#there were a lot of new things and a lot of challenges with this set | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

missfrustration · 22 hours ago

Text

sins and sacraments (priest!sanji x succubus!reader 18+ fanfic)

rating: rating: 18+ explicit, minors do not interact!!

tags: pwp, smut, dubcon, rough sex, fingering, priest!sanji, priest au, succubus au, priest kink, trashy as hell, power dynamics, power struggle, biting, scratching, cigarette burning, some blood, bondage, tears, succubus scent and poison, inaccurate catholicism, not so chivalrous sanji

A/n: This is genuinely the craziest shit I've written. dubcon to the max, dont like dont read!!! i drew some fanart for this, dont look at the hand proportions too hard. on ao3 here!

wc: 7.1k

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

This house in the hideaway stow of the county was one of your favorites to live in whenever you liked to find men from the area. Maybe it was the old-money interior and classic oak spaces that made it stick with you. Regardless, it’s always been the perfect place to lure your prey in.

That was until recently.

Some puny humans have ‘bought’ the thing since the last time you’ve left the area, and have destroyed the place beyond anything forgivable. It seems a mortal husband and wife is treating the house like it’s theirs , tearing up all the lovely decorations from older times into disgustingly awful palettes of teal and yellow. Treating your place with such little disregard, talking about how happy they are to get a house and raise their grandchildren within.

You’re a succubus. Obviously, it’s not your style to haunt humans, much yet married couples—playing defense is unheard of for you—but after the first day that you surveyed them, it’s clear that they need to be taken care of. You certainly had some time on your hands, and enough strength from the last set of victims to kill them, but camping around and scaring them away instead was certainly a feat you were willing to challenge.

At first, it started with random things falling over, whenever they weren’t looking, you’d find a vase, a lamp, or even a grandfather clock, that would make enough noise when pushed to irk them. You eventually find out the wife really hates the bumps in the night whenever she is alone. One particular night while the husband was away, you made her so scared she fled to the bedroom and started shivering under blankets for days. The husband would wave his gun around when he suspected something, but they’d never find you fast enough.

They departed a week ago, only hastily packing a couple of suitcases before leaving. Finally, the whole house was abandoned yet again to your ownership. While it’s strange how they didn’t pack anything other than a few clothes and jewelry, the thought of it being anything other than a hasty runaway never occurred to you.

Those were your suspicions up until now. You were lounging around your reclaimed house, wearing one of the missus’s dresses and prancing near the large top-floor window when something caught your eye.

It’s a car from a meager wage that suddenly pulls up on the lot— your lot, the one you’ve put insurance in keeping empty the past couple of weeks—as you watch from the sanded window.

You saunter down the stairs, straightening the pleats of the dress’s yellow skirt, and feeling the role of the clothing’s owner when you open the door.

“Good evening, Father, how may I help you?”

A priest looks into your eyes, smiling so warmly at you. A familiar book in his hand, one with leather worn on the outskirts of the surface and worn on the spine. He wears a priest’s clock with a thick cincture wrapped around a cinched waist, a Roman collar, and a long skinny stole hanging down from around his neck.

This dedicated man of God stands before your devilish domain, yet there’s certainly a need for you to act cordially. Maybe it’s a perverted sense in you to pretend to be an innocent housewife, but a change of pace in getting a new victim is always welcome.

“Father Sanji,” he smiled. “I’ve come on behalf of the church for the family of this house.”

“This is the family you're speaking to.” You say sweetly, clasping your hands together. “What seems to be the problem?”

“I've come upon request to remove a demon lurking in these walls, apparently one that’s been plaguing you since you moved in…” The father cocks his eyebrows at you, looking you up and down. “Surely you must know this?” He says, the smile never falters from his face. His words cause a perfect excuse to fall from your lips in gracious favor.

“Oh, why, of course. My husband loves to tell tall tales, no matter who he wraps up in after it. you’re free to look around, but I’m afraid you won’t find anything.” With a giggle and a twirl of your hand, you feel the posture of Father Sanji standing straighter.

“That's all the permission I needed, madam.”

You step back and open the door wide, allowing the man into your territory. He makes his way to the kitchen quickly when you offer him a cup of coffee.

You’ve never made coffee–you wouldn’t have even found the stuff for it. However, you found it after whisking through a few cabinets with a stroke of luck. The canister labeled ‘ground beans’ had only enough sediment to cover the bottom of the tin.

“Do you mind if I smoke?” Father Sanji asks you by the doorway of the kitchen.

“Usually, I would say no, but you're handsome enough that I’ll let it pass.”

A pause.

“How nice of you.”

He retrieves a pack of cigarettes from his hand, one with a packaging exterior foreign to you. He ceremoniously shakes one before popping it out, taking a match from the matchbox across the kitchen stove, and flicking the flame until the end of the cigarette begins to cherry.

You fiddle with the kitchen’s chunky coffee machine while he’s distracted.

“I take it your husband isn’t home?”

“I’m afraid so,” You say, “he’s been out for business the past couple of weeks, and it’s been so lonely. I’m glad to have some… eye-catching company.” You leave a lingering whine on ‘company,’ eyeing the priest’s presence. He’s more attractive than the others, and certainly more thrilling if you wrap him around your finger just right; not to mention the power you would acquire from his body.

“Is that right…” He trails off. You busy yourself with the machine. In the corner of your eye, the father finds a tray for ash on the counter, flicking the dead end of his cigarette before puffing again.

You ignore his comment. As you finish your business with the coffee machine, you hear the water inside start to bubble. You turn towards him, idly leaning against the counter and arching your back. You meet eyes again.

“Are you sure you're a priest? You look far too handsome for the role.”

Sanji blushes, fidgeting with the buttons of his cloak before clearing his throat.

“I am indeed of the cloth, madam. It is the path that was laid before me.”

You hum to yourself, saying one of your most ill-suited thoughts out loud. “A handsome man like you is wasted on celibacy.”

You let the words on your tongue fall into the quiet air. The priest's demeanor doesn’t change; he stands still momentarily before reigniting his warm smile.

“My beauty is merely a gift from God.” He pauses, looking out the window as he lets his cigarette burn on. “It's the same for all mortals, I would venture.”

He seemed to have added that last thought of his– a very strange thing to say, but priests of this era may be just that.

“If we think on that basis,” You hum, “Life is too short. Perhaps you should live a little.”

He pauses, eyeing you down conspicuously.

“Do you usually flirt with men when your husband’s not around?”

You hide a conniving smile. The coffee starts to brew.

“Depends, does it seem to be working?”

“I would be called a liar if I said no.” He says, absentmindedly blowing the smoke. Your smirk grows.

“Perhaps you should stick around, then.”

You move closer to him, choosing to be in his intimate space as you search his body for cracks–for more hints you’ve gotten under his skin. You run your long, glossy nail from his chest to the seam of his Roman collar before Father Sanji grabs your wrist. You try to move to his neck, planning to scratch the tender flesh, but he gives you no room to do so. The force is unbecoming compared to his gentle voice.

“I think I found what I’ve been looking for.”

“Oh? What would that be, Father?”

He pulls you close, surprisingly gentle, enough to make his soft words clear. The kitchen is silent for a moment, enough to hear the gentle wind outside knock the leaves against the house.

“You wouldn’t happen to be that demon, would you?”

That gentle tone isn’t hiding any more secrets. A wry laugh escapes your lips.

“I didn’t know priests liked jokes so much; otherwise, I think I’d be offended.” You try to gently pry from his grasp, leaving much of your sultry voice to falter. A firmness in his grip doesn’t dissipate, rather, it seems to extend.

“Oh, my dear.” he takes your hand, threading the fingers together with his. “You know what I mean.”

His eyes. They tell you exactly what you need. In the hues of blue and gray flecks, there’s a glint of malice. His lids are low, his lips purse, and a bruising grip on your hand; he knows you’ve been deceiving him.

You yank your hands away with a vigorous strength that disconnects you two, turning your heel to get out of his clutches. However, he’s already behind you, pinning you against the teal counter hard enough to fold you over it. He’s a lot stronger than he looks.

Father Sanji sighs. “See, the family who requested my services by letter is out on vacation, something they had to plan rather hastily, strictly so I could perform the exorcism without additional guests. No one should be in the house except, well, you .”

He’s pinned your arm tight around your back, blowing a puff of smoke behind you. You don’t know if the act caused you to feel dizzy or something else, but you immediately feel uneasy in an instant.

“You may think you were so close to tricking me, but you should do your homework first. If you can’t even find coffee grounds in your family house, don’t offer answers you didn’t prepare for.” He chuckles.

So he saw through that, too.

His soft laugh conjures one of your own. However, the tone colored in your voice is completely distinct from the proper one from earlier.

“Maybe you were feigning ignorance so well earlier, and I suppose I’ve been caught off guard. You certainly have a knack for faking someone so taken by me.” You say.

“It’s against the church to lie, my dear, and you truly are a dearie, so I would prefer for you to leave this house by choice rather than force.”

You cock your head at the last part.

“Force?” You mull over, rather surprised at his little bluff. “I love a challenge; the pain tastes of a sweeter victory.”

“I see. It seems I’ll need to be more physical than I would’ve liked.”

“Oh, you want to dance with death that bad ?” You utter softly at the priest. “I don’t think a mortal like you can play with me .”

“Give me your other arm.”

“Like I’d obey you.” You spit.

“So be it, demon.”

You saw the signs he had something up his sleeve before you can react. Suddenly, you feel a searing hot pain in your back, burning past the cloth of your dress, spreading like wildfire throughout your nerves. An agonized bellow came with the disorientation that followed. You try not to make the sound of pain, yet a very unfeminine grunt leaves you in your wake. In the heat of your agony, Sanji takes your arm and cranks it behind you.

“Did, did you just fucking burn me?” You grunt.

“How rude of me. It seems that a bit of cigarette ash fell off. Some that may also contain-“

“Ugh, that wretched stuff!” You grunt. The inside of your throat felt like a husk and your head felt lighter. “Don’t think you can pull your little game off with your church’s backhand trickery.”

“Palo Santo-infused smoke, but yes.” He deadpans, now securing both wrists behind you. “Now, hold still.”

“As if I’d-!” Before you can move, your wrists strongly bind together. Sanji’s hands fly from your arms to your head, slamming it down on the counter.

“Relax, doll, you don’t stand against rosary beads for a while; the papacy recently blessed them before I got here,” the priest says, tapping the restraint on your wrist. “Now, isn’t this a sight?”

You grunt into the ugly teal marble counter, feeling your pretty body squish into the filth. Is this the stuff humans call luxury? Such degradation of an illustrious spirit like you is unnatural from your male targets—no, unheard of. You crank your head to look at him and see Father Sanji’s face burning his eyes back on you. His palm presses down your head, cheek smushing it into the cool tile.

“This is funny to you?” You rasp at him. “Watching me in pain is entertainment?”

“Absolutely not. This, however?” Sanji points to your now-discovered tail with a smug expression, exposed from the hem of your dress and whipping wildly in the air. “I see that I’ve made an impression.”

“What, that some flakey preacher thinks he has the upper hand?”

“Oh, no. That’s not it at all.” Father Sanji’s tone feels as pleased, almost lighthearted by your exasperation, as he watches your pointed tail strike the air like wildfire. “You love this, don’t you?”

“You must be out of your damned mind, puny lamb.”

“Let me show you what I see.” You feel a firm grasp on your hair, now pulling you back to Sanji as you feel pain aching from the crown of your head. Father Sanji has no time to soften the pressure, pulling your body back to his, yet…

“F-fuck, mmm .” The pain hits you just right. You’re surprised by the whimper coming out of your mouth, from the pain, from his assertive clutch on your hair, and the way he’s lifted half of your body with ease.

“You see? There’s a dirty little devil in here, and she doesn’t seem threatened by me at all.” Father Sanji says this with audible satisfaction in his voice, almost taunting. He took a moment to take a long, crackly exhale of his cigarette. Another puff of smoke is blowing your way, his face so close to your nape that you feel sickened by it. ”Moreso, ready to be defiled .”

Suddenly, his attitude makes sense.

“Oh, so the vile preacher does know what type of demon I am?”

“How could I be called a messenger of the Lord if I don’t know the hysterics of a succubus?”

He’s toying with you. So conniving for the plain church.

“And you think you can just dominate a demon of the night? What a naive thing. You’ll lose your life trying.” You growl.

“Don’t get too cocky.”

He flicks more ash on your tail, causing you to screech and writhe. He uses the opportunity to take it in his hand, wrapping it around in his hands before pulling it back. It flails down and now limps under you. In a panic, you try to move it, yet it’s no use. You don’t feel in control of it anymore; sensation is barely left in it.

“While it’s true your kind gets their power from preying on their male targets, I wonder…” He leans so close that his lips touch your ear. “What would happen if the predator was preyed on, hm?”

With sudden force, you feel teeth bite on the tip of your ear. Hard . The sudden force causes your breath to hitch in euphoria and makes your voice pitch dangerously high. When you realize what he’s done, you writhe against him, yet the hold on your body makes the effort futile.

“Ahh! Please, you honestly don’t believe a little human like you could please a succubus at their own game?” You scoff, yet the hands that hold you don’t falter. Instead, they grip you harder , smushing your face further against the marble.

“Is that a challenge? Even when I know your dirty secret…desperate to finish me off first to keep your powers. But,” he trails off, “if you were to be pleased first, maybe you wouldn’t be so lucky, hm?”

No, there’s no way he knows. He couldn’t possibly know.

“You fucking bastard,” you start to struggle more against his grasp. “Release me this instant.”

“Oh, so is it who gets off first?” He asks, and you freeze. Your response is enough of an answer for him, and you hear a content chuckle from behind you. “And here I was just guessing.”

“How the fuck do you—?” You seethed.

“Language.”

Your back writhes as you feel a burning sensation pressing against your shoulder once again. It graces your flesh fast, and more painful than ever.

“The church educates us after indoctrination,” the priest answers your question. “Ah, but not this part.”

Your skin sears with a hiss as he twists the cigarette below your shoulder blade. The sensation is almost intoxicating, searing through the dress and flooding your body with fiery heat, like a blazing aurora. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth while your head becomes dizzy, but a tongue that feels compelled to let out a string of curses, ones that increase consumption of your flesh.

And the priest chuckles at this, while you wildly fight against the restraints he’s put on you.

“You must learn to control your tongue,” he says, his voice smooth like honey. “You’ve been around for a while, little imp, but I can tell you’ve never faced an actual threat. You could go left and right seducing all the men you want, but you’ve never faced a man of God.”

You don’t even hear him. You don’t want to. Even after the initial sear has subsided, the sharp pain lingered, traveling down your back in a dull ache.

“Men of God inflict pain like this? Please,” you spit. “Is this truly what your god wants, or is that just a flimsy excuse?”

“Ah ah. You don’t need to do that. This is what you’re all about, is it not? Why don’t you give in,” Father Sanji leans in to whisper in your ear, “and let a man make you tremble instead?”

You feel the cool air hit the back of your thighs as your dress skirt yanks up, revealing your naked flesh underneath.

“One that will treat you so well.” He doesn’t sound surprised to see you donning anything underneath that skirt.

Fury pulses through you. If some human spawn thinks he can get away with this, he’ll be sure to regret it.

You found your opportunity. His body was close enough to your back and bounded claws, and you wasted no time scratching him, successfully taking a bit of flesh with it. He hisses sharply and pulls back his arm before you can do more damage.

“Little thing,” he grunts, seeing the blood drip slowly seeping outside the skin and down his forearm. “I know what you just did.”

You cackle with a voice nothing like the one you first spoke to him. It’s more real, more raw, and certainly fitting for who you truly are. You barely notice the painful beads tightening around your hands, consumed by your gratification.

“Oh, it’s nothing special, just a push for you to finish what you started.”

You know even the strongest human men are no match for you after a simple scratch from your poisoned nails. A man once wary of your advances, fearful of committing adultery, always falls to his knees—completely blinded by their passion and lust for a succubus. You know Sanji is feeling the same effects behind you, so it’s surprising the aura he carries feels almost unaffected .

“It’s not a challenge when I was going to in the first place,” his thigh dips between yours, so achingly slow to press against your mound you felt compelled to rip him to shreds, yet the quiver in your plump legs don’t go unnoticed by the Father.

“Let’s see how long the stuffy priest can resist a battle of endurance. I’ll have you dead, drained of your lifeforce, before you know.”

Your neck is craned to see him from behind you, and you see the sight of the handsome blonde sour at your words. Father Sanji gives an experimental, sensual rub of your pussy with his leg muscle, almost testing the waters, yet the stimulation to your pussy is instantly slicking it.

“Your ego precedes you,” The priest grunts, rolling his shoulders back and forth to rid himself of a growing frustration. “Your kind could easily kill a man like me, but you choose the path of lust instead to satiate your hunger.”

When he dives his digits into your pussylips, you can feel how effortlessly your slick eliminates any friction. His fingers easily glide up and down your apex until he breaks past the soft, juicy barriers between your entrance. The rough, warm interior greets his fingers with gusto, pulsing around him like a vice.

“You could’ve cut my head off when you answered the door, or when you lured me into this kitchen,” The priest says, spending no time roughly pumping his fingers into you, thrusting in and out of your slicked hole. “But instead, you want a worldly experience with me? To take my life force and watch me crumble with glee?”

“I can play along with this if you’d like.” You laugh, turning your neck to see his stoic position. You sweeten your voice, fumble your hands against the restraints, as you fake moan against the marble, mocking his energy.

The sound of his moistened palm smacking against your cunt is deliciously filling the room. Maybe from a bumbling idiot, you wouldn’t feel gratified, but from prey as special as him? With deft hands like that, a few burns from that cigarette must’ve damaged your head more than you thought.

“You like it, enough, I see,” Sanji says, pointing at the emergence of your identity resting on the sides of your head.

Yes, the mark of your heritage. When the dance of lust befalls you, your true form seems to come out. To the curve of your hips plumping in size, the hardness of your nipples rubbing the marble table, but above all, the rouge, the rough indentation of horns sprouting past your skull and making their appearance.

You whistle lowly, mocking a false interest.

“Oh, is that supposed to humble me?” You say, voice dripping with disdain. “Think just some foreplay will make me cum like a virgin?”

“Do you think you’re still in control in this situation, demon?” He husks.

“It won’t take long, I would argue,” you drawl. “For you to beg for me, lamb. For my body, my touch, for the sweetness, and tightness of my insides. You’ll worship me like a devoted man you are.”

Your charming voice exhales out, and a sickly sweet scent from your body follows it. One filled with frankincense and amber tones—the scent that brings men to their knees in pleasure. It’s a tactic you pride yourself in as a succubus, one you’re certain will work on him without fail, drawing him irresistibly closer to your body.

His face scrunches up at the last part of your sentence. His gray, pinpoint eyes are focused on your body, taking in your form in its new appearance, smelling the scent. All at once he grips your sides, flipping your body around with reckless abandon. Your back hits the marble forcefully, your wrist painfully colliding before it’s pinned behind. A noise of both aggravation and intrigue releases from your body as you arch yourself. You try to push past the unsavory noise you made, but never have you experienced such force from your prey.

“I enjoy how hard you try despite your current position under me, but,” he states, but you can tell of a new lewd view before you with your body facing his. At the lower region of his priest's cloak, you see the indentation of his cock stirring against the fabric. “You will submit to me, temptress.”

That’s when you see it.

He sheds the skirting of his cloaks wrapped tightly by the long cotton belt cinched around his waist. Underneath, his erection springs out.

Priest Sanji’s length may be too long for your vessel. God dammit, you’re not in control at this point to change that, yet you lick your lips in anticipation of a challenge. The conquest of dominating his body will reap rewards beyond your wildest desires. Your ability to gain such an influx of power from his life source, you wouldn’t need a dilapidated house like this.

You can’t help but smirk, knowing full well that Sanji—his body— is just as impatient as you are. Your agitation about the situation is replaced with the feelings you know too well: the egotistical, maniacal form of lust that courses through your veins.

“That’s more like it.” You purr.

Against the power of a succubus, it seems even he can't resist the allure of your body. Be it the poison of your nails, your scent, or the worldly desires getting to him, his cock seems strained from arousal before you. He presses his erection on your wet apex, rubbing and lubricating himself.

Priest Sanji’s rough entry makes your walls immediately succumb to him. You grunt from the stretch of your hole around his cock, but it doesn’t take long for you to adjust. You were made for this, after all.

“Feel how I fill you, seductress. Take it good, let me feel you flutter well,” he says. “This is just the beginning.”

You feel the urge to give in with his cock tight inside your sleeve, the urge to have him take you like a lass would her lover. Maybe you could enjoy yourself a little. How rare that this man spoke to you in a way that excited you beyond taking him for your meal. His dominating figure and treatment are beyond a sniveling adulterer.

“I didn't know a devil spawn could become so flushed.” He whispers lowly. Like a gravelly wisp, it is quickly replaced by his nails digging into the flesh of your thigh as he hikes the leg up to his face.

Your limber legs split under his grasp with ease. The angle he’s pumping himself into creates an unknown sensation in you. The deepest parts of you fire up from being touched by him, and the insides of your vessel feel jumbled by the sheer size of his member.

“Oh darling, you have no idea what I’m capable of,” you say. You lift your thighs using the weight of your hands pinned under you, bucking up to meet the base of his dick with each thrust, enveloping him deeper, yet deeper, inside of you. “I can show you pleasures beyond your wildest dreams.” The delicious feeling makes your hands wriggle together, the beads etching deeper into your wrists.

“Blessed be thy lips that speak, doll,” the priest taunts, he sweeps your lip with his thumb in a smothering affection.

In annoyance, you bare your teeth, prepared to bite his finger, but instead, he shoves several down your throat, muffling any pretenses you had against his advances. His soft, firm fingers scrape against the ridges of your throat, urging you to gag, but you refuse to give him satisfaction.

Your teeth, tail, and nails could easily poison his flash again, even slash and crush him to ribbons, but injecting more of your lustful poison won’t speed up the process of his arousal taking over if he’s already been exposed. As for killing him…

No, killing him wouldn’t be worth it. Not with this challenge laid before you. The excitement of it. Maybe he’s not as uptight as you would’ve thought, but no mortal human man is a match for your sexual drive. No one has ever been.

You suck on his fingers, latching your mouth around the digits in deficiency, your eyes never leaving his. The priest’s wickedness falters slightly, replaced by something more flustered. His hand tenses, thumb curling to rest against the underside of your jaw, a tenderness juxtaposes his hard cock aggressively thrusting in and out of you. Your hips move together in your bliss.

Any thrusting prey graced within your body has always worked under their lust, their disgusting selfish desires to speed their climax—a decision that you ultimately win from. But this? This isn't the movement of a man chasing his pleasure, but one that wants to slowly unravel you at the core of your being. One who knows your intentions, yet gambles on his cock and body to do his bidding before a demon of the night.

The priest’s hand snakes out of your mouth, and grips the fatness of your hips. He alternates his thrusts into shallow, gentle pecks into your core in reverent, pounding jackhammers on a dime. The pressure that differs between each thrust is dizzying, inconceivably unlike anything you’ve ever felt from squabbling and desperate prey in the past. His violent grip on you drives a relentless, random rhythm that has you gasping for air.

“Ahh, ahh!” Your hands grip in the air, for anything that will suppress your body from shrieking its pleasure. “Shit, fuck, ugh, hmph!” You don’t understand it when your mouth babbles in pleas and distasteful curses. Distasteful? Never would you have imagined your tongue and the curses it carries could be so repulsive. This damned priest.

“Speaking in tongues I see.” The priest says mockingly.

Maybe you should kill him.

You regain some of your dignity at his words, realizing how desperate for his cock you may seem. To settle the score, you relax your body, letting his dick pass into you until you clamp your pussy around him. Like a vice, you squeeze hard, just to follow it with a pulse of different pressures against his dick. You pursue it relentlessly, trying hard not to succumb to the beautiful bliss of nerves it stimulates while he starts to stutter at his pace.

“I never thought a priest would want to break his celibacy fucking a demon child.” You coo. “Myyy, hahhhh, how the church must be so ashamed of you.”

His face stills in his huffing, his hand coming up to his shoulder as he quickly plucks off the stole around his neck, slipping it off of him before he lifts it in front of you.

“Your unholy words describe this as a test of faith. Speaking as if you weren’t built to do anything but take this cock. This, however, is my calling to do,” as quickly as he finished his sentence, as he pounds his dick hard enough to distract you, you feel the stole wrap around, tightly constricting your mouth as he pulls the ends behind your head.

You squirm in protest, muffled by the bitter, vile-tasting cloth. You wriggle violently, irritated that he’s muffled you like an animal.

“Uh, uh, be good for me now,” his voice is light and soft, but writhing when his breath touches your face.

He presses a hand on your stomach as he leans forward to your face, making your leg bend against both chests, opening your pussy more for him. The pressure on his hand against your stomach tightens your walls, his shaft rubbing against them with divine presence. You could cough up the new intensity, yet he jackhammers into you again.

His purpose for leaning so close to your face, inches away from yours, wasn’t to study you with an irritating smolder. No, it’s always more than that.

With a sudden jerk, you pull back from his hand yanking a horn on your head, the pain is exquisite, it’s dizzying, it’s fucking annoying, yet you squirm and whimper against the stole. Your neck turns at an uncomfortable angle, but you can’t think of the disrespect when he deliciously shoves his shaft into your walls.

You’ve never felt humanity, yet when tears bull in the corner of your eyes from the pain in your horns, you feel disgusted by the smirk you get from Priest Sanji.

“Come on, you can take it, little devil.” Closing the gap, he licks the tear that threatened to fall from the corner of your eye. You feel disgusted as he swallows your tears down in a sick satisfaction no priest would have. No priest should have, nothing that you could imagine, yet you hum in pleasure. Sickening is what you are.

You feel ravenous, you crave your reward too much to stop it, but your body screams to tip him over. In your wake of revenge, you gain enough feeling in your tail to move it underneath you.

Your tail catches him off guard, curling around the small of his waist to push him impossibly closer inside of you. You push and pull him faster, battling him at your own pace.

“Dirty,” is all he says, gripping onto your thighs to position them perfectly, giving you the instant gratitude of his cock head brushing into your cervix, reliving an itch that has never been scratched so well.

Oh, but he has more in store for you.

He leans over your body, cocking his arms to your shoulder, gripping them harshly, and arching your hips more, until he’s not just brushing into the deepest spots inside you, he’s pounding them. But your body is made for this. he grunts, feeling the effects of his actions like clockwork as you tighten harden around his pulsing cock.

That’s when you hear that irritating voice again. Not berating you, not egging you on. No…

“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name.”

That sick bastard is speaking a prayer over your dick-ridden body.

You feel hands on your back. In a bruising clutch, your body twists around and your stomach hits the counter hard enough to leave you breathless. Your arms restrained behind you now gain blood flow. Though you’re unable to see your prey now, you can still hear the retched words spill out of his mouth.

“Thy kingdom come, thy will be done,” says the grunting priest. While he’s slapping in and out of you, he feels the need to pray to his stupid god. What a joke.

Father Sanji’s chest is against your back. His hand travels up to your blouse, a rip ringing out and buttons flying in the air as the top of your dress rips apart. Your back arches at the feeling, giving him the perfect opportunity.

“On earth as it is in heaven.”

You moan at the dominance, chest now exposed in the air. the frayed blouse of the dress now limps at your sides.

“And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.”

A hand from behind reaches toward you and grips your breast with such force, gripping the mound like a knob. An intention to tear the succubus down to her bare necessities. For the first time, he gropes and explores your flesh against his digits; but it’s not for his pleasure. It’s for yours, to build you up higher as you take him in your tight sheath.

“For thine is the kingdom…”

Father Sanji’s voice falters in between his touches of your flesh, yet he doesn’t let go. He instead grips onto the flesh as he ruts his hips once again. You moan as he fondles your hardened nipples, gripping the mound with a brutish strength. Your legs splayed out.

“…and the power...”

You feel euphoric from the sensation, the slant of his hips rolling into you further than ever before. Your feet dangling in the air in ecstasy before latching onto him. You wrap your thighs around his middle along with your tail, hooking your feet together as you increase the pressure of your pussy, now pulling him so close he can barely pump out. His face contorts.

“…and the glory forever…”

You feel overpowered by his lust, edging to the brink of climax at an alarming rate, the pleasure is immeasurable, but you know it’s dangerous.

One more scratch, one more, as you use enough of your strength to finally release yourself from your restraints, your nails so close to the flesh you can feel it.

Until you feel a sudden pressure in your horns.

Both his hands fly to your horns as you’re yanked back, your back tensed as all the slack is pulled to arch it at the most inhumane position that you find hard to breathe, to moan. The pain at the base of your horns aches through your head, and the priest cocks it back to your right to face him, your neck straining from the angle that you squeak, your mouth agape and suckling on the stole.

Sanji is looking at you now, his wrinkles scrunching his face in pure agony and pleasure. The sweat was drenched on his face, a soft smile on his lips again, but with a dark glint he never had in the beginning.

In a swift motion, he rips the stole out of your mouth, and you’re ready to scream. You’re ready to devour him, to bite and suck his flesh, but he shuts up any thought you have by closing the distance first.

An open mouth kiss is taken from your lips. The priest seethes his tongue into you, as you feel a cool liquid pass from his lips into yours. Before you can sink your teeth into that wet tongue, you open your eyes and pull away as fast as you can.

“S-shit!” the water burns the insides of your mouth and travels down your throat, clawing its way into you like a furious wave of flames.

You’ve never known this horrible feeling, but you can tell what Sanji made you swallow. Holy water. The mix of the water and Palo Santo smoke lingering in his mouth travels into you.

“Amen.” Sanji grunts.

He cranks both of your legs further than before, past any stretch you reached before slamming his cock into your hole.

It’s too much, you can’t take it anymore.

You feel your body crash into an intense, mind-numbing orgasm as you scream and claw at your throat. A shrill, high-pitched yell scratches out of you from the pain and pleasure, the leftover water that didn't travel down your throat sputters out in spats. Your cunt restricts around his member, as your body releases its cum, showering and squirting onto his cock, out of your hole, and dripping like a faucet onto the floor. One more pound into your weeping cunt, and Sanji pulls out of you both he grunts, fisting himself until semen spurts out of his dick.

He’s pulled out and came right after you did. Not in your pussy, for his semen inside would’ve nourished you from this astounding pain.

You lost. You fucking lost!

And there he stands, a blurry form in front of you, chest heaving, looming over you, but with that solemn, soft face. The same face he made when you opened that forsaken entrance to the home, those same silvery-blue eyes that fill you with rage.

“And, hack! and I thought I could have some real fun with you, you fucking pig!” you cough out. your mouth is welled up with blood as you feel indescribable torture in your body, a mix of cum and blood drips down the kitchen floor. You wipe your mouth, and in the cloudy film of your eyes, you see your hand covered in bright red, staining your palm.

“But no… you wanted to play— ack ,— the hero. I will, I will kill you… you know. Hah , ahhh… I-I’m going to fucking kill–!”

“Language.”

Your body is doused in scalding liquid. The coffee pot in the Father's hand is now empty. You hear the sizzle of it on your skin. You wail out, clutching your face, your neck, your stomach. the inside and out of you feel exposed to the inside of the sun, blazing through every atom as if it were tearing in half.

“You couldn’t resist me, in the end. Your ego kept you from killing me from the chute.” Priest Sanji says. “Ironic, to say the least, fallen one.”

You can barely fucking hear him. Your body writhes on the floor. Pain, it’s all you can feel in everything.

Through the pain, you can hear Sanji’s words echoing in your mind. Your ego… it was that that kept you from killing him. You were so blindfolded by arrogance and conceit you couldn’t see the truth of the situation until it was too late.

“Now, you must leave at once demon.”

You howl like a banshee, getting up to attack him, but you can’t see. The sound of glass and plates breaks as your body slumps across the counters, searching for him through the blur.

No. You know now, despite his soft words, his truthful compliments, and the way he delighted your body, he’s the real demon. One so taunting, so deceiving, it fills your weak body with nothing but rage. But you can’t fight him now, you can barely stand.

“F-fucking… bastard!”

With nothing else left for you to do, with his mere presence making your life force dangerously zap out of your vessel, you claw away on your four limbs, crashing against walls until you reach the exit of the home.

You stumble out into the night, desperately gasping for breath and clutching at your chest’s faint heartbeat. Your body flees past the lot, past the yard’s grasses. The fear of him reaching you carries until the forest is only illuminated by the moon above.

You’re far weaker than you’ve been in ages, clearly on the brink of death unless your strength is built up again. By the looks of it, it won’t be another hundred, no, even a thousand flimsy men you victimize before you can cast revenge on the priest.

With a flick of your tail and limp in your dash, you’re quick to find your next meal to satiate a burning desire.

A desire to make that flakey priest drop dead the next time you lay eyes on him.

#x reader #fanfic #reader insert #ao3 fanfic #fem reader #my fanfic #one piece #one piece sanji #priest sanji #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader

24 notes · View notes

maxdibert · 3 days ago

Note

Hii I'm a new follower to your blog, but a quick question (this is after I read your 5 most hated Harry Potter characters, and I agree mostly, ESPECIALLY on Dumbledore): what's your opinion on Darco Malfoy?

Just curious...

Hi there! Thanks for following!! ^^

So, let’s talk about Draco. I always tread carefully when it comes to him because I don’t want to romanticize the character, but at the same time, reducing him (as Rowling does) to this über-evil bully feels shallow and shortsighted.

Draco is essentially a James Potter. He’s a rich, spoiled kid whose parents have always given him everything he wanted and treated him as if he were the most precious thing in the world. And yes, lots of people claim Lucius was abusive, but I don’t think that’s accurate. Lucius was a classist fanatic with terrible ideas, but that doesn’t necessarily make him a bad parent. Some folks don’t understand that you can be a terrible human being while still treating your kids well. History is full of examples of people who were absolute trash as human beings but were doting parents, and vice versa: people revered for their contributions to peace or human rights but who, behind closed doors, were awful to their families (looking at you, Gandhi and Mother Teresa).

Draco trusted his father to the point that he felt comfortable writing to him and complaining about every minor inconvenience at Hogwarts. That’s not indicative of abusive or neglectful parenting—it’s quite the opposite. It shows a kid so confident in his parents’ support and protection that he doesn’t hesitate to make a fuss over, say, the Saturday meal in the dining hall. Draco, like James, also believes he has the right to pick on certain people based on what identifies them. Draco mocks people for being Gryffindors or Muggle-born, while James bullied Severus for being a Slytherin and having an interest in the Dark Arts. Both of them feel justified within their own moral frameworks to target specific groups. However, one thing we can say in Draco’s favor is that he never publicly stripped anyone or orchestrated a “prank” that nearly got someone killed by a werewolf (that was Sirius but still-)

That said, if there’s one way Draco differs from James, it’s in the political alignment of his parents. But ultimately, it’s the same situation: rich parents fervently instilling a set of values in their upper-class kids who, because of their privilege and never having been told “no,” completely believe in these ideas and stomp over anyone who challenges them. The only difference is that the values James’s parents passed on were “the good ones,” while Draco’s upbringing trained him to be a massive bigot.

Draco is the typical smug, self-satisfied kid from an ultra-conservative family who has never stopped to question those ideas—and why would he? They’re part of his privileged world. He has a comfortable, conflict-free life. His parents love and support him, his friends share the same beliefs, and in his social circle, these ideologies are considered virtuous. Why would he question them? Nothing in his life sets off any alarms. He’s never suffered, and this ideology has never negatively impacted him or his family.

Then Voldemort returns. The chaos in the Department of Mysteries happens, and Lucius falls from grace. Suddenly, Voldemort’s followers aren’t these wealthy, powerful wizards he always thought they were. They’re pawns to a psychopath who severely punishes anyone who becomes useless. That’s when Draco begins to realize this isn’t a game. It’s not something to joke about with his friends or mock other kids over during recess. This is war, and war costs lives. And he’s on the side of a madman who wants him to kill Dumbledore. But Draco doesn’t want to kill Dumbledore. Sure, Dumbledore’s a dick, and maybe he shouldn’t be headmaster because he clearly plays favorites, but just because Draco dislikes him doesn’t mean he wants him dead—let alone that he wants to be the one to do it.

Draco can be nasty, petty, and insufferable, but he’s not a murderer. He doesn’t want to kill anyone, but he has no choice because if he doesn’t, Voldemort will kill him and his family—or worse, kill his family first and then him, just to drive the point home.

Draco never particularly interested me as a character until this moment when he realizes what his ideology truly entails and what it means to follow someone like Voldemort. That’s when he stops being a kid playing at being a dark wizard and starts seeing the real consequences of it—and he doesn’t like what he sees. There’s a big difference between holding certain political ideas and being dragged into a spiral of gratuitous violence. He doesn’t want to be part of it. And I think that makes him incredibly human (despite whatever Rowling might say, because she can eat my ass). It’s something that happens to a lot of kids who grow up in environments like his.

I went to a Catholic school full of kids from ultra-conservative families, and I knew people like Draco. People who, as they grew older, started to realize that the ideas they’d been taught to repeat without much thought could become genuinely dangerous. I don’t think Rowling intended this—because she’s pretty one-dimensional when it comes to aligning her characters into good and bad camps—but what she ended up doing with Draco in the end was turning him from a caricature of a bratty bully into a painfully realistic character.

I have a lot of compassion for Draco. He learned his lesson the hard way. But honestly? That’s fine. He needed a reality check, and he got one.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy meta #draco #lucius malfoy #narcissa malfoy #the malfoys #voldemort #death eaters #james potter #harry potter #harry potter meta #slytherin

21 notes · View notes

snek-panini · 7 months ago

Text

I'm trying to get the last of my Binderary projects posted, so today we have books #8 and 9, Fault Lines by Marabelle123. This is a long canon compliant Good Omens fic (pre-second season) that I've had on my to-bind list since I started making books three years ago. It's unfinished and had its most recent update in early 2020, but based on how the existing story feels I'm fairly sure it was close to the end and feels complete enough to be satisfying. It's very in character and captures a lot of the specific feeling from the pre-miniseries fandom, that the relationship between the leads defies all definition. They're as close as it's possible to be and their relationship has teeth sometimes but their bond is as undefinable as it is unbreakable. Give it a read if that sounds like your thing; it's excellent.

The cover for this one is made of two colors of faux leather, cut at a diagonal with no overlap, with the title in silver foil htv. I've never done a cover like this before but I'm in love with the result. It feels very sleek and sexy and modern compared to the more vintage elements I usually favor. And I didn't have enough of either leather to do two full books, but I still wanted to use them and have the volumes match. I think it was an elegant solution.

More pics under the cut! I tried some new stuff with this one.

You may have noticed above that this is a Coptic bind, my favorite for unfinished fics because of the "out" option it leaves. If the author ever returns to it and posts more chapters it would be fairly easy to take out the stitching and add more signatures. I still stand by this motivation, but after a silence of four years and no response from the author when I reached out for permission to bind it I'm reasonably sure this is it for the story. That let me try out some stuff I'd be reluctant to do if I was planning to add pages. Have a look at the spines:

Sadly I couldn't make the page count work with a single volume, since you can't do much to mitigate spine swell in a Coptic bind, but the volume split let me do some long stitches in the center that look like wings. There are plot-relevant feathers in the fic, so it's fitting. I thought of sewing one of them in white for that sweet Good Omens balance feeling, but I didn't think it would pop against the white paper and would leave the set looking unbalanced so I stuck with black on both. To get the pattern right I cut out a wing shape the same width as the spine and traced it and poked holes for the outline, then flipped it for the second volume so they'd be mirrored. You can also see that I did something different at the head and tail, more visible here:

This is a Coptic endband. I found out these existed a couple of months ago and absolutely had to try them. They're woven into the signatures and cover with a separate thread, after the rest of the stitching is done, and they're supposed to add some stability to the wiggly spine that you always get with these books. Unlike other types of endband, they don't have a core. I had a lot of trouble with them and had to pull out the first one and redo it with a different thread (embroidery floss is better than crochet thread for this) but I have no regrets about the finished product. They do stabilize the spine some, though not as much as I'd have liked. I really like how they (and the longstitch section) dress up a Coptic spine. I've always thought the plain ones were a little lackluster for how much work they are, but I love all the texture and interest this one has. Would absolutely not do black on black again though. Very hard to keep track of which thread I was supposed to sew under against a black background. I'll be using a contrasting color next time.

Interior photos. The doublure on the inside of the cover is a striped lokta (I think; it's been a while since I bought it). The title page image is a free-to-use image that I found on I think Vecteezy. Unsurprisingly, given its title, a big theme in this one is underlying cracks and misalignments that the characters don't realize are there until there's a massive disturbance, and that's why I had the text on both the title page and the cover not line up. Things are slipping, things are cracking, and there's extra work to be done on both sides if you're going to stabilize or rebuild. Comparatively, the typeset is quite plain and simple, with only two fonts, no chapter header image, and no section break images unless the break falls on the last line of a page, in which case there's one gray line. I think it's well-suited to the story; there is a bit with an illuminated manuscript, but mostly the characters are busy introspecting in between managing crises. They don't have the time or the energy to dress things up prettily.

And that's it on Fault Lines! As I mentioned earlier, I reached out to the author on Ao3 for permission to bind but never received a response, so I really hope they don't mind that I made these. I love their fic, and I love the bind I made.

#bookbinding #fanbinding #snek makes books #good omens #fic rec #there were a lot of new things and a lot of challenges with this set #it was so worth the frustration though #one more binderary post after this #and then i can finally start my new projects #i'm so ready to make more books

19 notes · View notes

thethingything · 8 months ago

Text

once again suddenly getting the urge to sort out a bunch of shit a couple of hours before bed because it's sunny

#personal #thoughts #🍬 post #I'm looking forward to the sun rising at like 5am and setting at 9pm. daylight my beloved #I feel like we were a lot more aware of our seasonal depression during the winter and kept being like ''I'm desperate for sunlight''#and as a result we're a lot more excited for the longer days than we have been on previous years #I feel like we have more events to look forward to in the spring and summer now because we keep finding stuff to take part in #like last year was the first time we did Art Fight and we'll hopefully be doing that again #and this year will be the first time we take part in the City Nature Challenge and I feel like we'll find other stuff to join in with too #plus we have some social stuff we join in with each week and we've been trying to vary up some of the stuff we do #I want to try and make the year feel as long as possible by varying up what we do and trying new things #and trying to pay attention to the way the seasons change and when we start seeing different species in the garden #I feel like every time I talk about spring and summer I go on a really long ramble but anyway

1 note · View note

joelsgoldrush · 3 months ago

Text

“give me the first taste” | 10k

logan howlett x f!reader

part 2 of “GUILTY PLEASURE”

"Your hungry flirt borders intrusion / And I'm building memories on things we have not said / Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly, my love / Give me the first taste / Let it begin, heaven cannot wait forever / Darling, just start start the chase, I'll let you win." The First Taste by Fiona Apple

SUMMARY: From the moment you first laid eyes on Logan, you knew he was a tough nut to crack. But if there’s one thing you love, it’s a challenge. As your relationship grows, you’re determined to show him that, in this universe, he can also be loved.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. angst. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. age-gap (reader is 25). once again wade saves the day. domestic!logan. soft dom!logan. logan calls reader “kid”. they watch (500) days of summer. oral sex (f and m receiving). fingering. thigh riding. thumb sucking. throat fucking. multiple orgasms. unprotected p in v. creampie (i would say i’m sorry but i’d be lying)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: jeez. hi guys!!! hope you’re doing alright. this is the 2nd part to “guilty pleasure.” writing for these two has been a total rollercoaster, but god was it worth it. as i always tell you, english isn’t my first language, so if you come across any mistake and you feel like letting me know, there’s no problem. thank you so much for all the support you’ve been giving my posts. i’m happy strangers out there take the time to read my silly stories :)

A girl and a mutant walk into an apartment…

Actually, you’re still trying to come up with the rest of the joke. But one thing’s true: Logan’s about to set foot in your place.

You curse under your breath, putting both your hands to work as you struggle to open the door. “Fucking swollen wood. I hate humidity,” you mutter, glancing back at Logan, who frowns as you keep trying different maneuvers to get the door to function properly.

It’s a shitty situation overall. And having that gorgeous man practically glued to your back isn’t helping in any way. You can tell he wants to give you a hand, but you’re not having it—women in STEM or something of the sort.

“May I—” he starts, though you cut him off before he can finish.

“I’ve got this. Just need to—” you say, ramming your shoulder into the door with enough force to make it finally give away. Almost stumbling over the carpet but managing to catch yourself, you sigh in relief. Meanwhile, Logan stands still, scrutinizing you until you gesture for him to enter. “Welcome to the smallest apartment in New York City. It's nothing fancy, but it’s got everything you need for a comfortable stay on a budget. Make yourself at home!”

Logan narrows his eyes, the tiniest smirk playing on his lips before stepping inside. Each of his movements seems to be premeditated as he tosses his jacket onto the couch, surveying the room. A portrait of when you were a kid, probably six or seven years old, catches his attention. He tilts his head, picking up the picture to examine it more closely, and then flashes you a lopsided grin. “How cute.”

“Well, I’ve changed a lot,” you take the picture from his hands, returning it to the shelf where he had gotten it from.

“Well,” he echoes, mocking your tone, “your beauty certainly hasn’t.”

His eyes bore into you as you meet his gaze. What amazes you most is that he’s being completely honest. In a heartbeat, you look away, wondering what’s gotten into you. Usually, you’re not this awkward—you’ve learned how to take compliments over the years, knowing how to smile just right, to flutter your eyelashes. To blush and giggle in command. Those were the tools that helped you to survive countless first dates—your dearest aces up your sleeve.

There’s no use denying that they remained just that: first, failed dates. You hope you never have to go back to dating apps after this.

“Are you hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving,” you say, trying to walk away from him, although he’s faster, catching your hand in his.

“Hey,” he urges you to make eye contact with him, his voice perplexingly soft. “Is everything okay?”

You nod so vigorously that you nearly strain your neck. “I’m fine, I swear. I just never get past this point.”

Inching closer, he presses his lips together for a split second, his brows furrowing in confusion. “You lost me there.”

“Guys who come into my apartment don’t tend to call back,” you admit, a flush creeping up your face, cheeks getting hotter. “I happen to believe it’s a curse, though I’ve kissed, like, a hundred toads so far and it still won’t break.”

“So y’think you’re gonna scare me off,” he raises an eyebrow, grinning. His rough fingers become gentle as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s sweet. Should be the other way around.”

Wow. You two are a match made in heaven.

As you detach yourself from his embrace and head to the kitchen, you decide to look for something edible in the fridge, finding different trays of food from days ago, none of which look appetizing or suitable for feeding the Tin Woodman standing behind you.

All of a sudden, the unmistakable metallic sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing rings in your ears, forcing you to spin around. The image that unfolds before you is peculiar, to say the least: he’s cornering your cat against the door.

Why is he about to fight a cat?

“Please don’t kill him?” you take a step in his direction and scoop the little ball of white fur into your arms. Logan stares at both of you, eyes squinted and brows knitted. “I’m sure he’s the cutest feline you’ve ever seen. Have mercy on him.”

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“Earnest wasn’t aware of your existence either,” you reply, scratching along the animal’s back. He purrs beside your neck, his yellowish eyes never leaving Logan’s. “Earnest, this is Logan. He has claws just like you.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to that,” Logan warns you, retracting his claws with a sigh. You can’t help but wonder if he ever feels tranquil, at peace. “Y’know, you’ve doomed him to bad fortune with that name. Is he at least toilet trained?”

“Are you hating on The Importance of Being Earnest?” you ask, expecting a retort, though apparently the play’s title doesn’t ring a bell for him. “Oscar Wilde?”

“Who do you think you’re talkin’ to, kid?”

Now’s your time to roll your eyes, setting the cat down and letting it run away. He likes to hide in the bathroom—don’t ask why, because not even you know the answer to that. You flick your gaze up back to Logan, placing your hands on your hips. “See, you gave him trust issues.”

“He’ll survive. Don’t they have seven lives?”

This is the perfect conversation to have with someone who just ate you out thirty minutes ago: how many lives do cats have. Jesus.

At some point, Logan flops onto the couch, stretching out. You shudder as you hear him crack his neck, the popping sound getting on your nerves. He pats the empty side of the sofa, spreading his thighs until he’s almost taking up all the space. “Come here.”

Putting aside all your thoughts, you accept the invitation. You sit down, motionless, and his arm grazes the cushion behind your head, pulling you closer to him. You rest your cheek on his chest, letting out a deep sigh, one that you’ve been holding in since you got to the apartment. Is it possible that he knows you craved this? This proximity, this kind of affection. To be held—it’s been your only wish for months. He drums his fingers on your shoulder blades, then starts rubbing your back ever so lightly.

Far from dozing off, you feel alive.

It’s hard not to lose track of time and space when you find yourself immersed in the warmth he offers, and that’s when you realize how deeply you’re falling for this man. “Logan?” the mere thought of asking him what’s been on your mind terrifies you. The last thing you want is to ruin things—or whatever it is that you have. He hums, a low, heavy sound in his throat, indicating you to continue. “I have a question.”

“Ask away.”

You lift your face from his chest and look him in the eye. The city’s still alive outside, with music and chatter sneaking in through the window. Everything seems to be perfect, and you wish you could stay like this—just staring at him as if he were a painting in a museum, and you the critic who can’t stop writing articles about its beauty.

Okay, that was… weirdly specific.

Logan tries to hide his smile as you peck his lips repeatedly. For a moment, you almost forget what you were going to ask him in the first place. But then he’s ready to listen, and you a wave of nausea washes over you.

“I know that we came here to… engage in adult practices.”

“Fucking, you mean.”

“I didn’t want to be that straightforward, but yeah,” you say, shaking your head as to rearrange your thoughts. “Would you mind if we stayed like this?” to emphasize your point, you kick your shoes off and put your legs on top of his lap. He observes the whole sequence without daring to utter a word. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to try that too. I truly do. But… right now, all I want is to cuddle,” he’s still silent, making you even more nervous. “I’m sorry. Is that okay with you?”

His whole body engulfs yours, your cheek coming to rest once again in its original position. You can feel the rhythmic beating of his heart, each breath he takes, the air he exhales dampening your nape. Logan peppers your neck with chaste kisses before pressing his lips to your temple. His voice comes out strained, partially muffled by your hair. “Who do you take me for, huh?” he’s right there, beside your ear, fucking everywhere. There isn’t a single centimeter of your exposed skin that he isn’t touching, marking as his. You don’t give him an answer, in part because you’re unsure of what to say. He takes your silence as a cue to keep talking. “Let me take you to bed.”

“I can walk on my own.”

“I know,” he mutters, standing up with you in his arms, one arm beneath your knees and the other one under your shoulders. Logan’s not used to being this cautious, this patient with someone he’s known for less than two weeks. You see it in his eyes when he lets his guard down—something that has cracked, a shell that’s been broken.

As he places you gently on top of the covers, he lingers for a moment, crouching beside the bed and searching for your lowered gaze. His fingers are warm as he tilts your chin up. “I didn’t come here just to have sex with you. That was a possibility, of course—but it’s not the main reason why I’m here,” he rasps, words accompanied by the light brush of his lips against yours for a quick, brief kiss. “I care about you. A lot. I’m fine with whatever we do as long as I get to be close to you,” he grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He then goes back to his usual bossy self, his demeanor changing. “And I don’t want to hear you apologizing for not wanting to have sex ever again. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now you’re making jokes?”

“I can’t have serious conversations,” you confess, observing the look of pure confusion on his face. “It’s true. I once spoke at a funeral and they cut me off forty seconds into my speech.”

Logan laughs at your sudden confession, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Rising to his feet, he begins to unbutton his flannel, pausing after the first few buttons are undone, waiting for your approval. “Do you want me to stay tonight?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

His words don’t hide any real threat—that you know.

You stifle your laughter, shedding your clothes. Instead of going to the bathroom to change, you toss your work clothes carelessly to the floor, opting for an old pair of pajamas that are the complete opposite of sexy. They surely have seen better days.

Logan’s eyes trail over you, taking his time to analyze the faded lettering on your wrinkled shirt. “Keep calm and eat pizza?” he reads aloud.

“Hey. I bought it when I was seventeen.”

“You could use a new wardrobe.”

“Well, what about you?” you tease, toying with his belt. “You’re gonna sleep like this in my bed?”

“Can’t wait for me to get my shirt off, huh?” he grins, that all-too-familiar smile on his lips.

You play along, folding your arms over your chest. “You think so highly of yourself.”

Without breaking eye contact, Logan unbuckles his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles. He then shrugs off his flannel, leaving him in just his briefs and vest. You scan his body, and the room suddenly feels a hundred degrees hotter, the air between you thickening. Logan notices your reaction, chuckling. “Don’t get too excited. This is all you’re getting today.”

“I think I’ve already heard that before.”

“Kid.”

You raise your hands in surrender, showing him your palms and mouthing ’sorry’. Approaching your bed, you pull back the covers and slip into it. When you see Logan still standing there, you frown. “Where are your manners? Come here. I’m very impatient.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but he doesn’t make you wait long. He proceeds to get under the sheets beside you, occupying that side of the bed that’s always been empty. As you both settle in, facing each other, you can’t help but giggle, your contagious laugh getting to him. “What now?”

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your index finger, a featherlight touch that has him closing his eyes. In the soft glow of the night, with the city’s distant sounds filtering in, he looks breathtaking. “I mean it.”

“Do you have an off switch?”

“I’m… not sure. Let’s find out tomorrow.”

“You need to sleep,” he pulls you onto his chest with firm but gentle hands. He intertwines his legs with yours, holding you close.

“Wait. I have a game to play.”

“It’s late.”

“Please?”

He sighs. “Okay.”

“We have to make confessions until we fall asleep.”

“You just want to talk—that doesn’t even qualify as a game.”

“It does in this universe,” you reply, feeling his chest rumble with a chuckle as you settle more comfortably against him. “I’ll start: remember the first night you came to the bar?” he hums in acknowledgment. “It wasn’t Burger Night. We don’t serve food. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “I knew. You don’t have a kitchen down there, baby,” he falls silent, taking his time to come up with a confession of his own. “I have a fear of flying.”

“Really? You, of all people?”

“I wasn’t expecting to be judged.”

“Oh, don’t be such a crybaby,” you tease, burying your face further into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He shivers slightly where your nose touches his skin. “I like you. It’s kind of scary, and I’m sure saying something like this probably goes against the rules of dating 101, but I do. I feel safe with you, like—like this is where I’m supposed to be.”

Almost as if the pieces of the puzzle finally fit together, you think to yourself, though the words stay unspoken.

You’ve come to learn that Logan’s not a man of many words—he’s more of the “show, don’t tell” kind of guy. So when he makes you lift your face, you’re not surprised by the way he kisses you: hungrily. Passionately, like a starved man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. A soft whimper gets lost somewhere in your throat as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, languidly stroking yours.

“We didn’t brush our teeth,” you whisper against his lips, laughing when he groans in exasperation.

“You love having the final say, don’t you?”

“I’m being serious, Logan. Cavities are a real issue for me.”

“You can always get new teeth.”

“But my morning breath—”

“It’ll stink anyway, and so will mine,” he responds, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat once he settles into his ideal sleep position. “Good night.”

“Night,” you murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his neck. Despite your efforts to ignore it, being cradled like this feels incredible. You can’t believe you went twenty-five years without it.

Just as you’re about to drift off, curiosity strikes. “Can you get tattoos?”

“Bub, I was actually falling asleep.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry,” you mumble, feeling a bit sheepish.

More silence.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“What was the Great Depression like?”

“Fuck me,” he mutters, his voice gruff as he shifts lightly. “It was fine. Now go to sleep.”

And you do, but not for long. An abrupt coldness wakes you up, eyes wide open, feeling disoriented. It’s still pitch black outside, far quieter than when you first fell asleep. The clock on your nightstand reads it’s 3:17 am, though it feels like you’ve only been in bed for five minutes.

Then you see him—he’s twitching in his sleep on the far side of the bed, his painful grunts reaching your ears. Most of what he says is unintelligible, but there’s one word he keeps repeating over and over again without fail: “No.”

You don’t usually have nightmares. What’s the best way to wake someone from one? You’re still thinking when he starts mumbling again, his voice thick with distress, and now he’s throwing his arms in the air as if he were fighting off something—or someone—in his dreams.

Pressing your hands to his cheeks, you attempt to hold his face steady. He clenches his fists, his breath quickening the more he battles whatever’s haunting him. “Logan,” you whisper at first, subtly shaking his shoulders, but his eyebrows stay furrowed, deep in his nightmare. This time, you tighten your grip, fully sitting on top of him. “Logan. Logan! Wake up!”

Without warning, you’re on your back, pinned against the mattress. Logan’s straddling your hips, caging you in with his body, the weight of his adamantium skeleton pressing down. Your hands are trapped beneath his, and you watch as he clenches his jaw, teeth bared in a way that looks painful. His eyes are so dark and wild you barely recognize him, prominent veins throbbing in his neck with each labored breath he takes.

“Logan,” your own voice sounds unnatural, forced, as you do your best to bring him back to reality. “It’s me. You’re alright.”

That seems to get through him. Logan stares at you in disbelief, his eyes softening as they take in your terrified expression. He abruptly pulls away, retreating to the nearest wall. He’s gasping for air, slamming his eyes shut, his legs trembling. The only sound you can hear is his rapid breathing. You get up from the bed, taking a step in his direction, but you don’t manage to go any further since he stops you with a shout.

“Stay right there!” he’s growling, pointing his finger at you. “I’m serious. Don’t come any closer.”

“Logan…”

“Please, no!” his voice increases in pitch, not being able to meet your eyes. “Please. Just stay there.”

You comply, not wanting to upset him any further. Sitting back on your knees, you try to appear calm. A man so strong, capable of things you can’t even understand. A weapon turned against himself now stands before you, pushing you away as if his presence were poisonous. He slumps to the floor, the fabric of his vest soaked with sweat.

Once he’s fully conscious, you cautiously crawl toward him, watching his every move. On a random day, this might have been funny for both of you, but right now, there’s no room for laughter. Logan shakes his head, his shoulders tensing when you reach out to hug him, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. It takes him a couple of minutes, but eventually, his body sags against yours. For a while, neither of you speaks. You just thread your fingers through his hair, hoping the closeness will help soothe him. “Feeling better?” you whisper in the shell of his ear, and he pulls back to look you in the eye. You caress his cheek, his stubble rough against your skin. “Welcome back.”

“I’m sorry,” it’s the first thing he says, covering your hand with his. One by one, he kisses your knuckles, still shaking his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You had a nightmare—it’s not like you could control it.”

“But I could’ve hurt you,” he says, lowering his gaze to your wrists, where his fingerprints have left their mark. “God. I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

“Wait!” you grab his arm, your mouth setting in a hard line, stopping him from leaving. “Don’t run away from me, not now. Don’t push me away, Logan.”

“I could’ve done something much worse.”

“But you didn’t. It was a nightmare, baby. You didn’t know,” you kiss his forehead, hoping to talk some sense into him. “Please, stay. Let’s try to get some more sleep.”

“What if—”

You hold his face close to yours, your noses brushing. “You won’t hurt me.”

This time, he lets you keep him close, the roles now reversed. You can see him fighting his exhaustion, not wanting to fall asleep. But the more you play with his hair, the harder it is for him to stay awake.

“I’m alright,” he says, seemingly reading your mind. It’s hard to tell whether he’s reassuring you or himself.

“I know,” you knead his shoulder, aiming to ease the tension knotted there. “You better sleep, or I might start rambling again.”

A faint, tired hum escapes him, at long last allowing his eyes to close. “I like hearing you talk,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your collarbone, drifting off soon after that.

You continue to hug him, feeling the weight of his body gradually relax against yours as his breathing evens out. The room is quiet, but your mind is far from it: a tornado of emotions swirls within you—concern, relief, love, and something else you can’t quite decipher. It isn’t until sleep finally claims you too that your brain stops going a hundred kilometers an hour.

The most surreal Sunday night of your whole life.

“So… when will you let me see Lolo again?”

Wade’s question makes you stop mid-pour, flicking your eyes between the drink and him. A few seats away, you hand a glass to Adam. Returning to where Wade’s currently sitting, you dry your hands on your apron. “Why are you even here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, and he gives half a shrug. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t holding him against his will.”

“He’s been crashing at your place almost every night. You have your own methods, woman,” he raises one finger, then quickly adds another, pointing at your shirt. “Two methods, in fact.”

At that, you laugh mirthlessly, shaking your head with a grin. “I’m surprised anyone would willingly date you.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts, taking a tentative sip of his beer and leaning back in his chair.

You glance at him while you wipe down the bar, looking for something to occupy your hands. “He’s not my boyfriend—yet.”

Wade mimics a punch in his chest, just where his heart’s supposed to be, though you’re starting to question whether he has one. His lips form a small, exaggerated pout. “That must hurt, doll. You got yourself into a situationship with a goddamn fossil. Good luck getting out of that.”

“It’s not that bad,” you say, rolling your eyes. “We’re cool this way. There’s absolutely no need for a title.”

“Okay, let’s rehearse that one more time because you look like you’re about to cry,” he lifts an eyebrow, drawing nearer. “You want the title, right?”

“I don’t.”

He props his chin on his hand, laughing at you. “Yes, you do. You can’t fool me.”

“I said I don’t.”

“I said I don’t,” he mocks you, kicking his legs and puckering his lips.

You can’t help but throw the towel down on the counter with irritation, giving in. “Okay! Of course, I want the fucking title.”

“There she is!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in a triumphant gesture. “Glad we’re speaking the truth now,” he tilts his head to the side, noticing your sudden silence. “Hey, drop the long face. I’m sure he’s been thinking about it. In order to understand Logan, I usually compare him to elders over ninety.”

“Why would you do that?” you ask, your tone a mix of mild annoyance and curiosity.

“Just think about it! Senior citizens didn’t date for too long in the past. They’d go straight from strangers to lovers. Take my grandparents, for example: in the span of one year, they met at a party, then got married, and had five kids. Do you really want to have a litter of Logan’s grumpy, hairy puppies?”

“Wade, that’s not even possible.”

“The point is,” he continues, finishing his beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Logan’s rusty in this area, alright? I’d bet a thousand dollars he probably dated Cleopatra.”

“How did you pass History in high school?”

“I never graduated, but keep that between us,” he lifts his shoulders, shrugging. He spins the empty bottle, contemplating his next words. “You should tell him how you feel and what you want. That’s what works best for Vanessa and me. It’s easier that way—you can’t expect him to just guess.”

You wrap your arms around yourself. “I just wish he’d realize it on his own.”

“Well, sometimes you need to give the other person a bit of guidance. I’m just laying out the basics of a relationship here. Did your parents hate each other or something?”

The irony of it all. “They got divorced when I was little.”

“Oh, god,” Wade sighs, rubbing his temples before glancing at you. “Let me get this straight: Mommy and Daddy weren’t exactly the poster children for love. And you also happen to be a bartender. Anything else, honey? Please tell me you’re at least getting laid, because otherwise, I’m going to feel tremendously sorry for you and your mental health.”

Just then, you hear your name being called. Smiling at Wade, you mumble: “Saved by the bell.” Once you’re back from taking some orders, Wade jumps to his feet, coming around the counter to hug you.

“Dude, what’s the matter with you?” you ask, loosely returning the hug.

“You’re a fucking survivor,” he whispers in your ear, genuinely sounding concerned. “I don’t know how you do it—you seem so put together. I would’ve lost it by now. A life without sex sounds awful.”

“Jesus, Wade! Get off!” you stretch your arm to punch him in the back, earning a groan from him. “Back to your seat, gentleman. I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“I’m a certified sexologist. Your secret’s safe with me,” he declares with a smirk, gesturing to his empty beer. “But first, I’m gonna need more of this tasty apple juice.”

“I hope you’ve got some cash on you,” you say, getting him another beer. “Why do I get the feeling Logan would kill us if he knew we’re talking about this?”

“Isn’t that what makes it even better?”

Swaying on your feet, you scrunch your nose, momentarily lost in thought. “He won’t let me touch him. I don’t know if it’s me that does something wrong. We do have our… moments, but he takes care of himself. And usually in the bathroom.”

Wade goes white in front of you. “How long has this been going on?”

“Over a month.”

“Oh. That’s bad, like, really bad.”

“Thanks! I’ll be sleeping on the highway tonight. You can always join me.”

“Doll, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed, alright?” he waves his hand dismissively, then sets his palms flat on the counter. “I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but talking to him is your best bet. This isn’t something you can just brush under the carpet. You’re like a goddamn radio—put it to good use.”

Just as you’re about to reply, you spot Logan entering the bar. You raise a hand in greeting, waving at him. He meets your gaze and smiles briefly, and so your eyes drift to Wade’s, shooting him a warning look. “If you keep this to yourself, I won’t charge you for today,” you mutter through gritted teeth, to which he answers by pretending to zip his mouth closed.

Logan takes a seat next to him, ignoring his presence. Instead, he focuses entirely on you. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, homey.”

“Hiya, Wade,” Wade greets himself with a mock cheer, patting his own back, which makes you laugh. He turns to Logan and his whole face lights up. “I’m afraid to tell you I can’t sleep when you’re not around.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Get your shit together.”

“You’re the worst roommate ever! Can’t believe you got yourself a girl and completely forgot about your bro,” Wade murmurs under his breath, just as his phone rings. “Thank God. I’ve got to go. My love nugget’s calling,” he announces, heading for the door. Before leaving, Wade blows the two of you a kiss. “I hate you both, but I also love you. Peace out, my friends!”

Logan and you exchange glances. “He’s a funny guy, isn’t he?”

“You could say that,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. Logan intends to deepen the kiss, but you pull away after a couple of seconds. He frowns, clearly confused. “That’s how you greet me?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “My tip jar is practically empty, and I hate to say it, but it’s your fault.”

“Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”

“Oh, no.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not,” he plants a quick kiss on your cheek, making you smile. “You have classes tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, at 9 am,” you almost grunt, not feeling too enthusiastic about it. “I’m gonna need your help. I can’t sleep through my alarm, okay? The professor said tomorrow’s class is an important one. Midterms are right around the corner, and I can’t take the liberty of failing them.”

“That won’t happen,” he assures you, and you believe him. “I can be of help, don’t worry. You won’t oversleep.”

Oh, Logan. Sweet, lying Logan.

Turns out you ended up oversleeping. Twenty-five years on this earth, and you still haven’t learned not to trust a man, even if his puppy-dog eyes silently beg you to do otherwise. The thing is—you love them. You love men. And you’re especially fond of the one currently sleeping in your bed.

The first rays of sunshine hit your face, waking you up. You attempt to raise a hand to shield your eyes, but moving any limbs feels like a Herculean task. A warm body is pressed against your back, one veiny arm draped over your stomach. Logan remains fast asleep behind you, his steady breathing succeeding in making you feel at ease. You reach back, running your fingers through his messy hair, and he grumbles in his sleep, instinctively pulling you closer.

What a nice, domestic morning. Yep, you’re getting used to this. And nope, you don’t regret it, not even in the slightest bit.

Though there must be a mistake, because you’re preeeeetty sure you had something important to do.

Oh. You have classes. Had—past tense.

You reach for your nightstand, blindly groping for your phone. The charger is lying on the floor, the plastic of it all damaged. Perhaps Earnest had chewed on it while you were sleeping? You gently pry Logan’s arm off you, sitting up, and your bleary eyes land on something barely peeking out from under the bed.

It’s your fucking phone. The screen is completely shattered, with three distinct holes in the middle of it. Three holes, how strange! You can’t help but wonder who might have left them. Clutching your pillow, you whack Logan in the face with it. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!”

He groans, trying to take the pillow away from you. “What the fuck is wrong with you, kid?”

“I wish I had a UNO reverse card because I should be the one asking you that!” you jab your finger into his chest, showing him the ruined phone. “You broke my fucking phone!”

“What?” he asks, voice laden with sleep, still disoriented. He holds the phone, carefully scrutinizing it. “I think I don’t know how to hit the snooze button.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I believe you’ve made that very clear,” you huff, tossing the phone aside as you flop back onto the mattress. The clock on your nightstand says 11:05 am, and you cover your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. “Next time, when it goes off, just wake me up and I’ll do it.”

Logan settles beside you, resting his head on his forearm as he watches you. “I’m sorry, bub. I’ll get you a new one.”

“It’s fine,” you murmur, sighing. This is your free ticket to be a menace. “I should’ve known dinosaurs and phones would never get along. My bad, pal.”

You don’t even get to see his reaction because he starts tickling you, the room filling with your laughter. Squealing, you try to wriggle away, but his fingers dig into your ribs, expertly finding your most ticklish spots. Your giggles escalate into breathless laughter, your eyes squeezed shut as you desperately attempt to push him away. He’s relentless, chuckling when his own laughter bubbles up.

“L-logan, stop!” you gasp between fits of laughter, aiming to grasp his hands.

“We dinosaurs love tickling people. Sorry, sweetheart,” he manhandles you until you’re perched on his lap, fisting the fabric of your (his) shirt. Leaning forward, he captures your mouth in a heated kiss. “I’m sorry about the phone,” he slurs the words against your cheek, his lips trailing down to your neck. You tell him that it’s okay, trying to find a comfortable position on top of him, and that’s when his thigh presses against your core, your eyes widening at the unexpected sensation. Logan’s no fool, noticing the way your breath hitches. “What’s wrong, baby? You woke up needy?”

“No, I just—” you trail off as he does it again, his strong thigh coming in contact with your clothed cunt. You search for leverage by placing your hands on his shoulders, glancing at him. “Logan.”

“I’m all ears,” he rests his back against the headboard, the tent in his boxers impossible to ignore. “You want to get off on my thigh,” he states with certainty. It’s not a question—it’s a full-on statement. He knows what you want, what you crave. “Come on then. Grind against it.”

You do as he says, not caring to think twice. You start moving, rubbing your wet pussy against his muscular thigh. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and soon, you’re whimpering his name, your hands trailing down his abs. Why hadn’t you tried this before? It feels fucking amazing.

From his position, Logan stares at you, his lips slightly parted, eyes clouded with lust. Your arousal drenches your panties, soaking through them, the fabric clinging to his coarse leg hair. He glances down at the mess you’re making, his grin widening as he takes in the sight. “Goddamn, woman. I’m gonna make you clean it off, I swear to God.”

“Need your help,” you whisper, lowering your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. The coil tightening inside you is almost unbearable. A kiss is what you lean in for, desperate for more, though Logan appears to have other plans. He fists your hair, pulling at your nape and yanking your head back. The roughness of the movement pulls a moan from your lips, your mouth parched like a desert.

“Eyes up here, okay? You look at me when I make you come,” his raspy voice makes you feel tingly, each word sending shivers down your spine. His hands fiercely grab the flesh of your hips, guiding you, helping you grind harder against his thigh. You think you’re on the verge of drooling when you catch the way his abdomen flexes, working to push you toward that long-awaited release. “That’s it, there you go,” he rasps, relishing the sounds he’s eliciting from you, each of your gasps feeding his desire.

Time slows as the warmth in your belly finally erupts, your eyes fighting to stay open through the aftershocks of your orgasm. No actual words leave your mouth, just a string of whines and moans, some carrying Logan’s name. He swallows every single sound you make, everything you give him, grunting as your legs tremble and shake atop him.

He lets you collapse onto your back, your breathing gradually evening out. “I think I saw fireworks behind my lids,” you confess, your mouth dry, expecting Logan to flop onto the mattress beside you. But he doesn’t. Through your blurry vision, you contemplate as he positions himself between your parted legs, getting dangerously close to your cunt. “Logan, what are you— Oh, fuck,” you moan mid-sentence when you feel him pulling your panties aside to lick a slow strip through your folds, collecting your arousal. He points his tongue, dipping it into your entrance, and you wince, squirming. “Santa Claus, is that you?”

Logan grins against you, closing his mouth around clit for a moment. He then shifts until he’s eye-to-eye with you, two of his fingers sliding into you in one smooth motion. “Give me another one,” he murmurs, his other hand slipping under your shirt to play with your nipples, pinching them.

You never imagined two fingers could bring such intense pleasure. You just lie there, taking it like a good girl, as Logan sometimes call you. “Please, I need you,” you cry out, your fingernails scraping against his torso.

“I know, darlin’. I’m right here,” he rasps against your temple, moving his fingers in and out of you with more enthusiasm. But what he doesn’t understand is that you need all of him. Your hands itch to touch him, to feel the weight of his cock. The corners of his mouth turn up as he watches you struggle to find words. “Wish you could see yourself like this. Such a pretty girl, so gorgeous like this,” his fingers keep grazing that bundle of joy deep inside you, and he goes in for a kiss, the sour taste of your slick invading your taste buds. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever had. Need to stretch you real good before fucking you with my cock.”

Bingo! That last sentence does it for you, and you come for the second time in the morning, your cunt clenching and spasming around his fingers. You hide your face in his neck, mouthing at his Adam’s apple. He hasn’t trimmed his beard in days, and it shows because you can now feel a burning sensation on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“You’re allowed to break all my phones from now on,” you suggest, only to hear Logan’s laughter in your ear. He snakes a hand through your hair, shoving it back away from your face. You feel him kiss your sweaty forehead, and as you press yourself closer to his body, something hard nudges your hipbone.

Absentmindedly, you trace the waistband of his boxers with your index finger, your eyes snapping to his face. Logan freezes on the spot, and it’s almost as if he’s stopped breathing. Without a word, he rises from the bed, his movements sudden and almost mechanical. You watch him, puzzled, as he heads toward the bathroom, the intimacy of just moments ago being abruptly replaced by a dreadful silence.

“Logan, is everything okay? Do you need something?” you ask and he pauses at the bathroom door, his back to you. For a brief second, you think he might actually open up, but when he turns around, his expression is neutral, masking whatever thoughts are running through his mind. At last, he flashes you a quick smile.

“I’m fine,” he says, his tone gentle but distant. “Just gonna take a shower. Then we can have breakfast together, right?”

You nod, his words easing the growing sense of frustration gnawing at you. He disappears into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon follows. You sink back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You take your pillow and bury your face in it, letting out a muffled groan. There’s something he isn't telling you, something hidden deep beneath his usual gruff exterior. Although you try to piece together the fragments of his behavior, they don’t quite fit.

The minutes drag on, and the sound of the shower becomes a distant, constant background noise. You close your eyes, visualizing your happy place, but your thoughts keep spiraling. All you can do is wait—wait for him to come back and act as if nothing had happened.

Logan’s right there, just a few feet away—yet in moments like these, he feels miles apart. It’s one of those days in which, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to bridge that distance.

It had all started with you asking Logan “Have you ever watched (500) Days of Summer?”

Of course, he had refused to watch the movie at first, and of course, you had threatened him with phoning Wade to let him know that Logan wanted to have a sleepover. That had done the trick.

You had asked for a day off at the bar, and surprisingly, your boss hadn’t objected. That turn of events led to this moment: sprawled out on the couch with Logan, the two of you watching the final minutes of your favorite film. Logan takes a long drag of his cigar, eyes trained intently on the screen. He’s only wearing sweatpants, which had caused your attention to drift from the plot a few times. The fact that you managed to sit through the entire movie without needing to pause it makes you feel particularly invincible.

Hey.

You again.

Yeah. I, uh, was just wondering if maybe after this, if, um, you— you want to get some coffee or something.

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sort of supposed to meet someone after this.

Okay.

“That poor fella,” Logan murmurs, taking a slow sip of his beer. You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, a contented smile playing on your lips. His fingers absently stroke your hair.

“Just wait,” you say, pointing to the screen of your laptop.

Sure.

What’s that?

Why not?

Okay. Well, then I’ll just, uh— I’ll wait for you.

We— we’ll figure it out.

We’ll figure it out.

“They’ll figure it out!” you exclaim, but Logan quickly shushes you, his attention unwavering.

My name’s Tom.

Nice to meet you. I’m Autumn.

When the movie comes to an end, you’re met with Joseph Gordon-Levitt breaking the fourth wall, staring straight at the audience as if he knows he’s about to get himself into a mess with another girl named after a season. You sit up, your eyes eagerly searching for Logan’s. “So? Did you like it? I’ve watched it seven times now. Can’t understand how it gets better each time.”

Logan closes his mouth around his cigar, inhaling deeply before answering. “Yeah, it was pretty good,” he says, his hand finding your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Summer’s a bitch, though.”

“I respectfully disagree,” you tell him, grabbing his beer and giving it a try, only to grimace at the taste. Shuddering, you set it back down. “Why don’t you like her character?”

“Well, for starters, she did Tom dirty. Played with him like he was a damn rag doll.”

You raise an eyebrow, hugging a cushion closer to your chest as you lean back into the couch. “He knew from the beginning she didn’t want to be his girlfriend. Summer was clear—Tom just though he was smart enough to change her mind.”

“They acted like boyfriend and girlfriend the whole movie,” he scorns, placing his cigar down into the ashtray with a bit more force than necessary.

Is your first argument going to be over a movie? Exciting.

“Logan, they weren’t even official.”

“But she made it seem like they were,” he insists, the frustration in his voice growing.

“They were in a situationship—the perfect example, really. That’s not the same as being a couple.”

His gaze dips to the floor, brows knitted in a deep frown. “I think you’re relying on the technicality that they never used those titles. I mean, they did everything together. Isn’t that what normal couples do?”

Lord have mercy.

“Logan, who am I to you?” you inquire, crossing your arms over your chest.

He hesitates, narrowing his eyes, the question clearly catching him off guard. “You are—what? I don’t understand. Is this some kind of mind game you’re playing?”

“It’s actually very simple: if someone were to ask you about me, what would you say? Am I a friend? A bartender?” you inch forward, holding your breath, your tone faltering slightly. Meanwhile, Logan’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. “A fling? Your girlfriend? You complain so much about Summer, yet you can’t even name what we have.”

The living room falls into a heavy silence. Logan blinks slowly, his forehead creasing as he processes your words. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because these are the kinds of conversations we need to have. I understand you don’t want to have them, but I do.”

“Fine. Then tell me what it is that you want,” he asks, his mouth snapping shut when he sees you snorting in response.

“I don’t— I don’t know! To know how you feel, if possible?” you stand up from the couch, taking the cushion with you. You grind your jaw, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Why is it that every time I try to touch you, you push me away?”

He scrunches up his face, mirroring your movements and rising from his seat. “Bub, can we please talk about this tomorrow—”

“No! You don’t get to make all the choices, that’s not fair. Deciphering you isn’t easy, Logan. I’m not asking you to tell me everything you’ve been through. I just wish I could know how you feel about me. I can’t stand in front of you and pretend I don’t mind where this is going, because I’m more than sure I’m falling in love with you. “

“You can’t. You shouldn’t,” he says, his expression hardening. He turns his back to you, running his hands over his face in frustration before heading to the kitchen.

“Well, what were you expecting?” you follow him into the kitchen, finding Earnest on top of the fridge, beholding the scene with a curious gaze. “You basically moved in here, gave me a free trial of what life with you might be like, and now you have the audacity to appear surprised when I tell you I’ve caught feelings?” salty tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you spread your arms wide in exasperation. “Oh, but you’re right. How could I’ve been this stupid, to fall for the damned Wolverine!” you laugh bitterly, expecting him to break eye contact, but he doesn’t. “You think you’re so bad, so broken. Guess what: you’re not, because I love you, and I couldn’t care less about your past. You may think you’re unlovable, but you’re not, you hear me?”

For a heartbeat, the world seems to pause. And so he says:

“You are the most exasperating person I know.”

“Wow. Thank you so much!” you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You run a hand through your hair, infuriated. “That makes me feel better!”

“Let me do the talking now,” he says, taking long strides toward you, and the proximity makes you lower your head. “You’re not getting the final say today. Just because I’m not over-sharing my feelings all the time doesn’t mean I don’t have them! In fact, I do. I may not express them openly, but they exist. And I wish you could see inside my head! You’d be delighted at how much time I spend thinking about you,” you cackle at his words, rolling your eyes. His fingers grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “There hasn’t been a single moment since the day we met that I have stopped wanting you. Your voice is like a goddamn radio that, no matter what I do, I can’t turn off. It’s like I’m infected by you, and I hate it!” his eyes burn with a mix of anger and affectionpur, his pursed lips softening as he continues. “No good ever comes from caring this much about someone. So excuse me for being scared of ruining the only good thing that’s happened to me in years!”

You hit him with the cushion—not with enough force to make him hurt, but enough to make a point.

“Drop it, kid.”

“I’m—” you hit him again, “not—” and again, “stupid. I know what I’m getting myself into,” as you attempt to raise the cushion once more, Logan takes it from your hands, throwing it on the counter. Your shoulders sag, trying to find the strength to keep going. “And I know for a fact,” you add, glancing at his conflicted eyes, “that the easiest thing for me would be to walk away from you, but I can’t. It’s too fucking late.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do! These are my feelings, okay? Mine, not yours. You don’t have the right to decide who I love and who I don’t.”

Logan’s eyes squint, scanning your face. “You’re… obnoxious.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“And I—I love you,” he confesses, his nostrils flaring with emotion. Opening your mouth to say something, you close it moments later, your gaze locked on his. “You could take what you said, pretend as if I didn’t exist, and I wouldn’t say a thing, y’understand? I would move cities if you asked me, because I love you that fucking much, and I want you to be happy.”

You reach for his hand, briefly intertwining your fingers with his. Looking at him through your eyelashes, you rub your fingers over his stubble. “And what if my happiness comes from being with you?”

Logan lets out a harsh breath, his arm curling around your waist, pressing his chest to yours. “I can’t promise I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. I’ll probably makeplenty of mistakes.”

“Fine with me.”

“And you’ll be mad at me. A lot.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure it’s mutual.”

Both of you laugh then, and you’re taken aback when he brushes his nose against your cheek, silently seeking permission to kiss you. His lips move hungrily against yours, trailing his hands down your spine, pulling you closer. He breaks the kiss and laughs at your eagerness when you chase after his mouth. You end up perched on his lap as he settles into one of your kitchen chairs. Logan stares into your eyes, his gaze drifting lower. “I won’t push you away this time. Not anymore.”

That’s your cue to finally do what you’ve been yearning for weeks. You fall to your knees in front of him, shaky fingers that graze the hairs on his happy trail. The bulge in his sweatpants is close to your face, and your mouth waters at the thought of having him between your lips. “Can I?” you ask, your voice a touch higher.

He draws a long breath, tilting his head slightly. “You may, baby.”

You pull at his sweatpants and boxers, sliding them down his legs just enough to free his hard cock. As you take a look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, the sight overwhelming. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips, that musky scent of his hitting you.

A whimper escapes you, and Logan hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, darlin’. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he cants his hips up, causing your movements to stutter. “You can take a bit more, can’t you?” his question ends with a guttural grunt, his fingers tightening on your hair. “Gotta show me how much you want this.”

Logan takes all that you give him. You lower your head further, taking in another inch of him. Sex’s supposed to feel good, but this? It feels even greater. And he’s not even inside you yet, you hear a voice murmur in your head. The hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you sneak a hand between your bodies, grasping him by the base. You swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair..

“Thaaaat’s it, honey. Just like that, want you to choke on it,” he grumbles, running his mouth just the way you like. The tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat and tears fill your eyes. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure. Logan’s gaze is intense, and he stares into your soul, his chest heaving. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Dick got your tongue?”

You’ll definitely get back to that joke later.

“Will you—can you—”

“Come on, beautiful. I don’t have all day.”

God, you love it when he’s mean.

“Fuck my throat,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

A smile dangles on the corner of his lips. “We both know you can be nicer.”

The fucker makes your pulse race. “Can you fuck my throat?” you ask again, more insistently. “Please.”

He guides himself into your mouth, smirking as he watches how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “How polite of you to say please. Some good manners you’ve got.”

You whimper around him, your body responding to the rhythm he sets, fully immersed in the intensity of the moment. And for a while, you drift away, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. It’s almost impossible not to compare him to your past hookups. You try to recall at least a single instance when another man made you feel this way, but no memory surfaces.

Time seems to stretch and warp. You don’t really know when it happens—he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, examining you. “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with that sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. Defeated, Logan shakes his head, pressing his finger against your tongue. “I was planning on coming on your mouth, but I think I’ve got a better idea.”

In the blink of an eye, you’re in your bedroom. Not even a metaphor—he picks you up and basically runs to your room, closing the door behind him. You prop yourself on your forearms, trying to process what’s about to happen. Logan, already naked, climbs onto the bed after you, He kisses you slowly, tracing the curves of your body. “You still want this?”

“I do. I’m just… nervous, that’s all,” you admit, flashing him a quick smile. “It’s been two years of celibacy for me. Will it fit?” you ask, glancing down at his cock, and Logan stares at you in confusion. “Also, how many girlfriends have you had? Just curious.”

“I don’t think this is the time for that conversation.”

“You’re right,” you agree, lying back on the mattress, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Were they pretty?”

“Bub.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” he replies with a smirk. “Focus on me, okay?”

Despite your tries to crack jokes at the worst possible moment, things escalate pretty quickly. Logan’s got three fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. He’s already made you come once with his mouth—to get you more relaxed, he had said. Wanting sounds slip past your lips as he doesn’t miss the chance to hit that spot that makes you squeeze your legs together. The tip of his nose drags long lines up and down the skin of your neck, mouthing at your jaw.

“I’m ready,” you mumble after some minutes, reaching for his cock and stroking him. “Let’s break the bed.”

“You’re lucky you’re this cute,” he says, catching your lips in a kiss. “Condom?”

“Negative, Sergeant.”

“You don’t have any?”

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want you to use one.”

The way his gaze darkens doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand guides your face toward his cock. “Get me wet,” he commands, and you oblige, sucking him into your mouth. You hum around him, unable to contain yourself, and you hear Logan chuckling above you. “Can’t believe this is what it takes for you to shut up. Gotta keep your mouth full all the time.”

Once he’s satisfied with the way you’ve slicked him, he positions himself over you, caging you between his arms. Logan pins you down with his body, his hot breath mingling with yours. When you stare into his eyes, all you see is pure love, and your heart swells with affection. “Will you fuck the bad jokes out of me?”

Logan laughs, rubbing his length along your folds, grazing your clit for a fleeting second. “I sure as hell will,” he assures you, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks into your eyes for approval. “Ready?”

“I was born rea— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head breaches you, your eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. “Fucking mutant dick.”

“You’ll love it, believe me,” he husks next to your ear. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. Logan pulls out, and then fucks into you with a little more force. “How are you still so tight? You’re killin’ me here.”

“I’ve got no idea, but you feel—amazing,” you gasp, latching onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. “Oh, god. I can feel you in my stomach.”

“I know, baby, I know. Can feel it too,” he curls one of his hands around your throat, keeping you in place. From his position, he can watch the way your face contorts in pleasure. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips, he sucks hard. “You were desperate enough to get on your knees in the damn kitchen. You’ll be good now too, am I right?”

“Yes. Yes. I can be good,” you pant, eyes wide and pleading. “Anything you want. Just don’t stop.”

“I’m not stoppin’, princess. Don’t worry,” his mouth curves into a wicked grin as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. His hand on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make you feel the pressure, grounding you in the moment. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs against your chest, his voice laden with need.

Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Logan’s grip on your neck loosens as his hand slides down to grasp your hip. He squeezes your tender flesh, pulling you harder against him, as if he can’t get close enough. The bed creaks under the intensity, but you barely notice, too far lost in the rhythm of his movements.

“You’re perfect, all I’ve ever wanted,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” you hear him repeat, more to himself than to you, his voice stranded as he tries to hold himself back, letting you chase your own release first.

The pressure inside you builds up, tightening with every skilled flick of his fingers. You’re sure you must look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, though the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Logan, I’m—” you croak, the wind being knocked out of your lungs with each relentless thrust. “I think I’m gonna come.”

He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you, let go for me. I’ll take care of you, baby, I swear,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall. Your body obeys him, a shuddering release tearing through you, moaning Logan’s name and gripping him like a vice. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, driving you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, contemplating how wrecked you look. “Tell me where—please, sweetheart.”

“Inside.”

“What?”

“I said inside. Come inside me, Logan.”

He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. Logan buries himself to the hilt, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls with his thick seed. Beside your head, his claws unsheate, tearing into the pillow. He ruts against you, his body trembling and writhing against yours, already apologizing for the pillow incident while pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m sorry. That hasn’t happened in a while.”

When Logan collapses beside you, he pulls you into his arms, kissing you eagerly. You return the kiss, wincing as you feel a bit of his cum slip out of you, rolling down your thighs. He stares at your glistening cunt without an ounce of remorse, and you close your legs. “That’s private.”

“It wasn’t very private a minute ago.”

“Logan?”

“Tell me, bub.”

“Knock, knock.”

He must truly love you, because he plays along: “Who’s there?”

“Ice cream.”

“Ice cream who?”

“Ice cream for you all night long.”

“Guess I didn’t succeed in fuckin’ the bad jokes out of you,” he teases softly, letting his head fall back on the bed. “But it’s fine. I’ll just have to keep tryin’.”

This is the story of how you end up dating a man who’s two hundred years old. But it’s also the story of how that same man learns to let his guard down and open his heart. So, remember this, kids: the sky’s the limit, especially when it comes to love—and yes, even when it involves dating mutants.

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

4K notes · View notes

fuckyeahgoodomens · 11 months ago

Text

SFX Magazine Issue 372 - Designing Good Omens ❤ 😊

PRODUCTION DESIGNER MICHAEL RALPH REVEALS HOW THE SHOW’S CENTREPIECE SET, WHICKBER STREET, WAS GIVEN A DEVILISHLY CLEVER UPGRADE FOR THE SECOND SEASON

WORDS: DAVE GOLDER

Invisible Columns And Thin Walls “The new studio is Pyramid Studios in Bathgate – it used to be a furniture warehouse. And unfortunately – or fortunately, because I accept these things as not challenges but gifts – right down the middle of that studio are a series of upright columns. But you’ll never spot them on screen. I had to build them in and integrate them into the walls and still get the streets between them. And it worked.

“There’s all sorts of cheeky design values to those sets. Normally a set like this is double-skin. In other words, you do an interior wall and an exterior wall, with an airspace in between. But really, the only time a viewer notices that there’s that width is at the doors and the windows. So I cheated all that. I ended up with single walls everywhere. So the exterior wall is the interior wall, just painted. All I did was make the sash windows and entrances wider to give it some depth as you walked in.”

GOOD OMENS HAD A CHANGE of location for its second season, but hopefully you didn’t notice. Because Whickber Street in Soho upped sticks from an airfield in Hertfordshire to a furniture warehouse in Bathgate, Edinburgh. It’s the kind of nonsensical geographical shenanigans that could only make sense in the crazy world of film and TV, and production designer Michael Ralph was the man in charge of rebuilding and expanding the show’s vast central set. “I wish we could have built more in season one than we did,” says Ralph, whose previous work has included Primeval and Dickensian. “We built the ground floor of everything and the facades of all the shops. But we didn’t build anything higher than that, because we were out on an airfield in a very, very difficult terrain and weather conditions, so we really couldn’t go much higher. Visual effects created the upper levels.”

But with season two the set has gone to a whole other level… literally. “What happened was that the rest of the street became integrated into the series’s storyline,” explains Ralph. “So we needed a record shop, we needed a coffee shop that actually had an inside, we needed a magic shop, we needed the pub. To introduce those meant we had to change the street with a layout that works from a storylines point of view. In other words, things like someone standing at the counter in the record shop had to be able to eyeball somebody standing at the counter in the coffee shop. They had to be able to eyeball Aziraphale sitting in his office in the window of the bookshop. But the rest of it was a pleasure to do inside, because we could expand it and I could go up two storeys.”

For most of the set, which is around 80 metres long and 60 metres wide, the two storeys only applied to the shop frontages, but in the case of Aziraphale’s bookshop, it allowed Ralph to build the mezzanine level for real this time. According to Ralph it became one of the cast and crews’ favourite places to hang out during down time.

But while AZ Fell & Co has grown in height, it actually has a slightly smaller footprint because of the logistics of adapting it to the new studio.

“Everybody swore to me that no one would notice,” says Ralph wryly. “I walked onto it and instinctively knew there was a difference immediately, and they hated me for that. I have this innate sense about spatial awareness and an eye like a spirit level.

“It’s not a lot, though – I think we’ve lost maybe two and a half feet on the front wall internally. I think that there’s a couple of other smaller areas, but only I’d notice. So I can be really annoying to my guys, but only on those levels. Not on any other. They actually quite like me…”

Populating The Bookshop “The props in the new bookshop set were a flawless reproduction from the set decorator Bronwyn Franklin [who is also Ralph’s wife]. It was really the worst-case scenario after season one. She works off the concept art that I produce, but what she does is she adds so much more to the character of the set. She doesn’t buy anything she doesn’t love, or doesn’t fit the character.

“But the things she put a lot of work into finding for season one, they were pretty much one-offs. When we burnt the set down in the sixth episode, we lost a lot of props, many of which had been spotted and appreciated by the fans. So Bronwyn had to discover a new set decorating technique: forensic buying.

“She found it all – duplicates and replicas. It took ages. In that respect, the Covid delay was very helpful for Bron. There’s 7,000 books in there and there’s not one fake book. That’s mainly because… it’s a weird thing to say, but we wanted it to smell and feel like a bookshop to everybody that was in it, all the time.

“It affects everybody subliminally; it affects everybody’s performance – actors and crew – it raises the bar 15 to 20%. And the detail, you know… We love a lot of detail.”

(look at the description under this, they called him 'Azi' hehehehe :D <3)

Aziraphale’s Inspirational Correspondence “There’s not one single scrap of paper on Aziraphale’s desk that isn’t written specifically for Aziraphale. Every single piece is not just fodder that’s been shoved there, it has a purpose; it’s a letter of thanks, or an enquiry about a book or something.

“Michael Sheen is so submerged in his character he would get lost sitting at his own desk, reading his own correspondence between takes. I believe wholeheartedly that if you put that much care into every single piece of detail, on that desk and in that room, that everybody feels it, including the crew, and then they give that set the same respect it deserves.

“They also lift their game because they believe that they’re doing something of so much care and value. Really, it’s a domino effect of passion and care for what you’re producing.”

Alternative Music “My daughter Mickey is lead graphic designer [two of Ralph’s sons worked on the series too, one as a concept artist, the other in props]. They’re the ones that produced all of that handwritten work on the desk. She’s the one that took on the record shop and made up 80 band names so that we didn’t have to get copyright clearance from real bands. Then she produced records and sleeves that spanned 50, 60 years of their recordings, and all of the graphics on the walls.

“I remember Michael and Neil [Gaiman] getting lost following one band’s history on the wall, looking at their posters and albums desperately trying to find out whether they survived that emo period.”

It’s A Kind Of Magic One of the new shops in Whickber Street for season two was Will Goldstone’s Magic Shop, which is full of as many Easter eggs as off-the-shelf conjuring tricks, including a Matt Smith Doctor Who-style fez and a toy orang-utan that’s a nod to Discworld’s The Librarian. Ralph says that while the series is full of references to Gaiman, Pratchett and Doctor Who, Michael Sheen never complained about a lack of Masters Of Sex in-jokes. “He’d be the last person to make that sort of comment!”

Ralph also reveals that the magic shop counter was another one of his wife’s purchases, bought at a Glasgow reclamation yard.

The Anansi Boys Connection Ralph reveals that Good Omens season two used the state-of-the-art special effects tech Volume (famous for its use in The Mandalorian to create virtual backdrops) for just one sequence, but he will be using it extensively elsewhere on another Gaiman TV series being made for Prime Video.

“We used Volume on the opening sequence to create the creation of the universe. I was designing Anansi Boys in duality with this project, which seems an outrageously suicidal thing to do. But it was fantastic and Anansi Boys was all on Volume. So I designed for Volume on one show and not Volume on the other. The complexities and the psychology of both is different.”

4K notes · View notes

goldenlikedayl1ght · 4 months ago

Text

...ready for it? - j.l. howlett

a/n: hi! here's a full version of a blurb i wrote a few days ago that got so much love so quick that i wanted to give yall a full version! the beginning is literally just the blurb but after that it's all new! like many of you wolverine brainrot has hit me hard, so here's graphic smut about him. leave a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed :) warnings: SMUT!!!!! some dumbification, use of pet names, reader is fem, reader is a mutant and able to control plants, lots of cursing, lots of grotesque fliritng/fantasies, some soft moments, some sort of primal sex, oral (fem receiving), some of the setting is probs inaccurate but whatever. let me know if i missed any big ones!! word count: 4.9 k summary: well, you had to find some way of entertaining yourself at charles xavier's school for gifted youngsters. and you have always liked an emotionally unavailable, absolutely hung, challenge. pairing: logan howlett x mutant!reader now playing: ...ready for it? - taylor swift "in the middle of the night, in my dreams/you should see the things we do, baby/in the middle of the night in my dreams/i know i'm gonna be with you, so i take my time"

You are absolutely enthralled with him. It’s actually sort of pathetic how your fingers twitch at the sight of him, at how the mention of his name or god forbid the sound of his voice makes your head snap up, attention deficit disorders be damned!

Funnily enough, you had no damn interest in Xavier’s stupid mutant school, because to you, you’re not an outsider because of your mutant abilities (that don’t have much of a physical apparition, at least one that you can’t hide) but because there’s never been much of a place for you to fit in.

But, you were behind on rent and of course, you fucking hate your job, so why not? You’d be able to be slightly less of a freak, and you’d get free room and board in the process! (Where Charles gets all of his money, you do not know.)

And because you’re a little older, Charles doesn’t force you to sit in a class room to learn about basic arithmetic and grammar lessons, so you really only do some training around three times a day, you have your own room (with a dusty box under the other bed, you also suspect your room used to be the ‘sex’ room) and you have the weekends off.

So for a twenty something year old with few ambitions, the social skills of a Martian with autism, and a huge crush on every older emotionally unavailable man you meet, it’s a pretty good set-up.

You’re waiting for time to pass in the garden, just reading a rather interesting book that Charles had recommended after he noticed you needed something to pass time before you started making bad decisions.

You hear his heavy footsteps on the gravel before you see him. Your heart beats faster, but you will yourself, do everything in your power not to glance up at him. And you let out a breath as you succeed, keeping your head down.

“In your natural habitat, are you, spitfire?” Your head darts up to him—There’s no way he isn’t talking to you, you know you’re the only one in this garden. And you can see his lips twitch up and you want to crawl out of your skin!

“My-My natural habitat?” You laugh, closing the book you’re reading because your attention is locked to him now.

“Yeah, seems like it.” He saunters on up to you and sits on the bench next to you.

And let’s make something very clear—

Logan Howlett does not sit.

This man poses, as if there’s always some invisible camera capturing every frame of movement, from the way his legs spread out, to the way his chest lifts when he inhales.

Fuck, you think you might die if you can’t suck him off right now.

“And what exactly is my uh.. habitat?” You question.

He takes out his lighter and a cigar, placing the cigar in his mouth as he gestures to the space around the two of you, lighter in hand.

“A garden.” He says, matter of facility, as his voice is muffled only the slightest bit by the cigar.

And you just sort of look at him before asking,

“Oh, you enjoy being boiled down to your mutations, Claws?” You question, and as he goes to light the cigar, he smirks.

“Alright, you gotta admit though, it is cliché!”

You are absolutely in agreement, there is zero doubt you are as much of a walking, breathing, real life living, stereotype.

“It is not!” And the pair of you give each other this look, like you’re both shocked at how whiney that statement is!

“Uh-huh, sure, Spitfire.” It sounds almost like he’s purring at you.

When he lights his cigar, he’s sort of eying you for your reaction, whatever you might say.

“You know, smoking is not only bad for you, it’s awful for the environment.”

“You’re probably the most cliché little freak around here.” Which.. honestly..? Shouldn’t possibly turn you on as much as it does.

You just stare at him for a minute, and he smirks.

“Cat got your tongue?’

And maybe it’s stupid and maybe it’s immature but your hand just comes over to fiddle with the pointed part of his hair.

“We’ll you certainly look the part.” He just looks at you, and honestly? The way he’s looking at you, it’s like he’s proud of you for teasing him.

“Aw, there’s my little spitfire,” He teases, just to see how red you get. And red you are— it’s embarrassing. And here’s the kicker—You are young. Exceptionally young, and what’s insane about that? How horny it makes both you and Logan.

The idea of fucking your innocent cunt, tight and all his, drives him genuinely mad. And you are, quite literally, a whore for the idea of riding this older man’s dick. You know he’s big—sometimes you see the outerline of it when he walks away from you all huffy and puffy.

“You’re a tease, Claws.” You respond, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Says you,” he raises and eyebrow, leaning closer to you now, “You’re the one laying around in the sun, looking like that.”

“Looking like this?” You scoff. You’re wearing a muscle tee and a pair of ripped jeans, but the gaps are huge and he can see your thighs. He wants to devour you, and you would let him if he only asked.

And let’s be clear—he is fucking you with his eyes. There’s no way to go around it.

“I think you’re just.. horny.” You tease, and he just growls. Seriously, this man who is undressing you with his eyes, growls, because he does want you and he is horny!

“I think you’re onto something.” He purrs, and you want to just.. god. You don’t know how to express the pit of desire that grows in you. “I would fuck you until you couldn’t think, right here among your pretty flowers. Would you like that, baby?” he asks, his hand finding your thigh.

But you just cough on the smoke from his cigar, before frowning.

“You really shouldn’t smoke.”

“Aw, I’ll make it up to you.” He smirked. “Promise, spitfire.”

He’s very close to you now, so you take a second to just breath and you know that he knows that he’s got you—hook, line, and sweet, sweet sinker.

And then you realize what exactly it is that you’ve gotten yourself into. And what a nightmare it is—Or maybe a dream if you listen to the pathetic part of your brain, but you are into this an in a way that is concerning for your own mental wellbeing and desperately want to avoid him having all the power in this situation.

“Oh, I am sure you will.” You assure. You lean forward, plucking the cigar from his lips, and placing it on the ground, squashing it beneath your heel. With a flick of your wrist, vines and grass grow over the cigar, composting it. And from the vines, grows a small little buttercup flower.

You lean down and pluck the flower from the grass, before tucking it behind Logan’s ear.

“You should take care of that hard-on you have, Claws.” You hum, before standing up, and walking away. And for a minute, he just watches you go—partly to because you have an amazing ass, but partly because you have absolutely flabbergasted him.

And have made him want you even more.

• • •

The next time you see him is the next night, in the woods near the mansion. Because the literal sixteen year olds you go to ‘school’ with do not know how to do anything on the weekend except drink, fuck, and smoke.

Honestly, you kind of fit in great.

So here you are, nursing a mason jar of.. some fucked up concoction, and you’re not too sure what’s in it, but you have drunk two of them and are on your third. You think you might live forever, until you glance up and see Logan, in these fuck me jeans and this burnt orange flannel and a wife beater.

Instantly, you know that you’ll die tonight if you don’t have him.

He approaches you with this cocky smirk as if he hasn’t realized your intoxicated state yet.

“Now what’s a little spitfire like you doing all alone on a Friday night?” he questions, tilting his head. His smirk is deadly. And you roll your eyes.

“Here comes the big bad Wolverine, all bark and no bite.” You scoff, and his eyes flash with surprise. Only for a second, but even drunk, you notice the way his eyes shoot up in surprise.

“All bark and no bite? That’s quite the accusation.” He hums.

“Well, we’ve been.. eye fucking each other for a few weeks now, and you haven’t even kissed me yet. I get being into foreplay and edging, but holy shit, Claws, throw a girl a bone once in a while.” You scoff, and for a moment, he just looks at you.

“Are you.. drunk?”

“Do you think I’m drunk?”

“Yeah, you’re drunk.” He sighs. You respond by taking another sip of your drink, but before the bitter liquor hits your tongue, he snatches the bottle from you.

“Let me take you home.” You’re sure your eyes look like hearts, so, dreamily and a little love struck, you respond,

“’Kay.”

And he chuckles a little bit at that.

“We’re not gonna do anything, I’m just gonna walk you home, spitfire.” He starts, and your face falls a little bit, but in an effort to hide it, you respond,

“..’kay.” And he sees right through you. You’re pretty much an open book. And the alcohol doesn’t help. His pointer finger and thumb comes to your chin, and he gently rubs his thumb against your lip.

“Don’t be like that, pup. It’ll happen soon. Just not tonight, okay?” He assures.

“’Kay.” You answer softly, and you think he smiles at you but your vision is sort of blurry. Then, you blink, as a gust of wind moves through the trees, sending a shiver down your spine. He sighs, and wordlessly takes off his flannel, before wrapping it around you. Your arms slip into the sleeves, and you almost cry because it’s like, the best hug in the entire world. “Won’t.. you be cold, then?” you question, and he just shakes his head.

“Let’s get you home, spitfire.” He holds a handout to you, and without a second thought, you take his hand. He wraps his arm around you, and you lean against him like it’s something the two of you do often. If you were sober, you might short circuit. But, you’re not, so it feels right.

The walk home is quiet, but Logan’s thumb gently rubs against your shoulder. He wants to do more, but he knows he shouldn’t, since you are in fact plastered.

You ignore the giggles and whispers from teenagers making their way past you to the party or to their rooms, and you even ignore the way their giggles stop when they meet Logan’s gaze.

When you get back to your room, you take a second to lean against the door, and he takes a second to admire the way you look in his clothes.

“Ready for bed?” he asks gently, and you just smile at him.

“You’re really pretty.” He just does the half scoff-half chuckle that you’re obsessed with. Then, he wraps his arm around you again, opening the door to your room, and guiding you inside. He gets you to your bed and sits you down, before kneeling in front of you to untie your boots. “Has anyone ever told you how good you look on your knees?” you ask.

He just gives you this smirk.

“One or two pretty girls back in the day.” He says, “None as pretty as you though, spitfire.” He says, and you groan, leaning back and laying on the bed, as he pulls off your boots.

“You’re awful.” And you need him.

“Yes, I know, baby.” His voice is almost condescending, and it turns you on. But then he stands up, grabbing the folded blanket from the edge of your bed, and laying it over you. He finds his place kneeling next to you again as you stare at him, cozy in bed. His hands gently brush hair from your face. “Do you need anything else?”

“You.”

“Soon. But not yet, pup. You’re too drunk.” He says softly.

“Thanks for walking me home, Claws.”

“You’re very welcome, Spitfire.” He purrs, leaning forward and kissing your forehead gently. “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Logan.” You mumble as you drift off to sleep. He sits there for a few minutes, just looking at you for a long time before he gets up and creeps out of your room.

• • •

The next morning, you sit in the cafeteria, drinking a large coffee, and nursing the worst hangover, possibly of your life. Made even worse by the fractions of memories about what happened last night.

You rub your eyes, flinching when you hear the clatter of a plate on the table, and someone sitting across from you. You peek through the gaps of your fingers to see Logan sitting across from you, a smirk on his face.

He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it.

“I hate you. Shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” he laughs. But he sees how much pain you’re in, and slides two pieces of sourdough toast to you. “Truce?”

“Truce.” You agree, taking a slice and biting into it. You feel better.

And after a moment of silence, he asks,

“I’m never getting my flannel back, am I?”

Truthfully, the flannel has been folded neatly and tucked into your drawer, for the next time you need some comfort.

You tilt your head, looking right into his eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

• • •

Weeks go by like this.

You spend your days either going to class or hanging out—okay, it’s more like flirting with a side of hanging out, with Logan. The pair of you become quite close, and maybe that’s why you haven’t fucked yet.

Oh, the two of you want to, and it’s obvious to everyone (Charles has called you out for being distracted more times than you can count, and you remind him not to probe your mind, and he tells you he does not need his mutant abilities to see that your thoughts linger elsewhere.) but you’re.. afraid, at this point.

Which is odd, because you’re no virgin, you know he wants you, but.. what if everything changes after that? Maybe he’ll start to avoid you. Maybe you’ll start to avoid him. And you’ve really become good friends, and don’t want to lose it.

And then, there’s the fact that half the time, he’s away on dangerous missions, and even if he can regenerate, you worry about him. But he hasn’t been on any lately, so it’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You’re sitting in the garden when it happens.

He finds you, and this time, you do not even try to hide the way your head picks up and gazes at him.

“Hi, Spitfire.” He grins, and you smile a bit at him.

“Claws, what can I do for you?” And he sits next to you, and for some reason, maybe because he doesn’t say anything at first, you know that there is something wrong. And you know what it is.

After a few minutes, you glance to him.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Your voice is quiet, as if you’re scared that if it gets any louder, everything will fall apart.

“Yeah. Charles has me going on another mission.” He doesn’t say it, but you both know this isn’t an involuntary thing.

“Cool.” You cringe at your reaction.

“I guess.” He laughs weakly, as if he knows he’s twisting a knife buried within you.

Silence fills the air. It’s not necessarily uncomfortable, but it isn’t the relaxed silence you’re used to with him. Confessions dance on the tips of your tongues, and you’re so close to saying it, that when you turn to each other suddenly, you just need to look at each other for a second.

“Be safe.” You say quietly. “And hurry back.” You request, and you try not to sound like you’re begging.

“Of course.” He says, like it perplexes him that you even have to request. “I can’t leave you here yearning for me forever, can I?” He teases, and for a moment, you have this flash of an alternate universe where he does die on this mission and you are trapped in this garden forever, waiting for him. Like a lost puppy, or worse, a lost lover. The mere thought of it fucks with your head.

“No. You can’t. I won’t allow it.” You explain, “If anything, I’m the one that should be haunting you.” He just smiles. A real, not at all awkward smile.

“I’m sure you will, spitfire.” He says, and his head comes forward so that his forehead is resting against yours.

“When do you leave?” You ask gently, and he sighs. His breath smells of mint and cigar smoke, maybe even a hint of lemon.

“An hour. I have to pack quick and then debrief.” He answers you.

And just as love struck as you were the night of the party, you answer,

“’Kay.” You smile weakly at him. And he just.. looks at you for a few minutes before sighing again. He pulls away and leans up to kiss your forehead again, before standing up. He turns a few steps away from you just to tease you.

“Don’t miss me too much, okay?” he requests softly. Before you can stop yourself, you stand up, and wrap your arms around him. He only pauses for a half a second before he returns your embrace, and it becomes apparent that you both needed this moment. You stay like this for a few minutes before you pull away.

“Bring me back a souvenir.” You try, a soft smile on your face.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll bring you something great from the great city of Tulsa, Ohklahoma.” He grins.

“Deal.”

• • •

For the next week, you feel like this must be what it was like for housewives when their husbands went to war. You knew all too well that that statement was extremely dramatic, but you simply cannot help yourself.

You think you might die by day three.

It’s like you’re going through withdrawals and it’s making you go genuinely insane.

You have worn this man’s flannel for almost the entire week, because at first you’re a little self-conscious of other people noticing your repeating outfits, but only at first. By day four, you have decided you don’t give a single fuck.

Day eight you’re just laying in bed, quietly making a list of all the positions you want him to take you in. It’s a long list. You’re brought back to reality by a knock on your door. You’re about to snap, knowing that you’ll tell whatever child has been sent to bother you to scram, but when you open the door, you grin widely.

Logan stands there, looking tired, but he’s smiling and holding up a shot glass that reads ‘Tusla’, and has skyline on it.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d get you a souvenir?” He asks, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, pulling him in. He hugs you back, making sure to squeeze you just a bit—your feet barely come off the ground.

He pulls away, and you grin up to him.

“You came back.” You say it as if you can barely believe it, and just for a moment, he feels an emotion he can’t quite place, but he ignores it.

“Of course I came back, spitfire. All in one piece too, as requested.” He grins, and you’re just.. amazed at the look of him. “What’s that look for?” He asks gently, tilting his head.

“I just..” you start.

And then you break.

You lean up and kiss him gently, those stupidly delicious sideburns making your stomach flip. He doesn’t waste time, kissing you back, his arms around your waist. After a minute, you pull away.

“Sorry. I’m kind of done playing that game of waiting for you to kiss me. I just got the first hit of you I’ve had all week, and I feel fucking amazing.” You confess, and sure, it’s not a big grand love confession with tears and poetry, but your words make him kiss you so intensely that you start backing into your room, his hands exploring your body as you tug off his leather jacket, a new flannel for you to steal coming off soon after.

He keeps kissing you as his hands come down to your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them, before gently pushing you to sit on the bed. He kneels in front of you, and begins to tug off your boots again, then, on your jeans.

You grin.

“You know, I’m getting the oddest sense of déjà vu. Something about you looking great on your knees.” You tease, and he just tugs off your jeans in one strong swoop, before leaning in to bite your thigh. You gasp, your hands coming up to tug his hair.

Then, he begins to tug at your panties, and you tilt his head up, glancing at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, before I was interrupted, I was about to eat you out.”

“Wait, really?”

He blinks, confused.

“Yeah. Is that a, uh.. problem..?” He hasn’t gotten any complaints yet.

“I just.. I didn’t think guys actually did that, I thought it was just.. a porno thing.” And at this, the man who is about to burry his face between your thighs, laughs. And not just a chuckle, this man hollars. “What’s so funny, claws?” You ask, a little suspicious.

“Nothing,” he promises, “I am just going to take such good care of you, pup.”

“I’m holding you to that, claws.” And then, he leans in and begins to kiss your thighs, gently biting down here and there. Then, he licks a stripe along your cunt, and you let out this loud moan, and your hand comes up to clamp over your mouth, but he reaches up to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

He pulls away to lecture you. Lecture you. On his knees. Head between your thighs.

“Nuh-uh, I wanna hear all the pretty noises you can make for me.” Then, softer, he adds, “Never been eaten out before, fuckin’ travesty.” He mumbles, before leaning in to lick your cunt again, beginning to lap his tongue over your throbbing heat.

His nose rubs against your clit, and it’s enough to drive you genuinely crazy. You’re unsure how you’ve gotten to this point in your life without having your pussy worshipped like this, but with him around, you’re pretty sure you’ll never go another day without it.

His tongue continues to work magic on your cunt, as his nose presses against your clit, stimulating you to the point of making you see stars.

Your hands tug at his hair, and the moan that it elicits from him is enough to send vibrations through your cunt through your stomach. Your head leans back as you moan, and for a moment, you hope there is no mutant in this mansion with super hearing.

His free hand grips your thigh as he bends your leg back to get better access, as he continues to eat you out. The mere taste of you is enough to drive him crazy—He almost wants to start thrusting into the side of your bed, he’s so hard, but he ignores that urge to continue to eat you out.

“Mm—Lo, I—I’m gonna—”

He just hums into your cunt, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze of approval, before his tongue moves even faster (if that’s even possible, though, he is an amazingly surprising man), and suddenly—

You feel a release you have been waiting for weeks, and it is fucking phenomenal. And the Wolverine just licks up all your cum, even if it makes your thighs shake, but honestly, he doesn’t care and neither do you. For a moment, you just listen to the sound of your own pants.

After a minute, you are able to look at him, and he just looks up to you with the same smirk that has been torturing you for all of those weeks. And you just have to pull him up to kiss you, like it’s the only way you’ll be able to live.

As you kiss him, you pull off his wifebeater and then your hands rest on the sides of his face as he pulls off your shirt as well, before his hands begin to make quick work of his belt, wanting to skip all of the pleasantries and just fuck you.

But when he finally gets his jeans off, you pull away, and he stares at you like you’re crazy.

“What the fuck could possibly be more important than me fucking you stupid?”

“Will you just.. let me look at you?” You scoff, your eyes flickering over him to just memorize every square inch of his body. He humors you for a few minutes, standing there with his hands on hips before he leans in and cages you in with his arms.

“Show’s over, spitfire.” He purrs, leaning in to kiss you, slowly making his way closer to you so that you’re laying back on your bed. At some point during the kiss, his boxers come off, and when you feel his cock against your cunt, you moan into the kiss, and you can feel his smirk against your lips.

Oh, you could kill him. But, you suspect maybe he’ll get to you first.

After he kisses you for a few minutes, he pulls away to tell—not ask, tell you, “I’m going to fuck you now.” And you know your line.

“’Kay.” He grins at this and kisses you again, before lining himself up and starting slowly. He just has the tip inside of you, and you begin to moan, your grip on his shoulders tightening. You already feel entirely too full, and he slowly agonizingly slowly pushes into you, and he sees how his size makes your face twitch,

“Shh, shh, I know, pup. Deep breathes for me, bub,” he says softly, such a stark contract to his rough movements, as he bottoms out and has his entire cock inside of you. And he gives you a second, watching as your face relaces, adjusting to the size of him. “Okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“’Kay,” You assure, and he kisses your forehead.

“’Kay.” He responds, and before you can tease him for it, he begins to thrust into you, slowly as first, but he continues to quicken his pace. Your nails begin to scratch on his back, and he lets out this angelic moan—You must’ve died and went to heaven.

As his thrusts quicken, the lines quickly blur between quick ruts and an animalistic need, manifesting itself in the way he fucks you. You know you won’t last long, especially when his fingers find your clit and begin to rub it again.

“Fuck! Oh my god—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, his free hand coming to your thigh to lift your leg up, only for better access to your throbbing cunt, “God, I love the feeling of you around me.. Worth the wait, I promise.” He grumbles, as he thrusts into you, his only goal to make you cum.

You want to respond to that—To tease him, to make him feel as shy as you do, but he has completed his goal of fucking you stupid.

All you can do is respond, “Fuck—I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby, go ahead, cum for me,” he requests softly, leaning in to press a rather jarringly sweet kiss to your lips.

As you cum around his cock, he shudders, the look of you, laying there fucked dumb, is almost too much for him to bear.

“I’m gonna fill you up, pup,” he tells you, and all you can do is moan in response, which makes him come that much closer to the edge. After a few more thrusts, with a euphoric moan that will haunt you forever, his hot cum fills you up, leaving the pair of you clawing at each other, wanting more.

When you’re both finally finished riding out your high, Logan lays next to you, keeping you close. His grip on you is tight—possessive. When you finally find your voice, you ask,

“You’re not gonna turn me into a booty call, are you, claws?”

And he laughs.

“No,” he says, pressing a kiss to your head. “You’re gonna be my best girl, Spitfire.”

“Does this mean I get to steal another of your flannels?”

“I’ll give you my whole fucking wardrobe to see how many times I can make you cum.”

#logan howlett x you #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett #logan howlett blurb #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine blurb #wolverine smut #xmen smut #deadpool and wolverine #danny speaks to the void

1K notes · View notes

lifeonmarz-blog · 6 months ago

Text

Pluto through the houses: Synastry

1st: Both people have a way of prying under the skin of the other bringing all the insecurities they thought were hidden to the light. It can be almost jarring and abrasive. Even though its not intentional they pick up on it so naturally they probably didnt even know they hit a wound. This relationship may come about at a time when your self image and public persona is going through a change. Lying about that image can also be an issue here. Lying to protect how the other views your life. A lot of glamorization and intentional avoidant of details. These two can be mesmerized by the persona of each other. Pluto person is almost thirsty for the attention of house person. House person likes the attention but is much more nonchalant about it maybe even a little scared of plutos intensity. Their upbringing emotionally is similar but may not seem similar in the physical aspect of it. People could look at this couple as an odd pairing. It can seem taboo for one or both of them. You can tell that they were attracted to the darker aspect of each other. Its pluto so you know the power dynamics are being tested, pluto person is controlling over the house person. Sometimes that could be to extreme extents. They want their full undivided attention always. If pluto person releases their grasp this can be a very powerful magnetic couple. Manifesting with ease through how others view them together.

2nd: Pluto person ''levels'' house person up, this could be financially or with plutos image but essentially both people add to each others persona. The flow is more natural if the woman or more feminine person is the house person. Wishful thinking could be a problem here because this is actually a very romantic placement. The way love is expressed if very comforting and ideal for both people. Theres a mutual taste in the type things you enjoy so it becomes easy to believe you might not get this somewhere else. The dates are very fun and the couple loves to show each other off. This is one of the easiest houses to create abundance in as a couple. Balancing work and love is an obstacle, if both parties aren't equally as committed to setting aside time together. It can easily become a situation were someone feels neglected. It takes a certain amount of emotional detachment to have a long lasting relationship with this placement. Id say this is a more subtle place for pluto to be it isnt as harsh as some of the others.

3rd: Challenging each others views is almost second nature. Both help each other think outside the box. Their perspectives usually differ quite a bit so it makes for interesting conversation. Pluto person redefines how house person approaches business and relationship matters, offering constructive criticism that the house person usually appreciates. This placement can be nice for an entrepreneur and their partner. Pluto person sees house persons gifts and wants to help refine it. House person teaches pluto person new ways of achieving goals. Too much focus could be on career matters and the relationship could be on and off one or both parties could make excuses for why the communication isn't consistent. One person can try harder to keep the relationship together the other avoiding emotional intimacy. When things are smooth they view each other as the ideal partner then the communication waivers again. Pluto person encourages house person to come out of their shell. If you have any fears about expressing yourself without guilt or shame. In its positive this relationship will help you feel comfortable being yourself without judgement.

4th: Pluto person reminds house person of family member usually a parent. For better or worse. These two came together to unlock something in each others DNA, realizing something about their worth or finding a new sense of gratitude. They mesh well into each other, operating like they've been together for years even if they just met. This connection could've been established through insecurities or for financial benefit. There could be insecurities around how much more money one person makes over the other or secretly competing with each other. This relationship could demand a lot of time and attention being distracting to the career of one or both parties. Or on the flip slide someone can feel unseen and lonely falling to the backside because of the career of the other. Emotionally there's a feeling of being unfulfilled like something is missing. House person views the pluto person as their ideal, perfect match even, The childhood of these two was similar. They share similar wounds around the upbringing. Others may look at this couple and think why are they together? They don't care how people view them they have an understanding between each other. They view each other as someone they would want to have a family with. They are very giving towards each other the energy balances well they know the unspoken things that would make you smile. They fit well into each others families. This person can feel like your calm space, enjoying spending time together at home.

5th: They both love children and can want to have a family together. If they have pets they treat each others pets like their own. They see the beauty in each other and want show their partner off to the world. They introduce each other to a lot of new people blending into each others friends group really well. Power struggles can create tension because they could feel like the other person plots on how to have power over the relationship.Pluto person has a lot of control over the emotions of house person. House person may try to play it cool but pluto has a hold of them. Pluto person wants to lead the relationship but house person may not be okay with that. Public arguments could be familiar to them. It doesn't even have to be an argument but people can tell when they aren't on the same page. They can try to make each other jealous when there out together. Its exciting to see each other worked up. House person could want more public affection so the jealously feels reassuring. This connection could've started at some sort of get together or the first few times they were around each other there were other people present. They could embarrass each other in public flirting with someone in public in the lower natures. This connection feels very familiar to both people. They could feel like siblings not in weird way lol but just the way they were raised and how they think, its very similar to each other. They have alot of fun together. It takes both people back to childhood. This could've started as just friends then turned into something more.

6th: Friends to lovers type of vibe. This match could've been unsuspecting. Knowing each other for a while but just now deciding to give love a go. Theres a lightheartedness about this connection. Both people are just seeing where it goes without pressure or expectations. No expectations may not be the best thing though, it may keep these two in a cycle of unknowing. They can feel like they manifested each other but question if their ready for what they asked for. Self worth issues play a big role here. Theres changes that need to be made internally to make this connection work but one or both people are reluctant to change. Holding onto the past wounds from relationships. Making the assumption that everyone is the same. The energy in this connection can be unbalanced. Someone feels they aren't good enough for the other or thats implied by the other person. Routine are a topic of conversation, they could feel insecure about how they spend free time and feel the need to lie about what they actually do or feel uncomfortable about always doing the same things. On the flip side they can give each other better physical and mental habits, showing more efficient ways to get things done. Living a more healthy lifestyle and thinking more positive. They love spending the morning together getting ready together. The type to make sure you've ate and check in just to see how your doing. They show love by being reliable. This is the type of couple that would discuss what their gonna wear so their outfits are similar. They could have a busy schedule and have to plan time together. Meeting up could always feel so exciting because of the timing factor. Teaching each other how to be honest about your needs and expectations could be hard but pluto is in the 6th house for a reason.

7th: Pluto person wants to show house person off to everyone. They feel like they really got a catch and wants everyone to see how special house person is their very proud to be with them. They want to invest in each other, bossing up each others aesthetic and or finances. In the lower octave the masculine energy fears the feminine is attracted to them mostly because of the money or gifts. The masculine can have insecurities around their worth so they lead with money but then still feel unloved because they led with materials. Both people couldve came into the relationship with insecurities about the physical body they make each other feel confident and dissolve the previous thoughts. They want the same things in life, sharing the same values. Be aware of the promises you make not getting carried away in excitement and not being able to uphold it. Or vise versa the actions are more important than the words. They could've meet on social media or in a work setting. Theirs interest around what each other do for work. Something about the career is attractive to the other. They bounce ideas off each other and help further their career advancement. Maybe even working together. They don't mind putting pressure on each other to maintain a level of structure and refinement. They watch your social media pages fantasizing about the two of you together. Also something about the way this person dresses you either love or you just want to dress them yourself.

8th: At first they could've found it hard to completely give into this connection and avoid true intimacy. Serious commitment is important for them they aren't into flings, they do things with a purpose. They view the relationship from a practical standpoint and analyze how this will contribute to their lives and how much they are willing to give to make it work. When the bond is proven to be strong they want to share their resources. They can give too much though then build resentments about not feeling the energy is being reciprocated. A lot goes unsaid, trust issues and resentments are lurking in the shadows. On the stingier side pluto person doesn't want to share their success with house person or they want house person to jump through hoops for it. They love sharing information with each other. This couple can be a mystery to others. They dont share much about their relationship preferring to keep things private. They notice the friends their partner has that dont have their best interest at heart. Self esteem and codependency issues could show face. The arguments they have are intense. Triggering unspoken insecurities in each other. This relationship builds the confidence of each person. Your a safe space for each other without judgement. On the flip side its important to focus on your own identity and not get to caught up in what your partner thinks. Change because thats what you want to do. Learning to relax and go with flow will do this couple well. Except that everything cant be planned and controlled. This placement creates a solid foundation for a long lasting relationship.

9th: These two share a lot of experiences together. They've been a lot of places together, been seen in a lot of rooms together, everyone knows that these two are together. People cant take their eyes of these two wanting to be in their business. This placement really makes me think of youtube couples.Transforming each other preparing for the spotlight. They really boost each others popularity. They love to be seen out together but that makes sense because they get alot of attention. They share a lot of similar interest and love to combine ideas. An example would be two musicians making songs together. Wounds of hyper independence makes being available and being of service something that really brings them closer together. Traveling together is really looked forward to. Traveling also doesn't have to be physical, a lot of mental shifts happen in this partnership. You really get to witness the growth in each other. In the lower natures the ego wars are strong here. Both people don't wanna feel like their submitting to the will of the other. They make each other chase, a lot. Outside influences cause a lot of friction in this relationship. Other people could know when their at odds with each other. Both like to go back and talk to friends or the internet about whats going on. The arguments are PETTYYYYY. They affect each others self esteem alot.

10th: Proud of each others public image, the work ethic and goals align. These two make a good team they share alot of similar ideas so they naturally go towards the same direction. Creating a business together could be a good idea. They look very aesthetically pleasing together and both know this, using it to their advantage whenever they can. This connection could be stop and go or have taken a while to really get off the ground. It seems there was always something else taking attention away from growing the spark. The more dominant energy could subtly restrict how much the other person expresses themselves. Power struggles and feelings of having to fight to have your opinion heard may present but thats the perfect time for them to assert their own beliefs. Which will always be respected in any healthy relationship. Putting on a brave face when things might not be so well is something that attention might need to be brought too. You cant have support if your not honest about your needs. The relationship could be different behind closed doors than what they present to the public. An example is seeming serious in public and maybe not that affectionate but much more goofy and relaxed at home. When traveling together may be a time frustrations really appear. One person could me more relaxed with how they do things and the other could prefer to have a schedule and routine in place. They could also want to do the same things but at different times. They feel a responsibility over each other, they stand up for each other.

11th: There is a lot of love to go around. Friendships, familial relationships and business relationships are equally as important as intimate relationships to this pair. This is a very busy couple that has hands in many points they both have hobbies or responsibilities that take up a lot their time. Double dates would be really fun for them. Doing physical activity together really grows this bond as well. Beware of how much money your spending when together. Yall like to have fun first and consider cost second. Trying new things together is something that really brings this couple closer. They love surprises and spontaneous dates. Both people are very good at vetting out potential partners their very particular about who they show interest in. The fact that you two came together you take the union serious and both require the stability of a solid foundation. This started as a friendship then grown to become more serious. You didnt expect to meet this person when you did. Meeting through other people, spontaneously or online. The friend groups of these two are different they can also come from different cultures or have different upbringings. In the lower natures someone could want to much freedom, they dont want to put ''tittles'' on the relationship. Favoring partying and keeping the vibe light and friendly. Pluto person could try to use house person as a status upgrade. Like the gateway to other groups of people. Im sure they would just call that networking though lol. This relationship can lack a long term vision. One or both people can feel like they aren't worthy of a ''normal'' functioning relationship. Preferring to keep things spontaneous when their actually just running from fear of the unknown.

12th: This couple manifest success together easily, people are intrigued by them. They give power couple vibes. Something is very alluring that brings alot of attention the magnetism has plutoian qualities. Others could think they'd like to have a relationship like this one. Thats from the outside though. Both people know how to keep private matters private. I think of public figures that want to uphold a certain image. These two idolize or romanticize each other, ignoring the obvious red flags. They can become very codependent on each other for emotional fulfillment. If their not on good terms it messes the whole day up. Breaking up to make up. Loving the passion that comes with it. Balancing work and the relationship may be something that has to be worked out. The arguments are very intense and passionate. There personalities start to merge into one, they start really sound, look and act alike. They give so selflessly to one another. They have dedication and patience to get through the challenging times. Their spirituality is developed through their love for one another. Experiencing things they haven't in any other relationship. Truly changed for the better. They understand each other like no one else ever has. They've both experienced something that was very specific and that bonded them. Its the 12th house so you know i have to mention addictions. Yes, this could be actual addiction to a substance but it can be an addiction over the career, belief system or relationship. An area in this persons life gets way more attention than the others. The belief system of these two can be different or started different.

Songs: i put a spell on you- Alice smith, haunted- Beyonce, sycamore tree- Kali uchis, boomerang- Yebba, something about us- Daft punk

#astrology #12th house #astrology101 #8th house #astrologyfacts #astrologychart #astrologyzone #astro notes #pluto astrology #pluto aspects #synastry #astrology notes #pluto

2K notes · View notes

naburi · 21 days ago

Text

HAVE YOU DONE IT BEFORE?

HUH YUNJIN X READER

FT. LE SSERAFIM, NEW JEANS MINJI AND AESPA GISELLE

TAGS: VIRGIN, SIZE KINK, MOUTH CUM, CREAMPIE

3K WORDS

College is a different world. Girls celebrate when they take someone’s virginity. Body counts became a social status. The campus finds out that one of the freshmen in the basketball team is still a virgin. Yunjin, a popular sophomore, takes this as a challenge. On Halloween night, she sought to have your first time.

“How can I get the basketball team’s attention?” Yunjin is laying on a bed with her friends, brainstorming what costume they will wear at the Halloween party. “Let’s wear some Jerseys!” Kazuha sits up, surprised herself that she came up with that idea. “That’s not a costume,” chaewon interrupted. “It doesn’t matter, what jersey will we wear?” Yunjin is excited with the idea.

All heads are turned when Yunjin and her group sets foot in the Halloween party. For this year’s Halloween. It will be celebrated in one of the frat houses. It is a big house, and selected people can go to a few rooms to have “privacy.” They don’t need to look for the basketball team as they are the loudest and the most chaotic boys on the campus. They are seated in the lounge area of the house surrounded by girls who're also shooting their shots.

“The fuck?” Yunjin blurted when a girl who was dressed in a punk princess costume bumped into her. Minji, a freshman who looks too young to be in college, apologizes quickly. She’s looking around her friends who left her to be with some boys. “Watch where you’re going! Gosh,” Yunjin let it go just because she doesn’t want her mood to get ruined.

The girls walk up in front of the players, wanting to get noticed. A senior saw the girls wearing Lakers jerseys. “Lakers! Lakers!” The team erupted in a chant. “Do you know the lakers?” Another senior asks the girls. “Tell us about them for tonight” Yunjin rebutted with a smile. Kazuha’s plan of wearing a basketball jersey just worked. Now all she needs to do is to have private time with the freshman.

She’s looking around to find the Freshman as he only saw him in pictures. The freshman is in the corner in between some sophomore’s players. Yunjin’s eyes widened when she noticed that the freshman was bigger than some players. The freshman has been recruited in the basketball team based on physical aspect alone. You are the back up center of the team as they ought to develop your skill set with his 4 year tenure in college.

You are taller and bigger than anyone your age, that’s why you grew up being an outcast as everyone feels intimidated by your sheer size. This hinders your social skills, thus being shy around people. Yunjin pauses for a second, thinking if she still will pursue you. She is not a stranger to taking big cocks but your body tells you that you might have the biggest cock she will ever see.

Chaewon notices the brunette girl’s hesitation. “Can you imagine how popular you might get by taking the virginity of the biggest guy on the campus?” The short-haired girl said. She might not be able to walk properly for a few days but the fame she will have is enough for her to continue on her pursuit. “Hey, big boy~” Yunjin said to you as she sat on your lap. “Damn you got this boy!”, “don’t let us down big boy!” The basketball team cheered in excitement as one of their freshmen just got a chick for tonight.

“H-hi,” you said awkwardly as Yunjin was sitting on your right thigh. The brunette smiles as she thought it would be easy to get you tonight. “I heard a lot of things about you,” She said while holding the guy’s arms, gently feeling his muscles. You took a big gulp as this is the first time girls advance on you like this. “I heard you were strong…” she continued as her fingers ran all over the guy's arms. “I heard rumors on how strong you are!” Your teammate said. Yunjin’s friends are now in between the players.

But one girl has caught Yunjin's attention, she has long pink hair and is wearing a Spider-Man costume. One of the senior players has his arms around the girl as they are obviously flirting with each other. The girl looks familiar but she doesn’t know her name. She has seen her a few times in the hallway before, concluding that the girl is also a sophomore like her.

“Lift her up!” Your teammate shouts. “Lift her up, lift her up!” The rest of the team chant in unison. You look at Yunjin waiting for a response. She just smiles at you before whispering: “lift me up like a trophy.” The way she said it turns you on. For a brief moment, you forgot how socially awkward you are. You put your hands on her armpit as you lift Yunjin before standing up. Yunjin is surprised at how easy it is for you to lift her. She felt something… knowing that you can just toss her around like a rag doll. Pools of fantasies flash on her mind.

The team erupts with the display of your strength. The pink haired girl has been also lifted up in the air by the player she’s flirting with. Yunjin felt annoyed as she doesn’t like sharing the spotlight with another girl. Giselle doesn’t care about what’s happening around her. All she cares about is that getting lifted in the air might be the last straw. She wraps her legs around the basketball player and hugs him into a kiss.

The basketball team and the crowd pause for a moment before the crowds erupt in a roar. They are all shook by the sudden show of affection between the two. The crowd continues to cheer as Giselle has been put on top of the guy's shoulder, carrying him like a sack of potatoes. She carries Giselle upstairs to get a room of themselves.

“You should also get a room!”, “carry her as well!” Your teammate said excited for you to bag the brunette. Yunjin see’s this perfect opportunity and took it. “Yes! Let’s get to know more about each other upstairs!” She said giggling but her eyes were hinting at something else. This makes you nervous but you don't want to disappoint Yunjin. You pick her up by the waist and legs, carrying him upstairs like a princess.

“Have you done it before?” Yunjin asked as if she didn't know the answer. “D-done what before?” You know what she’s insinuating but you don’t know how to answer her. You can lie and tell that you have an experience but she may sense your inexperience or you can just tell the truth but you thought this will turn her off. “Hmm, let’s ask a different question, have you kissed a girl before?”

“Y-Yes,” you said feeling guilty. You have been kissed on the lips by your highschool classmate before. “No no, I feel jealous,” Yunjin pouts, her face looking sad. Yunjin doesn’t really care about it, she is just acting jealous to get a reaction from you. Not knowing what to do, you try to explain yourself to her. “Can you kiss me as well?” Yunjin said hoping she can start the action by making out with you.

Agreeing with her, Yunjin sits on top of you again. She puts her two arms around your neck. You can’t look her in the eye as you don’t know exactly how to kiss a girl. “It’s okay, just close your eyes, let me kiss you,” she assures you. You close your eyes waiting for her lips, she closes the distance between your lips before giving you a peck in the lips. You thought that’s it and tried to open your eyes but you felt another kiss from her. The kiss lasted longer in your lips, and you felt her tongue trying to go inside your mouth.

Her kiss becomes more passionate and now her tongue is being persistent in entering your mouth. You feel your cock twitch as it gets harder. Yunjin notices this too as she felt your buldge. She smiles as she knows that what she’s doing is working. She continues to kiss you with now holding your face, she tries to make it as passionate as she can. She’s initiating a make out session with you.

Opening your mouth, trying to kiss her back. Her tongue finally enters your mouth as it’s inviting your tongue for a torrid kissing. This is your first time having a make out session, you try to follow her rhythm as you move your tongue but Yunjin just kisses you deeper, having her tongue exploring your mouth. Your kissing has now become a sloppy one. Mouths are wetting as you’re sharing saliva, Yunjin finally pulls back to take a breath.

Yunjin heard a loud bang that came from the opposite room but she didn’t mind it. Giselle got pinned against the wall in the other room. “Let me see your cock,” the brunette said. You froze for a moment, you don’t want to but you don’t want to turn her down as well. Yunjin continues as she didn’t receive any disapproval from you. She kneels to pull your pants down to your feet. She got shine on how big it really is.

She is expecting you to have a big cock based on your height and body but your cock is more massive than expected. It has a grit as big as your forearm. Yunjin gulps in nervousness, she is in too deep now to go back. She spits on your cock multiple times before smearing it all over your cock. She’s trying to lubricate your cock to make it easy sucking it.

You moan just by her touch, your cock is being touched by a girl for the first time. Yunjin finds it cute that you’re already moaning, she strokes your cock faster to elicit more moans from you, she doesn't get disappointed. The brunette is now looking at the thick tip of your cock, thinking if she can take it. “Imagine how popular you will get,” are the words that ring on her mind before putting your cock in her mouth.

With just your tip, Yunjin's mouth is already stretched. You’re looking at her intensely, this is the first time you've had a blowjob, you don’t want to miss any details of it. The girl got motivated by your enthusiasm. She tries to lower her face, to have more of your cock. She’s halfway through your shaft but she finally gag. Your huge cock is too much for her mouth. Her cheeks are filled up by the girth of your cock. Your dick could compete with the biggest dicks on porn sites even Yunjin knows that.

She looks back at you with helplessness written on her face. She can’t take more of it. She pulls her head up to take a needed break. Tears are forming on her eyes as she coughs. The brunette looks defeated. She worries that if the campus finds out she can’t take your cock, she might lose her popular status. She gathers herself, ties her hair up and puts your cock on her mouth again.

Yunjin tries different approaches to swallow your whole cock. First, she tried to go as slow as possible, she wanted to make herself get used to the size of your cock. This doesn’t add inches on how much of your cock she can take. Second, she tried to go fast, her head bobbing faster on your cock. With this method, she forced herself to take more than just of your massive cock. This also feels good to you, her tight mouth is sucking you over and over again.

“Mhmm! WTF?!” Yunjin was surprised by your sudden release. You don’t know how to hold it yet and she’s sucking you too good. This made the girl pull away. Her mouth is full of your load, some of it drools down on her face. She thought that she should have anticipated that you will cum fast because you’re still inexperienced. Yunjin doesn’t want to spit it out, she opens her mouth to show you the amount of cum you released on her, she puts her tongue out to show more of it before finally swallowing it.

“Ha Ha, did I suck you that good? Tell everyone I give the best head!” Yunjin hysterically laughs, she might not be able to deepthroat your whole cock, she takes your orgasm as a victory. She strokes your cock again, surprised as you didn’t lose any hardness after you just released. Yunjin hands look way too small when holding your massive cock. Even when she holds it with two hands, it will only cover a half of your cock.

The brunette stands up to remove her jeans, she makes sure to turn her back against yours to give you a good view of her ass. She pulls down her underwear, bending down as she lowers it. Yunjin has a well shaped ass. You were surprised that she has a nice ass in her petite build. The girl sits on your lap again. She sits directly on top of your cock, you can feel her wet slit grinding against your cock as Yunjin tries to tease you before taking your virginity.

The girl squats up while reaching your cock, it aligns it to her slit. You already moan as your tip enters her pussy. This made her laugh for a bit, Yunjin tries to hide the fact that she’s nervous. The girl lowers herself slowly, you can feel her tight slit hugging your cock. Just by taking the tip and some of your shaft, Yunjin struggles to sit deeper as she is already stretched out. The girl doesn’t like being in a vulnerable position, she doesn’t want you to think that she’s weak because she can’t take your cock.

she lets out a war cry before carelessly sitting deep on your cock. This made the two of you moan loudly. Yunjin is stretched out more than even, she moans in pain as your massive cock is stretching her walls to the fullest. You moan loud as this is the first time you felt your cock being inside of a pussy. Her walls are tight and warm, it’s hugging your cock like it wants you to cum already. Even with her desperate attempt, Yunjin hasn't fully sat on your cock as a whole. She just just sits on it more than how deep she deepthroat you.

The brunette is contented by this, she can just make an excuse that no girl can take your cock as a whole and this is the deepest anyone can get. Yunjin is holding on your chest as she tries to pull herself up. This made the two of you moan again loudly. Yunjin feels her walls are collapsing as your massive cock is going out of her. This sensation feels too good for you. Yunjin doesn’t care anymore. She repeatedly sits on your cock. Not caring about how painful it is.

Yunjin looks determined, she looks you directly in the eyes with glimpses of hatred. She hates how massive your cock. Yunjin keeps moaning as she continues to sit on your cock. She removed the Lakers jersey as she felt her body heating up. Yunjin's boobs are in front of you. She has small but well shaped boobs that perfectly compliments her frame. She reached for your two hands to put in her boobs.

She feels your cock twitch as you hold her boobs, Yunjin smirks for a bit, even though she's struggling with your cock. She still has full control of the situation. You grab her boobs, squeezing them gently. Yunjin unlocks her bra and removes it to give you a better view of how perfect her body is. She is a confident woman, she knows that one of her strengths is her sexy petite body. She holds your fingers trying to teach you to pinch and play with her perky boobs.

The brunette who’s on top of you knows moves faster. It doesn’t hurt her as much anymore as she gets used to your girth. She tried to go deeper but her human body really has a limit. Yunjin knows find her rhythm, you are are speechless on how good this feels, paired up the sight of a orange haired chick who’s fucking herself in your cock while her boobs is on your hands.

The girl felt your cock twitching inside her. “Cum inside me, tell everyone that I have the best pussy!” Yunjin says loudly. She picks up her pace and guides your hand to her waist to help her get stabilized. Yunjin moans as this feels good now for her too. Your cock twitches more signaling you’re about to cum. Yunjin sits on your cock as deep as possible. She let out a loud moan as your massive cock stretches her slit more. Loads of your hot cum fill her slits. Yunjin feels your cock released more inside her as you cum as much as the first one.

Yunjin tiredly lay down beside you, her slit looks like a mess, her slit is still stretched wide open as loads of cum keep flowing out of her. She made it, she finally took the most massive cock in the campus. She took the biggest freshman’s virginity. Yunjin smiles while her eyes are still closed due to how tired she is. She is already basking on this achievement. Yunjin plans to lay down for a while before going back to the party downstairs. She felt that you already stand up

“Wait for me,” Yunjin said while still catching her breath. She wants everyone to know that you did it with her. She looks confused as you are now standing on the edge of the bed. The brunette’s eyes widen when you pull her close to you. Holding her legs up with your both arms. Yunjin looks horrified when you align your cock on her slit.

#le sserafim smut #k pop smut #reader smut #yunjin smut #huh yunjin smut #yunjin x reader #huh yunjin x reader #minji smut #new jeans smut #giselle smut #aespa smut

794 notes · View notes

lunaritex · 1 month ago

Text

𓏲࣪ ִֶָ ︎ִֶָ LIGHTS, CAMERA AND LOVE 𖤐. — nishimura riki

↺ CONTENT: idol au, both reader and riki are idols, reader is female, brief tooth-rotting fluff.

↺ FROM HYE: this was inspired after watching his artist of the month video heh…

“Hello everyone. I’m (Name) and today, I’m on the set of Studio Choom to film the video for the Artist of the Month,” you introduced yourself, clapping and bowing a little as you sat on the chair provided by the staff.

“(Name), how does it feel to be chosen as the Artist of the Month?”

Laughing, you shyly tucked your hair behind your left ear. “Ah, to be honest, I’m not that confident in my dancing abilities. So I was quite shocked when I heard I got selected. But thank you so much for the opportunity provided to me. I will show my best self for everyone and my fans.”

“Can you tell us what you have prepared for us?”

Humming, you slung your left leg over your right as you rested your hands on your left knee. “I’ve chosen to perform two songs: Rude Boy by Rihanna and Work it by Missy Elliot. I have gone with hip hop and pop, as I always wanted to try dancing to these kinds of songs. And I like challenging myself to new things too.”

“How would you rate the choreography?”

You purse your lips, pondering over it before answering. “If you know Pass the Mic by ENHYPEN, take their choreography and multiply it by… three times? It’s quite hard and it took me a while to master it.”

“Speaking of ENHYPEN, how long have you been dating Nishimura Riki?”

You gasped, taken aback by the sudden question about your love life. Your face flushed red when you heard the staff laugh at your embarrassment. “We’ve been together for about six months now, and our monthly anniversary is coming tomorrow. Which is also the day the video will drop too. I hope everyone looks forward to it-?”

You paused when you saw a familiar figure entering the place. You ignored how you were in the middle of an interview, face brightening at the sight of your beloved boyfriend entering. You excitedly waved as Riki got closer. He chuckled, leaning down to press a loving kiss on your forehead as he stood beside you. Due to him being too tall, the camera was not able to capture his face.

“What are you doing here? I thought you’re still busy with your schedule,” you asked, having to tilt your head up to look at him.

“We ended early and I decided to surprise you. Although, it looks like you’re in the middle of something,” he sounds sheepish, but the staff merely shrugged his apology off.

You giggled, leaning against him and faced the camera. “Now that my boyfriend’s here, maybe we should hear some encouraging words from him. Right, Riki?”

“Huh? Why are you suddenly interviewing me?” His eyes widened, not expecting you to change the direction of the interview just like that. You laughed at his reaction, pulling at his hand.

“Come on, just say a few words!” You begged.

Sighing, he bent slightly to reveal his face to the camera. “Hello, I’m Nishimura Riki from ENHYPEN. Uh, I don’t have much to say but please show lots of love and support to (Name)’s performance video. It drops tomorrow and I can tell she has put in a lot of effort into making the video. Thanks.”

“Before we end, could we have the both of you do a dance together?”

“Aish, I knew there was something else after this,” Riki mischievously wagged his finger at the staff, eliciting a round of amused laughter from them.

You chuckled, rising to your feet. “Sure, how about we cover Riki’s dance on Studio Choom? The Artist of the Month video and we can do the moment of the video where it's most replayed.”

“Don’t tell me…” Riki’s voice trailed off, recognition flickering across his face when he saw one of the staff handing both of you sunglasses.

“Yup.”

Both of you got into position. Once the music started, the staff were amazed with how in sync you were with one another. Your facial expressions were on point, easily matching the vibes of the song. Thankfully, you did not have to perform the whole choreography and instead, only showcase five minutes of it. When it ended, you were panting and catching your breath.

“Since when did you learn it?” Riki asked, amazed as he ran a hand through his hair.

“It was meant to be a surprise, but I guess it’s out of the bag now,” you sheepishly scratched your head, squeaking when he embraced you in a hug, his taller frame hiding you from the camera. The staff took it as a cue to end the recording, wanting to give the couple their much-needed alone time.

Seeing this, Riki took it as his cue to squish your cheeks with his hands. You made a noise of protest but he ignores it, sniggering at your offended expression. He could no longer hold back, leaning down to give you a searing kiss on your lips. Before you could react, he had pulled away. A satisfied smirk appeared on his face at the sight of your dazed look.

“You’re so cute,” he teased.

“Riki!”

Needless to say, the video did well and most of the comment sections were filled with people squealing over your relationship.

‘(Name) and Riki are so cute together! And the way they are in sync with one another is so cool! Truly the power duo we need.’

‘Forget Riki, I want (Name) instead.’

‘The part where they threw their sunglasses at the same time… chefs kiss.’

#ꨄ writings #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #nishimura niki #nishimura riki #nishimura riki x you #nishimura riki x reader #nishimura riki imagines #nishimura niki x reader #niki imagines #niki x you #niki x y/n #niki fluff #riki fluff

629 notes · View notes

literaryvein-reblogs · 4 months ago

Text

How to Write a Character

For creative writing to have as deep an impact as possible, you need to give the reader strong characters they can relate to on a personal level.

By borrowing from tried-and-true character archetypes and giving them your personal spin, you can create heroes, villains, and sidekicks that will affect your readers as if they were real people they knew.

Come up with a backstory

Crafting a backstory can help you flesh out an interesting character profile.

“When I’m dealing with characters,” says legal thriller author David Baldacci, “and I’m trying to explain somebody's situation and motivations, you have to look into their past, because [the] past always drives motivations.”

Ask what experiences your character had in elementary school or high school that shaped who they are today. Your character’s backstory can greatly inform your plot.

Develop a character arc

A character must evolve throughout a story.

“The character has to change,” insists crime fiction writer Walter Mosley. “The character doesn’t have to become better. The character doesn’t have to become good. It could be the opposite. He could start good and become bad. He could start off hopeful and end up a pessimist. But he has to be impacted by this world that we’re reading about.”

Plan out your storyline based on your character's goals and how achieving or not achieving them will change them as people. This sort of template can help anchor your narrative.

Do research

If you plan to set your story in a specific locale or period, do enough research to make your characters seem true to life and believable.

“What does it mean, for instance, in the Tudor era to be a male person?” asks Margaret Atwood, author of The Handmaid’s Tale. “What does it mean to be a female person? What do those things mean when they’re at different social levels?”

Empathize with your characters

No matter what the type of character you’re developing, try to find some reason you and your reader can relate to their internal conflict.

“You’re living with these people every single day for months at a time—in some cases, years at a time,” says acclaimed children’s author Judy Blume. “You had better feel for them. So, for me, yes, I have great empathy for them.”

When people can empathize with characters, they’re more likely to find them compelling.

Experiment with different approaches

If you usually write characters from a particular point of view (or POV), change things up to challenge yourself.

“Write about someone entirely through the eyes of their friends and family,” suggests journalist Malcolm Gladwell. “So do a profile of someone where you deliberately never talk to the person that you’re profiling.”

There are plenty of ways to craft compelling character descriptions—free yourself up to try new alternatives.

Give your characters flaws

To craft believable characters, you need to give them flaws.

“One, it makes the characters human, just by default, because everybody recognizes that we all have flaws and mistakes,” David says. “But two, it gives you plot elements and plot opportunities because somebody makes a mistake. Why? Because they’re flawed.”

Learn from real people

Pay attention to real people’s mannerisms, personality traits, body language, and physical appearances.

Do research, and be respectful, when you want to write characters with backgrounds that you are not familiar with. Become familiar with different people's cultures, sexual orientations etc.

Talking to people about their experiences will help form your character’s personality.

Let your characters surprise you

Character development can proceed down a host of different avenues.

“Spend a lot of time with your characters and getting to know them,” Judy suggests. “And the way that you get to know them can be different from the way I get to know them. But my way is: They don’t come alive until I write about them, until I put them down on paper.”

As you write, your character’s motivation or perspective might change from what you originally planned.

Play characters off each other

Ask yourself how a secondary character’s personality might thwart the main character’s motivation.

“One of the best ways, as I said, to develop a character is to put that character in relationship to another person,” Walter says. “So as they talk, as they fight, as they work together, we find out more about who they are and what they are.”

The character’s close friends, adversaries, and acquaintances might all have different effects on their behavior.

Take an organic approach

Over the course of the story, be ready for your characters to surprise you as much as the people you know in real life might, too.

Your characters may take on a life of their own.

Avoid static characters by letting yours have their own lives and personalities. Let their stories take you where they lead.

Writing Notes & References

#writeblr #character development #writing notes #fiction #booklr #dark academia #light academia #creative writing #studyblr #lit #original character #on writing #writing prompt #writing advice #writing tips #writing reference #writing resources

878 notes · View notes

lovebugism · 1 year ago

Note

“don’t you dare touch him” eddie x shy!reader

idk i need a situation where reader never really speaks up but she finally does when it comes to eddie because she loves him sm😭

thanks so much for your request! hope you like it!! — the one where eddie melts when his quiet gf sticks up for him in front of jason (shy!reader, fluff, 2.4k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

The drive from Forest Hills to the arcade is spent with Lucas and Dustin bickering in the backseat and Eddie’s hand on your thigh.

“It’s been two years, and you still can’t beat my high score, Dusty Bun,” the former boy taunts. The nickname spills like venom from his smiling face. “Just give it up, okay? It’s not happening.”

Dustin grins back at him. It’s more so mischievous than it is taunting. His deep blue eyes narrow in a challenging squint. “You are so gonna be eating your words by the end of the night. When we leave, Princess Daphne is gonna be mine, alright? For good.”

Their arguing becomes background noise. With your cheek lolled against the hand you’ve got propped against the window, you’re pulled into the wispy lilac cloud your gaze is so heavily fixated upon. The sky billows lavender against a sea of pink and golden orange — a summer sunset so vivid you can taste it.

The only thing keeping you grounded is Eddie’s palm on your knee, wide and warm and all-consuming. His thumb rubs against your skin so softly you think it must be absentminded. It feels like static shock, anyway. He laughs quietly to himself, and his fingers tremble gently against you. This time they squeeze you with a newfound intention as he brings you back to him.

“What do you think, babe?” Eddie asks, pink mouth spread in a pearly white grin. His chocolate eyes glimmer with the golden hour sun as his gaze flits between yours and the road. “Think Dusty Bun has a chance here?”

You nod, scrunched nose and squinted eyes, silent in your support for the curly-headed boy who’s still yelling over Lucas in the back of the van.

“What about me?” he presses. And because he knows better than to give his quiet girl anything other than a yes or no answer, he follows quickly, “You think today’s the day I finally beat your Space Invaders high score?”

A beat passes. The momentary silence is filled with arguing boys, old tires on older asphalt, and Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train” spilling softly from the radio. A quiet smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. You purse the mischievous expression to the side as you turn away from him again.

Your non-answer makes him laugh. It sounds exactly like the colors of the sunset.

His beat-up van jerks when he puts it into park. The door on the side squeaks as the kids file out of it. Eddie’s does too, but you can’t hear it over him telling you to “sit tight.”

You wait patiently in the passenger seat like you always do, smiling to yourself as the boy rushes around the hood to open the door for you. The hinges screech in protest. His wild curls billow in the wind as he smiles. “C’mon, sunshine. Our palace awaits.”

The group of you stand beneath the spinning neon sign he parked next to — glowing orange and white beneath a setting sun. Someone calls from across the parking lot, “Well, well, well. Look who it is.”

Your heads snap in the direction of the painfully familiar voice.

Jason and the rest of his abnormally tall goons stand outside the new gym that just opened on the strip. The dark, vacant building wedged between The Palace and Family Video was no longer as scary as it used to be now that it was occupied. You were just hoping it’d be something more exciting. Forcing arcade nerds and gym bros into one spot feels like a crime.

“And they brought little miss wallflower, too,” Jason lilts with his pretty smile and straight teeth. His blonde hair is a darker shade of brown, damp with half-dried sweat. His lean form is unnaturally built underneath his white tank top and basketball shorts.

It isn’t any wonder why he turned out to be such a raging douchebag.

Someone so perfect needed at least one flaw.

“The gang’s all here, huh?” one of his other friends — Andy, you think — concurs from behind him, always in the boy’s shadow.

“Like what you see, fellas?” Eddie calls out from across the slab of pavement separating the group of you. He’ll never turn down an opportunity to take the piss out of the so-called jocks, all muscle and no brain.

“What do we do when those assholes give us hell?” he’d often ask when you’ve had a particularly shitty day with them. “We give ‘em hell right back.”

Jason’s thin lips curl into a more mischievous smirk. His blue eyes are lighter in the golden sunlight, and they twinkle beneath the neon signs as he looks you up and down. “Yeah, actually,” he hums with his unabashed ogling. “I do.”

Mike’s lanky legs sidestep to stand ahead of you. He does it so swiftly, so instinctually, you don’t think he even really meant to do it. Despite the raven-haired boy halfway covering you, you cross your arms over your torso in a further attempt to keep yourself hidden.

You feel so suddenly exposed in your frilly floral sundress — especially considering the only thing you wear to school is baggy jeans and baggier sweaters. You feel like you might as well be naked standing in front of them just now.

The younger boys stand on high alert as Eddie walks the short distance to Jason. The brief journey is made quicker when the blonde boy strides to meet him halfway. It’s a high school sort of standoff — neither particularly wanting to get physical because the real-life repercussions aren’t worth it. They just want to see who can piss each other off the most.

“She is pretty, isn’t she?” Eddie concedes with a grin, flashing you a brief glance over his shoulder. He turns away quickly at the sight of your wide, pleading eyes. He scrunches his nose in feigned sympathy. “I bet you’re real jealous, huh? Especially now that you’ve got nothing but your right hand keeping you company ever since Chrissy dumped your ass.”

“Watch it,” Jason warns through gritted teeth.

“I think I saw her riding around last week with Harrington, actually.”

The blonde boy’s sneakers scuff against the concrete as he takes a daring step closer. His piercing stare never wavers. “Don’t talk about Chrissy.”

“Don’t talk about my girl, and I won’t talk about yours,” Eddie retorts in lilt. And then, because he can’t help but twist the knife, he tilts his head to his shoulder and continues. “Well, I guess she’s not really yours anymore, is she?”

“I said don’t talk about Chrissy!” Jason repeats, louder than before, when he lets his anger get the best of him. One hand shoots up to shove at Eddie’s chest, using only enough force to make the boy stumble slightly back.

While Dustin, Lucas, and Mike gear up for a fight, Eddie only laughs in response — big, boisterous, and boyish.

You don’t even realize you’re stepping in front of the group until you’re already doing it. The words seem to fly from your mouth without you even thinking about them. “Don’t touch him!” you shout.

And even though it wasn’t particularly loud, it quiets in the mindless bickering all at once. Everyone turns to gape at you — Jason, Andy, Dustin, Eddie. Everyone is equally surprised by your outburst. Because you don’t speak. Ever. At least, not if you can help it.

And it’s not because you don’t have anything to say, because you do. It’s just that your brain works too much, and your mouth can’t keep up with it sometimes. It’s easier just to be silent.

That’s what you’ve been known for ever since you were little. You went through all of it — the bullying, the sad eyes, the talks with teachers, the ‘is everything alright at home’s. Everything was fine, for the most part. Your childhood was equally as middling as everyone else’s. You just had a harder time being human than most people.

Jason smiles again, amused by your warning. “What was that, sweetheart?”

You swallow through a tightening throat. Your sweaty hands clench into balls at your sides. The words come out quieter than before, but no less meaningful. “I said… Don’t touch him.”

“Oh, so she does speak. Here I thought no one ever taught you how to,” the blonde boy laughs. You feel disgusting when his attention settles solely upon you. The lingering sick feeling is eclipsed by your gratitude that Eddie’s no longer in his line of fire. “I’m gonna be honest… I thought you were cuter when you were quiet.”

You don’t know what he means by that. You can’t tell if he’s being genuine, or if he thinks you care enough about what he thinks to slink back into your shell.

“Leave Eddie alone,” you retort drily.

He snorts. “Yeah? Or what?”

There’s a thousand words you want to say. You open your mouth to spit all of them at the boy across from you, but nothing comes out.

“Yeah,” Jason laughs at your silence. “That’s what I thought.”

You stand your ground when he walks towards you. His strides are slow and menacing, like he’s expecting you to back away. You might’ve if you were anywhere else — if Eddie wasn’t a couple feet away and the rest of your friends weren’t crowding behind you. You’re made somehow braver by their presence.

“This is a really cute dress, though, sweetheart,” the blonde boy compliments with a thin smirk. “You should dress like this more often. You know what? You’d really fit in at the strip club downtown— what’s it called?”

“Pink Paradise,” Andy answers without missing a beat.

Jason smacks his lips against his teeth. “That’s the one.”

“Is that the one your mom works at?” you wonder with your arms crossed over your chest. Your head tilts to your shoulder as you squint at him. “Is she still giving those two-for-one discounts?”

Jason’s confidence stutters at your biting reply — even more so by the choked-back laughter accompanying it. Your boys don’t bother to hide their humored giggles, though the basketball team covers theirs by coughing into their fists.

“Ooh. I didn’t know you had such a much on you,” the blonde lilts as his blue eyes narrow. “I’m like… fifty percent more attracted to you now.”

“Leave Eddie alone,” you deadpan once more. “And go be a douchebag somewhere else.”

One of his friends breaks free from the pack. He’s tall, thin, and toned. He’s got the same haircut as Lucas: compact curls, squared off on the sides. You know him — Patrick McKinney. He’s the only one of Jason’s friends that was actually nice to you. Or, at the very least, he wasn’t a total asshole.

“Let’s go, man,” the boy ushers, nudging at Jason’s bicep. “Let’s go shoot some hoops or something. This isn’t worth it.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Oh, please— the only shooting Jason Carver does is into a kleenex. It’s why you were benched all last season.”

“I twisted my ankle!” the blonde boy defends, sounding weak and pathetic beneath the chorus of laughter as Patrick drags him away.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you mutter, perhaps too quiet for him to hear, as Lucas pulls at your forearm to guide you in the other direction. His touch is still gentle — it would be uncharacteristic of him to be rough with you. It would also be a terrible idea with Eddie just a few paces behind the both of you.

The walk to The Palace is a silent one. There’s too much to say, and everyone’s just a little too amazed to say it. Eddie, however, never had a hard time killing a quiet. He rushes on long legs to match your quick strides, reaching you rather easily.

“Hey, hey, hey— you okay, babe?” the worried boy wonders. He takes a gentle hold of your wrists when you reach the awning beneath the arcade. His chocolate gaze flits attentively over your form, nowhere near as leering as Jason had been.

He can tell by your heaving chest and glassy eyes that you’re a little overwhelmed. When he takes your face in his hands, he finds that your cheeks are burning, too.

You nod into his warm palms in silent reply, back in the comfort of your shell all over again.

“What’d you do that for, huh?” Eddie singsongs with a quiet laugh. His thumb dances over your cheekbones as he grins at you. “You know I don’t like you getting involved with those assholes.”

“They don’t get to talk to you like that… Or put their hands on you,” you mutter. Despite your soft tone, Eddie can see the fury flashing in your eyes, getting angry about it all over again.

His smile widens — proud and hopelessly in love with you. “No. They don’t. Especially not with my girl around, huh?”

“Nope,” you murmur, popping the p. A sheepish grin pulls at your mouth, equally as proud and in love.

Eddie leans down to kiss you, guiding your mouth to his with the hands cupping your jaw. It’s innocuously chaste, being that you’re still standing in a public parking lot. You could never quite stomach the attention of PDA, anyway. His pink lips lock with yours in a fleeting peck, and his arms wrap around you a second later.

He smothers you into his chest, and you revel in every second of it. He smells like cigarette smoke and the cologne he tried to cover it up with. He smells like a home you could live in forever.

You smile into the thrifted Blondie tee you got him — which he happily accepted because he loves you (even though he hates Blondie). He presses a kiss into your hair and smushes his nose into the crown of it as he laughs.

“‘Is that the one your mom works at?’” Eddie repeats with a soft chuckle, chest swelling with pride once more. “God, babe. That’s good.”

“Shut up…” you murmur.

“I’m serious! I didn’t know you were such a good smack-talker! I think you might be a genius, actually.”

“Don’t,” you grouse with a lighthearted scowl. You pull away from him only slightly — enough for him to put your face back in his hands again. You feel safest there, even if you are pouting up at him.

“You’re so cute,” the boy muses with a beam. His eyes glimmer like a sea of chocolate syrup, melting with all the love he has for you. “You’re like a cinnamon roll. A cinnamon roll that could bite people.”

“That’s exactly what I am,” you monotone and try your best not to smile.

Eddie couldn’t hide his grin if he tried. “And that’s exactly why I love you.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #eddie munson x shy!reader #bug's summer fic fest!

4K notes · View notes

endless-ineffabilities · 4 months ago

Text

Chemical Override (bonus chapter 2) - August!

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: this sweet one is set just before they broke it off (or rather, before the reader stomped all over his heart) in part five!

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

August! (... slipped away into a moment in time)

It's a fine morning, albeit lazy, you and Ewan having done nothing but lay in bed and talk and cuddle.

Granted, you did a lot more than talk over the course of the night. And this continued in the morning, with Ewan gently coaxing you out of sleep in need.

He's been insatiable, not that you can blame him. You two are finally together, after months of dancing around each other, your friends in eager anticipation to see how the 'will-they, won't they' dynamic will culminate.

They'll be pleased to know that it all led up to the best date you've had so far, followed by a night of bodies burning for the other, marking their territory in the throes of pent-up desire.

Ewan was sure he would remain the gentleman, merely driving you back to your hotel and calling it a night.

But you had invited him upstairs for a nightcap. Maybe some tea, as the Brits do. Needless to say, the tea was quickly forgotten, along with any reservations he might have about simply having you.

The haze of it hasn't subsided. Clad in nothing but undergarments, your limbs are tangled with his under the sheets as you watch the newly released New York foods video he did with Tom a while back.

"Baby?" you say, running your fingers through his hair as he has his head propped on your thighs. The screen plays on, showing the lads thoroughly enjoying some New York City hotdogs.

"Hmm?" he responds, his voice hinting at how soothed he feels from your touch.

"You're such a baby."

"What?" He twists his neck to shoot you a look of betrayal. Adorable.

"I bet those chips weren't even that spicy," you say, rolling your eyes. "I would have devoured those jalapeño chips."

"They were spicy!" He leans against his forearm, which he quickly positioned on your thigh without thinking, causing your muscle to spasm from the sudden weight.

"Ahhh, Ewan!" you wriggle your legs. "Get off, get off..."

"Shit!" He bolts upright, immediately kneading the flesh with his palm. "Sorry, baby. Here, where does it hurt?"

You sigh audibly. "Oh, you." You narrow your eyes at him playfully, trying to look all tough, but apparently he takes it as a cue to press his lips to yours.

It's warm, a bit sloppy, your breaths stale from wine drank over the course of the night. And you don't mind at all.

He croons in your ear, "How do I make it up to you?"

"It's fine, I was only kind of messing - "

"Come now, darling, anything."

He gazes at you, awaiting an answer. In the background, you hear his voice saying, The Fuegos... I didn't like them, as the video comes to a close.

I saw your eyeballs sort of pop out your head a little bit, Tom says in response.

This is going to be fun, you think, smiling evilly to yourself.

Rising to your knees on the bed, you loudly declare, "Today, my love, you will conquer your fears and eat my favourite spicy food."

"Nooo!" He shakes his head right away, already plotting how to get out of this predicament. "Baby, please make me do anything else. I can't handle my spice!"

"My mind is made up."

"What if I do that thing that made you scream last night? When I buried my tongue insi - '

"Ewan!" Your face reddens, but you carry on. His face will soon have the same reaction, but for different, more savoury reasons. "I mean, I would like that but - "

"Alright, let's go baby, spread your knees - " he nods, desperate to placate you and your challenge, but also eager to get down to business.

You shuffle away when he tries to pry your legs open. " - I said I made up my mind! We're eating spicy food. We gotta eat anyway, I'm starving."

He groans, collapsing back on the bed. He runs his hand tiredly over his face, mulling it over. As if he actually has a choice. He wants to do this for you, seeing as how excited you're getting.

"Get up, ol' sport," you crawl on top of him, perching above his stomach. "We're gonna go get the goods."

"Hmm," he sighs contentedly, one look at you more than enough to quell his worries. For now.

"Okay, darling," he relents, then his eyes flash in mischief. "But before we get out of bed... how about I do that thing anyway?"

There is not a single chance in the seven hells that you could ever say no to that.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

An interesting spread is laid out on the round dining table in your hotel suite.

Your stomach growls in anticipation, while Ewan is stiff as a board as he sits beside you.

"I'm hungry, aren't you?" you nudge him, but he only moans, throwing his head back in his chair.

"What if I'd already eaten? I can skip this?" he tries.

"And what the hell did you eat?"

He smirks, and even though his answer won't save him from what follows, it renders him gleeful all the same. "You," is his reply.

That prompts an eye roll, but you shake your head at him fondly. "What should we start with, baby?"

"Water."

"Come on."

"How about the strawberry milk?"

"Okay, then I'll pick." You clasp your hands, surveying the options. "Let's start with something easy." You settle for the bowl of Flamin Hot Cheetos and place it right in front of him.

You help yourself to a few pieces, before noticing that he hasn't moved a muscle, so you take one and bring it to his lips. "Open up, handsome."

"Mmmm," he tilts his head away on instinct, but he gives in after a second. He makes a face as the snack crunches in his mouth. "Not... bad, I suppose.... Urghhh - " he coughs a little, making you snicker at him between bites.

"That's not spicy at all," you say. "At least, it's nothing compared to what we'll have next."

The chicken wings are an unnatural bright red colour, covered in hot sauce and dotted with flecks of chili. You lean down and take a whiff, your nose scrunching as the strong hint of spice hits your senses.

Your placating smile does nothing to ease Ewan, who only looks like he is regretting his life choices on the spot.

"O-kay, dragonblood. Time to breathe fire," you remark in an attempt to inspire some confidence in him. Didn't he take pride in playing a Targaryen dragonrider? Surely some part of him would want to overcome the big, bad opponent that is known in our world as spicy wings.

"Breathe fire?" he exclaims. "That does not make me feel any better!"

"Do it for Vhagar, my love. Do it for Vhagar."

"I'm doing this for you," he corrects, before gingerly taking the smallest bite of a wing. He waits for the impact, confused when nothing unpleasant occurs.

So he bravely takes another, heartier bite.

Big mistake.

His hand gravitates to the glass of water, and he chugs it down like a lifeline. His once pale face becomes the same hue as the fiery culprit.

"Fffuck, ba...by," he hiccups. "I didn't like that at all."

You have a bite, wincing just a little when it hits your throat. It wasn't too bad, so you tell him to calm down.

He complains anyway, "I think I just saw my life flash right before my eyes."

You chortle at that, which unfortunately makes some of the spice travel up your nose. "Oh god!" You instantly take a huge gulp of milk. "Don't make me laugh!" you say, when the heat dies down.

"See?" he cries out in vindication. "Why must we torture ourselves, darling?"

"The food's tasty," you counter.

"Yeah, but is it worth the price?"

You grip his shoulder, dramatically saying, "We have to keep going, soldier."

"No."

"Yes."

"You won't break up with me if I refuse, will you?"

You pause, making it seem like you are seriously deliberating it. "Maybe."

"What?!" His expression takes on a more real sense of alarm.

"I'm kidding," you giggle, nudging his leg with yours. He leans his head against your shoulder, responding with, "You're mean."

"And you're dating me. What does that say about you?"

He lets out a weary laugh, "That I'm just really in love, I guess."

That almost makes you give up on the challenge entirely. You could just let him eat the pepperoni pizza you have saved as the actual meal. But it wouldn't hurt too much to tackle the grand finale. The final boss. Maybe it will even get his taste buds to crack and cross over to the dark side.

"Baby?" Here goes everything.

"Hmm?"

"It's time for the spicy ramen."

He sighs a true sigh of defeat and acceptance. "If I survive this, you have to swear you're never letting me go."

"That's your bargain? Easy, baby."

His blue eyes bore into yours. His cheeks are still red and he's still sniffling from the spice, but his sentiment holds weight. He shrugs, before his arm reaches out for the bowl of ramen, making it known that he has already accepted his fate.

You slide the glass of milk closer to him.

"Try not to get it on your lips as much as possible," you advise him, growing worried as the ramen pack did warn that it was '2x Spicy'.

You cringe inwardly as a forkful of noodles enters his mouth. He drops his arm, chewing slowly, and finally the food gratefully slides down his throat.

"Mmm," he clears his throat, trying his hardest to remain calm. His forced, blank expression is even more alarming than the alternative.

"Ewan?" He turns his head toward you, slowly. And you see the full extent of the damage. His eyes well with tears, and his breathing is shallow from an even more congested nose.

"I'm okay," he wheezes, trying to maintain a show of boldness for your sake. "I can do this."

"You don't look okay." You shake your head at him, as his face takes on an even deeper shade of red.

A pained grunt escapes him. "Maybe a kiss will make it better."

A cursory glace at the ramen sauce staining his lips compels you to protest without a second thought. "How about no? You've got it all over your lips."

"Darling, who cares? You're going to eat them too!" he says, scandalised.

"But I've got a technique. I don't let it touch my lips so it doesn't burn!" You inch away as he leans in.

"So you won't kiss me?" He uses his baby blues against you, eyes bright and shimmering as he pouts in disappointment.

"You don't need a kiss." He tries to grab you, making you stand from your chair to get away. With your palm outstretched, you implore him, "Baby, just drink your milk."

"Then I get a kiss?"

"Fine. Then you get a kiss."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Tom calls you a few days later, his tone animated from the moment you pick up. "Would you look at that! I didn't think I would get a hold of you lovers. Thought you'd be busy doing somethin' else, if y'know what I mean."

"It's noon here, Tom," you reply matter-of-factly, stretching your legs out on the bed.

"So? I reckon Captain Big Balls over there has got it in him."

"Wow," you let out an amused exhale. Tom always did have a way about him, being a Manc and all. "Well, he's in the shower right now if you wanted to speak to him."

"I'm surprised you're not in there with him, love! You guys are all over the news, bloody hell. Even out here, everyone's buzzin' about the hot new couple from House of the Dragon. And no, it's not Matt and Fabien."

You smirk at his last remark, "Are you sure it's not Matt and Fabs?"

"Positive," he says. "But we never know what could happen. Anyway, how in the hell did you convince him?"

You rack your brain for what exactly he could be pertaining to. "Convince him to do what?"

"To create a bloody Instagram profile, that's what!"

Your mouth falls open, and you quickly put him on speaker so you can scroll to the aforementioned app. Sure enough, it doesn't take long for you to sift through your new follower notifications before you find him.

His username is on brand - straightforward and no-frills - just ewanmitchell . Already verified with a hundred thousand followers and counting. In his following list, however, there is only one - your profile.

If the papparazzi pictures and tabloid stories and fan encounters hadn't convinced everyone yet, likely this will.

Ewan, notorious not only for his charisma and pure talent, but also for being steadfast in staying off social media, has sent the entirety of Ewan Nation into a tailspin with his profile.

Icing on the cake - he only follows you.

"You see, this is what convinces the public that you two are not PR," Tom says. "Because Ewan would never, ever get on the socials for just anyone."

"I didn't even know he made this. I haven't been online in quite a bit."

"Been busy, huh?" he asks.

"Yeah."

"Doin' a lot of stuff out there?"

"I guess."

"Like Ewan?"

"Tom, I'm going to lynch you when I see you."

He only laughs, having gotten his desired outcome from prodding at you.

The bathroom door slides open, and Ewan steps out with nothing but a towel haphazardly wrapped around his waist.

"Who's that?" he mouths at you.

"Tom," you answer loudly, prompting Tom to greet Ewan from the speakerphone.

"Aemond the Fierce!" he bellows, the long-distance call doing nothing to stifle his personality. "I always knew you had it in ya. Ever since you laid eyes on her during the table read, I knew it was only a matter of time."

Well, isn't that a revelation. You had thought it was just you harbouring a crush in the beginning. "The table read, really? I just remember being so nervous," you say.

"I thought you were attractive," Ewan admits, scratching the back of his neck. "And you were reading your lines with such passion that I... "

Tom interrupts, "He ran over to me and told me to show him your social media."

"Not just that, I - "

"He wanted to see whether you had any pictures with a boyfriend or something."

"Alright, alright." Ewan snatches the phone from your hand, as if that will keep Tom from exposing him even more. "How are you, mate?"

"I'm good, lad, and yourself?"

Ewan glances at you, seeing that you've gone back to reading a script, your brow furrowed in concentration.

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

"I'm great. I'm happy."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

"Over here! Over here!"

"How's your evening going, you guys? How are you enjoying LA?"

The papparazzi needlessly try to make small talk and they flash their cameras in your face. You and Ewan barely have time to grimace at each other once you get inside his car. The restaurant where he took you to dinner hadn't been crawling with paps when you arrived. Someone must have tipped them at some point.

Ewan instinctively reaches for your hand when you've driven some distance away from the restaurant, a breath of relief exiting his lungs.

"That's Hollywood for you, baby," he says amusedly, putting on his best standard American accent.

The car speeds through the streets of LA. Heading to Mount Hollywood, you have the famous Griffith Observatory set as your destination.

You have always wanted to go, and it only took one mention to Ewan before he planned it for your next date.

It doesn't take long before the observatory's iconic structure comes into view. Its white domes seemingly gleam under the night sky, a sentinel watching over the city of Los Angeles.

Stepping out of the car, you take in the scene in awe. The resulting look on your face lets Ewan know he made the right choice in taking you here. He'd take you here everyday if it meant seeing you in a spell of childlike wonder.

The observatory itself is just a bonus.

The outer balcony stretches like a vertice into the vastness of the city, a sea of lights glistening down below. It seemed to sprawl on endlessly, a labyrinth of hopes and pains and dreams.

You stand there, drawn to the view like a moth to a flame. The evening breeze dances through your hair, and your face is aglow from the illuminated city.

Smiling widely, you turn and find Ewan lingering just behind, watching you.

"Come and look at this, my love," you wave him over.

He wants to capture the moment, so he does. He subtly points his camera in your direction. Your profile is partially visible, with your face turned out into the horizon. Your silhouette stands before a mosaic of the shining city.

But it's you that has his attention. You that pulls all of his focus into the frame.

He never thought he would have much use for a public social media profile like the one he created on Instagram, but hours later, as you're sound asleep beside him, he finds purpose for such a thing.

He uploads the first ever photo on his profile - the one he secretly took of you at the observatory.

Too conscious to think of a caption, he doesn't type in any, content to let the photo speak for itself.

Putting his phone away, he presses a soft kiss to your forehead and falls into blissful slumber.

Ewan hadn't been aware of the phrase breaking the internet, and he's in for quite the rude awakening.

Even so, he doesn't let it faze him.

You're in shock when you discover the amount of comments under the photo, well past the twelve thousand mark when you wake up. Positive, negative, and everything in between.

Almost unheard of for an Instagram debut.

His reaction?

"At least everyone knows that you're mine now. What's wrong with that?"

You can vote here on the reader's hotd character name!

Taglist: @sprinklesprinkle888 @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @hotdismylife @vyctorya @wildrangers @livcookesgf @dracaryxzs @aemondwhoresworld @aisselasstuff @onlyrealjoy (continued in comments)

The sad, angsty bits will be saved for the next proper chapter! What happens to Ewan's Instagram then? What happens to him?? 🥲💔

I was going to include the double date idea, but alas, my ideas ran dry.

I've got nothing but love for all of you that have followed this story to this point! If you've got scene requests, just let me know!

#ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell imagine #aemond targaryen #chemical override #ewan mitchell fanfic #hotd

620 notes · View notes

moonchild1 · 9 months ago

Text

jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅹ)

yup i've hit you with another list and once again i had so much fun putting it together... i was away for a bit but that spark came back and i'm back in action... this list holds so many amazing fics i've read it's alot of different types of storylines and some new genres i wanted to try out and i am so excited to go down that road with these new genres i haven't explored yet, but please do enjoy this list there's so many great fics here you will get lost in it i know it did, my next list should be out by next month i want to take time to read as many as i can and get back all that excitement so the next one might take a while... since these fics are so outstanding we can't forget to give all the love and support to the incredible authors who have taken the time to plan and write these fics without them we wouldn't get to read such beautiful and entertaining fics so please so them all the love and support in the world cause they truly deserve it leave them a nice comment, like and reblog the posts so others can discover them too and give them a follow and check out their masterlists i'm telling you, you will most definitely fall in love with their work and find lots of great pieces in there. most of the fics i recommend contain smut so no minors allowed and don't interact you as well as ageless blgs will be blocked and if you would like to share a fic with me you are more than welcome too i love hearing from you i hope you all enjoy this list and till next time ~ kiki ♡

f- fluff s- smut a-angst

series

between takes by @jeonstudios f s a

as a fluffer for a popular porn star, your focus is to keep him hard and performing on set. turns out he's not the only thing that's hard.

i want you to stay by @ahundredtimesover f s a

Working for Jungkook isn’t the same as working for Hoseok. For starters, Jungkook doesn’t smile, he doesn’t appreciate you, and he gives you too much work. It doesn’t help that he’s incredibly handsome and has women at his beck and call. But as the tension grows, it becomes impossible to resist him. You've dedicated yourself to your job for 8 years so when you finally decide to put yourself first, he asks you to reconsider. And while you know that leaving is difficult, you learn that when it comes to Jungkook, staying is always so much harder.

you're losing me by @sparklingchim s a

in the midst of marital challenges, jungkook and you grapple with the complexities of your relationship. yet, the lingering question whispers: how do you truly determine if the journey is worthwhile?

kiss the girl by @guked f s a

after saving a human prince from being drowned by the sea witch, you’re cursed by that infamous witch to live out the rest of your days as a human—unless you can manage to get true love’s kiss from that very same prince. which would be a simple task, had he not hated you the moment you met.

flux by @yoonia s a ft. myg

One of them is your longtime secret crush, while the other is the man with whom you had shared many heated nights filled with lust and forbidden desire, forever kept as your biggest secret of all time. You had sworn that those sinful nights would end, and that your secret crush would remain a secret. poly au

in motion by @/yoonia s

The rule is simple; you can look but you can’t touch. You’ve been attending the event for a few times since you’ve encountered the voyeurism club, but it was only when a certain boy arrives on one occasion did you feel the fire of lust burning inside.

what the fire gave us by @gimmethatagustd f s a

↬ You were born with a Gift that the world wanted to turn into a weapon. All Jungkook wanted to do was show you that you could find love, even in the dark.

friend in me by @ktheist f s a

“don’t confuse your party friends with your real friends.”

knife's edge by @readyplayerhobi f s a ft. pjm

The Jeon Clan is Family, built on blood and loyalty. It’s been an unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the Clan, Jeon Jungkook. You would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?

take a chance by @crystaljins a

You should have known the second your business partner asked you to plan his best friend’s wedding as a favour that it was going to be nothing but trouble. Especially when it turns out he’s in love with said best friend. And dying of a deadly disease because of it.

chess of ice by @jimlingss f a

Jeon Jungkook is a rising star, aka. hockey captain of a team heading for the Olympics. The last thing he expects is to begin a whole ‘nother sport, holding a broomstick in his hand, sweeping the ice and throwing dumb stones towards a target. As if that wasn’t bad enough, his love life is about to turn into a game of chess as well....and you’re his opponent.

diamond in the rough by @kimvtae f s a

When a business heir from Busan, Jeon Jungkook, meets you, a poor girl from Daegu, he doesn’t expect to fall as quickly as he does. He’s been told for his entire life to avoid Daegu, a town riddled with gangs and a history of a brutal murder in Busan, but he can’t stay away from you, even when he’s warned that you’re not good enough for him.

try hard by @hobibliophile f s

Yoongi asks you to help him photograph the university rugby team, and you’re reluctant until you see Jeon Jungkook in uniform. Damn.

cruel intentions by @jeonqukie f s a

All is well in your overtly simplistic life. You managed to maintain decent grades in university all the while progressing through your relationship with your long-time boyfriend and accompanying your best friend in her exhausting personal life. But as the saying goes when there are ups, there will surely be downs. While you’ve maintained this upward pattern, you are defeated when one afternoon inevitably brings you to a downward spiral. All good things must come to an end. Who knew you would be sharing the same sentiment with someone you barely know.

sillage by @deerguk s

Soulmate!AU where soulmates are drawn to one another by the infliction of physical touch, whether it be pain or pleasure. But it is only initiated once the two people somewhat interact.

remote learning by @hansolmates s

working remote sucks, and you would love a little relief. after buying a new toy to blow off some steam, you’re baffled when you can’t cum. however, jungkook thinks you’re doing it wrong, and shows you a thing or two.

when it rains by @choiwrites s a

Being an exotic dancer was never easy. Every day was the same for you, until you reached that one breaking point you’ve been avoiding since your miserable life started. On a rainy night, Jungkook and his yellow umbrella were your last call of hope.

hate at first weeb by artaemis, freckleyoon (ao3)

You just want to weeb in peace but your annoying downstairs neighbour just won't let you breathe

wanted by @jincherie s a

You were a deserter, a renegade, a wanted “criminal”. It was never in your plans to crash land on that planet, and it most certainly wasn’t in your plans to fall in love with it’s handsome ruler.

everything in you by @jjungkookislife f s a

You want a baby and Jungkook is willing to help. f2l, roommates au, pregnant!reader

home for the holidays by @/jjungkookislife f s a

Jungkook is in desperate need to find a girlfriend for Christmas. His mom has nagged and nagged about him bringing someone home for the holidays. Determined, Jungkook recruits his friends in hopes of finding the right girl to take home. In need of a place to stay, and no plans for Christmas, you answer his friend’s ad. You have 25 days to convince not only his parents but his grandmother that you’re in a real relationship, solid enough to get through Christmas with the Jeons.

every breath you take by @junqkook s a

everything was going great when you first met jeon jungkook. he was a new light in your life with soft smiles and tinkling laughs; but then you noticed a lurking presence that seemed to follow you wherever you went.

navy by @jjkfire f a

He’s your best friend, practically your other half and the two of you have always promised to be there for each other no matter what. The both of you have dreams of professionally making music together one day and to you it’s almost like reality, a given really, and with each day, the dream starts to feel like it’s within reach. But, one day, with one sentence, Jungkook destroys it all.

wicked by @adonis-koo s a

In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

paper doll by @winetae s a

When the nation’s little sister, IU, gets into a huge scandal, your agency seizes the opportunity to thrust you into that now vacant spotlight. Your self-composed song Paper Doll becomes an overnight sensation, and soon people are itching to find out who was the one who broke your heart. All hell breaks loose once netizens discover that you used to date popular idol, Jeon Jungkook. Little do they know that it wasn’t him who left the relationship unscathed — it was you.

one shot

the devil's change up by @jungblue f s

Majoring in athletic training means you have mandatory observation hours to perform with every single sports team at your school throughout the year, and so far it’s been going pretty great. However, when regrets from your past cause your rotation with the baseball team to become a little rocky, there’s one star pitcher who says that he can make it all better.

this is how we break up by @/ahundredtimesover s a

There are things you prepared for coming back home and that includes seeing your ex-boyfriend, but helping him design his apartment isn’t one of them. From meetings over coffee and lunches with your friends, you both learn more about the time in-between, and what you find out leave you heartbroken, wondering if there’s enough of you left to try to get back what you’d lost. “You know what they say about past lovers remaining friends? It’s either they never loved each other to begin with, or they still do. And we all know how much they loved each other, don’t we?”

a piece of the moonlight by @/jimlingss f a

For your loved ones, the people who are waiting at home, the people who have died - you will fight. And sometimes to fight means to sacrifice: who you really are and the person you really love.

the quest to bedding the lead singer of frontman by @kpopfanfictrash s

Frontman is your favorite band in the world and honestly, the only reason you waited this long in line is to stand at the front for a shot with the lead singer. Enter sexy sound boy, who just won’t leave you alone. (punk!Jungkook)

heartbreak trials by @dreamyjoons s a

it all started with a bet: the one with the highest body count would get the most illustrious prize - Namjoon’s bedroom. For you and Jungkook, the race was on.

perhaps love by @mangowillow f a

for as long as you can remember, you have been in love with your childhood friend turned roommate, but jeon jungkook remains oblivious even when he comes to comfort and help you sleep every night.

what? now by @theharrowing f s

For as long as you and Jungkook have been friends, your feelings for him have been unrequited. Or have they?

lilac wisteria by @blushoseoks f a

the first time jeon jungkook says that he is going to marry you, you are five years old sitting underneath a large wisteria tree.

tell me no lies by @jeongi f s a

You chose to rob your boss, however; you never expected to fall in love with him.

mcd*ckin by @jinned s

"So, if I'm so predictable," you tease, running your finger along his clothed chest, "what am I going to do next?"

things you said while you were driving by @cupofteaguk f

post breakup au

(y)our name by @jjkpls f s a ft ot 6

It’s always been the two of you since you were little. People came and went in your lives and Jungkook didn’t mind until you turn into grown-ups and he starts to mind a bit too much.

(un)welcomed addition by @shuadotcom f a

After a drunken one night stand with your neighbor, you have your reasons for wanting to forget it ever happened and never talk to him again. Unfortunately, Jungkook wins the award for the world’s worst neighbor so his 3 am wakeup calls and mail stealing have you banging at his door on an almost weekly basis. You just want to make it to the end of your lease so you can leave all the traces of the fuckboy next door behind...unless your feelings get in the way of course.

Just Like the Movies by @/shuadotcom f s a

When you need a fake date for your cousin’s wedding and all of your other friends have plans, that only leaves your best friend Jungkook - who you also happen to be completely in love with. It’ll be easy getting through a week of fake dating him, right?

watermelon sugar by @/shuadotcom f s a

When your friends outvote you for your annual summer trip, you end up stuck at a beachside town. To make it worse, there’s an irritating local surfer boy that won’t leave you alone… that is until you see him shirtless and in the water - then you don’t want him to leave you alone and your unexpected summer romance begins.

take my whole life by @/ktheist f s a

chaebol au. arranged marriage au. expecting parents au.

never let you go by @yeojaa f s

You do things without thought, making impulse decisions that’d make Freud proud. Sometimes they pay off, sometimes they don’t. (or: Jeon Jungkook’s just as impulsive as you.)

speaking in bodies by @/yeojaa f s a

The holidays have never meant much to you - less a promise of Christmas morning joy and more a reminder of all the things you’ve lost. Some would call you a grinch; others, just a plain old asshole. Jeon Jungkook would call you both. The more time you spend together, though, the more you thaw, melting beneath the sun that seems to sit right in the centre of his chest.

howling for you by @fortunexkookie f s

The way your Little Red Riding Hood costume lured over a fuckboy in a half-assed werewolf costume was a little cliche, but god damn was he beautiful. He promised he had plenty of big things to show you, and you took him up on the offer, not realizing that you might’ve bitten off more than you could chew

cold nights & blurred lines by @awrkive f s a

jungkook and you have been in a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. but as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? it definitely is. will you do something about it? both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

christmas is waiting for you by @/lamourche f s ft myg (ao3)

Being home for the holidays surrounded by your well-meaning family isn’t that bad. All you have to do is (1) survive the Andersons’ annual Christmas Eve party, (2) avoid all questions about your job, and (3) avoid your high school nemesis (not a crush!), Jeon Jungkook.

lost stars by @/subvk f s a (ao3)

Falling in love with Jeon Jungkook was everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more, but maybe it was exactly that: a dream so blissful and comforting that it was too good to be true, something that could all disappear when the night changes to day, and your eyes open again. Or, making a marriage pact with your best friend was supposed to instill a sense of hope for you, so why does this hurt you more than it should?

a beautiful epiphany by @/subvk f s a (ao3)

Derailed by heartbreak and the loss of inspiration, Jeon Jungkook tries to rediscover his love for art again. As his best friend, you’re willing to do anything to help him reignite his lost passion. Little do you know that the struggling artist’s new muse is closer than you think.

the philosophy of goodluck by @kidguk f s

“you told me i looked good and that you needed to get a tattoo of my face” is not the explanation you wanted to hear from the tattoo artist that permanently etched the dumbest drunken request of your life onto your skin.

mountebank by @/kidguk f s ft. pjm

Soulmate AU featuring Jimin, in which you’ve been waking up next to your soul-enemy and running from your soul-mate. Figure that mess out, will you?

holidays of breads and wood by @cutaepatootie f a

Every December now smells like freshly baked bread and wood to you. Its cold wind brings you memories of him every morning as you are kneading your mixture of water, flour and a pinch of nutmeg – the secret ingredient that makes your bread taste so special. It seeps through the open window of your small kitchen and shakes your entire body. It seeps under your flour-stained apron, getting through your clothes and reminding you of his soft touch. It sounds like forest and shines like snow under the sunlight. It fills your nostrils with familiar scents. Every December now feels like distant memories of a man you once knew, who loved to carve his dreams in wood.

a fallen bookmark on a thursday afternoon by @/cutaepatootie f s a

He came to you like the air comes into the train station after the fast arriving of the machine. It comes fast and unexpected, making you hoist your head to look at the long vehicle and the people inside. It is so fast you can’t even distinguish the different wagons. As the train comes to a stop, the wind that it creates plays with your hair, leaving you breathless. That’s how Jeon Jungkook came into your life.

every kind of way by @gukslut s

Three little vignettes, three completely different experiences, same perfectly wonderful boyfriend JK

heavy lifting by @snackhobi f

you work the night shift in a supermarket. and now your crush, aka the cutest boy in the world, aka the guy you’ve been thirsting after for months, aka jeon jungkook, works the night shift too.

blue orchid by @inkedtae f a

hanahaki & soulmate au

up to snow good by @aredheadedmess f a

It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.

cherry bomb by @milfgyuu f s

You’re a cocktail waitress in a high end nightclub and you’ve been mutually crushing on one of the bartenders. Tonight, one of your customers oversteps boundaries and when Jungkook gets involved, you’re ready to toss your ‘no dating co-workers’ policy out the window.

work it out by @/choiwrites s

You never would have thought that you’d be working with the college dropout who was coincidentally your best friend’s ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Saying his name already burns your tongue, you wonder how long you can hold your professionalism around him.

all in by @iamjungkooked s a

Jeon Jungkook is everything you have ever desired in a partner. He’s kind, passionate, funny, honest, warm and every positive adjective in the dictionary. He totally gets you and you get him. He seems like the perfect guy for you, except he is dating your best friend. What could possibly go wrong? OR The four times you get the wind knocked out of you by Jeon Jeongguk

until my last breath by @/iamjungkooked s a

Sporting an undercut and tattoos Jeon Jungkook waltzes back in your life after 5 years of being away. You think you know him– and just when you think you have gotten close, he reveals a secret (or two). Following this, is a series of trials and tribulations that concludes in a way you never expect. (Alternatively: the one where Jungkook creates a mess out of you)

está dañada by @aquagustd f s a

life through the eyes of someone who watches you fall apart and helps gather the shards of your heart, only for you to make the same mistake time and time again, but he refuses to accept the truth because to him, you’re infallible.

coin toss by @yoondoze a

you and jeongguk go way back, even before you were the menacing duo many knew you to be, even before he brought you into the mafia and left you there to join the city’s detective agency. a call for cooperation comes out of a common enemy, requiring the two of you to reconcile for one last mission.

wonder by @bubmyg f a

romance novels lie about finding some deep epiphany in the ocean because you find your inspiration in some chlorine tainted red locks or where jeongguk isn’t smooth with a pool net.

starboy by @sugaxjpg s

Jeon Jungkook was, above anything else, the type you should not get involved with. He was the guy who slept around; the guy who was gone before you woke up; who left a path of broken hearts and missed calls wherever he went. He was right in just about every wrong way. That being said, maybe the bet you made with your friend could be the best thing that happened to you in a long time, and even enough to break the chain of misfortune that circled your party nights — after all, it was all just a simple, four-part plan to make Jungkook beg for you. What could possibly go wrong?

symmetry by @adriftmoonchild s a

with both of you being from rival houses, the smirk that jungkook seemed to throw in your direction every shared class did nothing for your disdain towards him. as far as you were concerned he was arrogant and childish; you just wished he wasn’t so damn good in bed.

little surfer girl by @ppersonna f s a

every summer you watched jeon jungkook turn into a perfect, professional surfer. every summer, you wanted him more. this summer, you were determined to make him yours.

↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library

2K notes · View notes