#to actually WRITE the actual THING but like... damn...

[formulafanfics13]

Since I have seen a couple of fics bases on songs I was wondering if your could write one where the reader is a famous singer dating either Max or Kimi and she releases her new song Diet Pepsi by Addison Rae. Making the public and the grid realise how freaky the driver is. As well as the driver getting teased a lot even to the point of getting asked in interviews about the song and car sex. If possible then add a part where said driver gets caught getting a bj in the car by another driver who won’t stop teasing them. Please 🙏🥺.

Diet Pepsi  - MV1 🔥

Masterlist

Summary: You drop a surprise single at midnight — a filthy, unfiltered anthem clearly about Max Verstappen. The internet erupts. Lyrics match real paparazzi photos and private moments, leaving zero room for doubt. The F1 grid loses its mind, with Charles and Lando leading the chaos. Max wakes up to find his sex life trending and his girlfriend smugly drinking coffee in his hoodie. The paddock never recovers. From viral memes to press questions, backseat jokes, and a now-infamous G-Wagon incident, your relationship goes from secret to legendary. And Max? Max doesn’t just take it — he starts playing your song every time he drives.

Content Warning: Smut, public sex, oral sex (fem reader on male), dirty talk, degradation, humiliation kink, exhibitionism, group chat teasing, innuendo-heavy dialogue, power dynamics, and references to social media virality.

You don’t even warn him. Not the label, not his PR, not even his fucking manager. Not even Max himself. You just release the single at midnight, posted with a caption that read:

“For the freak in the Red Bull. You know who you are.”

By 1am, the F1 grid knows exactly who you’re talking about.

The world doesn’t react gently. It detonates.

Clips go viral instantly:

The line “losing all my innocence in the backseat” paired with paparazzi photos of you straddling Max in the parking lot of a Monaco restaurant last summer.

A zoomed-in shot of his actual gold cross chain reflecting off your glossy red lips as you leaned out of his car window during race week in Budapest.

An old TikTok from behind the scenes of a Calvin Klein shoot where Max’s hands disappear under the hem of your skirt when he thinks no one’s looking.

Fans aren’t stupid. Neither are the drivers. By sunrise, Lando’s tweeted “this song sounds like a Red Bull strategy” and Charles has reposted the song with a feral “💀💀💀” and the words “Max bro????”

Christian texts Max just one word: “Backseat???”

And Pierre drops a comment under your video teaser that just says: “Tell him to blink twice if he’s alive.”

Max wakes up late. Rolls over in bed, eyes crusty, hair a mess, boxers askew, unaware that his entire fucking sex life is trending. You’re standing in the kitchen in his hoodie and no pants, pouring coffee like you didn’t just end his career with three minutes of breathy vocals and confession-level filth.

“Did you sleep well, baby?” you ask sweetly.

Max narrows his eyes at you.

You just smile, tip your head, and hum: “When we drive in your car, I’m your baby...”

He drops his phone face down without even unlocking it. “Are you fucking serious?” he mutters.

You take a slow sip. “It’s a hit.”

By the next race weekend, the entire paddock is feral. The song is blasting through fan zones and garages. Mechanics are singing “break all the rules till we get caught” while calibrating cars. Engineers are humming “Diet Pepsi” over the radio checks. Max walks into the drivers' briefing and Lando immediately plays the chorus from his phone.

Even Lewis gives him a slow, knowing smile across the room like, damn boy. You really did that.

Max sits in his chair like it’s a throne of humiliation and pride. Because the thing is, he did. All of it.

You did ride him in the RB19 simulator garage in Singapore. You did fog up the G-Wagon windows behind the Red Bull hospitality tent in Miami. You did write your name in lipstick on his chest before a press day in Baku.

And now the whole world knows. Because you told them. With verses. And falsetto. And a bass line that sounds like your moans sampled on loop.

The interview questions start off subtle. Then they get worse.

Sky Sports was first, “So Max, your girlfriend’s latest single is number one globally! Have you had a chance to, uh, hear it yet?”

Max, replied with the most bored tone, “She played it while she was recording it.”

A Dutch outlet was next, “There’s a lot of speculation about which car the lyrics refer to. Is it the Aston Martin Valkyrie or the Porsche GT3?”

Max, with a straight face, “Whichever one has the deepest seats.”

Lando, walking past off-camera: “That would be the Red Bull garage, no?”

Then it happens. Three days later. Friday night. Quiet paddock. You’re back early from Milan. Max is restless. Horny. Wound tight from the teasing.

You’re both parked in the back lot behind the media centre. Inside the AMG G-Wagon. It’s hot. Windows up. Engine off.

He’s got his jeans halfway down his thighs. You’re between his legs in your little cherry-red mini dress and nothing else underneath. Lipstick already smudged, hair clinging to your cheeks. You’re slow and messy about it. Drool running down his cock, hands on his thighs, mouth full and humming the bridge of your own song against him.

Max is gripping the seat like he’s in the middle of a Grand Prix. And then.. Tap tap tap. He looks up. The horror is immediate. Standing outside the window, two fucking shadows. Peering in. Smirking. Wide-eyed. Shit-eating grins. Charles. And Lando.

Max nearly chokes. Tries to cover you but it’s too late. Lando throws up a peace sign. Charles mouths: “Untouched” with the most evil smirk you’ve ever seen.

You do not stop. If anything, you go slower. Max throws his head back, groaning out your name, coming so hard he forgets how to breathe.

The group chat explodes.

CHARLES: max bro ur girl’s throat deserves a grammy LANDO: did the back seat get jealous of the front one or what OSCAR: I’m not opening any car doors near Red Bull again GEORGE: Mercedes cars have privacy glass for a reason PIERRE: imagine finishing a blowjob to your own chorus CARLOS: she should do a live performance in parc fermé

Max leaves the chat. Twice. They keep adding him back.

It becomes a thing. FIA press officers start confiscating aux cables in the media pen. Your fans start tagging every photo of Max with “my boy’s a winner, he loves the game”. People ship you under the hashtag #MaxInTheBackseat. Christian bans anyone from saying “Diet Pepsi” within the garage unless they’re talking about actual beverages.

Your Spotify bio reads: “Untouched. XO. Young lust. Let’s go.”

And Max? Max starts requesting your song when he gets in the car.

Late one night after qualifying, he pulls you into his hotel room, presses you against the mirror with your back arched, your dress hitched up, and says: “Sing it for me.”

You moan instead.

He slaps your thigh. “Sing.”

So you do. While he fucks you. Hard. Slow. And when you get to the part about writing your name on his chest, he’s already pulling off his shirt.

“You’re mine,” he growls. “I want them to know it.”

You leave a mark in red. Lipstick and nail crescents. You’re his baby. Always have been. Even before the world knew. Now they just get to watch.

[fleurbly]

part I, part II. cw: smut 18+, aged up characters

— you didn’t come back for him. you came back because of the tape. because of the way he said your name in that voice note, slow and cruel, like a warning. because you knew what he was capable of when ignored. you came back because survival meant surrender. and he fucking loved that.

— he doesn’t ask questions. doesn’t pretend to care why you’re back. just pulls you in by the back of your neck and kisses you like he owns your mouth. “see?” he mutters, lips brushing yours. “you don’t leave me. not really.”

— he’s worse now. not loud and chaotic— controlled. like he’s figured out how to twist the knife quietly. tells you when to speak, when to smile, when to shut the fuck up. and you do. because you’re scared of what happens if you don’t.

— when you go quiet, he doesn’t panic anymore. doesn’t beg you to yell or throw things. he just leans in close and says, “you don’t need to say anything. i know what you’re thinking. and you’re wrong.” like he’s already rewritten your thoughts for you.

— he doesn’t let you go anywhere alone now. “not after last time,” he says, lighting a rollie. “can’t trust you not to run when shit gets hard.” he walks you to work. picks you up. doesn’t even try to hide it.

— he checks your clothes before you leave the house. tells you what to change. lifts your skirt and says, “too short.” pulls your top down and says, “too much.” but he fucks you wearing it later anyway. calls you a tease. says it’s your fault he gets like this.

— he fucks you like a punishment now. not soft. not sweet. hand around your throat, words in your ear like venom. “this is what you came back for, yeah? dirty little liar. missed gettin’ ruined.” he doesn’t finish until you’re crying, or choking on his name.

— he doesn’t let you ride anymore. says you get too confident on top. says he needs to “remind you who runs the fucking show.” and he does. over and over. until you forget what power even felt like.

— he watches you get dressed from the bed, head propped on one arm. smirks. “you know you’re mine, right?” he says, calm. “not like, metaphorically. like actually. mine.” and you just nod. because if you don’t, he’ll make you say it out loud.

— he calls you “girl” like a threat. “my girl,” when he’s pissed off. “this girl,” when he’s mocking you. “good girl,” when you finally stop arguing. every version of it means the same thing: stay where i put you.

— he’s affectionate in public in that dangerous way. hand on the back of your neck. a kiss just shy of violent. tells his mates, “she’s obsessed with me, bruv. can’t get enough.” but you see the look in his eyes. you’re not a girlfriend. you’re a trophy on a leash.

— he gaslights you for sport now. twists things you know he said. makes you apologize for shit he started.“think you’re losin’ it,” he says, half-laughing. “might need to get you looked at. proper mental, you are.”

— he jerks off next to you when you won’t fuck him. loud, messy, doesn’t break eye contact. “see what you do to me?” he spits. “even when you’re useless, i still want you.”

— he makes you beg now. not just during sex, for everything. attention. affection. fucking food sometimes. he waits until you’re soft, until your voice cracks, until your pride’s gone, and then he gives in. “there she is,” he grins. “my needy little thing.”

— he’ll press his forehead to yours after an argument, eyes wild, breathing heavy. “you don’t leave again,” he whispers. “you fuckin’ don’t.” and you say you won’t. because at this point, you don’t know how.

— and the worst part? you don’t even flinch when he raises his voice anymore. you just brace for it. because this isn’t love. it’s survival. and he’s made damn sure you know the difference.

masterlinks

final part of this headcanon series for james cook! really glad you guys loved it. will be working on writing more fics on him in the future.

[twd-bee3]

Peach Cobbler

Summary: Carol had asked the Dixons to bring something to the next group dinner which means that you are baking while Daryl dicks around in the kitchen.

Warnings/Tags: domestic!daryl, married pair, pure fluff, wife!reader (she/her), season seven, no use of y/n

Word count: 520

A/N: After writing a bunch of angst, which will be posted later, I needed a lighter story to write. This was inspired by a prompt from @fromdove, and I had a great time writing it. It felt good to let Daryl have a moment of peace. This is basically just him being childish and terrorizing his wife.

Inside the kitchen, you are measuring different ingredients and peeling the skin off a batch of peaches. Daryl had joined you and was admiring you as you worked. He always thought that you were cute when you focused. Things had finally calmed down in Alexandria, so it was nice to enjoy this small bit of normalcy. For whatever reason, Daryl decided to perch himself up on the counter, and he was absentmindedly swinging his feet. This earned an eye roll from you.

“Why is your dirty ass on my clean counter?”

“Ain't that dirty. I washed up yesterday.”

“Oh, that makes it so much better.”

You were being sarcastic, but you couldn't stop yourself from smiling a little at his antics. As you chopped the peaches, Daryl was taking pieces when you looked away and sneaking bites. He thought that he was being stealthy, but you quickly noticed and lightly swatted his hand away.

“Would you stop that? Ain't gonna be able to make a cobbler if you keep eatin' all the fruit.”

“Can't help it, sweetheart. They're real good.”

You were trying to be stern, but the look on his face and his simple answer made you laugh. He was right, though. These peaches came from Hilltop and they were damn good. You looked over at him and saw that he had gotten peach juice in his beard. You grabbed a nearby kitchen towel and wiped his face while playfully scolding him.

“You're fuckin' ridiculous, y'know that? Like havin' a toddler.”

Squirming, he pretended to be offended and gasped softly. “That ain't fair. I ain't nothin' like a toddler.”

“Whatever. Just stop takin' shit. Especially since you ain't even helpin' me.”

At the idea of having to bake something, Daryl groaned and dramatically slumped against the cabinet that his back had been resting on. You just rolled your eyes again and tried to stifle another laugh. Entertaining this little stunt would only encourage him further.

“See what I mean? You're like an overgrown baby.”

“Am not. Just ain't understandin' why I, the man of the house, should have to bake.”

You knew that he didn't actually believe that, and he was just teasing you, but it always riled you up. That's exactly what your man wanted. Shooting Daryl a playful glare, you softly smacked one of his legs and pointed a finger at him.

“Don't you start with that patriarchal bullshit. I ought to make you get down and bake this cobbler yourself.”

“I was just fuckin' with you, sweetheart. You ain't gotta do all that.”

Despite his protests, you grabbed Daryl's hand and pulled him off the counter. He sighed loudly, but allowed you to drag him over to where you'd been standing. You positioned him in front of the cutting board and handed him the knife.

“Get choppin', dickhead.”

For the rest of the afternoon, Daryl begrudgingly helped his wife prepare and bake the cobbler. He bitched and mumbled the whole time, but he did enjoy spending time with you. Part of him even liked baking, but his stubborn ass was would never admit that.

[itslifetreesworld]

So I've been having this idea of doing one of my favorite looks of Ethan and Benji across the M: I series! Obviously Benji joined in mi3 so I put the first two Ethans together to jump start everything. I hope to do each one every day so stay tuned!

I will also write something explaining why I picked that particular costume/look, with screenshot references and anything I found interesting during the process, so if you are interested in some ramblings here we go:

Mission: Impossible

I know everyone thinks of the Langley suit when talking about the first M: I movie (so am I). I'm not saying it's overrated because it's not, but I do think maybe that's too much of a cliche if I also pick that? So the other day I watched a video essay discussing the evolving of costumes in movies and they mentioned this grey striped suit with blue shirt and a blue tie in M: I and I just thought, damn, that's a really nice suit:

It was the suit Ethan wore when he met with Max. It's a bit of a shame that Ethan slowly turns to a very utilitarian all-black-and-leather choice of clothing and does not really wear anything like this anymore.

Plus, I think it is one of the very few times where Ethan wears a long coat (the only other appearance actually being in FR? Correct me if I'm wrong)

Mission: Impossible 2

Ok so the thing is, I don't remember a lot from mi2 ... (would you blame me thou) so when I watched it again trying to pick a favorite look, what I realized is that... (Spoiler alert if you haven't seen mi2 which is from,,,literally 25 years ago)

...that a lot of my favorites are actually the villains in Ethan's mask!?!? I find it very funny but then it would not be fair to do that, maybe I can do that as a bonus one after everything? Anyway eventually I picked Ethan in this grey-ish blue shirt with a vest:

I think this was technically still part of the disguise of Nekhovich, but it was pretty cute (and I'm running out of options)

My favorite part of this look is actually the disheveled hair due to the removal of the mask, and it's also super fun to draw :D

Mission: Impossible 3 (finally)

My first choice of Ethan's look in mi3 is actually the one with the brown suede jacket, which is also the one with the most screen time (I think?)

The second one that came into my mind is the tactical suit during the mission to rescue Lindsey, which is also something l like a lot but never really reappeared on screen:

(btw do you know how hard it is to find anything that's neither pitch black nor blurry while showing the suit during this sequence, this is the best I can do)

But as I put them next to Benji...none of them feels right!? At that point I realized I had no other choice than this aforementioned all-black T-shirt and jeans combo when he called Benji in Shanghai.

I am not complaining about anything, the beaten-up Ethan and the blood are all part of the look and they are VERY GOOD (I mean to draw).

Speaking of Benji, before doing this, I genuinely thought he only had one costume, the one when he's rambling about the rabbit's foot:

But the one when Ethan called him is actually slightly different! I think it was the same blue jacket that gave me the impression of only one costume:

Anyway, I actually preferred the rabbit's foot one, but again for pairing him with Ethan I went with the second one.

Btw I cannot find anything about what pants Benji wears in the movie, so I had to make something up. Judging from the dress code of the IMF at that time, I guess it was probably also something dark or black, colorless, and probably not really Benji's choice of clothing.

Another thing I realized from this is that Benji in his pre-field agent days might be quite sensitive to the cold? In both of the IMF office scenes, he wore at least 4 layers and he kept his jacket on, in comparison Ethan only wears a light sweater while Luther is wearing a sweater and a jacket, no one else in the IMF seems to wear as much as Benji did:

It was probably just part of the character building, to have this kind of geeky-nerdy look? He doesn't seem to wear particularly more than others in the following series.

Anyway that's all of my ramblings for my fav looks in mi1-3! If you made it this far, thank you so much for reading, and looking forward to seeing you again maybe tomorrow ;)

[mylovesstuffs]

How O13 would ask you out

Request: hello! hope you’re doing ok ♡ wanted to ask if you could do how each member would ask you out? thank you!

A/N: HELLO SWEETEST 🥹🫶🏼 I’m doing well! I hope you enjoy!!

A/N #2: Did this individual format after a long time, but tbh, this felt right for this one. Will keep on changing formats according to what I'm writing and what it needs ^^

Seungcheol: He keeps it simple and heartfelt since I think he'll invite you out for coffee ‘just to catch up,’ and halfway through he's like, "actually, I brought you here because I’ve been thinking about this a lot… and I really want to take care of you. If you’d let me." The man is sincere, mature, and would wait for your answer like it’s the most important one he’ll ever hear... because it is

Jeonghan: Tbh, he tricked you into dating him lol. You didn’t even know it was a date until he goes, “so are we officially a couple now or do I still have to pretend this was a coincidence?” He confesses with a smirk but eyes full of sincerity. He makes it seem like a game… but oh, he’s been really serious about you this whole time, so please don't let this fool you.

Joshua: He's a gentleman and can be really romantic but I low-key think rn that he might soft-launch. He starts with, "I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately." Gives you a diy beaded necklace, a flower, maybe even a lil handwritten note. Then says, “if it’s okay… I’d really like to take you out. Like, properly.” He respects your pace but makes it very clear how serious he is about you.

Jun: He’d flirt a lot beforehand, such as, teasing, lingering touches, inside jokes. Then one day, mid-convo, he drops it: "why don’t we stop pretending and just go out already?" But when/if you hesitate/s, he softens his tone, "I’m serious. I want this. I want you." He actually is very serious about you.

Hoshi: He overthinks it, and practices in front of mirrors. Forgets his own name when the time comes and ends up blurting, “I like you!! Go out with me?!” But his genuine, shaking but excited energy is so him that you can’t help but smile and say yes. I promise, he’ll jump around like he won a medal.

Wonwoo: He says it after walking you home, maybe late at night when the street is quiet, “I don’t say things unless I mean them. And I want to be with you. So… would that be okay?” He's quiet, and will be steady with you as you make your decision. He's very sincere sincere and he won’t rush you, but he means every word.

Woozi: Probably wrote you a whole damn song. He can’t say it out loud so he writes it. He accidentally and kinda in impulse out himself when he gives you a song demo or lyric sheet as usual and says, “I wrote this thinking about someone… you.” Then proceeds to stare at the floor like he might pass out, but when you smile and say yes, he finally looks up — and his expression is pure relief + joy.

Dokyeom: He asks you out like it’s the most exciting thing to ever happen to him. “Would you maybe want to go on a date with me?! Like a real one!! With food and movies and ME?!” The second you say yes, he hugs you so tight you can’t literally can not breathe!!! He’s glowing for the rest of the month. I just love it!

Mingyu: Best believe, he'll be a messy, flirty, adorable disaster! He tries to be slick but fumbles halfway, “hey, so like... if I took you out, like not as friends but as... more... would you be into that?” Then panics and says, “Wait—no—I mean—yes but—do you want pizza??” You kiss him just to shut him up and he 😵‍💫🫨😳🤯🫠

Minghao: In my humble opinion, he's kind of like those cool on the outside, soft on the inside dudes. He confesses with a lot of composure, but you can tell he’s nervous underneath. “I admire a lot of things about you. And lately… I’ve been wondering if you feel the same.” His tone might be steady, but his fingers fidget slightly. The moment you say yes, he smiles with his whole heart, and you can really see how much happy he is.

Seungkwan: I think he'll overthinks then blurts it. He will plan the moment for WEEKS, and then when he finally gets you alone, he panics, “I like you. A LOT. Like I-think-about-you-all-the-time kind of like you.” He covers his face in embarrassment, but when you laugh and say “me too,” he might actually cry.

Vernon: Okay, so, he'll be blunt but weirdly romantic about it. He’ll be sitting next to you, sipping something, casually say, “you know I like you, right?” And you’re like “Wait WHAT?” He shrugs, “yeah. I just thought you should know. Wanna go out sometime?” Then gives you that shy lil smile that makes your heart implode. Like idk how much my writing will imply but, the way he says all of these is just... somehow romantic. Like it sounds weirdly romantic and wonderful when he says it.

Dino: He rehearses it in his head so much but when it’s time, he forgets the lines. “Okay so like, I like you. A lot. And I think we’d be really good together. Would you, um, maybe wanna go out? With me?” He's nervously messing with his hands trying not to explode from the adrenaline rush. But when you say yes? That proud, giddy look is just UNMATCHED. He'll immediately pull you into a much needed hug!

[conelluwrites]

i LOVE ur writing so much! I was wondering if u could do a fic where the (fem) reader is a producer and thanos meets her for the first time to make a song and it turns into a lil smut?

Waste Away My Days With Some Pretty Young Thing

Ao3 Requests open!! Words: 3.1k Warnings: Cunnilingus, fingering, creampie, Thanos being a lame lil shit and hyping himself up in his head, reader really isn't fucking with his vibe for the first part of this Other: Death of a Strawberry gives me some Thanos vibes idk, it makes me think of bright colors which makes me think of Thanos haha. Got into a massive mood to write Thanos smut, my sweet purple bastard boy. This is my 69th post, who better to have it be than legend Thanos. I hope you like it!!

The studio is small enough to be comfortable but still a bit too warm in the summer heat outside.  She’s used to it though, she’s worked here for long enough to be recommended to some of the bigger names but there’s been a recent lull in work for her- or rather work that she actively enjoys doing.  What’s that saying…  You do something you love, you never work a day in your life?  Bullshit, she thinks, she does enjoy her job but it’s still work and sometimes she just needs some sort of a break from it all.  Unfortunately, she didn’t get a break and instead got stuck with having to produce for Choi Su-bong. He’s loud, full of himself, and annoying.  The heat outside must be making it even harder for her to put up with him.  Today has been tiring, especially since he arrived.  Thanos, Thanos the Great, however the hell Su-bong introduced himself as.  His hair was styled into soft, purple devil horns that made her want to reach out and touch his hair, his clothing was obnoxiously colored especially under the lighting in the studio.  He seemed more interested in scrolling his phone and taking hits of his vape than he did working, not surprising given how others talked about him, but still annoying.  She sits back in her chair and sighs deeply, rubbing her temples before looking at him again.  The smoke of his blue razz vape swirls around his head and surrounds him like a bathe of light before dissipating higher above him.

He laughs at something on his phone- something stupid, she’s sure of it.  She rolls her eyes without even meaning to, something that catches his attention immediately.  Time to turn on the charm, he assures himself- he can’t stand to see some woman actually upset with him.  Besides, he has been dicking around for the better part of an hour.  “You seem stressed, señorita,” he begins, enunciating every syllable of señorita in a way that only serves to make her more exasperated.  “Something on that pretty mind of yours?”  That’s the way, compliment her.  It’s not that he doesn’t think she’s pretty, she’s fucking bangin’- he just knows she’d probably not take it well if he hit her with something like hey lil mama, come over here right quick, I’ll take away all your stress.“Can we just get to work?”  She asks, trying to not sound as annoyed as she is.  She tries to ignore the way he slightly pouts at her dismissal of his ‘charm’, but his pout is rather quickly replaced with another grin.  That shit eating grin that she wants to slap off his stupid, handsome face.  She can’t stand the bastard.

“Work?   We got all the time in the world to work, baby girl, but I won’t be able to do my best if my producer ain’t feeling me.” He says, taking a last hit of his vape before sitting it aside and standing up.  He groans as he stretches- fuck, how long was in that damn position.  His green shirt raises up his abdomen before settling back into place, but not before she catches a glimpse of the top of his boxers above the waistband of his pants.  A break.  She just needs a break.  She grunts and shakes her head, seeming to dismiss him again but it was just to dismiss her own sudden influx of thoughts just from the tiniest amount of skin and boxers she saw.  Goddamnit, what is she, some fangirl groupie?  He seems to pick up on her inner thoughts, his grin turning downright diabolical as he stands over her.  He doesn’t reach out to cup her chin, no matter how badly he wants to, he’s gotta work slower on her.

“I don’t need to feel you, Thanos.” She deadpans, it’s a stupid response- she knows that things go better when they’re both on the same page, but fuck it, she’s getting progressively more annoyed the more he talks and looks at her like… like that!  She wants to tell him to stop staring down at her, stop looking at her with those damn eyes, and stop grinning. “Sure you do, baby girl.  You really need t’feel me.” He lowers his voice, smoothing out his tone in a way that makes her face burn.  It’s far from the first time someone she was producing for hit on her, but it’s one of the few times she’s actually been affected by it.  She blows air out, rolling her eyes again and looking away from him while crossing her arms over her chest.  The action draws his gaze down for a moment, before his dark eyes meet face again.  “C’mon, you ain’t gonna sit there all pretty and tell me that if you keep blowing me off that it’ll just make our time together sour, yeah?  I don’t take you for a liar, so tell me the truth, sweet thing.”  He wants to, needs to, tilt her face to get those pretty eyes on his but before he can even lift his hand she looks at him again.  Good, good, Thanos.  You’re breaking down those walls like a damn MVP.

“Fine.  If we get along, things will go easier for us both.  It’s just you- you- ugh…”

Cute.  Real cute, actually.  It’s not every day that someone hides their feelings for him behind the guise of being upset with him- sure, some people pretend to not know him, but they never really seem borderline disgusted with him.  He cocks his head to the side, allowing her to take her sweet time to get those words out.

“It’s just you’re so you.”

Ough, that kinda stings, huh… He doesn’t take it to heart though, letting the words run off of him like water.  It’s all good, ain’t nothin’.  He didn’t miss the way his earlier comment got her feeling all kinds of things. “Loud, annoying, and just- fuck!”  She leans back in her chair and rubs her eyes.  She doesn’t even know how to put into words how he’s making her feel, much less how she truly views him.  Closing her eyes just results in her brain flashing images of his abdomen.  What is this bullshit…  Though, in her own defense, it’s been a while since she’s had the pleasure of anything other than her fingers or a vibrator.  Hell, even counting self pleasure, it’s been a while.  She lets out a sigh, removing her hands from her eyes and letting them fall limply to her sides.

“And handsome, right?  So damn good lookin’, if I do say so myself.” He says, standing with his hands on his hips as he gazes down at her.  He’s gotta tread carefully, he knows when a sweet lil thing is feeling conflicted and it’s not like she makes any effort to hide it.  Fuck, he wants to make her feel better about whatever the fuck is going on in her head.  Such a cute thing doesn’t deserve to look so damn stressed.

“Yeah, whatever.”  She says, pulling her phone back up to check the time.

Oh?  An admittance to his dashingly good looks?  He puffs out his chest and runs a finger up one of the hair horns, it’s a habit of his.  He definitely can work with this now.  He places one hand on one of the arm rests while cupping her cheek with the other hand.  “That so? You think I’m handsome?”  His thumb rubs against her increasingly warming cheek, “well I think you’re damn beautiful, cariño.”  His voice, despite the proud smile on his lips, is steady and soft.  It’s a tone he’s used with others, but it feels so personalized in the moment.

Her heart pounds in her ears- she partially wants to scoff at his use of a Spanish endearment, but she partially just wants to bask in his touch.  The light behind his head looks like a damn halo or something.  A break.  She’s heard of Thanos being rather free with the way he shows his… appreciation for his team.  She swallows hard, her mind now flashing with all the rumors she’s heard whispers of, all the things she’s seen people giggle about.  Fuck, fuck, fuck, her cheeks warm up more and more.

“I mean it- prettiest damn thing I’ve ever seen.” He continues, enjoying the way her skin flushes beneath his touch.  It’s not a real lie, she’s the prettiest woman he’s seen that he can recall.  The way her eyes search his and her hands clench up into fists at her sides.  Shit, he could get real used to the way she acts around him.  So damn sweet… “Yeah right.”

“Don’t doubt me, señorita.  I’m being honest as hell.”

A beat of silence before she shows the first real emotion besides annoyance with him.  A nice, albeit small, smile.  It makes his own smile soften from some proud, self satisfied smirk to a genuine grin.

“There we go, a smile like that looks like nice on you.”

“Shut up.”  She says without any venom in her voice.  She sits up straight as his hand falls from her face.  He kneels down in front of her, holding both her hands after she puts her phone down on the table.  

“Wanna tell me what's on your mind now, hm?”

“Thinkin’ about things I’ve heard.”

“About me, yeah?”

“Yeah.” That makes him nod, his hands gripping hers just a bit tighter.  He’s not upset, how could he be when he wears the way he fucks around like a badge of honor to a degree?   It’s more so… excitement.  He knows where this is going and it makes him lick his lips.  His cock twitches in the confines of his pants.  “What do you think about it?”  He knows he sounds cocky, but he doesn’t care.  He has a right to be cocky. “I think I want to be appreciated.”  Appreciated for…  what?  She doesn’t know, she doesn’t care, she just wants a break.  She deserves a damn break after all she’s been through. “Oh, señorita, I can do more than just appreciated a pretty thing like you keepin’ me company.”  He purrs, rubbing her knuckles.  “I wanna see your pussy, baby girl.  You down?”  There’s a heavy pause before she nods, biting her bottom lip and releasing his hands to tug her shorts off as she lifts her hips, they get discarded beside the chair.  He whistles at the sight of her panties hugging her so perfectly, it takes all of his self control to not rip them from her.  But he wants to take his sweet time with her, wants to draw out pretty lil moans from her lips and feel her fingers tangle up in his hair as she makes a mess all over his face before he puts his thick cock in her perfect cunt. “Spread those legs for me, baby girl.  Let me get you all relaxed and shit, the way a pretty thing like you should always be.”  He says soothingly, leaning in to breathe in her scent.  It’s heavenly, damn divine.  It makes his fucking mouth water as he licks her through her panties.  He loves the way she lets out an audible gasp, the way she slides a hand over her mouth like she’s gonna moan just from a lil kiss against her cunt through the dampening fabric. He slides his long fingers through the fabric crotch to tug them aside and lick a long stripe up her slit.  He groans, his eyes closing.  Fuck, what a perfect girl as her fingers on her free hand curls up into his soft hair.  His lips seal around her clit as he licks the sensitive bud while slowly pulling his fingers from the fabric to instead busy themselves with slipping into her sweet, clutching heat.  He groans as he slurps at her nub, loving the way her pretty pussy instantly sucks him in deeper as he begins to pump his fingers in and out.

“Fuck…” She breathes out, tugging his face closer to her heat.  She can’t get enough of his tongue on her clit or her fingers curling to massage her g-spot with expert ease.  It feels better than her own fingers.  Her ears barely pick up on the way his fabric audibly shifts and a new noise joins the sound of his fingers steadily pumping into her sweet heat and his lips around her clit- his free hand is pumping his dripping cock.  His thumb smears the pre-cum that’s beading from his tip along his head, which he focuses his attention on.  Goddamn she’s delicious as hell- he could spend forever tasting her sweet slick.

“Feel good, baby girl?”  He asks, pulling away from her clit.  Her eyes dart all over his face, he looks so damn perfect with a thin string of saliva connecting him to her most intimate parts. She nods before finding her voice, though it’s strained as he continues to work her spongy spot, “yes, fuck, you’re so good.”

He hums, licking his lips to break the string before leaning back in to lick and seal his lips around her clit once again.  It doesn’t take long for her to back to arch and her fingers to curl up almost painfully into his purple hair. “Coming- I’m coming, Thanos!”  She whines, her sweet nectar coating his chin, tongue, and fingers while he continues to work her cunt through her orgasm.  Barely coherent words leave her as he pushes her to the very edge of overstimulation.  He pulls away with a lopsided, damp grin as he grips his cock just a little bit tighter as he gives it full pumps from base to tip. “Such a good girl for me, cariño.” He says as he pulls his fingers and starts to lick her nectar from the digits.  “Now it’s my turn, yeah?  Gonna let me sink into this perfect pussy?” A needy noise falling from her lips is all she needs to hear for him to nod towards the couch he was lounging on earlier.  She wastes little time standing on trembling legs and walking over to the couch.  It’s comfortable, one she’s napped on before, so she has no qualms about getting fucked on it- the idea of staining with their mixed essence is the furthest thing from her mind, but that’s a problem for her future self.  When she lies back on the plush couch, he grins like a cat as he joins her. He takes his time to fully take in her state, the way her chest heaves with one leg over the low back of the couch and her other dangling from the side and she raises her hands upwards until he ducks his head down to kiss her as his hands work his pants and boxers down to his knees.  Her arms encircle his neck, pulling him closer and closer as he settles between her opened thighs.  He grunts against her lips at the contact of her wet cunt against his aching cock, resisting the urge to immediately slam into her.  He wants to- wants to feel that paradise squeeze the hell out of him, but he wants to cherish the sweet flutter of her walls.  One hand cups her cheek while the other rubs his cockhead through her slick before pressing into her.

“Fuck, cariño…” He breathes, pulling back just enough to watch her eyes as he sinks in slowly. He wants to see every microexpression as his cock presses in, in, in until their hips meet.  It’s hard for his own eyes to not roll back in his head, he’s been in any tight cunts and asses but in his head, this is surely in the top ten at the very least.  “Feels like you’re squeezing the hell outta me, baby girl.  So fuckin’ good…”

She doesn’t answer, just pulls his face back down until his forehead rests on her’s.  Her lips are parted in the best moans that he’s ever fucking heard, better than any beat he’s done for sure.  When she finally manages out a whimpery Thanos, please, her growls and buries his face in her neck.  He’s not gonna last long, fuck- the way he can feel her wetness seeping around his cock and dripping down his damn balls is driving his crazy.  His hips start moving faster, harder, more desperate. “Yeah, girl? Please what?”

“Don’t pull out.”

How is he supposed to last when she says that?  He bites into the shoulder of her shirt to keep himself from being so loud, damn he wishes they were spread out on his bed so he could be as loud as he wants to be.  “You sure?”

“Mhm, please, I-I need it.  Need your cum.”

Oh, oh shit, he wants to give it to her.  Needs to give it to her.  He can feel his orgasm building rapidly at the idea of seeing his thick seed leak from her.  He’ll toss her a few dollars for plan B, he doesn’t want to pull out of her slick heat that’s for damn sure.  “You’ll get it, baby girl, fuck- you’re gonna get it.” The air around them is awash with the sounds of them fucking and he can’t get enough of it.  Maybe she’ll come over some time and let him record them fucking; the video would be better than any damn porn he’s seen.  He needs to get her off again, needs to feel her milk him goddamn dry.  He rubs her clit with the pad of his thumb, pulling away from her neck to stare down at her.  “Come again for me, señorita.  Need to feel you let go one more time.  Do it, baby girl, I know you got it in your.” She doesn’t need more encouragement, not when his eyes are locked on hers while his cock pulses in her tight cunt and his thumb moves in perfect sync.  Her fingers curl up tight in his hair as her legs close around him, a gasp leaving her before she cries out his name so sweetly.  There is it, there’s that perfect feeling he needed. He follows quickly after, closing his eyes as his brows knit together in bliss.  He tries in vain to pump his hips but they’re frozen in her heat as he pumps his seed deep into her just like she wanted- just like she needed.

He presses kisses up and down her neck, rubbing her side gently as they both come down from their highs.  He pulls out, sitting back on his knees to hold her folds apart to watch the way his load dribbles out of her and onto the couch.  Good one, Thanos.  He would snap a picture, but consent and all that shit.  He may have a one track mind sometimes but he’s gonna respect her boundaries.  He does reach over to grab his phone, though just to get her number when she’s able to talk.  This isn’t gonna be just a singular instance, nah, he’s sure of it.

[dakusan]

📁 ASK DUMP 𓆩🩸𓆪 | 03 JULY 2025

Welcome back to the velvet-lined cathedral of chaos, thirst, and feral mythos. We are gathered here today, under blood moons and broken morals, to crack open the vault—because y’all? Have lost your damn minds. Again. And I love you for it.

From soulmate blood-bonds gone wrong to doctor coat filth, from dream manipulation to desk-bending professor Hyunjin, today’s inbox was a spiritual exorcism of horny, hungry, hysterically brilliant asks—and I’m here to feast.

As always: 🧛‍♀️ We honor the lore. 🧛 We protect the safe space. 🧛‍♂️ We serve unholy cunt.

Now sharpen your fangs, lace your corsets, and take a deep breath.

Let’s get into it.

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🦕 ANON LOGGED: "Hyunjin fucks like he choreographs — you're not surviving the final act."

OH 🦕 ANON... it was you, and yes. I do sometimes clean up asks just a tiny bit if the flow gets funky — only ever to enhance, never to distort. So if I gave your brain a sexy little editorial polish: you’re welcome, I’m feral, and it’s mutual. 😌🫡💋

Now about this 3AM Hyunjin spiral…

“it’s like a dance to him and you’re his favorite partner”

HELLO????? That is actually the most devastatingly hot and romantic thing I’ve ever read. He would absolutely fuck like it’s choreo. Not performative — immersive. Like his body exists to move with yours, to draw sound out of you like melody. Like every stroke has a rhythm, every snap of his hips hits a beat only the two of you can hear.

He'd murmur against your mouth, “Stay with me. Keep up, baby,” …as if you’re not already trembling, clutching him, trying to match the tempo of his love-soaked destruction.

He dances with his whole soul — why would he fuck any different?

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🖤 nojerama logged: "your writing dragged me into the skz fandom and now i’m emotionally compromised—thanks i guess 🥲"

AWWWW NOJERAMA 🥺💖 welcome welcome welcome to the SKZ cult—I mean fandom 🩸✨🖤

The fact that my chaotic, feral little fics helped pull you into the Stay vortex??? I am HONORED. Like actually squealing in a corner.

Also, thank you sm for the kind words — “master of your craft” is sending me into orbit 😭 I’m just out here frothing over vampires and trying to keep this corner of the internet fun, safe, and utterly deranged.

Wishing you the best intro era ever. May your bias wreckers multiply and your playlists overflow 🩷🖤🩷

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🎀 ANON LOGGED: “what happens if you bite vampire!skz?”

You came in here talking about biting vampires like it’s not going to get you thrown to the mattress with your soul halfway devoured?? Be serious. Be so serious. That’s cuteness aggression to you—but to them? That’s an invitation. A trigger. A signal. You nibble on a vamp’s arm and expect to walk away? Baby, you’re staying right there. On your knees or on your back, take your pickThank you 🎀 anon for this unhinged masterpiece of an ask

⸺⟡⸺

🩸 If You Bit Vampire!Chan

He freezes. And then he groans — deep in his throat, head tipping back as if you just opened a valve inside him. You thought it was playful? Cute aggression? Not to him. Your teeth grazed him, and now his pupils are blown wide, blood stirring like wildfire in his veins.

“You wanna play like that, baby?” he rasps. “You forget what I am?”

He pins you down so gently you almost don't feel it—until you realize you can’t move. His fangs peek just slightly from under his lip. “One more time,” he whispers against your neck, “and I swear I’ll ruin you.” Spoiler: you do, and he does.

🩸 If You Bit Vampire!Minho

Smirks. Darkly. A low, feline sound escapes his chest, and he tilts his head like a predator who just spotted prey trying to bite back. He lets you—at first. Then grabs your jaw.

“Mm. Thought you were soft. Guess I was wrong.”

Suddenly you’re not on top anymore. His hands are bruising, his gaze unreadable. He kisses you like he’s claiming territory and murmurs, “My turn now.” You regret nothing.

🩸 If You Bit Vampire!Changbin

Startled. He gasps—like you bit his soul. Then? Immediate chaos. His strength surges. He grabs your thighs and slams you into his lap, muttering,

“Oh my god… You’re gonna kill me—don’t do that unless you want me to lose control.”

He’s panting. Whimpering. Torn between wanting to stay sweet and needing to devour you. You bit him and now he’s short-circuiting with need.

🩸 If You Bit Vampire!Hyunjin

He shivers. Shivers, eyes fluttering shut. For someone so composed, he falls apart at the smallest bite. Especially on his shoulder, his collarbone, his wrist. It undoes him.

“You… you can’t just do that,” he breathes, shaking. “You don’t know what it does to me.”

He holds your face gently, forehead pressed to yours like he’s trying to calm himself down. He can’t. He kisses you like your mouth is salvation and lets out the most sinful sound when you do it again.

🩸 If You Bit Vampire!Jisung

Breaks. Down. Immediately. Loudest gasper of the group.

“Did you just—holy shit, no, wait—do that again. Please. No actually—fuck.”

He spirals. You’re laughing, and he’s gripping your hips like he’s in danger. “You’re evil,” he moans, eyes fluttering. “I can’t believe you just bit me. I think I love you.” You bite again. He bites back. Everyone wins.

🩸 If You Bit Vampire!Felix

Soft gasp. Blushes. Hard. Like, his freckles are the only part of him not pink right now.

“That… that was really cute. And hot. And cute.”

He covers his face. Then peeks through his fingers and says, “Can I bite you back?” in the sweetest voice possible. You say yes. He latches to your neck. Your bones melt.

🩸 If You Bit Vampire!Seungmin

Confused. Then mildly offended. Then:

“You bit me? Are you serious—do you know how much restraint I use around you already?”

He doesn’t react dramatically. But you feel the shift. His grip is tighter. His kisses are sharper. When he finally does bite you, it’s deep. Final. Not playful. “Two can play this game,” he mutters, breath hot at your jaw.

🩸 If You Bit Vampire!Jeongin

Oh, you just awakened something. He licks his lips slowly. Smirks.

“That all you got?”

Now it’s a challenge. He leans in, daring you to do it again. “I like you a little feral,” he whispers. “Bite harder next time.” You do. And then he does. And then you don’t get out of bed for hours.

⸺⟡⸺

Thank you 🎀 anon for this unhinged masterpiece of an ask. Bite responsibly (or don’t). Just know: once your teeth are on them, it’s already over. For you. For them. For the bed frame 💋🦇

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�� ANON LOGGED: “Holy bloodlines, marble towers, and one vampire she should never have kissed.”

Oh you wanna build lore with me? You wanna throw holy oil on the marble floors of Vatican cathedrals and carve out bloodlines raised on Latin war chants and cruciform daggers?? You wanna hand me a soulmate hunter princess who was trained to slit throats but ends up backed against an altar by the one vampire she was born to destroy—and crave?

Yeah. Sit down. Buckle in.

🔞Warnings: Explicit smut (MDNI), Vampire x human dynamic, Enemies to lovers / intense power play, Religious themes & sacred imagery, Bonded/soulmate tension with feral dynamics, Dirty talk / degradation, Chan is unhinged. Reader is worse, Sacred smut. Holy filth. Vatican enemies-to-lovers madness, please don't be offended by this, it is purely fiction, don't wanna insult anyone

⸺⟡⸺

You meet him under the vaulted apse of a decommissioned chapel in Trastevere.

His coat is black, not leather, but older — raw silk lined in blood-colored satin. One fang flashes behind a mocking grin as he steps into the stained light filtering through a fractured Madonna.

“You gonna stab me, princess?” He says it like a challenge. Like a dare. Like he wants you to.

You do stab him. Right under the ribs, silver-inlaid blade angled up toward his unbeating heart. He moans. The bastard moans.

“That all you got?” he purrs in your ear, grabbing your wrist and yanking you into his chest like he didn’t just take three inches of hunter steel to the gut. “Thought Vatican girls were trained better.”

“Get fucked,” you spit.

His eyes glitter. “Oh, I will.”

And he does.

You end up pinned to the altar your grandmother once bled her vows on — dress ripped at the seams, thighs shaking around Chan’s narrow hips. He ruts into you like he’s trying to exorcise something, like your cunt is the curse he was marked with centuries ago.

“I’m your enemy, you filthy fucking bloodsucker—”

“You’re my bonded,” he snarls, dragging his fangs over your neck without sinking in. “I can smell it every time you breathe. You wanna kill me, sweetheart? Then why are you this wet?”

You hate him. You hate the way he fucks like vengeance. Like domination. Like he’s waited three lifetimes to ruin you.

And you let him. Because the second he pulls your hips down on his cock with a growl that shatters you—

You believe in sin again.

Your thighs are bruised with the imprint of his rings. Your breathless gutted sobs echo off the apse.

And when he finally bites you — not to turn, just to taste — you cry out like absolution.

He licks the blood from his teeth.

“Blessed are the damned,” he whispers, “for theirs is the kingdom of you.”

⸺⟡⸺

Thank you for this blessed ask. You're also absolutely added to the emoji roster, welcome home 🔮—now stay sharp, the order is watching. Keep the asks coming 💋🦇

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🕷️ ANON LOGGED: "SKZ vampires mid-stroke when you deadpan: 'Is that all you got?'"

You are SO real for this because let’s be honest — nothing would ruin a vampire’s god complex faster than “that’s it?” mid-stroke. Or maybe it makes them go feral. 😏 Either way, you’ve just created a bloodbath of ego destruction and unholy overcompensation, and I thank you for your service

⸺⟡⸺

💥 SKZ VAMPIRES WHEN YOU SAY “IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?” MID-FUCK

Bang Chan

You whispered it. Not moaned. Not cried. Whispered. And now you're folded in half with your knees near your ears and your hips lifted, pinned by the sheer force of his ruined ego. “You wanna test me now?” he growls, sweat dripping down your throat as his fangs graze your collarbone. “Alright, baby. Let’s see if you’re still talking when I’m done.” You die. Literally. You pass out. He waits. Then does it again when you wake up.

Lee Know

Oh, you want to play games? Say less. He freezes — buried inside you, still, cold, unreadable. You say his name. Again. And again. Silence. Then he leans in, smirks by your ear, and whispers: “Beg me to stop when I finally give it to you.” You don’t beg. You scream.

Changbin

Goes red. Like ears, neck, chest. He was being gentle. Thought you were fragile. Not anymore. Suddenly he’s tossing you around like a weightless ragdoll and pounding you so deep the headboard cracks. “You asked for this—you said it first!”

Hyunjin

You say it and he laughs. Actually leans back and laughs like he’s offended on behalf of art itself. Then his eyes flash. Veins light up. And suddenly it’s performance time. Rhythm in his hips like a dance, blood trailing down your skin like warpaint, his hand gripping your throat as he leans in with a sneer: “Say it again.” You can’t.

Han

Cracks. Fully loses composure. “You—HUH?! Nah, you did not just say—” Cue 2 minutes of flustered yelling while you gasp in laughter. Then he gets quiet. Now you’re sobbing into the mattress and he’s feral whispering in your ear: “Still bored, sweetheart?”

Felix

Entire aura shifts. “Oh, angel. I was being kind.” Then he gets mean. Snaps your wrists into the mattress, fucks you with that terrifying calm that makes your brain go static. You wake up half an hour later with his arms around you and his lips to your temple: “Did that feel like enough?”

Seungmin

Smirks. Smirks. Does nothing at first. Keeps it slow. Controlled. Icy. “Is that all I got?” he repeats. “Okay.” Then two seconds later you’re being folded, bit, filled, wrecked, broken, edged for an hour straight, and he’s cooing, “Still got complaints, doll?” You apologize. He doesn't accept.

Jeongin

Stops. Laughs. Slaps your thigh. “You got a death wish?” And now it’s over. He fucks you so deep your vision blurs, your legs shake, and your thighs stay bruised for three days. “No one’s ever said that to me,” he growls, dragging fangs over your pulse. “Wanna be the last?”

⸺⟡⸺

This ask?? A god-tier move. Thank you for dropping this cursed little thought in my inbox — I’m still screaming. SKZ vampires are dramatic, egotistical, sex-drunk gods and I just know one “is that it?” would have them committing actual war crimes in bed.

🖤 Please never stop thinking like this 💋🦇

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🦔 ANON LOGGED: “SKZ as pent-up doctors fucking you in their white coats using filthy medical lingo — the kind you don’t even understand but moan for anyway.”

🦔 ANON COMING IN HOT with one of the filthiest, most chaotic concepts wrapped in respectable white coats and sterile gloves. How dare you. How perfect of you. This is that niche genre of doctor roleplay but ten times dirtier because—SKZ actually being doctors? And you just… innocently visiting?

Let’s scrub in. 🧼

⚠️ WARNINGS: Explicit sexual content (18+), Public/semi-public sex (exam room, call room, closet), Medical roleplay + doctor/patient power dynamics, Light degradation, dirty talk, and clinical language, Implication of unprofessional conduct (consensual but very NSFW), Penetrative sex, Slight overstimulation, teasing, and brat-taming themes, DOES NOT depict safe or realistic hospital protocol — pure fantasy

⸺⟡⸺

💉 SKZ DOCTORS FUCKING YOU IN THE EXAM ROOM BECAUSE THEY’RE TOO PENT-UP

Bang Chan — Cardiothoracic Surgeon

You're just dropping off lunch. A sandwich. A juice box. “Thanks, baby,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple— But then he’s pulling you into the call room, pinning you against the counter, lips grazing your neck. “Do you know what tachycardia feels like?” he whispers. “Let me induce it.” And then it’s gloves off, coat on, stethoscope dangling as he bends you over the sink. You hear him muttering about pulse points. You don’t understand a word. You moan anyway.

Lee Know — Trauma Consultant

It starts with you sitting on the edge of the hospital bed. He’s just finished stitching up a patient. Then his hand slides up your thigh. “You’re not on my chart,” he hums, “but I can squeeze you in for a… pressure exam.” You're stripped bare in seconds. He lays you back, fingers in your mouth, whispering filth behind his surgical mask. “Open wider. Wider. Let me assess.” Every thrust is controlled. Clinical. Cruel. You leave bruised and with discharge instructions.

Hyunjin — Neurosurgery Resident

You’re curled up in his chair, yawning, scrolling. He’s still in his white coat, sipping black coffee. “You know,” he murmurs, “the human body has 7,000 nerve endings. But the ones I care about…” He slides two fingers between your thighs. “...Are right here.” Suddenly you’re bent over his desk. Papers flying. His hips slam in with every anatomical term he can remember. “Pelvic tilt. Cervical extension. Neural overstimulation.” You’re not even sure he’s speaking Korean anymore.

Han — Emergency Department Attending

He’s grinning the second you walk into the ER lounge. Pulls you into the supply closet and locks it. “You came to visit?” he teases. “Aww, baby, you’re about to leave on a gurney.” Then he’s fucking you against the crash cart. “Vitals: ruined. Pupils: blown. Cognitive function: demolished.” He makes you count backwards from ten. You reach seven. He records your heartbeat. While railing you. He gets paged. Doesn’t stop.

Felix — Anesthesiologist

You sit on his lap in the break room. He’s still got his clipboard open, writing post-op notes. “You know,” he purrs, “if I time it right, I can make your body go numb... just everywhere but here.” His fingers slip between your legs like he’s testing reflexes. Then he flips you over, one hand still typing on the tablet, and rails you slow, deep, nerve-deadening. “You’ll be sore. You’ll limp. But I promise—no memory loss.”

Seungmin — Diagnostic Specialist

Deadpan. Clinical. Terrifying. “Your dopamine’s low,” he mutters, pushing you onto the table. “Let’s see if we can fix that.” Gloves on. Glasses sliding down his nose. He says nothing else—just spreads you open and studies you like a patient case file. “Hmm. Contraction here. Spasm there.” He makes you orgasm and mutters “noted.” You think he finished? He turns you over and snaps his gloves again. “Still inconclusive. Test 2.”

Jeongin — Internal Medicine Resident

He doesn’t even close the exam room door all the way. “I’m on break,” he whispers. “You came at your own risk.” Then he shoves your skirt up and fucks you on top of the exam table. He’s talking through gritted teeth about clinical ethics, how this is so illegal, how you’re gonna get him fired. But his fingers are in your mouth and his hips are ruthless. He finishes, then casually goes, “You need follow-up care. Same time tomorrow?”

⸺⟡⸺

🦔 ANON… you are SO real for this. You have unlocked an entire hospital AU from hell in my brain and I can’t thank you enough. Now I need an actual doctor!SKZ hospital

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🍄 ANON LOGGED: “What if reader has a wet dream… but it’s not just a dream — it’s bf!vampire!SKZ controlling it on purpose?”

HELLOOO 🍄 ANON you sneaky little pervert (affectionate) — this is such a feral idea and I am obsessed with it. Dream invasion?? Mind control??? Cocky supernatural boyfriend getting off on making you squirm in your sleep?? YES. YES YES YES.

Let’s go dream-walking. Let’s go ruin your sheets

⚠️ WARNINGS: NSFW / SMUT (18+), Dream manipulation, Wet dreams, Mind control (consensual via established bond), Dom!vampire dynamics, Marking / scent claiming, Power play, Subspace & afterglow, Cocky boy behavior, Filthy language, Psychic bond kink, Mild overstimulation, Sleep-fucking / lucid dreaming themes, Minor corruption kink vibes (in some), Jeongin is especially unhinged

⸺⟡⸺

🌙 BF!VAMPIRE!SKZ CONTROLLING YOUR WET DREAMS — AND KNOWING IT

BANG CHAN — “Whimper for me, even in your sleep.”

He lays next to you, propped on one arm, watching your face twist in pleasure. He knows exactly what you’re seeing. He’s showing it to you — the mirror, the collar, the way his voice wraps around your throat as he ruins you slow. In reality, you’re grinding your thighs together, moaning faintly. And he just smirks. “Such a needy little thing, even in your dreams.” He doesn’t touch you. Not yet. He waits for you to wake up soaked and shaking, then leans down to whisper: “Did you think that was your own mind? No, baby. I fed it to you.”

MINHO — “You were begging for it, sweetheart. While you slept.”

You dreamt of him. Of his hands on your throat. His breath on your ear. Of being bent over the table, sobbing out his name— And when you wake up, soaked and breathless, he’s there. Smirking. “Oh?” he says softly. “You thought that was your own fantasy?” He slides his hand under the blanket, into your panties. “Poor thing. You don’t even know when I’m in your head.” Then he matches the rhythm from your dream exactly. Because he wrote it.

CHANGBIN — “You sound so pretty when you cry in your sleep, baby. Keep going.”

He’s sitting at the edge of the bed, shirtless and still — watching your body twitch under the sheets. He can hear it. Your heartbeat fluttering, your cunt clenching, the way you breathe out his name so sweet and broken even as you dream. He gave you this one. Crafted it just for you — slow kisses over a marble countertop, his fangs grazing your inner thighs, your wrists bound above your head. You don’t even realize you’re whining aloud until his hand presses flat over your belly, gentle pressure. “You think your body’s asking for me?” he whispers, low and amused. You wake up aching. Slick. Shaking. He just leans in, smirking against your neck. “Told you I’d ruin you without even touching you.”

HYUNJIN — “Every sound you made? I tasted it.”

He fed on you gently before bed, just enough to sync your heartbeat to his. Now you're asleep, cheeks flushed, breath hitching. In the dream? He’s tying your wrists with silk. Telling you you’re beautiful. Telling you to take it. You wake with tears in your eyes. Pleasure-shocked. And he’s already stroking your thighs, whispering, “I know, baby. I made it that good.” Then he leans in and hums against your ear, “You’re not just mine in this world. You’re mine in every plane.”

JISUNG — “I didn’t mean to—wait. Yes I did.”

He pretends it was an accident. Like he just slipped into your dream because of the bond. He’ll giggle when you wake up flushed and shaking. “Oops,” he grins. “You should’ve seen yourself. I made you say my name. Twice.” And when you whimper at him, he gasps dramatically. “Wanna go back in? I can really fuck you stupid this time.” And yes—he says this while palming himself under the covers.

FELIX — “Did you like that, baby? Want me to do it again tonight?”

He spoils you. Even in dreams. Lays you on silk sheets, worships you slow, drinks from your thighs while your body trembles. You wake gasping, and he’s already holding you—pressing soft kisses to your jaw, murmuring, “You looked so pretty. So perfect. I made you cum in your sleep.” And then, voice lower— “I can do it again. Want me to? Just say the word.”

SEUNGMIN — “You’re mine even in your subconscious.”

He controls your dreams like strings on a puppet. Ties you up in the astral plane. Makes you kneel. When you wake up fucked-out and ruined, he doesn’t stop you from catching your breath. He just pushes two fingers into you without a word. “I started it,” he mutters. “Now I’ll finish it.” And you realize—you’re still dreaming.

JEONGIN — “You thought that was your dream? Nah, sweetheart. That was me, balls-deep in your subconscious.”

He brags about it. Texts you in the morning: you were so loud last night When you ask what he means, he just grins. “You think dreams come from nowhere? Baby, I planted that fantasy like a seed.” Then he leans in close and mutters: “Next time? I’m not pulling out.”

⸺⟡⸺

🍄 ANON YOU ABSOLUTE MENACE. Keep your dreams locked up tight, or bf!vamp!SKZ will break in and fuck them 💋🦇

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🐈 ANON LOGGED: “Best friend Seungmin teaches you baseball—but being close to you? His composure crumbles. You’re just trying to hit the ball. He’s trying not to fall in love.”

OHHHH this made me smile so wide you have no idea. Best friend Seungmin in quiet panic mode over how good you smell? How cute you look in his hoodie??? Yeah. It's going in the Sunday Softdrops queue. I’m picturing sun-warm skin, laughter echoing across an empty field, and a kiss that tastes like Gatorade and delayed confessions. Thank you for trusting me with this one, 🐈 — we’re gonna hit it out the park together 🖤

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

🫦 sheerfreesia007 LOGGED: “They don’t stop until your voice breaks—raspy, ruined, gone. That’s the finish line. Or maybe just the halfway mark.”

My most villainous flower, I felt this ask like a hands-around-the-throat whisper. That kind of obsession—measuring satisfaction by how hoarse you sound? That’s not just hedonism, it’s strategy. It’s pleasure as conquest. And you’re their battlefield

⸺⟡⸺

Bang Chan is methodical about it. He coaxes moans like he's composing a symphony—slow, soft at first, then louder, rawer, until your voice cracks on his name. When it finally does? He kisses your throat and whispers, “That’s it, baby. That’s the sound I was waiting for.”

Lee Know doesn’t stop when your voice gives—he tests it. Pulls another moan just to hear how rough it sounds, low and breathy like a ghost of itself. He looks proud. A little feral. "You sound broken," he says, pressing kisses to your neck. “Sing it again.”

Changbin takes it personally. Like a mission. Every time you whimper or gasp too loud, he smirks and goes deeper. He’ll stretch it over hours, whispering, “Still got some voice left, princess? Let me fix that.”

Hyunjin wants to ruin you for art. Fingers in your hair, lips at your jaw, “Keep talking. I want to hear how wrecked you sound.” He doesn’t stop until your voice trembles on every syllable and he has to carry you to the bath, still throbbing.

Han is obsessed with the contrast. Your confident voice fading into broken sounds, rasps, croaks of his name. "Holy shit," he moans, “You sound so gone. So pretty when you’re wrecked.”

Felix praises you through it. “Doing so good for me, baby. Wanna hear that voice go soft.” Every ruined gasp makes him kiss you harder, until even your moans are silent, just trembling breaths. He finishes with your throat bruised, kissed, adored.

Seungmin leans in to your ear after hours of teasing and fucking and just smiles. “You can’t even ask me to stop, huh?” His voice is velvet-dagger soft. “Guess I’ll keep going, then.”

Jeongin laughs when you try to speak and nothing comes out. Not mean—just delighted. “Oh? What happened, baby? Don’t tell me I fucked all your words away?”

⸺⟡⸺

I hope your voice recovers soon, angel. Thank you for your offering at the altar. Your villain queen hears you 🖤🦇💋

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🔪 Anon Logged: "What if the blood doll was gaslit by a Normal vampire—lied to, told they were 'defective,' and made to doubt the bond—when in truth, they were a soulmate... to SKZ?"

Before we even reach the boys—let’s clarify:

That kind of lie? That level of manipulation? Saying “You’re broken” when in fact you’re just with the wrong one? That’s not just toxic. It’s a sacrilege. A violation of something cosmic.

In this universe, soulmate bonds are rare, holy, and undeniable. For someone to abuse that—especially a Normal vampire—is deliberate cruelty. They knew you weren’t theirs. But you were sweet. Addictive. And lonely. So they broke you down to keep you.

Now enter: the right one

⸺⟡⸺

Bang Chan

He feels it the second you walk into the room. That thing inside him—feral, ancient—snaps taut. He sees it in your posture: the tension, the self-doubt, the way you flinch at praise. “You’re not defective,” he says softly, but his aura is monstrous. “They broke the mirror so you wouldn’t recognize your reflection.” And then he finds the vampire who hurt you. And he doesn’t just kill him. He deconstructs him. “You tried to rewrite fate,” he growls, voice split like thunder. “So I’ll rewrite your bones.”

Lee Minho

He doesn’t speak. He just kneels in front of you and presses his forehead to yours. When your soul thrums in resonance, when your breath catches like instinct—he knows. “They made you feel small,” he whispers. “Let me make you seen.” He will personally track down the Normal vamp. It’s not about rage. It’s about ritual. You don’t steal fate and walk away breathing. His execution will be elegant, surgical, inevitable.

Seo Changbin

He doesn’t care that he’s not Abnormal. The moment he hears what was done to you, he stands up, cracking his knuckles. “He gaslit you out of your own soulbond? Nah. I’m gonna show him what 'real' feels like.” Changbin’s protection is immovable. Once he confirms you’re his soulmate, he’s on his knees kissing your scars—and then on his feet, fists clenched, saying: “Point me toward the fucker who made you feel less.”

Hwang Hyunjin

His fury is quiet. You’re explaining, stammering, apologizing for being “too sensitive”—and his expression shatters. “No,” he says, icy. “No one ever gets to convince you your instincts are wrong again.” He will look that Normal vampire in the eyes and smile—just once. “Next time you feel a soulmate bond? Hope it’s your own death calling.”

Han Jisung

Oh, he’s dangerous when he’s smiling. “You really convinced them they were defective?” he says, voice light, tilting his head. “Funny thing, though. Turns out they’re mine.” And you don’t see him leave. But hours later, the Normal vampire is found half-drained, symbols carved into his skin like confessions. Han returns to you with blood on his lips and a lollipop. “Feeling better, baby? Wanna hear what he screamed last?”

Felix

He sobs when he feels the bond—because you flinch. From him. But when you whisper, “He said I was hard to love,” he loses it. The air in the room changes. “He lied. I can feel you like sunlight in my veins.” Felix burns with quiet rage. He doesn’t kill the Normal vampire. He makes him beg. On his knees. For every lie. For every flinch. For every time you cried wondering what was wrong with you. “You’re not broken,” he breathes, cradling you. “You were just meant for me.”

Seungmin

“Oh,” he says, reading the file. “So he used soulbond rhetoric to entrap them.” He closes the folder. Then he looks up and smiles. “That’s not science. That’s psychological warfare. Which makes it my jurisdiction.” Seungmin will legally, magically, and physically dismantle the bastard. Every whisper of control is turned back like a blade. “You don’t know what a real soulmate feels like?” he purrs in your ear. “Let me teach you.”

Yang Jeongin

At first, he’s gentle. “Hey,” he says, touching your cheek. “You feel like mine.” And when you tell him what the other vampire said— “Oh,” he murmurs. “He lied to you.” He disappears for three days. When he returns, there’s blood on his boots and fire in his eyes. “I cut out his tongue so he never lies to anyone again,” he says simply. “He’ll heal. But not soon.” And then he holds you like you’re made of fate. Because you are.

⸺⟡⸺

This prompt was brilliant. It threads abuse recovery, soulmate redemption, and cosmic justice all in one—and you’re absolutely right. Abnormals wouldn’t just be mad. They’d unleash hell.

Thank you for the ask, angel. You are not defective. You were just meant for better 🦇💋

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🦋 ANON LOGGED: “Menstrual pain got me curled like a shrimp, but my brain? Fully running horny laps. Dry sex with vampire!SKZ. Messy. Desperate. Ruin me. Thoughts?”

you said dry sex and my brain said: GRINDING. THROUGH. CLOTHES. desperate. teeth on lips. slick stains blooming in expensive fabric. hands on hips like bruises, fangs glinting just barely close to skin. needy gasps. belt buckles. the sound of denim dragging between thighs. the kind of friction that makes you sob before anyone’s even naked.

AND YOU THINK THEY WON’T LOSE THEIR MINDS???

nah. vampire!SKZ is out here growling against your throat like

“Can’t even touch you properly and you’re already soaking— what a mess, darling. look what you do to me.”

like sorry but if you think Chan or Hyunjin or Jeongin wouldn’t fuck your whole soul with just their hips and breath and pressure alone?

you’re wrong. respectfully. they’d destroy you dry. AND THEN thank you for the privilege.

thank you for the ask, my dearly suffering 🦋 anon. may your uterus find peace and your vampire dreams find chaos. keep the filth coming 🦇💋

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Anon Logged: “Vamp!SKZ takes you on vacation to their secluded Caribbean cottage?” (+ tried to claim the jellyfish emoji—sorry bb, it’s taken! let’s find you a new one. something ocean-coded and soft for our coastal sweetheart!)

🌊 Before we sink in — can I just say: this is SO hot? You knew exactly what you were doing when you said “secluded Caribbean cottage”. You didn’t say hotel. You didn’t say villa. You said cottage. As in: barely-wired, dark-wood, mosquito-netted, candle-lit, blood-warmed, ocean-kissed, nowhere-to-run-from-his-mouth cottage.

🛑 Warnings: NSFW / 18+ content, Bloodplay (vampire feeding during sex), Rough sex, public sex (implied beach scenes), Biting, marking, light bondage (Lee Know), Soft dom / hard dom dynamics, Voyeurism (mirror play – Seungmin), Slight lingerie destruction (lmao), Hypnotic vibes (Hyunjin’s art scene), Ferality. Everywhere. Sun-drenched. Moisturized. Blood-drunk.

⸺⟡⸺

Bang Chan

He carries you through the door and doesn’t put you down. Just sets you on the edge of the counter, pulls your swimwear to the side, and fucks you while the stove preheats. “Dinner can wait,” he rasps, saltwater still drying on his skin. He feeds on you after. Gently, carefully, licking your shoulder while your thighs shake around his waist. The ocean breeze hits your back. His mouth hits your throat. You scream into the sunset.

Lee Know

He takes you snorkeling. Pretends it’s innocent. But in the water, he drags you under—kissing you, biting your lip, teasing. That night, he ties your wrists to the canopy bed and says: “You wanted to play, kitten. Now hold still while I make the ocean jealous.”

Changbin

Beach days, sunset fucks on the sand, his tongue in your mouth as waves break over your calves. “I haven’t fed all day,” he grits, fangs glinting, “but you’re sweeter than anything I packed.” He eats you out on the deck. Twice. Leaves you sun-kissed and bite-bruised. Then draws a heart in sunscreen on your stomach like a menace.

Hyunjin

He sketches you naked in the sun before touching you. Later, he lowers you into the outdoor tub and drinks from you in warm water, whispering poetry in your ear. “My baby,” he breathes, licking your blood like wine. “You taste like heatstroke and honey.”

Han

He insists on fucking you on every surface in the cottage. The hammock? Done. The porch swing? Twice. The sand? He lays his shirt down like a blanket—then ruins you on it. “Don’t worry,” he laughs, “I left blood bags in the fridge. But I’ll only be drinking from you.”

Felix

He wakes you up with kisses—and his hands already between your thighs. “You okay, baby?” he says softly. “You were whimpering in your sleep. Thought I’d help.” Then he feeds while you cum. Shakes through it. Whimpers into your skin. You taste like paradise, and he treats you like a prayer.

Seungmin

“Oh? You packed lingerie for me?” he grins. You don’t even get to wear it—he rips it off and feeds on your inner thigh before your legs stop shaking. He fucks you in front of the mirror. Makes you watch. “Sunburned and sore. Just how I like you.”

Jeongin

He’s sweet the whole trip. Until you tease him. “Oh, you think I can’t make you cum six times?” He spends the night proving it. Licks you open. Sinks into you slow. Drinks you while you scream. “Caribbean cottage, huh?” he pants. “Bet you regret asking to come now.”

⸺⟡⸺

This was a GORGEOUS ask. Vacay vamp sex is the summer serotonin we all needed. Thank you for sending this in. Askbox open. I’ll see you at the beach 💋🦇

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🧋 ANON LOGGED: “What if Hyunjin was your devastatingly hot professor and you failed the midterm because you couldn’t stop staring at him? Now you’re bent over his desk for...a private lesson.”

🧋 anon… you knew what you were doing when you sent this. You want desk fuckery, academic corruption, and the soft hiss of “You’ve been a distraction since day one”? WELL. OKAY. Let’s talk.

📎 Warnings: NSFW / 18+, Professor!Hyunjin x college student!reader, Power dynamics (consensual), Spanking, fingering, desk sex, Dirty talk, degradation + praise, Exhibitionism risk (semi-public office), Slight dom!Hyunjin, strict but so into you, Reader is an absolute mess for him

⸺⟡⸺

The office door locks with a quiet click behind you.

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything at first—just looks at you. Glasses low on his nose, that white button-down rolled to his elbows, a hint of Versace cologne lingering in the air. His jaw is tight. One hand flexes against the wooden edge of the desk.

Your test is in his other hand. A fat red “D+” scrawled across the front.

“You know what bothers me?” he says, voice low, controlled, like you haven’t been tormenting each other with eye contact for weeks. “You're smart. Brilliant, even. So what the fuck happened here?”

You try to explain, stammer something about not sleeping, about studying late—but he cuts you off.

“No,” he murmurs, stepping close enough that you have to tilt your head to keep eye contact. “You weren’t distracted by the material. You were distracted by me. Weren’t you?”

Your silence confirms it.

His fingers hook under your chin, tilting your face up. “Eyes glazed, thighs clenched, chewing that pen in my lecture like you wanted me to bend you over the damn desk right there.” He chuckles—dark, dangerous. “You didn’t even try to hide it.”

Before you can respond, he spins you by the hips, palms flat against the desk now, your breath catching as he steps up behind you.

“Keep them there,” he orders.

You obey.

There’s no warning—his hand slaps your ass, and you jolt forward with a soft gasp. He hums at the way you arch. "That's one for zoning out during class."

Another slap. “One for biting your lip every time I picked up the whiteboard marker.”

He slides your panties down your thighs.

“And one for failing the test.”

Then he sinks two fingers into you—slick, wet, embarrassingly ready—and growls into your ear, “But don’t worry, baby. I’m going to make sure you never forget this lesson.”

The pace he sets is deliberate. Cruel, even.

His fingers curl just right—knuckles brushing your walls as he fucks them in and out of you, slow enough to keep you begging, deep enough to make your knees tremble. You bite down on a moan, hips twitching back into his touch, and that’s when he tsks—low and disappointed.

"Didn't I say," he growls, dragging his teeth down the shell of your ear, "keep them there?"

His free hand presses flat between your shoulder blades, pinning you to the desk. Your cheek hits the wood, cool against your flushed skin. You whimper. His fingers don’t stop.

"You think this is about the grade?" he murmurs, voice velvet-wrapped steel. "This is about you showing up to my lecture in that fucking skirt like you wanted to ruin me. Looking at me like you knew I’d eventually snap."

You can't think. Can’t breathe. His fingers fuck into you with no mercy now, wet sounds echoing in the quiet office, obscene and unrelenting. Your slick coats his hand, drips down your thighs, and he drinks it in like a man starved.

"Oh, you like this, don’t you?" he breathes, lips brushing your nape. "The good girl act was just for show, huh? What would your little classmates say if they knew you were bent over your professor’s desk, soaking his fingers, begging for cock?"

Your moan betrays you.

He pulls his hand out.

You whine—high, desperate—but it dies in your throat the moment you hear his belt unbuckle. The soft clink of metal. The rustle of his slacks. You don’t even turn around. You can’t. You’re panting, already ruined.

He strokes himself once—twice—and then grabs your jaw, forcing you to look back at him.

“Beg for it.”

You hesitate—barely.

“Please,” you whisper, raw and shaky, “Professor… I need it. I’ll do anything, just—fuck me. Please.”

His cock slams into you in one thrust.

You choke on your own gasp. One hand claws for the edge of the desk, nails dragging down wood. He’s so deep—stretching, filling, punishing—and his grip is bruising on your waist.

Hyunjin doesn’t move right away. Just leans down, hot breath fanning across your neck as he groans, “That’s better. Now take your punishment like a good girl.”

Then he fucks you.

Hard.

Relentless.

Desk creaking. His hips snapping forward again and again. Your body jolting with every thrust. His name falls from your lips in breathless cries as he ruins you—sharp, brutal, perfect.

"Next time," he grits out, fucking you faster, deeper, filthier, "you’ll pass my test."

And if not? You already know how he’ll make you study.

⸺⟡⸺

🧋 anon, I am not okay because of you. You have permanently infected my brain with Professor Hwang brainrot. I hope you’re proud. Thank you for being degenerate with taste 🫡💋🦇

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lillymochilover LOGGED: “What about aging? Won’t the blood doll eventually die of old age?”

Babe. You’re not allowed to die. That’s the whole fucking point.

Do you seriously think they’re just gonna watch you grow old? Watch you wrinkle, wither, lose your fire, your blood, your mind? Are you insane? You think a vampire—especially SKZ—who’s already blood-bonded, scent-drunk, soul-entangled, ravenous for you on a molecular level… Is just gonna hold your hand while you fade?

No. They’ll destroy you. And then rebuild you. Not figuratively. Literally.

Because once the fear sets in—once your scent starts shifting subtly, once they catch the faintest chemical whisper of age or decay—it breaks them. And then it drives them.

🩸 Turning is inevitable.

Here's the truth:

No vampire wants a love with an expiration date. Not when they’ve burned through centuries just to find you.

You’re gonna get turned. You have to get turned. Because your vampire isn’t watching you die. They’re watching you become.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

If you made it to the end of this unhinged theological filth scroll disguised as an ask dump… congratulations, you’re already damned <3. Here’s a cookie 🍪. Here’s some water 💦. And here’s a very specific warning not to read this again in public unless you’re ready to bite your phone. Proud of you. You’ve earned your fangs today.

i love you. Protect your peace. Hydrate after smut.

Also, real talk— Lately I’ve been thinking of releasing all the 2024 albums I have so that I can finally, slowly, start releasing my 2025 ones… but idk?? Should I just drop them? Should I take it slow and let each one breathe?? Thoughts? Opinions? Screams into the void?? IDK HELP ME.

ANYWAYS, please—keep those asks coming. This circus runs on blood and brainrot. Thank you all, love you see you......... for filthy friday! 💋🦇

[thesharktanksdriver]

Devils May Love?: Vergils mixtape playlist

I’m spoiling yall with oneshots cause the newest part is taking me a bit to write. Have this instead

Links: masterlist, Dante playlist

Vergil was weird, that was something you had quickly come to terms with after his grand return with Dante from hell. The two of them coming back and Vergil for the first time in 20 ish years adjusting to humanity once more after denying himself it. It’s expected he’d be odd, hell you’d be a lot more surprised and unsettled if he wasn’t.

But with all that came the fact that communicating with Vergil was hard, but even harder was Vergil communicating with anyone, you included.

But this? Well this was odd even for his standards.

Placed neatly in a letter with a sapphire blue wax seal with his first initial (you didn’t even know he had one?) is a letter, or more accurately a list.

Expensive ink curled elegantly across nostalgic yellow paper that frayed at the edges and smelled of old books. Beautiful cursive displaying the names of songs and lyrics accompanying them. It’s written with care, with an intent to them meant to symbolize and communicate something.

That was a thing with Vergil you had come to notice. Rather than voicing stuff aloud (besides complaints about Dante) he communicated mostly through gestures, silent but deliberately telling in what he thought or wanted. Yet this? Well it kinda stumped you in what he meant or wanted from you. Which was increasingly vexing as you kept reading and rereading over the letter and its songs.

This was…well for a lack of a better word romantic?

Like this entire letter thing with the nice paper and wax seal was already something out of a Jane Austin esc period romance, but the songs and deliberately written lyrics were another level. And this is from Vergil, god damn Vergil of all people.

Was this a sign of something?

Like, you’d known he’s always been a bit weird with you even for his own standards but this? Well this was on a stratosphere to normal.

You scratch your head, rereading the songs and their lyrics again.

He picked a good selection, a lot of classics that you now realize is probably the only songs he’s remembered let alone heard in at least 20 years-

You pause. Going back to the other day you remember a distinct conversation you had with lady in the van with Vergil also conveniently there as well. It was a mission gone well, and you and her were reminiscing of old times back in high school as Nico began the drive back to DMC. The old shenanigans you’d both somehow get into was brought up, plus some old hobbies and habits you both had and-

“Making mixtapes!”

At one point lady brought up your old hobby of burning CD’s but especially of making mixtapes. You used to have to be sneaky about what music you listening to since you parents didn’t like you listening to “uncultured” and “filthy” music…aka anything besides classical music. Strict parents raise sneaky kids and for this time you weren’t the exception. You snuck making mixtapes with the first couple tracks being Bach or beethoven and then switched it to what you actually wanted.

You became quite good at making them to, it was a pretty fun hobby even if the anxiety of being caught kept making you feel like you were on pins and needles constantly for just enjoying music.

But you digress, he heard you talk about the mixtapes! That made a lot more sense.

It’s not like Vergil liked you, that would be ridiculous! He couldn’t even look you in the eye half the time. This was probably his weird convoluted attempt at asking you to make him a mixtape since he didn’t know how to ask for anything and he hasn’t heard music in like 20+ years in hell.

He’d rather walk halfway across the shop to get something Dante would’ve easily gotten him plus shoot himself in the foot 50x over than ever ask for help.

But you guess this is baby steps, or rather small steps when he thinks no one will notice.

Well you suppose while still being reasonably upset about what he did to Nero (that would linger for a long while) you still knew that this was likely a big thing for him to do. To ask someone for something he couldn’t do on his own.

So you coincide…partially to that and the fact that it gave you an excuse to dust off that old hobby of yours.

“You know…the cure and depeche mode do make a lot of sense for him”

𝐄𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 - 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐝𝐨𝐥

“𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝, 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐄𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐞 '𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐫𝐲, 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐄𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬.

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐈 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝, 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐄𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬, 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐈 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐄𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬”

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞

𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐈 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭, 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞. 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞. 𝐈 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧', "𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞"”

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 - 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞, 𝐈 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐢𝐧, 𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐚 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐮𝐥. 𝐘𝐞𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞, 𝐈'𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬, 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬. 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞?

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐈’𝐦 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐈'𝐦 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐈'𝐦 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧.

𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲, 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲, 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐲, 𝐈 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐀𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐈'𝐦 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐈'𝐦 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧.

𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐨 - 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐭, 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞.

𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐀 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐀𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞

𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐞𝐞? 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞'𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐱𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭.

𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧 - 𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐦𝐞𝐧

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧, 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮. 𝐒𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐔𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬, 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐎𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐭, 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐭 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞, 𝐔𝐧𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐔𝐩 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧. 𝐇𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐢𝐦

𝐈𝐧 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬, 𝐈 𝐬𝐚𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐒𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐚 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐤𝐲, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐣𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐬

𝐌𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 - 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐌𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐈 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐲𝐞. 𝐌𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐨𝐰,𝐍𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐲. 𝐌𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐈𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐤𝐲, 𝐒𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 ��𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐓𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞 '𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐰𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐞.

"𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮"

"𝐀𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞"

"𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭"

"𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞"

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐚 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐲 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞

𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 - 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐭 𝐈𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐮𝐩, 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

𝐈𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐲, 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨, 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨. 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐯𝐞.

𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥, 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥, 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰.”

𝐒𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 - 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐒𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬. 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬, 𝐒𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐝 (𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬) 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧 (𝐒𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞) 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐨𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐚𝐬𝐭 (𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬) 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫. 𝐈 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 (𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬) 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 (𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬) 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫, 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 (𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬)

𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - 𝐝𝐞𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞

𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞. 𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐌𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬

𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐄𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞. 𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐄𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞

𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐌𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞'𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲'𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐁𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐲. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

Making the mixtape took a lot longer than you remember them taking to be made back then but you’d done it. Thank god YouTube existed to fill in the blanks of what you’d forgotten after about 20 years of putting aside this old hobby of yours. Though on that note maybe you’d get back into it.

There was something nostalgic and fun about making a tape when online streaming was so prevalent. Nice to hold your favorite songs in the palm of your hand in a physical manner instead of hoping and praying it isn’t a lost piece of media in x amount of years.

Oh, maybe if you dug up your old stuff you could even find some of your older tapes.

You know lady had made you a few back then. Maybe playing them would get a laugh from her from old memories.

Good times.

Your knuckles rack against the wood door to Vergils newly converted room in devil may cry. What once used to be a storage closet filled with boxes upon boxes of ammo, mementos and a plethora of cursed or objects of demonic origin was either placed elsewhere or sold to Enzo for money to afford furniture. You may or may not had chipped in to also buy furniture for Vergil, though you hadn’t mentioned or brought it up.

Was kinda weird to bring up, especially to him.

“Vergil! I-“

Before you have the time to finish your sentence the door is wretched open. Had the doors not been reinforced both in its wood and in hinges it would have surely been flung off and hit the wall with how forcefully Vergil opened it. He’d done this a few times before, he nearly ripped various doors out just because he underestimated his strength. Nicos Van nearly suffered such a fate.

“Yes?”

His face is impartial as usual. Complete wooden like a inanimate object besides how his eyes drift around you.

“I…got your playlist?”

“Yes…and?”

He looks like he’s anxiously waiting for you to say something. He fidgets with his crossed arms, fingers drumming against his forearm.

Blue eyes bore into you.

Man was he really this nervous about you helping him out in making a mixtape?

And you thought that you had trust issues…

“I didn’t know what exactly you meant at first with the playlist…”

You see his grip tighten a bit and his brow furrow. Yet there’s a look in his eyes that pertains despite whatever weird anxiety he’s having.

“But?”

“But…I think I got what you meant”

He lets out a sigh that even he looks surprised at letting out.

“I-“

Before he had to explain himself you save him from whatever shame he was holding. Pulling out the mixtape he stops whatever he’s about to say, it dying In his throat as he stared down at the cassette sitting in the palm of your hand.

“I wasn’t sure what exactly you wanted your playlist on since you didn’t specify CD or cassette but-“

Unbeknownst to you the man you stand in front of currently feels the hope in him crack and crumble like fine china in his very soul. It shattered at the sight of the little piece of plastic and tape sitting in your hand.

A hand he wished to kiss the back of even now.

He had…underestimated Dante’s taunts of how hard of an endeavour this would be.

He just didn’t expect for his curated playlist of exclusively romantic songs to be misinterpreted this way.

Though the words did in his throat yet again when seeing you offer the cassette. Soft palms extended towards him, ones he wishes to feel the warmth o-

Grabbing the small cassette he gives you a nod, a small one with slumped shoulders but one nonetheless.

“…..Thank you”

“No problem. You can come to me again if you’d like me to make more for your playlists…oh! I can also show you some newer stuff as well since you probably haven’t heard anything from the past 20 ish years". It's offered with some hesitancy but it’s still an offered olive branch. A branch that hadn’t had ample chance yet to be given to him often.

“I’d like that”

He takes that branch and holds tight. Even if this didn’t work out as expected he still got something out of this besides a bit of broken hope and dashed pride.

That's certainly something Dante hadn’t gotten with his incident regarding a playlist love confession. Something his brother babbled on about while drunk off his ass one night as Vergil found himself listening to his younger twin’s misery. It’s not like he’s had any better luck but it does make him feel a bit better he got a slight better chance out of this than he did.

“Tomorrow could you show me some new music?”

“Sure thing, I’ll try and figure out what you’d like”

“Much Appreciated”

It’s more appreciated than you’d ever know, but for different reasons to what you initially thought. He couldn’t care less about the songs, all he wanted was you and your time.

Tag list

@galaxylibella @dragon-lord-lysander @idleviewer @rosvaline @superbfuryfest @localeggdealer @mellophoned @justanotherweeb666 @her-majesty-horiko @treelogirl @angstylittleb1tch @coinduck @living-my-best-life5

[towasdandelion]

Hiiiiiii

can you make Mc recives/Mc sends (Doesnt matter wich one) a message that "I miss you" From their ex/to their ex (Ex's are Sinostra and Vagastrom 👉👈) simply they want her back

Okay (⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠) I'm fine I'm totally fine (screams into the void) Hii! Been a while since I wrote something a bit more angsty. I wanted this to have fluff at the end but ultimately changed my mind, telling myself it's okay to write angst without a definite ending ᕙ⁠(⁠ ⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠‿⁠ ⁠•⁠ ⁠ ⁠)⁠ᕗ so you can imagine if you did accept them back or not! I hope you like ittt

When you get a "I miss you" text from your ex - Sinostra and Vagastrom

I think Ritsu will be very honest and straightforward (well, almost) with you and himself, especially after break up. He analyzes everything that happened, and realizes he simply misses you. And he has to admit, your presence and partnership is something he heavily relied on. Something he just can't live without anymore. He needs you. He's not going overthink this and just simply decides ro text you. Yes, he fears your rejection. But there's only one thing worse than that. The unknown. And he can't stand that. He will wait patiently for your answer, giving you all the space that you need.

Romeo might be in denial at first, simply calling the ache in his chest "frustration". But when he realizes that there is nothing that can soothe it aside from the thought of having you back in his life - he knows he's screwed. He misses you. He misses you a lot. And as prideful as he is, he still decides to let you know how he feels. It's your fault after all, you still have his heart! He's going to be surprisingly calm, (yes, that's calm for him) but grows frustrated when you act surprised. Did he really not show you enough appreciation before? Well if you do decide to try again, he'll make sure to work on that.

Taiga is a simple man. Well, sometimes. And this is one of the instances. He's not going to think too much. In fact he's not going to think at all, deciding to text you as soon as the thought of you pops up in his mind. He doesn't exactly understand why he can't, but he's not able to forget you no matter what he does.. And it pisses him off so bad because he always thought he's stronger than that. Well he's not, and he needs you back in his life. He's rather impatient though. He wants to feel the warmth of your presence again. If you don't want him to show up unannounced then don't take too long with your answer. Sorry.

Leo is spiraling so bad. He starts to overthink everything. He's so deep in denial, deep to the point where it keeps him up at night. He can't stand it. He hates to admit that he still misses you. Why can't he just get over you? What's so special about you that makes it so hard to let go? He knows exactly what, but he'd rather die than admit it out loud. But one night it just gets too much and he finally sends his text. He feels pathetic for having to bare his feelings like that but he knows you can't just read his mind, even if it's something he would prefer just this once. Words don't come easy to him. Just accept him back already, would you? You can't possibly reject him?

Sho is very mature about this. There wasn't a single day where he wouldn't think about your relationship. About the days where both of you were smiling cheerfully. Damn, he misses that. He's going to think before he acts though. He should probably leave you alone.. but as much as he wants to, he can't. In the end he sends his message, hoping for at least one word from you. It's so hard for him to stop himself from saying more. There's so much on his mind, so many things he wants to say. But the most important one he has to let you know about is that he really wants you two to try again. It's entirely up to you though, he won't push too much. All he needs is a small promise that you will actually consider this...

Alan is getting desperate. He only has himself to blame for falling for you so hard that he can't let go. Not even after some time. Your presence in his life changed everything for the better. And he craves you, craves that warmth once again. He mentally berates himself after sending his text. Just what is he doing? He should respect this distance, he should let you go. But no matter how much he tries, he finds it impossible. It's not like him but once he gets one reply from you, the words are just going to keep coming. He can't stop them. He feels terrible for dumping this on you but at the same time he's silently hoping he will be able to make you see just how much he loves you.

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

A Sparrow at Sea 4/4

MDNI

Whitebeard pirates/reader (fem? functionally gender-neutral)

I do not curate tag lists, but I reply to comments on each chapter when the next goes live.

Summary: Turned into a bird as part of a slave-smuggling operation, you get your revenge - and then your revenge gets you. Panicked and alone, you crash land on a very large, very famous ship full of very large and quite infamous men.

***Warnings: graphic violence (birds go for the eyes, kids), blood, burning, mild body horror, technically kidnapping, reasonable fear of death, crushing/suffocation, implied nudity, panic attacks

(I tried writing four one-shots for my birthday and wrote one four-shot instead.)

Master List

Ace was a fire hazard. Izou always looked like he knew too much. And Marco remained a type A(sshole).

Though you flitted from one to the other, even trying Jozu’s armored shoulder and Haruta’s puffy sleeves, you always found your way back to Thatch. Although he might be even busier than Marco, he was surprisingly chill about it all.

The ship’s kitchen filled a thousand bottomless stomachs three times a day, with a limited menu available at all hours to accommodate every shift, sleep schedule, and appetite. He always had something to do, but he loved his galley, and it showed. Everything had a place, and all of his team knew their roles.

Every kitchen you’d ever seen on half this scale was a warzone of barked orders, small fires, and tears when the customers weren’t looking. But Thatch clearly understood that none of his men could leave, could find a work/life balance. The ship was their home. That included the galley. He gave them reason to stay and opportunities to experiment with the variety of ingredients gathered from remote islands.

He also wore shirts as intended – jackets even! – which made your life easier. No matter how battle-hardened they were, you knew men could be big babies about little things, like claws pricking into skin when they moved too quickly. Even an accidental swat could kill you. You’d felt those muscles under your feet. That would suck for everyone, especially you. And you weren’t ready to leave Whitebeard’s crew for the big sea in the sky, so those considerations remained a priority.

Thatch didn’t even twitch the first time you awkwardly flailed up to his shoulder.

“Picking me? I’m honored.”

And that was that.

The first day you caught some long looks from the other men – but you were what appeared to be a messy wild animal in a place full of food. It didn’t last. When you didn’t shit indoors and actually policed your own feathers as they dropped, your presence was accepted. But you’d never had to prove anything to Thatch.

He chatted with you, even when his crewmates were working beside him. You answered, pretending it was a real conversation, and he smiled when you replied, even though all he heard was birdsong.

You weren’t above playing favorites, but you still did the rounds, because Ace looked too damn sad about it if you didn’t. With every return, Thatch greeted you with a big smile and a handful of seeds. He liked feeding you like he enjoyed feeding everyone else. After some discussion, the kitchen team cleared out a small cabinet. They removed the door and kept the make-shift birdhouse stocked with various nibbles, a water dish, and a pile of old rags.

You found it embarrassingly homey.

And you quickly found yourself settling in, riding Thatch’s shoulder as he began breakfast prep hours before dawn, groggily nestling into the crook of his neck as he explained the menu. Ace would come down at some point in the day, puppy-dog-eyed and eager. Trial and error led to a mutual agreement that his hand was actually the safest place. Or his hat. He only squashed you once when his narcolepsy struck, and you couldn’t find it in your heart to hold it against him.

The others came to you as time allowed or need demanded.

Marco was doctor, sure, but fuck if the crew of orphans and outcasts didn’t need several full-time therapists to handle their festering emotional wounds. It wasn’t hard to spot a pirate having a rough day as he trudged to the kitchen door, asking if Birdie was in.

It felt like pulling your weight, in a way. You thanked them for feeding you, caring for you, and not asking the wrong questions by spending long evenings perched on the rail beside Vista, staring out to sea. Or recovering the pens Marco dropped when he worked too late into the night. Or jumping on Ace’s head when he stared into the middle distance for more than five minutes at a time.

You still hadn’t approached Whitebeard. He knew of you, and the crew discussed your aversion to their captain, but no one forced the issue. He was too much, the epitome of all threats in both strength and observation. The world boasted many strange and wonderful things, but he’d seen more than most, and you were willing to bet he’d see right through you.

You’d hate to be found out.

Not that you liked being a bird, but if you ever got your skin back, you’d have to disappear, and that would upset the crew. But even that would sting less than the alternative: finding out the truth.

You hadn’t done anything to intentionally manipulate them, and you’d never sell them out, but after sharing so many vulnerable moments, you knew they’d see it as a betrayal. Honestly, just remembering what you really were felt like dishonesty.

But you were an unwilling accomplice in an espionage mission that never was, and you really hoped the ones truly responsible were already dead.

Time returned your feathers and carved your niche in the crew. You worried less, burying the eternal scream that still bubbled up when you considered just how accustomed you’d become to being a bird. It wasn’t that it felt right to have feathers, but the horror had become terrifyingly mundane. And while you were still very wary of them, you only feared the men you sailed with because of their size and its potential consequences. But you had no qualms riding on their shoulders, hands, and heads.

That was for the best, because in the months since you boarded, the Moby Dick didn’t put into port. You couldn’t have left if you wanted to, not easily anyway. Smaller fleet vessels came and went with commanders, off causing their own mayhem and gathering supplies to return to the family home. The enormous ship was a roaming port of its own, really, unless something specific caught the captain’s interest, and that hadn’t happened for a hot minute, apparently.

The commanders’ cycling adventures forced you to adapt your schedule from time to time, but it didn’t usually bother you. Your birdhouse remained, and come-or-go, there was always at least one familiar face to pester. Or the kitchen team, who took it as a matter of honor to speak to you while their division commander was away.

Thatch rarely left, and when he did, you spend much more time on deck, watching for sails. It pulled a lot of ribbing from the other men, primarily aimed at Thatch. Plenty laughed and assured you your favorite would be back soon. Maybe it made you look clingy, but you spent most days literally clinging to men’s shirts entirely in the buff. There were better things to blush about.

So, you found yourself hanging in the rigging, watching Thatch’s ship inch into view, from sail, to ship, to sailors. He climbed aboard, laughing and holding a strange fruit destined to be sliced, diced, and served up in a pie. You fluttered down, catching bits of the conversation as he crossed the deck.

A mystery devil fruit.

Your claws sank into white threads, and you chirped as loud as you could in his ear, Better not be another Logia. If you turn to smoke or some shit while I’m on your shoulder there will be consequences. I never shat in your mouth when you fell asleep over your cookbooks, but there’s a first time for everything.

“Birdie missed you, yoi,” Marco drawled.

The threat of a taunt hovered in his smirk, and you leapt back into the air, circling until you found an opening. Feet outstretched, you snagged his hair. The grip stopped your momentum, and you nestled down in the golden explosion as he yelped and tried to pull you out. Which was difficult without pulling his own hair.

Try me, Pineapple.

Before he could sort through the mess you’d made of his ridiculous styling (not that most of the crew were much better – Thatch included), you escaped, cackling in triumph, and returned to your usual place on Thatch’s shoulder.

The cook didn’t hide his delight. “Let’s go see what chaos you’ve caused while I was gone,” he said, trailing his fingers over your head. That meant going to the galley, the best place on the ship, and you gladly settled in for the ride down.

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

The crew celebrated Thatch’s return that night with a feast on deck. Thatch really only got to enjoy part of it, of course. He was still stirring pots and tossing skillets when it began, and he retired early to prep for breakfast.

Ace tried convincing you to stay on his hat with a few berries when Thatch left the party, but you didn’t want to leave Thatch to just talk to himself while he worked. So, off you flew.

He was busy. Bending, lifting, and climbing to review stocks and ensure everything was properly stowed before he even brought out the cutting board for the pile of zucchini awaiting his attention. Your birdhouse made a better resting place, and voices carried in the empty space, reverberating off tiled walls and polished counters. You could hear him. He could hear you. And you stayed out of the way.

As the night wore on and Thatch regaled you with hyperbolized tales of his strength and valor on his trip, a shadow moved into the galley. Thatch noticed, too, breaking his narrative to acknowledge the intruder.

“Hey, Teach.” The cook didn’t even turn around, still hard at work. “Need something?”

The shadow nodded, drifting closer.

“Ya might say that.”

You’d hated Teach from day one. Thatch and Ace had both tried reasoning with you, explaining he was big and a little careless but he certainly didn’t mean any harm. That he was a friend worth having. But that wasn’t the man you saw.

The longer you looked, the more he reminded you of a cat. Some prowling thing waiting in the light, content and lazy in a way that masked his oddities. He didn’t want anything, which was strange enough for a pirate. He didn’t ask for anything despite his tenure, and he laughed off his open selfishness as a harmless quirk.

Always smiling, but too widely. Always laughing, but at the wrong times. Quick to offer advice that almost sounded mocking.

No, you didn’t trust Teach, and you were glad as you observed, silent, from your nest.

He was moving too slowly, too carefully, fixated on Thatch. His steps echoed the cook’s like he wanted to be forgotten as he moved. One hand gripped something on his belt, and a stray beam of light caught the silver gleam of a blade leaving the sheath.

You sat up, hopped to the edge of your cabinet, and peered down as Thatched moved to the counter below.

“Well, there’s still a basket of leftovers from breakfast. I don’t think there’s any pie, but if you’re starving…”

Teach’s eyes blazed as he raised the knife over his head, smiling honestly for the first time. His whole face changed with the expression, transforming from clown to monster.

You lunged.

Shrieking.

Thatch looked up, surprised by the noise, and you latched onto Teach’s left eye. Your claws punctured into viscous jelly before either man realized what had happened.

It threw off the killer’s aim, and the blade sank into Thatch’s shoulder as the cook turned to follow your trajectory. You didn’t pause to see more than that, devoting your full mind, body, and spirit into tearing this backstabber apart.

“FUCK!” Teach grabbed at you, and you retaliated by hooking your feet into his eye socket, pecking and tearing viciously as he stumbled. “Damn bird!”

He caught you, hand as awful as you remembered, but you had a good grip, and pulling you off would mean pulling out his own eye. There wasn’t much he could do, and your feathers slipped around in his unsteady grasp, smeared with his blood.

Cursing, Teach squeezed. Hard. If he couldn’t get you off his face, he’d crush you.

It pushed the battle cry right out of your body, but you hold on. His eye was your only lifeline.

“Birdie!”

Thatch joined the fray from where he’d fallen, cutting at Teach’s legs. Cook he may be, but Thatch was still a pirate, and his time in the kitchen taught him just where to slice. Meat was meat, joints were joints, and tendons were tendons.

Teach buckled, howling.

He tried to catch himself, grabbing at the air for balance, and instinctively let you go. Not that it did him much good.

Now everyone was on the floor, wounded and slipping through the mess. Thatch rose to his knees, pulling out a knife of his own. You could see the hilt of Teach’s weapon over his shoulder, and your favorite’s face was pale, glistening with sweat as he fought through the pain.

Before Teach could get his hands on you again, you released his left eye and sprang to his right, flapping and spreading your wings wide to block his view. You couldn’t get the knife out of Thatch’s back, but you could make it easier for him to sink one in Teach’s chest.

You raked over Teach’s lid with your claws and pried at his lashes with your beak as he thrashed. He had the sense to keep it closed as he cursed you to hell. You were so consumed with keeping him blind, you didn’t see the hand coming. One strike sent you flying into the cabinets.

A blur, a wet smack on impact, and a short drop.

It felt like you’d left your ghost on Teach’s face, and your body sat in a soulless, thoughtless heap.

Then air hit your lungs, your mind rushed back into action, and you focused stunned eyes just in time to see Thatch kneeling on Teach’s gut, his chef’s knife stabbing into the traitor’s neck. He pushed it deeper and deeper as red fountains jumped to life and Teach wriggled, gaping like a fish. Still trying to push Thatch’s hands away from the killing blow. Trying to breathe.

He had no final words, only a frothy red gurgle.

And Thatch slumped, breathing hard, and you saw how wide the red flower on his back had bloomed.

You rolled to your feet. Shook yourself out. Nothing broken. Possibly very, very bent, but manageable.

Thatch needed help. Fortunately, the door was still open from Teach’s intrusion, and you took off before the blood on your wings could gel. It wasn’t graceful, and it wasn’t half as fast as you wanted, but you made your way through the ship, rising level by level to reach Marco’s study, praying he’d be overworking himself.

Since you couldn’t knock, you reared back as you approached the door and let yourself smack into it. The hit wasn’t half so bad as the one Teach dealt you. No immediate rustling or voice told you the doctor was awake – or even present – and you started chirping for all you were worth, jumping on the handle so it jiggled and rattled.

When the door opened, you slipped right off and landed on the floor.

Marco, rumpled and ink-smudged, blinked at you.

“Birdie? What –”

His eyes turned to saucers as he registered the bloody prints you were leaving on the floor, and he scooped you up gingerly, checking for wounds before he even understood the problem.

Not me, stupid! you screamed. It’s Thatch! Follow me, hurry up! Come on!

You pulled at his shirt, flapping just enough to get airborne before he closed his hands in a clam-shell around you.

This was bullshit.

You let your claws do the talking.

And he listened enough to rethink his approach. His fingers pulled back, and you were on your way again, even slower as your wings dried and turned stiff, but leading Marco where he was needed regardless.

He followed you, asking questions you didn’t have time to answer even if you had the right shape to speak. You’d left a trail of smudges on your way up, and once Marco figured out that you were heading to the kitchen, he caught you again and raced at full speed to the open door.

Thatch sat on the floor between the stove and the pantry door, hunched over, pressing a towel as well as he could do his shoulder.

Teach remained an ugly corpse.

Marco slipped as he went to his brother’s side, dropping you as his phoenix fire flared to life. He shouted for help, hands on the wound to stop the bleeding and secure the blade.

On the floor, by Thatch’s knee, you kept watch, like Teach would sit up, laughing at having fooled you all again. He still had one eye you could pluck out if you needed to.

Jozu, Fossa, and Vista arrived in one great stampede of swearing and drawn weapons. Marco filled them in as best he could between barking orders. Chaos rumbled around you, along with some very big feet in terribly hard boots, and you chirped to remind them you were there as you skittered away from danger.

Vista’s white gloves gathered you up. Crusted blood cracked as you moved, weighing more than it really should. You couldn’t fly after the others as they lifted Thatch from the floor and carried him away, but Vista was better than wings, and he kept pace.

The nurses, who usually cooed over you, took you from the swordsman once you reached the infirmary. You lost sight of Thatch as Marco moved him into surgery, and you were carried behind several screens to a bowl of fresh water where the women helped coax the blood – worse than cherry pie – out of your delicate feathers.

They blotted you dry and left you to sleep on a towel.

It was no one’s business if you eavesdropped, if you listened until Marco emerged, weary and confused with a partial report to send to his Pops. It certainly wasn’t anyone’s concern if you crept your way through the infirmary, sneaking under white-draped beds and around desks until you found Thatch.

No one at all needed to know if you settled on the rolling tray at his side. Just in case Teach came back from the dead. Just in case he needed something. Just in case he woke up soon.

When morning found you preening on top of Thatch’s head while he flirted with the nurses and made a nuisance of himself, no one thought to comment.

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

You surveyed the town from the pinnacle of Thatch’s pompadour.

You almost felt human, though taller than you’d been before. Looking down to see people’s faces was better than roaming at an eye-to-ankle perspective, though, and when people glanced at Thatch, you could pretend they were seeing you.

Your escort had healed well from the attack, forced to rest by Marco’s glare and Jozu’s physical bulk filling the door. His left arm still hung in a sling to ease the torn muscles in his shoulder, but he was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. If anything, his brush with death had motivated him to seize life by the throat and demand everything it had.

After a great debate with the other commanders, he got permission to take you on shore leave.

“If Birdie doesn’t want to join us,” Marco had said, “what kind of pirates would we be to deny a creature it’s freedom, yoi?”

You defense of Thatch, of course, had convinced them all that you were well tamed and entirely theirs, so no one had serious concerns that you’d leave, only get lost.

The Moby Dick lurked half a mile out from the port, easy to see, but only accessible by tender. Half the town came to meet the pirates at the dock, shouting what they had for sale or begging to join up. The other half of town hunkered down behind barred doors. It wasn’t like their absence made the streets any less colorful, and eyed the vibrant spices and vegetables in the market, wondering how much Thatch would purchase (and how much was safe for you to eat).

Damn, you missed your old digestive tract. A bird’s diet sucked when you knew what you were missing, and the greatest drawback of living in Thatch’s galley was seeing all the hot curries, cheesy soups, and chocolate desserts drove you bonkers. You would say nothing of the coffee, because the smell every morning broke your heart anew.

But if you hadn’t been a bird living in Thatch’s kitchen, there would be no Thatch to carry you around the marketplace full of things you couldn’t enjoy, and that was worse. You’d coped for months. What was another decade or five?

“How much do you think Ace would pay me,” the cook mused, “if I replaced Marco’s stash of candied pineapple with durian fruit?”

Not enough to cover your funeral.

“Eh, you’re probably right… but,” he threw a coin to the vendor and slipped the malodorous treat to his collection. “Jozu loves the stuff. And Marco hates repeating his work. I’m safe until the stitches come out, and afterwards I can bribe myself a guard.”

Seas, the man loved trouble. Not to say you wouldn’t enjoy the show, but you untucked a strand from his flawless updo just as a precaution. You needed to tell him some things. He was human. He was fallible. His ego being as overinflated as his preferred hairstyle just made it easier to attack.

He squawked like a parrot, trying to smooth everything back into place as you danced around and over his knuckles, chirping back at his giggled curses with equal enthusiasm.

This was good. This was a life you could resign yourself to, even if no one else realized you were living it. This was –

Gone.

A puff of feathers, a burst of wind, and you were soaring over the town, locked in wicked, curved talons.

Like an owl’s

Thatch had already disappeared, lost in the sea of shifting figures far below, but you screamed for him anyway, struggling until the tips of your captor’s claws pressed through to your skin.

A low hoot chilled your blood, extinguishing your immediate plans to break free and run like you had before.

That was a warning, and you didn’t imagine the Zoan user would be kind enough to repeat it.

He crossed half the island in a matter of minutes. As he neared his destination, the owl glided through a copse of trees, swept around corners, and dipped below the rooftops, shaking anything without wings. There was no way Thatch could see where you’d gone. No casual birdwatchers would know, either. It was your old trick spun against you, and your little heart beat so fast you thought you’d throw up.

No one could help if they didn’t know where you were.

The owl wheeled along the shoreline, tucking close to the piers and rocky beaches on the far side of the island. A large boathouse swallowed you, and before your eyes could adjust, the predator landed, squashing you under his full weight. Just because he’d landed didn’t mean you were going anywhere.

“I don’t fucking believe it.”

You craned your neck between two of the owl’s talons to see the other Devil Fruit user. The asshole responsible for your feathered ass. You took a deep breath to chew him out, wondering if the owl Zoan would understand, but the other bird pressed down, robbing you of any comeback but a breathless squeak.

The man approached his compatriot, who lifted one foot so the human could grab you instead. He tilted you back and forth, looking over the marks that first clued Izou into your strange position.

“The little pest really is still alive.” He squeezed. Hard. “We can take care of that.”

“Punishment should fit the crime, shouldn’t it?” The owl became human, a lanky fuck who didn’t look like he’d bathed in a year. He nodded to an iron brazier across the boathouse. The crackling flames just carried over the lapping waves, and your feathers tried to stand on end.

Your handler liked the idea. He laughed and sauntered over to a pile of small cages too small to fully spread your wings inside. Still chuckling, he shoved you inside, rough and careless.

But you had bigger things to worry about than a few broken feathers.

The slaver shook the cage, holding it up to his face for a better view as you tumbled around like dice in a cup. “You know how much you cost us? You know how many Berries went up in smoke? How many men we lost? We can’t meet quota now.”

He sneered, giving the cage one more rattle for good measure. “Guess that’s our problem, though. You’re too much trouble to try selling.”

The Zoan user smirked, hooded eyes following your progress across the room. The cage still swayed, but you had enough coordination left to scream for help. Again. To the spiders in the rafters and the fish milling under the sheltered dock.

Thatch, Marco, Jozu, anyone.

You never should’ve left the ship. By the time Thatch reported back, it would be too late. They’d never know what happened. They’d never know you’d been human all along. They’d never know you the way you knew them.

The cage hovered over the flames, just enough for the highest tongues to kiss the bottom bars. You fluttered madly, clinging to the top and staying as far away as you could.

“Not fun, is it?” the Zoan asked.

An inch lower, and a lucky spark caught in the down under your wing. Heat became blinding pain, and you resisted instinct, pressing your wing down to smother it before it could spread. You dangled from the top bars by one set of claws, upside down, cringing into the sting. The men were laughing, but all you could hear was the fire, a tangible echo of the night you’d been transformed.

This story would end as it began – in flames.

Your cage swung like a pendulum, pushing you to scramble away from the various angles the flame kissed you, while leaving you constantly disoriented. It wasn’t long before you tumbled into the bottom of the cage, and everything went bright.

Pure panic claimed you. Even if you’d been human, there was a point where pain drove a person to animal survival instincts. As a bird, your feathers became kindling. They kept the fire close, feeding it into blistering skin as you bucked, throwing yourself against the bars as the breeze coaxed the blaze deeper, hotter.

Other voices joined yours, shouting as chaos exploded through your periphery. The cage fell from the slaver’s hand, and your chest clenched. But although the fire remained, hell didn’t swallow you. Coals didn’t press through the bars to char you beyond recognition.

“The water, yoi!”

“Right!”

Gravity lost all sense of meaning, and you wondered if your soul was leaving your body. Then the cage smacked into seawater.

Everything cracked as salt rushed into your eyes and flooded your sinuses. It burned in a whole new way, debriding your raw flesh. You broke the surface and screamed in agony.

With a voice you barely recognized. Through teeth and lips. Your hands clawed the low waves, but you didn’t know how to fight the crush of new, familiar sensations.

Before you went back under, a big body splashed into the water next to you, and a mass of white and brown caught you, treading water while holding you to his chest. Leaving the water was a haze. Someone threw an old blanket that smelled like fish over you, and Marco was practically screaming at everyone about infection and first aid, and you found yourself looking up at a bunch of men who looked so much smaller, and more human than they had that morning.

Thatch grinned like you weren’t covered in burns and too exhausted to move.

“Glad you’re back with us.”

Your hand lifted of its own volition, and you studied the glistening patches of exposed fascia between familiar scars and callouses. “I’m not a bird anymore.”

Thatch nodded, much too casual about the entire ordeal. It made you think things were even worse than you knew. “Nope.”

“And…” You frowned, rolling your tongue over your hard palate, tasting the smoke with a sharp depth your bird senses hadn’t offered. “And everyone’s… okay with that?”

Enormous, worried eyes swooped over your view of the rafters. Ace’s pinched brows dipped even deeper. “This is who you’ve always been, right?”

Well. Obviously. “Yeah.”

“Then nothing’s really changed, has it?” Thatch asked. He adjusted the blanket as a bunch of new footsteps stomped towards you, shouting something about a stretcher. “Just need to find you a bigger bunk. The kitchen cabinet isn’t gonna do it anymore.”

[thattimdrakeguy]

I Kind-Of Prefer Jason Todd's Original Resurrection

The Superman Prime thing punching reality is a little goofy--creative, but goofy.

So I get why people don't like it.

I think it's a lot better, though. Lazarus Pit actually originally couldn't bring people back to life. They bring it up in Under the Hood actually. That was a retcon as far as I'm aware.

The original grit and nastiness of the original resurrection scene is powerful stuff though, like a modern-ish horror story.

Also, damn look at that hot head, calming himself down while suffocating. Oh Jason and that temper of his. Look how temperamental he is--Okay, I'll stop.

This imagery too. Could hang it up on your wall if you were into edgy stuff like that.

Jason Todd here is only 15-years-old too. Only six months after he was murdered in that explosion. Teen got some freaking heart in him that's for sure.

Makes ya feel something.

The way he's drawn there walking down the hall. Total horror story stuff. I love it. It's so marvelous and dashing in a disturbed type of way.

Another thing I love is how the Lazarus Pit in this story looks like lava too. Adds to the horror story, modern day Frankenstein without sewing together bits and pieces of different folk together.

'bout bringing the brain dead back to proper life.

Giving me genie Jafar vibes though for some odd reason.

Like these two images combined or something.

I mean they're both red themed, I dunno...

What's with the early '00's and making Talia an absolutely wretched person? He's twenty at this point I believe, but I didn't see no consent. That's your lover's son ya freak.

(I've been corrected, he wasn't even 20. Have fun knowing Talia is even worse here than I initially realized. That's...I was going to say fun sarcastically, but nah, that's really weird, and super gross.)

Damn why couldn't they keep up the pace with Jason Todd, man? I don't necessarily want to make the post, and I probably won't do it for a while anyways, but they treated Jason like total dog shit after this for no good reason. I think some people forget how bad he had it for a bit. Still doesn't have it good--but--jeez whole other level for a bit.

The writing is so strong.

I can't put into words how much I love the narration boxes here. It's like the bible, except I give a shit.

Anyways, I hoped you've enjoyed our big ol' Jason Todd history lesson today.

It's been really fun reading this again.

Really hope too anyone that been along with me on this journey today has enjoyed themselves too. I like being an educational blog for the Bat-Family. I get a good kick out of it.

But for now--

BONUS:

Hey, I found out where people got the idea of pit madness from!

I think people that are more used to the movie probably read this and assumed that's what happened with Jason Todd.

Important thing to note though:

In the original story as you can see by the rest of the post above, Jason wasn't dead when he entered the pit. He was already alive.

Up to this point we're led to believe Ra's was lying anyways about it being able to resurrect people.

Wasn't 'til later, possibly when they simplified this story, did it become able to full on resurrect people.

Be honest, does he seem insane to you?

[garlickedbreadthe12th]

Noticed that you are asking for smut requests. Boy are we freaks for that TV (Tenna)? Totally cool if you are already busy with requests for this is optional!

The fic can be an x reader (GN) OR Fem, in case if those details matter. But i imagine Tenna often getting stressed out when things dont go his way with his show. And his form of cope? Being a freak, and reader is his assistant.

Being the good assistant reader is, wanting to do anything to make Tenna happy! Reader willingly helps Tenna…blow off steam behind the stage, in his office, in the break room. And reader learns way more about their boss through any kinks he implies.

How you write it is completely up to you! From headcannons to a short story. Happy smut writing 🫡

Tenna ohhhh gosh the things I'd do for you....

Tenna x Assistant! Reader smut hcs

Most of the time you're lost in spreadsheets and schedules. It's mainly seeing what meetings and showtimes overlap, and trying to fix that.

But on the rare occasions, you get the "special benefits" the ones that the average employee doesn't get around here.

Your boss, Mr Tenna, gets, well, stressed during his show. During the quick breaks he has, he'll give you a piece of him. Figuratively AND literally.

From a 1 minute cock suck to a full 15 minutes of having his dick inside you (with some antenna stroking), it varies from day to day

Usually it's backstage, behind a curtain or two for privacy. He'll unzip, and you do your job.

On the longer days at work, it's more than once or twice. It's any time he can get you off of your desk and into his office.

If it gets really busy, he locks the door. He likes toying with semi-public and public sex with you, but sometimes he doesn't want to take chances on his reputation. But he does enjoy seeing you glance around if anyone's there when you're getting it on.

He'll get you into a storage closet sometimes just for a quickie. In some cases, Tenna does more than the basics. He'll tie your hands behind your back, or strangles you a bit.

During a slow day at work, you had a whole damn hour in the break room with him "letting off steam" from the whole month.

Tenna pinned you to the ground and ripped off your pants and shirt, then just started thrusting into you as if he was an actual animal. His face bore sharp, staticky teeth and his third leg sent tiny volts up your body when he climaxed, which was several times.

You did get aftercare when it was over though, which was nice for a change. And, it wasn't half bad.

[stewpidcheescatarinabluu]

“Sunflowers.”

Synopsis: You thought she was just a pretty girl who liked flowers. But one visit to the hospital changes everything.

Word Count: 2,616

H2H Jiwoo X Male Reader

a/n: I have no actual storyline for this piece, just thought of “oh what if Y/N just can’t resist letting jiwoo pay the normal price and always gives her discounts?”but no! my brain keeps adding plot twists.

Your dad always said the flower business was a sacred thing.

It’s a language. A love letter in color. Don’t mess it up.

So naturally, you were messing it up.

Not intentionally — you just… weren’t built for it. You didn’t know the difference between tulips and peonies most days, and the only “language” you spoke fluently was sarcasm and mid-tier K-pop fancams.

The shop was warm, bright, and smelled like nostalgia and pollen. Sunlight streamed through the old windows, dust dancing in the beams. Somewhere, your dad’s ancient pricing chart was pinned to a corkboard — hand-laminated and triple underlined.

You were supposed to be memorizing it.

Instead, you were scrolling through edits.

Damn, you muttered, staring at a slow-mo of some idol doing that eyebrow lift thing. When can I get a girlfriend?

The universe, apparently, was listening.

Because that’s when the bell above the door jingled, and your whole world tilted.

She stepped in like a walking sonnet — sunlight caught in the lace of her hat, dress soft and fluttering like petals in spring. She had a basket looped at her forearm, and a smile that felt like it bloomed just for you.

Excuse me, sir?

Her voice was warm honey. Her eyes sparkled.

You forgot how to breathe.

Do you have roses by any chance?

You stared.

Not at the flowers.

Not at the basket.

Straight at her.

And then — THUMP — you fell backward off your chair.

Are you okay, sir? she asked, clearly trying not to laugh.

YEP! you blurted, popping up like an unhinged jack-in-the-box. ALL GOOD. ROSES, RIGHT? YEP. FLOWER STUFF. FOLLOW ME.

You shoved your phone in your pocket like it personally betrayed you, practically tripping over a bucket of baby’s breath on the way to the cooler.

She followed with a curious smile.

So… are you the owner?

Me? No. Well. Sort of. My dad is. I’m the uh—assistant-slash-prisoner. You know. Family business.

She giggled. Giggled.

You could write novels off that sound.

That’s cute.

You were going to lowball the hell out of these roses.

How many are you thinking? you asked, unlocking the cooler. We’ve got single stems, half dozens, full dozens, chaos bundles—

Just one, she said, voice soft. It’s for someone special.

Your stomach did a thing.

One rose it is, you said, grabbing the freshest one you could find. On the house.

Oh, no—how much?

You opened your mouth to say six dollars like the pricing board demanded.

Two-fifty, you said instead.

Your father groaned in the spiritual realm.

Are you sure? she asked, tilting her head.

Yup, you said too fast. Family business discount.

But I’m not family…

Not yet, you mumbled.

She blinked. You blinked. The air froze.

I mean—not like that! Just—like, customer loyalty! I say weird things when I’m around beauty. I mean… people. Around people.

She smiled like she was used to people falling over themselves for her.

And worse — like she enjoyed it.

Well, thank you, flower boy, she said, handing over a crisp bill. I’ll be back.

Cool, you said, even though you meant please come back tomorrow and every day after that until I die.

She left with the bell jingling gently behind her.

You stood there for a full minute.

Then.

…Shit.

You had no idea who she was.

But you were fully prepared to bankrupt the shop trying to impress her.

She came back.

Of course she did.

The next day, and the next, and the day after that — same basket, same soft smile, different dress each time like she was handpicked from a garden catalog. Always buying just one flower.

A daisy.

A tulip.

A gerbera.

And you?

You kept lowballing every single one like your dignity depended on it.

That’ll be… one dollar.

Two-for-one special today. Even though you’re only buying one. Weird, right? Haha. Take it. Please.

Every flower she chose left you wondering: Who is he?

The rose — classic love.

The daisy — innocent affection.

The blue hyacinth — sorrow and forgiveness?! Who hurt her?! Do I have to fight someone?!

You started Googling flower meanings at night like a madman, scrolling through articles titled “What Does It Mean If She Buys ONE Flower A Day??” like they held the answers to life.

She always paid in cash.

Always smiled.

Always thanked you.

He’s lucky, you wanted to say.

But instead:

Here, I wrapped it a little extra today. Hope he likes it.

Who?

You blinked.

She asked it so casually, tucking the bloom into her basket.

You always say ‘he.’

Your heart practically choked itself.

Oh—just—figured. With the one flower thing. Thought maybe you were giving it to… y’know. A boyfriend. Or something.

You rubbed the back of your neck, feeling about as smooth as a cactus.

She tilted her head, curious.

You think I’m buying these for someone else?

You froze.

You’re not…?

She shrugged. Maybe. Maybe not. You never asked.

Your brain flatlined.

She turned toward the door again, humming softly.

See you tomorrow, flower boy.

And just as the bell jingled—

Wait!

She stopped.

You swallowed.

I never asked… what’s your name?

She smiled.

Jiwoo.

It bloomed in your chest like a wild thing.

I’m Y/N.

I know, she said with a grin, walking backward through the door. You keep writing it on my receipts.

She left.

You stared at the empty doorway for a good five minutes, hand still half-raised like you’d forgotten how time worked.

Jiwoo.

Jiwoo.

You said it once.

Twice.

Then sighed, picking up your phone.

No edits today.

You had flowers to learn

You didn’t mean to care this much.

But there you were — behind the shop counter at 9:17 a.m., typing “flower meanings for hopeless romantics” into a search bar like it was going to save you.

Lilacs for first love.

Sunflowers for admiration.

Baby’s breath for innocence.

You even made a chart.

You never made charts.

Not for school. Not for taxes. Not even for your dad’s pricing board (which, by the way, you hadn’t looked at in two weeks because Jiwoo kept getting the “love interest” discount).

You told yourself it wasn’t a crush. You were just… curious.

Curious why she kept choosing one stem at a time.

Curious why she lingered by the counter.

Curious why she laughed at all your dumb comments and tilted her head when she looked at you like she was trying to memorize something.

It’s just routine, you told yourself.

She’s just a customer. A very… pretty one. With nice hands. And a really good smile. And great fashion taste. And—

You were spiraling.

So you started prepping for her visits.

Just a little.

Arranged the front cooler more neatly. Swept the floor before she arrived. Read up on flowers so you could casually say things like, Did you know bluebells mean gratitude? and act like it wasn’t something you’d learned at 1 a.m. while lying awake thinking about her voice.

And every day — right around 10:43 a.m. — she showed up.

Like clockwork.

A new flower.

A new smile.

Sometimes a soft hum.

Sometimes a compliment.

Sometimes she asked how your day was going, and you answered too fast, because her asking made it good.

It became your favorite part of the day.

Until it didn’t happen.

The door didn’t jingle.

No floral dress.

No basket.

No Jiwoo.

You checked the clock.

Then the street.

Then the cooler — like maybe she was hiding behind the lilies, waiting to jump out and say Surprise! Just kidding. I’d never miss a day, flower boy.

But she didn’t.

You waited until lunch.

Then dinner.

Then closing.

You even made an extra stem bouquet — just in case she showed up late.

She didn’t.

The shop felt colder somehow.

Smaller.

The silence pressed in like a heavy coat, and even the scent of the flowers couldn’t shake the ache blooming in your chest.

You weren’t sure what you missed more.

Her voice.

Her smile.

Or the fact that, for the first time in a long time, you’d been looking forward to something without realizing it.

You closed the shop that night slower than usual.

One light at a time.

Lingering.

Hoping.

But the bell never rang.

And for the first time since she walked in…

…you really, really hated flowers.

Seven days.

That’s how long it had been.

Seven mornings of checking the time.

Seven almosts.

Seven times you rearranged the daffodils just in case today was the day.

You hated how much it affected you.

Worse, you hated the dream you had two nights ago — Jiwoo, smiling at some faceless guy who picked her up in a silver car, handing her a bouquet you didn’t wrap. He kissed her cheek and she giggled and said, “I don’t need to go to that flower shop anymore. I’ve got what I need.”

You woke up pissed.

At the guy. At yourself. At your brain for giving you an imagination that could invent heartache.

By day seven, you’d accepted it:

She was gone.

You were just a stop on her map.

A blip.

A dumb flower boy who gave discounts for daydreams.

So when the bell above the shop rang at 10:42 a.m., you didn’t even look up.

Not until you heard her voice.

Hey, flower boy.

You froze.

She stood in the doorway, same basket, new dress. Same spark in her eyes. But this time — her shoulders looked a little tired.

Jiwoo.

It came out too fast. Too relieved. Too much.

She tilted her head.

You look like you saw a ghost.

You disappeared.

She blinked. You blinked. You hadn’t meant to sound so… jealous? desperate? boyfriend-y? You didn’t even know.

I— you rubbed your neck. I was just… wondering. You always come by. And then you didn’t. For like a week. I thought maybe…

You trailed off. Couldn’t finish that thought.

She looked at you for a moment.

And then walked toward the counter, eyes soft.

I didn’t mean to worry you.

You said nothing.

She set the basket down and reached into it, pulling out a small pin — a silver brooch in the shape of a lily.

I work as a nurse. At Seongwon Hospital.

She smiled, a little sheepishly.

I host this little thing every day with patients who’ve received… hard news. Prognostic stuff. Things they’re scared to talk about. So I bring them a flower and we do a small ‘Show & Tell.’ They get to hold something beautiful while the world feels like it’s falling apart.

You stared at her.

That ache in your chest shifted — softened, bloomed into something warmer.

The flower’s not for a boy dummy~, she added. It’s for whoever needs it that day. Just one stem. Just enough to remind them there’s still softness in the world.

You swallowed.

And last week…?

We moved hospitals.

She sighed, resting her arms on the counter.

There’s a flower shop closer to the new location, but—

She glanced at you, smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

I like it here.

Your breath caught.

You came all this way… just for a flower?

Not just the flower.

Silence.

You didn’t know what to say.

So she reached into her basket again, pulled out a small bento box, and handed it to you.

You looked like you haven’t ate breakfast yet.

You took it. Warm. Heavy in your hand.

Like her showing up.

Like your chest, still reeling from that explanation.

You’re really something, Jiwoo.

She grinned.

Took you long enough to figure that

Days pasts, frequent visits happen and so is your heartrate frequency going ballistic.

It started with a joke.

Need help delivering one of those?

you asked, casual but hopeful.

You meant the flower.

She meant everything else when she said:

Actually… yeah. Come with me.

You didn’t expect to walk the pale hallways of Seongwon Hospital and feel the air change when Jiwoo entered a room — how it shifted from clinical to calm, from sterile to safe.

You didn’t expect how quiet everything went when she spoke.

“Good morning, my loves.”

That’s what she called them — the patients.

There were four in the room: two teens, a child, and an older woman seated furthest from the door. IV poles and machines surrounded them, beeping softly. No one smiled at first.

But Jiwoo did.

Not in a performative, cheer-up kind of way — but something gentler. Worn-in. Like she’d practiced this warmth until it felt real again, even when it cracked at the edges.

She pulled one flower from the bouquet you brought: a sunflower, petals wide like open arms.

She knelt next to the child first — a little girl who clutched a lion plush to her chest like it was armor.

This one’s called a sunflower. Do you know why?

She didn’t wait for the answer.

“Because no matter where it grows, it turns its face toward the sun. It looks for light. Even in hard places.”

The girl blinked up at her, wide-eyed. Jiwoo handed her the bloom like it was a wish. The girl held it like it was the first good thing she’d touched in days.

The boy beside her — tall, pale, trying not to look scared — got a gerbera.

“You said red was your favorite, right?”

He nodded, biting his lip.

Then, Jiwoo picked out a lily.

And you watched her walk toward the farthest bed.

The woman sitting there looked older than her years, hair graying, a silk scarf tied around her head.

She didn’t smile.

But her eyes — they flickered when Jiwoo approached.

Jiwoo knelt again, slower this time. Almost reverently.

“Hi, Mom.”

You froze.

You didn’t breathe.

Jiwoo said it like a prayer. Like it ached to say out loud.

The woman tilted her head. Weakly brushed Jiwoo’s hair from her face.

“You’re late,” she rasped.

Jiwoo smiled — not her usual kind. Smaller. Sadder.

“I stopped at the flower shop as usual.”

Her mother chuckled, barely. But her hand trembled as it reached for the lily.

“What does this one mean again?”

“Purity. Renewal. And… a reminder.”

She didn’t finish the sentence. But her mother nodded, as if she heard it anyway.

You had to look away.

The hallway spun for a moment.

Not because it was loud — but because it wasn’t. Because Jiwoo said so much with so little. Because the girl who lit up your flower shop every day was lighting up this place instead — one stem, one patient, one smile at a time.

Because she didn’t just buy flowers to be soft or romantic or whimsical.

She bought them to hold the weight of people’s worst days.

To remind them something still bloomed, even now.

And that woman — that tired, beautiful woman in the bed — that was her reason.

Her beginning and her end.

When Jiwoo returned, her eyes were glassy, but she smiled like she always did. Soft. Brave.

“Sorry you had to see all that.”

You shook your head.

“No. I’m glad I did.”

She looked at you — really looked — and for a moment, she wasn’t the girl who wandered into your life asking for roses.

She was the reason you wanted to keep every flower alive in the shop.

You reached into your coat pocket.

Pulled out the single sunflower you’d wrapped earlier. Just in case.

“This one’s for you,” you said. “So you don’t forget where to look.”

She didn’t answer.

She just took it carefully, like it was something sacred.

And you watched — quietly, achingly — as she held it close

[damimami1994]

SA-VAAANN-AHHH!!!

This is ME and I am literally just a ghost while writing this!!!!! ALSOOO IM STILL SO HONORED YOU ASKED ME TO READ IT 🥹 AND ILL READ THIS OVER AND OVER BECAUSE I LOVE IT! 💕

He is such a damn menace BUT I just love him so much!!! Going back in the past and the first thing on his mind is his seeing his girl?! SIIRRR!!!

Lowkey jump scaring her on her break LOL, he’s such a presence though and just being his cocky self, “guessing” who she is and even telling her she doesn’t like to smoke (you don’t know Logan even though you actually do 🤣) this line I just love so much because I think in my head seeing him do that would send me up a wall!!

“You stared at him incredously- unbelieving of the nerve of this stranger, but your expression quickly fell and heat bloomed in your cheeks as he stuck your cigarette between his lips, and you could see his tongue run over the end- like he was trying to taste you off it.”

She’s so hypnotized by him right away (and I don’t blame her!) At the end of the day yes going with a stranger she just met and doing the things they did is like WHAAAAT but then there is this pull to him and her wanting something different in her life which girl SAME

“However, a nagging feeling resided in you- a feeling of wanting to see more. Like there was something out there- Meant for you.”

That man, Logan, had hit the nail on the spot for what you wanted in your life- especially right now.”

Especially if a man like that came up to me looking like he did, I wouldn’t say no to him 😏🤭 ANYWAY BACK TO THE AMAZING FIC

The creep from the diner earlier too!!! HES SO GROSS and I just love protective Logan coming to swoop in at the right time and help the reader out!!!

"Don't touch her, don't look at her, don't even fucking think about her- or these are going to go where the sun don't shine, got it?"

SUCH a turn on!!! BUT OMG her mama being there!!! I was like OHHH NOOOOO! Calling Logan a mutie too I was like

It was HARSH but I love how it doesn’t phase him AT ALL 🤣💞

“S’alright sweetheart, I’ll see you later.” He winked at you”

Her sneaking out too and again him being right there I was like OMMGG 🤭 I just loved the whole drive and getting something to eat because of course Logan knows her but to her it’s all new and already falling for him! All of it was a cute bunch of moments, especially when she asked again who he was and how he knew so much! 🩷

"You'll find out." He says. You blink. "But l'm a friend." He quickly adds.

"That is SO cryptic oh my god!" You laughed, shaking your head.”

And then when he asks her about college and she starts yapping away 🥹💕

“You answered, telling him about your degree. He listened to every word, eyes focused on you. He smiled at the stories you delved into, yapping away without realizing. It just felt comfortable to talk. It simply isn't easy for you to open up to anyone-especially a stranger like Logan. There was an energy between you that fit. He interjected occasionally, his own sarcastic comment or to compliment you. You talked like you were old friends.”

NOWWW THAT SMUUTTTT SAVANNAH (again with the government name I’m sorry I just need to LOL) IT ISSSS WOW MY BRAIN WENT DUMB 🥴

It’s crazy because as I read it I got bashful and nervous like the reader because I literally can see that man in my head and first of all Logan to want you like that and talk you through it all OMMMFFGGGGG!!

"C'mon, give me some more sugar."

Now it was your turn to giggle. "That was so cheesy!" You teased him, ignoring the rush your body felt when he said it.

"You liked it though, didn't you?" He hums, pressing his forehead against yours.”

I JUST NEED THIS MAN ITS INSANE!!!!

I love too how you added how the slight reality of it all LOL like her realizing like hey what am I doing?? But memories RIIGHHT!!

“Maybe putting your full trust into someone you met wasn't the smartest thing to do. You, all inexperienced and awkward shouldn't be hanging with a man twice your age-

But hey, its memories, right?”

Logan telling her too this is what it’s suppose to be like and how a man treats you throughout THE MENACE OF IT ALLLLLLL BUT YESS KING!!!

"Thatta girl." He smiled against your lips.

"That's what this is all about, taking care of each other. Understand?"

"This is how a mans supposed to treat you darling. Supposed to gentle, make sure you're happy.... Got it?"

"Course, with me, you don't need to worry about that." He rests his forehead against yours, a breathless sigh escaping him.”

When she was undressing him too LORRDD VANNN!!

“Tugging the zipper open, you found he didn't even have underwear underneath. Greeted by a bulging vein and a mess of dark curls that disappeared deeper into his jeans, you looked up at him with wide eyes.”

My reaction ⬇️

I was in shambles the whole time as I’m like gasping and putting my hand over my mouth literally going NUUUTSSS 🥵🥵🥵

And how they KEPT GOING!!!

“Just as it ended, you wanted more.

Logan seemed to understand that. He never stopped. His eyes falling open to look up at you as your chest heaved and aftershocks ran through your limbs.”

THEN VAN OMGBWBWVWG!!!! THIISSSS RIGHT HERE OVARIES BODY EXPLODED

“You heard a snapping noise, and look down at him.

He snapped his fingers from his free hand to get your attention, his eyes open while half his face was buried in your cunt. He made a motion with his freehand, telling you to keep watching.”

"Look at this baby-" He murmurs, "Gorgeous sight ain't it?"

God he's such a pervert. He's right though.”

Telling her to watch??!!!! He is such a pervert but he’s MY PERVERTTTT!! Logan seriously possessed you and I’m here FOR IT!!!!! 😍😍

THHEEENNN LOGAN TELLING HER TO SAY HER 🐱 IS HISSSS IM ACTUALLY GONE GIRL 😵‍💫🥴🤭

I can keep going on and on because you were ON FIREEE with thisss!!!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 I’m hugging and squeezing you again girly!!! THANK YOU again van for letting me read this beforehand, I was so giddy and happy to help (even though it’s all you girl the best!!) <333

Magic Man

70s Logan Howlett X F! Virgin Reader

Try, try, try to understand, he's a magic man

A/N: This man bout to risk the whole future for some pussy.

Anyway big thanks to the lovely @damimami1994 who has been like a cheerleader for me and read this fic so many times I lost count and helped me so much!!!! <3

Warnings: MAJOR SMUT. 16K+ Word Count, reader is 20+ college student, loss of virginity, logans a goddamn menace, creepy dude flirts and gets rough with reader, reader doesn't really have a survival instinct (its the 70s) , unprotected piv, handjob, F! Oral recieving, fingering, missionary + doggy (yay!), logan is NOT beating pervert allegations, overbearing mother (tbh i can't blame her), 1 (one) booty smack, logans dirty talking off the roof, cum eating?, mutant politics kinda, reader smokes a few times, some fluff, and aftercare

Magic Man - Heart

“Where the bloody hell are you going now?” Logan glanced back at Charles, who stared at him with crossed arms and an indignant look on his face.  “We leave in the morning, Logan. You are the one wanting to pull off this heist.” “Don’t worry, I’ll be back before then.” “Yeah?” “Yeah. Got something pressing.” “More than saving the future?”  Logan smirked, “I’m going to see my girl. See ya later.”

“Yeah can I get a uuuuuh…..Toms Triple Decker Burger- but leave out the lettuce, tomato, all the healthy crap, can you do that darling?”

You forced a smile. “I sure can! just bacon and cheese then?” 

“Yeah sweetheart….a side of these uh…Toms extra cheesy cheese fries too. And a diet coke.” 

“That’ll be all?” 

“And your number?” 

Your smile dropped, and you quickly replaced it- more forced than usual. Your skin crawled at the look that your customer was giving you. Greasy, twice older than you, and had his two kids at the table with him- both staring at you with confusion. An awkward laugh escaped you as you finished writing down his order. 

“Not on the menu sir. But thank you-” You gave him a polite nod, then smiled at his poor kids before turning to walk away, ripping the order off your notepad and shoving the notepad and pen into your apron and making a face of actual disgust at your coworkers who watched you with amusement. 

“How bad was he?”

“Asked for my number in front of his kids.” You scoffed, handing it to your fellow waitress, Maria, to take to the cook. 

“Why it always the greasy ones?” Kim sighs. 

“As if you wouldn’t.” Maria teased her, “Remember Arthur?”

“Arthur was nice!” Kim remarks, her nasally voice becoming high-pitched in her defense. “He was a good father,”

“He was a good husband too, till you came around.”  

You laughed, shaking your head while Kim huffs around. 

“Oh, by the way….” Maria shot you her msichevous look. “ you’re very popular today.” Maria leans onto the table and nods to something behind you. Her voice turns low and saccherine. “That handsome fellow has been watching you for a while. Tried to get his order but he waved me off- Staring at you.” She poked at your shoulder with her manicured nail. A her painted lips tilted into a sly grin.

You didn’t look right away. Twiddling your fingers nervously. Finally you lifted your head, turning to look at who she was talking about. You felt your heart stopped when you met his eyes. 

He was handsome. And he was staring right. 

At. 

you.

“Oh my god.” You muttered quickly looking away.

“Are you going to talk to him?”

“Me?!” You stammered. “Oh, Maria, no way. I could never. Plus he’s like…Way older than me!”

“The older the better.” Kim winks. Maria cackles. “You should talk to him! It’s just talking, what’s the harm?”

“Yeah, poor guy looks hungry.” Maria makes a mock sympathetic voice, tilting her head and pouting her lip. “Go on, try to get his order.” 

You sigh, butterflies turning in your stomach. You hopped off the diner stool, scowling at your friends as you forced yourself to walk to the corner where your so-called admirer sat. It felt like there were rocks in your feet, every step hesitant and slow as you approached him, not looking up until you reached his table. 

You pulled out your notepad and pen, “Hello sir, how are you today?” You looked up- your best customer service smile plastered on your face- only it quickly melted into a real smile just by the look in his eyes. He looked even better up close.

Hazel eyes looked back into yours. Chestnut brown hair slicked upwards, mutton chops that ran down to his chin. Broad shoulders and nice hands. A nose you wanted to nip and lips you wanted to kiss. You couldn’t dream of a finer man than him.

“Was wondering when you’d make your way over here.” He smirked, his voice a low rumble that made your knees weak. 

“Well… Yeah, sorry about that.” You nervously tucked your hair behind your ear. You hoped he didn’t catch how flustered you were feeling. Fortunately, working customer service is a wonderful opportunity to mask emotions. 

Usually anger, but you can improvise.  

“Can I get your order?” 

“That guy over there, with the two kids. He make you uncomfortable?” 

You mouth fell open, as you looked back to the table you were previously at. The kids were fiercely drawing with crayons on the paper you’ve given them- brows concentrated on their masterpiece. Their father seemed to have no interest, reading a newspaper he picked up at the door. 

“Oh, no it’s- it’s fine.” You smiled shaking your head. “He was just being friendly.” 

“Mm.” The man was shooting daggers at the fathers back. 

“Sir?” 

His attention snapped back to you. You gave him a kind smile, tilting your head and your hair fell over your shoulder. “Is there anything I can get you? Maybe a coffee?” 

He stared at you. There was recognition in his eyes, something soft and loving but you didn’t know. He was intense, you could feel a certain aura of darkness to him- something that should send warning bells off- but it only made you curious.

“Yeah, sweetheart. A coffee would be good.” He nods, clasping his hands together and resting his elbows on the table. 

“Cream and sugar?” 

He paused, a heartbeat passed. “Black is fine.”

“Anything else?” 

“What would you recommend doll?”

“Uh…Well,” You considered the choices. “We have this really good c-”

“Chicken sandwiches?” He asks. You smiled, tilting your head with a small scrunch of your nose- wondering how he managed to finish your sentence. “I’ll take one.” 

“With fries?”

“Sure.” 

“Okay!” You returned your notepad to your apron. “It’ll be right out.” 

“Thanks.” He replies leaning back in his seat. You lingered for a moment, wanting to talk to him more- but you didn’t know what to say, just nodding and turning to return to the counter where your friends were both smiling at you devilishly.

“Let me guess, he ordered something?”

“Shush, maybe he wasn’t hungry yet?” You argued, going around to their side of the counter, where you went to a pot of coffee that was brewing, and grabbed a mug from the shelf above it. As you poured, you snuck a glance back at the man. He was still watching you. 

Quickly snatching your eyes away from him, you focused on the coffee. 

“Oh, breaks over.” Kim looks at her watch, “It’s your break.” She looks at you, reaching for the coffee, “I’ll take over till you come back.”

“No-” You took it away, tone defensive before realizing your mistake as Kim raises her eyebrows “I- I’ll give it to him. Then go on break.” 

“Alright.” She smiles, side-eying Maria who looks equally amused. Embarrassment filled your soul as you sigh dejectedly, going back around the counter, avoiding the stares of the girls as you brought the coffee to the mans table.

“Thanks sweetheart.” He reaches for it, his fingers brushing over yours in a move that felt purposely, he looked up at you as he set it on the table. “Going on break?” 

“Uh..” You blinked in surprise. Eavesdropping much?

“Yeah.” You nodded. “Um, she’ll-” You nodded to Kim at the counter, “Will bring out your food for you.”

“Alright,” He sips his coffee. Brows raised in surprise. “Pretty good. Was told you guys had great coffee.”

“Oh, yeah uh…The owner gets a real special brand. He’s a real stickler about good coffee and all. Wants the diner to be one of those diners that can truly say it has the worlds best coffee.” You threw your hands up, before smoothing them over your apron.

He nods, leaving you both in quiet silence. 

“Um, well…” You smiled, ��Enjoy!”

“I will.” He looked up at you, taking another sip of the coffee. “Enjoy your break.” 

“Thanks. You too!” 

He quirked a brow, the corner of his lip tilting up in amusement. 

“I-” You didn’t bother coming back from it.

You turned around, making a face at yourself and walking away from his table where you headed towards the kitchen, making fists at your side. Why did you have to be so awkward?

“He’s checking out your ass.” Maria mutters to you as you passed her- and you felt the embarrassment dig itself deeper. Ignoring her, you entered the kitchen passing the cook and out the back door- grabbing your purse on the way, scoffing at yourself for being a complete weirdo. 

Cold wind blew over your face- giving you a feeling of freedom from your job that you can feel is slowly taking away bits of your soul with every fatty meal you serve. 

You found a quiet spot at the back of the restaraunt. Your usual spot to hide from nosy coworkers or customers so you can decompress. The diner back into a vast woods, one that you have explored many times growing up and knew like the back of your hand. It was your favorite place- the only place where you could taste freedom, to be open and curious about the world. 

Reaching into your purse, you pulled out a pack of reds and a lighter, picking a cig from the pack and placing it between your lips. Truth be told- you didn’t actually like smoking. It tasted awful, made you smell, and was honestly a waste of money.

Yet you liked the feeling of choosing to do it anyway.

You used your hand to protect the flame of the lighter from the wind as you creased your brows in concentration, taking a deep breath as the butt begins to burn and ash. Smoke filled your lungs- and made you cough. 

You stared off into the distance- watching a cardinal as it lands on a branch, its wings fluttering as the cardinal seems to decide it’s next move. Then tipped your head up to the sky. Blue with some white fluffy clouds that seemed to idly float by. 

“Shouldn’t be smoking those.” You heard a deep voice by your side. You nearly jumped out of your skin, almost dropping the cigarette. You looked at him with wide eyes, and he just smirked. Reaching over, he plucked the cigarette out from between your fingers. “They’ll make you sick. You don’t even like em.” 

You scoffed- open your mouth wanting to share a few choice words for how he just walked up to you and snatched your cigarette away. You stared at him incredously- unbelieving of the nerve of this stranger, but your expression quickly fell and heat bloomed in your cheeks as he stuck your cigarette between his lips, and you could see his tongue run over the end- like he was trying to taste you off it. 

“How do you know?” You managed to say, sounding less angry than you wanted, your eyes looking up at him from your stolen cigarette, which was now resting on his lips. You were trying to be accusatory, to stand up for yourself against the stranger who’s presence had now become overwhelming- but your voice was instead quiet and timid. You didn’t realize when he was sitting in the booth just how big he was. He was towering over you. “You don’t know me.” 

His eyes trailed over your figure. “No, I don’t.” He says, a moment of hesitation in his voice. He took a puff of the cigarette. “But I can take a guess. You’re a pretty, young, innocent, lil lady, going to college in her hometown, working at a little diner just to make ends meet. You got an overbearing mother, you drive a ‘61 Chevy Corvair, passed down from your granddad. You like art, painting especially, blare your music with the windows down, and you hate ketchup- you think it smells weird.” 

You blinked. “Have you been stalking me?”

“It’s just a lucky guess, sweetheart.” 

You scoffed, crossing your arms and looking away. Now put off by him, figuring you encountered just another creep- this one happened to just be handsome.  “Well, maybe you should go away.” 

“Aw, cmon.” He removed the cigarette from his lips, dropping it to the ground and stomping it out with his foot. “Don’t be like that.” His hand came to your cheek, gently leading you to look back at him. He was even closer to you now. The scent of cigars and cologne clung to him, and made you lightheaded. “I can make a few more lucky guesses about you…” He grinned. ”That you carry the world on your shoulders, considerate and kind. You crave adventure. You want to see the world and what it’s got to offer….” 

His thumb brushed over your bottom lip. His eyes flicked down from yours, tracing over your parted lips. His turned low and suggestive. “and you want someone that’ll take good care of you, don’t you princess?” 

Now your heart was pounding out of your chest, holding your breath, unable to take away your eyes from the handsome stranger who had now completely captivated your attention. He had this arrogant look in his eyes but you couldn’t bring yourself to care despite all the signs that told you he was trouble. You could only imagine how you must look to him. 

“What…What’s your name?” You asked, remembering to breathe.

He seemed to pause for a moment. “James. But you can call me Logan.” His voice turned soft, lips forming into a handsome grin. Your knees went weak at that smile. His hand dropped to his side, and he braced the other against the wall as he leaned towards you. 

“Logan.” You repeat. “Why did you come back here? Don’t you have food you were waiting for?”

“Guess I was missing your face already.” He says. “You don’t see someone as beautiful as you often.” You pressed your lips together and looked away, bringing your hands together and anxiously fiddling with them. This man was so strange. 

You were used to unsolicited flirting, but for once you couldn’t mind him. Despite how…Brazen and odd he was being.

“Couldn’t wait another 10 minutes?” You remarked.

“Clearly.”

You smiled, a bit bashful as you avoided looking at his face. Silence filled the air, and all you could think about was how good he smelled. You could feel him staring at you, unable to take the silence longer- you decided to deflect him, distract from the strange feeling you had in your heart. 

“So..Logan, why are you here? Like why did you come to this little town? Not much to see around here, y’know. Unless it’s to lecture me about my habits and ask my recommendations off the menu…” 

A smirk at your comment. “Passing through.” He responds, his smile dropping. “Just uh……” He trailed off, and you could see him thinking. “Seeing a good friend of mine.” a half smile grew on his face as he says it and a glimmer in his eye. 

You nodded, dropping your gaze to the concrete and crossing your arms.”Who? I probably know them. Almost every knows everyone around here.”

“Ah, you wouldn’t.” He says. You looked back up at him.

“Try me.” 

He chuckled, shaking his head. “You really wouldn’t, sweetheart, trust me.” 

You sigh exasperated, and in the back of your head, it made you wonder if maybe it was a woman. There’s no way a man like him doesn’t already have a lady- probably multiple ladies under his arms. It irked you, to know that you’re likely not the first- or only woman who’s going to flirt with today. 

You’ll likely never see him again, though. 

“Where’d you come in from?” You ask, in attempt to find out more about the stranger- who seems to be so “lucky” at guessing about you. It’s not like you told him that it was true, but you needed to know his story.

How did he know your story? Was it that common? Were you predictable?

“New York. Westchester.” He says. 

“That’s a nice area. You live there?”

“Not exactly.” 

You pout. He smiled. 

“You’re cryptic aren’t you?” You mutter.

“For good reason, don’t worry about me.” He says. He reaches out, fixing a strand of hair back into place and smirking. 

“It’s still a little weird you know so much about me.” You say crossing your arms. “Or-” You caught yourself, “What you think you know about me.” He chuckles, silent for a moment- His eyes observing you.

“Your friends told me.” He says finally, letting the truth fall out. Your face fell. He smiled sympathetically. 

“I’m going to kill them.” You sighed dropping your arms to your side. Your friends mean well, always encouraging you to do more, especially in romance- but this was too much.

“I asked.” He tipped his head towards you. You looked up at him.

“Couldn’t ask me yourself?”

“You seem a bit shy…”

Embarrassment rushed through you. Only you were distracted by his hand gently gripping your chin to turn you to look back at him. 

“That’s okay.” He smiles. “It’s cute, seeing you like this.” 

The phrase was strange, but you couldn’t pay attention to that when you looked into his eyes. A pretty hazel color, you found a new sense of appreciation for it- It almost green in the sunlight. You couldn’t help but lean in closer to him. His smile grew. 

“Your breaks over- Ah-! Sorry!” Kim stops in her tracks as she pushed the door open. She suppressed a grin at the intimate moment you found yourself with the stranger. You quickly stepped away, while Logan dropped his hand to his side. 

His expression held a tiny bit of annoyance, not glancing at Kim. 

“Better get back to it, little missy.” He teases you. You rolled your eyes, 

“Your foods ready by the way, sir-” Kim says a bit awkwardly. He nods. 

“See ya inside.” He winks. 

He turns to walk back around the building, and you stood there watching him- completely dumbfounded. Kim was watching to, a faint smile on her face as she turned to look at you. You finally broke you stare when he turned around the corner, and met with Kims eyes. 

“That was cute.” She scrunched her nose. 

You shook your head, “I’m not talking to you.” you say in passing as you walked inside. 

“wh-What? I didn’t mean to interrupt the moment!”

When you went back inside, to your relief- or despair, Logan was gone, having taken the sandwich with him. He left behind his payment, and a hefty tip. You went to split it with Kim, since she technically did half of what you did. 

“No no, that was definitely all for you.” Kim giggled pushing the money away. 

“You literally gave him the food.”

“Yeah but he wasnt even at the table anymore when I brought it out. That tip is for you. Didn’t leave his number though…” 

“Are you sure?” You ask. “You said earlier you were strapped for cash.”

“Yeah but I helped that creepy dad with his kids while you were on break too, and he gave me a huge tip, and his number.” She winked. You gave her a forced smile, nose scrunching in digust.

“Your taste in men worry me.” Maria remarks. “Have you considered a therapist?”

You went through the rest of your work day, it was slow, and when you got off work decided on spending some of your hard earned cash at your favorite shop.

You drove down the familiar suburban streets and parked in the towns square, a busy little center of your small town with a park in the center, and various shops and restaurants surrounding it. As you walked the sidewalks, you found yourself searching for Logan. If he was visiting a friend, surely they would come hang out somewhere around here? Your little diner was just a fluke place that happened to be nearly on the outskirts of town- almost everything was located inside the square. 

You didn’t spot him anywhere to your disappointment- his eyes lingering in your memories. Shaking it away, you continued about your day, entering your favorite shop.

You stepped outside of the shop after a half hour of browsing, indecivisely deciding on what you wanted to buy. New records, jewlery, perfume, and a candy bar- for a treat.

Looking at the small park that was filled with people. Children were riding bikes, shooting out in front of cars who lay their horn. Couples holding hands as they walked down the street. Various other folks, playing frizbee, jogging, or just enjoying the afternoon. 

Your little small town was a beautiful place- and you did appreciate and admire it’s quirks and people. However, a nagging feeling resided in you- a feeling of wanting to see more. Like there was something out there- Meant for you.

That man, Logan, had hit the nail on the spot for what you wanted in your life- especially right now. 

Who was he really?

You thought about his face, his eyes and smile. It was like he walked right out of dream. You hope you’ll see him again; then again, maybe not. Him, with an awkward girl such as yourself? 

No chance that’s happening. 

You were lost in thought, walking on autopilot as you thought about the mysterious man that was Logan, and honestly, what an odd interaction it was.

You didn’t notice the man you were walking towards, but he noticed you.

“Well, hello again, honey.” 

You almost didn’t hear or notice him until his hand went to your shoulder to stop you. You looked up in surprise, and felt your stomach sink in dread.

Your customer from earlier, the father who had more of an interest in a girl twice younger than him, rather than an interest in spending time with his children. The one who somehow managed to get lucky enough to appearance Kims poor decisions and have her take his number. His smile made you uncomfortable, and the grip on your shoulder sent alarms off. 

Gently stepping away, you forced a smile.

“Hello,” You say simply. 

“You off work?” 

“Uh…”

“Silly question.” He laughed, “Seeing you got groceries and all. I’m done too, yknow, babysitting.” He makes a cringing face, as if spending time with his kids was unwanted thing. 

“Okay.” You nodded, glancing around for an excuse to escape this awkward interaction. 

“Now I know you turned down giving me your number earlier but uh…Seeing we both got free time, maybe we can go get a coffee?”

“Oh-” You forced a smile. “I’m sorry but I’m just not interested, and I have assignments for classes that are due tomorrow and all.” You nod, hoping he’ll take that for an answer. He doesn’t.

“It’s just for an hour, what’s the harm?” 

“I’m sorry but no-” You say firmly, turning away to get away from the creep. Only you felt him grab your arm and yank you back to him. 

“Why are you being so rude? I was polite to you lady.” 

“Hey, let me go-” You try to tug your arm free, but his grip tightened. 

“Your generation is full of stuck ups, you know that?” He sneers. “I-”

“Hey bub.” 

You and the man both turned your heads, where Logan stood- an unimpressed look on his face. He grabbed the wrist of the hand holding you- squeezing it so tight the asshole had to let go of you, which you quickly yanked yourself away and watched with wide eyes.

“Hey! Mind your business, let me go!” He shoves at Logan who didn’t even budge from his touch, before attempting to wiggle his arm free. Logan twisted it, making him shout in pain, before his other fist come up to his face.

You watched in bewilderment as three sharp and boney, claw-like appendages slid out from between his knuckles, in front of the eyes of your attacker. He shouts in surprise.

“What the hell?!” 

“Don’t touch her, don’t look at her, don’t even fucking think about her- or these are going to go where the sun don’t shine, got it?” 

He barely lets out a whimper before Logan shoves him to the ground. You let out a small gasp, your eyes staring at the claws on his fist- not even the man as he attempts to scurry away in fear. You watched them retract back into his hand- small bloody cuts that healed over just as quickly as they appeared. 

You were so flabbergasted you didn’t even hear Logan ask if you were okay. 

“Hey-” He snapped his fingers in front of your face, snapping you out of your trance. “You got your head in the clouds sweetheart, you need to be careful.” 

“Oh- Um..Thank you.” You say, blinking a few times. “I didn’t even notice him.”

“That’s what I mean, he’d been watching you since you left that shop.” He says, brows creasing as he looks down at you. “Gotta get out of the pretty head of yours and focus on what’s going on around you. Wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” 

“Right.” You laughed nervously, attempting to snap out of the haze you were finding yourself in. You couldn’t get the image of his claws out of your head, as your eyes went down to his fist again. He caught you staring. 

“That scare you?” He asks, and you watched his fist clench at his side. 

“Well it was…A little strange to see- Did I see that right?” You looked up at him. He smiled, noticing people approaching from behind you. His hand went to your hip, gently encouraging you to step to the side into an alleyway next to where you were.

He didn’t need to be flashing those all over the place anyway.

Your mind went to the feeling of his hand on your hip- noticing how warm it felt, like it belonged there. 

“Why don’t you see for yourself?”

His hands made a fist, and you gasped as you heard a Snikt! Revealing boney claws protruding from between his knuckles. Your mouth hung open, as you reached your hand up to touch them- but stopped, looking at him. 

“Go ahead, just be careful, they’re sharp.” 

You nodded, touching one and feeling the rigid surface. “That’s…” You shook your head. “That’s amazing! And you can heal too?”  

“I sure can.”

“Is it…Like magic?”

He smiled, like he knew you were going to say that. “I’m a mutant sweetheart.” 

“A mutant? I thought…” You pulled your hand away. “I thought they… were dangerous.” 

He frowned, his claws retracted back into his fists. “Who told you that?” 

“Well….” You looked away, a nervous laugh escaping you. “You know how the world is. Everythings bad news now.”

“Do I look dangerous to you?” He stepped closer, his voice low. You looked down, fiddling with your hands, stammering with your answer but his hand came up to cup your chin- forcing you to look up at him. “Hm?” 

“You…You seem nice.” Your voice was practically a squeak, and he smirked. “I just…You hear all this stuff about them.”

“I know. You don’t know better. Yet.” 

You blinked up at him. His eyes regarding you with gentleness, understanding. It felt like he understood you. Like he gets it, everything you feel. Like he saw right through you.

“Logan?....” 

“Yeah?” 

“I-”

“Who is this?” 

Your body and soul jumped at the shrill sound of your mothers voice. You stepped back and Logan only looked extremely irritated. 

“Mama-” 

“What are you doing?” She walks over. “You- Stay away from my daughter-!” She points at him, but he didn’t look too impressed. 

“Ain’t here to hurt her, ma’am.” His tone one of annoyance. He dropped his hand to his side, claws retracting.

“Sure you’re not, you mutie.” She hisses. “I saw your…Your claws! You freak!” She sneers, and spits at his shoes, but he only smirked. “Come on, I’m taking you home.” She snatches your arm, dragging you along with her out of the alleyway. 

“Mom!” You tried to argue but she only tugged you to continue following her.  “I’m sorry,” You looked back, apologizing to Logan, but he smiled. 

“S’alright sweetheart, I’ll see you later.” He winked at you, before moving to pull a cigar out of his jacket. You stumbled, and looked back at him- fascination growing in you as the magic man stood in the alley, watching you with half-lidded eyes as he smoked. 

Something inside you stirred, hearing his words. He’s so sure of it.

You were going to make sure of it as well. Initially brushing Logan off wasn’t the plan anymore- You felt like a magnet, drawn to him.

Your mother shoved you into her car, before her heels clicked against the concrete loudly as she walked to the drivers side. She was silent as she got in, keys clashing and her purse tossed to the floor of the car by your feet. 

“I have my own car.” You argued, 

“Well clearly you can’t be trusted to be alone. We’ll go get it tomorrow.” She mutters. You scoff in disbelief, but she didn’t say another word.

You didn’t say a word either. Frustrated by your mother's protectiveness. She insists the world is out to get you. You had to fight tooth and nail to go to college, to have most of your independence. Some days you feel like you won the war, your mother letting go of her tie on you just a little bit more- but then things like this happen.

It was silent the entire drive home- but you held your own. Irritation of her interrupting your conversation with Logan. Yes, maybe you were curious, Logan was handsome, he seemed kind, he had your attention - but you’re not dumb. 

You kept your head high and shoulders straight. 

It wasn’t until she pulled into the driveway that she finally spoke. 

“Why were you with him?” She asks, her tone full of irritation. “Who was he?”

“A customer. I was saying hello to him because I saw him earlier today.” You say casually. 

“So what, he was just…showing you his…Mutation?” She says with disdain. 

“So what if he was?” You asks. “You always acted like mutants are sooo terrible, but why? They’re just people. They’re bad people out there too, that aren’t mutants.”

“We’re not talking about other people we are talking this man you’re hanging out with. How old is he? He looks much older than you.” 

“Okay? And?” You say. “We were just talking.” You finally turned towards her. “He actually helped me, I was being harassed by another man and he scared him away.” 

Your mother scoffs, shaking her head. “Using his claws?” She asks in disgust. 

You rolled your eyes. Grabbing your shopping bag and purse, you left the car without saying another word to her.

On one hand, you knew your mom meant well. She was screwed over by your father who you never met- young and left alone to raise a child in a society who looked down on her... There was a time where you two were best friends but as you grew older, curious, and wanting your independence she clung to you tight- but it would made you struggle harder. 

On the other, the hatred she spews about other people. Especially mutants. You never took her too serious. The way she treated Logan though- awful.

You went straight to your room, changing from your work uniform into a simple outfit, jeans and a blouse. There was a paper for class due in a few days - but working on it seemed futile. Logan kept crowding your mind. After another attempt to reread a passage of the book your paper was about- you slammed it shut and looked at the ticking clock that sat on your messy desk. It was evening now, as you glanced out the window and saw the sky was beginning to fade, the blue of it still visible, but the evening sun had grown tired and was beginning to set. 

You hadn’t snuck out in a long time. A very long time. Able to more boldly leave the house in the past but this time you didn’t feel like having another argument or dealing with the headache of your mother's worries. 

You wanted to see Logan, a man who just seems magical to you. He seemed so confident, sure of himself and the world. 

Walking over to it, you shoved your broken window up, the frame was uneven, making the window nearly impossible to open without having to smack your palm against it to push it up. It squeaked, fighting against you before you finally got it up enough that allowed you to squeeze out. 

You turned back to grabbed your bag, and when you looked out the window-

You’re greeted by the sight Logan on your lawn. 

“Sneaking out darling?” He calls up to you.

“What!- What are you doing here?” You kept your voice low, at risk of your mother hearing you- or noisy neighbors who snitch. 

“Was going to do some old fashion serenading but I forgot my guitar.” He smirks at his sarcasm. “You going somewhere?”

“Uh….” You turned to sit on the windowsill, looking away from him. You didn’t want to admit you were sneaking out to see him. You wanted to talk to him more, you liked his kindness, fascinated that he was a mutant- but you couldn’t admit that.

Or maybe it was the way he looked at you. Someone to be desired.

“I was thinking about just going out.” 

“Why not use the front door?”

“I got into a fight with my mom.” You say, embarrassed at how childish it sounds. You began to fiddle with your hair, trying to style it and distracting yourself. 

“And don’t feel like dealing with her more, yeah?” 

You sighed, letting your hands dropping in your lap. 

“I don’t blame ya. Come on sweetheart.” He waved his hand at you to come out. “Lets go for a drive.” 

You face fell at his offer- you probably shouldn’t go drive around with a man you just met, but then you look at him and your mind led you to wonder if Logan was searching for something more than the pleasure of your company- with the way you see his eyes scanning over your figure; and you wouldn’t mind giving it to him. 

So you smiled, and nodded. Returning to climb out, you first stuck your legs out until your hips were out the window. You had to be careful, your window was located several feet from the ground. Not a terrible fall but wouldn’t feel great if you did. 

Fortunately, you’ve had a lot of practice. 

Twisting yourself so you were now facing your bedroom, you began to climb out. You felt his hands on your hips, holding onto you securely as you climbed out, allowing you to hop to the ground safely. He didn’t let go of you, making you bump into his chest. 

“Sorry,” You looked up at him, but he just smiled- his hands tightening on your hips, before letting go, reaching for your hand and taking it in his.

He led you to his car, a black Buick- a nice car. You couldn’t help but wonder if he had some money. He did say he was from Westchester. 

When you reached it, he reached over and opened the passenger side for you, letting go of your hand so you could get into the car. 

“Buckle up.” He winks at you, before shutting the door and walking to the other side. 

He climbed in, a small groan escaping him as he shuts the door, and starts the car.

“You need to put on your seatbelt.” You tell him, repeating the same sentiment. He smirks. 

“I don’t need it.” He throws the car into drive, 

“What, you can heal so you just throw yourself into danger anyway?” 

“Something like that.”

You both were in silence, save for the radio that played rock music. You reached over, turning it up to fill the silence. a Led Zeppelin song was playing- one of your favorites.

“Knew you would do that.” He says quietly, a thoughtful look on his face. You looked at him, adjusting yourself against the seat.

“How?” 

“You…” He stopped, “Just seem like the type to like this band.” 

You made a face, unbelieving of his expression. “Sure….” 

“You hungry? You have dinner yet?” He asks, quickly changing the subject.

“Um no dinner yet.” You shook your head. “I’m a little hungry, but you don’t need to buy me anything.” He turned on his blinker despite your words, turning into a parking lot of a fast food place. As he reached the speaker, the cashier spoke up asking for the order.

Before you could tell him what you wanted- He said it. The exact order you were going to ask for. You stared at him in disbelief, brows creased and lips set in a frown. After he finished yours, he said his own. The cashier gave the total and told him to pull up to the window. 

He began driving, glancing at you, and then a double take when catching your expression. 

“What?”

“I-” You shook your head. “You know what, I’m not going to ask. I’m just gonna assume maybe your mutation includes reading minds or something.” 

He smirked. He pulled up to the window, taking out his wallet and paying the cashier, grabbing the food and handing them to you. 

“I can pay you back,” You offer.

“No,” He shook his head. You reached into the paper bag, searching for Logans order, and unwrapping it for him before handing it over. “Thanks sweetheart.” He took a bite, as he continued to drive. 

“Where are we going?” You asked.

“Any requests?” 

You shrugged, tossing a fry into your mouth. “Why are you um…Y’know, trying to hang around me?”

You thought you knew, but you wanted to hear his excuse.

He quirked a brow. “The last few times we’ve run into each other is just a coincidence.” He says, before taking another bite of his food. 

“Sure…” You spare him a side glance. He showed up at your house. Another moment of silence. “Did you see your friend?”

“Yeah, I did.” 

More silence.

“Logan.”

“Yeah?”

“Who are you?” 

He didn’t say anything, but you swear you saw the corner of his lips twitch, resisting a smile. You watched him, observing the details of his face. Your eyes glanced around the car you sat in, and went to casually toss another fry in your mouth, still staring at him suspiciously. You could tell he was wracking in his head an answer to tell you.

“You’ll find out.” He says. You blink. “But I’m a friend.” He quickly adds. 

“That is SO cryptic oh my god!” You laughed, shaking your head. 

“I know it doesn’t make sense but-”

“No, no, far be it for me to yknow…Be nosy I guess.” You shrugged. He smirked. You heard the turn signal flip on, and he turned into a park. It was a place you’ve went to before with friends. It had a big lake to swim and boat in, and hiking trails. 

“Heard the sunset was pretty to watch here.” He says, changing the subject, again.  

“It is.” You ate another fry as he parked the car. “I would come here to watch it with my friends.” 

“Yeah.” He sits. “C’mon, lets watch it.” He opens the driver door, stepping out. You stared at him dumbfounded as he walked around the car, and opening the passenger side. He waves with two fingers for you to hop out, grabbing the fast food bag for you. 

He had you sit on the hood, laying his jacket over it and lifting you up to sit. Everytime his hands touched you- you thought about the claws. You didn’t feel a single ounce of danger though. Logan felt safe, his touch was warm, and the way his eyes regarded you- it made you bashful, unable to look at him for long. 

You ate together in silence. 

“So, what do you want to do, after college?” He asks.

You don’t recall telling him you’re in college- oh well.

You answered, telling him about your degree. He listened to every word, eyes focused on you. He smiled at the stories you delved into, yapping away without realizing. It just felt comfortable to talk. It simply isn’t easy for you to open up to anyone- especially a stranger like Logan. There was an energy between you that fit. He interjected occasionally, his own sarcastic comment or to compliment you. You talked like you were old friends.

At some point his hand reached over, brushing against your thigh. You glanced at him with a curious look. 

He quirked a brow, “Just grabbing my cigar.” He says, hand climbing into the pocket of his jacket.

“Oh.” 

You watched him. A single claw popped out, slicing the cap of the cigar off, before he stuck it between his lips, lighting it with an old flip lighter. 

“Can I try?” 

He glanced at you. “You don’t like smoking.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I just wanna try.”

He clicked his tongue, handing the cigar to you. You barely under how to hold it- to big between your fingers like a regular cigarette. So you settled to keep it pinched between your thumb and forefinger. Your brought it to your lips.

“Just don’t-”

You took a deep inhale, only to fall into a rough coughing fit that brought tears to your eyes. You gave it back to him, hacking a lung and he reached a hand over to rub your back. 

“Okay.” You cleared your throat, quickly wiping away the tears. “You’re right I don’t like it.” 

“It’s about the taste sweetheart. You’re not supposed to inhale it.” 

“Yeah? I’ll pass anyway….” You trailed off, now embarrassed that you hacked a lung out in front of him. 

The sky changed into oranges and pinks, the deep blue slowly bleeding into it as the sun disappeared in the horizon, leaving you and Logan in the dark. Your food was finished, and you both sat in empty silence.

“Ready to go home?” He asks. 

You didn’t want to. You didn’t want to leave Logan either. You nodded anyway, taking Logans hand as you hopped down from the hood. He grabbed his jacket and pulled it on, before following you to the passenger door and opening it for you.

“Logan.” You stopped, leaning against the open door. 

“I don’t really want to go back home yet.” You say quietly. He smirked.

He brought you to the motel on the outskirts of your little town.

“Stay here, I’ll pay for a room and come back, k?” 

You nodded, watching him climb out and leaving you in the car. You waited quietly, listening to the crickets chirping softly outside. You were left to your thoughts until a knock on the window took your attention. The door opened, and you climbed out, where Logan put his arm around you and led you to the room. 

He unlocked and opened the door, before handing you the key. 

He walked in after you, shutting the door behind him. “One of the nicer motels I’ve been to…” He mutters quietly looking around the room, walking to peer into the bathroom, and then the closet- he looked like he was checking for people. “Should be safe, but keep that door locked.”

He was right, you never actually stayed in a motel before but heard stories- this place, It wasn’t bad, it looked clean with simple cream painted walls, and the typical brown checker patterned curtains and bedsheets and red carpet to match.  You look at him over your shoulder.

“You’ve been to a lot of motels?”

“I’ve traveled a bit.”

“Yeah? Like where?” Your face brightened, as you turned to sit on the edge of the bed and tilting your head.

He chuckled, walking over to sit next to you, the mattress groaning under his weight. “Lots of places. Been all over the states, and a few countries.” 

“Wow, really?” You brought your legs up, criss crossing them on your lap. “For fun or?”

“Uh. Work.” He says. “Mostly. Some of it was because I didn’t have a home, so I was just wandering.” 

“No home?” You asked softly. “You don’t have any family or anything?”

“Well….” He looked at you. “I do. I just didn’t always have them in my life.” 

You smiled. “They are now?”

A heartbeat passed, a solemn expression on his face before he quickly turns neutral. “Yeah.” 

You nodded, taking a deep breath, before looking back at him with excitement. “So, the places you visited?”

“Ah, heh.” He leaned back on the bed on his side, using his elbow to brace him up and looked up at you. “Few places in Europe, France, Germany, England, some other smaller countries around there. Vietnam, Japan.”

“Vietnam…” You fiddled with you fingers, glancing down and back up at him, “Were you in the army?” 

“Yeah, I was.”

You nodded, deciding not to ask more about it. It was a sensitive topic these days anyway. 

He continued recounting a few places he traveled. “There’s city called Madripoor I was living in for a bit- for work- it’s in Southeast Asia.” 

“Really? What was it like?”

“Ah, this place was disguised to look like a paradise but it was filled with trash. Crime-ridden and everything. It had it’s own charm though.” 

“Sounds like an interesting place.” You sounded amused. 

“Heh, you…” He trailed off, his smile fading for a moment. “You didn’t-” He stopped, correcting himself. “- wouldn’t have liked it, so you’re not missing out.” 

You added that to your growing list of odd things about Logan.

“No?” 

“Nah.” He pushed himself back up. 

“Well, out of all the places you’ve been to, which one would I like? Especially since you seem to know so much about me anyway….” 

He laughs, and without hesitation answers your question, looking off at the wall with a dreamlike expression. “France. You would like France.”

“Yeah? Sounds nice…Too bad I probably won’t ever get to go there one day.”

“Ah, don’t worry sweetheart. I get the feeling you will.” He reached a hand over, placing it on your knee and squeezing it. You looked up at him, 

“Must be true, because you know everything about me.” You mention again. He didn’t say anything, but looked at you. “How do you know it all?”

“I’m just good at reading people.” 

You laughed, shaking your head. “That’s more than reading people!” You giggled. “You knew I don’t like ketchup because of it’s smell! You knew my exact order at that restaurant, That i’m a college student and..those other things…I know you said that you asked my friends but they said you didn’t ask them anything, unless they’re lying…” You shook your head. “Is this just some…Really elaborate prank?” 

“No prank sweetheart.” He says. 

“No? So…” You clasped your hands together in your lap. “Why are we here?” 

“You asked to come here.” 

“Well-” You stammered and looked away.

He smirked, leaning in closer to you. Your heartbeat grew fast at his proximity. “I just- this is really strange I mean…You’re visiting your friend, and I’m...just some random waitress?” You glanced down at his lips. 

“You’re not just some random waitress. You’re also gorgeous” He hums. You laughed again, attempting to hide your fluster. 

“You’re changing the subject.”

“For a good reason.” He leans in closer. 

“Being?” You didn’t budge, even as you could feel his breath on your lips, your eyes didn’t leave his even in his close proximity. Your heart was pounding out of your chest. 

He hummed, his lips brushing over yours as he talked. “Remember how you called me magic earlier?”

“Yeah…”

“Lets just say all this is magic. Alright baby?” 

You stared at him incredously, your lips just barely touching, and you burst into laughter. “Magic, yeah?” 

He chuckled at your mirth. “Yeah, it’ll make sense one day.” 

You didn’t stop him as he leaned in to press a kiss against your lips. It was so soft you could barely feel him. You felt yourself leaning into him. His hand resting on your knee squeezed it gently, before sliding up your thigh. 

It was like something triggered in you, and you stood up abruptly and stepped away from him.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” He says standing up, concern on his face.

“No! No, don’t be. I just…Realized how insane I’m being right now.” You reassure, and nervously laugh. “God I just- What am I doing?” You looked at him. He raised a brow. “I don’t know you but I just…Snuck off with you like it was nothing?” 

“Well…”

“Every time you look at me I just get this feeling like…Like in the pit of my stomach-”

“I could probably tell you what that is.” His tone cocky as he smirks, but you just shot him a scowl. 

“Not that.” You scoff. Although you couldn’t deny you felt that too. “It’s like… Like I’ve always known you. I never felt that before. Like I could trust you. Then you act SO weird and know all this stuff and honestly I should have ran away back at the diner but instead I just want to be closer. Now I’m here in some random motel- with you, I only known you a few hours, and it feels right but…” 

He stepped closer. “Then why deny it?” 

“I…Don’t know.” You looked at him, wides eyes and nerves on fire. “I don’t know what I should do.” 

He brought his hand to your cheek. “C’mere. I’ll show you.” 

Leaning in, he met you for another kiss. Sweet and gentle- you never shared one that felt so loving. Past kisses felt awkward, forced, but his felt like he knew how to fit his lips against yours. You leaned forward, deepening the kiss. His hand moved from your cheek, climbing into your hair. 

His lips moved against you, parting open to lick your bottom lip for entrance and you let him in. The feeling of his tongue surprised you. Warm, invasive- you weren’t sure how to counter it. A small chuckle escaped him. 

“Don’t be shy gorgeous.” He purrs. “Just follow my lead.” 

You swallowed, heart pounding in your chest. You pushed down your doubts, hesitation, for once you were going to take the leap and do something absolutely insane. Finally nodding, you kissed him back, attempting to return the same passion he was giving you. Another warm chuckled escaped him,

“Hey!” You muttered, “I’m new at this….”

“I know darling, you aint’ doing nothing wrong.” He brought his other hand to caress your cheek. “C’mon, give me some more sugar.” 

Now it was your turn to giggle. “That was so cheesy!” You teased him, ignoring the rush your body felt when he said it.

“You liked it though, didn’t you?” He hums, pressing his forehead against yours. 

“Maybe….” 

“And you like how I taste, hm?” 

Your face turned hotter, your thighs pressing together at his words. You nodded in reply. He was impossible, but you couldn’t stop now.

“You have no idea sweetheart, the things you can do.” He mumbles. “Don’t worry about me, alright, because all I am to you is someone who wants to take care of you- alright?”

Meeting his eyes, they were so intense the way they looked into you- right through you. You nodded. Maybe putting your full trust into someone you met wasn’t the smartest thing to do. You, all in-experienced and awkward shouldn’t be hanging with a man twice your age-

But hey, its memories, right?

He met your lips again, and you responded with the same eagerness. Slowly, but surely, you began to figure it out- melting into a deep sensual kiss that made you moan- your body pressing into him and your hands tightening its grip on his jacket. You were becoming light-headed- unused to the lack of air- you had to pull yourself away gasping, a string of spit connecting your lips. 

Logan’s eyes looked dark, he didn’t give you much time to catch your breath, his hand came to cup the back of your neck, pulling you back to him again as he captured you in another deep, searing, messy kiss. He swallowed your moans, responding with his own that made your panties uncomfortably wet.

His free hand, settled on your hip, slid up your shirt, cupping one tit and you gasped pulling back. 

“Too much?” He asks gently, 

“I- I just…”

“It’s okay, we don’t gotta do anything you don’t want to…” He mumbles gently, bumping his nose against yours. You shook your head,

“I want to. I just never did anything…like this.” It makes your face burn to admit that, a hit to your ego- especially to admit it to a man like him who is likely able to get ass whenever he wants. It made you wonder, 

Why me?

“S’alright. We can take it slow, stop whenever you want. How about we start with me first?” He smiles. He leaned back, grabbing your wrists. “Take off my jacket.” 

You nodded, helping him slide it down his arms, dropping it to the floor. He leaned down, catching you in another kiss as he brought your hands to the first button of his shirt. Your fingers traced over the cool fabric, before you carefully undid one button. 

“Thatta girl.” He smiled against your lips. “That’s what this is all about, taking care of each other. Understand?”

You nodded, undoing another button, and another, your fingers working quicker with each one to get the shirt off him faster, anticipation filling your lower belly. He rested his forehead against yours, waiting patiently as you undressed him and helped you slid the shirt off his shoulders. 

Your eyes practically bulged at his biceps, your hand coming up to stroke his muscles- you noted that his bicep was bigger than your entire hand. 

“You like it?” He smirked at your expression. He flexed, making the muscles, along with several prominent veins pop out. Your mouth fell open in a soft gasp.

You’re not going to survive this.

You traced your hands to his chest, where a white undershirt left it covered, your hand resting where his heart was beating. You didn’t catch the look he gave you- a look of yearning, an ache in his eyes. 

“You like your layers don’t you?” You smiled looking up at him. He laughed. 

“I’m from Canada.”

“That explains a lot.” 

He grabbed your hand, pressing his lips to your palm. “That suppose to mean something?” he mumbles into it. You stared at him a bit dumbfounded by his lips against your hand. He smiled down at you, leaning forward to catch you in another kiss- reminding you of where you both were. 

Feeling more confident, you grabbed the bottom hem of his tank, tugging it free from being tucked in his jeans, you lifted it over his head breaking the kiss, only to immediately return again. You pulled away once more, hands pressed to his pecs as you take in his chest- wide, hairy, muscular, you bit your lip and began wondering how the actual fuck you got so lucky.

You noticed the dogtags that rested on his chest. Your hand slid over to take them between your fingers. Two sets of tags, one had his name. “James Logan Howlett” You whispered.

“That’s me.”

The other, “Wolverine?” You looked up at him. A gentle expression in his eyes, he brought his hand over yours. 

“That’s me as well.” 

“What does it mean?” 

“It’s a long story.” He says. “Not all of it good. But it’s led me here…” He stepped closer. “In your arms.” 

You looked up at him with bright eyes, and nodded. “You’re here with me.” You say. He smiled, squeezing your hand.

“Now…Want to see more?” He asks, his low, almost a purr. He took your hand, bringing it down to his belt. “You can take it off.”

You stared at the belt, fascinated by the buckle that you traced with your fingers. Hesitation at first- wondering if you thought you were ready. You looked up at Logan, who waited patiently for your next move, and he gives you an encouraging nod. 

The belt clinked as you removed it, and then in turn focused on the button and zipper of his jeans. Your hands shook slightly, as you noticed the bulge that sat in the confines- but curiosity only made you keep going. 

Tugging the zipper open, you found he didn’t even have underwear underneath. Greeted by a bulging vein and a mess of dark curls that disappeared deeper into his jeans, you looked up at him with wide eyes. 

His arrogant smirk grew wider as his thumbs hooked into the belt loop of his jeans and he pushed them down. 

An audible gasp escapes you as you take in his girth. He was big. Hair covering most of him. His cock hung heavy, a thick vein ran from his pelvis to his tip, red and swollen- you could almost see it throbbing. 

You felt your mouth water staring at it. 

“What do you think?” 

“I-” You couldn’t think of a reply. He once again grabbed your hand, placing it on his belly. 

“Go on baby, you can touch it. It’s all for you.” His voice rumbles low, sending shivers down your spine. Your nails gently scraped the skin of his belly, lowering to his base. You fingers tracing the vein to the tip- soft, like you were afraid you would hurt him. “Here…” 

He gently led your hand to wrap around him. You noted how firm he felt, his skin hot, and he throbbed under your touch. “I like it like this.” He squeezed your hand, making you hold him tighter. A small groan escaped him. “Normally, you want to get it a little wet first.” He removed your hand, and spit into your palm, then nodded at you to return. You obliged, and began stroking him up and down. “Good girl..” He breathes, “Just like that.” He tipped his head back, his Adams apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed hard. “Lil faster…..” 

You watched a milky white fluid bead at his tip, your hand coming up around it, and rubbing your thumb over the slit.

“Fuck- that’s good baby, keep doing that.” He mutters. His hand on your shoulder climbing into your hair, and he tugged you forward to kiss him. Hot, open mouth kisses, he began pressing them along your jaw and neck. You slowed your stroking over him, distracted by the feeling of his teeth and tongue, a small wince when he nipped at the crook of your neck. You heard breathy groans leaving him with each press of his lips as you stroked him faster- now wanting to watch the end result as you felt him grow harder in your hand. 

But he stopped you. 

Breathless, he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “That’s good sweetheart-” 

“But-”

“Lets save that part for the end yeah?” He mumbles, taking your hand off him. His head fell to your shoulder and you watched his stomach flex- resisting the building orgasm until the tension in his belly disappeared. 

“Want to give yourself a try?” He mumbles into your ear. 

“I….Maybe. I think so…” You say quietly. You had butterflies, a million worries in your mind over the thought of undressing and being with this man- for your first time ever. 

“Don’t worry, you’ll enjoy it.”

His voice was like a growl, goosebumps ran down your arms as he met your lips again. He slowly took your shirt off, before returning to kiss your lips, before messily moving down your chin and your neck. You shrieked when he suddenly picked you up, hands on your thighs and placed you onto the bed. 

Moving down to press kisses to your collarbone and the top of your breasts, his hand kept him supported above you, while his free hand roamed over your curves. 

“Just tell me if it becomes too much, alright?” 

You nodded, but you already knew you didn’t want him to stop at all. It didn’t matter how overwhelming it felt, how the butterflies in your belly felt like they were ravaging your insides. You wanted him, 

You needed him.

He had some kind of spell on you. He talked to you like he’s known you your whole life. His eyes carried something inside that made you want to discover what it was. His hands, calloused and rough, still felt delicate when he touched you. In your head flashed the claws that he so menacingly threatened the creep from earlier today with- but you felt no fear. He mapped out your body like he knew it- he was a stranger to you but his touch wasn’t strange.

He grabbed the cups of your bra, tugging them down to expose your breasts. Your nipples peaked to the cool air. You heard him muttering, ‘perfect’ under his breath. 

You gasped when you felt his tongue swirl over a bud. Then he switched to the other one, repeating the same motion. He pressed kisses over your breasts- gentle and filled with tenderness as he worships your breasts before finally taking one into his mouth and sucking, using a free hand to play with the other one. 

The feeling of his lips and tongue made your core ache, almost painful. Your hand came up into his hair, shutting your arms and arching your back into him, desperate for more. 

He let go of the first one, turning his attention to the second and repeating the same action. His tongue flicked at your peaked nipple as he looked up at you with a sinful smile. 

“You got some pretty tits darling.” He grinned, and heat rushed through your body to your core at his words. Only managing a small gasp in response.

He continued pressing pecks over your breasts, upgrading to small love bites before he moved down your belly. 

He hands moved to your jeans, sitting up to unbutton them slowly and carefully watching your reactions. You were nervous- but you were nowhere near ready to stop. “Want me to take this off?”

You nodded, helping him by lifting your hips off the bed as he slid your jeans off, along with your shoes and discarded them to the side. He stood over your, his eyes grazing over you barely-clad figure. 

He leaned back over you, slow and careful in his movements. One hand on your knee, he gently pushed it open, allowing him to slot himself between your legs. He braced himself on an elbow over you, his free hand reaching to snap at your bra.

“Lets get rid of this pesky thing, hm?” He asks. You nodded. His hand clenched, and a single claw came out, making you gasp as you watched him carefully tuck it under the center piece of your bra, and ripping it. He then ripped the straps, and tugged the torn remnants of your bra to the side, leaving you completely bare over him.

He towered over you, his weight a comforting- but a significant presence against you. His cock rested on your belly. He pressed a few more soft kisses to your lips, and along your jaw. 

“Doing alright darling?” He hums in your ear. You brought your arms to wrap around his waist, and nodded. “Yeah? You sure?”

“I’m okay.” You reassure.

He pressed a kiss to your temple, leaning down to nip your ear. “Fun fact about me sweetheart….The claws, and the healing factor ain’t the only thing I can do.” 

“No?” You tilted your head to look at him. 

“No. I got some good senses too. I can hear how fast your pretty heart is beating.” 

Your lips parted as you processed what he was saying. He moved to press a peck to the tip of your nose. 

“Could hear how fast it was every time I got close.” He was looking into your eyes now. “I can smell you too- how wet you were getting. How wet you are now.”

His hand slithered between your bodies, finding your panties and pressing over them, two fingers rubbing circles into the fabric where you clit was. He smirked at your expression. “Panties are soaked. First time a mans touched you like..Right?”

“Uh…”

“Nothing to be embarrassed about.” He leans down to nuzzle against your cheek. “I’ll show you how to be taken care of- just the way you like it.” 

Pressing another reassuring kiss to your cheek, he began working down your torso again, leaving kisses to each tit, and then a trail down to the hem of your panties. As he reached your core, he pushed your thighs onto his shoulders, before dragging you down to the edge of the bed with his arms hooked around them. 

“Mm.” He hummed, admiring your wet panties, leaning forward to take a deep inhale. “Fuck.” He cursed under his breath. You covered your mouth at the sight of him. “Smell fucking amazing sweetheart.” He groaned. He stuck his tongue out, lapping at the wet that stained your panties and moaned, his eyes rolling back as he licked at it again, using more pressure that made your muscles tense in reaction. He noticed, opening his eyes to look up at you. “Relax darling, it’s going to feel better if you do, promise.” 

You watched him return to your core as you attempted to settle your nerves. Leaning forward, he found your clit through your panties and wrapped his lips around them.

“Oh!” You gasped, your head falling back at the warmth that engulfed you. You stared up at the popcorn ceiling, mysterious stains speckled over it but you couldn’t focus on that as Logan sucked on your clit through your panties. 

His hands cradled your thighs, small groans escaping his throat as he savored your taste. He finally lifted his head, tugging your panties off and discarding them to the side. You closed your legs as he returned his hands to your knees.

“Come on.” His hands squeezed your knees, his eyes heavy with lust. “I want to see your pretty little pussy.”

You nearly imploded at his words, but he just grinned and forced your legs to spread, his large hands felt warm against your skin, pushing them apart 

“Ah!” You couldn’t tear your eyes away. He was looking down at your core, practically drooling at the sight. You saw his cock jump against his stomach, his tip beading more pre-cum. His hands firmly kept your thighs spread as he lowered his face to your core and began teasingly lapping at your folds. Your breath hitched at the feeling of his warm tongue, hands snapping into his hair. His eyes opened to look up at you, lifting his head up just enough for you to see, he teasingly flicked over your clit with a sinful grin. 

Filthy.

Your grip in his hair tightened, and he groans, diving further into your pussy, as he continues to drink up everything you were giving him. Only coming up once to speak,

“Taste like fucking heaven darling-” He coos, his beard and lower half of his face glistening with your juices, before returning to his place.

You squirmed, his tongue swirling over your clit in circles. Lifting your hips off the bed, you began to wiggle, your hands tugging at his hair. You grind your hips against his face involuntarily, your body instinctively seeking out the finish you were craving. 

“Logan-” You whimpered. His hands came up, pinning your hips to the mattress. He mumbled something against you but you couldn’t understand or bother to even focus. 

You felt his tongue delve into your hole, and you tugged at his hair hard- it must have hurt, because he moaned in response. Loud.

The longer he lapped at you like a man dying of thirst, the tighter the feeling in your lower belly grew. Your muscles tensed, and you squeezed your thighs around his head. His lips wrapped around your clit again, and finally you reached your peak. 

It was stars in your eyes, ripples of pleasure rushing through your body. Your mouth fell open, repeating Logan's name over and over- you didn’t even know what you were doing, your body just reacting on impulse. 

You never felt something so good before.

Just as it ended, you wanted more. 

Logan seemed to understand that. He never stopped. His eyes falling open to look up at you as your chest heaved and aftershocks ran through your limbs. His tongue returned to playfully flicking your clit, making you flinch from the overstimulation. 

“How’d that feel sweetheart?” He hums, adjusting his position, bringing two fingers to his mouth and began to suck on them while waiting for your answer..

“I….” You couldn’t think. 

“Yeah that’s what I thought.” He chuckles as he pops his fingers out. He brings them to your pulsing hole, soaked with your arousal and his spit, gently teasing it. “You looked real pretty cumming like that. Lets do it again yeah?” 

He sunk one finger in slowly and you gasped at the feeling. His hands were already big, that one finger making you feel full already. Slowly he began to pump it in out and of you. He pressed his thumb to your clit, rubbing teasing circles into it and smirked at your face. 

“Barely got started and you’re already fucked out.” He hums. 

“No…” You let out a small whimpered and shook your head. “I don’t want to stop-”

He pressed soothing kisses to your inner thigh. “Who says anything about stopping sweetheart?” He coos. Slowly, he adds another figure. Your breath hitches at the feeling of his fingers stretching you open. “You okay?” He asks as he stroked his fingers in and out of you slowly, curling them to press into the perfect spot inside you- like he knew exactly where to touch. 

You took a shaky breath and nodded.

“That’s my girl.” He grinned, moving to press kisses along your pelvis. His words sent shivers down your spine. 

He continued gliding his fingers in and out of you, stretching you open. Pulling out, he stuck them into his mouth, sucking them clean with a deep moan. “Can’t get enough of you…” 

He leaned down to latch on your clit again, returning his fingers inside you and continuing to curl them, pressing into the same spot that was making you see stars. Small satisfied grunts escaped him as he swallowed down your essence. 

You managed to prop yourself on your elbows, tipping your head back,a grin grew across your face. Your second orgasm was fast approaching. Logan wasn’t slowing down, seemingly picking up on your cues. 

You heard a snapping noise, and look down at him. He snapped his fingers from his free hand to get your attention, his eyes open while half his face was buried in your cunt. He made a motion with his freehand, telling you to keep watching. 

You nodded, your hands clenching the sheets. Your second wave of pleasure finally came, taking ahold of you but just as Logan ordered- You didn’t look away, didn’t shut your eyes. He wanted to watch you come undone on his mouth and fingers. He wanted you to see him.

Your body shook with each pulse that Logan dragged out with his fingers and tongue. You could barely register the drunk look on his face as he swallowed you, unable to get enough. 

You finished, muscles relaxing and collapsed back on the bed. 

Holy shit.

He sat up, an arm going around your waist and pushing you further up on the bed as he settled between your thighs. 

“Looked real pretty that second time princess.” He coos, nearly breathless and face flushed. He gave you a quick peck. You could taste yourself on him, his face drenched with your juices. He licked his lips. “Ready for the main course?” 

Without waiting for your answer he sat back on his knees, hands going under your thighs to spread them open further. His cock resting over your pussy. With a small thrust, he pushed through between your folds. A loud wet noise filled the room. You squeaked in embarrassment, your hands rushing to cover your face. 

You didn’t know why that made you so embarrassed. It was lewd, uncomfortable sounding, yet Logan didn’t pull away. You could feel him resting on you. Hot and heavy, an occasional twitch before he slides through your folds again in a swift motion. You pressed your lips together- unable to look at him or anything.

“Why don’t ya take a peek, darling? Don’t be scared.” He cooed. His hands came to your wrists, gently pulling your hands away from your face and pining them to the mattress, revealing a flustered expression and pouty lips. He smirked. 

Your eyes finally glanced down to where his cock was resting between your folds. He begin with long, drawn out thrusts, his tip bumping into your clit- sending shivers into your thighs as you gasp from the dirty sight. 

“See? Don’t you like how that feels baby?” 

You nodded, pressing your lips together as you watched him push his cock through your folds. More pre-cum beaded at his tip, leaking onto your clit. 

He didn't seem to pay mind to the wet noises your bodies were making together. He kept moving, gathering all your wetness over his cock. He was watching it- admiring it like it was art. 

“Look at this baby-” He murmurs, “Gorgeous sight ain’t it?”

God he’s such a pervert.

He’s right though.

He told you he was going to do things, just the way you like them. Yet you didn’t even know what you liked yet. You just knew that you did like everything he’s done tonight, how could you not? 

“Logan…” You were breathless. The butterflies raged inside you as you considered your next word. “Inside?”

The grin he gave you was devilish. “Whatever you want.” He leans down to give you a soft kiss, one arm going around your hip to lift you up more comfortably. He gathered a bunch of spit on his hand, using his free hand to lube his cock and aimed his tip to your hole. Leaning forward to hold you in a kiss, he pushed inside. 

“Oh-” You gasped, the sting of the intrusion was already too much as you felt yourself being stretched open. You grabbed onto his arms in response to the sting, tempted to tell him to stop, but you didn’t want him to stop either.

“S’alright, deep breaths.” He pressed his forehead against yours. “You can take it baby. I know you can.” 

Your nails dug into his skin while he gave you a moment to adjust. Then he pushed deeper inside.

“Logan-” You whined. A part of you wanted to do good for him- to take all he had to give. He just has a lot to give.

“Oh I know darling.” He coos softly. “It’s a lot ain’t it? But you’re being a such a good girl. You feel so good, just give it a minute, just relax.”

He leaned down to press his nose against your cheek, continuing to praise you as he went deeper. You took deep breaths, spreading your legs wider to accommodate his size as tears began to spring in your eyes. His fingers didn’t compare to the size of his cock, but you couldn’t complain. The longer it went on, the more the ache went away and you find yourself melting into the mattress feeling the warmth he filled you with. 

“There we go… Feels good now, doesn’t it?”

“Mhm.” You barely nodded, shutting your eyes, and tipping your head to the side. You took deep breaths, still growing used to the feeling of being so full. He cradled your head with his arm, while keeping his other arm wrapped around your hips and slowly pulled out, before thrusting back in, equally as slow. “It’s a lot” You breathed, your arms wrapped around his neck. 

“Just keep breathing baby-” He coos, “I got you.” 

You nodded, eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of him inside you. He buried his face into your neck, pressing soft kisses and murmuring sweet things into your ear, as he slowly thrusted in and out of you. 

He lifted his head up, hand coming up grip your face and make you look at him. “This is how a mans supposed to treat you darling. Supposed to gentle, make sure you’re happy.… Got it?”

“Mhm.” Your lips puckered as he squeezed the plush of your cheeks together. He smirked.

“Course, with me, you don’t need to worry about that.” He rests his forehead against yours, a breathless sigh escaping him. “You ready for more princess?”

“Yeah…” You nodded. Your brain was static- the feeling of him inside made you dumb, never felt this way before. 

You and your friends have gossiped about sex before. Most of your friends who have lost their virginity complained about it being boring- the guys they were with not knowing what they were doing. Other friends described it as the most magical thing of their lives- and you’re pretty sure they were lying. 

You didn’t know how your first time would go- you expected, or at least hoped it would be with someone you cared about- who cared about you. That it wouldn’t be painful- or a snooze fest. 

He braced a hand beside your head, his arm still cradling your waist as he began thrusting faster. A new shock of pleasure ran through you as his cock glide against your walls. Your mouth falling open and your eyes growing heavy. 

His moans graced your ears, as he kept a steady pace thrusting into you. Your body melded into his, as your head rolled back and forth- the new pleasure that Logan was giving you was so much. Your nails dug into his back, and you hooked your ankles around his hips- wanting him to be as close as possible.

Definitely not a snooze fest.

“Taking my cock so good sweetheart-” You heard him, “Like you’re fucking made for me.” 

A whine escaped you as he began thrusting faster, one hand coming up to cradle you face. 

“What’s that sweetheart?” His thumb brushing over your lips. “Feeling good aren’t ya? Doing okay?”

You nodded, shutting your eyes. You felt his lips on yours, giving you a messy kiss as he continued to fuck your brains out- You were in another world, mind lost in a swirl of new pleasures and unable to return his kiss. 

“C’mon-” His hand gripped you face again, making you open your eyes. “Kiss me properly darling.” 

You pouted, only making him more arrogant. 

“I know my cock feels so good doesn’t it?” He cooes, almost taunting. “but if you don’t want me to stop you better give me a real kiss.” He began to slow down his thrusts. The heavy swirl deep in your belly began to fade and you cried out.

“No, no! Don’t stop!” Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down as you kissed him desperately. Hands climbing into his hair and tugging as he returned to his pace, his body pressed yours into the mattress. Your thighs tightened around his hips, refusing to let him go. 

You moaned into his mouth, and he swallowed each one with a moan, licking into your mouth, as spit was shared and left your head spinning. You couldn’t focus- his cock pounding into you, while his lips distracted you, and his body weight kept you trapped underneath him. 

The feeling returned, your felt your legs shake, in the back of your mind, you registering how hard the bedframe was slamming into the wall. Hopefully you don’t have neighbors.

“Logan-” You whimpered,

“Huh? Getting close baby?” 

You nodded, mouth falling open as you tipped your head back, you felt Logans hand press over your clit, circling over it with two fingers- sending a new wave of pleasure through you.

“Cum for me sweetheart, don’t be shy.” 

“Oh- Logan…” Your body tensed up, your core felt like fire as he fucked you through your third orgasm of the night. This one more intense- seeing stars in your eyes. You squeezed his cock so hard he could barely pull out. Pleasure wracked your body, tensing your muscles as you silently screamed Logans name- voice becoming hoarse from your moans. 

Logan didn’t stop, continuing to thrust as he pants and grunts in your ear. He watched you come undone on his cock, feeling your cream soaking both him and sheets. You felt him rut into you hard, before quickly pulling out. A low moan- nearly a growl graced your ears and you opened your eyes to watch as he jerked his cock to completion- warm cum painting your belly. His mouth was open, brows creased angrily, sweat beading his forehead and muscles. 

“Fuck-” He moaned, the last spurts of him leaking out as he slowed his rhythm over himself. 

He chuckles breathlessly, sweat beading his brow as he looks down at your fucked-out form, spread open, sweat and shivers running over your body. He noticed you staring at the mess he’s made on your belly. 

“Want a taste?” He asks with an arrogant grin, his voice still on edge from his coitus.

A swiped two fingers over your belly, collecting a generous amount of his cum onto it, before bringing it to your lips. 

“Open up.” 

You listened, any common sense, intellect, pride, was gone the moment Logan pushed his cock into you. You acted on baser instinct- and that was to let him do whatever the hell he wanted as long as he didn’t stop. 

He pushed his fingers between your lips as you parted them, swiping them over your tongue. You naturally closed your lips around his fingers, and a shaky breath escaped him. 

The taste was different- not what you expected, but not entirely unwelcome either. You shut your eyes, sucking his fingers clean, teeth grazing over the skin of his fingers, your tongue flat against them, ensuring every bit had been licked clean.

“You’re a natural.” He grins. You opened your eyes, exhaustion plaguing you. Leaning down, he catches you in another deep, searing kiss. It shoots down your spine, and you find yourself wanting him again even as your legs tremble and your body wanted sleep. 

He must have read your mind, his hand swiping up your body. “Want more, yeah? Don’t blame ya.” He purrs, leaning forward to kiss you. 

You ignored the sarcastic remark. 

He sat up abruptly. “How about I show you a different position.” 

He picked you up, manhandling you with such ease and pushing you into a new position- on your hands and knees. His hand pushed your knees apart, while the other pressed into the arch of your back. 

“It’ll feel better like this babe.” He says, another hand going to your shoulder to lower your top half to the mattress. His hands moved again, grabbing your hips and pushing his cock through your folds again. 

He’s already hard again?

You admittedly didn’t know much about mens biology. You were led to believe it was one and done. Logan however seemed eager to go at it much longer. The exhaustion that was plaguing you faded, disappearing as you prepared yourself for another round. 

Your hands gripped the sheets as you felt him push inside once more. 

“Goddamn.” 

You glanced over your shoulder, watching him tip his head back with parted lips. A burst of pride went through you, over how good you were making him feel. 

Feeling confident, you arched your back more and began rocking your hips against him- unable to wait longer and wanting to show him that you aren’t some naive little virgin- even if that was exactly what you were. Your eyes rolled back at how good he felt, especially in this position. His hands tightened on your hips almost enough for his nails to break skin, as he tipped his head back forward. Watching with half-lidded eyes, he smirked. 

“Gonna take a ride, sweetheart?” He hums. He lets go of his hold on you, hands falling to his side. “Go on, show me what you got.” 

You continued rocking against him, going faster every time you felt confident you could maintain the rhythm. Logans moans spurred you on, you could feel his hips slowly start to move with each bounce on his cock. Unable to sit still for long, Logan began meeting you with his thrusts- sending a rush through your body.

Grabbing your waist and pushing it down on the mattress, he began thrusting into you- rolling his hips slowly and dramatically with each thrust, making sure you felt every inch of his cock in and out of you.

“That’s it beautiful- take it all.” He moans. He began thrusting faster. You squirmed, wanting to meet with each thrust but he had you pinned. He leaned over you, his chest pressing into your back, heavy breaths in your ear. “This pretty pussys all mine, got it?” He growled. You whined. “C’mon, I want to hear you say it.” 

“It’s yours-” You breathed out, eyes rolling back. 

“Not like that, tell me your pussys mine.” He demands, nipping at your ear. “You can do it baby, word for word.”

Despite the fact that you were currently being railed, embarrassment rose. You already were so vulnerable with him, and now he wants you to say those words?

They were filthy!

A twisting in your stomach as you urged yourself to just say it. His hand, braced on the mattress slithered up your body and over your throat. He didn’t squeeze, just tilted your head enough to make eye contact. 

“Say it.” He says firmly. His cock glides in and out of you with ease. Your mouth fell open, staring into his hazel eyes. The corner of his lip twitched upwards. 

“I-” You couldn’t take your eyes off him. “My…” Your lip quivered, humiliation pricking your senses. “My pussys yours…” 

An evil grin grew across his face. “Damn right it is.” His hand came up to squeeze your cheeks, forcing you to keep looking up at him as he pounded into your cunt. 

You felt another orgasm approaching. You fell apart completely in his arms again, a sob escaping you, your eyes squeezing shut as you are pushed into overstimulation and he still didn’t stop. 

“Logan-” You squirmed, your hand reaching around, digging into the skip of his hip. Your eyes opened and looked up at him again begging. A look came across his face, something thoughtful came across it. 

He leaned forward, catching you in another kiss. This one just as messy, but sweeter. Tears pricked your eyes from his cock pounding into your sensitive walls, your body was becoming numb. He dropped his hold on you, both hands falling to brace himself on either side of you. He began rutting into you, small grunts escaping him before he quickly pulled out with a shout of your name, spilling himself onto the mattress. You dropped your gaze to the mattress, just in time to see the claws slid out as he grunts. They prick the bed, his hands clenched in tight fists. They retracted, leaving behind only the holes in the sheets.

Logans heavy pants filled the room, as he continued to lay over you, before pressing a few gentle kisses to your shoulder. 

“Stay right here sweetheart.” He says in a softer voice. You barely nodded, not that you could move anyway. 

He climbed off you, the mattress groaning from his disappearing weight. You heard footsteps, and the flick of a light switch. The sound of a sink running before he came back and gently rolled you onto your back. 

He gently cleaned you with a warm wet rag, careful not to be too rough. Your body shook while you were afloat in your after-sex dream world, barely able to register a thing around you. You could feel Logan's tende care though.

“Need some water?” He asks, brushing your hair back gently. You cleared your throat, shaking your head. 

He tossed the rag to the side after cleaning himself off, climbing back onto the mattress and pulling you into his side, tugging the sheets over the both of you. Your shaking slowly turned into small shivers, as Logan softly rubbed your back.

“You okay?” He asks. You nodded against his chest - noting how much you liked being close to someone- especially him. 

He was warm and flush still from your proclivities. Your arm wrapped instinctively around his waist. Sleep calling your name. His hand climbed into your hair, softly running his fingers through it. 

“You did good sweetheart.” He turns his head to kiss the top of your forehead. “Amazing even.”

“That was my first time.” You mumbled quietly, opening your eyes again to stare at the wall.

“Yeah, what do you think?”

“It was nice.”

A warm chuckle escaped him. “Yeah, it was. Get some sweet baby.” He turned to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be here.”

When you woke up, it was when you felt Logan stirring. Drool was stuck to the corner of your mouth, dried onto his chest, but you could barely register anything before he spoke up. 

“Shit…” You heard him mutter. “Sweetheart, you up?” 

“Mm?” You grumbled, pulling yourself closer to him- Not ready to get up and leave the comfort of him. 

“I got to go.” 

Your eyes snap open. He gently removed your arm as he climbed out of bed. You watched with fluster and desire as he crossed the room ass naked, gathering your clothes first and setting them on the bed- and then grabbing his. 

You frowned sitting up, using the sheet to cover yourself. “Go?”

“Yeah, I got some stuff I need to do.” He says, stepping into his jeans. You watched with disappointment as his lower half disappeared, before shaking your head and snapping out of your lustful gaze. 

“C’mon, I’ll take you home.” He looks at you, before tossing some of your clothes your way.

You looked at him, a tad disappointed. On one hand- you knew that he wasn’t going to stay, another man just looking to get his and leave. You didn’t regret the night, knowing it was an experience you’ll remember forever. On the other, you were attached already- he just fascinated you. With his claws and his magic healing, the way he talks and looks at you- like you’re his world.

No one’s ever treated you the way he does.

A bit of stubbornness ran through you as you sat in place. Logan turned to look at you as he pulled his undershirt on.

“Well?” 

He waited for you to say something, but you didn’t. A small laugh escapes him as he walks back over to you. “Should’ve known you’d be too stubborn to leave. Never been one to miss out on a good thing, are you?”

You blinked in confusion at him. 

“Listen baby, I have to go.” He says in a soft voice, hand coming to tip your chin up at him. “ I got something important- really important to take care of. You- You got your life to live.” 

Your nostrils flared in frustration at his words and his smile grew. 

“Am I going to see you again?” You ask in a small voice. You wanted to come off more angry than that, but you came out more disappointed than you wished to seem.

“Yeah you will.” He says softly, his thumb brushed over your bottom lip. “It’s gonna be awhile though. A long time. You’re going to go through some serious stuff. You’ll get through it though.” He smirked, eyes glancing at your lips before meeting your gaze again. “And when we see each other again I might not going to remember this-”

You open your mouth but he holds his finger up. “There’s a good reason why- So just trust me, alright?” 

“Why can’t you tell me?” You asked. 

“It’s a long story sweetheart. I promise you though…You’ll come back home to me.” He leans in, kissing you gently. 

You melted into that kiss. The back of your head told you this was utterly ridiculous, that he was feeding you a bunch of bullshit excuses. 

Yet, another part of you can’t help but believe him. He parted. 

“We good?” He asks. 

“I guess.” You say, letting a small bit of attitude out. You had to resign yourself to accepting it anyway. He chuckles, seemingly unphased as he snatches your shirt and teasingly tosses it to your hands. You looked down at your shirt. “You ruined my bra.” You look back up at him. 

He just winks, standing back up to grab his other shirt, pulling it up and beginning to button it up while you got dressed.

Your body was limp, tired, and when you stood to pull your panties and pants on you fell back onto the mattress- unused to the shaky feeling in your legs. Logan looked over, let out a small sigh. 

He walked over to you, crouching down. “You okay? Not hurting too much are you?” His large hands rested on your thighs, gently massaging them- and you found yourself wishing he would finger you again. 

“I’m fine.” You say, a tinge of attitude in your voice, looking away as you smoothed out your pants from wrinkles. Logan smirked. 

“After the way you screamed my name last night? I know you are.” 

You gasped, shooting him a glare and he laughed, standing back up and quickly pressing a kiss to your forehead. You pulled on your pants with a grumble and stood up, only to be greeted with a smack to your ass. 

“No more attitude.” He says firmly, like he was lecturing you. 

“You’re not the boss of me.” You muttered quietly as you quickly slipped on your shoes. You really hated how much you liked that though. You followed him to the car where he once again opened the door for you.

The drive back was a bit awkward. While you claimed to understand Logan, you couldn’t help but feel used. No matter how many times you told yourself that you knew that he was just wanting some fun. 

“You got class today?” He breaks the silence.

“Um, no. Tomorrow.” You say. “I got this paper I’ve been slacking on. Probably won’t get a good grade. Going to have to work on it all day today.” 

“You’ll be fine.” He says. “Hey what’s the date again?”

You glanced at him, “It’s Thursday…the….18th.” You wracked your head. “Why?” 

A solemn expression on his face. “Uh…Nothing. Just…Be careful going to class tomorrow, alright?” 

“Okay.” You say softly just by the look on his face. You decided not to inquire more. He’ll just deflect anyway. 

When he pulled onto your street- there was a sinking feeling in your stomach. Your mother.

Fuck!

You’re surprised there weren’t cops covering the street by now, that your face isn’t plastered on every milk carton and telephone pool in the town. She’s going to be pissed.

You glanced at Logan, eyes trailing over his figure, down to his hands. Your mind fell to the soreness of your legs and core from last night.

Fuck it. Worth it.

When he pulled over in front of the house, you stared at it, unmoving. 

“Hey.” His voice drew you out of your thoughts. You looked at him. A sweet smile on his face, “You’ll be alright sweetheart. Don’t worry, we’ll be together again one day. Alright?” 

You nodded. He hopped out of the car, walking around to open your door. You stepped out, looking at the ground, before glancing up at your house again.

Your mother stood on the porch with her arms crossed. You merely glared at her back, before turning back to Logan, who only looked satisfied. His eyes met yours, and he reached for your hand, to kiss the back of it. 

You weren’t satisfied with that. 

Just as he leaned back, you stepped forward to kiss him. Grabbing his collar, standing on your tip toes and pulled him down to you. His hands rested on your hips and he kissed you back despite the growing smirk on his face.

You parted. “I’m going to totally kick your ass if you’re lying to me.” You mumbled quietly. 

“Wouldn’t expect anything less.” He hummed, brushing some hair behind your ear. You let him go and turned around, walking up the sidewalk to your porch until you reached it, your mother looking down at you.

“I hope he was worth it.” She says simply. 

You bit your lip, glancing back at him. He was still standing by the car and watching. “Yeah momma, he was. He’s a magic man.” 

[ye4gerism]

Family Vacation W/ Jotaro

☣︎ - in which you want you, jotaro, and baby jolyne take your first trip as a family. jotaro’s a little hesitant to take jolyne anywhere as she’s so little but a little bit of reflection changes his mind.

content tags headcanons, post part 3 but WAAAY before part 4, domestic life, black reader friendly

author’s note i’ve been doing a jjba rewatch and just finished the stardust crusaders arc and i miss writing for jojo. also, i’ve been getting a lot of attention on my very few jotaro hcs, so it must be a sign to come back.

When you proposed the idea of taking your nine-month-old daughter to Disneyworld, Jotaro started to question whether you had truly lost your damn mind.

⠀ ★ “She’s a baby. What is she going to do at Disneyworld?” he asks when you bring it up. “Well…she could meet her favorite characters, ride a few light rides…we could even ask your grandpa and mom to come and make it a whole thing.” You know he wants to say some snarky bs from the unconvinced look in his eyes but instead he sighs. “I’ll think about it.”

At first, he was going to tell you no; a trip to Disneyworld from Miami would take about three and a half hours by car. Now, don’t get him wrong, he loved his baby but a three-hour car trip with little Jolyne sounded like a punishment. And you wanted to bring Joseph and his mom? Forget it.

But he didn’t forget it - he thought back to his first trip: it was his first trip to America after his fifty-day journey to Egypt. He missed a little bit of school and had to get a few grades up while managing his grief and the questions he still had about…everything. He was turning eighteen within the next month, and although he defeated his family’s greatest enemy, he wasn’t so sure about what to expect next.

His grandfather had gotten word of his state and planned a short vacation to Disneyworld. It didn’t make anything in Egypt go away but it further strengthened his relationship with Joseph. It later became one of the places he took you for a date when you met during your first year of undergrad. He reasoned with your want - it’d be the perfect place to take Jolyne.

Jotaro doesn’t ever actually tell you that he’s agreed to take you and Jolyne on this trip. It was a trip to CVS that made you realize this was actually happening.

⠀ ★ “So…I’m not understanding why Jolyne needs a passport,” you say, “I thought she wasn’t doing any traveling.” You’re both looking at the photos your baby took. It was a lot of effort but you managed to get some good ones. “Well, I figured if Jolyne does a good job at Disneyworld, we could take her to Japan next. You know, so she can see how I grew up and learn a little bit about her roots,” Jotaro says casually. You don’t say anything, confused by everything he just said. “If she does a good job at Disneyworld…?” And then it hits you, “Jojo, are we going to Disneyworld?!”

He makes it a whole thing by not only getting you passes to the park but he also paid for you to stay at the Contemporary Resort during your trip.

Although you didn’t do many thrill rides, he enjoys watching Jolyne’s excitement on the Kilimanjaro Safaris, her joy when she met Cinderella, and how her eyes light up at the SpectroMagic show at Magic Kingdom.

⠀ ★ The morning after your last day, you start your journey back to Miami. “It was a great trip right?” you try to egg him on, “You know you love that place.” He chuckles. “It gets a little pricey but…watching Jolyne…price doesn’t matter that much.”

[conelluwrites]

Rotted Out With Flies

Soldier 005 x F!Reader x Soldier 007

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: Reader is a soldier not a player (the world isn't ready for a fic like that /j), spitroasting, creampie, forced swallowing, one instance of degradation (slut, whore), reader is number 009, reader doesn't finish lol

Other: I love these freaks I fear... I gave them names (Lee Jong-il for 005 and Park Chi-won for 007) and some standard personalities. Because this is my first time writing for what are basically OCs at this point, their personalities may change if I write for them again. Not posted on Ao3 cause I couldnt find a good relationship tag for it ahah... Back to requests <3!!

Keep to herself, don’t even glance at anyone else, do her job and do it well, and go home afterwards.  That’s what she did, every day in her damn jumpsuit felt like a year- but who is she to complain?  She was offered the job, she took it, end of story.  So what the fuck did she do to draw in their attention?  She can feel the stares of numbers 005 and 007 on her, can feel their hands ‘accidentally’ brushing by her hips and waist, can practically feel their breath when they lean in to whisper disgusting, vile things to her.  And the worst part is that she doesn’t quite hate the attention.  Sure when it started it made her recoil, but now it gives her something to look forward to in the lull between games.  And don’t get her wrong, she still doesn’t do anything to draw in their attention, but she’s began to touch them back, to whisper back, to- to- to

“Hey.”  She jumps slightly when she hears the voice of 007 behind her, his hand rubbing the small of her back.  She doesn't give an immediate response, instead she continues walking.  “Don’t be so cold.”

“She’s just playin’ hard to get.”  The voice of 005 enters her other ear, she can hear the smirk as he talks and enters her personal space so that she’s more or less forced on the path they choose for her.  “Ain’t you, such a cute lil thing…”

She doesn’t put up any hint of resistance as they lead her away, but she stays quiet.

Thye lead her through the hallways, up and down stairs, and then finally they reach a small room.  It reeks of putrid, rancid blood.

“Such a good thing, comin’ here without even fighting.” 007 praises, moving to stand in front of her.  He lets out an audible breath, clearly excited at the chance to be alone- er… mostly alone with 009.  He slips her hood off, tsking when she grips his wrist.  “Don’t try to fight back now, not when we’re so close to the prize.”  They stare at each other before her hand loosens and falls back to her side as 005 rubs soothing circles on her back.  He tugs her mask off, then tugs at the balaclava until he exposes her hair and face.

A whistle leaves both of the soldiers, a low laugh escaping 005 as she leans in to rest his chin on her shoulder.  “Pretty thing, all ours.”

“Names.  I need them.”  She says, trying to sound more in control than she actually is.  Her voice wavers only slightly.  “I’m not going further without them.”

Her voice makes them both laugh, slightly distorted by the masks they’re forced to wear.  She’s just such a sweet thing.  For a moment they just stare at her before looking at each other and shrugging.  They shouldn’t give out their names, but they also shouldn’t have her down here and definitely shouldn’t be thinking of wrecking her body.

“Lee Jong-il.” 005 says, nodding his head over to 007. “Tell her your name, man, it’ll make things easier for us all.”

“I’m Park Chi-won.” 007 responds before patting her face condescendingly.  He leans down until she has no choice but to focus her eyes on his through his mask.  “And yours?  C’mon now, don’t leave us hanging, number 009.”

She shares her name, shrinking away only slightly from Chi-won’s overwhelming presence.  Her attempts amuse him greatly, keeping his hand on her face.  The latex of his gloved thumb rubs against her cheek in a way that’s not entirely unpleasant.  “Masks off.  You see me, it’s only fair if I see you.”

They both pause their gentle motions, the air thickening with tension before Chi-won sighs heavily and pulls his hand away.  He hesitates before pulling his hood down, removing his mask, and tugging his balaclava down.  Jong-il follows afterwards, tossing his mask aside and then immediately nuzzling his nose right below her ear.  He slides the hand from her back to her abdomen, pulling her close to his chest. He’s more than content in the moment until Chi-won speaks up, rolling his eyes at the display, “No time for that, we gotta work fast.  Maybe the girl will let us take her out after the games.”

“‘The girl’.” She scoffs.  But she goes ignored as Jong-il reluctantly pulls away from her.

“Number 007- Chi-won- is right, we got things we need to get done here.  See, you’ve let us touch up on you, let us whisper those filthy, rotten things to you, and you’ve never done shit to stop us.  You want this, don’t you?”

“Of course she does, dude.  She’s probably a loose slut out there.”

Jong-il snaps his gaze to Chi-won giving him a quiet warning.  As much as he wants to degrade the woman, he knows he can’t immediately go around calling her a whore. “As I was saying…  We brought you down here for some fun, baby girl.  You’ll get something out of it too, we aren’t that selfish.”

She rolls her eyes.  Of fucking course.  She wasn’t stupid, far from it, so she saw this coming from a mile away especially when their whispered filth got more pointed and explicit.  “Yeah, whatever.  Let’s just be quick.”

Both the soldiers enjoy her response, caging her in as they touch, grope, and rub her sides before one of them unzips her jumpsuit to touch her more directly.  The latex of their gloves skips around her skin as they both rub her nipples until they harden into sensitive peaks.  Jong-il buries his face in her neck, biting at the tugged down balaclava while Chi-won keeps his gaze on her face.  One of Chi-won’s hands slides over the expanse of her stomach and down to her panties.  He can feel the heat of her cunt even through his glove.  It’s the sign he was looking for.

“Hands and knees, now.”  Chi-won says sharply, stepping away and tapping on Jong-il’s arm to get his attention.  “It won’t be comfortable but, eh, who gives a fuck.   Doubt either of us will last long.”

She whines at the loss of contact, barely registering the fact that the two soldiers are unzipping and freeing their cocks.  She strips her own pink jumpsuit off and allows it to crumble on the floor.  She’s immediately cold, but she can/t bring herself to care too much as her knees make contact with the hard, uncomfortable ground.  She looks up at the pair, pulling back slightly as they both stroke themselves to her sweet body and exposing position.  Jong-il nods to Chi-won and gets behind the woman, groaning softly as he spreads her to see her glistening folds.  She’s so wet just from a few touches.

“She good, man?” Chi-won asks, grunting as he stares down at her cute face.

“More than good.”

“Let’s get started then.”

Jong-il grunts as he notches his cock at her entrance, his hips itching to snap forward to bury his cock in her tight heat.  Chi-won, on the other hand, just tilts her chin up and turns her head from side to side while stroking himself.  He could cum just from the way she lolls her tongue out while Jong-il does shallow thrusts- just enough to push his sensitive head into her sweet cunt.

“Want my cock, huh?  You want to suck me off?”  Chi-won asks, smirking when she nods and looks up at him with those damn pretty eyes.  He taps her chin and laughs when she opens her mouth.  He doesn’t waste time, holding onto his cock until his head rests on her tongue and then he curls his fingers up into her hair.  His eyes roll back as he shallowly thrusts his hips, fucking her face in small strokes.  He looks at Jong-il and nods, giving him the go ahead to fuck her cunt.

He lets out a low groan when he bottoms out.  He holds himself there, his cock pulsing inside her gummy walls.  She makes a soft noise around Chi-won’s cock, vibrating his sensitive flesh.  It makes his hips stutter before he starts to fuck her face with deeper thrusts, ignoring the way she recoils from the intrusion before she relaxes once more.  Jong-il starts to move, barely pulling away from her heat before burying himself to the hilt again and again.

The room becomes a mess of noises- squelches, gorans, grunts, and moans fill the empty, dead space.  They get more and more desperate, louder and louder until it’s almost deafening as the trio loses themselves.

“Fuck, dude, I’m about to cum this pussy full.” Jong-il strains out, his cock eagerly throbbing deep within her.

“I’m about to fill her throat up.” Chi-won says, warning the woman between them.

She doesn’t have time to push Chi-won away or attempt to move away from Jong-il as she feels a familiar warmth flood her cunt.  The groan from Jong-il makes her tremble, she’s so close that it’s annoying but she doesn’t trust herself to not lose balance to rub her clit.  She whimpers around Chi-won’s dick as Jong-il keeps pumping his hips until he’s spent.  He pulls out, his gloved hand spreading her folds to watch his seed leak from her used pussy.

It doesn’t take long for Chi-won to follow, grunting and holding her head still as he fucks her face shallowly until she feels his bitter, salty cum pulse into her mouth.  She whines around him, earning her a grin as he looks down at her.  His lips are slightly parted as he breathes out, trying to stay quiet for the first time during the entire ordeal.  When he pulls out, he immediately covers her mouth and holds her nose closed.  “Swallow.”  He demands simply, nodding as he watches her throat move to swallow down his cum.

Jong-il is already redressed fully, his mask in place as he taps his foot impatiently.  Chi-won joins his side when he trusts himself to move away fully from the girl who’s coughing and sputtering.  “We gotta get going, man.  Hurry up.”

The woman hastily tugs on her jumpsuit, trying to ignore the way her pussy leaks seed into her panties as she stands on shaky legs.  She has to hold onto the pair of soldiers or she fears she’ll fall.  She walks between Jong-il and Chi-won.  “Maybe next time we can take you in a hotel room rather than this dingy shit, eh?” Chi-won offers, “know you didn’t come, baby girl.  We’ll make up for it later.”