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#i’m being sent away guys
violetharmonsrose · 6 months
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i’m being gang stalked by the CIA, they put a chip in my brain
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silkjade-archived · 26 days
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i haven’t been here much recently, and i’m sorry i’ve only been negative on the off chance i’ve been online, but let me just say one last piece before the end of this month, so that maybe the next might be better….
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#or ​maybe my time here ends w this month…i’m not sure i guess it all depends on how i feel but as of right now#everytime i think i'm fine i open tumblr and immediately am sad again the whole app has become my doomscroll at this point#i got a notification on a random talking post from a while ago and it felt like reading the words of a completely different person#lately i find it difficult to find any joy here at all when it always feels so lonely… a type of loneliness i’ve never experienced before#everyone always has ppl interacting w them who are interested in their stuff or are always sent things that are reminiscent of them....#i’m always praised for remembering stuff abt other ppl but i wonder if anyone remembers anything abt me#what is it about me that is so forgettable am i dull am i uninteresting did i not solidify myself enough do you guys just not like me lolz#but i don't want this to come across as guilt tripping or being ungrateful to what i do have because ik comparison is the death of joy but#it's still hard to watch when it's so in your face and it makes me think if ppl only talk to me because they feel obligated to#because anyone can say empty words.... i wish my perception of things didn't turn bitter i wish i hadn't become so jaded but#over and over i've felt irrelevant cast aside overshadowed and i cannot exist in a place where i feel like i'm a ghost in the corner#idk i've never felt like This before and i'm at least glad it's something i can walk away from by just....leaving...#sad that this used to be somewhere i can run away To but now it's become somewhere i want to run away From#i don't know...even if i get over whatever this is...things will never be the same for me... i just don't think i belong here#if only i had never made this blog then i would have saved myself a world of turmoil
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takeyourcyanide · 4 hours
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I cannot take one more loud bang and her acting bitchy and huffing over everything quick to anger it’s time to decide cyanide mechanical hands are ticking and succumbing to wear and tear
edit: “you can walk past me don’t be ridiculous” act rudely one more time and see where that gets you I don’t tolerate disrespect you know this
She’s beginning to act very forcefully
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butchsaint · 7 months
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can i say something controversial. i’m waiting for the year that y’all give kylo ren another chance. after his legions of weird fans die out, and people remember “those bad star wars movies” and want to give them a rewatch. i see a revival
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cupiare · 11 days
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bless my agency consultant for emailing me on a sunday night he’s been a trooper and i make sure to remind him every time we talk that i appreciate his support but Damn. fr now is good feedback just synonymous with ‘we don’t need you’ or what. whats the wordplay i’m missing here
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luvsupa · 2 months
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a/n two posts in one day… ruh roh… (I miss gojo </3)
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ex!satoru who doesn’t really understand the concept of being an ex. he just thinks you want a break from him. but permanently separated? hell no, he could never understand that.
“‘toru… things aren’t gonna work out between us,” you begin as he sits in front of you at your dinner table in your shared apartment. he looks at you with no emotion, as if you didn’t just end things. “we’re growing in separate ways, and i feel i would only—satoru.”
you could scream at him—he’s not paying attention, scrolling on his phone instead. he shows you the order he placed for dinner, coming in twenty minutes. of course, he bought your favorite.
“satoru, can you please be serious for one minute?” you huff, clearly annoyed that he’s not listening while he’s purchasing things he knows will make you swoon.
“i am serious,” he says, placing his phone down to observe your breathtaking features.
“you weren’t even listening,” you say, crossing your arms as you slouch in the seat.
“baby, of course i’m listening—you’re crazy if you think i’m leaving you,” he coos condescendingly, and you roll your eyes.
ex!satoru who, in fact, respected your decision and gave you your personal space, not exactly broken up in his eyes, just a temporary break.
ex!satoru who stays over at suguru’s place for a few months, whining every day and night about how he missed being in your arms.
“i miss her,” gojo says as he pets geto’s cat, miyu, while geto himself groans as he cleans his apartment.
“can you at least help out and stop whining like a bitch,” geto says, adjusting the pillows neatly on his couch. this only causes gojo to frown and embrace miyu in a tight hug, nuzzling his face in her soft fur as she tries to get away from his grasp.
“and let go of miyu, she doesn’t want you holding her.”
ex!satoru who continues to send you money, always sending you hundreds and hundreds of dollars for food, shopping, and especially paying for your necessities. he doesn’t care that you work for yourself—you’re still his baby, and he loves spoiling you. his money is your money.
unknown number sent $500! —go get some food, baby~ ♡
unknown number sent $600! —please unblock me on insta
unknown number sent $300! —i love u, mama
ex!satoru who chokes on his breakfast when shoko says you’re going on a date. gojo, never in his life, was speechless, and that really creeped out shoko and geto.
“satoru… are you good?” geto asks concernedly—even miyu jumps on gojo’s lap, sensing a difference in his character.
“yeah, i’m good…” he says calmly, placing down his utensils to pet miyu’s soft fur.
ex!satoru who does a little investigating of who this mysterious man is, finding his identity within ten minutes. he scoffs when he finds his social media—he’s nowhere near as handsome as he is. what do you see in him?
ex!satoru who sits comfortably in the luxurious restaurant where you and the mysterious man planned to go. little did you know, gojo texted the man, telling him that you’re married.
“aiko?” gojo hears a soft voice call as he turns to look at you. your eyes widen when you see gojo. this has to be some kind of joke—he is fucking crazy. you turn around, going back to the entrance, but gojo grabs your wrist.
“no, no, no, baby, please let me talk,” he pleads, and you fold from the way he calls you baby. oh, how you loved and missed the way he called you baby and claimed you as his own.
he guides you to the chair in front of him as he holds your hand, your pretty acrylics grazing his hands. he loved the way you looked well put together, his baby doll.
“my love, i promise to leave you,” he says, rubbing small circles on your hand. your heart pangs at his confession. “i just want to know how you’re doing.”
“i-i miss you so much,” you say. gojo feels like he’s hallucinating at what you just said. “shoko told me you were having a date today, and i felt so jealous—” you stammer, and gojo blinks multiple times, stunned at what you’re saying.
“this guy aiko asked me on a date, and i wanted to make you jealous,” you continue, frowning at being confused with your emotions. but gojo, on the other hand, is putting two and two together.
“give me your phone,” he sternly says. you stare at him in confusion, but you oblige, taking out your phone from your purse and handing it to him. gojo smiles as your lockscreen is still a baby photo of him. he unlocks your phone—the password still the same, his birthday.
“i was meaning to change the lockscreen,” you quickly state, not trying to look like a weirdo in front of him.
gojo goes into your contacts and clicks aiko’s contact information, calling the number. multiple rings go by, and the man on the other line picks up.
“hello—”
“shoko, i know this is you.”
you look at him and your phone in horror. shoko set you guys up by making a fake number to make you go on a date with ‘aiko’ but really you’d be with gojo.
“ahh, did my plan work? both of you kept whining about each other—it was infuriating. i had to do something,” she says on the other line, gojo clearly hearing geto’s giggles in the background.
“don’t ever do this again,” gojo says as he hangs up the phone. the two of you burst out in laughter, but for you, it’s more embarrassing that you were flirting with shoko through texts!
fiancé!satoru who proposed to you a few weeks later, he’s beyond happy to be in the arms of his baby again <3
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happy74827 · 2 months
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Feels Like Home
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[Logan Howlett x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: You decide to take it upon yourself to become best friends with Wade’s new grumpy addition to the family (much to Logan’s dismay).
WC: 2453
Category: Fluff, Sunshine!Reader x Grumpy!Logan trope {TW: Bar Fight, Handsy Drunk Dude, Mentions of Blood + Bruising}.
[Dedicated to: @iluvloganhowlett] I finished it for you!! (I’m shocked at the speed too don’t worry 💀). Hopefully this fluffiness will help add onto the low supply out there.
And incase anyone hasn’t seen it yet: DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT
『••✎••』
You’ve always had a keen eye when it came to others. It’s mostly why you and Wade get along so well; you’re the one person who can see straight through him. And while it means you are very close, it also meant that you can easily tell when something is going on with someone you don't know that well, like the tall, brooding man named Logan, who had just joined the club of misfits.
You could tell by the way he carried himself that he had been through hell and back. He was quiet, grumpy, and had a tendency to snap at Wade, which, most of the time, was a well-deserved snapping.
You could also tell that there was more to him. He wasn't just a grumpy guy; there was something about him that made you want to be his friend. Maybe it was the sadness in his eyes, or maybe it was how lonely he looked.
Either way, you knew he was in need of a good friend, and you wanted to be that friend. Not a pestering one like Wade, but the kind of friend that just makes you feel a bit better.
So, when you spotted him, downing glass after glass of whiskey for the third day in a row, you just knew you had to help.
And he hated it. Oh, man, he absolutely hated it. You were such a happy ray of sunshine, always smiling, always laughing. He found it so fucking annoying. He couldn't deal with you and your constant positivity. It was like you were the PG-13 version of the breathing ballsack next to you.
But you wouldn't give up. Every time you saw him, you would try to cheer him up by making silly jokes, giving him small gifts, or even just sending him encouraging smiles.
He didn't want any of it, but it seemed you were too stubborn to listen. Every small note you’d given him was left crinkled in the trash; every gift was placed away without ever being touched. Your smile never got a response.
That is, until one day, as you walked by him, he mumbled something that almost made you trip over.
"Thanks."
You stopped in your tracks and turned around to face him, a look of disbelief on your face. You had tried so hard to cheer him up for the past few weeks, and this was the only thing you got from him? You couldn't believe it.
You had spent so much time and effort trying to make him feel better, and this was all he could say to you?
You wanted to hug him. To scream to the skies and celebrate that he finally accepted your kindness.
You held the restraint to do so, though. You didn’t want to cause him to close off again, and so instead, you sent him a soft smile, and a small nod, before you resumed walking (running) to your friends.
The next day, however, you were met with the biggest surprise of your life.
Logan was sitting at the bar, drinking. He didn't look too different, still dressed in his trademark blue jeans and flannel shirt, but his face was still holding that sadness you had grown used to seeing on him.
You walked over to him and sat down beside him, that classic smile of yours plastered on your face.
"Hi!"
He groaned. "You're not going to leave me alone, are you?"
"Nope!" You replied cheerfully, popping the 'p.'
He grumbled under his breath and downed the last of his drink, signaling to the bartender for another.
"Come on, Wolvie," you said, nudging his shoulder. "Lighten up. Life's not that bad, is it?"
He turned to glare at you, his dark brown eyes piercing into yours. "It's Logan," he said, his voice a low growl.
You shrugged and leaned closer to him, propping your elbow on the counter. This was the usual part—the part where he would give vocal responses while you carried on your one-sided conversation with him.
The difference this time, the surprise of it all, was when a person approached the both of you. Mind you, a very drunk person.
"Heyyyyy, baby girl," he slurred, his hand landing on your shoulder.
You turned to him, and he was looking you up and down with that gaze you knew had only one intention. You still smiled, though, and politely moved his hand off your shoulder.
"Uh, hi?" You answered unsurely.
He slammed his elbow on the counter, his palm on his fist. "You are gorgeous," he commented, and you had to hold back the laughter that was bubbling in your throat.
"Thank you," you chuckled.
Logan scoffed, rolling his eyes, but you paid him no mind. Usual behavior from him, nothing new.
"No, really," the stranger continued, moving his arm around your shoulders, "I think you're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."
"Well, I'm glad you think so," you answered, still chuckling. "But, I think you're a little drunk."
"Drunk on love," he responded, "Say, wanna get out of here? I'll show you a real good time."
Here comes the awkward part, you thought.
You shook your head, and removed his arm from around your shoulders. "Thank you for… uh, the kind offer," you answered, "But, no, thank you."
You expected him to shrug it off and leave or to just be a dick, as many drunken guys are. But no, this guy did not know how to take a hint.
Instead, he tightened his grip around you and pulled you closer to him, his free hand moving down your waist. "Come on, baby," he said, his words slurring. "You know you want to."
You sighed. You were really hoping it wouldn't have to come to this.
You were about to speak, to politely, yet firmly, tell him to leave you alone, but before you could open your mouth, a gruff voice beat you to it.
"She said no,"
He didn’t even look at the man or you. His eyes were still fixated on the counter as if he was talking to his glass, but he had turned his head a bit to the side so that you could hear him clearly.
The drunk stranger was startled by the sudden intervention. He let go of you and looked over at Logan, confusion clear in his face.
"Who the hell are you?" he asked, his brows furrowed.
"Does it matter?" Logan grumbled.
"Yeah, it does," the stranger retorted, his slurring voice suddenly getting serious. "If I'm gonna be having fun, I don't want an audience."
Oh, how you hated confrontations.
Logan just scoffed with a slight hint of a smile, shaking his head as he still refused to turn around.
"Trust me, pal," he replied, "I ain't interested in watching you do anything."
"Good." He went back to his obnoxious grin, now directing his attention back to you. Oh, man, he was an eyesore.
"So, how about it, beautiful? Wanna head somewhere else?" He slurred.
You were about to reply, again, with a polite rejection, but your shoulder was being grabbed at again, and if it wasn’t for the small training session that Colossus had put you through, you were sure you would have lost your footing.
"Can you let go of me, please?" You asked politely, but the man was a brick wall.
"Nah, sweetheart," he shook his head, and the movement was so intense, you could almost hear the alcohol sloshing around in his head, "You're comin' with me. Trust me, you’ll be perfectly taken care of."
That was when the sound of glass slamming against the counter reached your ears, and you didn't have to see the source of the sound to know it was Mr. Grumps.
What you struggled for what seemed like an eternity, he took that needy arm away from your shoulders within a fraction of a second. It was almost shocking how quick he was, but then again, you knew what he was capable of.
With you safe against the counter, Logan turned to face the stranger, his face still showing that same neutral expression as before, though his eyes held an intensity that made the man flinch.
Normal people would believe he had the patience of a saint. But you weren’t a normal person. You knew this was dangerously close to making him lose it.
"Uh, Logan… maybe we should—"
But your words fell on deaf ears. The only thing that Logan could hear was the weak excuses the guy was trying to give as he tried to pull his hand from the tight grasp Logan had it in.
"Hey, man," he stuttered, his words slurring as the panic set in, "What’s your problem? Let go of me!
But Logan had no intentions of doing so. He held the stranger's arm firmly, his grip growing tighter until he could hear a small crack coming from the guy's bones.
"What's your damage, huh?" the guy continued, trying his best to keep his voice from breaking. "It's just a little fun, right, baby?"
You cringed as his eyes fell back onto you, and the pleading tone of his voice was beginning to make your skin crawl.
"Look, uh," you started, looking anywhere but his eyes, "I don't think—"
"Listen," the man continued, and your eyes fell shut. God, he was just not going to stop. "Maybe you can join us? Huh, big boy? That’s what it is, right? You want her all for yourself?"
Uh, oh.
"Logan, don’t—"
It was too late. He had already snapped, and with a grunt, he pulled the man closer to him, his other hand forming a fist around his shirt.
"Wanna say that again?" He growled. "Do it. I dare you."
The man was trembling in his grasp, but he was clearly too drunk to understand the danger he was in.
"Oh, I'm sorry, are you her boyfriend?" He taunted, and the fact that he had the guts to do so while his hand was in a painful hold was astonishing, even for you. "Or are you just some guy with a crush? Cause, honestly, it's pretty pathetic. You can't even ask her out."
His words had Logan seeing red, and before you could do anything, the guy was pushed away and was about to be on the receiving end of one of the strongest punches you've ever seen.
So, riskily, to protect yourself and him from being thrown out of his favorite place, you jumped off the stool and slid in between them as he launched his punch, just stopping inches away from your face.
"Please," you said, your palms up and in front of you, as if that would do anything to stop the rage he was feeling, "Please, calm down."
"Calm down?" He repeated, his voice rising. "Are you kidding me?"
"You need to let it go," you told him. "He's drunk, Logan. He doesn't know what he's saying."
"And, what," he retorted, his anger slowly fading away, "Does it look like I give a single fuck about that?"
You sighed, your eyes meeting his, and that was enough for him to finally give in. His clenched fist dropped, and he released a frustrated sigh.
The dude behind you started laughing, his voice sounding as if he was trying to make fun of a fight scene.
"So," he chuckled, "That's it, huh? You're not gonna do shit? You’re just as pathetic as a—"
He gently moved you aside, and in an instant, the man was lying on the floor with a bloody nose, a black eye, and a few broken ribs.
You could only hold your head in your hands, knowing very well the mess you were about to have to deal with.
And it didn't take long.
As soon as Logan stepped away from the drunk idiot, security was on him, grabbing his arms and restraining him. He couldn’t care less, though, as he held a sadistic grin on his face, pleased with his work while being escorted out.
And, so, there, the two of you were on the steps of the apartment building. You, holding your hands in your lap, and he, staring up at the night sky.
The air was warm, the city lights were dim, and the sky was covered in clouds. There was an odd silence between the two of you, which wasn’t really all that odd, but the events of the night had changed the atmosphere.
"Thanks," you spoke, breaking the quiet. "For, you know, standing up for me."
"He was a douche," he stated, his voice gruff. "Someone had to send that fucktart crying home to mommy."
"You shouldn’t have done that, though," you told him. "Now, you’re probably banned from the bar. I know it's your favorite."
"Eh," he shrugged, "Booze is booze. There are plenty more places to get drunk."
You didn't respond. Instead, you focused your attention on the small bugs flying around the dim light next to the door.
"You shouldn't be thanking me, anyway," he continued, turning to you. That was new. "I should be the one thanking you."
You looked at him, your brows furrowed. This whole conversation was getting weird. "Uh, what for?" You asked, confused.
"For putting up with me," he replied, shrugging.
"Putting up with you?" You repeated, not understanding. "I don't understand."
"Y'know," he continued, his gruff voice a little less gruff. "Sticking around. Being friendly. Having… patience. I can be…I can be a real dick. Honestly, I still don't get why you keep trying."
The smile that found its way to your lips waa the most genuine one he's ever seen. Your eyes were full of kindness and understanding, and your lips, which usually held a grin or a smirk, were turned upwards in a soft, gentle smile.
"Logan," you said, your voice low. "You may be a grump, and you might not be the friendliest guy, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve kindness. Everyone deserves that… or at least a little bit of it."
He scoffed. "That's funny," he replied, turning his head away.
You furrowed your brows and cocked your head, confused. "What is?" You asked.
"I used to think," he began, "That no one would ever look at me in the way you do. Not after what I’ve done… not after what I am."
"You're a good man, Logan," you told him. "You proved who you were when you willingly helped Wade."
"Maybe," he sighed, his gaze meeting yours. "But, there's still a lot you don't know about me. I'm not exactly a knight in shining armor."
"Oh, my dear, Wolvie," you said playfully, leaning closer to him and placing your palm on his shoulder, "You never were."
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imaginedisish · 2 months
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I'm Not In Love (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)
A/N: Okay, so this if my first fic in over a year, and it's also my first Wolverine fic...so please be kind. I'm just getting back into the groove. Expect it to possibly be a little rough. This is big time inspired by "I'm Not In Love" by 10cc. This fic is also thanks to a request I got from an anonymous user! Thanks for the idea, anon! Hope it's okay! Enjoy guys.
Summary: After harboring a crush on Logan for months, things finally come to a head while on an overnight mission.
Warnings: SMUT. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. There's like no plot here just smut, Unprotected PIV sex (wrap it up), Oral (f!receiving), AFAB reader, Sizekink!(this was a specific size kink request, and so the reader is therefore described as being smaller than Logan/his shirt being big on her), cursing, praise kink, OOC!Logan (just putting this out there because I haven't seen the X-Men movies/read X-Men comics in forever and I'm probably giving him terms he doesn't use/having him act in ways he might not typically), feelings, cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, one bed muahaha, probably grammar errors, think that's it?
Word Count: 3,162 I got carried away
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He was driving you absolutely crazy. Logan. Logan fucking Howlett, with his cocksure attitude and self-satisfied smile. Maybe it’s the way he thinks he’s always right. Maybe it’s that stupid stubbornness, that prowl he does when he walks across a room to meet you. To mock you. His whole being towering over you—his musky, pine-scented cologne filling your lungs. He’s everywhere—and not just metaphorically—literally and physically. His giant frame shadows yours, and you can’t help but admit that there’s something about it…something about him. 
You want him. Bad. And although you won’t admit it, you’ve wanted him for months. And so, as of lately, he’s not so much a nuisance as much as he’s a distraction. 
You just had to be sent on this mission with Logan—this ridiculous two-day stake-out that you could have done on your own. You’re certainly strong enough; your telekinetic powers and regenerative abilities are enough to handle any situation. And yet, here you are, walking up to a motel with Logan fucking Howlett. 
His frame practically consumes yours as he stands behind you on the sidewalk. You swear you can feel the ghost of his fingertips against your waist, impatient and ready to guide you forward. You silently wish he would—wish he would grab your hips and take you down that alleyway and—
“You okay, darlin’?” His voice is gruff against the shell of your ear. “You seem awfully distracted.”
You swallow your embarrassment and hope he won’t pick up on how fast your heart is beating. “I’m fine, just tired,” you mutter, lying straight through your teeth. You can feel his smirk against the side of your head. He has to know what he’s doing. He has to know how much you want him. 
He chuckles and his chest vibrates against your back. “Too tired for the mission, bub? We’re almost at the motel, don’t worry.” The condescension in his voice is palpable. He knows exactly how to get under your skin. You’re putty in his hands. 
He steps out from behind you, and before you can mourn the loss of the contact, he grabs your hand and leads the way through the doors of the motel. “This okay?” He whispers in your ear, his massive hand giving your smaller one a squeeze. All you can manage is a nod as you approach the front desk. You know it’s just to support your cover—you and Logan are posing as a married couple—but you can’t help but hope it means more. You need it to mean more. 
God, you are so fucked. 
You’re so distracted thinking about how close Logan is to you that you almost miss the moment when the worker at the front desk says the only room left has just one bed. 
You crane your head to look up at Logan, who you find is already looking down at you. 
“That’s perfect,” he says, his eyes still on you. His stare doesn’t budge as the man behind the front desk slides the key towards the two of you. Logan grabs the keys and finally breaks the moment. His hand is still holding yours as he navigates the two of you toward your motel room. 
The room is…small. There’s one queen bed in the center, a bathroom on the other side of the room, and an old box television resting on an even older-looking oak dresser. On the bright side, the place appears to be clean. 
“I should freshen up,” you say, taking off your shoes. Your hand slips out of Logan’s as you pad over to the bathroom with your bag. 
The bathroom isn’t horrible either. Dated, but clean. You brush your teeth and wash your face before undressing and searching for your pajamas in your bag—which, naturally, you forgot to pack. 
“Ah fuck,” You mutter louder than you meant to. 
You hear Logan stirring in the other room, his footsteps quickly approaching the door. “You okay?” You can sense the concern in his voice, and you can’t help but smile. 
“Yeah, just forgot to pack something to wear to bed.” There’s more shuffling on the other side of the door. You hear Logan’s bag zip. 
“You want my shirt?” He asks, standing just outside the door now. 
“I’d feel bad, then you—” Your protests are ignored as he opens the door just enough to toss his Calgary Flames t-shirt onto the bathroom sink, closing it tightly once the shirt lands. You smirk as you walk over to the shirt and put it on. The hem lands at the middle of your thighs. Logan really is massive, you think to yourself. 
You take a deep breath, slowly twist the knob of the bathroom door, and head outside. Logan is lounging on the chair next to the dresser, his eyes on you as you place your bag down on the floor at the foot of the bed. 
“Th-thanks for the…” You stutter, trailing off as you nod down to the shirt. 
Logan smirks as he pushes himself out of the chair and makes his way toward you. You think you see him take you in, look you up and down, but that can’t possibly be.
He shakes his head as he stops at your side. You swear you hear him mutter a low fuck under his breath. “You look good.” But he doesn’t stop for long. He pushes forward and into the bathroom. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” he mumbles as he shuts the door behind him. 
“Let’s just share the bed,” you shout back, unsure of where the confidence to say that came from. But there’s no response, just the running of water from the sink. 
You sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for what feels like forever, but Logan doesn’t take long at all. After a few minutes, you hear the sink shut off and the door creek open. 
You shake your head as you stand from the bed to face him. “By the way, you’re not sleeping on the floor, don’t be ridic—” You’re too stunned to say another word. You’ve seen Logan shirtless before, sure, but not like this. Not in just his boxers. Not in a room with him, alone, for an entire night. You need to relax, to calm down, but there’s nowhere else to go, and nothing else to look at. You know he can your heart beating out of your chest now. 
 He steps toward you, engulfing you with his presence. You stare up at him. “Am I really that scary?” He closes the distance between the two of you. 
You try to play dumb. “W-what are you talking about?”
“Every time I get close to you, that little heart of yours practically explodes.”
You swallow roughly. “I d-don’t know what you’re talking about, Logan.” But your shaky voice gives it away. You know exactly what he means. 
His arms snake around your waist, resting on your lower back. “Yeah, you do, darlin’,” he says. “You afraid of me or something?” God he is so fucking cocky, you think to yourself. 
“’M’not afraid of you,” you whisper. “Could never be afraid of you.” 
He smiles and walks you to the edge of the bed, your knees threatening to buckle under the pressure. “What is it then, hm? You like how big I am? That it?” Your eyes frantically search his face for some sort of excuse, some sort of denial. But he can read you like a book. “Yeah, I think that’s it.” He’s towering over you, caging you in. 
“It’s more than that,” you admit. 
He cocks his head to the side. “Oh yeah? What?” He won’t let that be enough—you know he won’t. He’ll tease it out of you. His presence is dizzying and distracting. You’re not even sure you can form another complete sentence. 
“I-it’s just you,” you finally choke out. 
But it’s not enough for him. “What about me?”
Everything, you want to say. You want to tell him how you feel. “Logan, I…” But you can’t. I’m not in love, that’s what you’ve been trying to convince yourself of for months.  
“Go on, say it. What’s got you going?” He tightens his grip around your waist, his thumbs rubbing gently along your back. He leans down, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Use your words, sweetheart.” 
Your eyes flutter shut, and you take a deep breath. He’s everything and he’s everywhere. He’s in your head and in your hands. You can smell the musk and the pine and a hint of mint and that extra thing that is just distinctly him. He’s warm and his breath ever-so-lightly tickles your ear as his forehead rests against yours. 
And then finally, it comes out.
“I want you, Lo.”
You open your eyes and immediately notice the change in his expression. That cocky grin is gone. He isn’t teasing anymore. This is something else. Want. No, stronger than that. Desire. Adoration. Longing. Like those four words undid something in him. Untangled some knot that had been there for far too long. Almost like he thought you maybe wouldn’t want this. That maybe someone wouldn’t want him. 
So, you say it again. “I want you, Logan.” 
He shuts his eyes. “Fuck.” 
And then he’s pushing you down onto the mattress. His lips find their way to yours, crashing like the world is about to end. You can feel his hunger, his desperation. He rests one hand next to your head for balance and slips his free hand underneath the shirt he lent you. He’s exploring the curves of your body, the dips and turns, eventually pulling the shirt up and over your head. 
He comes up for air as his fingers play with the clasp of your bra. You watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “This okay?” He asks, waiting for your approval. You nod and the hooks are immediately undone. You arch your back so he can slip the bra off. “Fuck, pretty girl,” he mumbles. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 
His hands find their way to your chest, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, teasing you, pinching lightly. 
“Lo, please. Need you,” is all you can say. 
He trails a line of kisses down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, the center of your chest, his mouth traveling achingly slowly until finally landing on one of your tits. He kisses your nipple before taking it into his mouth, biting lightly and licking the hurt away. 
“Please,” you beg again. 
He comes up for a moment. “Please what?” He asks before moving on to the other side. 
“Need you so bad,” You whimper. But he doesn’t stop. “N-need you to touch me.”
He pauses again. “Think I’m already doing that, darlin’. Gonna have to be more specific.” 
“Fuck me, please.”  
He shakes his head. “Wanna make you feel good first, pretty girl.” 
You sit up a bit, ready to protest. “But you are. You’re making me feel so—” You’re cut off by the sight of him staring up at you as he trails kisses down your stomach, stopping at the top of your panties. He grabs your hips and pushes you further into the center of the bed. His fingers slip under the hem of your panties, waiting for your approval. You nod, and he practically tears them right off you. 
Logan kisses the inside of your thigh, slowly charting a path toward your core, his thumb tracing circles on the other thigh. You’re already squirming under his touch. “Lo,” You whimper. “Please—Fuck!” Without warning, his tongue licks a long stripe up your folds to your clit. His lips lock around it, sucking softly, his fingers suddenly teasing your entrance before slipping a finger inside.
“So tight darlin’. Gonna feel so good,” he mumbles against you, the vibrations of his deep voice sending a jolt up your spine. 
He’s taking his time, tasting you, savoring you. His tongue laps at your cunt, licking slow circles as his finger pumps in and out. You need more.
“Lo,” You call out, your back arching in pleasure. But he doesn’t answer. He keeps going as if he’s gotten lost in you, as if there’s nothing that can possibly be said to bring him back. “Lo, please,” you moan again. 
He chuckles against your core. “Please what, pretty girl?” He mumbles. You can feel his smirk against you.
“M-more,” you beg. You can feel his smirk grow wider as his motions stall. “No don’t stop, please don’t stop.” 
He looks up at you, his finger buried deep inside your cunt, his lips just inches from your clit. “Wanna take my time with you, darlin’.”
“Y-you c-can,” You stutter. “W-whatever you want. Just need more.”
“More?” He repeats, arrogantly tilting his head. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight. 
“Yes, please.” But you know by the look in his eyes that you’re getting more than you bargained for. 
He adds another finger, pumping in and out faster than before. His lips latch onto your clit, sucking roughly. It’s overwhelming, and you know he isn’t going to let up. His tongue draws circles around your core, flicking harshly before ruthlessly sucking again. You can feel a third finger prodding your entrance before slipping in and stretching you out. 
“This what you wanted?” He teases.
“Lo, I—” It’s too much, you can’t speak. 
“I’ve got you darlin’. I’m right here. You’re doing so good for me.” His words by themselves practically send you over the edge. 
“’M’so close Logan,” You whimper, spurring him on. His pace quickens; his circles become harder. You can feel your walls tightening around his fingers. 
“I know, pretty girl. Wanna feel you come on my fingers. Can you do that for me?” 
You can’t even speak anymore. All you can manage is a hum that passes for an affirmative. He pumps in and out of you, still alternating between sucking your clit and circling it with his tongue. 
“Look so beautiful like this darlin’. So fucking beautiful,” He husks. And that’s all it takes to make that liquid heat, that tension building in the bottom of your stomach, cut like a knife, pouring out of you. Your vision blurs as you let yourself go. You chant his name like it’s a prayer, a spell, something otherworldly. He finally slows down, letting you ride out your orgasm. 
He pulls out and away from you, crawling up your body so that he’s on top of you. He’s absolutely huge; his arms rest next to your head, caging you in. “You alright sweetheart?” He asks, one hand coming up to cup your cheek as he presses a chaste kiss against your forehead. 
“Hm,” You hum. “Like you like this.”
There’s that cocky smirk again. “Like what?”
“O-on top of me,” You admit freely now. Your arms come up to wrap around his shoulders, but he quickly pins them above your head.
He smiles widely, his forehead coming down to rest on yours. You can feel his erection press against your core through his boxers. And—fuck—he’s big. “Gonna fuck you like this then, okay pretty girl?”
“P-please,” you stutter. 
He sits up, pulling his boxers down, revealing just how big he is. You swallow harshly, sitting up and watching as he casts his boxers to the side. He doesn’t let you watch for long. He pins you down again, one hand keeping your hands above your head and supporting his weight, while the other guides his cock to your entrance. His slides against your folds before slowly sinking inside you. You can’t help but arch your back to meet his chest. 
Everything is slow. He’s taking his time again, letting himself feel every inch of you, giving you the chance to adjust to the size of him. His free hand reaches in between your bodies and finds your clit, drawing slow, gentle circles. 
His forehead rests against yours as he thrusts into you. “Wanted this for so long,” he confesses, his thrusts growing faster. “Always wanted you, darlin’.” You can feel your heart burst in your chest as his lips meet yours. You can feel his hunger, his desire. 
“Wanted you too,” You whisper against his lips between kisses. 
His cock rubs against your walls, hitting that sweet spot every single time. He’s massive, stretching you out with each pump. He builds speed, his thrusts growing rougher as his fingers circle your clit faster. 
He whispers praises in your ear. “You feel so good, pretty girl. So fucking tight. Need you, darlin’. Always.” 
Always. 
It’s all too much. The words, the vulnerability, the feeling of him rutting into you with no end in sight. The promise of something else, something more. 
“Logan, I’m gonna…” You trail off, your walls tightening around him. It’s all so overwhelming. But if you’re being honest, you never want it to end. This. This feeling. Him inside you. Him around you. 
He curses under his breath, his thrusts becoming sloppier and faster as he chases his orgasm. “I know darlin’. Wanna feel you come on my cock.” He keeps his fingers steady on your clit, circling roughly, chasing your orgasm too. 
“Lo,” You mumble. “It’s so good. Y-you’re so good, so b-beautiful.” You’re a bumbling mess, but you want him to feel good too, to know what he’s doing to you, to know that he deserves this. Deserves to be wanted. 
You feel wetness on his cheeks as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. “Always wanted you,” he whispers again against the shell of your ear. “Always gonna want you.” 
The tension snaps, and you feel blaring white heat ripple through your body. Logan somehow buries himself deeper inside you as you come, your walls squeezing him tighter. 
“F-fuck,” he groans. “Where do you want—”
You cut him off this time. “Inside, please,” you pant. “Safe.” He curses under his breath and calls out your name as he fills you up. 
“So perfect,” he whispers. “So fucking perfect.”
His thrusts slow down as he finishes, and he slowly pulls out of you. But he doesn’t pull away. He keeps you close, moving you both towards the headboard. It takes a minute, but he manages to keep you close to his chest as he undoes the covers and gets you both inside them. 
Logan holds you tightly, peppering kisses against your temples every now and then. 
He’s the first to speak. “When I said always…” He trails off. You brace yourself for the worst. It was just the heat of the moment, bub. ‘M’sorry I said it. This shouldn’t happen again. It was a one-time thing and I—
“I meant it.”
You look up at him, eyes wide. He smiles. But it’s not that cocky smile, not that self-satisfied shit-eating grin. It’s that other thing again. Longing. 
“I meant it, too.” 
tags: @cypherpt5fttaehyung
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sistertotheknowitall · 7 months
Text
Danny is Some Guy with a not so secret admirer.
Part four? Post #four? I don’t know, none of these are exactly in order. Post one, post two, post three.
——
By the time Tim opened the door, Danny had his coffee made and handed to Mia at the register. He resolutely ignored her smug face and went back to making the other orders.
Tim had been a regular long before Danny had started at the coffee shop but it was three days into Danny’s third week when Tim had stumbled in at eight a.m. and did a double take upon seeing Danny. A very obvious double take followed by intense staring before Mia had cleared her throat. The blush that lit up Tim’s face was only rivaled by the one on Danny’s.
He had never had anyone openly stare at him before.
Mia had been insufferable ever since.
It also didn’t help that shortly after their first meeting Tim had started taking his breaks at the little coffee shop. It’s been three weeks, nearly a month and Wayne Enterprise’s CEO went from a bi-weekly regular to an everyday one. (Danny wondered if he should be concerned for the man’s caffeine intake but he only had the one cup every time so probably not.)
Originally, Danny had no plans to talk to Tim. It seemed obvious the guy had a crush on Danny if the constant looks over his laptop were anything to go by and Danny didn’t want to encourage it. Danny barely had time to make new friends let alone start a relationship.
There was also the added problem of what was quickly becoming his bat stalkers. How do you explain to someone that you were being watched by Gotham’s vigilante’s for no reason? (Or worse because he had made a poorly timed sleep-deprived comment.) Danny didn’t think you could without seeming suspicious.
Incidentally though, Danny’s plan went out the window when on a slow afternoon as he was cleaning tables and passed behind Tim. Once he saw the article the other man was reading he snorted.
Bruce Wayne and The Batman? Could This Be A New Romance For Gothams Most Beloved Billionaire?
It was one of those gossip rags that printed things like: Elvis: alive and well and Superman: a mild mannered farm boy? It was all nonsense.
Danny asked Tim why he bothered with the site and Tim responded that he found it amusing to read and that his family had a group chat where they sent the articles to each other.
“Okay. But Batman? Really? Your dad could do so much better.”
“You don’t like Batman?” Tim asked. Danny had slid into the chair next to him and shrugged. “I respect what he does but for as intimidating as he is, he also seems a little silly.”
Tim had given him an incredulous look and Danny hadn’t given him time to ask for an explanation, “and his kids can be just as rude. Like that flying monkey one.” Tim choked on air and Danny politely waited for him to calm down. “Kids? Wait - flying monkey one? Which one -?”
“The one always doing back flips with the blue bird symbol. He’s also a dick that gives hypocritical lectures about fighting.” Danny wouldn’t say he hated the guy but he wasn’t sure how many more lectures he could endure before going ghost and fighting him.
Tim had turned to Danny completely and was watching him with a look of disbelief, “you mean Nightwing?”
“Is that his name? Imma call him Dickwing.”
Tim had started choking again, this time Danny patted his back hoping to help. Yet it was all for not once he kept talking, “I think I’ve only had positive interactions with the one who looks like a walking red flag.”
“Red flag? Do you men hood-?”
“No, although he is definitely a red flag, I mean the other Red one. I’m sorry, I don’t know all these peoples names yet.”
“Danny!” Mia called.
Danny stood and patted Tim, who looked a little shell-shocked, on the shoulder. “Well work calls, see you later Mr. Drake-Wayne.” As he walked away he heard Tim mutter “it’s just Tim.”
(Tim for his part, placed his head in his hands and thought, well at least I have his name now.)
After that first interaction Tim stopped playing the lurker and started to actually talk to Danny and vise versa. Danny never asked if he still had a crush on him, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
Unfortunately, their growing friendship had only encoraged Mia as she happily sang “your boyfriend’s here!”
Danny, very maturely, did not stick his tongue out at her. He did however flip her off under the counter like an adult.
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0mg-bird · 3 months
Text
Hangman’s Mystery - J Seresin x Fem! Reader
Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Shy! Fem! Reader
Summary: Jake takes you to meet the crew after claims of him hiding you from them. You’re extremely shy and aren’t a fan of lots of people, making Jake be more protective of you. For once, Rooster knows more about Jake’s life than the others do.
Warnings: Mentions of anxiety - protective Jake- Fluff!- language.
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“All I’m saying is it’s a little suspicious.” Payback says, opening his locker up. Jake just rolls his eyes, preparing himself to go through this debate one more time.
“I hate to say this, but I agree with him.” Fanboy pipes in, pulling his flight suit off.
Somehow, the conversations lately always turn back to you. Ever since the flight crew found out Jake’s been seeing someone and it wasn’t a casual hook up, they’ve bugged him about it ever since. It had come up one night at the Hard Deck, when Coyote suggested to a perky blonde, who had been hitting on him, to focus her attention on the southern boy who was playing pool. She eyed Jake up, pleased with what was in her gaze and moved in on him.
Some of the boys gathered around to watch the cocky pilot work his magic. Coyote figured he was doing the pilot a favor since he hadn’t been seen with a girl on his arm in a while. Imagine their surprise when Jake took a step away from the grasp on his bicep.
“What’s he doing?” Payback questions, looking appalled.
“Is he sick?” Phoenix asked as she finished her beer.
Jake had smiled politely and rejected all advances the girl made, sending her away and going straight to his pool game again.
By the time Rooster came around with a fresh drink, the group scrambled to fill him in on the alien sight they just witnessed.
“He sent her away.” Phoenix said with a slack jaw.
“Like a poor puppy.” Coyote joked.
Rooster took a swig of his beer, then shrugged like they were idiots. “Yeah, he already has a girl.”
“What?!” They all exclaimed.
Ever since that night a week ago, Jake was being grilled on it.
As he takes out a fresh shirt to slip on, Jake shakes his head. “Coyote is getting married, and y’all are icing me for having commitment?”
Payback nods. “Well that’s because we knew of his fiancée, you have been hiding this girl like a dirty little secret.”
“I think him and Bradshaw are pulling our leg.” Coyote pipes in. “I think he made her up just to fuck with us.”
Jake laughs out loud. “You are just being ridiculous now.”
Bob, who has been quiet the entire time, ‘lurking’ as the crew likes to say, finally uses his smug voice. “Look, Seresin, I get it. I had a fake girlfriend too one time in high school, it’s embarrassing to admit, buddy.” His words make the guys laugh, and Jake shuts his locker with a loud clank. “She’s not fake! She just doesn’t really like hanging out with dick heads like you guys. She’s real shy.” He glares.
“Well, I’ll believe it when I see it.” Fanboy states. “Yeah, we want to meet her. You bring her to the Hard Deck on Friday night if she’s real, or else we will never stop bugging you about it.” He says, giving Jake a harsh choice.
His hand runs down his face. “I’ll talk to her about it.”
“He’ll talk to her about it, he says.” Coyote scoffs. “Okay Seresin, go talk to your fake girlfriend about it.”
“She’s not fake!”
~~~~~~~
“Baby?” He calls, walking through your front door. Moving to set his small duffle bag on the counter, he toes off his boots, trying to place where you were in the sea side house. It was oddly quiet, maybe you had your head phones in, oblivious to the world outside.
Down the hall he goes, pushing open your cracked bedroom door. Your scrubs were tossed in the corner, almost making it into the laundry hamper. You lay sprawled in bed, hair out of your braid, asleep in one of Jake’s t shirts he left at your house and some boxer shorts.
Slowly, he creeps to your side, sitting on the edge of the bed as he strokes your hair. You slowly start to stir, opening your bright eyes to him. A smile creeps up your pink lips, you take a deep breath in and twist to sit up.
“Hi.” You grin, happy he’s here.
“You alright? It’s only five, you look tired.” His voice was calm, sweet to you as he stroked the under side of your chin with his finger.
You rubbed your eyes. “Long day.” You breathe. “Mr. Johnson passed this morning.”
Jake’s eyes grow heavy with sorrow for you. He knew that this was normal for you because you were an at home nurse and a lot of the time the elderly patients pass. “I’m sorry, honey.” He says, leaning to kiss your forehead.
You lean into his touch. “It’s alright, I should be used to it by now but…I don’t know, Mr. Johnson was a sweet man, I actually adored his company.” You softly laugh. “But, that’s life, I’ll be fine.”
Pushing the covers further off of you, you lean forward and sweetly kiss the man that’s been in your life for five months. Despite the somewhat short time period, you couldn’t imagine life being any different than what it is. Your mother and sister called you crazy for being with an aviator, reminding you that he won’t stay in town forever, that he is quite literally owned by the government and will be wherever he is assigned to. The thought was scary, getting so attached to someone just for him leave when his ship comes in. It made your anxiety tick higher when you thought about it for too long. But, you don’t think you’ve ever been this in love. You’ll be the first to admit that you’ve never been a social butterfly, you were stuck in a shell, hardly bothering to get close to new people. Your handful of friends knew this about you, so it was a surprise when they met Jake and all of his infectious attitude. Somehow, Jake had a way of prying that shell open, his strong hands took you off the shelf and he learned that there’s a light hearted, good time, girl under all the shy innocence. He loved you for both versions, and it made you love him even more.
You declared that if you could, you’d follow him anywhere.
As he takes a shower, probably using your shampoo, you move to figure out what it is that you wanted to make for dinner.
You turn on some music, cracking a beer open and taking a drink. Soon, the kitchen is full of a delicious scent that Jake smells all the way from the bedroom. He follows the waft, sweatpants low on his hips and a casual tank top over her upper half. Finding you stirring some vegetables, he kisses the side of your head, then snatches the half drank bottle from your hand. This is usually the routine, you can never finish the drink you intend to, so he’s there to finish it for you.
“I want to…ask you something.” He says, leaning back against the counter.
You hum in question, and he loves the little look you toss him from over your shoulder.
“You wanna go out on Friday night?” He asks, making you smile. “Sure, where do you want to go?” You ask, unsure why he seems off.
“Well, I think since I’ve met your friends, you should meet mine. Let’s go to the Hard Deck with them, honey.”
You immediately stop your movements, anxiety sweeping over you. “Jake…I don’t know…a bar…”
“I met you in a bar.” He reminds with a smug look.
“That was different.” You turn to face him. “I was dragged there for my sister’s twenty first birthday and you know I hated it the whole time.”
He smiles at your pointed look. “Yes, I know but this will be different. Look, we’ll go, say hi, prove you actually exist, then come home and have sex on the couch.”
Your eyes widen. “Jake!” You gasp at his bluntness.
“Fine, we’ll do it in the shower.”
“Just stop talking.” You shake your head, hiding your smile. “The crew really doesn’t think I exist?”
He comes to grips with your waist. “They think I’ve made you up, like some sad Freshman geek…like i’m Bob or something.”
“Who’s Bob?” You ask with confusion.
His head dips to your neck. “Come to the bar and you’ll figure it out.” He mumbles, inhaling your scent before nipping at your skin. It makes you laugh, desperate to push him away but his strong arms have you locked in.
Something about him could make you forget anything. Sadness, anxiety, tiredness…the veggies that are burning in the skillet.
As his mouth moves up your throat, he’s engulfing you like a starved man. You try to speak before he’s inhaling you deeply, pulling you impossibly closer with his mouth on yours, searing you with a kiss that makes your knees weak.
“Jake- baby- mm.” You battle. “Okay, I’ll go with you. Jake- vegetables are charring.”
He finally lets go of you, grinning at your laugh and the way you stumble slightly as he lets you go.
~~
Clammy hands run down your jeans, once, twice, three times before Jake pulls you towards the entrance.
“They’re not gonna like me.” You stress.
“They’ll love you.” He states, wrapping an arm around your waist.
“They’ll be bored of me in two seconds.” You continue.
“No they won’t, just breathe, honey.”
You’re submerged into a room full of talk and music, some rowdy college kids are being thrown out and you’re sure you stepped in a puddle of spilled margarita. Your eyes are wide, and you shift closer into the larger body beside you. Jake leans down to whisper in your ear that it’s calmer in the back.
By the pool table, a group is gathered there and you immediately assume this is the infamous crew.
Phoenix is the first to notice, she smacks Payback and Fanboy, motioning for them to look alive.
“Well well, here he is, the man himself.” Coyote says smugly, setting his pool stick down.
A shorter pilot approaches you. “How much did he pay you to be here?” He asks, confusing you.
“What?”
“Just joking, I’m Reuben, but everyone calls me Payback, and you’re gorgeous.” He takes your hand in greeting, making your face heat with surprise and embarrassment.
Payback is pushed aside, and replaced by another. “I’m Fanboy, his back seater which means he’d be shit outa luck if he didn’t have me saving his ass.”
You shake his hand too, unsure of what to say.
“So, what’s your name? Wait, what was the last one, Jake? Abbi? Alison? Sorry, he has a thing for A names. Your name start with an A?” His tone is teasing, but he’s so straightforward, it makes things awkward.
Jake’s grip tightens on you. “Cut it out, Garcia.” He slowly said with a warning look.
Fanboy puts his hands up in defense. “Just trying to get to know this mystery girl you hid from us, Hangman.” He claims, then goes back to your gaze. “What’s your name?”
“Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” You say softly, brushing him off.
You’re introduced to more guys, all who make some sort of snide comment about your relationship with Jake, well, except for Bob who was utterly polite. To your surprise, you’re introduced to Natasha greets you with a hug.
“Well, you’re real and not crazy so that’s a plus.” She jokes, making you chuckle. “You want something to drink?” She asks.
“You’re sweet, thank you. I’ll just take a beer, I’m not picky.” You say in a grateful tone, she nods, saying she’ll be right back.
Moving in from outside, Rooster makes his appearance.
“I missed the meet and greet? Damn.” He says, making you turn with a grin.
“Bradley, hi!” You greet, stepping away from Jake’s embrace momentarily. Rooster hugs you politely. “Hey girly, how are you?”
The crew grows a sour look.
“You two already know each other?” Coyote asks.
Rooster nods. “I was there when her and Hangman met.” He says so casually.
“Bradley and Ashley come over for lunch sometimes.” You add, making the group look at each other.
“Does no one tell us anything anymore or…” Bob trails off.
The night continues with chatter and worthless bets on pool shots. At no point does your hand leave Jake, whether it’s intertwined with his or on his arm, his back, your finger hooked on his belt loop, anything. It might make you look needy, but it’s something that eases your nerves.
When you do pull away from him with intention of finding the bathroom, he immediately turns when your warmth is gone.
“Where you goin’?” He questions.
“The ladies room, a place you can’t follow me in to.” You tease, starting to walk away.
He’s eyes scan the room, then watch you closely. He doesn’t miss the amount of guys that turn to watch you, scanning you up and down, definitely making comments about how good you fit in your jeans.
His paranoia gets the better of him, he marches across the bar to the hallway where the restrooms are. Back leaned against the wall, he waits, standing guard, in his mind, but the pilots call him a puppy.
“Mystery girl went and made him a golden retriever.” Payback laughs.
Fanboy nods. “We’ve lost him for good. What’s he gonna do when he leaves next month for Po-dunk, Texas- or wherever he’s from?”
They all watch as you and Jake slowly start to walk back to the group. Rooster, who finishes his beer, simply shrugs and leans to line his pool stick up. “He says he’s gonna take her with him and marry her.”
“What?!”
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inupibaldspot · 8 months
Text
Wingman ain’t subtle.
Paring: Gojo Satoru x reader
Note ₊˚⊹♡ : This takes place when Gojo and the rest are students and you are one year senior/older than them
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Gojo thinks today is a bad day.
“y/n-senpai apparently only dates guys older than her” Shoko says she sucks the drink from the straw. As much as she’d like to be smoking, it wasn’t allowed on campus.
The lollipop in Gojo’s mouth falls to the ground which makes Geto snort.
“Sucks to you Satoru.” He comments. “If only you were born a year or two before you’d have a chance.”
Gojo winches as he looks over to Shoko with eyes pleading that she was lying “For real?”
“Yeah.” Shoko and you shared being gifted with Reverse Cursed Technique so they’d spend a lot of time training together so the two were close.
Ever since he learned that fact, Gojo had Shoko be his wing man on learning to be and also learn about your type. She was hesitant at fist but oh boy! Gojo was so hopelessly in love with you she kinda felt bad. Shoko adds. “She thinks older guy make her feel protected.”
Gojo huffs, his stomach churns with jealousy. “I’m literally the strongest…” who else would you need to feel protected?
To add on the fact that learning about him having no chance with you because of the year he was born ��� ‘Satoru was spawn killed.’ Geto would add— he and his classmates had forgotten to put up a veil during a mission which triggered Yaga’s, their teacher in charge, wrath.
Yaga takes in a deep breath“How many times do I have to tell you to put up a veil ?!”
Gojo really couldn’t careless as his teacher yaps away and probably neither did both of his two friends. He could see Geto nod at times as if acting like he was taking Yaga’s word to heart and with Shoko dozing off with her eyes open.
He does his best to fight back a yawn as something suddenly grabs his attention. You. His eyes trail to you ,who was a year senior to him, walking along the hallway, revealed by the long strip of windows between the classroom and hall. Gojo thinks you’re the loveliest piece of existence in the planet as you gently tug a piece of hair behind as you talk with Utahime.
Feeling a piercing gaze — or maybe it was Yaga’s shouts— you look over inside the class as meet your eyes with beautiful vibrant blue ones of your junior, Gojo Satoru’s.
When you give him a smile and a small wave, you weren’t expecting him to straight up beam at your direction and full on wave as if a kid would wave at an airplane passing by.
Of course this angered Yaga further as a nerve pops on his forehead and hands clenched. “Pay attention, Satoru!” He swings his fist at the boy.
The impact of his teacher’s fist on him sends him flying. If he weren’t such a good student he would have actually used his limitless to block such hits but alas— it may not look like it but he was. “Sensei—! Hitting your students should be against the law.”
He sees Geto sent him an amused smirk and Shoko,who finally woke up, trying to figure out what was happening and to his horror, you were giggling at him. Not many things can make Gojo feel embarrassed but his crush laughing at him when he got hit was one of it.
Yup-! That’s exactly what he needed; his crushing laughing as he gets beat up and lectured by his teacher. His day was going fan-tas-tic!
The day goes on with with the remaining classes. Evening classes were usually training so Shoko was in infirmary with Gojo and Geto on the training grounds but one thing bother Gojo was that the ‘hit’ from Yaga earlier did leave an impact. The back of his head a aching and even made him jump when Geto applied the slightest bit of pressure.
Call him dramatic but he didn’t want the ache to go on further so there he was on his way to the infirmary. He really needed Shoko to patch him up.
He slides the door open as he starts to complain. “Shoko heal me up. Yaga’s hit really did some damage on me”
“You’re hurt?”
Hearing a voice which wasn’t Shoko’s and with almost a magic like ability to make his heart race grabbed his attention. He turns to see you who was near the storage cabinet as if you were arranging something.
“I- uhh…” Suddenly his throat constricted and he couldn’t speak. His face heats up as you tilt your head waiting for an answer as he clears his throat. “Just a bit, y/n.”
“Shoko is out though. She got called to assist in a mission. ” You smile as you sit on a near by chair, pulling another chair beside.
You smile at him as you pat the chair beside yours indicating him to sit down there which makes him tense up slightly but he does as told. “Also you should be calling me ‘senpai’. Utahime-senpai was complaining that youth these days have no manner.”
You laugh. “Now tell me where you’re hurt.”
He sits beside you as he tilts his head and points at his sore spot. “Here.”
Gojo watches you raise your hand and inspect his heat, the places where your fingers grazes heats up which makes him gulp deeply. You laugh as you see a swelling on his head. “Wow- Sensei really did hit you hard…”
The white haired boy relaxes as he he feels the calming sensation on his head which means you were using your technique of healing him. “Does age really matter that much?”
You hum as if thinking through your answer. “Of course. Even a year older means you’ve been in this world for a year longer. That in itself is commendable enough.”
“I heard from Shoko that you like guys older…” Gojo says no longer trying to contain the jealousy in his voice. “Is it because of the same reason?”
Gojo watches your eyes widen and blink in confusion; he thinks any expression you make is so so adorable. You then proceed to giggle. “Just because I dated people who are older than me doesn’t mean I have a type.”
Damn that Shoko probably messed around with her wording. Gojo curses as the girl made it seem you would only date guys older than her.
“For example…” You hum as you bring your finger up to your lips. “Right now I like a guy who is younger than me who never respects his elder.”
Hearing her words, every restrain in his body breaks free and Gojo stands up from his seat ; before he knows it his lips are on yours. He hold your face in place, cupping both side of his cheeks.
Gojo kisses you. Your lips are softer than he imagined it to be and when you let out a small moan he deepens it, stronger and desperate as if trying to memorize every inch of you.
He brings one of his hands to the back of your head, as he runs his hands through your hair. His lips keep moving as if he had lost his mind; deep and urgent as if he couldn’t waste a single second.
Out of breath, he pulls away and looks at you who was breathing heavily and lips slightly plump from his desperate tugs and bites. He watches the same lips curl into a smile as you give him a teasing smile. “Also tell Shoko to quit being your wing man,Satoru. She isn’t quite subtle about it.”
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hausofwoo · 3 months
Text
open wide | park seonghwa
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pairing: park seonghwa x afab!reader
word count: 5.7K
summary: you start working at a restaurant and everything seems to be going well; you work hard, you made friends, and even when you mess up, your coworkers still have your back… except for the bartender, seonghwa.
warnings: 18+, minors do not interact, restaurant!au, bartender! and dom!seonghwa, enemies to lovers trope, HATE FUCK, oral (f and m receiving), pussy slapping, dick slapping, choking, hair pulling, edging, fingering, creampie, alcohol consumption, sex under the influence of alcohol (but both consenting), unprotected piv (WRAP IT UP BE SAFE), cumplay, dacryphilia, seonghwa is an asshole and reader is strangely attracted to it, degrading, reader gives switch vibes, VERY descriptive smut scene [i have no shame], seonghwa is HUNG, use of pet names (princess, baby, good girl, little/dirty slut), woosan allegations LMAO, lmk if i missed anything! also feat. server/work bestie!ryujin, server!wooyoung and san, food runner!mingi, and restaurant manager!hongjoong.
author’s note: me n my friend were talking about seonghwa and the thought of him *ahem* slapping his dick on ur face .. and it sent us into a spiral. i had to make dreams come true. thank u to @hausofmingi and T for being my beta-readers and for giving amazing feedback and ideas :-) this one goes out to all the restaurant girlies!
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seonghwa was pissing you the fuck off.
working at a restaurant is already hard enough, but to have an enemy that you work with? it’s unbearable.
you were new to the industry when you started at the restaurant, and of course you got treated like you were stupid for the first few months. you almost expected it, since you had friends who worked at restaurants and they warned you that people will walk all over you for being “green.” you learned as fast as you could, making mistakes here and there. but eventually you felt as if you proved everyone there wrong; that you are a good server and you are hard working, despite your mistakes. you built a rapport with your coworkers, and they granted you grace when you needed it. everyone, except for him.
the bartender. god that fucking bartender. your manager hongjoong introduced you on your first day, and ever since you’ve been butting heads.
“this is seonghwa, our bartender,” hongjoong says, pointing out the black-haired man setting up the bar. “he’s been here since we opened, but he’s been in the industry for even longer.”
“oh, wow,” you exclaim, watching him splay out the non-slip mats around the bar.
“yeah, wow,” hongjoong laughs. “this guy can pour exactly an ounce of liquor without even looking. and he’s fast. you’ll learn a lot from him.”
the corner of seonghwa’s mouth quirks up in almost a smug way. he’s good and he knows it. with his legendary status came his cockiness.
“well i gotta grab some paperwork for you to finish up,” hongjoong says as heads to the back. “i’ll be back out in a sec.”
you stand by the bar, basically twiddling your thumbs. “it’s nice to meet you, i’m–"
“look, princess,” seonghwa interrupts. “as much as i love introducing myself to yet another newbie, i have more important things to do right now.”
and that was just the beginning, and not just for your newfound nickname.
the best way to sum up how he continues to treat you is from this one specific experience. you rang up drinks for your table, and you meant to put a vodka soda instead of a tequila soda. you noticed it right away so you immediately cancelled that order and rung it up correctly. you promptly went to the bar to tell seonghwa.
“hey, ignore that first ticket for the tequila soda, i sent a new ticket,” you called out. but when seonghwa turned, he had the drink already in his hand, looking like he was about to set it on the drink pass.
“oh.”
he grabbed the new ticket with his other hand, glanced at it briefly, looked at you, and then slammed the ticket onto the ticket spindle. he turned around and dumped the drink in the sink and started making the new drink.
“hey i’m sorry, it was a mistake,” you defended.
“yeah yeah, it’s fine, princess,” he said with an eye roll. he placed the new drink on the pass. you inspect his face, wondering if it really was fine. he scoffs and pushes the drink forward more. “just take your drink and go, it’s way too fucking busy to be standing around talking.”
maybe it wasn’t a big deal. maybe he was just in the weeds and was taking it out on you. that’s the thing about restaurants, when you’re in the middle of service and everyone’s running around, you kinda end up saying shit you don’t mean. it was never anything personal. you knew that because at the end of service, you’d finish up closing with your coworkers and have a shift beer, laughing it off like it didn’t happen. because it didn’t matter in the end, it was just a restaurant.
but seonghwa never joined. even tonight, when you, the other servers, and even the manager were sat around the bar having your drinks, he just quietly broke down the bar.
“hey seonghwa,” hongjoong calls after him. “don’t worry about the bar, i’ll take care of the rest of it. you guys had a really hard night. have your shift beer and chill.”
“no no, i’ve got it. i’m just gonna finish up and get out of here.” you watch him as he lifts up the floor mats and starts mopping the sticky floor. you turn to your coworker, ryujin, who’s sipping at her PBR.
“i think seonghwa hates me,” you say, just low enough under your other coworkers chatting.
“what?” she laughs. “no no, i don’t think so. he’s just kind of an asshole.”
you glance over at him as he’s wiping down the back counters. you turn back to her.
“i don’t know, he’s just always been kinda short with me.” you look down at your drink and fiddle with the tab. “i feel like he doesn’t really like me. i don’t know what i did.”
“listen,” ryujin starts, placing a hand on your shoulder. “he’s short with everyone. shit, i’ve been here like 2 years and i still know nothing about him. don’t worry about it. he’s just here for a check like everyone else.”
you watch as seonghwa starts to walk back to the kitchen, lifting his sweatshirt off of his form, and a sliver of skin peeks at the small of his back just below his t-shirt. you can’t look away until he’s out of your line of sight, and ryujin starts giggling next to you.
“wait a minute, do you like him or something?” ryujin whispers.
“no no!” you say. “it’s just—i feel like it’s easy for me to talk to everyone here. with him, he just brushes me off. and he started that stupid nickname. ‘princess’. it feels condescending.”
“well i don’t know,” ryujin shrugs. “i don’t think he likes to mix business with pleasure anyway, in any form.”
you nod and look to see seonghwa back at the register, counting the cash and pulling out tips. he walks over and hands each server their share of drink tips, leaving you last. you look up at him, but he doesn’t even look at you. he just places the money on the bar, and quickly turns to go back to the kitchen.
“okay,” you sigh. “well i’m gonna get out of here, i gotta get some sleep. are we still on for sunday celebration?”
“um yeah dude. i’m gonna need it after we deal with the sunday service crowd.” ryujin grabs her bag and starts heading to the door with you.
“sunday celebration.” it’s kind of like a fucked-up weekly tradition your restaurant has. the weekend drives all of the staff mad and then after service sunday night, (since the restaurant is closed on mondays) pretty much everyone working grabs a shift drink and books it to the dive bar a couple streets over. is it healthy? absolutely not. but is it kinda weirdly cathartic? absolutely it is.
and you really really needed it after sundays service. you got stuck with a 15-top who had all sorts of allergies and dietary restrictions. like who the hell has a lettuce allergy? are they just making it up because they just don’t like lettuce? and why the hell are you trying to order a house salad when the main ingredient is literally lettuce? plus their drink orders were nuts. a tequila on the rocks? JUST tequila? and what’s worse is that the guy ordered like 4 of them. you just finished ringing in his 5th one.
you walk up to the bar to grab the drink (because damn seonghwa is fast) and look up to see him turning to you.
“hey, you gotta cut that guy off after that drink,” he says while shaking a cocktail in a shaker.
“yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” you laugh dryly.
“you shouldn’t have even rang this one,” he says, setting the shaker down. “you know there’s a 4 drink max, right? that’s like, a policy we have.”
“oh, i didn’t know that i guess.” you stab the ticket on the spindle.
“yeah i guess not,” he says with a sharpness in his voice, and starts pouring the drink in the cocktail glass. “just don’t do it again, princess.”
yeah, maybe you didn’t know that rule. but why does he have to talk to you like that? you start walking towards your 15-top, past the kitchen. you must’ve been really in your head about what seonghwa said because you completely missed someone yelling “corner.”
what happened felt like hours long, but it was probably only a few seconds. the food runner mingi was walking out of the kitchen with 3 plates of food. when you were passing by the kitchen entrance, it was too quick to move, and down fell all 3 plates. it was a mess.
“oh my god mingi, i’m so sorry!” you exclaim. you immediately grab a broom and attempt to sweep what you can.
“don’t apologize to me, apologize to seonghwa,” mingi says meekly, picking up the pieces of broken plate. “it was going to his 2-top at the bar.”
fuck. you don’t even want to look at him. you know he’s pissed. you finish cleaning the last bit of your mess while mingi goes back and asks for a refire on those dishes. as soon as you throw out the trash, you feel tears start to well up in your eyes. you can’t cry in the front of house, it’s unprofessional. but you can’t cry in the kitchen, unless you want the whole back of house to pester you with questions. the only solution was one place, every server’s safe haven: the walk in freezer.
you close the frosty door behind you, letting out a deep sigh that turns quickly into a billowing cloud. then, the waterworks. you couldn’t even help it, it all became too much. maybe it was out of frustration or stress, either way, you really needed this cry. tears stream down your face, turning cold on your cheeks from the freezing air.
it was mostly frustrating because the whole reason this happened was because of seonghwa. he snapped at you for not knowing some stupid rule, and it caused you to lose focus. it’s his fault.
just when you felt yourself calming down, the freezer door opens swiftly. it was him.
“you wanna tell me why my table’s food was refired?” seonghwa spits, anger in his eyes. “they’re gonna have to wait another 10 minutes and they’ve already been waiting for their food for 20.”
“seonghwa, please,” you huff, trying to hold it together. “can i just have one more second?”
“no! i could be totally out of a tip from a table because of you.”
“dude, it was a mistake!” you defend. you feel backed into a corner. literally, the walk-in was tiny and you were basically pressed up against the cold wall with seonghwa hovering over you.
“you keep making these stupid mistakes. i don’t know why they even hired you, you know fucking nothing about restaurants.”
you stood in shock. you didn’t know what to say. seonghwa had this fire behind his eyes that almost scared you. his chest was puffing up and down, breathing heavily from adrenaline. a bead of sweat falls down his temple, threatening to fall from his face. why did suddenly… he look so… attractive? you were so confused by how your body was reacting. instead of pure hatred, suddenly you felt a pang of lust. what the hell was happening to you?
“you owe me, princess,” seonghwa mumbles.
and in a blink of an eye, he withdraws from the walk-in and slams the door behind him, leaving you completely disoriented.
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at the end of service, you were BEAT. you slump back into the bar seat, crack open your shift drink, and take a hefty gulp. ryujin jumps into the seat next to you, already drinking her usual PBR.
“dude, tonight SUCKED,” she groans.
“tell me about it,” you mutter, counting your cash tips. “at least they tipped well, but at what cost?”
“the cost of my fucking sanity, that’s what,” ryujin whines. “please tell me you’re still down for celebration. please please pleeeease?”
“oh i am so down,” you say. you look at your other coworkers. “san, woo? you coming?”
“you bet i am,” wooyoung chuckles, gathering up his stuff. “i’m heading there now. c’mon san.”
san stands and starts heading out the door with wooyoung but then turns back. “wait, seonghwa, are you finally gonna come to sunday celebration?”
seonghwa places down the wine glass he was polishing. “maybe. we’ll see.” he turns to hang up the glass on the rack and for a moment, just a moment, he makes eye contact with you. you look away immediately and decide to put your attention back on your beer. you chug what’s left of it and toss the can in the trash.
“ryujin, let’s go."
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you and your fellow servers took the booth in the back of the bar, your usual spot. a couple of them were complaining about the tables they had, some were playing an intense game of darts, while you nursed your mixed drink as ryujin rants about her situationship.
wooyoung slips into the seat next to you, grabbing his beer on the table. “remind me to never play darts with san again. he’s way too competitive.”
you laugh, “you know, you say that, but you always end up playing with him every sunday.”
wooyoung chuckles as he shrugs. he then looks around the bar. “wait, didn’t seonghwa say he was coming?”
“he said he MIGHT come,” san says as he slides into the booth. you can feel yourself retreating as soon as his name was brought up. “but you know him. he never hangs out with anyone outside work.”
“he’s probably still scrubbing the bar,” the food runner mingi chimes in. “that dude is a clean freak.”
“nothing wrong with that at a restaurant!” san says.
“hey i’m gonna grab another drink,” you mumble, standing up. “i’ll be right back.”
you walk over and lean against the bar and wait patiently for the bartender to get to you. you look around, sort of people-watching the sunday crowd. it’s all industry people, you know it. you turn your head back to see the bartender facing you.
“what can i get you?”
“oh, i’ll just take a vodka cran,” you force a smile. he nods and turns to make your drink.
“a vodka cranberry?” you hear a chuckle next to you. “i thought your go-to would be different.”
you look over and see seonghwa leaning on the bar and looking over at you. he wasn’t wearing his work clothes like you’re used to seeing him in. he was wearing jeans and a black tank with a leather jacket. he looked different. he looked…. really good.
“oh, you made it,” you say, trying not to sound annoyed. you gather yourself a bit. “oh, don’t judge me for my drink choice, okay? as much as i love our free shift drinks, i don’t really drink beer outside of work.”
“ah, i see.” he nods, definitely uninterested, and looks at the bartender who had already set your drink down and was waiting for you to pay. you dig through your bag, struggling to find your wallet. seonghwa notices and sighs. “i’ll just get this one and i’ll get a jack and coke.”
“you didn’t have to do that,” you look up to him in confusion.
“it’s whatever, just take your drink,” he doesn’t even look at you as the bartender hands his drink over and grabs seonghwa’s card that he set on the bar.
“oh. well thank you.” you sip at your drink. “i’m going back to the booth.”
he grabs his jack and coke and takes a quick drink. “darts?”
“um, okay?” you stutter, watching him walk past you to the dart board in the corner, and then following him with a look on your face that could only be described as complete and utter confusion.
“san, woo, wanna play teams?” you call across to your coworkers. they perk up and immediately jump over to the dartboard.
“me and san versus you and seonghwa?” woo asks, rubbing his palms together with a chuckle. “let’s say loser buys drinks?”
“i’m not really good at this,” you say laughing. “but i’ll do my best.”
“oh, great,” seonghwa scoffs as he writes both of your initials in the chalkboard by the dartboard. “just show me what you got.” he grabs the darts and places them in your hand, touch lingering a little longer than needed.
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“you know,” you say to seonghwa as you close out 18 on the chalkboard, then passing the darts to san. “i really wasn’t expecting you to come out tonight.”
“we’ve begging him for what seems like years, man,” san chimes in, attempting but eventually failing to hit bullseye. yet somehow team woosan is still beating you. he grabs the darts to hand to seonghwa.
“yeah, what changed?” wooyoung says as he leans against a chair.
“i wasn’t really expecting to come out either,” seonghwa admits. “i guess i wanted to see what sunday celebration was all about.” he closes out 17 and 19. why is he so good at everything?
“i mean it’s just all of us getting drunk to get over a shitty shift,” you watch as he tosses the darts to wooyoung for his turn. “so it’s really not much.”
“did you have a shitty shift?” he asks, turning to face you directly.
“w-well, yeah,” you mumble, uncomfortable by the attentiveness. woo quickly hands the darts to you and goes back to a conversation he’s having with san. you look down at the darts in your hands. “look, i know i made a mistake but i really didn’t know that rule about the drinks. and it got me in my head and then mingi came with your table’s food and—“
he rolls his eyes. “you just make a lot of rookie mistakes. you’ll learn.”
you completely abandon the game of darts at this point. “dude, you gotta stop talking to me like that.”
“like what?” he says with a smirk. does he think this is funny?
“like you think i’m stupid or something,” you say, slightly pushing his shoulder. “i’m not stupid. yeah, you’ve been in the industry way longer than me, but we all have to start somewhere.” you grab your bag and walk over to the booth, san and woo protesting behind you. you slouch next to ryujin with a sigh.
“what the hell just happened?” ryujin questions, looking back at seonghwa by the dartboard.
“seonghwa’s being a dick to me, once again.” you exhale deeply. “let’s get another drink.”
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as the night went on, your coworkers start filing out one by one. san and wooyoung were one of the last to leave together (something going on there?) and you’re left in front of the bar, struggling to find an uber. your apartment is definitely walking distance, but not at this time of night. the real issue was getting a fucking ride. every uber was at least 20 minutes away. you looked back through the bar window and saw the bartender starting to close up. shit, it’s almost 1 am. you look back down to your phone and consider downloading lyft for maybe the 2nd time in your life.
“what are you still doing here?” you hear a voice behind you. you look back and it’s seonghwa, pulling his keys out of his pocket.
“i should be asking you the same thing,” you mutter. when will he leave you alone?
“can’t find an uber?” he questions, pointing down at your phone.
“yeah, its fine though,” you brush him off.
“you live close by right?” he asks, annoyance in his voice. “i’ll just drop you off.”
“no, really,” you huff. “i don’t need your help.”
“look princess,” he looks to you intently. “i’m not gonna let you wait outside a bar at this hour. i’m not that big of an asshole.”
you consider for a moment. he’s definitely right. it’s late, and staying outside a closed bar this late can lead to trouble.
“fine. but stop calling me princess.”
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when he pulls up to your apartment building, you start to have an internal war with yourself. you can’t help but have this anger in the pit of your stomach that’s eating you up.
“you look deep in thought,” seonghwa says impatiently.
“yeah, uh,” you mumble. “i just.. i need to know, why do you hate me?”
seonghwa pulls the car in a spot and parks. “i don’t hate you, necessarily…” he starts.
“you just think you’re better than me?” you pry, irritated.
“i mean, i have been in the industry longer than you…” he smiles smugly.
“there you go again,” you throw your hands up, hatred scratching at your throat. “you are so belittling to me! you think you’re hot shit, huh?”
“do you think i am?” he smiles at the corner of his mouth, and lets out a dry chuckle.
“i think i can’t fucking stand you.”
he looks intently at your face, and you swear, he glances at your lips.
and that’s when he leans in and kisses you. it takes you by complete surprise, and you pull back. you look at each other with a newfound yet curious lust. for a beat, for just a moment, you both look at each other with the same understanding. you want to kiss him again. you grab his face and pull him back in. the kiss was all-consuming. you feel a wave of energy course through you, as if every neuron in you was lit up. it was almost dizzying. he holds the side of your face, grazing past your ear and the holding the nape of your neck. every touch felt like fire.
he slides his tongue through your lips and deepens the kiss, which makes you melt more into him. you feel his arm wrap around your waist and moves you closer. you felt a rush of heat run through you, but then seonghwa pulls back slightly.
“let’s go inside?” he asks, his voice low.
with no reply, you both get out and you take him up to your apartment and to your room, closing the door behind you. he stands close to you, pushing you up against the door and kissing you up your neck and jaw until his lips meet yours again. he slots his leg between yours and presses himself against your heat, grinding as he devours you.
you turn to push him against the wall and sank down to your knees.
“fuuuck,” he groans, smiling as he slips his shirt off. “i like this view.”
“shut up, asshole,” you snap as you unzip his jeans, pulling them down. you look up to see a bulge pressing through his black underwear. god, you can tell it’s fucking big. you graze your fingers over it, teasing him. he lets out a heavy sigh, and you feel him twitch under you.
“i need you to touch me now,” he says grabbing the back of your head.
“yeah? or what?” you tease, just barely holding the length of him.
“c’mon princess,” he says with a cocky smirk. that fucking nickname. he moves his underwear down to reveal his hard cock hanging heavy by your lips. your mouth opens as you stare up at his length. he’s really big. “oh baby, are you already cock-drunk before even touching it?”
you sat in shock at the sheer size of him. he grabs your chin and moves himself closer to your face.
“open,” he says, tapping his dick on your lips. you open up to take him in your mouth, with him groaning at the warm, wet feeling.
twirling your tongue around his length, you earn a pleased moan from seonghwa’s lips. you take as much of him as you can in your mouth, nearly gagging but pushing through. you can feel him twitching in the back of your throat, which makes you hum with satisfaction.
“yeah,” he hisses, pulling his length out a bit and slowly thrusting back into your mouth. “take my cock just like that, baby.”
he pushes into your throat and pulls out again, this time out completely. a string of saliva still connects between his dick and your lips. he grabs himself and slaps it on your face by your open mouth, your jaw going slack and your tongue out to taste him.
“ahh, such a good girl,” he smirks down at you, slapping his dick on your face again. he grabs a fistful of your hair and pushes your mouth back on his cock.
you grab the base and start sucking like your life depends on it, going from the base to the tip, where you swirl your tongue around him. you regain a little control back, stroking and twisting up his length and sucking at his tip, and you can taste the precum pooling into your mouth. you feel him thrusting into your throat, tugging at your hair and pushing you deeper onto him. you can’t help but let out a whimper at the feeling.
“fuuuck, you like that, you little slut?” he tugs you off his cock by your hair. “you like when i fuck your mouth? keep doing that for me.”
you lost all control in that moment. you can only do as you’re told. you open your mouth like a good girl, and suck. he pistons into you, hitting the back of your throat over and over. tears prick the corners of your eyes, but you don’t care. you only want to please him. you moan onto his cock, forcing yourself to not gag from his size. the vibrations in your throat only drive him more mad, and you can tell from his deep moans and the hardening of his cock. he’s definitely close.
the grip around your hair tightens while he continues to bob you up and down his cock. your eyes flutter shut and tears start to fall down your cheeks, and you hold his thighs, nails digging crescents into his skin. he continues to hiss and moan in praise, loving the way you’re sputtering around his cock and leaving spit running down your chin. you take all the power left in you to lap at the underside of his cock, causing him to groan loudly and pull you off of him.
“open wide for me, princess,” he says, stroking himself above you. you obey and lay your tongue flat for him, ready to take his load. he lets out a long moan, spurting all around and into your mouth. you lick up every drop remaining from his tip as he comes down from his high.
just as you regain your composure, he’s helping you take your shirt off and kissing your spit and cum covered mouth. he pushes you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed. you fall back and let him slide your pants off, leaving you just in your bra and (fucking soaked) underwear. he falls to his knees as he goes down to kiss your inner thighs, inching closer and closer to your wet heat. when he goes to lick the wet spot in your underwear, licking a stripe up to your clit, you let out a small gasp.
“so sensitive,” he grins, lifting his head up and moving to take off your underwear. he grabs your thighs and pushes your legs back so your pussy is in full view for him.
“and so fucking wet for me…” he trails off before he dives down to devour you.
he laps at your wet hole, savoring the taste and the way it contracts around nothing. his tongue leads up to your clit, earning a sharp moan from you. liking the way you sound, he does the same pattern, making you whine with pleasure. he looks up to you, a moaning mess, and flicks at your bud teasingly, as if he’s mocking you. he hums in amusement.
“hold this,” he releases your leg for you to grab, keeping you spread open for him. he places his fingers on your clit, circling a bit before dipping down to your hole, just at the surface. you can’t help but clench. “so eager.”
he plunges his middle two fingers into you, your tightness gripping around him. he lowers his mouth back to your clit, swirling around as he begins finger fucking you. he’s eating you like he’s fucking starved. the stimulation had you gripping the sheets, whimpering.
he hums against your pussy, kissing and sucking at your clit. “mmm, fuck,” he smiles with a moan. “so good…”
you can’t help but grab the back of his head, gripping onto his hair while he works his fingers and mouth on you. he twirls his tongue around your clit all while curling his fingers in you, hitting that sweet spot.
“s-seonghwa,” you let out. “don’t stop, it feels so fucking good.”
out of defiance, he pulls off of you completely, your legs dropping down and making you ache from the loss of being filled. you can’t help but buck your hips up, desperate for him to touch you. he runs his hand back onto your pussy, spreading his fingers around your bud, avoiding touching it. and then, he slaps your wet cunt. you wince, partly from pain, but also from the stimulation. your bundle of nerves prickles and reddens the wet skin.
“mmm, dirty slut,” he laughs dryly, sadistically. “so desperate to cum. you want to cum for me?”
you nod, a little too impatiently.
“tell me.” he circles his fingers around your dripping hole again.
“fuck,” you let out, exasperated. “please, seonghwa. please let me cum.”
with a smirk, he drives his fingers back into you and latches onto your clit, working at a steady but meticulous pace. when your hips start grinding against his mouth, he holds you down, and continues working you. he swirls his tongue around your clit just right, and massages at your sweet spot. you feel your orgasm building in your stomach, like a cord about to snap. you feel heat rush through your entire body like a wave.
“i’m cumming,” you barely moan out, completely overtaken by pleasure. seonghwa relentlessly works you through it, moaning against you as you climax. he laps at your clit, trying to get every drop of your orgasm. he doesn’t stop until you have to grab his head and lift it.
he looks up at you with an intense lust in his eyes, and his mouth and chin soaked from your juices.
“you drive me fucking crazy,” you sigh as you watch him stand up and lean over you. he pushes you back to the head of the bed, on his knees and slotting between your thighs.
eating you out must have really turned him on, because his cock is hanging heavy between you, red and leaking with precum. he guides his dick up and down your sensitive cunt, gathering your wetness up to stimulate your clit. he groans looking down at the sight.
he eases his way into you, gripping your thighs to keep from snapping his hips into you. your mouth goes slack at the sensation, and you try to stifle back a moan. he inches his way into you, thrusting slowly until he bottoms out.
“fuck, princess,” he sighs, and he feels you clench around his length.
he leans forward to hover over you, slowly thrusting into your heat. he grabs the nape of your neck and kisses you deeply, letting you moan in his mouth. each thrust he pounds into you makes you melt into each other more, desperate to feel every inch of one another. the rolls of his hips hitting deep caverns of your cunt makes you dizzy from stimulation. the squelching sound of your wet pussy makes him pull away, now grabbing at your throat hard enough to where it hurts a little, but hurts so good.
“tell me you’re my little slut,” he spits at you, thrusting deeper inside of you.
“i-i’m your little slut,” you say between moans, completely lost in his trance. he has all the power over you.
he releases your neck and lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, making him reach a completely new angle inside of you. he pistons into you with determination, and reaches down to toy with your clit. you begin to see stars.
“you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, relishing the squeezing of your core.
his hips snap into a faster pace, all while mercilessly thumbing at your clit. the stimulation becomes all too much for you, and you feel yourself reaching another high.
“oh my god don’t stop, please seonghwa don’t stop,” you moan, unintentionally clenching around his length.
“yeah baby, cum on my cock,” he smiles down at you. “just like that.”
you can’t even think, all you can grasp is how good this man feels on top of you, how good he feels in you, how full you feel. your breath hitches as a wave of pleasure courses through your body, sending you into a blissed out state. your moans are matched by seonghwa, him fucking your contracting cunt, as if it’s begging to milk him dry. he continues to thrust into your overstimulated core until he releases his hot ropes of cum into you, completely filling you up.
he finally slows down his movement, both your breathing heavy and irregular. he pulls out of you with a hiss, watching your pulsing core as his release slowly spills out of you.
“jesus christ,” he groans at the sight. as if he couldn’t resist, he brings his head down and licks up your core, swallowing the liquid. once every drop is savored, he lifts up to level with you. he then places a kiss on your lips, suddenly soft, and very unexpected.
without a word, he grabs you by the waist and holds you close, allowing you to rest your head on his chest. he softly brushes his fingers through your hair.
and just like that, you both drift off to sleep with only one thing on your mind. what just happened, and what the hell is going to happen next?
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a/n: this is my first real fic on the internet yall!! im so new to this but i had so much fun. i hope u did too! stay tuned for part 2, but for now please leave feedback ♥ edit: part two is here :-)
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afterglowsainz · 10 days
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we used to have more | oscar piastri
part 2 part 3
pairing: oscar piastri x reader
summary: while working as community manager in formula 1 you have to follow a rule of no fraternization with the drivers, which keeps you and oscar from being together
fc: different girls from pinterest
warnings: some characters have names (because there’s only so many y/f/n that i can use), some mentions of oscar’s girlfriend as her ex
a/n: so i have this one shot called guilty as sin? (that you should totally go read) and i’ve been thinking about expanding on it a little because i keep getting ideas around the same concept so welcome to an au version of my own fic in smau format, enjoy!
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liked by oscarpiastri, lissiemackintosh and others
yourusername another season, another year of trying to make f1 fun for the girlies🎀
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lissiemackintosh do you just casually serve face like this on a random thursday?
yourusername occupational hazards 😝
username my girl is back !!!
username she’s so classy i love her
username i need the girlies that find her clothes to find everything in this dump asap!
username my icon
username y/n please stay in f1 forever thank you❤️
username oh to be a woman in f1
username FINALLY
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f1gossip mclaren’s oscar piastri was seen this weekend next to y/n y/l/n (the community manager of f1 social media) on different occasions. the people who sent us the videos said that oscar was the one that looked for her and approached her every time
tagged oscarpiastri and yourusername
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username yeah no
username pls lord let this be fake news
username he. approached. her. every. time.
username idk they look kinda cute together
username hoping and praying this was just for content or something
username nooo y/n is one of the f1 female icons, dating a driver would be such a setback for her 😩
username pls if she wants to date a driver then it’s her business, doesn’t take away everything she’s done for women in motorsports
username i love y/n and oscar separately, together …. uhmmm
username omg my faves!!! i hope they date they’d be so cute together 🥰
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oscarpiastri back to my roots in baku 🏎
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username good luck this year 🧿🧿🧿
username manifesting a championship as we speak 🕯
username ugh look at him i just KNOW a future F1 champion when i see it
username omg the ex girlfriend liked 🫣
username are we about to see episode 37283 of them getting back together after breaking up? 😅
username he looks so cute in that go-kart🥺
username let’s go oscar 🍾🍾🍾
landonorris 👊🏽👊🏽👊🏽
oscarpiastri 😉
username nonchalant king!
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lissiemackintosh’s instagram stories
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[caption 1: milesbaldwin, declanmurray] [caption 2: yourusername my 💗]
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yourusername always hustling as you can see 🧘🏽‍♀️
tagged milesbaldwin
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username so beautiful 🤩
username the outfitttt >>>
username my fashion icon fr
milesbaldwin working hard or hardly working? 🧐
yourusername you’re one to talk
milesbaldwin i’m being attacked here pls defend my honor declanmurray miguelsossa
lissiemackintosh y/n is right miles you took two naps in one hour while we were making content
milesbaldwin !!! declanmurray miguelsossa
declanmurray girls be nice to miles
milesbaldwin 😁
declanmurray it’s past his bedtime
miguelsossa 🤣🫵🏽 milesbaldwin
username i love their friendship😩
username wtf oscar’s ex liked her post and unliked it 😭
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f1gossip mclaren’s oscar piastri was seen this weekend with his ex girlfriend at the paddock together, emerging rumors of possibly getting back together after six months of breaking up
tagged oscarpiastri and exgirlfriend
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username not again
username does this man doesn’t know there’s other women alive?
username guys leave him alone he’s competing for the trophy of who can get back with their ex the most times
username but … but … y/n ….
username i thought they were together too 😩
username i honestly prefer him with y/n than back with his ex for the millionth time
username guys they’re holding hands… it’s over
username my guy really lost the game of getting over your ex
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maskedbyghost · 15 days
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jealous!Simon is on my mind 24/7
even better if the two of you are secretly fucking bc he is scared of feelings, commitment, relationships, and blah blah blah…
and simon wasn’t used to feeling jealous. he had trained his emotions out of him long ago, or so he thought. but as he stood in the doorway, watching you stroll across the shared kitchen on the base, your back turned to him, the name "mactavish" boldly displayed on the long-sleeved shirt you wore, something twisted in his chest.
the sight of you wearing his shirt, so casually, stung in a way simon hadn’t expected. he cleared his throat, trying to sound indifferent, but the edge in his voice betrayed him. "that’s johnny’s shirt."
"i know." was the only thing you said, smirking since he couldn't see your face. you knew exactly what you were doing, but in that moment, you didn’t care.
"why is johnny's shirt on you?" simon asked, his voice low but tight with tension. he tried to keep his tone neutral, but the undercurrent of jealousy and frustration was hard to hide. seeing you in johnny’s shirt stirred something uncomfortable deep inside him, a mix of possessiveness and insecurity that he wasn't used to feeling. he hated how something so simple made his chest tighten, how the sight of you in someone else’s name made him feel like he was losing control of the one thing he was afraid to admit he cared about.
"oh, he gave it to me because i was cold," you said, pouting slightly as you turned around to face the only man you ever wanted "he is such a nice guy."
simon managed a slight nod, his mind blanking from the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him. everything felt too much, too fast. meanwhile, you casually turned your back to him again, giving him another clear view of soap's name stretched across your shoulders as you began making your tea. the tiny grumble that escaped simon’s lips didn’t go unnoticed—it sent a wave of satisfaction through you, a small victory that made your day. you loved torturing him. and, after all, he did deserved it.
frustrated, he walked over to the sink, grabbing a glass of water, hoping it would cool the fire raging inside. but as he turned, his grip slipped, and the water splashed across your front. simon froze, watching the water drip down your shirt, half-shocked and half-relieved for the excuse to make the shirt disappear.
simon froze, his eyes glued to the water dripping down your shirt. after a beat of silence, he muttered, "well, guess you’ll need to take that off now. what a shame."
shocked, you watched as he put the glass down and left the room, still feeling the cold water seeping through the fabric. did he seriously just accidentally splash you and then walk out like nothing happened? that bitch.
*
later, as you slept in your bed, wearing your shirt this time, you stirred slightly at the feeling of someone’s arms wrapping around you. you didn’t even need to open your eyes or turn around—you already knew who it was. that familiar warmth could only belong to simon.
"simon?" you muttered groggily, barely able to make out the shape of him in the dim light. "what are you doing here?"
"shh, just sleep, pretty girl," he whispered softly, his breath warm against your ear. "i just wanted to apologize for how i acted earlier."
"i'm listening," you murmured, your voice barely more than a whisper.
simon’s arms tightened around you as he spoke. “i’m sorry for earlier. i know i’ve been pushin' you away and acting like an idiot. seein' you in johnny’s shirt... it just brought out this jealousy i didn’t want to admit i had. i hate feelin' like i’m not enough, or that someone else might have a piece of you. the truth is, i want you to be only mine. i can’t stand the thought of you being with anyone else. i just wanted you to know that, even if i messed everythin' up.”
“well, isn’t this a surprise? i didn’t realize it took me wearing johnny's shirt for you to admit your feelings.” you said with a hint of a smile, turning around to kiss him softly. simon sighed into the kiss, his arms wrapping around you with a sense of relief and affection.
simon pulled back slightly, his eyes intense as he rested his forehead on yours “i mean it, you know. you’re mine—only mine. no one else gets to touch what’s mine.” his voice was firm, yet tender, which made his words more meaningful.
"did you have a similar conversation with soap?" you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully.
simon grinned, leaning in even closer. “yep, told him to keep his wardrobe to himself unless he wanted a 'property of simon' label slapped on everything he owns.” he sealed his words with a gentle, lingering kiss, his lips tenderly brushing against yours as if to mark his claim in the most intimate way.
*
soap: so, i guess it worked?
y/n: your shirt got wet, but i got what i wanted. thanks, bestie.  
soap: i think i got worse treatment from simon than the shirt did, but anything for my two lovebirds.
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cupiare · 2 months
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i live w such a fucking weirdo 😭
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bpmiranda · 28 days
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Omg i read all your fics in a day they’re DELICIOUS. Could you write a fic about sharing a bed with logan? Mayhaps on a mission. But the reader thinks Logan is this grumpy mean guy who hates everything, but finds out he enjoys cuddles
Pureeee tooth rotting fluff please and thanks
I LOVE YOUR WRITING!
One Night, One Bed (Logan Howlett)
A/N: fluffy, 18+ reader, mean!logan, frenemies to friends? This one was really fun:)
While it was supposed to be a one day trip, you and Logan were unsuccessful in finding the mutant you were sent to bring back to the school. It took far longer to catch up to him because he kept getting scared by Logan brandishing his claws any time he wasn’t cooperating and he’d slip through floors or walls.
It irked you, sure, a whole day wasted and a failed mission, but Logan was in a worse mood than usual and you couldn’t stand him like this. “Are you going to mope the whole night? Cause we might as well get two rooms if that’s the case.” You mutter as he’s impatiently leaning against the front desk, huffing and puffing.
“Oh, so sorry, we only have one room vacant the rest of the night.” The motel attendant said apologetically as she heard your conversation. You frown and rake a hand through your hair while Logan rubs the inside corner of his eyes with a hand.
“That’s fine, we’ll take it.” He grumbles, placing some cash on the desk while you take the key she offers you and head to the room. “You forgetting something?” Logan calls behind you.
You turn and cross your arms over your chest, growing especially annoyed with his unhelpfulness today. “You scared our target away, you can carry the bags.” You say pointing at him firmly before you continue down the hall with the key, shaking your head furiously.
To make matters worse, you find only one bed in the room and sigh, rubbing your face with your hands as Logan comes in behind you. “You’re kidding me.” He groans, dropping your bags and placing his hands on his hips. “Well, you’re gonna have to suck it up and just share cause I’m not sleeping on the goddamn floor.”
“I’m an adult, Logan. I’m not some immature little girl too scared to share a bed.” You say as you grab your bag and take it into the bathroom with you to get ready for bed.
When you come back out in your pjs, Logan’s lying on his back in the bed. His eyes meet yours and you feel shy for some reason, which has never happened to you, and you have to assume it’s because you’re about to sleep next to the Wolverine. “What the hell are you staring at?” He asks in a snarky tone and you no longer feel timid.
“I hope you don’t shed.” You bite back with more snark and he rolls his eyes.
“Can you go ahead and fall asleep so I don’t have to keep talking to you.” He grumbles and you chuckle, lying on your side of the bed which you’re glad to see if still quite spacious even with him taking up two thirds of it.
As you’re falling asleep, you feel movement behind you and assume he’s repositioning himself to sleep better until you feel his arm slide around your waist. “What the hell are you doing?” You ask, your eyes flying open as he pulls you into his chest.
“Shut up, I can’t sleep any other way.” He mumbles and you scoff in disbelief. “It’s true, I’m not trying to cop a feel or anything.”
“Get off me, Logan.” You say, moving away from him and sitting up to look down at him. “Does that line usually work for you?” You ask and he rubs his face with a hand as he sighs.
“It’s not a line, it’s true.” He mutters, looking up at you as he tucks his arms behind his head. “I just like to cuddle when I sleep, don’t make it something weird.”
“Logan,” You laugh, not even upset anymore because the idea of it being true makes it so much more amusing. “It is weird. That’s not on brand for you at all.” You giggle.
Logan gives you a stern look and you try to stifle your laugh. A smirk pulls on his lips and he shrugs. “Fine, there’s another thing I can do to fall asleep quickly.” Your eyes widen and your mouth drops.
“You would not - right next to - you’d better not! Logan, I would kill you.” You say as you point a threatening finger at him.
“Then just let me hold you so I can fall asleep.” He insists and you let out a reluctant sigh before you lay back down, facing away from him. Logan moves behind you, pulling you into him gently, and you’re tucked into his chest which you feel rise and fall slowly.
As you lie awake in his hold, it doesn’t take him but three minutes to be out like a light and you smile to yourself. So the Wolverine likes to cuddle, hm, you think before you also drift off into a quite pleasant slumber.
In the morning, you wake up to find yourself on his chest, one leg interlocked with his leg as his arm is wrapped around you. You groggily lift your head off his bare chest and he stirs in his sleep, eyes fluttering open to see you sitting over him. “Did you drool on me?” Logan asks as he wipes his chest and you blush. “And you didn’t want to cuddle.” He smirks, earning a light smack on his abdomen that makes him laugh as you quickly get off the bed.
As you’re loading up the car to head back to the X Mansion, Logan closes the trunk and tugs on your hand before you get in the passenger seat. “I think it goes without saying that we don’t have to tell anyone about this part of the trip.”
You agree with a nod and smile at him, seeing him in a different light now. “Sure, I won’t tell anyone the Wolverine is a cuddler. I’ll take it with me to the grave.” You say as you cross your heart and Logan rolls his eyes before he puts on his brown aviator shades.
“And I won’t tell them you liked it so much it had you drooling.” He calls as he gets in the driver’s seat leaving you with a tightened jaw and an unimpressed look on your face before you also get in the car.
“Funny, very funny, Logan.”
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