#yes i am listening to too sweet on repeat

[rhenuvee]

The Secret Menu [Diluc x reader]

Summary: Diluc's love for you is overflowing, so he wants to find a way to show you... [established relationship]

A/N: Happy new year everyone! Manifesting positive vibes and good health for you all! Sorry for the inactivity again, I am trying to post and interact more but clearly it's difficult aaa

Warnings: Old draft... just trying to get rid of it so sorry if this is cringe and rushed

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"...What's your favourite drink?"

Diluc asks this one evening you decide to accompany him at the Angel's Share. You're in a safe spot, closest to him of course. He was thinking about something for quite a while- something to surprise you with.

"My favourite drink..?"

You didn't think anything of the question, though you were curious when you saw Diluc's expression- deep in thought, yet spaced out. You give it some thought and he listens attentively as you talk about the drinks you like: You ramble about the sweet fruit juice which was your first drink Diluc gave you at the Angel's Share, the milky drink you had that quenched your thirst on hot days, a flowery drink you had in Liyue that soothed your stomach...

A week passed, and you felt like Diluc was busying himself more. You decided to visit him again at his work, but surprisingly he approached you with a task.

"Could you try these for me?" He places four small glasses in front of you, with the same coloured liquid in them.

"Oh! Is this going to be on the menu?" You ask while examining the liquid curiously before trying them.

"S-Sort of." He replies. He places a glass of water to reset your tastes after each one, as well as a tissue just in case. How sweet, you think, smiling at the thought of his care for you. However, you don't expect even more sweetness when you try each one, the subtle differences on your tongue.

"Mm, they're all really good 'Luc~" He relishes in your delighted expression, eyes closed and smiling for the taste of the drink he made. But just this once there's something else he's anticipating. He waits patiently for your comments as you think of what to say. "Three has a thicker texture, while two has more sweetness from the fruit you added. I'm not sure which one patrons would like more, though..."

"Which one do you like, my love?" Diluc smiles at how sweet yet honest you were with your feedback. But your opinion is what he needs.

"Me?" You ask. And suddenly you feel a hint of something different in the way the asks you this with softness. The way he looked at you so lovingly- well he always does, but it felt like the same look he gave you when he held you close at night, soothing you before finally falling asleep. Or when he arrived with flowers for you when you go on dates. "I like this one the best, but maybe with a bit more of the fruity flavour."

Diluc only quietly nods and immediately gets started on the change you suggested. It is from this response that you wonder what's got him distracted- or rather what he's puzzled about. You've come to know that this is the face he makes when he is thinking hard about something.

"Why do you ask...?" You subtly ask, almost as a whisper. You didn't want to intrude in case this was a secret. You so soft that you weren't sure if he heard you and if you should repeat it. But Diluc always hears your voice. He turns to you, and gives the new and improved drink without saying a word. You're too occupied with the anticipation of the new taste, so you don't notice the blush slowly rising on his cheeks and his furiously beating heart. You take a sip and your eyes widen.

"It's perfect." You blink with a smile, giving him the positive note that he's made it the best.

"It's for you." He says softly, looking at you dearly. He relishes in the moment that your mouth subtly hangs in an O-shape, expressing your surprise.

Yes, your favourite drink. He wanted to make something for you. However, he couldn't paint pictures as good as his father did. Though he can cook, he doesn't think he'll master dishes as well as Adelinde and the other maids. And Diluc would absolutely kill for the ability to make you a piece of jewelry, but his hands are too coarse, he thinks. Not delicate enough to make you something of quality- something perfect for you. He wants to make something from his own hand- that showed his love. And so...

"You made a drink for me?" You repeat in a question, starting to feel emotional. Your hands instantly feel the need to pull your lover closer, and he notices as he complies with your movement, leaning toward you and letting you hook your arms around his neck.

Diluc gives a soft but slow nod, but it's all that's needed to convey his confirmation of love. You share a quick kiss, letting your lips submit to the rhythm he guides you with. His large hand comes over to smooth against the skin of your cheek, then grazes behind your ear. You both pull back, relishing in the short and sweet moment, unable to stop the smiles on your faces.

Though you've been together for a while, you always appreciate his thoughtful gestures and how he reaffirms his love for you more and more. You love the drink Diluc made for you, but most of all, you love him.

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[iliterallydecepticanteven]

Does Hozier know shitty the TSA actually is. Like I get the sentiment behind the line, but he's not American so does he actually know how terrible the TSA is. I got full sized scissors through a not busy TSA once. They weren't hidden they were just in my purse. It's important to me that Hozier know that the TSA is not great at what they're supposed to be great at.

[redwolf17]

Checked out the new Hozier EP, it's all good but Too Sweet is goddamn great

[hyunebunx]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ 'make me' with skz !

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: this is very suggestive lmao

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: this is a repost from my old blog! so if you feel like you've read this before, that's why :)

𝜗୧ chan 𝜗୧

“Make you? Make you do what?” yes, he will play dumb to ‘make you’ use your words and elaborate.

Doesn’t do anything and acts oblivious until you actually say it, no matter how much he wants to.

Acts bubbly and normal like nothing even happened, laughing away without a care in the world while watching tiktoks or something. Unbothered.

The moment you do speak, something inside him snaps and he’s got you backed against a wall in moments, talking lowly over your lips while caressing your face.

𝜗୧ minho 𝜗୧

Oh, he will. No matter the context or where you are, Minho will take your words as a challenge and do anything in his power to make you regret ever doubting him.

Gives you this specific look that makes you go weak in the knees, raising a single eyebrow before beckoning you closer.

Will whisper in your ear, giving you one more chance to back down while softly playing with a strand of your hair.

If you don’t do as he says, he will start whispering the dirtiest stuff with the straightest face, being content with just flustering you until you get home and he can finally ‘make you’.

𝜗୧ changbin 𝜗୧

Forget about teasing and playing dumb, Changbin will ‘make you’ instantly. He doesn’t play around.

Will also back you up against the nearest surface and cup your face, resting his forehead on yours with a smirk on his face.

He feels so smug and cocky when he sees you get shy and regret your words that he can’t help but find the whole situation amusing.

The power imbalance the moment provides feeds his ego so don’t expect to get away with this scot-free. Changbin will punish you thoroughly.

𝜗୧ hyunjin 𝜗୧

Raises an eyebrow and just…stares at you, blinking. Looks so unphased that you actually think he didn’t hear you at first.

But he did, and the moment you repeat yourself, he stands up to tower over you, fisting some of your hair in a makeshift ponytail to bring your face closer to his.

Licks his lips just to torture you a little more before finally pressing them to yours for a needy kiss, the soft action a straight contrast from the hold he still had on your hair.

When he pulls away, he repeats the words that got such an answer from you and expects you to finally listen, eyes sharp without any hint of playfulness in them.

𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧

Turns red instantly and his brain kind of short-circuits because he wasn’t really expecting that.

If this was said in the heat of the moment during an argument, all of the anger will leave his body and he will just…stand there, flustered.

His mind will be racing with all of the things he wants to do to you, some innocent, others not so much while he looks at you, licking his lips.

Jisung will be tongue-tied, wanting to say too many things at once so you have to be the one pulling him from his trance if you want something to happen.

𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧

Felix will get the biggest smirk on his face, I swear. These are two of his favorite words after all.

He will make you do things you’ve never even dreamt of doing so be careful what you wish for.

Takes a hold of your hand and draws you closer until you’re a breath away, placing a sweet peck on your lips that somehow leaves you dizzy and desperate for more.

Then, his voice drops and you feel the vibration in your bones as he speaks. “Make you do what exactly? Tell me, in detail.”

𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧

Oh, you want him to make you shut up? Say no more.

Will get up and actually go through all the trouble of getting a paper towel and shoving it in your mouth Minho style (I AM SO SORRY KSJDGNDF BUT HE WOULD)

That is if he isn’t in the mood to play your games. If he is, however, things would be completely different.

“Are you sure this is what you want? You might end up regretting it.”

𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧

A tease from beginning to end. He won’t take you seriously at all I’m afraid.

Might even laugh in your face before making himself more comfortable in his seat, (man)spreading his legs before beckoning you closer with a single finger, amused.

Wants you to entertain him and if you don’t, he will ‘make you’.

Will place you in his lap and use his words to fluster you beyond belief, his fingertips ghosting over your skin sending shivers down your spine.

[gloomwitchwrites]

What If 141 and the best enemies to lovers line of all time...

"Who did this to you?"

Cue protective instincts and sexiness

hehe I am giggling!! Okay. Listen. I am fully aware that this is an enemies to lovers trope, but I don't think it applies to all of the 141 guys in that manner. Is there protectiveness? Yes. Is there a bit of spice? Yes, if you squint really hard. Is there also some sweetness thrown in? Absolutely there is. I had lots of fun with this one. I hope you enjoy it!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x 141!Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, brief blood and injury, hurt/comfort, brief suggestive themes, protectiveness, light angst

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Who did this?” Kyle bends forward at the waist, pressing a bag of frozen peas to your face. His concern is genuine. You can see that, but it’s strange. The two of you get on, but this is something else.

Kyle looks…angry like your injury personally offends him.

“It’s nothing,” you murmur. “Things happen during sparing. It’s fine.”

Kyle’s frown only deepens. He doesn’t believe you. And why should he? The person you were placed with took it too far. And it was all to impress him as if putting you in your place would somehow grant his favor.

It’s clearly done the opposite. He could care less about your sparring partner.

“It was your sparring partner, wasn’t it?”

You don’t answer. Just press the peas to your forehead a little harder.

This time, Kyle’s frown turns slightly upward. “Jokes on them, ya?”

You glance at him sideways. “How so?”

Kyle is grinning. It’s stunning. All pearly white teeth.

“Because I have my eye on someone else,” he says simply, as if that answers everything.

Though you cannot see yourself, you feel your face growing hot under Kyle’s gaze.

“You shouldn’t say thing like that,” you reply.

“Why? It’s true.”

John Price

“Who did this?”

“Why do you care so much, John?”

You attempt to pull your face out of his grasp but he holds firm.

“Of course I care,” he replies. The two of you stare into each other’s eyes, chests heaving. John is close. Too close. So close he could easily brush his lips against yours.

“I don’t know why,” you murmur.

“You do,” he affirms, authority in his tone.

Do you? Maybe. Perhaps. Deep within yourself you truly know the reason but can’t decide to speak it to the air. That would make this real. Whatever this is between the two of you.

‘Tell me who did this?”

“And do that what?”

“What the fuck I want to them, love.”

“It’s nothing. You shouldn’t worry about it,” you reply, again trying to escape from him.

But John isn’t having it. His other hand hooks around your upper arm, and then you’re pressed closed to him. He is so warm. All strength.

“Let go,” you say, but there is no volume behind it. It is weak. Not even a protest.

“Tell me,” he repeats, head dipping slightly.

Yes. Close enough to kiss.

“Tell me,” he says again, this time softer.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon’s blood beats heavy. It is tinged with metal. A lace of fire that cannot abate.

His boots slap against the linoleum floor. The overhead lights are bright. Clinical. He is a shadow here. A dark specter.

No one stops him. No one glances his way.

And why should they?

He is a man made fury.

There were hands put upon you. A training exercise taken too far. Simon was not there. And he doesn’t know why. Not exactly. But he’s furious. Protective. The fact that he could not stop this only infuriates him further.

To him, this is a failure.

He doesn’t come to a stop. Doesn’t knock. He barges right on in.

The nurse yelps. Spins suddenly. Face red.

You glance up, eyes wide at first but soothing slightly as they land on Simon. You’re bruised. Stitched up.

Fucking hell.

“Out,” barks Simon.

The nurse leaves but stares him down the entire time. He approaches the table, and lightly brushes the backs of his fingers against the wound on your forehead.

“Who did this?” he asks.

“Simon—”

“Which fucker?” he growls, bending forward slightly to look into your eyes.

“Should see the other guy,” you joke, smiling.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny shouldn’t feel this way. He shouldn’t. You’re not his. Even if he wishes it were so.

Every swing of his fist sends the building frustration outward, shooting into the massive boxing bag before him. It’s a poor substitute for the face he truly wants to smash. Several faces that is. Two specifically.

Who did this?

The words slipped from him unbidden. An instant anger. You had only scowled. Told him you could handle yourself. And you can. Johnny knows this. But he’s still fucking pissed about it. Still seething.

All the fucker got was a quick slap on the wrist. A promise to not do it again.

That sits sour in Johnny’s belly.

But you didn’t cave, no matter how much Johnny insisted that he’d take care of it on your behalf. So he is here, punching the shit out of something that isn’t flesh.

He wishes he could take away your pain. Take away the memory. Give it to himself to carry. You don’t turn on your own. There’s no honor in what happened.

But as much as he wants it to be true, Johnny can do nothing.

You are not his.

Even if he wants to be.

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@sapphichotmess @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@pearljamislife @heeheehoohoohahahihi @eternallyvenus @burn1ngw00d @taysarchive

[shotmrmiller]

response to this but it got so long and ig im in my throuple era rn

@xoxunhinged i listened to one (1) song on repeat while writing this on the phone

okay yeah wait or just

it's ghost x price first.

Big burly men taking up too much space in the little coffee shop you work at or something and they're there like clockwork too. Every wednesday and friday, 8 am, usually the first clients of the day and all they order is a regular cup of joe. Plain. You offer alternative sweeteners, powdered creamer, but no dice.

Plain black. Like the occasional smudge of eyeliner(?) around the bigger one's eyes.

They're cute, in their own way. John is a blend of rugged charm and seasoned wisdom. The other, Simon, is mysterious. Guarded. Speaks only to his companion.

The pet names start to get to your head. Of course, you reason that John's just not from around here. His calling you sweetheart from across the room to grab your attention must be English.

But logic cannot stop the heat from licking up your cheeks when he does. or when Simon calls you something different altogether eventually.

"Mornin', pet."

It's even more gut-twisting when you catch glimpses of the occasional PDA: A large hand curling around an even bigger jean-clad thigh. Faces so close they could kiss (Waterboarding couldn't get the fact that you've rubbed your thighs together at the thought of them actually kissing out of you) and the fact that Simon's usually sharp gaze softens around the edges, pale gold whispering against the puckered pink of a barely visible scar beneath his face mask.

A couple. They're a couple. It's bittersweet, that feeling settling in your chest. Like dark chocolate coating your tongue. Honeyed nectar of love, the bitter bite of it not being your own.

Maybe it's time to go out with your friends to the bar.

Things take a nasty turn when Simon, out of the both of them, had come in alone and propositioned you on crisp, saturday morning.

Oh, the acid in your stomach felt like it was corroding the walls of your esophagus as it rose. You don't remember much of what you said but it'd been loud, vitriolic. You'd been so furious. Hurt that they had something so sweet, something they could call their own, and here comes this big dumb oaf looking for a piece of warm meat to stick his cock into on the side.

Your manager sent you home for the day.

And home you were headed, well more like the bus stop, stomping away and across the street but the hand that wraps around your arm to keep you in place is John's. (You'd been actually fighting to get away and he hadn't even tightened his grip enough to hurt. embarrassing.)

He clears things up. Tells you to forgive Simon, he's not the most verbose or eloquent with the words he does choose to speak. "He's good at receivin' orders instead of givin' 'em. isn't tha' righ'?"

The "yes, sir" that comes out of Simon is immediate. Obedient. Submissive. (gagging, i actually slammed the desk with my fist rn) A man who knows his place because it is etched in stone. Your teeth grind like rusted gears to keep from turning into a pool of liquid in broad daylight.

"What he meant," he roughly clarifies, "is that we would like you to share our bed." your face burns hot enough to sting. "If you want," John continues, limpid blue eyes fixed on your own.

He looks rather handsome in his uncertainty.

They don't even let you go home to wash and clean up when you nod. (Or shave. Simon had very audibly scoffed at your complaint about that. Said something crass about eating lollipops off the carpet)

The dynamic had been exactly what you'd expected it to be in the bedroom. When authority spoke, Simon listened. Intently. Without hesitation. When John ordered Simon— who'd sat with his broad chest curling around your spine, cocooning you in warmth and the faint scent of smoke, mahogany, and leather— to hook his hands behind your knees and pull your legs up to your shoulders, he'd done so in an instant.

The subtle burn of your hamstrings stretching pulled a hiss from your kiss-swollen lips.

"Bit o' pain with pleasure never hurt anyone, eh, sweetheart?" The deepened rumble of John's voice vibrated in your chest and made your toes curl.

Simon's steady breaths are drowned out by your shuddering ones when John puts his mouth on you, the prickle of his facial hair tickling your sensitive, heated skin.

The burning stretch of your muscles is nothing compared to the sweet sting of two fingers sinking into your hot sex. Pleasure wells in the corner of your eyes when he curls and scissors them while his slick tongue swirls your clit languidly.

He sends you over the edge with practiced ease, shaky limbs, and unsteady mewls. The kiss he plants on your still pulsing cunt is tender, as are your now unrestrained legs.

And he slants his lips-- still dripping slick, dewy beads collecting on his beard-- over Simon's whose mask is now long gone, his erection coming to sit heavy on the fatty mound of your pussy. You can feel the heat of his cock even through his clothes.

A saliva strand connecting them two snaps as he pulls away, glancing down to look at you, sweaty and unkempt, glassy eyes shamelessly staring back.

"I'd let Simon get his turn but," hands weave up your shirt and inside your sports bra while John's grab your legs and wrap them around his thick waist, "gotta prep ya first."

(?)

That comes back to mind after your limbs feel like cold syrup, warmth dribbling from your puffy lips and falling onto the damp bedsheets beneath your arse cheeks.

The question answers itself when Simon slots himself between your aching legs, uncut cock fat and hefty.

(dis)Respectfully, you feel thoroughly used and even now, that doesn't look like it's going to go in easy.

"Easy, love," John's voice comes from above you, "He won't hurt ya. Isn't tha' righ', Simon?"

Simon, who's dark eyes hadn't moved from where John's spend still steadily flowed, cut to him instantly. "Yes, sir."

He hums, a low, raspy sound. "How 'bout you tell our bird tha'?"

A rough hand wraps around your neck, thumb pressed on your fluttering pulse. "I won't hurt ya." His grip tightens, and the swoosh of blood roaring in your ears is deafening.

Much.

The world around you fades, senses attuned only to what's currently wrenching your swollen walls apart, going in, in, and in, it feels never-ending, it's so much, too much, until--

Your stomach clenches, it feels like it's folding in on itself, and a sharp feeling radiates below your navel.

Lips kiss your sweaty temple. "That's all there is. Did so well, eh, sweetheart? Took 'im real good, like you were meant for it."

His cock drags along your over-sensitive, raw nerves in a way that has fire licking up your spine as he pulls back. "Easy, Simon. You'll get your fun from me," John assures.

Your cunt clenches unbidden at that, vise-like around Simon who quietly groans.

The first roll of his hips pushes the air from your lungs, the second blanks your jumbled mind, the third has your nails sinking into whoever's forearms are beside your head, and the fourth has you confusing John's glittering eyes with stars.

And then he places your feet flat on his chest, his weight folding you in half, pinning you in place. Nowhere to run.

Your teeth clack when he thrusts firmly, tip of his cock sitting firmly against the plug of your womb.

"Easy does it, love. Jus' be good 'n take it," John mutters into your ear.

As if you had any choice.

After, when you're completely spent, they tell you to lay back, head propped up by a mountain of pillows, but to keep your legs open, let them see that pretty pussy, they want to see their cum spill out of you.

You thought the fucking Simon gave you had been rough. What John gives him from behind is attempted murder. He grabs at Simon's hair like it's the scruff of a bellicose dog. Pins him in place with his words, growled, thunderous, then his grip. Simon doesn't bare his crooked teeth once.

When your tired hand slithers down to between your legs, tips of your fingers smearing cum around your swollen flesh, arousal surprisingly panging deep in your core, the sheer force of John's thrusts rocks the bed with enough force to crack the wall and Simon whines like a dog in heat.

[luveline]

hi honey, i love you so so much!!

what about stripper!reader with derek morgan?? he's on a case where strippers are being murdered, and while hotch is driving morgan calls you and tells you not to go into work because of what's going on, and emily is listening in on the conversation from the backseat and they tease him

thank youu!! love you!

ty for requesting lovely!! ilysm ♡

"I know you don't like listening to me, but could you do me a favour? Just this once?" 

Emily leans over in her seat so Spencer can see her side eye. "Who's Morgan talking to?" 

"Stay home tonight. No, this isn't a jealousy thing, you vixen–" 

Spencer shrugs. "No idea. But–" 

"But," Emily agrees. They've just left a crime scene with a specific victim, and now Morgan's on the phone asking someone to stay home. That someone would have reason to visit said crime scene's location, and the word vixen suggests female rather than male, which means, "Morgan has a secret stripper girlfriend." 

Spencer's entire face takes his frown, eyebrows pinched, mouth quirked into a telling line. "I like the implausible," he murmurs, "but that feels illogical. Where would they have met?"

"Uh," Emily says, widening her eyes at him. "Where do you think, Spence?" 

"Morgan doesn't need to go to a strip club." 

Emily understands what Spencer's saying. There are lots of reasons that people frequent strip clubs or gentlemen's clubs and none of those reasons apply to Derek. It's possible he could go socially, but it's just so unlike him, it doesn't add up. 

"I'm telling you the truth. I can't give you more detail than that, I just need you to stay home tonight." Derek pauses, laughs. "Alright," —his voice takes on a mechanical rendition, clearly having been fed a line he has to repeat aloud— "I, Derek Morgan, am an ignorant, jealous man, who can't cope with the fact that you don't want me, and am making up sad and childish lies to get you to stay home from your job. Is that what you wanted? Yeah, laugh it up." 

Emily laughs and grabs the headrest as he hangs up on you, pulling herself forward to taunt him as is required. "Care to explain yourself?" 

Derek sighs. "This is why I didn't tell you guys." 

"What!" Spencer says, though his smile is more audible than his incredulity. 

"So you have something to tell us?" Emily asks. 

Derek knows he can't weasel his way out of telling them, and he doesn't really want to. "I don't have a secret stripper girlfriend," he says, rolling his eyes, "she's not my girlfriend. She is an exotic dancer at one of the clubs downtown, and I met her at Home Depot." 

Emily isn't perturbed that Derek heard their gossiping. She's shameless. She doesn't even care that Hotch is frowning behind the wheel. "What was an exotic dancer doing at Home Depot?"

"Weirdly, Emily, she has a home. She wanted help finding renter friendly flooring." 

"Can we meet her?" 

"Never," Derek says with a smile. Emily couldn't know this, but he really likes you. You're sweet, super funny, and yes, you're a stripper. You work hard. Pole dancing is as physically demanding as any manual labour and you're damn good at it. "Ever." 

Spencer interjects the ensuing argument with a statistical analysis of strippers who are homeowners (unfairly few), but Morgan doesn't answer, trying to read a new text from you discretely. 

Sorry if I embarrassed you at work :( is it really not safe to go ?? Maybe u can come and be my bodyguard. I won't even make u tip me 4:10PM

He sends back, Really not safe. Stay home for me, relax for a few days. Call you tonight even if nothing changes 4:11PM

My hero <3 I trust u, but be careful OK ? and pls if it isn't too much trouble can u bring back some of those weird candies again? thank u thank u <3<3<3 4:14PM

Hotch makes a quiet sound of approval, eyes on the road. "The same girl you were with at Docklands? Rossi said she was cute." 

"She is." 

"Rossi met her?" Emily asks. "Oh, you're the worst."

[dilf-docs]

Misery Reigns My Lonely Neon Nights

old man!logan x younger fem!reader

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

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

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

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

So it started something like this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The whole situation is stupid.

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

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

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

That's how it continued.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I could wait for you"

He surprises himself and surprises you too.

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

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

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

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

He smiles unconsciously in relief.

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

But you don't.

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

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

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

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

"Need'a ride?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you really want to do this?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His knuckles grip the steering wheel until they turn white.

"Maybe…" he hesitates, "maybe…"

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

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

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

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

Your face shows surprise and something else.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And this is how it ends.

When you wake up, it's almost dawn.

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

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

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

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

"Good morning" he answers instead.

You rub yoou eyes, settling into the passenger seat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Inside, the abandoned plant is exactly what you expected.

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

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

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

"S'rry for the wait"

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

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

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

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

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

"What do you want us to do?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But maybe he likes pain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I want to see them on you"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“God,” he gasps, “what a mess…”

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

Dependency.

Devotion. Absolute. Sick.

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

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

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

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

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

You're still here.

"Logan" you call again, more firmly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But maybe you are the answer.

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

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

[un-lawliet]

Hellooo hope ur having a good day! Can I request the first years founding out about Y/N being Gojo’s girlfriend and Megumi is not surprised at all LOL they’re literally his parents. <333

(THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST I ADORE THIS TROUPE THANK YOU THANK YOU i hope this is ok :)))) )

“Not So Secret.”

— In which the first years want to find out what is distracting their teacher, and Megumi is fed up.

“This is stupid.”

“Shut up Megumi!”

It was stupid.

It was stupid that Nobara and Yuji were peering through a crack in the door using each-other to balance as they both held awkward positions to see, fixated on catching the conversation that their teacher was having over the phone, in what Itadori coined as the “Secret Mission”.

“This is the fourth time he’s stopped teaching to answer his phone.” Yuji whispers, raising his finger to rest on his chin, his eyebrows scrunched in conviction.

“Exactly!” Nobara adds, whipping her head to look at Megumi eyes narrowed, crossing her arms, “It’s weird.”

They should be training, their weapons left abandoned in the training yard. It was Nobara’s idea to follow the white haired sorcerer, and Yuji had dragged Megumi along, despite his complaints, claiming, with a look of acute determination, that this was far, far more important than any training.

Satoru Gojo was an enigma to even those closest to him, his actions seemingly devoid of a will or want for understanding. His borderline erratic nature is what made this new repeated routine of ditching the first years for a something so benign as a phone call so inanely baffling.

“S’not that weird.” Megumi mumbled, because it wasn’t, because despite his constant affirmation that he was forced into a family with Gojo, he knew the man, and he knew who Gojo was calling.

The way the man’s entire face lit up when he glanced at his ringing phone, how he practically skipped out of the classroom without a second glance to his precious students.

His glee was palpable.

Gojo was on the phone with you…obviously.

“Itadori move I can’t see!”

“Huh? Aren’t we supposed to be listening???”

“Yes! But I can’t hear anything over your stupid breath in my ear, back up!”

“But then how am I gonna hear!?”

They were being way too loud, Gojo could absolutely sense them, even without his six eyes, and Megumi couldn’t understand why their teacher was pretending not to notice.

—“Maybe if you stopped talking we would actually hear something!” Itadori huffed.

“You stop talking!”

“No, I think I’ll talk plenty.”

“Megumi.” Nobara hissed, both her and Yuji now staring at him, “Take this idiot away please.”

“Both of you are being loud y’know?” Megumi deadpanned.

And they both glared at him indignantly.

“Well at least we’re trying!” Itadori frowned, “You’re standing so far back, there’s no way you can hear from there.”

Megumi could easily tell them, at this point he was considering it just to get them to stop this God awful attempt to spy.

But honestly? It was too warm outside to train and Megumi the was not in the mood to sweat today, and with Gojo distracted he could guarantee at least ten more minutes where he could relax.

When he had first moved in with Gojo, he remembers how the man paced around his apartment, practicing ways in which to tell you he’d basically adopted two children, on a random evening without telling you first.

Megumi recalls how Tsumiki had giggled, a sweet smile of her face, and asked if you were his girlfriend to which Gojo began to gush about you.

Your hair, your eyes, the way you laughed at his jokes, Gojo had shared every little detail about you, only freezing when Megumi insisted, “So, she isn’t your girlfriend then?”

“It’s complicated, you wouldn’t get it.” Gojo had glared, hands on his hips as he muttered “Brat” under his breath.

And Megumi held back a grin.

Now, almost ten years later, you had practically become a Mother to Megumi, doting on him and Tsumiki without question.

You were a teacher in Jujitsu Tech, just like Gojo, only you took the second year students under your wing, and you adored teaching them.

Every mission you came back from, you came with pretty bows to match Tsumikis hair, and when Megumi started using his technique you were his biggest cheerleader, bringing his demon dogs treats, and patting his head with shiny eyes, weeping about how proud you were of him.

And at some point the white haired idiot managed to finally grasp your affections, Megumi doesn’t know how or when but he does remember over hearing Gojos obnoxious laugh after he kissed you when he assumed nobody else was home.

Brazenly declaring his love for you in which you bashfully reciprocated, leaning into him with a giggle.

“You’re laughing.” Gojo had said, “I told you a joke and you’re laughing, I love you.”

And Megumi ignored how he had to hold back a smile, refusing to acknowledge the warm feeling of family that resonated in his chest.

He was good at playing oblivious.

“How is someone so loud so hard to hear?!” Nobara was back to pressing her ear against the door, ignoring the two boys. “I mean seriously it’s like he’s not even there!”

He probably wasn’t, Megumi thinks, Gojo likes to mess with people, he would never give up this opportunity to tease his students.

Nobara was facing them again, her eyes crinkled with mischief, before she’s gesturing to Yuji.

“Itadori, come here.”

“What? Didn’t you just say to back up?”

…

“Come here.”

“Ok.”

Megumi watched, amused as Yuji made his way back to her, oblivious to the devilish look in her eye.

“Now what? I can’t hear anything either you know, so what do you-”

Itadori yelped as Nobara pushed him through the door, a charming “Of you go!” on her lips.

Both she and Megumi jumped to each side of the door, shielding themselves from the eyes of anyone who was in the room as Itadori groaned.

“The hell Kugisaki? You could have just asked me to go in, I would have done it!” He pouted, rubbing his head.

Nobara rolled her eyes, “Is he there you idiot?”

“Is who- Wait huh???”

Nobara moved to look into the room, trailing Megumi behind her, curiosity getting the better of her.

The room was empty, a door leading to the back of the school hanging open, Itadori stood, his mouth open as he pointed furiously.

“Is that Y/N?” He gasped, his eyes shining with disbelief.

And Nobara glanced over, her eyes widening as she watched you kiss Gojo on the cheek, the pair of you holding hands as Gojo ate an ice cream that you must have brought back with you.

���Y/N and Gojo? Gojo and Y/N?” Nobara and Yuji were speechless.

“Megumi look, look!” Itadori grabbed Megumis shoulder and yet again, Megumi found himself being dragged against his will.

Gojo was looking at you, a ridiculous smile painting his features, as you fussed over him, readjusting his blindfold, so you could see his pretty eyes.

“There you are.” You sighed, your voice light as he winked at you.

“How was the mission hm? You’re back early.” Gojo mused, a hand reaching up to pinch your cheek, pulling it slightly, “Someone’s getting stronger.”

“Would you rather I stayed away longer?” You teased, swatting his hand away.

“Nah, how would I get ice cream during a hard days work without you.” And you gasped, your eyes flitting over his face.

“I completely forgot! You’re teaching I’m sorry oh my God-”

You’re cut off by his laughter, leaning down to whisper cheekily in your ear, “Look behind you baby.”

And you did, your eyes widening as you see Gojo’s first year class poorly hiding, observing the pair of you.

“Ah.” You sighed, then your eyes widened “Wait Gumi’s there too?”

Gojo pulled you back to look at him, nodding “He’s really opening up huh? I knew he would~”

You nod, opening your mouth to reply, before you were suddenly interrupted by Nobara and Itadori’s horrified exclamation;

“YOU KNEW??”

And as you heard Megumi’s groan, trying to silence his stupid friends, you and Gojo both laughed, leaning into each other, enjoying the company.

the end.

masterlist here <3

(A/N : i love writing nobara, she’s lit my fave character after Gojo i think- BUT also i love hana i hate that people hate her because she’s a “nobara replacement” she ISNT leave her alone!!!)

ANYWAY THANK U FOR THE REQUEST I HOPE THIS IS WAS OK :))

[joeys-babe]

Joey B Blurbs: The Real MVP

————————————————————————-

Summary: Flashforward. Joe wins MVP after an amazing comeback in the ‘24-25 season. In his speech, he has to thank the person who supports him like no other, the real MVP.

Warnings: Fluff

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine universe: Into The Mystic

————————————————————————-

*NFL Honors for ‘24-’25 season*

After a hectic day of running the household alone, I settled on the couch with Tyson and Miles to watch the NFL Honors ceremony.

Joe had his name in the MVP running, and I couldn't be more proud of him.

Last season was less than stellar, with his calf strain causing him to miss camp and his season-ending injury serving unfinished business on a silver platter.

This season he showed the world who the fuck Joe Burrow was.

Not that he felt the need to, but Joe showed NFL viewers that he was worth every penny of his contract extension.

Throughout the ceremony, Tyson and Miles were scanning the audience for their Dad. They'd “helped” Joe pick out his outfit just a few days ago and were so excited to see him in it.

When it got to the MVP category, I held my breath and closed my eyes.

And the 2024 Most Valuable Player is…

My heart was beating out of my chest.

Joe Burrow!

Tyson and Miles stood up on the couch and started jumping up and down, and for once, I didn't get onto them about it.

“Daddy won!” - Tyson

“Daddy won!” - you repeated

My heart soared when Joe walked to the stage, feeling slightly nostalgic when I got deja vu about when he won the Heisman in college.

Joe started his speech by thanking his coaches, coordinators, and trainers before he began tearing up thanking his family.

My eyes matched Joe’s misty ones, just like they did at the Heisman years ago.

“But- I uhm need to thank the real MVP.” - Joe

When Joe said those words, I shook my head, thinking he was going to mention Kid Cudi or Spongebob.

“She wasn't able to be here tonight because she's too busy in Cincinnati being the best mom ever, but I would like to mention my wife. Thank you for always being my biggest cheerleader, y/n. You've been one of my biggest support systems since I was a scrawny senior in high school. I will always be grateful for everything you’ve done and continue to do that has made me the man and player that I am today. I'll admit, I was super nervous for tonight, and I called y/n in the bathroom. Her voice alone calmed me down, but the words gave me enough confidence to leave my hiding spot in the bathroom stall. Thank you for being my best friend, y/n. I love you more than life.” - Joe

Tears streamed down my face as I listened to his sweet words.

“Oh, and thanks for this award. Who Dey!” - Joe

With that, Joe left the stage and walked back to his seat, more in love than ever.

He'd never felt so happy.

When I heard my phone ding, I thought it would be Robin to point out Joe’s sweet words, but instead, it was Mr. MVP himself.

Did you watch my speech? :)

Yes. Currently crying. I love you so much, Mr. MVP.

I'll only be Mr. MVP if you'll be Mrs. MVP.

I��m not a player, though. 🤨

His next text gave me butterflies, it amazes me that his effect on me hasn't changed even after all of our years together.

Most valuable person, baby. 😁

————————————————————————-

Authors note: short as heck but whatever

Request for this fic;

Hope you enjoyed!

[starillusion13]

119: I like it like that

Pairing: NCT dream x f!reader

Genre: Mature, Smut, Mafia

W/c: 8k

Warnings: mention of drinking, hints of filming, use of sex toys, sex w/o a wrap(don't do it sillies), they all are just horny for each other, mean dom!nctdream, sub!fem, cum eating, hickeys, manhandling, fingering, kissing, crying, orgasm denial, edging,hand job, hints of voyeurism & exhibition, overstimulation, public sex, car sex, comfort, lots of love (let me know what to add more)

Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Note: please I want to thanks to people for reading and reblogging. Reviews are always appreciated . Applause to the ones who come up to me to interact and they know how friendly I am. Okay enough!

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT UNDER THE POST!

"Don't make a sound and don't even let others know about this. Alright?"

"But-"

"Are you really questioning me now?" he said and raised an eyebrow.

You shook your head and wide eyes staring at him. You didn't still able to place the pieces that he made you wear the panty with the most favorite vibrator of his choice and asked you to go along with him to the business party wearing a revealing slit dress. You always loved these thrilling experiences and for a lot of times, you had raised the topic of being used in front of others but everything should happen oblivion to others.

Your heels clicked on the shining marbled floor and the man standing at a distance watching you hungrily with a very familiar dirty smirk plastered on his face. Oh, he was enjoying it too much!

It was one of the fantasies coming true after all!

As soon as you reached near him, he grabbed your wrist and brought your knuckles to his lips, he inhaled the scent from your wrist and closed his eyes, "sweet as always." His nose brushed against your warm skin, his warm breath alone making you weak and his lips just a thin line away from your skin, "you will be good for us tonight, okay baby?"

He repeated and locked his gaze with yours, "okay? I want answers. And that should be a positive one."

You hesitantly nodded and he chuckled. He placed a soft kiss on your knuckles and entangled his fingers with yours before pulling you towards his side, "you are already being a bad girl, baby. And this has been added to your list. Keep in your mind to use your words to reply or later your every word will be deaf to my ears and I don't know about them."

"Yes, Mark......and where are the rest?" you asked him when he was guiding you towards the car in the garage.

"They have been already at the party, don't want to make them wait more. Right, baby?" he asked you while opening the door to the passenger seat for you.

"No. Let's go there before people start asking them about us." You entered and he pressed a kiss to the side of your head and closed the door.

Your eyes followed his movements how he checked a message in his phone then he looked at you through the glass, standing in front of the car and smirked. With slow steps, he entered the driver's seat and whistled when he set his hairs in the rear mirror.

Your gulped and your throat became dry watching him looking so perfect in black leather jacket and a denim bottom. His black hairs looking exactly the perfect match to the outfit and he seems like the center of attention of the party.

You licked your lips and he noticed it. He chuckled seeing you so horrified with the things that were going to happen.

"Are you scared? Or are you excited?" he asked with locking your eyes in the mirror.

You gulped and replied, "Both."

"That's a good girl. You are looking so expensive today. But I'm really disappointed that you didn't listen to our warnings and rules for the last two months, when we were not here. You hurt my trusts on you. And today you are going to repay it. Are you going to beg for the forgiveness?"

His words making you clench around nothing. You felt a wave of shame all over yourself for his words could have such an impact on you. You licked your lips and nodded before you looked up to him to your side. He was focusing on the position to take a back turn to get on the road.

"but I was missing you all. You all were gone for so long and I couldn't help but-"

"but to use all the toys that Jeno was hiding in his room. You entered all of our rooms and fucked yourself like a Wolfie in heat when we were out there busy and stressed out with our life and business."

He didn't turn towards you but his dark eyes were focusing on the road ahead. You sinked into your seat and looked outside the window. He glanced to your direction and smiled.

"you trust me, y/n? You trust us, right?" he asked you in a low voice.

"Yes. I trust you all more than everything."

.

.

.

Reaching to the grand gate of the 'The Park Hotel', your stomach twisted in the anticipation of the night ahead. You kept staring at the name which was shining in the dark surrounding. Mark opened the door to your side and offered you his hand, "here, my princess. The one who needs to be punished."

Your shaky hands got in contact with his strong grip and both of you walked towards the entrance.

You have been to such places a lot of times. Basically, any sort of meetings with them means to be you all in such a grand and lavish place but this day was different. Lot more exciting and surprising.

"Oh, finally my dear y/n is here." Jaemin's cheerful voice broke your gaze onto Mark's side profile and moved to the man who was approaching towards you. Mark left your hand before placing a kiss to let you hug Jaemin. You gladly accepted the hug and you realized that how much you have misses them.

"I missed you, Jaemin."

"I missed you too, baby. Were you fine by your own? Was everything too much or you were just having fun?"

"I...I felt lonely. Really, without even one of you. It was pretty much too much for me." you pout in the end.

He patted your head and turned towards Mark and signalled something before both of them smirked at you. You whispered to Mark, "does they know about my situation?"

Jaemin chimed in, "what situation?"

You didn't expect him to hear you but you just shook your head when Mark spoke up, "I don't know what she is talking about, Jaemin. As far as I can see she is in good situation."

Jaemin nodded, "you are looking perfect baby. I like it like that." and took a hold of your hand and kissed the exact same spot where still Mark's kiss from earlier was lingering. He guided you to the table where others were and Mark trailed behind you both.

As soon as you reached the table, they stared at you darkly. All their stares which were very unreadable but were filled with hungry intentions. You flashed a smile towards them. Your throat felt too dry to see them all in one place looking extra perfect. You last saw them in sleepy mood when they left for two months in the middle of the night.

Renjun was the first one to break his strong look into a smile, it was more of a smirk and he walked towards your figure wrapped in a red dress. He bent down to peck your lips catching you off guard,

"you know why you are told to wear the red dress?" he asked you.

You glanced towards Jisung and he raised a eyebrow. You turned back to the man in front and shook your head, "No."

You had only been told that the dress was bought by Jisung and you needed to wear it at the party.

"Aw...so sweet. Didn't know you are so naïve...you are looking so beautiful, exactly how we want to show you off to others." His hands took a hold of your hand and his fingers caressed yours. The fingers trailed up to your forearm and continued to caress the exposed collar bone and neck and rested on your cheek. He smirked before pecking you again.

Jisung left his place and stood beside you two, "I knew the dress would look best on her. This dress was really meant to wear by her. I'm impressed. You are looking like a princess." He leaned to whisper into your ears, "The one that needs to be punished soon." Before retreating himself, he planted a kiss on your ear lobe and on your cheek.

Mark and Jaemin already took their place around the table. Renjun also went back to his chair when Jisung pulled him back to the table. You could feel a piercing gaze on you and when you turned towards the direction from where it felt like was coming, you caught Chenle's eyes. He was watching you like a predator. He was having a wine glass in his hand and a cherry in other hand.

He slowly walked towards you and noticed how your eyes locked to the cherry. He stopped in front of you and raised the cherry. He eyed it intensely and looked towards you. You gulped and held his gaze.

"you are like the cherry on top of the party. You deserve this. Open your mouth." His words so sweet but the tone dipped in venom. A perfect sweet venom.

You obeyed his commands and did what he said. He slowly brought the cherry closer to your lips, almost touching your lower lips and asked, "Do you want it?" without wasting your time, you said, "yes."

He smirked and placed the cherry inside and closing your mouth shut with his hand. He sipped to his drink watching you eating the cherry. He waited for you to throw the seed. All their gazes were fixed on you. He offered a napkin to you. You threw the seed and he brought the wine glass from his lips to yours. "Drink."

You raised your hands to hold the glass. "did I say for you to hold it?" he gripped your jaw and made you drink the little bit of it.

He pecked your now sealed lips. He groaned in satisfaction into the kiss, "Perfect."

Jaemin leaned back into his chair, "Wow. Sexy. That was really hot."

Renjun nodded in compliance and Jisung nodded beside him.

Haechan broke the tensed atmosphere with his groan. "now come here baby and sit down. This table was looking so lonely without the cherry."

Jisung snickered hearing the comment.

You nodded but as soon as you took a step. You gasped and turned towards Mark. He was sipping his drink and staring at you. "what?"

"Mark..."

"Are you going to sit down or not?" Jeno's voice was dark and stern.

"yes." Your shaky legs due to the vibrator in your core led you to the seat between Jeno and Haechan.

You sat in your place and flashed smile towards Haechan, who was on your right.

He chuckled before leaning to you to whisper, "I will see how long this smile will last, sweetheart. This dress is really making you everyone's eye candy. But it's not good for you if people stare at you with hungry eyes."

"But that's not my fault. That's the fault of this dress." Your voice was pressed and broken due to the tingling sensation between your legs. You made a fist above your thigh. Your nails digging into the flesh of your palm.

Haechan unfolded your fist and entangled your fingers with his, "mine. I don't want these soft hands to get bruised now. These are so precious for so many things."

You felt a cold hand placed on your left thigh which was bare due to the starting of the slit of the long dress from top of the thigh. You followed the veiny hands of the man with Black leather jacket similar to Mark but a bit of different designs and patterns all over it.

Your eyes locked with the dark ones of Jeno. His stares were enough to make you cum untouched. Without processing your words, your lips parted to flow out some words, "please Jeno." You can't ever resist the urge to beg to this man. He poked the inside of his cheek and glared at you.

"Behave, Y/n. This is the last warning for tonight."

You pressed your lips tight and clutched your hands in Haechan's hold. Breaking the eye contact with Jeno, you looked at Mark with begging eyes.

"What happened?" He asked you with a smile. You gulped and attempted to speak but the vibrator was now set up to next level. The sudden increase in speed and their eyes on you making you clench around that tiny device and your both hands gripping the two man besides you. One who was already enjoying your tight clutches in his hold and another who had his palm above your thigh and your fingers holding his wrist tight for the dear life.

You closed your eyes tight and lowered your head. Feet curling under the table.

"Look at me." You didn't know who said those words rather your mind didn't register if something was said to you. You were focusing on suppressing your needs between your legs.

"Y/n. I said look at me." Renjun's  stern voice made you look up to look at the man across from you. He was glaring at you.

"What happened? Why are you looking down? All the people are watching us." He raised his eyebrows and you shook your head in reply. He scoffed, "then try to behave. Don't act like this in the very beginning."

You were trying to overcome the tensed muscled. Your legs pressed tight and hands in contact with the two beside you on each side.

You averted your eyes to the approaching man towards the table when Renjun spoke up again, "did I tell you to look away?"

"But...I was just..."

"What did I say before coming here? Don't make a sound and be a good girl. Where are your manners, y/n?" Mark asked you in a daring way.

You whispered, "I'm sorry."

"Oh isn't this the dream unit. I'm so glad that you all attended the party. Say my greetings to Taeyong." The man in all white suit greeted them but Renjun still kept an eye contact with you.

Mark scoffed, "when the unit leader is here and you haven't greet properly to him. I won't be giving him your greetings."

The man laughed off the awkward moment and looked at you, "oh a beautiful lady with you all. Who is she?"

Jeno's fingers curled into a fist.

He extended his hand to greet you, "nice to meet you. This is Mr. Lee Sooman."

You broke the eye contact with Renjun and turned towards the man and stood up with a smile. Your jaw clenched due to the shift and the movement made the vibrations in a new position. You could feel their stares and when you shook the hand and introduced yourself, the vibrator was set to another level up.

You breathed out a groan and quickly retreated your hand from the man's grip. You fell back into your seat.

The concerned man asked you, "hey miss! Are you okay."

You couldn't hear anything but just looked down to disappear from his eyes.

Haechan faked smiled towards the man and stated, "I will appreciate if you just leave the personal space. She is our concern and you are not invited here to know about it. You can go and entertain your other guests."

The man pressed his lips in a smile and turned towards the another table.

"And y/n. Why are you acting weird? Can't you behave?" "Hae-Haechan...too too much."

"What's too much? Nothing is too much for you. Just know we are not leaving here until dinner. You are free to have your time."

"What!"

"What's wrong with that? Whatever he is telling is right. We are here for a dinner party and how will it seem to leave the party before dinner." Chenle said and sipped his wine.

Jisung added, "we will have more time to play here."

You had again pressed your legs tight and hands clutching your dress above your knees. Haechan smirked and picked up his wine glass and whispered something to Mark. The latter laughed and shook his head. 

"Y/n, I don't like to repeat but you have to look up and act normal. I don't know why you are behaving like this." You could hear Renjun's annoyed statement but you didn't look up. you shook your head and sinked into the seat.

"didn't you hear him? Do you want to get punished...more?" Chenle said and smirked similarly like Renjun beside him.

you licked your lips and tried to form some words but only whimpers and low moans escaped your mouth.

"Don't lick your lips so much. Don't want the lipstick to fade. Do we?" he paused and repeated, "Do we?" 

"N-no...Jisung."

"that's a good girl there." He smiled.

"M-mark...please...I-I..."

Jeno tapped your thighs and made you look at him. you were avoiding his eyes and focusing on anything other than any of them.he gripped your jaw and placed a cherry in your mouth

 the buzzing between your legs, the bundle of nerves coiled inside your lower stomach and their intense gazes on you was making it difficult for you to control. There were other guests who were glancing at you all, whenever your eyes were falling on them, you gave them your professional smile.

"What is it, baby? I can't hear you. do you need something? can I help you?" Mark's concerning voice earned chuckles from others around the table. he was not concerned, he was enjoying and mocking at you.

"C-can I...Can I please-"

"No." Renjun cut you off.

your wide and confused eyes glanced him and back to Mark who was smirking. you attempted to speak but Mark beat you off.

"you heard what he said...be it like that."

"w-what no...please..."

"what are you even begging for, y/n?" Jisung rested his head on his palm, elbow pressed to the table and gazing intently at you.

you stared at Mark and he looked away.

"he is not even talking to you. I'm asking you something so you better reply me before you get on my nerves." Jisung scoffed in the end of his statement.

"I.." you were visibly panting, your knuckles turned white for the pressure you were balling your fist. "I...It's too much...please...please...I can't hold it anymore...please..."

chenle laughed and asked you, "what you can't hold anymore? you are not even holding your wine glass. are you gonna..." he raised his eyebrows and didn't complete the sentence but sipped his drink, holding his gaze with your shaky orbs.

"please...M-Mark...please..."

you were using your whole energy not to come without his permission but he was just reluctantly joking with Chenle and Haechan. you didn't even know from where he was operating his remote. both of his hands were on the table. in one hand, he was checking his phone often and with other hand he was eating the pastries, different fruits or drinking his wine. 

where is the remote?

"what are you asking for?" he asked you with amusement filled eyes.

"fuck-"your whispered curse turned into silent whines when suddenly the vibrator got turned off.

Jaemin smiled and brought your attention towards him, "why were you cursing? didn't Mark tell you not to make any sound?"

"please...Jaemin..."

"What? now you are asking me? I can't help you with anything." he smirked and leaned back, placing his hand behind his head.

Jeno grabbed your neck and pulled you towards him with a smile. if anyone watching the scene would find it romantic and think he is teasing you and flirting with you. but in reality, he brought your face closer to his and eyes scanned your face with touch up of glittery eyeshadows and blush but a look of frustration visible on top of it. the frustration of denial.

"pathetic. you never miss a chance to take away my breath." he groaned in the end.

A hand ran down your spines, sending chills to your body and the owner of the hand whispered into your ears, "did you want to come before?"

You hastily turned towards your other side with shocked eyes to see Haechan faking an innocent look towards you. "why?"

"why? I didn't do anything. Do you think I could do such a thing?" he said it out loud so that others could listen to him and then he again leaned to your ears, "I would have done worse."

his hands were still resting on your bare back and and the other man’s hand on your thighs from earlier returned. both of them drawing patterns on your burning skin, making you squirm in your place.

"what happened? are you excited for something?" you shook your head to Chenle's comment.

you took deep breathes but they came out as shaky due to both of them on your either side sliding their hands over your bare skin. 

Chenle clanked his glass with a spoon to gain your attention, few people nearby your table turned their heads towards you all and you felt embarrassed but still managed to send a tight smile. few recognized that the dream unit was sitting near them, bowed towards them in greetings. you took a napkin and dabbed it on your face to wipe off the sweat lining and sipped the wine.  

"where is the remote?" you asked in a challenging way towards Mark.

"woah...somebody is acting too strong now." Jisung said and laughed.

"and that was not the smart move." Jeno's voice was low and heavy beside you.

the same vibrator turned on again but this time it was already set on a higher level. you groaned and almost moaned out but quickly looked around to see if anyone heard you or not. there was horror in your eyes and you didn't know if you would be allowed to come this time but still there was a desperation in your body. their hot touch, their eyes on you and their teasing voices were not helping you to distract yourself from the wet pool between your legs. similarly, like before you pressed your legs tight and hands balled above your thighs and jaw clenched to restrict any sort of noise to escape your throat. 

"let's make it a little bit more fun. what do you say guys?"

"and what you want, Haechan?" Jaemin asked while looking up from the phone. he was recording your expressions when the set up increased by a level. Haechan hummed beside you as if he was in a deep thought but someone's voice made you look at him.

"put your hands on the table." Renjun commanded you but your movements were too slow for the patience of the man beside you. Jeno grabbed your hands and put them on them table, planting a kiss on the fingers and delicately placed them on the table and whispered, "these hands are mine because you are mine."

the dark voice and the authority in his voice pushed you to clench again and the feelings of the coiling of the knots from earlier started to return back. you curled your fingers only to get a light hit from Haechan.

"act normal. don't make a fist......um...drink the wine and also the pastry." Jisung smirked on ending his orders.

"W-what? I c-cant...no no."

"did you just say no to me?" he poked his inner cheek with tongue and placed a toothpick between his teeth.

you took a bite of the pastry. it was your favorite one and most delicious one but this moment you were in nowhere to appreciate the food. your shaky hands raised your glass in your grip and Haechan clanked his glass with yours, sending you a wink before sipping into it.

"she is doing much more than only clenching her fist. open your legs."

you shook your head to Jaemin's command.

"y/n...Open. Your. Legs." Jaemin was having literal fire in his eyes and if he ever acts this way means he was not in the mood of entertaining anything at the moment.

you had to obey his orders. you broke their rules and now you had to face the consequences. you had no other option than to do what he said. you slowly parted your thighs only for the vibrator to get shift a bit and you gasped out loud but thankfully no one noticed it except the boys surrounding you.

"you are looking pathetic at this point but still...I'm addicted seeing you like this."

Haechan will say everything just to push you towards the climax and you were trying your best to act deaf to his words.

"If we didn't have brought you here then think about us, we would have been bored so much. unlike you who would have taken the situation to her advantage." Mark stated and rolled his eyes.

Chenle nodded, "that's true. someone really doesn't care how good I fuck her. how I own her but in the end only disappointing me."

Jeno tsked beside you and added, "I need to get it in her head tonight that who is the one in control. Sometimes she tends to forget everything and I should take the honor to remind her place and who owns her."

He leaned to your ears and his hand on your thigh gripped the flesh tightly, leaving red hand marks and other hand on your bare back, a finger tracing the spinal cord. His breaths hitting your earlobe and the vibration reaching to your core, "close your eyes baby. I said close means you will close it at the instance."

you did as he told you. rest of their eyes following you two. Thankfully, your table was in the end corner and not so crowded there. of course, no one would dare to come across NCT's table. even if they are the dream unit, the two wild brothers of Taeyong are on this table so there was still a fear of the aggressiveness of the gang. 

"Imagine you are sitting on my lap on this chair. my hard dick buried deep inside. pumping into you and ripping you into two parts. your teary eyes and bouncy tits." he groaned into your ears and his hand on your thigh trailed upward, near to your vibrating zone, tracing the bikini line over the dress. "think the way i would have fucked you so nice and full unlike this tiny device. you begging me to dont stop-"

"please...dont stop..."

he chuckled and continued, "cut my words again and am going to bend you down over this table and fuck you insane."

the thought of him fucking your brains out made you squirm in your place.

Renjun chuckled, "someone is excited too much."

Jeno hummed into your ears, "are you near? Is that tiny one giving you the pleasure like I give you?"

"n-no"

"Is it filling you full?"

"n-no"

"open your eyes."

you quickly did because you were reaching your climax soon and he was keeping you on the edge. you didnt want to cause anything more trouble to them to deny your orgasm again.

"will you be satisfied with it...in place of me?"

"No!"

your protest was a broken and muffled cry. he placed a small piece of pastry inside your mouth. he wiped the cream from the corner of your mouth and licked his finger. the device was again got turned off by them and you were denied the second orgasm of the night.

you were breathing heavily and panting while gulping the pastry. Jisung offered you a glass of water. "are you okay?"

you shook your head and gulped down the water.

"why? what happened?" Chenle's concerned voice.

your teary eyes locked with his, "please...why...why...I...need to go to washroom."

"do you think we are stupid?" Renjun almost laughed in the end of the statement.

"No...I need to use it....really."

"Okay. I will go with her." Jisung stood up quickly to guide you to the exact direction. you glanced a nervous look towards your table when Jaemin winked at you. He mouthed you to smile and you smiled while making your way away from the table. you both came across a lot of known people and you were happy to meet them after a long time. you mentally thanked that they haven't turned on the device this time and you didn't have to embarrass yourself.

you definitely didn't took much time inside the stall because you didn't have a choice but as soon as you exited it, you came face to face with Jisung leaning against the marble counter and whistling at you.

"isn't this my pretty baby looking so delicious in the red dress."

"Thanks for the dress, Ji." 

he nodded and you went beside him to wash your hands. he back hugged you and locked his eyes with yours in the mirror.

"I just want to rip this dress off from you. but I can wait for the night. maybe the dress is expensive enough to tear off but I don't even care about that, " he turned you around and pressed himself closer to you, his fingers traced your face, "but I care to break you down under me. my baby. you are the most expensive thing in my life."

"you hate me?"

he laughed, "why will I hate you? because you broke that rule? Silly, breaking that rule doesn't even matter because in the end I will get you for myself. But we are having a little fun here today. I love you, Y/n. Are you not enjoying?"

"I love you too, Jisung...but this is too much for me...People might be watching us and they might find it weird."

"really doesn't matter. let them think whatever they want to. you only have to focus on us."

"I missed you so much." you said and hugged him.

he returned the hug and patted your back, "me too baby."

you both heard a knock and he groaned. he ignored it and kissed you but it was just a peck, his lips trailed down to your jaw and neck. he inhaled your perfume and groaned in satisfaction, one hand pumped your clothed breast and bit you soft on the soft skin at your sweet spots and you moaned out his name. he smiled and returned back to peck you again.

Hearing some repeating knocks after ignoring some before, he took a hold of your hand and you checked yourself in the mirror for any marks left behind before he unlocked the door.

the woman standing there gave you weird look and Jisung noticed it.

"Listen here 'who-is-giving-looks', before you judge anything about my wife. you need to know who's wife she is and who she is. she is too precious to receive looks from you so take that eyes down or somewhere else. I dont want those dirty eyes on her."

the woman apologized and entered the washroom. you both walked towards the table.

"you didn't have to say her like that."

"she deserved it. why will she give you a disgusting look? you are perfect. she is nowhere like you." Jisung pulled you towards the table.

"took long enough. did you guys have your little fun or what?" Chenle wiggled his brows. Jisung shook his head while taking his seat and you sat in your exact place between the ones, who were too excited to get you back for their torture.

"maybe I could have but the interruption had ruined it all."

"awe poor jisungie."

He glared at Chenle.

"but I can have my own fun later. i want myself to take that dress off from her."

"You looked like the center of the party when you walked across the room just now. I must say the choice for the red dress was perfect." Renjun said and gave you smile.

"Thanks, Renjun."

He nodded and then the servants served you the dinners. you heard the others talking to Jisung that they met some of the guests while you were gone. 

there were a lot variety of dinners and you were really not hungry because of the frustration in your stomach. you eyed the foods and Jaemin noticed your disinterested face.

"I don't want to hear that you won't be eating anything. you have a habit of skipping meals often and today you can't do this in front of me atleast."

your protest was shut by his glare.

Jeno placed some foods in your plate as he knows the things you love and not. of course, all of them are aware of this.

"you all are looking handsome." your sudden compliment made them pause. some smirked and some smiled at you. 

"I know I'm looking too good because earlier the way you were boring hole to myside while driving. I thought you would launch at me and I will have to fuck you in the way here."

"Yah! Mark. don't say like this when we are eating." he laughed at your whining voice.

Jeno patted your head and urged you to continue eating.

you still had the doubt, 'who has the remote?'

When you all finished the eating, there was an announcement for a thirty minutes late night show. you all chatted for a while at your table and it was just a normal conversation among you all. many other known faces from earlier greeted you all and had conversations with you all.

.

.

.

you were resting your head on Haechan's shoulder and Jeno was playing with your fingers when Haechan whispered, "when the lights will turn off, you will show me the magical work of your hands."

you looked around the table to see no one was paying attention to what he was saying, "what? no Haechan. there people around us. this is not good."

"oh baby! trust me no one will catch us in the dark. if you don't do what i say then you will get more punishments."

you gulped and nodded. 

you extended your hand to take the wine glass but it slipped from your hand and you gasped, earning chuckles from around the table. thankfully, the glass didn't have much wine but enough to make a mess around the glass. Jeno quickly wiped the liquid before it could roll to anywhere.

"shit! someone is making a mess." Mark mocked at you. you watched how Jaemin was again recording you in his phone like before.

you pressed Jeno's hand for the vibrator was on the highest level. you didn't think you would last long enough this time. as on the cut, the lights got turned off. everybody cheered and suddenly you felt Jeno's fingers hovering over your heat, just above the vibrator.

"please...please...Jeno...please..."

"I really can't hear you right now, the show will begin just now so focus on it."

"what no- Jeno-"

Haechan held your hand and guided it to just above the tent in his pant.

"you feel this. this is because of you so let the show begin." he quickly opened the button of his jeans and freed his painfully red  length. he was in an awkward posture, if the lights suddenly gets turned on, he might could get caught but he really didnt care about that and brought your hands to the tip of it.

"Ah fuck- y/n...your little touch makes me want you so bad. gonna fuck you so bad."

"hae...haechan...I can't do it." you shakily whispered.

"hush love. you can even if your orgasm is keeping you on hook. you need to keep quiet for me and do it." haechan wrapped your fingers around his member and moved it up and down in slow movements. he threw his head back and inhaled sharply.

"keep  going."

"but-"

"keep quiet and start moving your hand. make me cum before the show ends."

your stomach twisted, you literally forgot your other hand holding Jeno's wrist. he pressed his palm over the device and pressed it, earning a loud moan from you. the music from the show was loud enough to silent your moans.

"Jeno...no...no...too much."

"is it?" he pressed it more and started circling it around the area. "and now?"

you nodded and your other hand jerking off Haechan's length. he was leaning on your shoulders and cursing in your earss, sending jolt to your core where the other was torturing you. You were about to shout to see Jaemin under the table between your legs and pulling off the table cover, smiling at you but jeno was quick to shut you up.

"hello princess. I am hungry for my dessert after the dinner. you will give me what I want, right?"

you nodded but didn't know what you actually agreed to. The man under the table smirked that his brother was torturing your clit with the pressure and when his gaze followed your hand, he chuckled. 

"oh I see, here someone is having their little fun. that's not fair." 

haechan rolled his eyes, "you can do ah- whatever you like. I won't complain b-but let me  have my fun. fuck- y/n keep going like that."

"oh brother trust me. I am here for it."

Jaemin pushed your dress up, enough to get a free access to your clit and watched the vibrator doing its job. Jeno's hand trailed up to message your breasts and kiss your shoulders and nape. he didn't only kiss but also bit some areas.

"J-jeno"

"Hush...keep quiet..."

Jaemin asked Jeno and Haechan to hold your legs apart and he pushed your panty aside. he took off the vibrator and pressed it on a new place which made you gasped. you locked your eyes with Mark in the dark. he smirked at you before turning away.

Jaemin inserted a finger inside you and you literally cried out. the show would have stopped if Haechan was not quick enough to shut your mouth. you silently cried and sobbed in their hold. Jaemin inserted one more finger and you moaned into the palm placed over your mouth.

"I...am gonna cum...cum...please" your pleads were muffled and you lost the rhythm to Haechan. he gripped your hand tight and guided you. he was near and so were you. he forced your hand to go faster and soon he let out a deep groan into your ears and came undone.

"fuck...that was so good." 

And at the same time Jaemin attached his mouth to your core, making you squirm in your place. his tongue was flat to your core at first and then he played with your bud and sucking it off. his fingers, mouth and vibrator was making your mind go blank and you were blabbering nonsense.

 Jeno bit on your shoulder and kissed away the pain and then asked you, "are you near? Is Jaemin making you feel good?"

"Yes..yes Jeno...Jaemin is making me feel too good." your hands grip Jaemin's hair and his groan vibrated in your core and tears falling from your eyes. "please...please...let me cum...please..."

Haechan chimed in, "I think the princess needs a reward for keeping quiet enough." he had again tucked his shirt and put on the pant properly.

Jaemin smiled into your core, "Go ahead, princess. give me my sweet delicious dessert." his hands left red marks in your inner thighs and you were sure the other two's hands were also tight enough to leave marks.

as soon as you got the permission, you came. You saw white and threw your head back earning a kiss from Jeno on your head, it felt as if Jaemin sucked out your soul from the core. he licked off all the juices and removed the vibrator. his tongue still on you was overstimulating you and you bit your lips.

you looked down to catch Jaemin's eyes. He smiled at you, "I like it like that."

"My god we are twisted. you don't know what are the things we feel to do with you whenever we see you." Jeno nearly breathed out the words. he was having a tent in his pant and when your hands move to touch him, he held them in place and shook his head. 

Jaemin returned to his place and Haechan pulled down your dress and dry off your sweat with tissues. 

the light turned on and everybody clapped. you clapped slowly without even knowing what had happened during the show. but as soon as you turned your head, you caught Renjun's dark and sharp eyes.

everybody stood up and he walked towards you, extending his hand to make you stand. you all said your goodbyes and walked over to the cars.

Chenle and Jisung chose Jeno's car and Jaemin tagged along. that's leaving you with Renjun and Haechan to get into Mark's car.

Haechan sat in the passenger seat. he was too excited to get back home and Mark chuckled seeing him while he entered inside the driver's seat.

Renjun sat with you in the backseat.

as soon as the doors were closed and engine started. Renjun pulled you over his lap.

You yelped in surprise and he showed you a very familiar device in his hold. You didn’t expect that the remote was with him all along this time.

"you had fun with those three. now you will give me one right?" Renjun asked you and traced the hickey marks left by Jeno. you previously had covered them with your hairs but this man pushing away the hairs and eyeing those marks. "you are literally marked as ours. my love you drive me crazy."

he pushed your dress up and pulled down your panty. your bare ass visible to the men in front. they both groaned at the scene.

"don't distract me much or I will park the car anywhere to get my turn." the man from driver's seat said and chuckled.

"cry for it, Mark but we are going home. if you park the car, I am leaving you there and will drive off to the house."

"fuck you."

"gladly."

Renjun undid his pants and freed himself. he groaned and pumped his dick with the precums over it. He watched you eyeing his movements and grabbed your neck. "Ride me. okay, y/n?"

you nodded and he guided you to sit on his length. you were already dripping from the release of earlier and the new stretch burnt out the soft flesh of yours. you cried out but he kissed away the tears. you slowly started moving and gripped his shoulders. 

"I want to see you but I can't take this dress off because someone else has already claimed it."

he urged you to go faster and you literally started to bounce on his lap. he groaned and moaned out. you could hear groans from the front seat as well.  Renjun brought his hand from your neck to the throat and put pressure to the sides of it. you gasped but still continued to bounce.

he increased the pressure and you almost choked but it didn't hurt you much, he was quick to release for you to breathe fore few seconds only to put pressure again. another hand holding your hips in place. 

"fuck- ah-"

he was near and you felt yourself near as well.

he pushed himself up inside you and you were crying. you were clenching around him for your release.

"Cum baby. I k-know y-you want to cum."

you came and rested your forehead on his shoulder. he removed his hand from your throat and again held your neck keeping you on his shoulder. His thrust increased its' pace and you whimpered for the overstimulation.

"make those sounds in my ear more. I-I'm not going to stop anytime soon."

"too much..."

"hush last one...take it."

the thrusts were rough and uneven and soon he came inside you and he kissed your shoulder. 

"you did well."Renjun said and combed your hairs.

"please I want to sleep. no more today please."

"okay baby. sleep. but remember we are nowhere near the finish line."Renjun chuckled in your ears. he didn't pull out yet but when you whimpered, he detached from you and pulled your dress down. he did his pant again and rested your head on his shoulder.

you closed your eyes but still could hear Haechan's voice.

"oh darling! today night we will have so much more fun. I'm waiting for it."

They all cheered and said, "I like it like that."

but Renjun whispered into your ears, "if you reach your limits you know what to call us."

before dozing off, you mumbled,

"119." 

Im planning to do this fic on NCT 127 and WAY-V. So please tell me whether you want this on the other units. Of course the scenario will be a little bit different.

(Do let me know if you liked it or not…this is a kind of fic I wanted to write but didn’t know how to. So here it is. Please give it a reblog in appreciation.)

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @sexygrass @minkyuncutie @loveforred

[ronearoundblindly]

Not In Front of the Fish...

Jake Jensen x roommate!Reader follow up to Watch the Fish (see previous or JJ Masterlist)

Summary: You've caught Jake doing something he shouldn't, but there's no reason you can't string him along...and along...and along until the line snaps.

Warnings for smut (many references to masturbation, protected sex), horrible puns (yes, hello, I'm Ro, welcome!), heavy innuendo, trolling this poor boi as hard as humanly possible, taking the lord's name in so much vain, kinda *aggressive* foreplay, aftercare, fluff, and whipped!Jake (deserves a warning because I sure as sh*t wasn't prepared 🫠).

Blame @bigtreefest...or thank Essie, ya know, whatevs! No beta, we die drowning in the fish tank. MINORS DNI. And yes, @whiskeytangofoxtrot555, the glasses stay on 🤭 Y'all may not realize this but I myself am an ultra-awkward nerd, so I identify with Jake's struggle and yet would absolutely, endlessly tease this mothaf**ka.

"Hey, Jakey. Whatcha doing?"

Well, thank fuck he's not still hard standing there with his metaphorical dick out, the last image from your laptop's screen seared into his eyeballs of some woman taking a load in her open mouth.

"Need me--" you steadily lick vanilla ice cream off a spoon, some caught at the corner of your wide open lips "--for anything?"

He stares. He stares so intently he almost falls over. Apparently, he's leaned into his staring.

"My help, perhaps?"

Your tongue rolls across the edge of the refilled spoon.

He thinks maybe he'll cry if you keep this up, but for the love of Christ, please keep this up.

"No," he squeaks. "Just..." Must you be wearing short-shorts? Is it essential that your tank top dip so low? "...saying 'hi.'"

His hand flings out in a wave, five fingers managing to point in eight different directions because he can't commit to any sort of normal human movement.

"So... Hi."

Some ice cream drips off the spoon down your chin and to your chest.

Jake is not here right now. Jake has died.

"Sure." You wipe up your mess and keep eating. "Sweet dreams, big guy. You look ready to hit the sack after a long...satisfying...shower." You let the spoon dangle from your mouth while brushing past him, which you have to do. You have to touch him because Jake can't fucking move for the life of him, and he swears to god you made your hand sweep across the front of his hip.

He jolts to follow the contact before overwriting his hind brain. His hand slaps the wall as he catches himself trying before collapsing into a begging puddle at your feet.

He should tell you. He'd rather die.

He should admit what he's done, admit what he wants to do, but when he stops pinching his eyes shut for strength, Jake turns to find you bent over in the doorway.

"Hello, sweethearts," you coo to the fish, "what would you like to do this evening? Maybe watch another movie?"

You wiggle your butt and make this happy sort of popping noise that Jake can't unhear.

Fuck, is this a thing he's gonna have to deal with now? Listening to you watching porn? His mind instinctively scans your room for a glimpse of any toy you may have left out. He's dying, yeah, but dying to know what they look like, if he's bigger than whatever you bury inside you now.

"Jake," you repeat in a breathy way that has him swallowing his tongue. You've stood back up, holding a bowl with oozing white liquid that teeters close to the edge as it melts.

His dick could top that off in jiffy if you'd like.

He coughs. "Yeah, uh, what?"

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

Fuck me, every muscle, bone, and braincell in his body screams at once.

All he manages is an anatomically-correct impression of a fish. No sound comes up from his desperate lungs. He flees to his room.

He hears you shut your door just as he shoves down the shorts he threw on and grabs a squirt of lotion from the bottle nearby.

Too many images speed through his brain all at once, cum and cream, sex and porn, your open mouth, your presented ass, that peek of cheek beneath soft fabric, the shadow along the seam where the material ran right through your folds--probably, at least, he's filling in gaps wherever he pleases--and the breathy sounds of 'Jakey' 'need me' 'help you' 'satisfying,' and 'anything.'

"Fuck me," he growls out in earnest, sparing no trick to get himself off as fast as possible. Maybe if he's quick he won't learn exactly how hot he finds all this. He already relies on you as the voice in his head.

It's like you're right there on the floor with him, cupping his balls and whispering in his ear.

So hard for me, huh? So heavy and in need of attention. Why did you wait to fuck your fist, Jakey? Had to hear me? Think of this dick filling me better than any toy...

He gasps and groans, shoving his face into the nearest side of mattress to muffle the carnal sound.

It puts his ear right next to his discarded headphones.

"Daddy was so rude just then, huh? I know. He's shy. He'll come see you tomorrow. He just needs to be all alone in his bed when he's tired. I know, I know. It makes mommy sad, too. She doesn't like to be all alone, but that's why I have you. Look at the camera and wish daddy goodnight..."

Oh, fuuuuuuuuck me, Jake wails into his sheets when he hears the sound of you blowing a kiss through the speakers.

Poor thing doesn't know you're torturing him on purpose, but at least he came...with his bare knees aching on the hardwood floor of his room and the nosepiece of his glasses digging into his eye sockets as he buries his shame in his bed.

You suggest he have the fish in his room for a while, like shared custody, but then he knows you would have access to listen to him via the livestream.

If he tells you you have to mute it every time, you'll know he might not have. If he refuses to keep the feed up or the camera functioning, you'll be suspicious of why. If he says fucking anything against your very thoughtful and adorable idea, it'll be a cold day in hell since he will endure all forms of torture just to see your elated smile as the tank is finally setup between his closet and his bed across the room from his desk.

The keystrokes from his work are too faint for the camera's microphone, and he proceeds to wear headphones for music, take calls outside, and never touch himself in his own room for weeks. Ok fine, two, he makes it two weeks.

Deprived of hearing you, which he grew rather dependent on, and needing to inconspicuously lengthen his showers, Jake is a mess.

Why didn't he record anything? Why would he??? He was supposed to get himself together like a man and either ask you out or get the fuck over it.

He even watches (but mostly listens to) porn through his headphones without touching himself in an attempt to fade the memory, but then you show up at his door, asking to visit with the 'kiddos' and checking with the Marauders if 'daddy' is treating them well.

He's not gonna make it, man.

You settle on his bed to read for a while because why the fuck would he say 'no' to you, and this is the part that does Jake in the most: his sheets smell like you after and turning in his desk chair to find you accidentally asleep in his bed just... He can't.

He's unwell thinking about how sweet you are, how fucking horrible he's being by fantasizing about you this way, how if he just had the balls to crawl over to kiss you, he'd--but he doesn't. He just gets worse.

He gets real messed up horny one evening when you're out at some fancy event with friends.

You leave wearing this dress that practically had him on his knees the way it molded to you and yet draped so smoothly in places. He thinks of his mouth molded to you that closely and his body laying so smoothly over yours.

Damn it. He has to do something. He goes into your room, and it's not that bad, he just picks up a t-shirt, that's all. He's not the world's worst perv or anything. It's not underwear, for god's sake, but on a fluke (because he has no idea how long he was in there) he climaxes at the sound of you yelling 'I'm home' from the kitchen and scrambles to the bathroom with his gym shorts wrapped around his thighs, hand still catching spurts of cum as he for sure doesn't calm down, with milliseconds to spare.

Thank fucking god you're slower to climb the stairs in heels.

He takes it back. He is the world's worst perv.

Your t-shirt mysteriously disappears until he can sneak it back into your laundry.

He runs out of floss and absently searches your drawer for--oh my god.

OH. MY GOD.

That...is a large, veiny dildo you have there. Oh fuck.

Jake slams the drawer shut without thinking.

"Everything alright?"

"Yeah, just...just gotta put floss on the grocery list."

"Use some of mine," you call out casually.

"It's fine!" His voice was too high and he answered too fast, but if he's not mistaken, you have now invited him to poke around in your things.

He feels slightly less pervy...and a hell of a lot hornier.

It reaches a point where coming in the shower isn't enough.

He falls asleep ok but wakes restless and craving friction. There's want and then there's need, and Jake fucking needs this or he'll never rest.

He goes on as quietly as possible, thinking that getting up, going to the bathroom, and turning on the exhaust fan will make far more noise than humping his sheets and biting his pillow.

The fish tank glows as usual at the foot of his bed.

Look away, kids, Jake thinks and immediately doesn't know whether to be sick or laugh. Daddy is gonna fucking die like this.

He knows it's pathetic. The entire thing has been pathetic from start to finish, but he's just too tired and too het up to care.

A few whines escape the insulation of his pillowcase. He misses the gentle patter of footsteps down the hall.

There's a soft knock followed by "Jake?"

God damn it. The one time he gives in, and he's already ruined it.

He tucks himself up into the band of his boxers which is not exactly subtle but can't be helped. Jake rolls out of his bed, finding his glasses in the dark to crack open the door with his body strategically behind it.

"Yeah, what's up?"

He can't make out a whole lot in the low light, but you don't say anything. Your arms are spread out to hang on either side of the frame, making your (again) very low-cut tank top his only focal point.

Well now he's sorta worried this has absolutely fuck-all to do with his problem. "Are you okay?"

"I...I thought..."

Your voice is soft and timid. It makes Jake want to wrap you in his arms, but he's still worried that you'll say you heard him and it's not okay and he's gross and this is all way, way out of line.

He holds his breath to better listen.

"I hoped you would have needed me by now."

What. Air rushes out of him like he's been tackled.

Sorry, WHAT?

"What?" the question finally falls out as he leans intensely again, shifting so the door doesn't slam in your face, his bare chest and lower half now visible as much as they can be. "You...what now??"

Your arms fall and you step forward. It looks to him like you move with trepidation, that your head is lowered in embarrassment, that somehow you're shy about your confession. Maybe you are, but only the tiniest amount compared to him.

"Tell me if I'm wrong, Jake." You slap one hand to his chest with a crinkling noise, and he swiftly moves to take the wrapped condom. "Tell me if you don't want this," you continue, lowering your voice and hand until your thumb grazes the exposed head of his cock.

Lightning strikes and super-charges his need.

"But if you don't th--"

He'll be damned if you finish that thought. Jake scoops your jaw into one big hand, angling you just-so, barreling you both into his door as it swings into his closet with a wobbling bang. He's clumsy and his grip goes everywhere to bully you flush with his body yet not drop your timely offering.

His kisses are feverish and sloppy. By the feel of you groping at his back and shoulders, you're not mad about it. He fumbles with the wrapper behind your back. It takes his attention away for a few seconds.

"I prepped for you," you whisper hoarsely. "I'm ready."

Jake has no legs at that point and takes you with him in a heap to the floor. While stripping away his boxers, he realizes his naked ass is high in the air of his room.

All he can see in his mind is fish pressed against the glass, staring, judging. Gah, not here.

He maneuvers into your hold again and says, "hang on," crawling to the hall runner so the 'children' won't see. No, he can't make it any further because his length is snuggled between your fucking thighs and somehow the hallway is a fucking mile long to your room. No, he's not immune to your whines from where your head is tucked in the crease of his neck.

Here's fine.

As gracefully as he can, Jake collapses onto you, collecting the noises he missed so much directly from the source.

For being made of such little fabric, your shorts are in his way, and he's genuinely annoyed to have to lift from you again, even though it's necessary to discard them and necessary to get the now-open condom rolled along his aching cock.

His glasses are already smeared from haphazardly exploring your skin. If Jake couldn't see before, he's all but blind now. The only garment close enough to try and clean them is your tank top, but he ignores it because it's still dark. He needs to feel you more than anything else in the world.

Lightly, your fingertips flicker down his abs and lead him to close the gap between you.

Jake groans as he lines himself up and easily notches into your welcoming heat. As aroused as you are, he still edges himself deeper and deeper in barely-controlled strokes, grabbing the railing at his side for leverage and stability.

He grunts instead of articulating how magnificent you feel. He moans instead of voicing what an utter blessing it is to finally fuck you. He gasps with the rolls of your hips because you taking control while beneath him just...unravels him.

This was too long coming, and he wasn't prepared.

Jake's apology for being fast to finish perches at the tip of his tongue when you cut off his words and the last of circulation to his brain.

You shake and pant, mewling 'yes' and his name, while your body squeezes him like a vice. He's being pumped to completion without moving another muscle, and, good fucking god, he has to hang on, falling to his forearm, keeping his open mouth hovering over yours.

Jake thinks maybe he just drowned and got brought back to life.

Right there, in his face are your precariously covered tits, nipples rock hard and taunting him. He doesn't care what his dick's doing anymore; he wrenches a strap down your chest and lavishes your plush flesh with attention.

Too long coming and in no way prepared... Neither were you.

Your hands brace his head, fingers buried in his short hair as you wiggle and hump at his semi-stiff cock inside you. Jake hisses in over-stimulation but doesn't stop you. He swears he will never, ever stop you.

His attentions on your breasts slow but he can't seem to let you go for a long time, long after your legs fall away from him, limp and twitching.

A pair of goodbye pecks is his parting gift before Jake nuzzles up the column of your neck and takes what little breath you've regained, curling his arms around you as his tongue curls with yours.

When he adjusts again, he realizes how sore he's getting from kneeling on the floor, and sits up to help you, too.

"Let me get--I'll just--"

Jake can almost reach a towel inside the bathroom from this position with his long arms, but he's sure to warm up the tap and trash the condom before returning to gently wipe you. He may have made a quick pass at his lenses in there as well.

You look dazed and delightfully sated, basking in the streak of light from the bathroom, leaning on your palms like you're on a beach somewhere.

"Fuck, you're stunning," he says without thought.

He...lingers a while to clean you up, overtly mapping these bits of you he hasn't seen yet.

"What took you so long?"

Jake tosses the towel up into the sink behind him and manhandles you into his arms.

"I might've ruined everything." He starts to lower you into your bed, but you don't release your arms from around his neck. "You could've kicked me out."

He's not going to argue. He won't say 'no' to you.

"Come here, you dork. You can't keep me waiting anymore."

Jake climbs into the cramped, cozy space with you, mentally noting that a bigger bed is definitely on the shopping list.

A/N: I am strategically leaving out my thoughts on the next morning for now because I'm just too excited, eeeee!

[Next part: Feed The Fish]

[s6rine]

a sweet disaster

(megumi bday special!) | main masterlist

pairing : megumi fushiguro x gn!reader synopsis : it's megumi's birthday! what's the best way to celebrate it despite megumi obviously not wanting a party? to entrust nobara and yuji with his cake! tags : fluff i think i have no idea on how to tag stuff, drabble, pre-established relationship AHHHHHHHHHH, writing these tags earlier on but like uhm uhm uhm NOT PROOFREAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OFFICER PUT THE GUN DOWN!!!!!! (update: babi lei proofread it what would i do w/o my wonderful beautiful gorgeous queen 💔), i cant write kageyama for SHIZ even tho theyre the same holy cannoli, lower case work intended perchance, yes yuji got beat, its a little lazy gn its 4 am zzzzzzzz word count : 0.4k a/n : happy birthday tpo MY baby 😭💔 i was gonna write for tobio but even tho theyre like the exact same i just cannot but trust one day i'll make up for it...........perchance❓

a/n pt.2 : my vision was something very similar happened last year… like im imagining last year they tried to smash his face into the cake but someone moved it at the cake at the wrong time at his face hit the table instead ykwim

DECEMBER 14, 1:32 PM megumi doesn’t like birthdays.

not because he hates fun or celebrations, but because, in his mind, having a whole day dedicated to yourself feels unnecessary when there are millions of people born on the same day. what’s so special about it? it’s just another date on the calendar. he doesn’t get the hype, and frankly, he doesn’t care to.

and he’s not shy about saying so—even to you.

"you what?" you exclaim, coming to an abrupt halt. "who doesn’t like birthdays? it’s literally the day you were born! it’s supposed to be special!"

megumi lets out a long, tired sigh, rolling his eyes in your direction.

"it’s not special. at least not to me," he mutters. "and celebrating getting one year closer to dying? seems dumb. plus, they never go right. for me at least." his hands bury themselves in his pockets as he keeps walking, not sparing you a glance.

you quickly catch up, narrowing your eyes at him. "that’s the most depressing thing i’ve ever heard! birthdays are about celebrating life, not… getting morbid. you’re alive, you made it another year, and you deserve cake! lots of cake!"

he shrugs, barely reacting. "cake’s too sweet."

you scowl, a spark of playful annoyance lighting in your chest. you shove his shoulder lightly, earning a grunt as he stumbles a step.

"you’re so lame!"

"good to know." he mutters with a sigh.

DECEMBER 22, 4:19 PM "you’re officially banned from picking restaurants." megumi’s voice is flat as he unlocks his dorm room, both of you slipping off your shoes. "that tapioca was awful. undercooked."

you’ve been oddly quiet since leaving, lips pressed tight like you’re holding back laughter. megumi notices immediately, his eyes narrowing as he stops in the entryway.

"what’s so funny?" he deadpans, his gaze flicking to your face and then over his shoulder. it doesn’t take him long to put the pieces together.

he sighs, already defeated. "seriously?" he asks, just as nobara shoves yuji too hard in the kitchen.

it all happens in slow motion—the cake colliding with megumi’s face, the frosting sticking for a moment before it slides down in one messy lump. the room falls silent except for yuji’s grunt as nobara decks him on the back of the head.

megumi stands frozen, wiping frosting from his cheek with a scowl.

“…we should've listened to gojo-sensei when he said cupcakes were… the better option…” nobara mutters, inching backward cautiously.

maybe he was right—birthday parties never seem to work out for megumi. seems like a repeat of last year.

p.s. : a second birthday date made up for it.

© 𝐒𝟔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 | please do not edit, translate or plagiarize my work ! all banners belong to me, please give credits if used !

[skywalker1dream]

Title: The Champion's Prize

note: hope you like it. hope you are having a good day or night, drink water and eat healthy...byee <3

Warnings: Alcohol use, mild language, fluff

Summary: When Charles comes home drunk and adorable, he turns into a playful WWE champion. You find yourself caught in his antics, realizing just how deeply he loves you.

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

You were sitting on the couch, lazily flipping through the channels on TV, when you heard the unmistakable sound of keys jingling at the front door. Glancing at the clock, you saw it was just past midnight. You smiled to yourself, knowing Charles must be back from his night out with the boys.

The door swung open and in stumbled Charles, a goofy grin plastered across his face. "Ma chérie!" he exclaimed, a bit too loudly, causing you to giggle.

"Hey, you," you said, standing up and walking over to him. "Have a good time?"

"The best!" he declared, throwing his arms around you in an exaggerated hug. You could smell the faint scent of alcohol on his breath, but it was mixed with the familiar cologne that you loved. He pulled back and looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Guess what?"

"What?" you asked, playing along.

"I…am the WWE champion!" he announced, striking a dramatic pose. Before you could react, he scooped you up and carried you over to the bed, gently tossing you onto it. You couldn't help but burst into laughter as he climbed up beside you.

"Oh no, not the WWE champion!" you teased, pretending to be frightened.

"Yes, the WWE champion!" he repeated, flexing his muscles and puffing out his chest. "And now, for my finishing move…" He gently grabbed a pillow and lightly bopped you on the head with it.

You laughed even harder, clutching your sides. "You're ridiculous," you said between giggles.

He leaned in closer, his face inches from yours. "Ridiculously in love with you," he said with a sweet, sincere tone that made your heart melt.

You reached up and cupped his cheek, smiling at him. "I love you too, my WWE champion."

Charles grinned and flopped down beside you, pulling you into his arms. "You know what else?" he asked, his voice already starting to get sleepy.

"What?"

"I won an award tonight," he said, closing his eyes and nuzzling into your neck.

"Oh really? And what award is that?" you asked, playing along again.

He opened one eye and looked at you, his expression completely serious. "The award for having the best girlfriend in the world."

Your heart swelled with love and you kissed his forehead. "Well, you definitely deserve that award."

He sighed contentedly and tightened his grip around you. "I'm so lucky to have you," he murmured, his voice fading as he drifted off to sleep.

You lay there for a moment, listening to his steady breathing and feeling the warmth of his body next to yours. "I'm lucky to have you too," you whispered, knowing he was already fast asleep.

As you closed your eyes, you couldn't help but smile, thinking about how even in his drunken state, Charles always knew how to make you feel loved and cherished.

The next morning, you woke up to the soft rays of sunlight streaming through the curtains. Charles was still sound asleep, his arm draped protectively over you. You smiled, remembering his antics from the night before. Gently, you disentangled yourself from his embrace, careful not to wake him, and tiptoed to the kitchen to make some coffee.

As you were brewing the coffee, you heard a faint groan from the bedroom, followed by the sound of shuffling footsteps. Charles appeared in the doorway, looking adorably disheveled with his hair sticking up in all directions.

"Good morning, WWE champion," you teased, handing him a cup of coffee.

He groaned again, this time in embarrassment, rubbing his temples. "Oh no, what did I do last night?"

You laughed and leaned against the counter, watching him take a sip of his coffee. "You were very cute. You pretended to be a WWE champion and even won an award for having the best girlfriend in the world."

A blush crept up Charles' cheeks as he looked at you with a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry if I was too much."

"Don't be," you said, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his waist. "It was adorable, and it made me realize just how much you love me, even when you're drunk."

He placed his coffee cup on the counter and hugged you tightly. "I do love you, more than anything, Ma chérie" he murmured into your hair.

You pulled back slightly to look into his eyes. "I love you too, Charles. Now, how about we spend the day relaxing and maybe watch some actual WWE?"

Charles chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. "That sounds like a perfect plan."

The two of you spent the morning lounging on the couch, binge-watching WWE matches and laughing together. Charles kept making silly comments, mimicking the wrestlers' moves and expressions, making you laugh so hard your sides hurt.

At one point, he got up and struck another dramatic pose. "And now, the reigning champion, Charles Leclerc, will perform his signature move!" He gently tackled you onto the couch, both of you dissolving into fits of laughter.

After a while, you both settled down, with Charles lying on the couch and your head resting on his chest. His fingers traced soothing patterns on your arm as you both watched the TV in comfortable silence.

"Thank you for always being there for me," he said softly, breaking the silence.

You looked up at him and smiled. "Always, Charles. You're my champion, after all."

He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, his eyes full of love and adoration. "And you're my prize, the best one I could ever win, Ma chérie."

You snuggled closer, feeling completely content and loved. No matter what antics he got up to, you knew that Charles would always be your champion, both in the ring of life and in your heart.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

hello lovelyy, hope ur doing good! 🫶🏼 can i request a studying w college matt fluff? where he is like all boyish and sweet and perfect and boyfriend ughhh

ps.: yes I KNOW i only request for him 😭 but im new to the fandom and obsessed w him.. sometimes i feel like the hype on him is kinda gone idk.. so if you do not feel like writing, it its all good! thank uuu and love ur blog! 💐

hii my angel!! I am and hope you are too!! so so cute and ofc!! it depends on who you follow bc matty gets lots of love on my dash. if you want i can rec some matt writers? but if you follow me, I have a feeling you probably follow them already😭 thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌

he’s the prettiest

STUDY BUDDIES.

college matt murdock x fem!reader — fluff

word count. 353

At the end of every school week, you and Matt would have a long, laborious study session to complete all assignments before the weekend rolled around. They would be tedious, but they were worth it when it meant you could have a couple of days together, interrupted and enjoying the other's company.

You would always be far more productive when you were in the presence of your boyfriend, though most would think otherwise. His silent encouragement and support would give you the push you needed to work through your copious papers and assignments - his hard work ethic also rubbing off on you.

You were in your dorm, you at your desk, Matt laying on your bed - braille papers bunched and resting atop his chest —disregarded—

Both of you were trying to cram as much as you could before calling it a night, each of you far too tired to be using your brains in the way you currently are.

"I can't do anymore," you sigh, twisting in your chair to face Matt. "My head will explode," you playfully groan, standing to join him on your bed. 

"I can help?" he offers, scooching across the mattress - making more space for you.

You flop beside him and curl into his side, head resting atop his paper-covered chest. "No. No, absolutely not," you laugh softly, far too weary to give it any more than that. 

"I didn't mark you down as a quitter," he lightly chuckles, stroking a hand up your spine - gently nudging you closer to him. "Shame on you," he teases, pressing a kiss into the top of your forehead.

You peer up at him, his signature boyish smile out and on display. "Did you even finish your assignment?" you ask, gesturing to the papers beside him. 

He hums, tone somewhat sleepy. "Forty minutes ago."

"Forty?" you repeat, lifting your head from his chest, trying to find signs of a lie on his face. "What have you even been doing for forty minutes?"

He hesitates, the corners of his lips tilting back up into a soft grin. "Listening to you."

[greg-montgomery]

any other world - prologue

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader - soulmate au

series masterlist

to those who voted no on my poll: i see you and i get you 🙏🏻 i’ll try not to be frustrating and make you wait too long

also i want to thank @criminalskies and @hotchs-bitch for listening to me talk about this idea, it motivated me 🫶🏻

- 18 -

“Stop!”

“Not unless you tell me.”

“Never.”

Sticking to your word seemed impossible at that moment though, as Aaron’s hands attacked your sides, causing you to giggle in a way that made it hard to breathe.

“Okay, I give up,” you cried out. “I give up, stop.”

“Okay,” he said, and the motion of his hands turned quickly into a comforting, soothing one.

“Promise you won’t make fun?”

Aaron lowered himself on top of you and left a sweet kiss on the tip of your nose. “On my life,” he said, and placed his palm over his chest.

“Alright…” You took a deep breath and continued. “Leila if it’s a girl. Jack if it’s a boy.”

Aaron had promised he wouldn’t make fun, so it sure made you feel curious as to why he had turned red from laughing.

“You liar!” You slapped his arm softly.

“No,” he rushed to defend himself, his voice muffled with laughter. “No, it’s just…Jack is the most generic name. How did you come up with that?”

“I just think it’s cute. Jack,” you said the name with a smile. “Short and cute.”

“Jack…” he repeated after you, testing it on his tongue. “Maybe you’re onto something.”

“See? I told you.”

“Jack and Leila.”

“We’re having both?” you questioned with a grin.

“Obviously.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer to your body. Aaron melted on top of you in the same way he always did, as if you were his home.

You stared up at him dreamily, running your fingers through his hair; dark and full, you wished your future kids would get that part of him. His dimples, his smile, his cheeks... every part of him was perfect.

“You’re staring, tulip.”

“What? Am I not allowed to admire the future father of my kids?”

Aaron’s grin grew wider, but he didn’t let you look at it for too long, as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, leaving tiny kisses on the sensitive skin.

“I’m gonna wake up every morning before anyone else to make us all a nice breakfast.”

“Now I know that’s a lie,” he said, his lips behind your ear. “You’re always still asleep when I return from my morning runs.”

“Okay, fine. You’ll make breakfast, I’ll make dinner.”

“Deal.”

--

- 11 -

 “Stay still!”

“I am still!”

“You’re not and it’s gonna turn out all wrong. It has to be perfect.”

Aaron pouted, but followed your instructions anyway. You both wanted it to look as real as possible. Then people would think you were real soulmates already. Even if you were only eleven.

A.H. on your skin. [Y/I] on his.

Your classmates later made fun of you for them and said they looked fake. But neither of you cared. You just had to stay patient, and the marks on your wrists would turn real when it was finally time.

--

- 16 -

Tulip was an easy flower to draw as a kid. Especially when you had to draw one every day for the boy you had a crush on.

Now, as a teenager you cringed at the memory of all the drawings you used to leave on Aaron’s desk during third grade. But Aaron had never made fun of you for it. Instead he had shown you his collection of your tulip drawings. He had kept them all in a shoe box.

Just like you had kept his. And on top of the stack there was of course the most important one. The one with the “Will you be my girlfriend?” question and the ‘yes or no’ boxes underneath it.

You were both artistic as kids when it came to expressing your love for each other and it was both sweet and embarrassing.

You and Aaron had grown up together, your houses right next to each other. The memory of your first day of school with a little backpack in one hand and Aaron’s hand in your other was engraved in your brain.

Aaron was your best friend. The one who stood up for you every time a kid decided to be funny on your expense. The one who helped you with your homework when science got too hard to understand. The one you played hide and seek with and had physical fights with over board games.

But he was also the boy you had a crush on. The one that filled your stomach with butterflies every time he smiled at you. The one whose name you filled your notebook pages with along with pink glittery hearts. The one who stole your first kiss and the one you daydreamed about every night as you fell asleep.

He was your soulmate. And he thought so too.

“Is Aaron staying for dinner?” your mom yelled from downstairs, as you and Aaron studied on your bedroom floor.

“He is,” you yelled back, without even asking him. He kept running his thumb over his knuckles, which was a sign that he was stressed. There was no need for him to tell you what had happened when he had rung your doorbell earlier that day. All the screaming from the house next to yours had reached your own ears perfectly clear.

If you could, you’d hold him in your arms forever, protecting him from the world. He’d never have to go home again.

“We have tomato soup and grilled cheese, your favorite,” you whispered and he smiled at you.  

--

- 21 -

A pair of chapped lips pressed against your forehead, as your naked body was resting against Aaron’s.

“I’ve told you to put this on before bed. It’ll change your life,” you said, shifting to reach a small lip balm jar you had left on his nightstand.

Opening the little box, you dipped your ring finger in it and got some product, ready to apply it on Aaron’s lips.

Using your arm on his chest to steady yourself, you put it gently across his lips.

“My soulmate mark is about to appear in less than ten minutes and you’re worried about my chapped lips,” he joked.

“Exactly! It’s a big moment for us, and your lips need to be ready.”

“Ready for what?” he smirked.

“Shut up,” you said, and dropped your head back on his chest.

His fingers tracing patterns on your bare back made you yawn and he was quick to prevent you from falling asleep.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me.”

“I won’t,” you promised.

“Eight minutes,” he breathed.

“Eight minutes and our forever begins.”

@magical-spit