have to put up with his weird and impulsive ideas.

Whether it’s planning a spontaneous trip, a heist, etc…

He needs someone to tell him to calm the hell down lol

As seen in the show, Berlin is very passionate and a bit unpredictable.

Being in a relationship is no exception.

Everyday with him is like an adventure, and he knows how to spice things up to not end up like a “boring couple”. 

His goal would be making sure the honeymoon phase never ends. 

He would make sure to tell you how amazing and good-looking you are EVERYDAY. 

He is not afraid to argue with you, but would rather admit he is “wrong” rather than have you be mad at him for too long. 

He’s not always good at reading your emotions and knows what you’re feeling, but tries to. 

It breaks his heart to see you upset, and will try to make you feel better. 

He can be rather possessive too. If someone stares at you for a bit too long, or flirt with you, he’s not afraid to show them that “you are his”.

He’s extra protective of you when you are around his friends. He wants to make sure you feel safe, and also that no one tries hitting on you…

Especially if you are shy, he’d be very close to you, smile at you when you talk and laugh extra loud if you say something funny. 

He makes sure your friends like him. 

He wants to make a good impression on everyone, but especially when it is your friends and family. 

Big fan of PDA. He’s a man that is not afraid to kiss you in public, and he practically never lets go of your hand when you’re outdoors together.��

When cuddling, he prefers being the big spoon. 

One of Berlin’s love languages is touch.

He enjoys having his hand on your thigh, giving your shoulders soft massages, and forehead kisses. He’s the type of guy to kiss your hands, too.

If you have long hair, he tends to fidget with it, running his fingers through it, stroking it away from your face and even braiding it.

Berlin definitely treats you like a god/goddess. 

But the relationship would also be challenging from time to time.

Berlin being a criminal does bother you.

Your fear is for him to get caught and end up in jail.

He’d have to reassure you a lot that he won’t get caught, promising you that he will be fine.

But don’t worry, he makes sure to keep that promise. 

His pet names for you: (My) love, honey, babe… 

His phone is full with pictures of you and you’re definitely both his home- and lock-screen. 

He has lots of money, and spends them on you, whether you like it or not. 

Berlin enjoys luxury and wants to give you a luxurious life.

His dream is to travel and see the world with you by his side.

If you don’t speak Spanish, he would offer to teach it to you. 

He is very overprotective and makes sure you keep a distance from his work. 

But he does enjoy impressing you with dramatic stories about his heists.

During his most difficult and dangerous heists, he will think of you and keep on fighting so he can come back home to you. 

When he’s away for a longer time, Berlin makes sure to text and call you with regular updates. But in all honesty, he just misses your voice.

Like I said earlier, he is an unpredictable man, and if someone is mean to you, yikes… - “Just drop it, Andrés!” “No, babe… I’ll have a ‘chat’ with them…”

Remember the throwback scene of Berlin and the man that made fun of his bow tie? 

Let’s just say, whoever insulted you will return to you and apologize, trembling and crying from pain and fright.  

…Berlin would just return to you with a smug smile, pretending like nothing happened… 

And act all clueless when you confront him about it. 

With you, Berlin is soft and passionate, but others view him as your “scary boyfriend”, a title he accepts with pride. 

To summarize… Despite Berlin's cold exterior, he is the complete opposite with you. He has so much love to give, and isn’t scared to do so. He will make sure to worship you and make sure you feel loved. All he wants is to spend his time with you, and give you the passion, excitement and devotion you deserve. Being together with him is definitely not boring.

I have such hate-love relationship to Berlin bruh 😭 Andrés in Berlin >>>>>>> LCDP

[candy616]

Souvenir from the Battlefield 💖

~Phillip Graves x fem!Reader~

❌NSFW ❌ MDNI ❌

I wrote it because you asked me, love @xxavengingangelxx 💖 I'm sorry it's a pure disappointment though.

Y'all are invited to witness my embarrassment of a work. @bellgraves 💖 @rekakamado 💖 @phillip-graves-wife 💖 Please feel free to ignore even if I tagged you, my lovelies.

Warnings: An extremely UNSATISFYING (you've been warned) smut scene, a poor writing of a fifth grade, unsafe knife play (don't try this at home plz), not exactly about a knife play though, I don't know what is it all about to be honest… huh.. Slice of life maybe? I'm no Milton, but this isn't Paradise Lost either. Please don't throw stones at me. I wrote this instead of sleeping haha.

You've been dating for almost a year now, but you still lived in his penthouse that Graves barely could call a home before you appeared in his life and made this place much cozier. Before you've met, he practically lived in HQ, bases and hotels all over the world, not thinking much about having his own place. His place has always been on the battlefield. Graves didn't even have any hobbies, his passion laid only for one thing: making a difference in the world. And he was damn good at it. But being the Number One comes with price - he could never feel at home anywhere. Yes, Shadows were his home, but it was different... Until he met You. You changed his life completely. He found himself craving for more than battles, he started to want his own family, his own home. And You became that home for him. You've planned to buy a huge house, a mansion maybe, somewhere far away from city. A sweet secret place just for the two of you. But this was a rough and busy year. The war was everywhere, no rest for the wicked. And less he could do for now is trying to get home as soon as possible every time. Just like today.

Another quiet, lonely evening, you were sitting on the couch, wearing your nightgown, almost ready to go to sleep, staring at your laptop, mind absorbed with your boring work routine, trying not to think that you have to live without your ridiculously handsome bf for three days more, unable to even contact him this time due to the mission. You were so frustrated and immersed in the screen, you didn't hear someone approaching from behind.

“Honey, I'm home...” His hands were on your shoulders.

You shrieked and jumped, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Phil?! What the Hell?! I thought you are returning only in three days! Why didn't you call me? I would have greeted you properly! God, love... You scared me to death but I'm so happy you are home!” You immediately threw your arms around him, embracing him tightly.

He chuckled hearing your excited babble.

“Sorry, babe. I couldn't call. I came to ya as soon as I could. Besides, ya've been complaining 'bout the lack of excitement, so I thought I could deliver." He grinned, revealing his adorable little fangs. You let out a small, infatuated sigh and leaned into him. His eyes darkened, and he grunted, pulling you closer with his strong arms, holding you tightly in a bear like hug. He leaned in and began kissing you passionately, devouring your mouth as if he were a man starving, making you melt immediately and completely. He kissed you for a few minutes, filling your mouth with his tongue and saliva, not willing to let you go. Eventually, he sighed and loosened his grip, gazing into your eyes and gently stroking your hair. "Damn, babe, I missed ya so bad." His arms squeezed you tightly as he held you close.

“I missed you more... I wish you'd never leave me ever again.” You looked at him and noticed how pale his face was. He looked extremely exhausted. “Jeez, Phil, you need rest. Now.” You took his hand and led him to the couch, making him to sit down.

“Yes, ma'am.” He plopped down heavily on the sofa, leaned back, closed his eyes, stretched out his legs and sighed. You stroked his cheek affectionately, looking at him with love and sympathy. Your poor man deserved a vacation.

“What would you like to eat, love? We have everything you like.” You asked, already pouring him a glass of favorite, extremely expensive whiskey.

“I'm not hungry, sweetie. Well, 'cept for ya, as always.” He grinned showing his fangs again, making you want to drop everything and just take him. But you contained yourself and continued pouring whiskey, wanting to add some ice. “No, no. No ice, sugar, give it to me.” You handed him the glass and he downed it in one gulp.

“Wow... That tough?”

“Ya have no idea, sweetheart” He smirked, returning the glass to you for another one. “Well, I had t' push myself a li'l harder t' return to ya sooner. Definitely worth it.”

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you, love. But I don't want you to exhaust yourself like this...” you gave him another glass, this time with ice.

“So, ya sayin' I shouldn't come back sooner?” He takes a sip and looks at you slyly.

“What? No! You know I didn't mean it like that.”

“'Course, I know, darlin'. C'mere.” He pulled you to sit on his lap and kissed your forehead. You put your hands around his neck and started to kiss his cheek, going down to his jaw and neck, ending on his ear. You bit it and licked it, listening to his satisfied groans and feeling his hands roaming around your body, groping your butt and pulling you closer. You whined softly, nibbling on his ear harder.

“You smell like war.”

“Yeah, sorry, doll, I haven’t changed, went straight home.”

“No, I love it...”

“Ya love it, huh?” He smiled amused and, suddenly you felt something cold against the back of your neck.

“Don't move, sweetheart.”

“Phil...? What are you doing?” You froze, a bit confused.

“Just don't move, hon, alright? Ya wanted a bit of excitement, so I’m gonna give ya some. I'm just playing with ya. You trust me, right?” The tip of his combat knife started to trace down your neck, grazing your skin slightly, not breaking it.

“Of course, I trust you, love. Always. But... Are you going to cut me?”

“Ha! Cut ya? Never. I'd rather cut off my arm than hurt ya, sugar. I'm getting off on the blood of my enemies, ya know me. But seeing my sweet little girl bleed would be such a turn off. So, no, I'm not gonna cut ya, sweetheart.” He started to cut the back of your nightgown to trace your spine down further, giving you goosebumps and you shivered slightly. He stopped and put away the blade.

“Shh... I said don't move, darlin'. Not even the slightest. This thing here is extremely sharp. Don't go makin' me sad, and hold perfectly still, ya hear?” He kissed your forehead again and waited for you to nod. You relaxed your body leaning against him completely.

“Good girl.” He continued to move the knife down your spine, ripping your nightgown and pressing your body tightly to his chest with the other hand. You shut your eyes, trying to hold your breath.

“What if I want you to cut me?”

“Ah-ah. No way, sweetheart. I won't do it, even if ya beg me... Though, I'd like t'hear ya beg right now. C'mon, sugar, beg me.”

“Please...” You whined.

“Please what, sweetheart?”

“Please, love me, Phil.”

He growled loudly.

“My fucking God, baby girl. What are ya doin' to me…” He grabbed you and lifted you, turning you around, your back pressed against his chest now. One hand was around your neck, holding you gently but firmly, the other was pulling up the edge of your nightgown, his fingers caressed your abdomen lightly, slowly going down. His mouth pressed against your ear, the hot breath burns your skin, making your squirm, as he whispered.

“Oh, I'll love ya. I'll love ya so fuckin' good, baby girl.” His fingers started to stroke you slowly.

“My, my, ya're so wet for me, babe...”

You let out a loud moan, quickly covering your mouth with your hand.

“Oh, no, no, no, my darlin'. Lemme hear every sweet sound ya make...” He removed your hand from your face.

“On second thought, ya know what? Suck on it. Like a good girl, c'mon.” He put two fingers in your mouth and you started to lick and suck on it, making him growl.

“Fuck, hon, what a good, obedient girl I have here, huh? Good sweet thing...” You leaned back on him, whimpering and melting while he was stroking you with one hand and making you suck on his fingers with the other. He hadn’t touch you for two months so you were absolutely ecstatic right now, moaning loudly, your eyes rolled back.

“Good girl, good girl, my good little thing...” He stopped stroking you for a moment, shifting his hand to open up the zipper of his jeans and pull out his hard shaft. He started to grind between your butt cheeks, continuing to stroke your hot wet spot. Your breath hitched when he slid his thick finger into your core firmly and start to move it, caressing you inside. You moaned louder as he stretched you, adding the second and the third fingers, praising you, kissing your temple tenderly, his other hand groping and feeling your breasts, pinching your nipples occasionally.

“Alright, now...” He lifted you slightly and guided his length inside you, making you sit on him offhand with one swift motion. You whined and started wreathing, but he stopped you.

“No, no, sweetheart, don't you move. Stay perfectly still for me. Stay good girl for Daddy, yeah?” He held you firmly with his arm, and taking the knife again. “Now, I want ya not to move an inch, or we'll stop this. Understood?”

“Yes, love.” You whispered, out of breath.

“Don't hear ya, darlin”

“Yes, Daddy” You said louder.

“Atta girl, sweetheart.” He kissed your temple again and opened your legs wider with his knees. You both panted, moaned and sighed with every little motion of your bodies.

“Mmm... What a perfect bod ya got here, sugar. Real nice and soft, so ready for me... Close yer eyes, darlin” He murmured seductively and pressed the blade to your stomach carefully, starting to trace it slowly down your sensitive skin. You held your breath, trying not to move, as soft, muffled moans escaped your mouth.

“Do ya feel it, sweetheart? Do ya feel my hard love inside and outside? All over ya, hm? Ya like it? Ya like it, my darlin'?” The blade started to trace your inner thighs so slowly and teasingly, making it almost impossible for you to not flinch, but you managed to stay still.

“Say it.” His now rough demanding tone forced your mushed brain to focus on his voice.

“Yes, ah... Yes, I love it so much!” You whined in reply.

“My good girl.” He caressed your cheek tenderly. "Oh, my, babe, what a mess, what a perfect girl for me...”

You looked down and saw an embarrassing sticky puddle leaking from you. The sight of it made you even hotter, shutting your brain down completely. You closed your eyes again, feeling his left hand holding you across your body steadily, and his right hand slowly dragging the knife along your breasts now.

“That's right, love, ya're so good for me. Keep staying still, don't want to hurt ya even a bit. So good for me, my girl.” He grunted, bringing the knife to your neck and pressing the flat of the blade slightly against your throat. You held your breath and froze completely.

“Now. Do ya wanna say something to me, sugar?” He kissed the crook of your neck, sill pressing the blade gently. You moaned and took a deep breath.

“I love you, Phil. I love you so much.” You whined needlingly.

“Fuck, babe... I love ya more. Ya're my whole damn world, ya hear?” He took away the knife and lifted you up rapidly. His shaft slid out of you with a loud squelching sound and you let out the dirtiest moan possible. He grunted and laid you down on the couch, getting on top of you immediately. “I'm going to fuck ya so nice, babe, ya won't be able to walk for good two weeks.” He growled right in your ear, crushing you under him and nuzzling your neck. Then he stopped, his breath hot on your skin.

“Phil…? Love?” He didn't answer. “Honey...?” The only response was the sound of his calm, deep breathing. You turned your head and looked at him. Your poor exhausted love was sleeping soundly. You chuckled and hugged him tightly, letting him sleep on top of you. “Goodnight, love.” You kissed his cheek and closed your eyes. He mumbled something making you laugh a bit. You kissed the scar on his other cheek and fell asleep peacefully, your arms around him.

…………………………………………….

P.S.: Graves woke up in the middle of the night, extremely horny and fucked you silly, cumming inside you and making you cum for 3 timed in a row. Then he lifted you up from the couch and brought you to your bedroom, fucking you again in your bed. You both fall asleep in each other's arms, completely drained but satisfied. You woke up in the afternoon and took a shower together, trying hard not to start fucking again. One of the Shadow security detail brought you breakfast in bed. You were naked, covered with only a thin blanked. Both the Shadow and you were embarrassed, while Graves were grinning slyly. What a lovely bastard :c

🌸The End🌸 

[serxinns]

Hey it’s lil ol me 🤭

And I was wondering if you could do a Yandere pro hero 1A class with a civilian reader (Like reader and the 1A pro hero are like 26 or 27) and civilian reader is like a loser even at their old age is still treated like a nobody and lonely 😔 and single

Love ya, Swirly 🫰

Let's just say they'll be scooping you off the street like a wounded stray cat and mf SPOIL you

You were just walking to your boring dead-end job you didn't have time for your looks, clothing, and body due to you being burnt out and stuff you wanted to be a hero but your toxic parents forbid you to even tho you had a potential quirk but your parents would punish you by loclimg you away with no food whikemyour siblings were spoiled

For the past 16 years, they began pushing you to do a lot of house chores and work, taking care of your siblings even if most were older and could simply take care of themselves until you finally ran away, deciding to get a job at 17 and a crappy apartment at 19 and now you're here 26 years old alone in a crappy apartment watching how heroes get praised and worshipped with their good deeds while you get ignored and werid stares at your workplace and some even make mean comments about you then going home doing the same thing rotting away

But one day you were on your way to work you bumped into a short brown-haired girl making her drop her papers everywhere "I'm sorry!" You frantically tried to pick up her files stacking them needly and in the order while everyone was in shocked whispering to each other even surprised by your appearance, you quickly handed them to her bowing your head, and quickly walked away to avoid any more trouble, "Wait!" The girl ran up to you and grabbed you by the shoulder you quickly turned to her realizing who she was,

there was uravity in her hero Costume brightly smiling at you you quickly blushed when you saw her she was one of your favorite heroes You had some of her merch you admired her bravery and battle techniques "Can you tell me where the (company name) is? I promise to meet them to make a deal about something!" "Oh, it's actually where I-I worked at i can give you the directions of where it is" the pro hero smiled brightly again "Oh thank you so much!" She said lightly hugging you which you said thanks and looked away still blushing a bit

While you were explaining the directions Ochako even wasn't paying attention but admiring how pretty your face was up close observing each and everything about it like it was an important life lesson

"Hey, why don't I drive you to work? For helping me out with so much plus I dont want you to suffocate on the train" she asked while other people stared at you with jealousy, rage, and envy, you gulped "n-no I'm good I'm used to taking the train and I don't wanna waste anymore of your time" "Oh no I insist really! Come on! We don't wanna be late! She didn't wait for your answer just pulled you into her car and quickly drove away

while driving the two of you got to know each other, well mostly you telling her about your interests and her happily listening to them and making sure to list them down heck she managed to get you to exchange each other's phone numbers! And the 2 of you parted ways

Ever since you met the pro hero you got so much closer than ever Ochako would spam text you to see if you were ok or fed she would buy you some of your favorite foods and when you asked to pay her back she kindly declined after all she just wants to spoil you during as days turn to weeks she started to develop an unhealthy obsession with you and her colleagues aka other pro hero's started to notice as well especially with her usual behavior

So one day Momo decided to go walk with Momo even tho Ochako seemed bitter about it and kept making excuses Momo didn't back down when the two ladies arrived at your workplace everyone else was squealing, running to get an autograph, or trying to get a casual conversation with them but they ignore it there momo saw you busy with files and not minding the chaos happing in front of you, you looked look precious, so adorable little thing, she just wanted to spoil you rotten,

As the days pass you and Momo coincidently met and start getting along and Momo becomes friends quickly you then meet with the whole pro heroes at the time spending time with each of them obliviously unaware of their jealously and envy towards each other trying to piss each other off with different ways to spend time with you

Like Ochako your best friend was dragging you to all sorts of stores buying you skincare accessories and giving you a glow-up altogether and after all that she offered you her merch that you love whenever the two of you made eye contact she felt like she just wanna fly you up to the moon and have a romantic picnic with just of the Two of you she would invite you to spas to make your skin glow brighter then it used to be

Momo would invite you to little tea parties in expensive fancy areas with cute animals to smother up while you eat your treats and would occasionally sneak a pic or two while you weren't watching so she could add that to her collection, she always dreamed of you purposing to her with any kind of ring and she's head over heels she just wanna tied you up and with force dress you up in your wedding outfit while she's buy the most poofy expensive wedding dress and marry you

Izuku and (mostly Shoto) Shoto was a quiet and monotone guy who liked talking about his books his favorite is polar bears and would show them off to you while giving you interesting facts about them, seeing your face focus on him and what he has to say warms his heart a lot and imagines the two getting married and having a baby pet polar bear together, He would take you to expensive areas you to expensive areas or buying you many outfits for yourself or your fashion choice and would flustered himself when you showed it off to him making his desire for you grow

izuku was a nice and talkative guy who just wanna spend time with you even if it'd awkward he was always there to make it less awkward and more fun, he liked to take you to Little Ice Cream thinking they were little dates just him and you sharing each other's ice cream holding hands then tasting the ice cream on his lips-, he started to get flustered just the thought of it! But don't let the gentle giant fool you he's easily jealous and very clingy, especially with Bakugo and his little mutt Kirishima

Bakugo on the other hand at 1st you thought he hated you because of his brash and easily-tempered personality but you then kinda realized that he does like you.. or keep you around since he always never leaves you alone like a love-and-hate relationship it's complicated cause at 1st he would make fun of how skinny your body is and then he brought you some of your favorite lunch in your favorite color bento which was sweet? The two of you had got your ways of getting along with each other

Kirishima on the other hand is the opposite he is your number one go-to when you need encouragement he would at times take you for a woke or train filling you with praises every here and then and making sure you drink plenty of water and giving you cute little nicknames like precious or crystal cause if he's a tough rock you a crystal sharp and shining bright! He would call you any time of crystal he can know! But he and bakugo can be VERY VERY protective especially when it comes to what's there's if anyone even look at your way its 6 feet under or black mail

Izuku and Shoto and Bakugo and Kirishima would try showing off to you by showing off their quirks when you're in the public crowd cheering for them a bit making their heart race a bit knowing their darling is right there admiring a show they're putting on for you~

Next is Sero he's a sly slick dude with a dirty mind whenever you say something he will pull a "that's what she said joke" every chance he can get, he sometimes gives you private Spanish lessons which he would put you on his lap while he teaches you a few things and also whispering little Spanish nicknames he came up with whikenyounwere just sweating in embrassment "Carino" "amor", "corazon" some words you didn't understand but he did and those were wishes and promises that was gonna make once he have you all to his self you were his Vida mia

Mina was your logical party girl always driving in her hot pink Ferrari honking impatiently while you literally glared at her in the window while saying "Get in loser we're gonna make your boring life fun!" She would drive you around and drag you to lots of wild and sometimes fun activities like skydiving!... Well maybe cross that one out since you a lost lost your soul that day

Iida is a MAJOR protector he makes sure he flexes his skills but keeps you a safe distance if he sees you in some danger you bet your ass will be picked up princess style and carried away somewhere safe and far away from Danger other than that he's genuinely a nice and interesting guy always praises you for everything he does like a proud dad friend he admires your determination of wanting to be a hero but Is worried for your safety at times

Tsuyu is quiet and patient when with you while everyone is either rambunctious, crazy, or even acting obsessive and possessive over you tsuyu and Jirou try to act the most normal out of them so they can get closer to you whenever those start to go too far but they want you just as bad as they do they just dont wanna admit it Jirou would make you try out some instruments see which one you'll like and was surprised when you tried out that particular instrument lets say the two of you jammed all day singing songs and making covers and the fall asleep to Romance calm music Tsuyu on the other hand love to take you to calm and quiet hot tubs or tropical places

Ojiro Tokoyami and Koda all teamed up together as well with Ojiro being the flirt and also trying to compete with Kirishima and Shoji of who can be the most powerful while Koda loves to talk about all the facts about animals and teaches a thing or two how to handle him the sight of you laying with a sleeping deer makes him die of happiness and takoyaki is quite fond of you he's quiet and nice but he can be a bit creepy at times always looming over you like a shadow while you and dark shadow make jokes and start funny conversations

They would eventually convince you to quit your job and let you work at their agencies to be close to you or heck even worse as one of their sidekicks when you're gone with you argue over who gets to spend time with you but if they see anyone else other then them sending time with you then be ready cause there's gonna be 19 feral wolf pack coming for you

They were so glad they met you on that street that day ever since you met them you started taking care of yourself and your health letting your true self glow pit of that depressed miserable state! They promise to take care of you as long as they live whether you like it or not~