#and just continuing to yap and walk

[wakingupthetrees]

do you think that once the hobbits got back to the shire they realised they needed to slow their walking speed because they'd gotten used to walking a lot quicker around the tall folks for the months of the quest

[spacedlexi]

i thought we were gonna kiss up here are you still not over your dead girlfriend

[gifti3]

the goverment is definitely figuring out this alien situation asap right?? cause whats happening currently is not feasible in the long run is it not??

im sure they are trying to maybe figure it out...probably, but part of me feels like it is not being treated with the seriousness it should be by them, which ig is in character LOL

pretty much relying on one guy (who doesnt even wanna be doing this) is actually scary

and the mc still has to like 'encourage' him to do it, tho its much easier in the 'ray ending' for sure. that man just wants to live a regular life with mc (unfortunately for him that means continuing to be binary star and dealing with aliens)

and if i was a citizen and knew this id be panicking

like yea u have these other heroes helping and stuff which im sure looks comforting from an outside point of view! but like the actuality is that its ray keeping things afloat

AND ON THE TOPIC OF THE MC, i was definitely in my head like....wouldnt rays superiors (managers??) get like curious about them? like no way theyre not being nosy about it after a certain amount of time passes. it really feels like something that could be leveraged against him,,, (if there is fic about this pls send it to me lol)

honestly i feel like mc and rays relationship would have moments of high stress. like there will be good times but also the bad times will also be there and its sometimes gonna be because of outside factors they cant control

[dykedvonte]

If Ulysses has a million haters, then I'm one of them. If Ulysses has one hater, then I'm THAT ONE. If Ulysses has no haters, that means I'm dead. If the world is with Ulysses than I’m against the world.

[soaringsummerbird]

I love this banter so much

H: "Pls stop being a sentient problem for 5 fucking seconds"

R: (poking his face w/ shit eating grin — very much failing to comply with that request) "Hehe grumpy grumpy~ mind ur manners Mr perfect idol~"

[perilegs]

i am my father's son (enjoyer of irl sidequests)

[fruitsbmossy]

As a writer, do i feel bad for making my ocs have an extremely strained sibling relationship? No. As a big brother? VERY MUCH SO

[punk-o-ween]

gonna try and watch atleast the first 5 episodes of criminal minds today as i draw spencer to experiment w my art style👅 if it looks decent ill post it

[hearts4hughes]

RAFECHELLA | RAFE X FEM!READER

note: i’m super jealous of anyone who got to go to coachella. my outfits would go so hard 😓

more like this…

rafe hated coachella. he hated the music festivals, the skimpy outfits, the pure spectacle of a clear money grab.

but you? oh, you loved it.

you asked him if he wanted to go with you. it’d be two weeks in palm desert, spending time together, and partying on the weekends. of course, he politely declined, pressing a button on his phone and wiring you all the money you could need.

but now he knew he fucked up.

he clenched his phone so tightly that it creaked in his hand. the screen illuminated your instagram post: a photo of you wearing next to nothing with some douchebag male influencer next to you. his hand grazed the bare skin of your hip, not obnoxiously, but enough to have rafe dialing your number within two seconds.

it rang two times too many before you answered.

“hi, baby! i miss you so much!” you squealed, barely taking a breath before rambling on. “oh my gosh, it’s so hot out here. i mean i was in a bikini and i was practically having a heat stroke.”

“baby-”

“wait one sec, i have to tell you about charli xcx’s set,” you screeched into the phone. “it’s tonight and i’m praying that she brings out billie eilish or lorde-”

“that’s nice, hun, but-”

“and then julia forgot her shoes at her house and we had to go out and buy a new pair, and-”

“y/n.” rafe snapped, his voice stern and demanding. you stopped blabbering with a furrow of your brows. “who the fuck was next to you in your instagram photo?”

“that was just julia, sarah, and lexi… why?”

he scoffed, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. he was losing his patience. “i’m talking about that fucking douche-lookin’ male model that had his hands all over you.”

“oh, you mean mark? yeah, he’s super nice. he’s some influencer that is being sponsored to be here. i only posted the picture because i looked hot.” you said so casually that it made his jaw clench.

“why do you know his name? why does he know your name? why are you even speaking to men? scratch that, why are you even in a ten-yard vicinity as other men?” is what he wanted to say.

instead, he hummed. “yeah, mark, that’s who i meant.”

he thought of twenty ways he could kill mark—half painful, the other half excruciatingly painful.

you thought nothing of it though, continuing to yap about everything under the california sun. rafe sat on the other end of the phone, head in his hands, muscles taut. he crossed the room to his computer with a dangerous stride.

it looked like he was going to coachella after all.

~

the desert sun was merciless, but you barely noticed it. your body moved to the bass pounding through the speakers, hands in the air, hair a mess of waves and glitter, skin warm and glowing. you were in your own little world; sweaty, tipsy, high on adrenaline, and overpriced festival cocktails.

coachella was somehow even more unhinged than the day before. influencers everywhere. lights flashing. girls in metallic bikinis and guys in fishnets for no reason. and you? you were dancing in the middle of it, laughing with your friends, practically vibrating with the energy of it all.

and then it hit you.

that prickly feeling at the back of your neck.

like someone was watching you. no… staring.

you turned instinctively, and there he was.

rafe.

dressed in all black, looking like a threat, jaw flexing, sunglasses low on his nose. his eyes locked on yours like a heat-seeking missile. he didn’t move right away. just stood there, watching. as if he couldn’t believe his eyes; as if he wanted to scream.

you blinked and he started walking.

not fast but not slow, just determined. people moved out of his way like they could feel the tension rolling off him in waves.

and then he was in front of you. no words. no warning.

his hand slid around your waist, fingers splaying over the bare skin above your skirt. he pulled you back into his chest like it was nothing.

you gasped, breath catching. your head tilted back automatically, lips parting in surprise.

he leaned in close, mouth brushing your ear. his voice was low. dangerous. like a threat and a promise all wrapped into one.

“you’re lucky i like that little outfit,” he whispered, every word laced with heat. “but if another guy even thinks about touching you, i swear to god i’ll put him in the fucking hospital.”

your thighs clenched, your pulse spiked, and all you could do was smile.

[whore-of-hogwarts06]

AU where Dad James Potter has a crush on baker Regulus Black:

James and five-year-old Harry: *enter bakery*

James, to Harry: Go on, buddy, tell the nice baker what you want.

Harry: *shyly walks up to Regulus*

Regulus: What can I get you, cupcake?

Harry: *giggles* I’m not a cupcake!

Regulus, with a wide grin: Oh! I’m so sorry, you’re so sweet, I mistook you for one!

Harry, pointing to James: My dad thinks you’re sweet, too!

*James and Regulus freeze and just stare at each other*

Harry, continuing his yapping: He talks about you all the time. He thinks you’re really pretty and that you have a nice a-

James: *grabs a random cupcake and slaps a 50 on the table before grabbing Harry and fleeing the bakery*

[ryusjwks]

yapping abt nonmc

Non-MC reader fanfics are always written by authors who know exactly how to hurt a person. The pain is so intense and so well-crafted that, dear God, sometimes I find myself rereading the same paragraph over and over again. And after a while, I start to see myself as that woman—waiting to be loved but never receiving it in return.

Imagine loving someone. Looking at them with the most fragile, the most human part of your heart. When you hear their voice, everything inside you comes to a halt, and your entire existence shifts toward them. But they… they don’t even notice you. Or if they do, their recognition is not with the powerful grasp of love, but with the light touch of mere acknowledgment.

To you, they are a star, the very center of the universe. But to them, you are just another speck of light in the sky. If you were to disappear, they wouldn’t feel your absence. You turn back, realizing your hands are empty, crushed under the weight of your love. And they? They continue revolving around another world, another sun.

You are a meteor, trying to rise and shine, but unable to enter their orbit—shattered by the gravity of a planet that was never meant to hold you. You dissolve into dust, fading into silence. And they move on, as if nothing ever happened.

This plays out differently for each character, but the ending remains the same.

In Zayne’s case, you are either his fiancée or his wife. He is always cold and distant. His words are measured, his presence heavy yet quiet. Even if storms rage behind his eyes, his face remains unreadable. He has always been this way, and you have accepted it.

But then, he smiles—at her.

That smile is like spring breaking through the ice, subtle, warm, and gentle. As if, for just a moment, the layers of frost within him have melted. And in that moment, you realize he was never truly like this—not for everyone. He is not just a distant man; he is only distant toward you.

And that’s when it sinks in. A weight settles inside you, stealing your breath for just a second. Because you have seen it now—he can be affectionate, he can be warm, he can smile. But that smile was never meant for you.

You are likely Sylus’s assistant, though in rare cases, you might be his wife. Sylus has always been indifferent—to everyone. To you. You walked in his shadow on the battlefield, threw yourself in front of bullets for him, but to him, it was merely necessity. A duty. Your presence was nothing more than part of the mission. Until she came along.

With her arrival, Sylus changed. His face softened when he looked at her, the sharpness in his voice faded. He made sacrifices for her, and when he spoke to her, the rigidness in his posture eased. Sylus was no longer the man you knew. Everyone questioned if he was still the same person, but you already knew the truth.

He hadn’t changed. He had simply never been yours.

With Xavier and Rafael, the pattern is almost identical. You are nothing more than a companion who has traveled through centuries with them, defying time itself.

As time weaves its path, they always take the lead—making decisions, guiding, fighting. And you? You are merely a shadow beside them. A witness. While they sacrificed their homelands for love, you were the one who heard the cries of the people they left behind. On one side was their passionate devotion, and on the other, your quiet grief.

For them, time had stopped. But for you, the world kept turning, though it no longer resembled the place you once knew.

And then there’s Caleb.

Caleb was always by MC’s side. He was her protector, her shield, her most trusted person. And you were there too. You grew up in the same house, sat at the same dinner table, shared the same stories. But his eyes always sought only MC.

Through the years, you watched how he looked at her. How he stepped forward at the slightest sign of danger, how every word he spoke to her carried an unshakable certainty. You bore witness to his protection, his sacrifices, his unwavering love—but never once was any of it directed at you.

You were there too. You lived those same moments. But you were never the center of his world.

Some see her as a mistress, a backup, an extra wedged between the main character and the LI. As if she were a mere footnote in someone else’s story, placed there by mistake. But she’s not.

She is not just someone trying to insert herself where she doesn’t belong. She was there from the very beginning. She walked the same path, fought the same battles, gazed at the same sky. She was never a stranger lingering on the edges of the story—she was a part of it.

The difference is that her name was never written into the main plot. Her words never echoed, her presence was never at the center. And yet, she was never just a replacement. Because love isn’t a competition, it isn’t a role to be filled, it isn’t about winners and losers.

She simply loved. With everything she had, without expecting anything in return. Her eyes were always on him, but his eyes were never on her.

[caotictimmy]

🍏- ANON? MAYBE??? it's so late for me but reading your nsfw on Daisuke...UAAAGHHH SAAGHHH 🗣️ he's such a vocal man and the whole morning sex thing where he can't get into you quick enough .helpop helppp meeeee helpppp

(maybe this is a request? Maybe I'm just yapping lowkey??? But if you want to write on this, by all means go for it LMAO)

Giggling over Swansea being mortified while walking in on reader x daisuke getting it on, I imagine they don't notice him and Daisuke is getting all needy trying to keep his pace 🤞 That boy has never felt the touch of person romantically so I could onllllyyyy assume that he'd been sensitive his first time. Or like. Every time with reader- especially if they're still on the ship. He's trying to not make too much noise as everyone is asleep ☹️ his whiney ass is NOT making it through that night. Bonus if reader is nonchalant about it the next day at lunch. They're talking with someone about their poor love lives (finding people to stay with how long their jobs shipments are)- reader dropping shit like 'aw man yeah. if only there was someone to really understand me, y'know?'. As if Daisuke wasn't memorizing their insides and how they physically react to him with his body just last night 😭

HELP 🍏 ANON THIS MADE ME LAUGH SO HARD I ALMOST FELL OFF MY BED. But this is Acually so smart. I always believe Daisuke gets lost in the sauce when you guys have sex. For the headcanon I was thinking they were known dating. But for this let’s pretend the crew doesn’t know Daisuke and reader are dating. The first kind middle part will be NSFW. But the rest should be NSFW. This will be done as a one shot. (I’ll also include your little bonus! Plus a little more:3)

What was that god damn noise..? Swansea thought. Irradiated as he heard a squeaking sound, an indescribable muffled sound coming along with it. For fucks sake he just wanted to get some rest! But those loud noises would not let the poor man drift to sleep. He was gonna put a stop to that noise. Once and for all.

Swansea swings his legs over the side of his bed, sitting up. Stretching his arms as he gets ready to investigate what the noise is, and where it’s coming from. He stands up, his back making a loud crack.( I love old man Swansea). He slips his slippers on. Grabbing and putting on his robe by the door. Slowly pushing the door open. Before silently shutting the door. The noise got louder. Even though the walls were paper thin. It still muffled some of the noise.

He tread carefully through the halls. Getting closer to the noise. Swansea could hear talking maybe? The squeaking of something getting louder the more he approaches. Wait. He’s getting closer to Daisuke’s room..? What the hell was that kid doing. He could hear a faint panting? He started walking a bit faster.

Daisuke’s door was cracked open. God was the kid hurt-. Oh… Oh dear god.. For the love of pony express why did he have to be the one to catch this scene. He could now clearly see what was happening now. God why him..? (Warning for what’s ahead will be NSFW)

“Nyyhhh… F-fuck you feel so good. G-god so good. Am I doing good? Mhm!.. a-am I doing good for you. Wanna make sure your feeling as ..ahh ~… as good as I am.” Daisuke whimpered out. His arms wrapped around your waist as he continues going his rough pace.

“Yes! O-oh fuck hah… doing so good for me!”, Your voice muffled as you were face first in your pillow. Daisuke’s body pressing against your back. Like he was trying to mold his body with you. A loud ‘plap’ sound being able to be heard.

Swansea felt his face contort in horror. He could feel his stomach twist in disgust. He definitely walked in on something he definitely shouldn’t have. So what did he do. He went back to his room. Staring at the ceiling with that petrified face still stuck on his face. To say he wasn’t able to sleep that night would be an understatement

-

“I feel like it’s impossible to date anyone with this crappy job.” Anya huffed in a frustrated tone. “I second to that.”, Curly sighed as he ate his crappy lunch.” Our shipments at a Minimum are 5 months! And it’s like we get a month or two back on earth, before they send us back to ship something!” Anya finished. The annoyed look on her face quite prominent.

“I get you Anya. I want to Acually spend time with someone and let them get to know me. But you can’t really do that on this floating rock.”, You said nonchalantly. You sure were letting Daisuke get to know you. All of you… Swansea thought. Trying not to gag at the imagie of what he witnessed last night.

You could feel Daisuke’s eyes turn to you. Lingering a bit longer than ‘just friends’. “Yeah man, it’s such a bummer!” Daisuke said. A light blush spread across his face as he said it. No one else except Swansea noticed.

“Say uh..” Anya started, looking up at you. “I saw you walking in here with a limp, you good?” She asked,her voice laced with concern. God why did you have to ask that Anya! Swansea cringed at her question. “Oh yea no I’m good! Just hit my leg on the wall while sleeping y’know.” You said. Hmh.. I’m sure you were doing some sort of sleeping. Swansea hurrying to finish his food. Quickly getting up to put his plate in the sink and immediately start work. He really just wants to take his mind off this..

-

“Swan-sea!” Daisuke said, dragging the two parts of Swansea’s name out. Swansea ignored Daisuke, continuing to work on the broken vent. “Dude did I do something wrong?” Swansea sighed. Since Daisuke wanted the truth he’ll get it.”For fucks sake Daisuke! Can you have them stop fucking like rabbits! I know you young people have your urges, but this has been going on for the past week. And it’s Saturday for crying out loud!�� Swansea yelled.

“AND IF YOU FREAKS ARE GONNA KEEP GOING AT IT. AT LEAST KEEP THE DOOR SHUT AND BE QUIET. SOME OF US ARE TRYING TO SLEEP.” Swansea finished, catching his breath. Daisuke just stood there stunned.

“You.. you heard us..?” Daisuke asked, his mouth agape and his eyes shot wide. “I didn’t just hear you guys. Saw it to! Close the damn door next time!” Swansea said irritated. Daisuke continued to stand there embarrassed. “Swansea uh.. I-I’m so sorry I didn’t realize.” Daisuke stuttered out. Still shocked about the revelation.

“Yeah you better be fucking sorry” Swansea muttered. Turning around before pausing. Sighing a bit. “At lest your getting some action in this hell hole. Reminds me of me and my wife.” He said. Before holding his fist out. “I’m only gonna do this once Daisuke.” Swansea said. Daisuke happily returned the fist bump.

“Now get the hell out of my sight for the rest of the day!” Swansea yelled. “Alright swan-sea!” Daisuke said, doing the same long period name thing. Swansea let out an annoyed sigh. At least the kid was happy…

[abi-renirk]

Thinking about Wymack putting up with Neil, alone, during his senior year. None of the other foxes are there to deal with his antics. Kevin isn’t there to talk about everything Exy related. Andrew isn’t there to keep him grounded and sane. Allison and Nicky aren’t pushing him out of his comfort zone with his style, appearance, etc. Matt isn’t there to be a friend. Dan can’t help him captain his team. Aaron isn’t there to annoy him. Renee isn’t there with her gentle, reassuring smile.

I know that some of the freshman from the EC become Neil’s friends, but it isn’t the same as the OG Foxes.

So, he turns to one of the few people he trusts, Dad Wymack™️. Neil joins him in his office for lunch and tells him all about Andrew’s most recent Exy game. “Did you see how many saves Andrew made last night?” 38. It was beautiful.” *heart eyes* Coach returns his attention to the paperwork he was working on when Neil walked in. He half listens as the striker explains a movie that Nicky said he needed to watch to understand current trends.

After a game night, Neil goes home with Wymack, who now lives together with Abby, and stays for dinner with the couple, yapping about everything that plagued him that day. “I talked to Andrew last night and he was telling me about this drill his pro team does at practice. He thinks it’s stupid, of course, but I think it could help us get through the other team’s defense easier.” He goes on to explain the drill between bites of pasta and sauce.

When Neil leaves, Coach looks at Abby, feeling slightly dumbfounded, “I never knew the kid could say so many words in such a short time.” Abby lets out a chuckle.

“I don’t get any paperwork finished anymore with him around so much.” He explains with fake annoyance. She gives him a soft smile, “He just misses Andrew and the rest of our Foxes. I think it’s says a lot that he trusts you with the details of his private life. We all know how hard that is for him.”

Dad Wymack sits in his thought for a quiet minute, thinking back to the locker room in Millport with the brown-haired, brown-eyed boy who was scared to live. To the airport before the new year with the red-haired, blue-eyed boy who was fighting for his family. To a cheap motel in Baltimore with a boy covered in scars who fought to stay and live. Neil has come a long way and Wymack’s chest swells with pride and love for the striker.

Two days later, on Monday, Neil shows up right on time for Wymack’s lunch hour, but the older man doesn’t mind the sound of Neil’s chattering over their shared lunch. “Allison told me my hair is getting too long, but the shampoo she sent me is making my curls look “delicious”. I don’t know what she means by that, how hair can look edible, but Andrew says not to worry about it. Speaking of Andrew, do you know how much he has been bench pressing in the gym? He’s up to—“

Wymack lets out a quiet, exasperated sigh as he leans back in his chair, accepting his fate for the next year as Neil continues talking. He may act annoyed about his new lunch time guest, but it means a lot that Neil feels safe with him, even if that means learning about pop culture and Neil’s distaste for broccoli.

[gothgoblinbabe]

Love Game

[Logan Howlett x fem!reader]

Warnings: MDNI/18+ use of she/her, female reader, swearing, being referred to as a girl, mention of being a stress eater, mild alcohol consumption and mention of alcoholism kinda, jealous!Logan, mild violence, you’re shorter than Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it up), little bit of spitting, sub!logan x kinda dom!reader, voyeurism? Technically?, use of pet names, I believe that’s it but pls lmk if I missed any! ps. you wear a dress in this but if that don't work for you, imagine its a sick ass tux/ fancy attire you're comfy in

Also non cannon compliant because I know Logan is heavy as shit and his body weight would crush you but just for a minute you’re gonna pretend like it wouldn’t

Summary: essentially [this ask] with plot ! // Scott needs to mind his god damn business, but he might’ve done you a favor by snatching your diary and waving it in Logan's face.

Word Count: 8K

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

“That fucking kid.”

You groaned, lifting your mattress and checking underneath and round your bed. You knew Scott was going to snatch your diary the moment you’d realized he overheard you tell Ororo where you kept it.  He was always busting your balls the same way he did Logans, even insisting it was a ‘two for one’ deal when he got to bother you at the same time. 

Well, he was really gonna regret messing with you this time.

“Summers! I’m going to wring your goddamn neck! Where is it?”

Your voice boomed through the open halls of the mansion as you barreled down the stairs, feet moving faster than your thoughts. Everything echoed in this place; if he was here, you know he heard you.

“Scott!”

You continued to call his name, stomping around until you locked eyes with him as you entered the kitchen. In his hands - to your abject horror - was your diary, spread open while Logan peeked over his shoulder. 

Truthfully, Scott was a little scared shitless of the consequences of what he’d done. He’d dealt with Logan back and forth, sure, but you? Terrifying. You had just about the same strength as Logan and about five times his rage. That’s why his eyes grew wide when he saw you, snapping the little book shut. 

You could feel your face burning. A diary was private within itself, but there were some things you’d written that were never supposed to be read by another soul; Scott and Logan’s included.

“Fucker,” you grumbled, reaching forward to grab the book from Scott’s hands until Logan snatched it, holding it above your head. 

“Ah, not so fast,” he teased.

You’d gotten into plenty of squabbles with Scott, but he was absolutely going to pay for this. He knew the way you felt about Logan and you swore he got some sick satisfaction out of trying to humiliate you. He only found out because he’d overheard you confiding in Jean late one night in the living room with a pint of ice cream in your hands, yapping while you shoveled Ben and Jerrys into your mouth.

Your eyes flickered between his face and Logan’s. If looks could kill, Scott would have dropped dead the second you walked into the kitchen. 

“Now what is this,” Logan asked with a lilt in his voice as his eyes scanned a page, “a whole paragraph for little ol’ me?”

Shit. 

“I’ll give it back, I promise, but I gotta read this.”

If you tried, you could maybe snatch the thing from his grip before he read too much. You considered jumping on him, piggybacking until he dropped it or handed it over. What lengths would you be willing to go through to keep it a secret anyway? Was it really even a big deal?

You had a crush. Everybody does at some point. A stupid, harmless crush and if this was how he was going to find out, so be it. 

You were still absolutely planning on tearing Scott from limb to limb, though.

“Huh,” Logan clicked his tongue, beginning to read from the pages, “No one knows how to piss me off like Logan.”

You sighed, dropping your head into your hands.

“True,” he commented, “and he spends a ridiculous amount of time in the bathroom to do his hair.”

“Also true,” Scott chimed in, becoming the subject of your seething gaze. 

“He’d save so much time if he just let me do it for him - like it would be hard to comb it into two cat ears,” he read, looking up to speak to you, “first of all, I told you they’re not cat ears.”

You simply nodded and rolled your eyes.

“Second of all, you couldn’t master ‘em anyway - I’d have to fix it myself.”

You just scoffed, leaning yourself back against the kitchen counter in an attempt to act nonchalant while you tapped one foot uncontrollably. Everything he’d read so far seemed to be the mundane stuff, nothing incriminating just yet. 

“God, how I wanna…play with his hair,” he read, eyebrow quirked in confusion.

Ah, there it is.

“That’s, uh - it’s really old, I didn’t mean, like - it’s from years ago,” you tried to blabber out an excuse.

“It’s dated - it’s from a couple months ago.”

You pursed your lips, nearly biting through the flesh at the same time from the pressure. You had to get that book out of his hands.

“He’s so stubborn,” Logan continued to read with a smug grin, holding the book high when you jumped to grab it, “I wish someone would just put him in his place.”

“Ooh,” Scott chuckled, looking to you, “are you gonna be the one to do it?”

“Fuck you, Summers - I’m so gonna get you back for this,” you snarled.

“I don’t think it would take too much for him to keep his mouth shut” Logan started to read again.

You instantly recognized the part he was reading and gasped, frantically reaching again for the book. 

“No, no, no, Logan, please - you don’t wanna read th-“

“I’d love to be the one to do it. I wanna take him and -”

He stopped reading and his eyes scanned the rest of the page, his amused smile faltering. You knew exactly what it was he’d read and you wanted to bury yourself alive. You remembered scrawling it down, snickering to yourself as you dragged the gel pen across the paper.

I wanna take him and tie him to my bedpost, probably shove my panties in his mouth and fuck him senseless.That would really shut him up.

Out of all the pages in that goddamn book, that’s the one he had to open up to?

You watched intently as his eyes flashed from yours to the page and then back again.

“What does it say?” Scott questioned, trying to lean over to get a look.

Instead of letting him read it, he snapped it shut and held it out towards you, his face expressionless. Was he mad? Grossed out?

“Don’t worry about it. We shouldn’t be readin’ her private stuff anyway.”

“Uh…,” you hesitated, fingers softly grazing his when you took it back, “thanks.”

You turned on your heel immediately and hastily made your way back to your room. You hoped to hide out there the rest of the day, praying maybe Logan would forget what he’d read or just let it be. You knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t.

You knew him so well because you were like mirrors of each other; smart mouthed and hot headed. You realized that the first couple months with the X-men, always butting heads with him until one mission where you had to grab the back of his jacket in an attempt to keep him where he was. You tugged with so much force that you nearly knocked him on his ass. Even Hank had never been bold enough to do that, not when Logan was as riled up as could be. From that point on, it was kind of an unspoken assumption that you would always be the one who calmed him down or held him back. So, you did just that; grabbing his wrist with both hands to force him to keep his claws to himself or pushing back against him when he tried to lunge at Scott for something stupid - though, after what he just pulled, you may just let Logan rip him apart next time. Though it was never acknowledged between the two of you, you were his anchor. You held him down when he began to drift away. Fortunately for you, he did the same - using minimal effort to keep you in place when you tried to go for someone’s face or going as far as to hike you over his shoulder and carry you away from the confrontation, all while you kicked and screamed to be let down. 

You avoided him the best you could for two days after the incident in the kitchen, quick comments in passing but never staying long enough for a full conversation out of fear that he’d bring up what he read. What were you supposed to say, anyway? ‘Sorry I thought about fucking you?’

You’d have to think of something because you were face to face in training a few days later. Scott stood to the side of you both, a stopwatch in his hand. 

“Alright, when I say go, whoever pins the other down for more than five seconds wins. Remember, you're each trying to beat your time from the last session.”

Scott’s voice almost sounded underwater. Your eyes were locked with Logan’s and though you wanted to rip your gaze away, you couldn’t.

“Ready? And…go!”

He backed out of the way and you tried to lunge at Logan, quickly being flipped onto your back.

“Okay, ow,” you whispered to yourself, immediately standing back up.

He tried to grab you when you stood but you caught his hand, twisting his arm behind his back to force him to the ground. You straddled his back and kept your weight on him but he was too quick, turning over and pushing you off him.

“Don’t get too excited, now,” he panted, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You were caught off by the low cadence of his voice, inadvertently letting your guard down and giving him an opportunity to pin your arms above your head and keep your legs down with the weight of his knee. Scott began to count down and you racked your brain for a way to get yourself out from underneath him. 

You were able to pull one of your legs free, sending him a little off balance and using your leg on the side of his torso to roll him over on his back again. You straddled his waist, using your hands and your forearms to hold his down. That, however, left you nose to nose while panting for air. 

“What, you thought I’d let you win?” You asked, tongue poking at the corner of your open mouth. It was usual for you to tease each other with little snide comments. Nothing any different from the usual, right?

“Nah, I just really like havin’ you on top.”

Nope, definitely different. 

You didn’t even hear Scott call time on your match at first. 

“Hey! Lovebirds! I said you can get off each other. Jesus,” he groaned. You finally remembered where you were and quickly scrambled off of Logan. 

“Aw, really? It was just gettin’ good,” he chuckled. You could feel his eyes on you as you gathered your belongings with your back turned. You tried to step out into the hallway, praying he wouldn’t catch you before you met the elevator doors - of course, you weren’t that lucky.

“Hey, hey - princess, wait up,” you heard him call after you and you stopped, turning on your heel with an irritated expression.

“About the other day, the thing you wrote - “

You sighed, rubbing your face in distress and cutting him off before he could finish.

“Listen, Logan,” you quickly looked around the corridor to make sure you were alone, “I know what you read, I don’t wanna talk about it. It - look, it was some stupid phase where I had a crush and it’s over, okay?”

He tilted his head. You hoped he would simply nod and move on, but you watched his lips curl into a smile instead.

“Aw, what happened - you changed your mind?”

You knew him well enough to understand the look on his face. He was never gonna let this go - in fact, he was probably going to nearly torture you over it. 

“Shut up,” you huffed and continued to walk away, keeping your stare straight ahead.

“Aw, pretty girl -“

You dropped your belongings to the floor with an audible thud and gathered the front of Logan’s t-shirt in your fists, tugging him down to your height so you were face to face. 

“First of all, I told you not to call me that - ‘princess’, ’pretty girl’ - like I’m one of your little girlfriends. Okay, kitty cat?” you scolded through gritted teeth. He hated being called that and you knew it.

His eyebrows were raised and his lips parted in surprise.

“And second of all,” you continued with a deep breath, “you read it, it’s done - leave it be, would you? It doesn’t mean anything.”

You still had his shirt in your tight grip.

“Alright, alright - I’m just teasing,” he admitted, trying to pry your fingers from his t-shirt, “and I’m sorry, I never should’ve been reading it in the first place.” 

You sighed and finally let him go.

“Fine, I forgive you. And you can’t ever tell anyone what you read. Promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“So, we’re cool again? Nothings weird?”

“Not unless you make it weird.”

“You were the one flirting with me.”

“Uh - was not. I was simply creating a distraction to throw you off guard and it worked.”

“I’ll get you back.”

“Sure, you will.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

You and Logan were in forced proximity hours later, standing with Scott, Jean and Ororo in Charles’ office.

“Do we really have to go?” Logan groaned, hanging his head back in frustration.

You were staring at the thick paper invite atop Charles’ desk. All your names were scrawled in cursive, surrounded by small gold detailing with the event written on top. It was some kind of Gala, something for charity that you couldn’t quite make out from where you were standing.

“It would be a wonderful opportunity to represent the school, yourselves and the mutant population as a whole,” Charles answered.

“You really think wolvie and his little hothead wrangler are gonna be well behaved enough to not make a scene?” Scott gestured towards you both.

Logan stepped towards him and you instinctively grabbed the sleeve of his jacket to hold him back. He looked back at you, clearly annoyed.

“We’ll be fine,” you insisted while glaring daggers in Scott’s direction.

You didn’t notice that you were still holding the sleeve of Logan’s jacket when Charles dismissed you. You let go and cleared your throat as you followed him out of the room.

“There's no way in hell I'm wearing a suit,” he grumbled, looking down at his flannel and jeans.

“You don’t wanna play dress up?” You teased.

“And look like a stuck up prick? No.”

“I'm kind of excited to wear something nice for once,” you admitted, “I’ve got a couple nice dresses I’ve never even worn. Besides, maybe there’s gonna be a couple of hot, rich guys there.”

You were looking straight ahead as you walked side by side down the hall, smiling to yourself. If you had turned your head, you would have seen the way Logan rolled his eyes. 

“What, you’re gonna go home with some rich schmuck just ‘cause he’s got money?”

He sounded almost annoyed. You furrowed your eyebrows and shrugged. 

“I don’t know, if he’s good looking, maybe.”

That was only a little truthful. You were not the type of person who was comfortable enough to go back to a stranger's place or hook up with someone you’d never see again. But maybe you could, if it would keep your mind off Logan and convince him to forget about what he’d read a few days ago. And if the guy did have money? It certainly wouldn’t be a problem for you.

“Oh,” Ororo piped up from behind you, stretching out the vowel, “I see - you’re going shopping. Gotta try before you buy, huh?”

She playfully poked your side and you chuckled, swatting her hand away.

“Call it what you want,” you responded, “but I’m gonna have fun, at the very least.”

You would end up having fun - just in a much different way than you expected.

You decided on getting ready for the night in Ororo’s room when the time came a few weeks later. She was touching up her makeup at her vanity while you changed behind the bathroom door. 

“Does it fit?” She asked through the wood with her eyes still on her reflection.

You were attempting to zip the back of your dress with your arm stretched uncomfortably over your shoulder.

“In a way? Kind of.”

Jean entered the room just then, having already gotten ready in her and Scott’s room.

“She’s trying on a dress that’s been in her closet since last year that still had tags,” Ororo explained to her as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“Can one of you zip me up, though?” you sighed in defeat and opened the door, “I can’t get it.”

“Woah, mama!” Ororo comically wolf whistled and you rolled your eyes with a smile.

The dress was your favorite out of your collection of unworn clothing; it showed the perfect amount of skin and hugged your figure phenomenally. To top it off, the color complemented your skin in the best way possible.

“I don’t look silly? I feel a little funny getting all dolled up,” you confessed, turning around so Jean could pull your zipper up the rest of the way.

“Definitely not silly,” Jean reassured you but mumbled under her breath after, “Logan’s gonna lose it.”

You turned back around to quirk an eyebrow at her.

“Who cares what he thinks? Did I say I care what he thinks? ‘Cause I don’t. Like, at all.”

“Honey,” Ororo began, “we already know you like him, remember?”

You groaned and bent down to look into the mirror on her vanity.

“I don’t - not anymore, at least.”

“Yeah, right,” Jean giggled, “keep telling yourself that.”

Ororo looked at the time on her watch and hastily stood to slip on her shoes, “We’re gonna be late if we don’t leave soon. Logan and Scott are supposed to meet us downstairs.”

You stepped into your shoes and grabbed the little bag you’d carry for the night, following her and Jean out the door. When you finally got to the staircase, you could see Scott and Logan talking to each other at the bottom, the latter of the two standing with his back facing the stairs. 

“All right, ready!” Jean enthusiastically announced. If she hadn’t said anything, the simultaneous clicking of your shoes would’ve announced your presence for you.

Logan turned around to face you. At that moment, he wondered why he ever complained about going in the first place. His eyes were glued to you as you came down the stairs and you could feel yourself start to get warmer. 

He looked so good in a tux, Jesus Christ. You liked when he wore those tight fitting tanks and jeans, sure, but something about the formal attire really did it for you. His cologne wafting into your space when you stood next to him didn’t do much to help dispel any feelings you had, either. How badly you wanted to just forget the stupid event, tug him into your bedroom upstairs and show him that you were so not kidding about what you’d scribbled in your diary. Alas, that was certainly not going to happen.

‘Just an old crush,’ you internally tried to remind yourself, ‘just an old crush - that’s it. I’m not into him anymore.’

Except that you knew damn well it was a lie. 

“We’re gonna be late if we stand here any longer, c’mon,” Scott began walking with Jean while you, Logan and Ororo followed.

“You look nice,” Logan finally spoke as you made it to the door, “think you’ll bag any of those rich guys?”

You almost asked what he was talking about, too lost in thinking about how you actually wanted to bag him and not some stranger.

“I don’t know,” you answered truthfully, “but if I do, you’ll be the last to find out.”

“Oh, really? Why’s that?”

“Because I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Got that right.”

You eventually found yourself in a large, decorated open room, sat in the corner with Logan while he nursed a glass of whiskey and you anxiously scarfed down appetizers. The rest of the team had walked off to mingle - like normal people do.

“Kid, you’re gonna choke if you keep eatin’ that fast,” he warned you.

“ ‘m a stress eater,” you explained with a mouthful of fancy cheese, “besides, you’re a stress drinker. Thank god there’s so many tiny foods.”

He scoffed and took a sip of his drink. 

“What are you even stressed about, anyway? Half your job tonight is to just stand there and look pretty and you’ve already got that down.”

“Thank you, I think?” your eyes nervously scanned the room, “I just hate being in a crowded place, especially one this big that’s full of complete strangers.”

“Why do you think I’m holdin’ a glass right now?” 

Your eyes flickered between his and the half full glass in his hand. You wordlessly took it from his fingers before he even had time to react and downed the contents in one gulp.

“Well, that’s one way to calm your nerves,” he commented, “but if you keep drinkin’ like that, you’re gonna be face first on the ground before the nights even started.”

You were still holding a grimace from the burn of the alcohol but shook your head and cleared your throat, “I just needed the kick in the ass - I’m good.”

“So, you’re gonna go socialize? Good luck,” he raised his eyebrows, “something tells me these people aren’t really who we want to be hanging out with.”

“Why, because they have an immense amount of cash to burn and we don’t? You can’t hate people just because they have money, Logan.”

“Then how am I doin’ it right now?”

You rolled your eyes.

“I think there’s gotta be a few genuinely good people out there who just happen to be rich.”

“Uh-huh, and I think two plus two is five - it doesn’t make me right.”

“You know what? I’m going to prove you wrong,” you said smugly, standing up from the table. 

“I think you’ll prove me right.”

“You wanna bet?”

“It’s a deal.”

“What are we betting, exactly?”

“How ‘bout this - if either of us can find someone here we actually want to go home with, you win. If we don’t, I win.”

“Fine,” you narrowed your eyes and crossed your arms, “what does the winner get?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “we can figure it out later.”

With that, you both dispersed. You were still feeling uncomfortable but that wasn’t going to go away unless you did something about it. Do you just go up and talk to someone? What do you say?

“Excuse me,” a voice said from behind you and you turned around, only to be face to face with a cute guy in a tux.

“Oh, so they come up to you,” you thought immediately.

“Uh, I don’t mean to be forward with you, but you look very beautiful,” he said politely, a charming smile on his face, “I saw you when you walked in and wanted to say something, I just wasn’t sure if you came with someone.”

You took a second to respond, still processing the fact that he even came up to you. 

“Oh, thanks,” you finally replied, “you’re not too bad yourself.”

You tried to use humor to dispel the awkwardness - the type of awkwardness you feel when you get asked to go to a school dance in the seventh grade - but this guy was cute. If you just got to know him a bit, the mild discomfort would probably pass.

“I didn’t come here with anyone, by the way,” you added, “Well, I mean, I did but not in that way - I’m with friends.”

“That’s good to know,” he said, grinning, “in that case, would you wanna dance with me?”

You hadn’t even asked each other your names, and you didn’t really care. 

You nodded and let him take your hand, “I have to warn you, though - I’m no dancer.”

“Well, do I look like one? ‘Cause I’m certainly not, either. But when there’s a beautiful woman in the room that you really wanna talk to, you’ve got to think of a reason to go up and talk to her.”

“I don’t know - I think you just might be a bit of a smooth talker.”

He was and it was definitely working. He clicked his tongue and waved his hand dismissively.

“Oh, c’mon, don’t make me blush.”

He was funny, too. All you had to do was find out a little more about him - for the sake of the bet, yes, but also to determine the probability of breaking his bed frame later if it all went well.

So, you let him rest his arms around your waist and you put your hands on his shoulders. It was kind of nice to have someone so close. You started to feel mildly uncomfortable, though, as if someone was staring at you. You ignored it anyway, deciding it was just the anxiety of being in a place with a lot of people.

Really, it was Logan standing across the room with his stare glued to you two. He looked like he wanted to bore a hole into the poor guy's skull. When you finally caught sight of him, he turned and seemingly disappeared.

You spent a bit of time with your new date, intending to subtilely interrogate him to find out if he fit the criteria for your bet with Logan. Even if he didn’t? You might let him take you home anyway.

You sat with him at an abandoned table, leaning your head on your hand as you half - listened to him talk about stocks. You glanced around the room and spotted Logan again almost immediately. 

He was leaning against the wall with a girl hanging from his arm. She was talking away and he looked completely disinterested. The whole point of coming was to distract yourself from anything to do with him and there you were, ignoring your date to silently seethe at a girl who was only in his vicinity.

You tried to zone back in on the conversation and really pay attention when he started to talk about his job. It was some tech company you’d heard of, a big name in the industry.

“Oh, so, what do you do there?” 

“Well, I own it.”

You squinted and sat up straight.

“You own the company.”

It was more of a statement than a question.

He nodded and you raised your eyebrows. This was going much better than you anticipated. You couldn’t help but glance over at Logan to see that girl still standing with him.  She was twirling a strand of her long hair around her finger. She was undeniably pretty, so you wondered why he wasn’t even looking at her while she hung all over him.

“Hey, would you wanna dance with me again? I know it’s a little slow paced, but I love this song.”

You returned your attention to the man in front of you and smiled as politely as possible.

“You know what? Sure, why not.”

You let him lead you into the middle of the room and rest his hands on your hips. He pulled you much closer than you’d been standing before, so much so that you were nearly stepping on his shoes. His hands slid down further and you laughed a little to yourself. This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? So you wondered why it didn’t feel like something you wanted at all.

You caught Ororo’s gaze from across the room and she smiled, flashing you a thumbs up. When you caught Logan’s gaze, he was anything but smiling. There was a reason you felt like all this was something you didn’t want - you knew you wished it was him you were standing with. Still, you weren’t sure of why he wouldn’t tear his eyes from you or why he had such a scowl on his face. 

You stopped staring back when your date planted a kiss on your forehead.

“What was that for?”

“Well, I kinda wanted to kiss you but I figured maybe goin’ right for the lips might have been too much.”

“We don’t even know each other's names.”

“Do we have to?”

You thought hard for a moment, wondering if Logan was still watching. It wasn’t fair to kiss someone just to try to make another person jealous, you knew that. He didn’t even have a reason to be jealous.

“You can kiss me.”

He was an alright kisser - nothing exciting. His lips were soft, though, and you liked the smell of his cologne. Before you could deepen the kiss any further, he was tugged backwards and off of you.

Logan had the back of the poor guy's jacket in his fists, nearly yanking him down to the floor with how much force he used.

“Alright, bub,” he grunted, “I think that's enough, she’s leavin’.”

You glared daggers at him with your lips parted in surprise.

“I can leave when I want to,” you said through gritted teeth, “what the hell is your problem?”

“Is he your boyfriend?” your date asked, nervously looking between you both.

“He’s n-” you began to answer and Logan cut you off as he grabbed your arm.

“Yeah. Get lost.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows in anger but could feel your face becoming warm. You weren’t totally sure if you were turning pink from how enraged you were with Logan or from the words that just came out of his mouth.

“Outside. Now,” you demanded, tugging your arm from his grip.

You turned to walk away and he followed as you grumbled to him, holding your dress up a bit so you wouldn’t trip as you stomped out.

‘What the fuck was that?”

He didn’t answer, simply following at your heels with his eyes on the marble floor of the corridor. You swung open the door and stepped into the cool summer evening air, waiting until the door shut behind you to speak again.

“What, you didn’t want me to win the bet?” you guessed with raised eyebrows.

“You’re really gonna let some guy you don’t know shove his tongue in your mouth?”

You stood in stunned silence for a moment.

“Are you kidding? How is that any of your business?”

He scoffed and shook his head.

“I can’t believe you’re gonna let some asshole be all over you just ‘cause he's got money.”

“What?” you furrowed your eyebrows, “why do you care?”

“Why don’t you? Seriously, you’d just go home with some guy and fuck him?”

“I don’t - I don’t know,” you stuttered, “maybe, but that was part of that stupid bet! Not that it’s any of your concern!”

You were nearly shouting at each other.

He clicked his tongue and spoke in a sour tone, “none of my concern, sure. I didn’t think you’d actually try and go home with someone -”

“Okay, you know what?” you threw your hands up in frustration, “I don’t know what the hell your problem is or why you’re acting like some jealous boyfriend, but fucking cut it out!”

You were both finally quiet for a moment. The sound of cicadas and crickets songs filled the silence. Logan’s face was pleading, his features highlighted by the soft golden yellow light seeping through the building’s windows.

“You just don’t get it, do you?” he mumbled under his breath, his arms crossed over his chest.

You raised your eyebrows, “get what?”

You sounded exasperated, sick of playing what felt like the worst game of twenty questions ever.

Logan brought a hand to his face, scratching at his facial hair - something you recognized as a nervous habit.

“That stupid fuckin’ notebook, the little one you write in,” he groaned, “I just wish I never read it.”

“So, you’re mad about that?” You asked, clearly still confused as to what he was trying to say, “listen, I’m sorry, it wasn’t -“

“No, no, that’s not what I’m saying,” he interrupted, “it’s - fuck, I don’t know. I don’t know, It's like I read that damn thing and lost my mind.”

You waited for him to elaborate, a puzzled expression still plastered on your face.

“It’s all I can think about, all the time - it's like I close my eyes and I can still see it written down in your chicken scratch. I don’t even know what to do, It’s so stupid,” he huffed.

You still didn’t understand what he was trying to tell you or whether he was talking to you or himself.

“And then - I don’t know, alright - you look so…” he groaned with his face in his hands, “I like you - is that enough? Ya’ get it? I liked you for awhile and then Scott had to go peekin’ through shit that wasn’t his and reading that shit you wrote just made it even worse for me. I’m supposed to read that you wanna ‘fuck me senseless’ and just let it go? You thought that wasn’t gonna do something to me?”

You were slack jawed, feeling like your legs were going to give out from under you.

He seemed angry, his nostrils flaring while he held a frown.

“So…you -“ 

His hands cupped your face and he leaned down close enough for you to feel his warm breath on your skin.

“So, I want you to fuck me like you said you wanted to.”

Your eyes grew so wide that you feared they might pop out of your head. 

“Would you, if I asked?” He continued in a low voice.

Your stomach erupted in butterflies and you nodded without hesitation. Conversations like this with Logan had only ever happened in your dreams.

His lips finally connecting with yours made your head spin. If he wasn’t tenderly holding your face, you might’ve just let yourself fall to the ground.

“I’ve been thinking about you for months, you know,” he admitted when he pulled away, “watchin’ when you walk away, thinking about how you say my name, wishing I could just tell ya’ - I didn’t have the nerve. Seein’ you with another guy, though - I couldn’t take it anymore. I thought I could and I just can't.”

You almost expected to hear the beeping of your alarm clock that would startle you awake in your bedroom. Still, it never came. You could feel his hot breath on your face, the breeze on your skin, the warmth of his hands; it was all too real.

“You mean it? All of it?”

You didn’t know why your voice sounded so desperate, almost pleading with him not to toy with you.

“ ‘course I do. Of course, I mean - god, look at you.”

His mouth was on yours again and you smiled against his lips, your cheeks tinted pink.

“Hey, wait,” you pulled away momentarily, “why did you agree to that bet in the first place, then?”

He gnawed on his bottom lip anxiously.

“I kinda figured you wouldn’t be able to find someone good enough, I don’t know - maybe I could convince you to come back with me instead.”

“That was your plan?” you let out a small laugh, smiling so wide that your face began to ache.

“Well, It might’ve worked if you hadn’t met what’s-his-face in there.”

“I don’t know his name,” you shrugged, “didn’t care to ask.”

He quirked an eyebrow at you.

“I let him kiss me because I wanted to make you jealous,” you admitted, “I still like you.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

His expression was as smug as could be.

“That you still like me? Yeah.”

“How? Am I that obvious?”

“It’s not your fault,” he shrugged and lowered his voice to a whisper as he put his lips to your ear, “I could smell how wet you’ve been all night.”

You swallowed hard and shivered when his hand slid up your back.

“And it worked, by the way - I’m jealous.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded and leaned his forehead against yours.

“Well,” you affectionately scratched at the hair at the back of his head, “are you gonna do something about it, then?” 

He kissed you with much more fever than before and you caught his lower lip between your teeth, making him groan into your mouth. His hands were in your hair to push you even further into him to the point he was practically hunched over your body. When you finally took a second to catch your breath, you had a realization.

“I won the bet.”

He furrowed his eyebrows.

“Please tell me you don’t mean you’re actually still gonna go home with that guy.”

“No,” you rolled your eyes and let out an amused scoff, “I meant you, Logan.”

“Me,” he repeated with a beaming smile, “you’re coming home with me.”

You nodded and giggled, absentmindedly fixing the hair hanging in front of his forehead. 

He was staring into your eyes in a way that had you feeling as though there was nothing else around you - no fancy party inside, no responsibility to socialize - just you and Logan in the cool light of the moon. He was studying your face like he’d never see it again if he turned away.

“What if I couldn’t wait till we got home?” He asked quietly. His warm breath just barely grazed your lips.

Your eyes widened and you thought for a moment, looking between him and the door beside you.

“C’mere,” you instructed simply, taking him by his hand and leading him inside to walk down the main hallway. You scanned the area and once you were sure no one would see either of you, you began trying knobs of different doors to see if one would open. When one finally gave, you slipped inside with Logan in toe and flicked on the lights. It was a small dusty office, one that probably hadn’t been used in a few months at the very least.

Neither of you wasted any time in taking advantage of your newfound isolation. Logan was kissing you like he was starving to taste you, working his way down your neck with an open mouth to leave darkening spots slick with his saliva.

“Logan,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed momentarily from the way he was nipping and sucking at your skin.

“I love when you say my name,” he admitted, mumbling into your neck. His hands were everywhere - tangled in your hair, resting on your waist, your hips, your ass - he was desperate to keep his hands on you now that he had you. 

You disconnected your lips for a moment so you could hop back to sit up on the top of the desk behind you. You hiked the skirt of your dress above your knees to avoid ripping it and motioned for him to stand between your knees as you held the middle of the skirt down with one hand.

“I’ve got an idea for my reward for winning the bet,” you smiled mischievously, leaning up to hold his chin and force him to look you in the eye, “what do you say, pretty boy? You wanna be part of it?”

He nodded eagerly and the pace of his breathing increased significantly.

“Good,” you leaned back on one hand, using the other to tug at Logan’s suit jacket, “off.”

He obeyed without hesitation and shrugged the garment off his shoulders. He began to untuck his shirt and you stopped him with a gentle touch.

“Did I say to take that off too, sweetheart? I don’t think I did,” you spoke softly in a firm tone.

“No - no, ma’am.”

It drove you crazy to have him under your thumb in that way, his usual domineering nature and dominance melting away by the second. 

“So do as you're told, baby,” you instructed, “if you’re good for me, maybe I’ll reward you back.”

You could see him swallow hard, eyelids nearly fluttering closed when he thought of all the possibilities of what that might entail. 

“F- mhm, fuck,” he stuttered when you brought a hand to the front of his pants and barely grazed the spot below the button with your fingertips. He began to twitch more and more with every touch.

“Are you gonna say yes?” your voice was near taunting, “or do I have to try a little more convincing?”

You popped the button on the front of his pants with ease and slid your hand underneath to feel him over the soft fabric of his underwear.

“Yeah, yes, I - ah, yeah,” he moaned in response, rocking his hips towards your hand and resting his forehead on your shoulder.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You smiled and gently kissed his temple.There was something so lovably vulnerable about the way he was acting with you. You knew he’d never let another soul find out that he loved what you did to him - dreaming of you whispering affectionate nicknames and praise as he sloppily pounded into you or spending hours on his sore knees just so he could feel you cum on his face - but the intensity of his devotion bordered otherworldly. 

“Do me a favor, baby,” you started, lifting your hips for a second to drag your panties down your legs, “take out your pretty cock for me.”

He obeyed, tugging his pants down his thighs just enough for his already hard dick to spring up out of the confines of his briefs. You inadvertently licked your lips at the sight, thinking of how heavenly he’d feel in you. He was huge, but for a guy who’s six foot two, it wasn’t a surprise.

He stood expectantly between your legs with his hands on your thighs. You leaned back on both hands, cocking your head to the side as you spoke.

“Touch yourself first and maybe I’ll let you touch me.”

The ‘maybe’ was a bluff. He knew as well as you did that you’d let him touch you regardless.

“Gimme your hand,” you ordered before he could even wrap his fingers around himself. You leaned your mouth over the palm of his hand and spat.

He groaned from the gesture alone, knees nearly buckling when he finally brought his hand down to coat his cock in your saliva.

“Feels good?” You cooed, eyes flickering from his face to his leaking cock in his fist.

“Mm - mhm, yeah, ‘s good,” he panted, “really fucking good.”

You failed an attempt to hide your wide smile, hypnotized by the repeated motion of his hand. He looked so pretty like this - his jaw hung open, chest heaving while his face became more flushed with every passing second. You could feel the rush of heat in your lower stomach just from watching him.

You couldn’t help yourself from leaning forward a little and unbuttoning his shirt from the top down, all while he watched you intently, his breathing becoming heavier the closer your hand came to his.

“Think of you all the time when I do this at home,” he panted, “you’re so fuckin’ beautiful.”

The compliment made your heart swell; it was a sweet remark that so greatly contrasted the obscene speed of his hand as he stroked himself. 

“You’re such a pretty boy,” you whispered and planted a kiss on his pink cheek, “you look amazing.”

You caught the way the motion of his hand slowed and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching forward and wrapping your fingers around his cock. He growled, dropping his head to rest on your shoulder as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Don’t work yourself up so soon, kitty cat, or you’re gonna be finished before I even get to fuck you,” you murmured into his ear and he gasped as you started to pump him.

“Don’t - ah - don’t call me that,” he whimpered.

“Aw, you don’t like it, my pretty kitty?”

He growled again, even more animalistically , but his hips jerking into your hand told you he really didn’t hate that nickname as much as he told you he did.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” you continued to tease, “I know you like it - you love bein’ my big, pretty kitty.”

He groaned, lifting his head from your shoulder and crashing his lips into yours. 

“Sh-shut up,” he managed to grunt.

You immediately withdrew your hand and sat back again.

He whimpered from the loss of contact and looked at you with pleading eyes, silently asking why you stopped.

“I said you had to be good for me, didn’t I?” you asked.

He nodded, eyes traveling from your thighs, up your body and then back down again. 

“Good boys don’t talk back,” you said simply, raising your eyebrows.

“I’m sorry, I’ll - I’m good, I’ll behave, just please -“

His speech was cut short when you hiked your dress up even further to expose your bare, wet pussy.

“Fucking Christ,” he moaned.

You tugged the top of your dress down to expose your chest and he had to grip the desk you were sitting on so his legs wouldn’t give out from under him. 

“If you can be real quiet,” you pushed some fallen hair out of his face, “I’ll let you cum in me. You want that?”

“Please, ‘v been thinking of that for fucking weeks,” he begged, “please, please, baby.”

He tentatively cupped one of your breasts and you rested your hand atop his, encouraging him to squeeze and knead however he pleased. You spurred him on to the point that he couldn’t resist leaning down to take one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue and sucking while his fingers toyed with the other one.

You couldn’t help whining from the sensation of his mouth on you while you combed your fingers through his hair.

He finally detached himself after ravishing your chest in wet kisses and left a string of saliva connecting his tongue to your nipple. You giggled a little to yourself and crashed your lips into his again in a heated mess of tongues and teeth. You scooted your hips up on the table and used your grip on his cock to graze his tip up against you, making him shudder.

“You’re so - fuck, you’re such a fuckin’ tease,” he gasped and held your hips in an iron grip.

“What’d I say about back talk?” you moved the head of his cock further away from you.

He groaned in frustration, moving his hands to hold your face, “Honey, I’m already beggin’ -  please, I need you.”

The desperation in his voice made you even wetter.

“I guess you’ve been pretty good for me - do you think you deserve it?” 

He nodded eagerly and placed his hand over yours that was around him. You let him nudge your hand away to align himself with your entrance. His eyes bore into yours as he finally began to push himself into you, rocking his hips slowly to help you adjust to his size. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he wrapped his around your waist. When he fully sheathed himself inside of you, he let out a loud moan that echoed through the small space.

“I told you to be quiet, sweetheart,” you whispered into his ear.

“Uh-huh, ‘s a lil’ hard when I’m fuckin’ a girl I’ve been dreamin’  about for months,” he mumbled, working up a steady pace while you wrapped your legs around him and locked your ankles at the small of his back to help push him further into you.

“You feel so good, Logan,” you moaned, kissing down his jaw and throat.

He groaned at full volume again.

“Are you gonna stay quiet? or do I have to shut you up? Hm?” you grinned and he made an even louder noise. You reached behind you to find your panties and folded them into a ball, holding his jaw with your other hand.

“Open.”

He obeyed immediately, rolling his eyes into the back of his head when you stuffed them into his open mouth.

“Good kitty.”

He let out a muffled growl and the speed of his hips increased.

“Yeah,” you panted, “I know you like that.”

The angle at which he was fucking you made it so that he was hitting the sensitive spot inside of you over and over again, making you gasp each time. Sweat was forming on his neck and down both your chests, practically sticking your skin together in the hot, stuffy room.

“You’re - you’re so pretty,” you told him truthfully, admiring the rosey tint of his face and the drool that was starting to run down from the corner of his mouth. His eyelids fluttered closed and he started to thrust into you hard enough to shake the desk you were sitting on. 

“Easy, kitty cat - you’re gonna break somethin’,” you muttered into the hot skin of his neck with a smug smile on your face.

His pace didn’t falter in the slightest, his hands gripping your ass to push you towards him every time he slammed his hips forward. The fabric of your panties muffled the guttural moan he choked on when you lightly sunk your teeth into his shoulder. He slid his hand between your bodies to bring his thumb to your clit, working tight circles around the bundle of nerves in rhythm with the thrust of his hips.

“Fuck, fuck, I-“ you were speechless, at a loss for words from the brutal combination of the pressure he applied with his fingers and the way he repeatedly hit that spot inside of you. His eyes were squeezed shut and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, still whining and growling like an animal into the fabric of your underwear. You felt the heat in your lower stomach start to build and you buried your face in his shoulder, your mascara smudged under your eyes.

“Logan, Logan, I’m - ah - ‘m gonna come,” you warned, tugging on the back of his hair.

He groaned and yanked the fabric out of his mouth, immediately bringing his lips to yours so he could tenderly make out with you while the squelching sound of your dripping cunt filled the room. 

“C’mon,” he growled into your mouth, “c’mon, baby, please.”

Both your chins were slick with each other's saliva from the frantic way you’d smashed your lips together. Your whining and pleading became louder with every roll of his hips until the sensation sent you over the edge, euphoria blossoming from your lower stomach and spreading all throughout your body.

“Oh my god, Logan,” you nearly yelled, your hands slipping under his open shirt to scratch down his back, “s-so good. I love you.”

The three words slipped out without hesitation and your eyes widened, mild humiliation replacing the fading feeling of your orgasm.

His hips rutted against yours when you spoke and he leaned his face down so he was nose to nose with you.

“Love you so much.”

He kissed you softly with both his hands on your cheeks, so filled with affection that you could’ve cried. He slid his hands down back to your hips and kept his forehead against yours as he continued to drill into you.

“I don’t - I don’t ever wanna see ya’ with anybody else,” he panted, “I needed ya’ so bad. You - ah - ya’ drive me crazy.”

Even after having already came, his pussy-drunk rambling still spawned butterflies in the pit of your stomach.

“You’ll never see me with someone else, baby - promise. ‘s always been you. Only ever really wanted you,” you admitted with a soft voice.

His thrusts became sloppy and you could tell that spurring him on with your words would make him finish just as quickly as you did.

“I’m yours, always have been,” you whispered in his ear, “you’re the only one I’ve ever thought about fucking me like this.”

He choked out a sob into your shoulder and came with an animalistic growl, looking down to watch the mess being made all over your inner thighs.

“Love you so fucking much,” he repeated with a sigh, slowly stopping the thrust of his hips and resting his head against yours again.

“I love you, too,” you replied and planted a sweet kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Sorry I made such a mess of ya’,” he apologized, spreading your thighs as he pulled out, “I’ll clean ya’ up when we’re home, I swear.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” you chuckled, readjusting your dress and slipping your underwear back on while Logan tucked himself back into his pants and buttoned his shirt.

You caught a glimpse of the watch on his wrist as he moved and grabbed his hand so you could see the time.

“Shit! We were supposed to meet everyone back out front ten minutes ago,” you realized aloud, slipping yourself off the desk and pulling your dress down.

He mirrored your haste and let you fix his hair, doing the same for you and wiping away the mascara under your eyes.

“Okay, okay, c’mon,” you insisted, opening the door and slipping out hand in hand. You scurried down the abandoned corridor and all the way to the front exit. When Logan pushed open the door, you were met with Jean, Scott, and Ororo standing with worried expressions.

“What happened to you guys?” Scott asked before Jean nudged him in the arm, pointing towards your intertwined hands.

You looked towards where she was pointing and back up again, “Oh, uh…”

You tried to think of an excuse and looked to Logan beside you for help. 

“Nothin’,” he said in a nonchalant manner, “just got lost around the place - lot’s of rooms in there.”

Ororo raised her eyebrows suspiciously. 

“Sure, and, uh - Is that why you’re holding hands?”

You laughed a little, tugging his hand behind your back.

“Well,” you started, “remember I said I’d try to bag a guy tonight? Um-”

“I’ve been bagged,” Logan interrupted with a huge, smug grin.

“I wasn’t gonna put it like that,” you insisted, “but - yeah.”

“Finally,” Jean huffed and rolled her eyes, “I thought we’d have to have an intervention.”

“Huh?” Logan narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, c’mon,” Ororo laughed, “we all knew you liked each other, even before you did.” 

“And you never said anything?” Logan asked.

“Neither of you ever believed us!”

“True,” you agreed with a shrug and giggle. 

“I believe you now,” he stated, still holding your hand as you all made your way into the night, “She might like me. Just a little bit.”

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

A/N: Thank you so much if you read till the end :) !! I did get stuck with some writers block in the middle of this and I'm not completely fulfilled w it but if I kept working on it it may take another week and my brain can't do it

Still working on requests rn so if you sent one in, I haven't forgotten about you!!! I'm trying to do two at a time so I can keep up (I won't burn myself out dw I usually do nothing all day till I work in the afternoon) <3

[springismss]

ᱬ ࣪𖤐 thoughts of rockstar! sukuna turning into rockstar boyfriend! sukuna.

had this thought while listening to v.a.n earlier when working.

general swearing but this part is sfw.

f! reader. as always, reblogs/likes are always appreciated! enjoy ᱬ ࣪𖤐

part 1 word count: 1.2k | series word count: 4.9k

links: jjk masterlist | masterlist | part 2 | part 3

rockstar! sukuna who stood pouting like a child with his arms folded, not caring to listen to what his bandmate had to say about the tickets currently being waved in his hand.

rockstar! sukuna who’s currently standing backstage at a concert for a new and upcoming band, one that shouldn’t have that many fans but judging by the crowd that was still gathering, he was wrong.

rockstar! sukuna who’s still tuning out his bandmate when they chatter on about how they got the passes thanks to connections and this new band was going to make it big, all thanks to the main star - their lead singer.

rockstar! sukuna who’s now paying attention to what’s said once he hears that the lead singer is a girl. things have just gotten interesting, it was rare to have a female in such a male-dominated space, he had to see this for himself.

rockstar! sukuna who’s not impressed when he first sees you walking past his group. you looked so shy and meek while quickly offering a “hello” and a wave. clearly the idiot was mistaken when he was yapping earlier.

rockstar! sukuna who’s eating his words soon after when he hears the sounds that come out once you open your mouth after getting the crowd going. the singing, the screaming, the growling? you were far from meek.

rockstar! sukuna who watches you carefully, the way you jump around the stage, the bright smile on your face as you enjoy the buzz around you as you continue to perform for your fans - a buzz he understands all too well.

rockstar! sukuna who finds himself tapping his foot to some of the songs your band plays, it’s totally because he’s a musician and not because he’s starting to enjoy himself.

rockstar! sukuna who finds himself clapping along with his bandmates once your set ends and the lights come back on, watching the bodies on the stage filter backstage again. the look of pure joy on your face is cute. wait did he actually think that?

rockstar! sukuna who offers a grunt when you finally take the time to talk to the group, offering a thanks for coming and watching. who doesn’t miss the way you tilt your head and smirk at him before turning your attention to his bassist. he’d strangle the fucker if he tried anything.

rockstar! sukuna who follows behind the big group back to the dressing room for a drink because, let’s face it, it’s the least you could do to thank them for coming along even when they didn’t have to.

rockstar! sukuna who finds himself alone on a couch before you plopped yourself down, offering another drink before leaning back, talking away to yourself about something he couldn’t quite hear.

rockstar! sukuna who leaves an hour or so later with the rest of his band, not before he had your personal contact details and socials in his phone - after all, he might fancy a collab one day with you.

rockstar! sukuna who turns into fanboy! sukuna for a while when he gets home, hopelessly stalking your insta to get a glimpse into your life. who found himself smirking at the picture of you and your new puppy you’d posted a day before he met you, double tapping to lock in that like. of course, it would be from his own private and personal insta and only a few special people would have that account.

rockstar! sukuna who, one night, in his semi-drunk state, might have sent you a message detailing what he would do to you if he had you alone and you were his. not caring that he was being too out there, cause fuck that shit, life is for living right?

rockstar! sukuna who nearly drops his phone at the message you sent back to him, who knew you kinda enjoyed stranger danger? he was way in over his head but he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

rockstar! sukuna who attended quite a few more of your shows after that message, thanks to bagging backstage passes from you much to his delight, not that he cared to admit that. he did have a tough guy image to uphold after all.

rockstar! sukuna who spent more time talking to you via dms before moving to texts - after all, he was adamant that arranging a collab would be easier that way, not that he wanted a more personal way to talk to you.

rockstar! sukuna who starts adding lyrics that have to do with love and crushes into his future songs, much to the amusement of his bandmates and fans, some loved the subtle changes while others hated it.

rockstar! sukuna who ends up inviting you into the studio to talk ideas and start his band's next single with your help and vocals. he was sure it would be a hit, plus he wanted to spend more time with you outside of the bands. not that he would ever care to admit that to you.

rockstar! sukuna who suddenly feels like a teenager all over again when you get closer to him, lingering touches and looks making his heart thump in his chest - he was a performer yet this is what caused him to grow clammy?

rockstar! sukuna who ends up relaxing on the sofa in the room, you sat in his lap as you hummed out a tune, jotting it down. enjoying your weight on top of him, even if it wasn’t how he’d usually like it.

rockstar! sukuna who grows bored after a while and pulls his phone out, only for you to grab it and take a selfie with him, placing a kiss on his cheek as you capture the pure bewilderment on his face. just a little something to remind him of you when all of this ended.

rockstar! sukuna who starts to find new ways of hanging out with you, when not working on a track together - may have guilt-tripped you into letting him meet your puppy because who couldn’t resist his bad boy charm?

rockstar! sukuna who ended up becoming rockstar boyfriend! sukuna before too long, proudly showing you off to the world the night after you agreed to be his, when the new song debuted and you appeared on stage, taking your place beside him with a cheerful wave to the roaring crowd.

rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who pulls you into him in front of the sold-out arena, planting a wanting deep kiss onto your lips before pulling away, smirking at the dazed look before announcing that you were both together, and everyone better get used to it before the combined roar of the crowd and his band kicked up, the two of you performing the song you’d created together.

rockstar boyfriend! sukuna who now uses every opportunity to show you off to the world as the girlfriend of the man who didn’t want to be seen with anyone else - may or may not have went on quite a few photo dumps on his personal insta with photos of you both and what you were up to in between performing and recording.

let’s not talk about the other folder he has on his phone of pictures of you and the two of you together just yet yeah?

permanent tags;

@ani-net

© springismss 2025 - don’t repost, copy, translate, steal or modify.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

A Firm Partner

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Pairing: Lawyer Joel Miller x Female Reader Summary: Mr. Miller needs you to stay late... even if tomorrow is your birthday. Warnings: porn with very little plot, smut, unprotected p in v, office sex, couch sex, desk sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), joel has a filthy mouth, joel carries you and refuses to pull out while doing so, joel eats pussy from the back, probably the best way to ever wake up, law talk (but not a lot, this is an escape), no use of y/n Word Count: 3,400

A/N: Happy birthday dear @ohheypedrito! You are the absolute cornerstone of my Pedro obsession and nothing has been better than sharing in the delulu of him over the past couple of years. I can't believe we've known each other for 20+ years and all it took was Pedro Pascal to become so close. Sometimes I truly don't know how I'd be able to survive without our delulu yap sessions. Thank you for all that you do, and most importantly, being my friend. I wrote this while wearing my TTPD cardigan and listening to our shared delulu Joel Miller songs. 🪿 Thanks to @schnarfer and @mothandpidgeon for their input and always letting me talk about how much @ohheypedrito means to me lol. Please also enjoy the requested nose against clit and playful spank mentions gifted from @schnarfer.

Masterlist

—-

The conference room is full of your coworkers, engaged in hushed conversations with each other as you take your seat at the mahogany table. Joel Miller strides in, your eyes are instantly drawn to him as the room hushes, his mere presence commanding attention.

He settles into the high-backed leather chair at the head of the table, everyone and everything seems to shrink around his presence. Joel’s reputation precedes him, his firm is the most prestigious in Austin. You can hardly believe you landed a position here, fresh out of law school. But you’re here now, sitting mere feet away from the man himself. You admire his broad shoulders filling out his impeccably tailored suit, the dark green color of his shirt highlighting the golden glow of his skin and the deep chocolate brown of his eyes. 

“Good morning everyone,” his deep voice rumbles through the room as he begins to outline the case. You try to pay attention to him, try to focus on the case, but you can’t stop thinking about his plush lips. Would they taste of the strong coffee he’s drinking? How warm are they this morning? You’re mesmerized, watching the way his mouth forms each word, the slight Texas drawl rolling easily out. 

You’re interrupted from your reverie when you hear your last name and look up, your eyes meeting Joel’s. “You’re going to need to stay late with me tonight and get this taken care of.”

You nod, attempting to hide a sly smile as he continues on.

—-

The office fell silent hours ago, the last of your colleagues had long trickled out as the sun set. The only sounds now are distant noises from the city below and the clicking of your heels on the polished floor as you walk down the dark hallway to Joel's office.

You stop at the threshold, taking a quick moment to admire Joel. He’s sitting hunched over his desk, the light of his desk lamp casting him in a golden aura. His dark green shirt, usually crisp and buttoned to perfection, is now softened by the late hour. He’s undone the top few buttons, your eyes widen when you’re blessed with the glimpse of his neck and chest. His sleeves are rolled up, exposing his toned forearms dusted with dark hair. His long, thick fingers absently tap against the stack of papers in front of him. Sensing your presence, he looks up, his dark eyes finding yours in the dim light.

“Come here,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “I need you to take a look. Close the door.”

The door clicks as it softly shuts, now it’s just you and Joel Miller in his office filled with polished furniture and framed accomplishments. The heady scent of him overwhelms you—coffee and expensive woodsy cologne—as you move towards him. Joel’s intense gaze follows your every move as you stand next to him. His shirt pulls taut across his broad chest when he leans back, running a hand through his hair.

“These depositions,” he says, gesturing to the papers on his desk. “Something’s not adding up.”

You lean in, acutely aware of how close he is as you scan the documents. You can feel the warmth radiating off his body as you reach for a page. He watches as you read through it, your eyes scanning through the typical legal jargon.

"What do you make of this discrepancy?"

"I think… we need to look closer at the witness statements,” you lay the paper down, searching for another file.

“I think you’re right,” he murmurs as he leans in to examine the paper.

“We should compare these statements side by side.”

“Mm, good idea. There’s more room on the couch.”

You nod, goosebumps prickling across your skin as you walk over and settle amongst the cool, leather cushions.

He sits next to you, impossibly close, you’re acutely aware of every point where your bodies almost touch. Joel leans back, the leather creaking slightly, as he casually drapes an arm along the back of the couch, just inches from your shoulders.

You try to focus on the papers in your lap, but you find it too daunting as he leans even farther in.

“What do you think?”

You turn your head slightly, your lips now mere inches away from his. Intense and unreadable dark brown eyes stare into yours. You can hear the ticking of the clock sitting on his desk and yet time stands still.

“I think…" your voice barely above a whisper. “We need to look closer.”

Your mind races, you can hardly keep any semblance of composure as he shifts slightly, his thigh now pressing against yours. The heat of his body seeps through the thin fabric of your skirt.

“Closer, huh?” he drawls.

You nod. Joel's eyes flicking down to your lips, then back up to meet your gaze.

“Mr. Miller,” you whisper.

“Baby, you know you can call me Joel.”

“Joel…”

The papers on your lap flutter to the floor as he closes the remaining distance between you. His lips are warm, soft, and familiar, reminding you of the last time you kissed him–yesterday morning when he backed you up into the supply room, whispering against your skin how much he missed you. 

A soft whimper leaves your lips as your mouth opens, allowing his tongue to taste yours. A trail of fire is left on your skin when his hand slides up your thigh, bunching your skirt as he goes. He knows how to touch you and how to make you moan… Joel Miller knows you.

Charting a path, his lips move to your neck, nibbling and sucking at the sensitive spot he knows you love to be kissed at.

You’re whimpering, already writhing against the smooth, cool leather of the couch. All day you’ve tried to focus on work, tried to figure out the case in front of you, but your mind was consumed by thoughts of Joel’s body pressed against yours again. It’s been almost six months of sneaking around, of heated glances across conference rooms, of always feeling his eyes on you while you’re in the office. Six months of pretending you're just another associate, when really you're the one who knows exactly how Joel Miller likes to be touched.

“Been thinkin’ about you all day darlin’,” he drawls. “Been waitin’ for you.”

Thick fingers find the apex of your thighs, already slick with need. He clutches your thighs, parting your legs as his palm grazes along your silky skin there. He smirks, a devilish look, when he feels just how wet you are for him.

His lips find yours again, kissing you deeply, like he really has been waiting for you.

You’re squirming, aching for more, and when he slides a hand higher, skimming the edge of your damp underwear, you sigh his name. “Joel…”

“Love it when you say my name baby,” he growls, pressing his finger against the soaked fabric. “Can feel how much you want me.”

His fingers slip beneath the elastic, finding your slick, swollen flesh. A long moan escapes you as he parts your folds, stroking your needy pussy. Your hands fist in his dark green shirt, holding on as he his thumb circles your clit. His touches are confident and purposeful, working you over like you’re a case.

Open-mouthed kisses are trailed along your jaw and down your neck, nipping at your racing pulse before soothing it with his tongue.

“You’re so wet f’me, aren’t you?”

You moan an affirmative noise as he leaves one last, chaste kiss against your lips before he moves to settle on the floor between your parted legs, his hands gripping your hips tugging you to the edge of the leather couch.

He slowly drags your panties down your legs, throwing them behind him before bunching your skirt up around your waist. He spreads your legs wider, his brown eyes darkening as he takes in the sight of your pussy dripping for him.

“Look at you, baby, so beautiful. Been thinkin’ about tastin’ this pussy all damn day.”

His dark eyes meet yours before he dips his head, the tip of his nose sweetly bumping against your clit as his tongue licks against your aching cunt. Your fingers thread through his thick hair, holding him close as he laps up the taste of you.

The way his tongue slides along your slick folds, teasing and probing before plunging inside has you arching off the couch with a gasp. You feel his warm breath against your skin as he sighs contentedly, his mouth working tirelessly to taste you.

"Oh god, Joel…" you cry, fisting your hands in his thick, dark hair.

He hums against you, the vibrations making you shudder. He holds you in place as he alternates between long, slow licks and quick flicks of his tongue against your clit, keeping you right on the edge.

When he slides two thick fingers inside your slick heat, you nearly come undone. He pumps them in and out, slowly, so achingly slow.

"Joel..." you whimper, fisting your hands in the dark waves of his hair.

"You taste like heaven, baby," he rasps. "Could spend all night right here, worshippin' this perfect little pussy."

The tension inside you winds tighter and tighter, your thighs starting to tremble on either side of his head. You're right there, chasing that peak you’ve been waiting to climb all day.

"That's it, baby," he rasps against your flesh. "Cum for me.”

His gruff words are your undoing. With a sharp cry, you shatter, your walls clenching around his fingers as your orgasm rolls through you. He works you through it, not letting up until you're spent, chest heaving and panting.

Your limbs are loose as you float back down to earth in the middle of Joel Miller’s office, he places a soft kiss against your core before crawling back up your body.

“You taste so fuckin’ good, darlin’,” he growls before kissing you. You moan, licking the taste of yourself from his lips and tongue. Your hands slip under his shirt, feeling the plush of his belly before the hard planes of his chest.

Joel pulls back, his dark eyes boring into yours with intensity. He grips the fabric of his shirt and with one swift motion, tears it open. Buttons scatter across the room, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. You smile and take in the sight of his broad, golden chest.

You fumble with the smooth fabric of your blouse as you quickly remove it, revealing your light blue lace bra. He growls, fixated on the swell of your breasts rising and falling with each breath you take.

His large hands run up and down your stomach as you reach behind and unclasp your bra, letting it fall away.

“Perfect,” he breathes before dipping his head to take a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud, teeth grazing lightly. His hand comes up to palm your other breast, kneading the soft flesh.

You're writhing beneath him, cunt aching with need as he sucks and nips at your breasts. “Please Joel,” you whimper.

He releases your nipple with a wet pop, a devilish grin on his face. "Please what, darlin'? Tell me what you need."

"I need you.”

With a groan, he pulls back, undoing his belt and zipper, shoving his pants and boxers down, his hard cock springs free, his thick shaft hard and ready to fuck you. Veins trace along the length of him, pulsing with need.

You lick your lips unconsciously, wanting to taste the bead of precum glistening in the dim office light. Your hands reach out, feeling the nest of dark curls at his base as you give him one, long and tight pump. His hand covers yours, and with an agonizing slowness, you both stroke him, spreading the slick precum along his cock.

“Fuck me Mr. Miller.”

He groans, his hips bucking slightly before hooking his arms under your knees, lifting your legs up and apart, spreading you wide open as he notches himself at your entrance.

One, smooth thrust in and he’s sheathed fully inside your wet heat.

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good," he grunts, his thick cock spearing you as your hands roam over the flexing muscles of his back, your nails digging into his skin as he fucks you into the leather couch.

He pauses, his dark brown eyes locked on yours in the dim light of his office. You feel deliciously full, stretched around him.

"You take me so well, darlin',” he rasps, punctuating each word with a roll of his hips.

The leather couch creaks beneath you, his hands clamp down on your hips, yanking you against him as he pounds into your wet pussy. His breath is hot against your neck, as he sucks against the delicate skin there, fucking you senseless.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you up against his broad chest. You gasp at the sudden change, when he lifts you off the couch, his cock still buried deep inside you.

"Hold on tight, baby.”

You oblige, wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. Your breasts press firmly against his chest, nipples dragging against the coarse hair of him there. He walks you across his office over to the desk, his thick cock shifting inside you with each step. You exhale a breathy giggle when his palm makes contact with your ass, leaving a sweet sting against your flesh.

“Fuck darlin’, you feel so good wrapped around me like this.” 

His thighs flex with each thrust as he pounds you relentlessly. He growls your name, fucking into you, his legs set wide as he stands. Your head falls back, exposing your throat to his hungry mouth. He latches on, sucking and nipping, grunting against your skin. 

With one swift motion, he sweeps everything off his desk, scattering papers and pens to the floor before placing you on the edge of the desk. A small whimper leaves your lips when he pulls out, your pussy already missing the stretch of his cock. You’re pathetic for his cock, trembling with need, your legs spread wide. He steps back and looks you up and down, the edge of his mouth lifted in a cocky grin as he admires your wide eyes and heaving chest. 

“Turn around and bend over for me darlin’.”

You comply, sliding off the desk and turning around, spreading your legs wide, presenting your ass and cunt to him. 

“Mm,” Joel breathes appreciatively before you feel him kneel behind you. 

He pulls you back slightly, your pussy meeting his warm breath ghosting over your skin, a shiver of anticipation rolls through you when you feel the tickle of his beard on the backs of your thighs as he nuzzles against you. 

“Goddamn, you look good enough to eat.”

Your fingers scrabble for purchase on the smooth desk surface at the first swipe of his tongue against you. A long, low hum vibrates against your cunt as he delves deeper, his tongue worshipping every fold and crevice of your pussy. His nose bumps against your ass he buries his face between your legs, the wet sounds of his mouth working you over fills the office. 

You whine, your hips rocking back against his face, squirming all over his eager mouth. He sucks your clit into his mouth, his tongue swirling in relentless circles. Your legs begin trembling, barely able to hold you up. He chuckles lowly, before leaving one last kiss against your pussy. 

He rises behind you, his hands sliding up your back to grip your shoulders, his cock hard and lightly tapping against your ass.

“Easy now,” he grits, his voice rough and low. Your hips sway at the anticipation of feeling the length of him pulsing inside you again. 

The broad head of his cock teases your entrance before he pushes into you, stretching you wide. He leans over you slightly, one hand moving up to press between your shoulder blades while the other clutches the edge of the desk for balance. His skin meeting your skin echoes through the room blending with your heavy breathing. 

Your eyes flutter open, catching sight of the reflection in the window. Joel–his jaw clenched tight, brows furrowed together creasing his forehead, deep brown eyes watching his cock fuck your accepting pussy is backlit by the city lights twinkling outside. His power is on full display for only you and the secret you two keep. 

He pulls almost all the way out, swirling his length around your entrance, before sinking back in, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he anchors himself. Your fingers claw at the desk, searching for something to hold onto as his cock pistons into you. 

“Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me, can feel you gettin’ ready. Need to see your pretty face when you cum f’me.” 

He grabs your waist, turning you over with ease. He hovers above you, his broad frame caging you in, pressing your back against the smooth surface.

"Gonna fuck you so hard, baby," he promises. "Gonna make you feel it for days. You deserve it, don’t ya’?"

Wide eyed, and staring at him, you nod.

He sinks back into you with one deep thrust, bottoming out inside your slick heat, your head rolling back as he fills you completely.

"That's it darlin'," he rasps, his hips snapping against yours. "Take me so well."

Your legs wrap around his waist, drawing him closer, deeper. His thick cock drags along your walls with each thrust, his finger finds your clit, circling it in time with his thrusts. Your head falls back against the desk, a high keen escaping your lips.

"Look at me," he commands gruffly. "I want to see those pretty eyes when you cum for me.”

You force your heavy lids open, meeting his intense dark gaze. His brow is furrowed in concentration, a light sheen of sweat on his golden skin.

The pressure builds inside you with each stroke of his thick cock, every swipe of his finger against your clit. Your entire body feels like a livewire, every nerve ending alight within you.

"That's it, baby. You're so close, I can feel it. Your sweet little pussy's grippin' me so tight."

You’re teetering on the edge, ready to tumble over. Joel fucks you more erratically, his breathing labored. You know he’s cresting on the edge, right next to you. 

The tension inside you snaps. Your back arches off the desk as your orgasm bursts through you. Your walls clenching Joel's cock as you cry out his name, your vision going white at the edges. 

"Fuck, you're so perfect," he grunts. "Feel so good cumming on my cock."

A guttural groan tears from his throat as he stills, spilling deep inside you.

You cling to each other as you float down from the high, pulses gradually slowing. He places tender kisses along your jaw before claiming your lips in a slow, deep kiss.

"Should we get back to work?" you ask against his lips, a sated smile playing at the corners of your mouth.

He chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest pressed to yours. "I think we're done for tonight, sweetheart. Let me take you home, want to wake up next to you on your birthday." 

—

Your body feels heavy and relaxed with sleep, but there's a warmth building between your thighs. Slowly drifting into consciousness, you become aware of the source - Joel’s tongue lapping at the sensitive skin between your legs.

You let out a soft moan, your fingers instinctively carding through the thick tendrils of his hair. His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as he devours your pussy.

Blinking away the last signs of sleep, you prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at him. His dark eyes twinkle with golden flecks lit by the soft early morning light filtering through the curtain when they meet yours.

He pulls back slightly, his plush lips and beard shiny from your slick. A roguish grin spreads across his face as he gives you a wink.

“Happy birthday, darlin’,” he drawls before diving back in between your legs. 

—-

🪿