#like why do i feel like i’m interrupting something

[misctf]

Make it Make Sense

Adam sat at his computer, finishing up a calculus assignment. He was trying to stay focused, but his thoughts shifted to his weekend plans. A few of his buddies were going to get together to see the football game, and he was looking forward to his club soccer game on Sunday. For all intents and purposes, it was going to be perfect.

“Are you serious?” The nasally voice of Adam’s roommate interrupts his thoughts, “I don’t understand, this doesn’t make sense.” Kelvin says, irritation soaking his words.

“What’s wrong?” Adam asks, turning towards his nerdy roommate. There were nerds and then there’s Kelvin. At first, he was relieved to have a roommate that was going to focus on their studies. But Kelvin proved to be more of a distraction than he could’ve ever expected.

“You know what’s wrong!” Kelvin says, “Look!” He slams his most recent lab report on Adam’s desk, “A 91%! That’s an A-.” He grumbles.

“That’s a great grade.”

“No, no, no! You got a 96%!” He continues, “How did you get a higher grade than me?”

You shrug, “It’s not that big of a deal. You’ll do better next time. And I know people that would kill for that grade.” Adam says, turning back to his assignment.

“No. That still doesn’t answer my question.” Kelvin adjusts his glasses, “How did you get a better grade?”

Adam runs a hand through his brunette hair, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re not supposed to be smart.” Kelvin retorts, “You like football and you play sports. Smart people don’t do that.” Adam raises an eyebrow, “You can’t be both.”

Adam chuckles, “Both?”

“A nerd and a jock!”

Adam smirks, “Alright, well why can’t I be both?”

“You can only be one.” Kelvin insists.

“Only one?” Adam chuckles. He wasn’t what one would consider a jock. Nor was he a total nerd. He always felt he was somewhere in the middle, “Hate to break it to you, but I’m not much of either. What do you think?”

Kelvin gave his roommate a curious look, clearly thinking hard about the question. He slowly smiles.

“Well, I guess all jocks have big muscles. And I mean, those are certainly impressive.”

Adam raises an eyebrow and looks down at himself. He could see his biceps and triceps putting strain on his shirt. And his pecs seemed to be jutting out a bit more than he was used to. He lifts a hand and feels his muscular chest. It felt unfamiliar to him.

“What...?”

“And I guess it makes sense that you never wear a shirt. Jocks hate hiding their muscles.”

The chill of the room air tickled Adam’s skin, his eyes narrowing as his bare torso is on full display. Wasn’t he just wearing a shirt? He looks up at Kelvin, clearly trying to make sense of what was going on.

“Wow, I mean, I knew your muscles were big, but now I can really see them.”

Adam grunted as his musculature expands. His pecs filling with more muscle, while his biceps and triceps grew larger and larger. He let out a pained grunt as his shoulders broaden and his back fills with muscle. He frame a now hulking mass of manly muscle.

“And I always found it odd how often you shaved your body hair. Always going on about how being clean shaven helps highlight your pecs.”

Adam looked down and watched as his dusting of chest and belly hairs vanish. His skin now clean-shaven and slowly staining with a rich tan. A tan he got from all his shirtless runs. Shirtless runs? He shakes his head.

“Kelvin, wh... something isn’t right, bro.” Adam’s eyes widen, “Dude, seriously! Cut this out, bro!”

“Say ‘bro’ and ‘dude’ ironically enough times and soon it becomes part of your vernacular.” Kelvin mocked, “But I doubt you’re worried about that. You care more about finding the right lighting for a quick flex.”

Adam gasps as he feels compelled. He slowly flexes his bicep, the lighting perfectly highlighting his musculature and abs. He can’t help but grin.

“And I can tell you care even less for hygiene.”

Adam grimaces at the musky smell that wafts from his exposed pit. But slowly, his grimace shifts into a grin. Something about his man musk always brings him a sense of joy. The smell of a real man. He barely registers his brunette hair becoming lighter, until the brunette becomes a blonde.

“Yeah, a blond jock. That’s what makes the most sense.” Kelvin continues, “But outside of flexing and enjoying your own stench, I guess it would make sense if you were obsessed with...”

“W-wait!” Adam says suddenly, “Please... Kelvin...” He looks desperately at his roommate.

“Don’t worry, it’ll all make sense.” Kelvin reassures, “Because jocks like you are dumber than a lamppost. Barely even able to do basic math. So obsessed with your body that you don’t have time to nourish your brain.”

Adam’s eyes widen as he can literally feel his brain shrinking. His intelligence, knowledge, and kindness quickly being overwritten. His school smarts replaced by gym routines and different poses. His empathy and kindness twisting into self-indulgence and narcissism. His eyes glaze over as they reflect his new IQ. A smirk forms on his chiseled face as brazen overconfidence overwhelms any semblance of decency. He looks up at Kelvin.

“The fuck you lookin’ at nerd?” He scoffs, “You like what you see, bro?” He flexes his biceps.

Kelvin smiles, “Don’t you have soccer practice?”

“Pfft soccer, bro? Really? Shit sport. I gotta lift.” Adam retorts. He looks over at his computer, “What the fuck is that?” He quickly exits out of his calculus assignment and stands up.

“Wait, Adam...”

“Adam? Nah bro. I’ve told you 100 fuckin’ times to call me AJ.”

“Right. AJ,” Kelvin says, “Don’t you need a shirt for the gym?”

The dumb chuckle that follows is music to Kelvin’s ears, “Nah bro, why’d I hide this?” He flexes again, “Trust me, the dudes and chicks at the gym dig this.”

Kelvin watches as AJ slams the door behind him. A grin forming on the nerd’s face. Everything made sense now. And while Kelvin celebrated his newfound comfort with reality, AJ took great pride in the looks he was getting from the people he passed by. Flaunting his muscles at every chance he got. His smaller brain satisfied with the attention. His dick twitching from the excitement of being lusted after. Because to him, this made sense. Who wouldn’t want to ogle over his hot bod? That’s right, no one.

[httpsdana]

you could do one where the reader is someone who doesn't like physical contact and héctor is very clingy so he's insecure about it.

Too Much~Hector Fort

*Pictures are from Pinterest*

enjoy <3

request from here

master list -> part 2

players/drivers I write for

It was hard for Hector not to reach out for y/n every time they were together. His fingers seemed to naturally gravitate toward hers, desperate for even the smallest touch. But she never seemed to welcome it. The way she'd subtly pull away or shift to create more space between them started to weigh on him.

At first, he thought it was just how she was, more reserved when it came to physical affection, but over time, that understanding turned into a gnawing insecurity.

Today was no different. They were both sitting on the couch, a movie playing in the background. Hector had his arm resting behind y/n, his body close enough to feel her warmth, but not close enough to touch. His fingers itched to rest against her shoulder, to stroke her hair, anything to bridge the gap between them. But he stayed still, the fear of making y/n uncomfortable freezing him in place.

“Are you enjoying the movie?” y/n asked, turning to look at him.

Hector forced a smile. “Yeah, it's good.” he murmured

But it wasn’t. His mind wasn’t on the movie. It was on her, on the space between them, on the tension that had been slowly building in his chest. He wondered if it was his fault, if he was too much. Was he suffocating her with his need for closeness? Was he doing something wrong?

Later, as the movie ended and y/n got up to stretch, Hector bit the inside of his cheek, hesitating. He wanted to tell her what was on his mind, but the words felt stuck, trapped behind the weight of his insecurity.

y/n noticed his quietness, but she was used to that. Hector wasn’t always vocal about his thoughts, but something about the way his shoulders slumped today felt off.

“You okay?” she asked softly, moving a bit closer to him.

His eyes flickered up to hers before he looked away, as if afraid she'd see the vulnerability in them.

“Yeah, I'm fine.” he said, his voice barely audible

That answer didn't sit right with y/n.

“You don’t seem fine.” she said

He hesitated, the conflict visible in his expression. After a moment, he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Do I… do I make you uncomfortable?” he said

Her brow furrowed confused.

“What do you mean?” she asked

“When I try to be close to you… like, physically,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like you pull away. Like maybe I’m too clingy or something.”

The hurt in his voice made hrr heart sink. She never meant to make him feel like that. “Hector, no—” she started but got interrupted by him

“I just… I don’t know. I’ve always liked being close to you, but I feel like you don’t like it. And maybe that’s just how you are, but it makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong.” he said, his voice weak and unstable

His words hung heavy in the air, and y/n realized just how deeply this had been bothering him. He was always so affectionate, always looking for little moments to be near her, and in her attempt to give him space, she hadn’t noticed the way he was shrinking into himself.

“Hector…” su said softly, sitting beside him again, closer this time. “You’re not doing anything wrong.”

He didn’t look convinced, his eyes downcast as he fiddled with his fingers, a nervous habit y/n hadn’t seen in a while. “Then why do you pull away? Why don’t you… I don’t know, why don’t you want to be close to me like that?”

y/n took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “It’s not that I don’t want to be close to you. I do. I just… I’m not used to being that way. I’ve never been the kind of person who’s comfortable with a lot of physical affection, but it doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.” she said, reassuring him

His eyes lifted slightly, as if hoping for reassurance.

“I care about you so much,” she continued. “And I’m sorry if I made you feel like I didn’t want to be close to you. It’s not you—it’s me, and I know that sounds cliché, but it’s true. I’m still learning how to be more open with that kind of affection.”

Hector remained quiet for a moment, processing her words. “So… you don’t hate it when I try to hold your hand or hug you?”

y/n shook her head. “No. I don’t hate it. I think I’ve just been too in my own head about it, worrying that I wouldn’t be good at it, or that you’d think I was awkward.”

His lips twitched into a small smile. “You? Awkward? Never.”

She laughed slighty, the sound lightening the heavy atmosphere between them.

“I’m serious! But I promise, I’ll try harder. I’ll try to meet you halfway, because I want to make you feel loved.” she said, her voice serious but soft

Hector’s eyes softened at her words, and for the first time that evening, he allowed himself to reach out, gently taking her hand in his. “That’s all I needed to hear.” he mumbled

y/n smiled, her fingers intertwining with his. It felt a little strange at first—being the one to hold on—but it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, it felt nice. His hand was warm, steady, and she realized how much she had been missing out on by keeping her distance.

“I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t want this,” she said quietly, squeezing his hand. “I didn’t realize how much it was hurting you.”

He shook his head, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “You don’t have to apologize. I just… I just didn’t want to push you away by being too much.”

“You’re not too much,” she said firmly, her gaze meeting his. “You’re exactly what I need. I just didn’t realize it until now.”

The vulnerability in his expression faded, replaced by something softer, warmer. He leaned in slightly, his forehead resting against hers, and for the first time in a long while, she didn’t pull away. She let him close the distance, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath as he held her gently, as if afraid she might slip away if he wasn’t careful.

“I love you,” he whispered against her skin, the words so soft, they were almost lost in the quiet of the room.

Her heart swelled with affection, and this time, she didn’t hesitate to say it back.

“I love you too, Hector.” she murmured back

[naturesapphic]

Hi! Would you be able to do a CEO!older!Natasha romanoff x Younger!fem!reader fic where reader is part of a startup advertising company while nat is the feared CEO of a well known advertising company and both met in a fancy wine bar only find out they’re business rivals in the advertising industry. Fluffy and some steamy smut please

Business rivals

CEO!older!natasha romanoff x young!fem!reader

Warnings: strict nat, fluff, smut

Word count: 1,002 :)

Walking into the bar, you were hit with the smell of alcohol and some type of fancy perfume. You walked up to the bar and sat down and ordered a strawberry martini. Feeling a presence behind you, you looked behind you to see a beautiful red head in a black suit and tie. “May I seat here?” She asks in a strict but kind voice. You gave her a smile and nodded your head. The red head smiled back and sat down next to you. “What are you having sweetheart?” The red head asked and you chuckled at the pet name she gave you. “A strawberry martini.” You replied and she shook her head. “Why don’t I buy you something stronger hm?” She suggested and you shook your head.

“No thank you. I need to stay as sober as I can. I have to go to work tomorrow.” You explained to her and she nodded in understanding. "I have work too but ! can just call out if I really need to." She smirked as she called over the bartender and ordered a bottle of vodka. Your eyes widen in surprise at her choice of alcohol and she just gave you a playful smirk and wink. The two of you talked for hours at the bar and learned so much about each other but what she was about to say now was something you weren’t expecting her to say. “I’m actually the CEO of stark advertising.” She confessed and you felt your whole face turn pale at her words. The redhead noticed how your whole demeanor change and she asked what was wrong.

“You work for stark advertising. You are Natalia Romanov, You are my rival!” You exclaimed with wide eyes and Natasha’s eyes widen themselves. “Shit…” she muttered under her breath while you sat there dumbfounded. “You are feared and an asshole..but getting to know you…the real you…I don’t see it…” you confessed to her and she looked into your eyes with a mix of mischievousness and softness in them. She got a little bit closer to you and carefully took one of your hands in hers, making you look up at her. “I really like you y/n. If you could just give me a chance…we can even go back to my place tonight if you want.” She suggested and you nodded, deciding to give her a chance.

~ at the house ~

You didn’t know how you were half naked on her bed with her on top of you but that’s what’s happening. Lips are connected and moving as you swiftly take off Natasha’s clothes. She was completely bare, her pale skin gleaming in the lamp light that was shining on the bedside table near the bed. Her short red hair that sits on her shoulders frames her face. You were in awe of her and she interrupted your admiration but leaning down and kissing your neck sloppily. You were a complete mess and she was barely doing anything to you. Natasha while kissing your neck and leaving hickies behind, was busy taking the rest of your clothes off, leaving you fully naked as well. Her bare body pressed up against your had you spiraling and not thinking straight.

Her gentle but yet firm touches and the smell of her hair, the softness of her body, the noises that come out of her mouth when you hit a certain spot, had both of you in a frenzy. Natasha was satisfied with your neck and started leaving kisses down to your breast. Your nipples harden by the coldness that filled the room and she took one of your pink buds between her lips, suckling softly. You bit your lip at the sensation and gently raised your hand to run your fingers through her red locks making her eyes snap up at you. She sucked on both of your nipples before kissing down to your stomach to your pelvis. She kisses all over your thighs until she got to your dripping cunt. Using her index and middle finger, she spread opened your lips, revealing your wetness and your throbbing hole.

Natasha smirked and licked her lips. “Is this all for me doll?” She said huskily that made your pussy clench. “Y-yes nat…all for you..” you whimper out, causing her to chuckle. She leaned down and attached her lips around your clit, sucking harshly. You let out a strangled breath and you shut your eyes tightly, feeling the pleasure all through your body, like a shock. She lapped at your pussy then went back to sucking on your clit, mixing the two together to get you to orgasm quickly. Which happened because not even a few minutes later you felt the tightness in your stomach and you let go. You came all in her mouth and Natasha greedily lapped it all up, not leaving a drop behind. You panted in the middle of the bed, recovering from the orgasm that nat just gave you.

“Fuck nat…” you breath out and Natasha let out a chuckle as she goes up and lays beside you, pulling your sweaty body to hers. “That was amazing.” You tell her as you roll over to face her, her arms still wrapped around your body. “I’m glad it was…” she said softly as she moves some of your sweaty strands of hair away from your face, causing your face to heat up. The two of you laid there admiring each other until y’all fell asleep in each others arms.

A/n: I haven’t been very good with endings but thank you @unlady-like-12-25-36 for the request! I hope you enjoyed it and that everyone else did too! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all :) special thing coming up this week ;)

[btskitten7]

Silent Grace| Chapter xiv: Love Lies

Ship: Min Yoongi x Fem reader

au/genre: Mafia!au

rating: M

wc: 3.3k

Chapter warnings: TW: anxiety mentions. Pregnancy mentions. Just a lot of uncomfortable conversations. Yoongi is starting to drink heavily.

summary: Yoongi isn't taking care of himself properly and is displaying some signs of depression and irrational behavior. It's mild in this chapter but please take care of yourselves. MOM FLASHBACK (finally right?) She will be getting a few more soon. Just a lot of uncomfortable conversations.

tagss: @shadowyjellyfishfest @baechugff @maunosorioh @shelylamc @princess-sunshyn @scuzmunkie @wanceu @coldcoffee2121 @maunosorioh @massivelyfullenthusiast @bangtan-famiglia-net

Inside a dimly lit room, the smell of strong cigars and hushed whispers permeated the atmosphere as everyone waited for Yoongi to sit at the head of the long, marble table. A chandelier loomed, casting wavering shadows over his stony face and his black suit, hair slicked back just above his shoulders, only a single strain hanging over his eyebrow, and a cigar hanging from his mouth accentuating his power and authority.

"You're not here for the scenery, so stop gawking and sit the hell down," commanded Yoongi, his voice echoing around the room. The men quickly took their places, their bodies tense in the pleather chairs as they did their best to avoid his piercing gaze. They already knew that for the past few weeks, Yoongi had been on edge. He has been stricter, meaner, and colder.

Ever since Min did his bullshit, Yoongi has been His fingers drummed an irritated rhythm on the table as he surveyed each one of them. Internally, they began to quake—from fear, anticipation, or maybe both—they couldn't tell.

"Been a tough week, boys, hasn't it?" he started, a sarcastic smile playing on his lips. "Losses left and right, seventy-thousand out from the casino, and don't even get me started on that botched shipment down at the docks."

His glare landed on the men responsible, his eyes flashing dangerously. "Now, care to explain why I'm hearing about these screw-ups from everyone but you?"

Crippling silence filled the room. One of them nervously tried to stammer out an excuse, his eyes darting from Yoongi to Seokjin and Jungkook then to the rich textured carpet underneath them. Yoongi interrupted him with a swift bang on the table, silencing the weakened protest.

"Excuses, excuses..." he spat, teeth gritted. "You know what, I'm sick and tired of it — tired of the incompetence, tired of the idiocy. How hard is it to do your job and report back to me without making a mess of it? Now is not the time to start pissing me off. I do not have the patience for it."

The harsh light from the chandelier threw Yoongi's furious expression into sharp relief. His fury was palpable, a wave crashing across the room, leaving a biting chill in its wake.

"From now on, any additional failures will not only result in a punishment for you but for the entire family," he declared, deadly calm. Every word dripped with poison. He meant every syllable. "If one of us fails, we all fail. You don't want to imagine how severe the consequences will be."

With that parting shot, he stood. The room snapped to attention, bodies rigid and faces pale. Yoongi left with Jungkook and Seokjin swiftly, their presence leaving behind a palpable tension and gnawing fear that had everyone exchanging worried glances as the door closed.

“Yoongi” Seokjin said as they headed down the hall.

“Yeah, Hyung?” Yoongi said calmer, more timid than just mere minutes ago.

Jungkook could feel the anxiety pouring from Yoongi, something he had never seen in him.

“Don’t you think it’s time for a break? Maybe we should grab a bite to eat on the way home.” Seokjin simply said.

“I’m not all that hungry. If you two would like to eat, then yes we can stop.” Yoongi said finally turning to face the two men.

“You should take care of yourself. You need to.” Jungkook said full of worry for the man he loved and looked up to as a brother.

“I’ll be okay. I’ll rest at home.”

But he didn’t.

You waited up for him all night. Not once did he step into the room after he came in to kiss you. He told you he’d be only an hour but he wasn’t.

He spent the whole night in his office displaying his true feelings. He cried, screamed, and kicked. He felt as if he was on a downward spiral. He didn’t feel safe. He didn’t have his security. He didn’t have his parents or his brothers. Of course, he knew that he had you, Seokjin, and Jungkook but he didn’t want them right now. He wanted nothing more than to be in his mother's arms. Hearing her tell him that everything would be okay while he cried. He wanted to be with his brothers. Seeing how their lives were. If they got married. If they had kids. He wished he and Hoseok were still friends. Just be normal. Or at least how it used to be.

He wished his father didn’t break him the way he did. He wished he could go back to a time when he looked up to his father. The world when in his eyes, he could do no wrong. The world made since then.

Now he doesn’t know which way to go. Who to even talk to?

~~~~~~~~~~

You stood in your shared bathroom, staring at the pregnancy test in your hand. Two lines, pink and clear, stared back at you. A positive result. You couldn't believe it. You had been feeling nauseous and tired for weeks, but you had brushed it off as stress from leaving your job and all the shit that’s been going on. Now you were faced with the truth.

Your mind raced as you tried to process the information. You wanted this. At least you thought you did. You just knew that right now was probably the worst time to even THINK about bringing a baby into this mess. Besides, the idea of being a mother seemed overwhelming and terrifying. Especially when you are in love with someone who has a lot of people out to get him and the ones he loves.

Especially when one of them is his father.

You took a deep breath and tried to calm down. You felt your heart beat out of your chest with worry. You knew Yoongi would do everything he could to make this as easy as possible but you also knew that now was not the best time. He wasn’t ready. You knew you had to figure out what to do. You couldn't just ignore the pregnancy. Whatever you decide to do, you need to do it as soon as possible.

You put the pregnancy test down and ran your fingers through your hair.

At-home pregnancy tests aren’t always 100% and could easily be misread.

You decided you should go to go to the store and grab a few more.

You throw the trash and the test into the trash once you hear your bedroom door open.

“Yn, are you okay?” Yoongi asked knocking on the door softly before opening the door.

You straightened up and nodded, forcing a smile on your face.

“Of course baby. I was just freshening up. Are you okay? You haven’t been to bed yet..” You asked looking at the tired look that painted his face. Yoongi nodded, his voice still hoarse from all the crying, screaming, and drinking he had done all night. “I’m fine baby. I’m going to nap pretty soon.”

You sighed and nodded “ I’m going to run to the store. Do you need anything?” You asked washing your hands.

Yoongi shook his head.

“No, I’m okay. What are you going to the store for? Maybe I can get someone to grab it for you while we’re out.” Yoongi said, pulling you to him with a smile.

You swore you were going to melt in his hands. His hugs always made things feel better. Like there was not one worry in the world. You did the same for him. Everything made sense.

If only that could be the case for you two.

You knew he would be an amazing father.

“No, it’s okay baby. I don’t mind. I’m going to order it on my phone and just pick it up.” You said looking up at him.

Yoongi nodded.

“Okay, baby. Do you want me to drive you there? I don’t mind.” Yoongi said.

You nodded.

“Okay, baby. Let me just grab my purse.” You smiled jogging to the room.

That’s when Yoongi noticed the bathroom light on, prompting him to go to turn it off. His eyes trailed to the bathroom trash. He noticed the pregnancy test and its wrappers. His mind started to spiral but he didn’t want to be obvious.

“Are you ready baby?” You asked grabbing his hand. He smiles and nods.

“Yeah, let me grab my keys. Wait for me downstairs.”

You nodded and kissed his cheek before heading out of the room.

Yoongi's eyes dropped down back down to the trash.

After you went downstairs, Yoongi stepped into the bathroom and closed the door.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a few minutes, Yoongi met you downstairs. His arms wrapped around your waist, his hands comfortably resting on your stomach which instantly sent shivers down your spine. You moved from his hold and turned to him. “Are you okay?” You asked.

“Are you okay?” he asked. His question to your question made you…uneasy.

“Of course. I’m fine. Why?” you asked.

“I’m just a little worried. It’s been a little over a week and we haven’t heard anything yet about the results. Have you gotten anything?” Yoongi asked.

“N-no. I haven’t heard anything yet..” you stuttered holding onto your purse.

Something is telling Yoongi that you already know the answer but he didn’t want to press you nor did he want you to think he was angry. He just nodded.

“Okay. Just when you get the results, tell me. As soon as you get them.” He said sternly.

You nodded but he pulled you closer to him and lifted your chin, kissing your lips.

Yoongi looked at you, holding your waist and his eyes started to water. You opened your mouth to say something but Yoongi shook his head.

“I’m going to protect you and our child if there is one. You don’t need to worry about that. Just please…don’t start hiding from me,” he started, his voice shaking softly “Be honest with me..are you pregnant?”

Your heart fell to your stomach and your hands started to sweat. Tears started to swell in your eyes as he continued to look at you with the most loving look and gently rubbed your chin. He knew the answer, quite frankly, he knew the answer days ago. And he knew the hospital had already sent them to you. Jungkook was able to get into the system and email him the results. He instructed Jungkook not to read them, he knew he was already invading your privacy. He didn’t want anyone else to.

“Come into my office.”

Yoongi’s eyes turned dark as he lowered his hands and gripped your wrist softly. He led you to his office which caught Seokjin off guard as he walked in.

“Yoongi” he mumbled to himself. “Please don’t do anything stupid.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’ve known for quite some time haven’t you?” Yoongi asked walking around his desk before sitting in his chair. His eyes never left yours. You were terrified. You didn’t think he would hurt you…

But you also didn’t think he’d be a mob boss either.

Your silence answered everything he needed to know.

Yoongi's piercing gaze bore into you, his words like icy daggers slicing through your composure. "Blossom, my love," he drawled, his voice dripping with sadness and worry, "I have eyes everywhere. Everywhere you go, every move you make, I know. Why would you think you could hide this from me for long? Why didn’t you just tell me?"

A bitter chuckle escaped Yoongi's lips as he crossed his legs and settled back in his chair revealing a painful sign, propping his elbow on the desk and resting his face in his palm. "Although I must admit, you're not particularly skilled at the art of deception," he continued, his eyes narrowing. "Your attempts to hide things from me are as clumsy as they are transparent. It’s quite cute. I can admire it."

Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath coming in shallow gasps. You had known that Yoongi was powerful, but the extent of his surveillance had never dawned on you until this moment. The way he can switch his demeanor is concerning for you.

You choked on your words. “Eyes everywhere? W-what does that even mean?”

“It means, anything I want to know? I will find it out whether or not you tell me or I find out on my own” Yoongi said blankly.

“Did you get the test results before me? Why would-”

“Why would you keep your pregnancy away from me?” Yoongi spat.

If you could make yourself disappear, you would. You felt as if you were getting scolded by a principal and you hated it.

He was your BOYFRIEND, not your father.

“I wasn’t keeping it from you, Yoongi” you started but he interrupted you,

“You weren’t telling me either. That’s my child unless it’s not-” You jumped up,

“DON’T-” You took a deep breath trying to control your emotions from spiraling. “Don’t say nonsense Yoongi. I haven’t been with anyone else and you know that”

Yoongi stood to his feet and leaned closer to you, “Then why the fuck did you keep this from me?”

“You’re going through a lot right now. I just didn’t think you could handle one more thing. A life-changing thing. It’s not like we can just throw this away. It’s a fucking baby. A fucking baby in your world of madness. I was trying to be considerate” You said watching him as he walked around his desk and stood over you.

“Considerate? Don’t fucking humor me, Yn.” He chuckled. “No one is considerate in this world, not to me.”

Your face softened. You could see the pain written on his face. He was hurt and you could understand why.

“Yoongi…I didn’t do it to be spiteful or to keep it from you. I just thought it would have been best if I waited.” You said looking up at him. “You have a lot on your plate, I just didn’t think you needed anything else. To be fair I haven’t known that long…”

Yoongi shook his head.

“Although, I can appreciate your efforts,” he starts, “Now is not the time to try to keep things from me. Not now. Not ever.” Yoongi finished. “This would be the worst time in the world.” He whispered.

You looked at him and adverted your gaze from him.

“I can’t handle any more secrets, Blossom…” Yoongi’s voice cracked. “Not anymore.”

Your heart broke into pieces. Seeing an otherwise strong man break like this destroyed you.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you Yoongi…you know that wasn’t my intention. But you don’t get to make comments like that as if I’d ever be with someone else…” You said equally as hurt as he felt right now. Yoongi nodded, disgusted with his comments towards you.

“You’re right…and I’m sorry. I just can’t figure out why you wouldn’t tell me. I know what you said but…this is important to me.” Yoongi said softly. “You are important to me, we are important to me”

You look at him and held his hand, “I know. You are just as important to me. I want the best for us but now we have a baby…”

“You can’t tell anyone,” Yoongi said cutting you from your thoughts.

“I guess I could understand but why not?”

“Because no one can know you’re pregnant. No one.”

Yoongi was serious and you could tell. He refused to let Namjoon or his father even get a hint of an idea that you were pregnant.

As if he didn’t have a better reason, he had to avoid his father at all costs.

“Not even Seokjin, Kai and Jungkook? What have they done?” You asked.

“Especially them. I know they won’t say anything but I don’t even want them to even have an idea.” Yoongi admitted. “Namjoon pulled the rug from right underneath me, I cannot give anyone else another chance to do it.”

You were honestly disappointed by this. This is probably the most normal your life is going to feel.

“You don’t sound too happy about this..” you said sounding defeated. Yoongi pulled you into his arms shaking his head.

“I’m happy. No, I’m very happy. I’m just nervous and I don’t want anyone to know just yet not until I can make sure I can trust them. I have a family to protect now.”

Hearing Yoongi talk like this gave you butterflies. Yoongi would be damned if his father fucked this up for him. You looked up at him with a broken smile and tears filling your eyes.

“I’m scared, Yoongi.” You whispered.

“I am too. I am terrified but we can do this. I believe in us.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next few days, Yoongi was on your ass about everything.

There was nowhere you could go that he didn't know.

It was as if he had a sixth sense, an innate awareness of your whereabouts.

"Blossom, why is it taking you so long to answer your phone?" He inquired, his voice laced with a mixture of concern and impatience.”Do I need to get you another one?”

You were deep asleep in your cozy bed, stirred slightly at the sound of your phone ringing. Groaning softly, you fumbled around for the device, your eyes still heavy with slumber.

"Baby...I was taking a nap. I’m just tired. I'm sorry. I'm not trying to ignore you." you mumbled, voice hoarse with sleep.

Yoongi exhaled a sigh of relief as he heard your voice, chuckling at how cute you sounded. The tension that had been coiling around his heart slowly began to unwind.

"I'm sorry, baby. I just needed to hear your voice." Yoongi said, his voice finally relaxed.

You smiled drowsily, heart melting at the sound of Yoongi's gentle words. You knew that he was constantly worried about you, and although at times it felt too much, you couldn't help but feel touched by his unwavering devotion.

"I love you, Yoongi," you whispered, “I’m okay” your voice soft and tender.

"I love you too, Blossom," Yoongi replied, his heart soaring at the sound of your confession.

In that moment, as you exchanged sweet nothings over the phone, the world around him faded away. All that mattered was the love you shared, a love that defied the boundaries of time and space.

“I’m only a few minutes away,” Yoongi said. “Okay, baby. I’ll wait up for you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yoongi’s mother hasn’t had much to say to Min since everything happened. She has finally lost everything. She lost her family. Her sons and she could hardly stand to even see her husband. She was honestly a shell of a woman.

Her family was everything to her, especially since she didn’t have it growing up.

~~~~~~

“Seo-Yeon”

She looked up at her mother with big beautiful eyes and the brightest smile the world had ever seen.

Seo-yeon loved her mother. More than anything, only after her father disappeared. She spent most of her time with her mother since her father left the family to pursue another one a few years ago.

She grew up as a daddy’s girl at heart. Seo-yeon was very close with her mother but her father was everything to her.

He would take her to the park, take her for ice cream, he would even buy her random gifts he would see as he would head home from work. He loved his family but he couldn’t help falling for a coworker.

What seemed normal one day quickly went to shit.

Now it’s just her and her mother. Trying to live a normal life.

“Are you ready to go to your father’s?” Seo-yeon’s mother asked. Seo-yeon’s smile fell as she slowly shook her head. “No” she mumbled.

Seo-yeon’s mother sighed, dropped her bag, and sat next to her, wrapping her arm around the small girl. “He misses you”

“He doesn’t” Seo-yeon shook her head.

“He does. He loves you so much. It’s just harder for him since he has a new baby. You are a big sister, you always wanted to be one.” her mother tried to cheer her up.

Seo-yeon just nodded and suppressed her feelings.

Like she always did 

[starryhyuck]

gentle touch. (m) — PATREON EXCLUSIVE

pairing: camboy!yuta x afab!pornstar!reader

words: 3.1k+

summary: you need someone to give you an orgasm. anyone will do, even a random camboy.

genre: smut

warnings: reader is a big name pornstar, yuta is a solo camboy, fingering, nipple play, squirting, anal play, creampie

this fic is exclusive to the $5 tier on my patreon, which you can access here! below is a tumblr preview

“S-Star?”

Your head snaps up at the sound of the name since you usually hear it falling as a moan from a stranger’s mouth. A man stands above you, jaw dropped open at the sight of you.

You’ve been through this before, so you flash a rehearsed smile at him.

“I’m sorry, I’m meeting someone for lunch. Would you like a quick photo-“

“I-I’m the camboy,” he interrupts you, blinking warily. “Were you the one I’ve been speaking with online?”

“Oh,” you say shyly. “Yes, that would be me. It’s nice to meet you, um-“

“Yuta,” he finishes. You gesture to the seat across from you in this private coffee shop and he stumbles to take it. He grins nervously. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to say your stage name out loud like that. I was just shocked, that’s all. I mean, you’re one of the biggest pornstars in the industry.”

You laugh. You hope he’s not planning on making fun of you now that he knows this is clearly below your pay grade. You decide to be frank with him since the cat’s out of the bag.

“Well, if I’m being honest, I’ve been having a lot of trouble with my work lately. I’m stuck in a rut in terms of my orgasms, and I haven’t properly been satisfied by someone else’s touch in months. It’s why I responded to your ad. I’m hoping you can shake me out of this dry spell.”

He mulls over your words, seemingly pulling himself out of the starstruck expression he had on moments earlier. He studies you carefully before humming softly.

“I’d be happy to help you. I can’t say I’m all that confident in getting the Star to fall apart in my bed, but I’m very willing to try.”

You giggle. “I appreciate that. So tell me about being a camboy, how is it different? I’m really not familiar with that scene.”

He shrugs mindlessly. “For starters, we don’t require any of that fancy equipment they use on sets. Just a phone camera operates completely fine. And I think most of the couple videos I’ve seen draw down to the intimacy of it — if you don’t mind me saying, I believe that’s what you’ve been missing from your career. You don’t feel anything towards the people you’re fucking. You show up, the director tells you what to do, then you go home.”

You frown. “And being a camboy is the opposite of that?”

“You could say that. The audience who watch amateur couple videos don’t want to hear fake moans and perfect lighting. They want to see a real couple fucking like animals because they have a true carnal desire for the other. I don’t want anything to be a lie in my video. If something’s not working for you, I want you to tell me.”

You raise an eyebrow. Judging by the stern look on Yuta’s face, you gather that he’s deadly serious about this. You’ve never had a co-star be so concerned about your pleasure. The contract they receive doesn’t have an underlying clause that states you need to feel good in order for them to get paid, so it normally isn’t their first priority. As long as the camera gets a good cum shot and a smile on your face, everything else is golden.

“I can do that. So should we head back to your place?”

“Y-You want to film it tonight?”

“It’s been months, Yuta. I can’t wait any longer or I’ll explode.”

want to read the rest? access the $5 tier on my patreon here!

[sweet-villain]

A New Tune~ Eddie Munson

Summary : You thought you were just a guitar tech for Eddie Munson, at least that's what you thought.

Older Eddie

The faint vibrations of the bass thumped through the narrow backstage corridor. You crouched by the stack of gear, wiping your sweaty palms on your jeans. Eddie Munson stood a few feet away, surrounded by a gaggle of eager girls. They laughed, flipping their hair and tugging at his sleeve.

"Come on, Eddie! Just one picture?" A girl pouted, leaning against him.

Eddie grinned, his signature charm lighting up the dim room. "Sure, but only if I get the best angle."

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, heart pounding. Those moments in the shadows gnawed at you. You shuffled forward, lip caught between your teeth.

"Eddie! Can I... can I help you with the guitar?" Your voice barely broke through the laughter.

He turned, eyebrows climbing in surprise. "What? Yeah, totally!"

His gaze lingered on you, not dismissive like before.

"Nice to see you actually speak," he laughed, shifting closer.

You forced a smile. “I thought maybe you’d want—”

“Love that tone. Can you show me how that riff goes again?”

You drew in a breath, feeling the weight of his eyes. “Yeah, it’s like this…”

The world blurred around you. Eddie leaned in, captivated, as your fingers danced over the strings.

The world blurred around you. Eddie leaned in, captivated, as your fingers danced over the strings of the battered guitar resting in your lap. The melody unfurled in the small space, weaving into the air thick with anticipation.

Your gaze flickered back to Eddie, ensuring his every reaction matched the rhythm of your heartbeat. His lips curved into an impish smile, the kind that sent a shiver down your spine. The weight of the girls’ presence faded into the background.

“Damn, that’s killer,” he said, his voice dropping a notch. Appreciation sparkled in his eyes. “You’ve got some serious talent.”

A flush coated your cheeks, but you fought to hold his gaze. “It’s nothing compared to what you do on stage.” 

Eddie shrugged, his casual demeanor a stark contrast to the pulse of excitement thrumming in your veins. “Nah, you’re just as important. Without you, I wouldn’t sound half as good.” 

The flutter of your heart quickened. “You really think so?” A quiet vulnerability slipped into your words.

“Of course!” He chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “Whose ears do I play for if not yours? You keep me grounded.”

The laughter of the other girls faded to an echo, lingering like a ghost. You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, the small seed of confidence pushing through the roots of your timidity. “I just want to make sure everything sounds perfect for you."

“Perfect's a stretch,” Eddie mused, scratching his chin. “But we keep chasing it, right?” 

“Right,” you echoed, a spark of excitement flickering in your chest.

The energy crackled between the two of you, threads of connection weaving tighter. 

“Ever thought about playing on stage?” he asked, leaning against the wall, arms crossed casually. 

“Me?” Your heart raced at the implication. “No, I’m just…your guitar tech. I don’t think I could handle the spotlight.”

He tilted his head, considering you, eyes glimmering like stars against a midnight sky. “You handle the pressure backstage just fine. Why not out there?”

“What ifI mess up? People would see me, not you.” The thought of a crowd's gaze made you shiver, the weight of judgment pinning you down.

Eddie stepped closer, the space between you shrinking. “Look, I’ve messedup more times than I can count. You learn from it. That’s the beauty of it.”

You darted your eyes to the floor, biting your lip. “Still, I—”

“No more ‘still’.” He interrupted, voice firmbut playful, his smile unwavering. “You have something to say. Let it out. The only person holding you back is you.”

A deep breath filled your lungs, pushing against the walls of self-doubt.

“I’m just not used toputting myself out there.”

Eddie’s gaze held steady. “Every rock star started somewhere. You don’t find your voice hiding in the shadows.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, weighing his words. “But look at you!You beam under the lights while I... I’m just nobody.” 

Eddie stepped closer, his brow creasing with sincerity. “Hey, don’t say that. You think you’re a nobody? The girls out there wouldn't grab my attention if they didn’t see the shine in you. Every time I look at my guitar tech, I see someone a lot more interesting than half of the crowd out there.”

Your cheeks burned with warmth, a mix of embarrassment and electricity. “Really? You mean that?”

“Absolutely.” His grin turned lopsided, effortlessly charming. “You’re the one who makes the magic happen. Without you, I’m just some dude strumming a guitar.”

You lowered your gaze, fighting the urge to smile at his compliment, fear creeping up to curl around your heart. “That’s a lot of pressure,” you mumbled, your fingers brushing over the guitar strings absentmindedly. “What if I flake out?”

Eddie shrugged, the nonchalance brightening his expression. “Then you flake out. We all do. But you pick yourself up, shake it off, and go again. That’s the gig.”

He stepped back, allowing you to take a breath. Themoment hung in the air, thick with unspoken possibilities. The chatter from the group of girls faded into white noise—a world away. 

“So, when’s your first show?” Eddie casually asked, leaning against the wall, a teasing glint inhis eyes.

You shifted, a sheepish laugh escaping your lips. “Well, um, I haven’t really thought that far ahead.” 

“C’mon,” he urged, nudging your arm lightly. “You’ve got to have atleast one song stuck in your head that you’d want to perform.” 

You hesitated, fighting the flutter in your stomach. “Well, there’s one…” 

Eddie raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “Oh? Whatis it?” 

You felt the heat creep back up your neck. “It’s...a bit silly.” 

“Hey, silly is my specialty,” he teased, leaning in closer, eyes sparkling with genuine interest.

C’mon, I won’t judge.” He lifted his hands in surrender as if to prove his point, the corner of his mouth curling into that impish grin.

You bit your lip, weighed down by the nervous energy surging through you,

“It’s… um,” you stammered, feeling the words catch in your throat. “It’s that one by The Cranberries. ‘Zombie.’”

Eddie’s brows shot up. “No way! That song kicks ass.”

Your cheeks flared with warmth. “You think so? I mean, it’s kinda heavy… definitely not the usual upbeat vibe for a show.”

His laughter rolled through the air, warm and contagious. “Sometimes heavy’s exactly what you need. "

You felt a rush of courage at his enthusiasm, your fingers drumming lightly on the guitar. “Do you really think I could pull it off? I mean, the crowd would probably prefer something, well, shinier.”

“No way,” Eddie shook his head, confidence radiating from him. “They crave authenticity. You get up there and pour your soul into ‘Zombie,’ those girls out there? They’d eat it up.” 

You squared your shoulders, emboldened by his fiery endorsementthat rolled through you like electricity. “You really believe I could do it?”

Eddie crossed his arms, leaning closer, his confidence nearly tangible. “You need to get over this nerves thing. Just step out there, show them the real you and you’ll have them hanging on every word.”

Your heart raced at the thought. “What if they don’t buy it? What if they see the ‘nobody’ I feel I am?”

Eddie shook his head, a firm determination in his gaze. “They'll see the person who’s been behind the curtain, creating magic, someone they could never find in a sea of faces out there. You have grit, and trust me, they’ll feel that.”

You swallowed hard,an electric pulse igniting within you. “You really think I can be that?”

Eddie stepped closer, closing the gap, his intensity holding you captive. “I know you can. You just have to take the leap.” 

The air between you crackled, anticipation thick enough to slice. You squeezed the guitar’s neck, fingers brushing the worn wood. “You make it sound so easy.”

Eddie chuckled, tilting his head as if weighing his words. “ It’s not easy. But you’ve already taken the first step by even considering it. Most people wouldn’t even dare think about it.” 

“Maybe they’re smart,” you muttered, hiding your smile behind your fingers.

He laughed, thesound deep and genuine, filling the space between you with warmth. “You don’t get it. It takes guts to want more. To want to play. That’s where the magic begins.”

The laughter faded, leaving a charged silence humming in the air, a delicate tension threading between you and Eddie. You let his words settle, the weight of them both exhilarating and terrifying. 

“Maybe I could try,” you said, the thought blossoming with a shy sort of determination.

“Maybe?”Eddie raised an eyebrow, a hint of a playful challenge dancing in his gaze. “Come on. That’s not a ‘maybe’ kind of idea. Just feel it. If you want to do it, say it. Confidence is a wholenew level of magic.”

“Okay,” you took a breath, serious conviction seeping into your voice. “I want to do it.”

The spark in Eddie’s eyes ignited, and he clapped his hands together. “Now we’re talking ! That’s the spirit! You’re going to blow them away.” 

His enthusiasm surged through you like a livewire, electrifying and intense.

The weight of your self-doubt transformed into a challenge, and for a moment, you felt invincible, as if you could crumble the walls that enclosed you and stand under the spotlight, breathing life into the lyrics that weighed on your heart.

Eddie leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, eyes glinting with mischief. “What the plan, rock star?” 

Your heart skipped. “The plan?” 

“Yeah, the plan. You gotta set the stage for this big reveal.” 

You blinked, caught off guard. “I’m not sure... I mean ...I didn’t think that far ahead. I just... wanted to play.”

Eddie’s laughter poured from him, bright and infectious. “And that’s exactly where we start! Step one: pick a spot. What venue feels right for the first time? An intimate crowd? Or should we go big and give them a show?”

You furrowed your brow, ruminating on his words. “Maybe something smaller? A local bar, where it’s just a few friends? I can ease into it without feeling overwhelmed.”

Eddie nodded, his eyes glinting with approval. “A solid choice. You get the comfort of familiar faces without the pressure of a stadium crowd. Plus, you control the environment.”

“Exactly,” you said, your voice steadier than before. “I know the bar’s regulars. They’re a pretty chill crowd.” 

Eddie leaned closer, enthused. “Then, it’s settled. You’ll perform at the bar. When’s your first set? We need to prepare.”

“Set?” The word felt foreign on your tongue, almost like a challenge. “I’ve never performed before. How can I have a set?”

“Start simple,” Eddie encouraged, his voice soothing yet firm. “Two or three songs max. Just enough to get your feet wet.” 

You nodded slowly, piecing the fragments together. “Okay, so I could do ‘Zombie,’ andmaybe something from Joan Jett? I’ve been practicing ‘I Love Rock ’n’ Roll.’ It’s fun.”

“Now we’re cooking!” Eddie’s enthusiasm poured over you, washing away the lingering nerves. “Start with your comfort zone, and then let them see the fire within.” 

“Fire?” The thought ignited a spark of curiosity. “I don’t know about that.” 

He stepped closer, sincerity flooding his expression. “Trust me, everyone has fire. Yours just hasn't been lit yet. You’re ready to unleash it.” 

You tucked your hair behind your ear, feeling the weight of his words. "And how do I do that?"

"Channel everything—the nerves, the excitement—let it all explodeinto the music. When you step on that stage, feel every heartbeat, every breath. Don’t just sing the lyrics; live them,” Eddie urged, eyes locked on yours, fierce and passionate.

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat. “That sounds easier said than done.”

Eddie chuckled, tilting his head in that infuriatingly charming way that made your heart skip. “Maybe. But look at it this way: what have you got to lose? It’s justa few songs in a local bar. If it flops, it’s a learning curve, right? And if it succeeds?” 

His smile widened, a challenge hidden in the corners of his mouth. 

The stakes felt tangible, the thrill pricklingthrough your veins. Eddie leaned against a stack of amplifiers, his presence warm and inviting, like a campfire on a chilly night.

“If it succeeds,” he continued, his tone low and intimate, “you’ll know you’ve taken the leap into something incredible. Something that could change everything.”

You contemplated his words, the gravity of them sinking in. “You really think I can do this?”

“Absolutely.” Eddie’s confidence enveloped you like a shield, a reminder that he believed in you, even when you struggled to believe in yourself.

You inhaled, the weight of possibility resting inside you like a coiled spring. The buzzing rhythm of the world outside the cramped backstage seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in thatmoment. 

“Hey,” Eddie said, tilting his head. “You’re going to be great. Just stay true to yourself.”

You nodded slowly, the pulse of his reassurance echoing within you. “Yeah, true to myself…” The phrase caught in your mind, swirling through your thoughts as if it held the key to unlocking a door you had kept tightly shut.

You blinked, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Thanks, Eddie.” The words slipped out before you fully grasped the weight of what he had just offered. Gratitude flooded your chest, blooming into a soft hope, like sunlight piercing through a tapestry of clouds.

“Don’t mention it,” he replied, rummaging through his bag, revealing a small, battered notebook. He flipped through the pages, the sound of crinkling paper breaking the stillness between you.

“Here,” he said, finally pausing on a page filled with scribbles. “These are my ideas for songs—a collection of half-formed lyrics and catchy phrases. He gestured for you to come closer. 

“Are these yours?” you asked, peering over his shoulder at twisted lines and chaotic doodles. 

“Yeah,” he shrugged with acasualness that belied the pride in his voice. “Some are just thoughts that hit me in the moment. Others? Well, they might turn into something someday. Or not.” 

You traced the scrawled lyrics with your finger,reveling in the chaotic beauty of his thoughts. Words trailed across the page like a stream of consciousness—each line pulsed with promise.

“‘The shadows dance, whispers in the night,’” you read aloud, lifting an eyebrow.

Eddie leaned in closer, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You're a poet now,” he quipped, nudging you with his shoulder. 

You chuckled, the playful banter easing the tension coiling in your stomach. 

"Is that your idea of a catchy phrase?” 

“Absolutely,” Eddie shot back, a grin flickering across his lips. “It’s all about creating the right vibe. New song, right there. Rhymes and all.”

You flipped through the pages, the ink smudges reflecting messy brilliance. “These are incredible, Eddie.” The words flowed out without thinking. “They feel so raw.”

“Raw is good,” he said, leaning back, satisfaction dancing in his eyes. 

It captures the essence of where we come from, the struggles we face. It’s the truth that resonates.”

You traced your fingers over a line, feeling the weight of his journey in those brief phrases. “How do you turn something like this into a fullsong?”Eddie leaned back against the amplifiers, a thoughtful frown etched on his face. “It’s about feeling it, really. Take those lines and let them brew. You build around the feeling—the music, the rhythm. 

You let the emotions guide you. Sometimes, it even gets messy, but that’s where the magic lies.” 

You met his gaze, warmth flooding your cheeks. “I’m not sure I’d be able to capture that… messy magic.” 

“Why not?” Eddie's voice carried a playful challenge, twinkling eyes locked onto yours. 

“I guess I’m just... careful. I don’t want to mess up, and if I let it all out, who knows what might happen?”

“Messing up is part of the process,” Eddie insisted, leaning forward, enthusiasm radiating from him. “It’s not a crime; it’s how you find what works. Let the chaos unfold. That’s where the truth hides.” 

His words hung in the air, a challenge wrapped in encouragement. You felt a thrum of possibility surge through you, stirring deep within, resonating with a truth that felt so foreign yet tantalizing. 

You glanced at the scattered chaos of lyrics and notes before meeting Eddie's gaze once more. "You really enjoy this process, don’t you?" 

Eddie's grin widened, his enthusiasm contagious. “Oh, I love it. It’s like unearthing buried treasure. Each line tells a story, every note transforms into a heartbeat. You get to put yourself out there, bare and exposed

He smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting with genuine delight. “Absolutely. It’s discovery. It’s revealing pieces of yourself that often remain hidden. When you share it, you connect with others in ways that surprise you.”

You nodded, letting his words settle into you, revealing the layers of complexity in music you had never fully grasped before. This was more than just performing; it was a dance of vulnerability and strength, a way to let the echoes of your soul resonate beyond the confines of your fears.

“So,” Eddie leaned back, folding his arms behind his head, the casualness of his posture radiating confidence. “ So," Eddie leaned back, folding his arms behind his head, the casualness of his posture radiating confidence, "what’s the next step? You have the venue set, the songs lined up. Now you need to plan your attack. What 's your first move? How will you snatch that spotlight?"

You sank back against the stack of amps, feeling exhilaration surge through you like an electric current. “Um, well... I guess I need to practice, right?”

Eddie tilted his head, a playful glint in his eyes. “Practice? Pfft. Who needs that?” He feigned disinterest, but the teasing smile gave him away. 

“Very funny,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “I definitely need to practice. If I don't, I might just crumble up there. I mean, what if I forget the words?”

Eddie leaned in, propping his chin on his hand. “Remember what I said? It’s not about the words. It’s about the feeling behind them.” 

You allowed his words to seep in, knitting together the tendrils of encouragement tangled inside you. 

“Just imagine the crowd nodding along, lost in the vibe,” he added, his voice wrapping around each word like a soft embrace. “You think they’ll care about a lyric slip? They’ll be feeling the energy you bring.”

Your heart raced at the thought. “And if I trip over my own feet?”

“Welcometo being human!” Eddie grinned, shrugging casually. “It happens to the best of us. You just keep going. If you trip, you turn it into a dance move. Make it part of the show.”

You laughed, imagining yourself tripping spectacularly, somehow making it part of a rock anthem. “Right, a ‘whoops’ moment turned ‘show-stopping’! That’d be my luck.”

Eddie bit back a chuckle, clearly enjoying the image. ““You’d become a legend!” Eddie laughed, his eyes sparkling. “The clumsy rock star who owned the stage despite tripping over her own feet.”

You shook your head, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“A legendfor all the wrong reasons.” 

“Who cares about the reasons?” Eddie shot back, leaning forward with an intensity that made your heart race. “What matters is the passion. If you go out there with fire in your soul, they’ll remember you for that, not the little mistakes.”

Your lips curled into a smile, emboldened by his fervor. “You’re really something, you know that?”

“Just a guy with a guitar and too much time on my hands,” he says.

You shook your head, refusing to let him downplay the moment. “No, seriously. You take the time to help people see their own potential. "

Eddie chuckled, shrugging off the compliment, but the hint of color painted his cheeks.

“Hey, someone’s gotta light the fire,” he said, leaning against the nearby stack of amps, the confidence in his casual posture making you feel like you were standing under a spotlight all your own.

“Right?” You nodded, biting back the urge to blush. The sincerity in his voice pushed away the faint doubts lingering in the back of your mind. “It’s just… every time I think about it, I get so nervous. You know?”

Eddie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the focus shifting entirely onto you. “Nerves are what make it real. It means you care. The moment you stop feeling nervous is the moment you stop pushing yourself. You want this, and that’s why it’s scary.” 

You let his words sink in, the truth echoing in your mind like a chorus. 

So, it’s okay to be nervous?”

“Absolutely,” Eddie leaned back, a triumphant smile lighting up his face. “Every great artist feels it. It’s part of the game. Embrace it.”

“I suppose.” You mulled over his encouragement, the weight of your apprehension slowly shifting on its axis. “But I still feel so small, like a tiny fish in a massive ocean. What if I drown?”

Eddie leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, eyes steady and earnest. “The ocean can be overwhelming, true. But you’ve got the tools to swim. You’re not just any fish; you’ve got a voice that can carry. Besides, you’re not alone. I’ll be right there with you, cheering you on, guiding the way. "

“What if I mess up, though?” You knew the question hung heavy in the air, the nagging worry bubbling up like a stubborn tide. “What if I stand there, frozen, and the whole bar goes silent?”Eddie’s expression softened, genuinely serious for a moment. “Then you take a breath. Look around and find someone who believes in you. Focus on the music, not the crowd. You’re there to share something beautiful, not to perform for strangers.”

His voice tethered your racing thoughts, grounding you in an ocean of overwhelming emotions. You took a deep breath, the encouragement rolling over you like a warm wave. “It’s just so terrifying,” you admitted, heart thundering in your chest. 

Eddie leaned closer, the intensity in his eyes unwavering. “I get that. Fear is a powerful beast. But think about it—what’s on the other side? Think about the stories you’ll have. The laughter, the connection, the feeling of pouring your soul into song and sharing it with others. You get to create something real.”

The warmth of his words settled around you, wrapping you in a haze of possibility. “And if it’s bad then I learn. If it’s bad, I get up and try again,” you finished, allowing the truth to hang between you. The fear still throbbed in your chest, but somewhere in that crowded space, a flicker of hope ignited, small yet persistent.

Eddie’s grin widened, and he leaned back, hands behind his head like he’d accomplished something monumental. 

"See that? You’re already thinking like a performer. It’s all about possibility. Don’t let the fear drown it out." 

You leaned back against the wall, tapping your fingers nervously against the guitar body, the pulse of uncertainty still thrumming in your veins. “You really believe I can turn this fear into a strength?”

Eddie pushed off the wall, rocking on his heels. “Absolutely. Fear isn’t the enemy; it’s a sign that you’re on the edge of something great. If you approach it right, it becomes your fuel."

You tilted your head and considered his words, feeling a flicker of understanding ignite deep within you. “So, instead of being afraid, I should lean into it? Let it fuel my fire?”

“Exactly!” Eddie’s enthusiasm crackled in the air like a livewire. He bounced on his heels, energy radiating from him. “You take that fear and turn it into raw power. Channel it into your performance. When you stand up there, your heart racing, let that energy inspire the audience.

They'llbe right there with you, feeling every note and word, riding the waves of your emotion.”

A determined grin spread across your face, the idea taking root in your mind. “I can feel it already, Eddie. Like the adrenaline of jumping off a cliff, knowing there’s water below.”

“Exactly,” Eddie nodded. “Once you leap, you find out what you’re truly capable of. That rush? That’s invincibility.”

You leaned back against the amp, a flicker of adrenaline igniting under your skin. “What if I leap but hit the rocks below instead?” 

Eddie’s expression softened, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Then you’ll learn from the impact and climb back up. It’s about resilience, too. Each fall teaches you something new. Every bruise becomes a badge, showing you survived.”

You took a moment, letting his words wash over you, smoothing the edges of your

Excitement bubbled within you, battling against the lingering doubts. The rhythm of your heartbeat synced with the pulse of newfound determination that thrummed deep inside.

“Okay,” you said, lifting your chin. “I choose to leap. No rocks will hold me back.” 

Eddie clapped his hands together, a flourish of triumph filling the air. “That’s the spirit! Let’s keep the momentum rolling. What's next?”

You cast your gaze around the cluttered backstage, cluttered with cables, half-empty water bottles, and stacks of equipment that hummed with potential energy. Your surroundings felt less intimidating now, just artifacts that contributed to the ambiance of possibility.

“Okay,” you began, your voice steadier, “I guess the next part is actually picking my set list.”

Eddie leaned against a stack of amps, fingers drumming against his thigh. “Absolutely! You need a killer set list. The songs should flow together, create that perfect vibe.” He tilted his head, considering. “What do your gut instincts say?”You furrowed your brow, feeling the weight of his question. “I think… I definitely want to start with ‘Zombie.’ It’s powerful. Then maybe ‘I Love Rock ’n’ Roll.’ They’re different enough to let my personality shine. 

“Perfect,” Eddie grinned, nodding as if you had just announced a secret plan to take over the world. “That’s a solid opener and a crowd-pleaser for sure. But for the last song,

what are you thinking?” 

You rubbed your chin, pondering the idea. “I could go with something more emotional, something to leave a lasting impression. Maybe something like ‘Landslide’ by Fleetwood Mac?” 

Eddie’s eyes litup, a mix of surprise and admiration brightening his expression. “Now we’re talking. That song is beautiful and heartfelt. Perfect for a powerful closer.” 

“Really?” You felt a surge of confidence at his enthusiasm. “I wasn’t sure it would fit with the other two.” 

Eddie raised his brows, genuinely impressed. “You’re missing the point. ‘Zombie’ packs a punch, ‘I Love Rock ’n’ Roll’ speaks to the fun, and ‘Landslide’ wraps it all up with depth and reflection. It’s like a journey through your emotions, and by the end of it, they’ll feel all the layers you’ve built in that short set. It’s brilliant!”

Your heart raced,the swell of excitement eclipsing any remaining traces of doubt. “I can't believe I actually created a set list.”

Eddie’s pride flickered brightly. “You did more than that. You created a moment. This is your story.” He straightened, excitement radiating through him. “It’s not just about the music; it’s about the connection you create. Those songs compress your essence into a few precious minutes. It’s your chance to be raw and real.”

The thought both exhilarated and terrified you. For the first time, you felt the weight of those words pierce through your nervousness and ignite a flame. 

“Wow,” you muttered, leaning back against the amplifiers. “That’s… a lot tocarry.”Eddie shifted, resting his hands on the edge of the amp, his smile unwavering. “That’s the beauty of it. You don’t have to carry it alone. This moment isn’t yours to bear in isolation. You’ll have an audience there, feeling every pulse of your music with you."

" and you'll have me" He emphasized the promise, his earnest gaze locking onto yours with an unwavering intensity. “I’ll be right there, backstage, living and breathing every note."

He leans closer, pressing a kiss on your forehead. The warmth of his lips lingered like a breath of wind, leaving a rush of warmth trailing down your spine. You froze, caught between surprise and exhilaration. Eddie pulled back, his eyes dancing with mischief, a grin spreading across his face like a forgotten melody suddenly rediscovered.

“Didn’t see that coming, huh?” he teased, attempting to mask the sincerity in his voice with a playful wink.

You blinked, the warmth of that fleeting connection thrumming through you. ““Uh, no, not at all,” you stammered, struggling to compose yourself, the rush of heat flooding your cheeks.

Eddie laughed, biting his bottom lip. " It's cute" 

You stumbled over your words, heart racing. “C-cute? Is that what you’re calling it?”

He leaned against a stack of amps, the mischief in his eyes glowing brighter. “Absolutely. A bold move, if I do say so myself. Shows real confidence.” 

You fumbled with the strings of your guitar, the heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah, well... I didn’t expect you to go all soft on me, Munson.”

" You think I never notice you backstage or when you tune my guitar for me? I'm Eddie Munson. I'm not the boy that I used to be in high school. I'm older, smarter, and a charmer" 

You raised an eyebrow, a half-smile creeping onto your face. “A charmer, huh? Is that how you win over all those girls?” 

He shrugged, leaning back against the amp, a gleam of mischief in his eyes.“Depends on the girl. Some like the charm, others just want the show.” He leaned in, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “But I’ve never been interested in the ones who throw themselves at me. They don’t see the real Eddie Munson. Just a persona they’ve conjured in their heads.”

His words hit home, primal yet intimate, unraveling a thread you had kept tightly woven. You glanced down, fingers tracing over the guitar’s frets, feeling the familiarity of the worn wood grounding you amid the simmering tension. Eddie's words echoed in your mind. You lifted your gaze.

“So, when you see me, what do you see?” The question slipped out before you could catch it.

" Someone as beautiful as the melody" he answers. The air crackled with his words, a powerful resonance that sent a shiver down your spine. "Beautiful?" You barely managed to breathe through the shock, heart pounding against your ribcage.

Eddie nodded, leaning in, intensity swirling in his gaze. “Yeah, just like that. There’s a strength in you, even in your shyness. You’re like a song waiting to be played.” 

The flutter in your chest soared, a wave of warmth washing over your cheeks.

" Munson!" A voice shrieked from the hallway, interrupting the moment. The girls from earlier, still buzzing with energy, burst through the doorway like a whirlwind, laughter trailing behind them. The spell shattered, leaving you breathless. 

“All of those girls waiting for you" you looked away sadly. Eddie's gaze lingered on you just a moment longer, a flicker of something unspoken dancing in his eyes before he turned to greet the girls.

“Hey!” he called, his tone brightening instantly, like flipping a switch.

"We thought we lost you" one of the girls giggled, wrapping her arms around him while you stood up, eyes on your shoes and ready to go. You felt the weight of their laughter, a tidal wave crashing against the quiet bubble you had shared with Eddie. 

“Eddie! Come on, we’re waiting!” Another girl tugged at his sleeve, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Eddie flashed a grin, turning his attention fully toward the group. “I’ll be right there! Just chatting with my guitar tech!” 

Your heart sank as the girls practically surrounded him, laughter and teasing banter filling the space. 

You were about to walk away when Eddie pulls you back in, this time he's towering over you and his breathe lingering on your face.“Hey,” he said, his voice low, cutting through the din of laughter. His eyes softened, holding yours, an unspoken connection hanging thick in the air. “Don’t go. Just hang out for a bit.”

" I have a job to do" it was like he could see the hurt in your eyes from when the girls appeared changing your mood. “I get it, but you’re not just my guitar tech. You’re part of this,” he insisted, his voice firm yet gentle, the intensity in his gaze refusing to let go. 

" This is nothing, not to Eddie Munson" you scoffed. Eddie’s brow furrowed, and he stepped closer, blocking the chatter of the girls behind him. “Don’t say that. You’re more than just what you do. You add something real to this chaos.”

" I am not going to be another notch on your belt" He held your gaze, intensity etched on his face, the laughter from the girls fading into a blur behind him. “You think that’s what I’m doing? Just collecting girls like trophies?” 

" you feel sorry for me, you see the silent guitar tech and offer her a moment of your god like presence" you roll your eyes. Eddie's expression shifted, surprise morphing into frustration. “This isn’t some pity party, alright? I’m not trying to collect another girl for my fan club.”

" I am not going to a girl you throw around like trash. I have feelings. I am a person" Eddie's expression tightened, frustration painting his features. “Damn it, that’s not what I meant.” He stepped closer, invading your space, his gaze unyielding. “You think I don’t see you? You think I can just throw you aside like everyone else?” 

His voice dropped as he searched your eyes, the raw honesty reflected within them making your heart race. 

“I don’t want to just look at you. I want to know you. I want to see the person behind the guitar tech. You’re not just some face in the crowd.” 

" Eddie!" the girls call to him. 

" Go back to your groupies" you roll your eyes. Eddie's gaze hardened for a moment, frustration flickering across his features. He opened his mouth to protest, but your heart felt like glass, ready to shatter.

“Hey, look…” he started, but the laughter of the girls grew closer.

" Eddie, come on. They are all waiting for you to drink with us" 

You look up at him, eyes glossy thinking the moment you shared with him was all too good to be true. Eddie’s gaze flickered between you and the group of girls, conflict roiling within him. The laughter dripped from the doorway, bright and inviting, an allure that pulled him back into the thrumming energy of the crowd.

Before he could say anything. You walked away.

The lights of the venue pulsated like a heartbeat, casting an electric glow across the crowd. Eddie Munson stood atop the stage, guitar slung low, his presence commanding the attention of everyone packed into the room. You stood at the edge, watching as he moved, a whirlwind of energy and charisma against the painted backdrop of neon lights. Each chord he struck resonated through the crowd, a wave of sound crashing into you, tugging at the threads of connection you had just begun to explore. Your heart thudded in time with the music, every note reverberating through your chest. Behind the barriers, the audience swayed, lost in the electrifying haze of Eddie’s performance.

His gaze poured over the crowd, and for a brief moment, it locked onto yours. You felt it like a jolt, an electric current surging through the spaces between you. The crowd blurred into insignificance as time slowed, and all that remained was his intense, searching stare blurred into insignificance as time slowed, and all that remained was his intense, searching stare. Eddie’s fingers danced deftly across the fretboard, each strum sending a ripple through the air, but the fire in his eyes anchored your gaze like a lighthouse guiding a ship through stormy seas. For that fleeting moment, he sang only for you, and the words mingled with unspoken promises and a challenge to leap into the unknown.

“ I know your listening " he starts with a confident grin, voice soaring over the crowd. “And I know you’ve got something to say!” 

Electricity crackled through the air, sending shivers racing down your spine. The heartbeat of the audience pulsed around you, but Eddie’s voice cut through the chaos, wrapping around you like a lingering embrace. It pierced the noise and stirred something deep within your chest, awakening the quiet ambitions you had kept locked away. 

He jumps onto the bottom next to where you stood. Eddie leaped off the stage, landing with an effortless grace that sent the crowd into a frenzy. A tide of bodies surged, hands reaching for him, but for you, the world narrowed to just him. His eyes sparkled with mischief and excitement, a daring challenge painted across his face. The air buzzed with adrenaline, and he approached, his grin wide as the crowd roared around him.

Eddie moved closer, his presence magnetic, and your cheeks flushed with the electric thrill of being so near him. The crowd pulsed, a living entity caught in the rhythm. With each chord, he wove together a tapestry of sound that wrapped around you like a warm embrace. The energy radiated from him, enveloping you in a whirlwind of pulse and passion, sending your heart racing with every word he belted into the microphone.

The heat of his grip was electric, a jolt that surged through your veins as he pulled you closer to the stage, the thrumming power of the crowd enveloping you in a cocoon of sound. Eddie leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he continued to sing, his voice layering over the music like silk. You could hardly process the reality of the moment—the electrifying sensation of his hand entwined with yours, the crowd surging around you, and the intensity of his gaze locked onto yours. 

“Feel it!” Eddie shouted, the energy of his voice piercing through the chaos. “Let it wash over you!” His lyrics wrapped around you like a spell, enticing you to surrender to the moment. 

Eddie cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek, and the warmth spread through you like wildfire. Around you, the crowd pulsed in sync with the thumping bass, but all you could focus on was him. His eyes bore into you, a swirling galaxy of emotion reflecting back at you. The world around faded into a hazy backdrop, the vibrant colors of the crowd bleeding into one another, transforming them into a chorus of anticipation and excitement. 

“Don’t you see?”

“Don’t you see?” Eddie’s voice wrapped around your senses, each word charged with urgency. “This is your moment! You don’t have to hide anymore!”

You swallowed hard, the call of his words cutting through the din of the crowd. Your heart raced.

" Sing" he gets another microphone. " Show them" Eddie’s voice pierced the noise, drowning out the crowd's chatter as he pressed the microphone into your trembling hands. You stared at it, the cold metal feeling foreign against your skin, the weight of it heavy with expectation. 

“What?” you stammered, voice nearly lost amidst the thrumming energy of the crowd.

“Sing!” Eddie's grin widened, a spark of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Come on, don’t let this moment slip away!” 

" Are you insane?" Eddie chuckled, his breath brushing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “This is the moment you’ve been building up to! Grab the mic and own it!”

" I can't" The weight of his gaze held you captive, a mixture of encouragement and challenge flickering behind those passionate eyes. 

" If you sing, then I'll kiss you" 

The words hung in the air, suspended between you like an electric charge. Your heart stuttered, a wild rhythm echoing through your veins, mixing with the pulse of the crowd around you. Did he just—? 

“Are you serious?"” you whispered, feeling heat climb up your cheeks.

Eddie leaned closer, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “Dead serious. You take the mic and unleash that voice of yours, and I’ll give you a kiss right here, in front of everyone.” The challenge in his eyes ignited something deep within, an adrenaline rush electrifying your veins. The crowd pulsed around you, demanding, throbbing with energy, and suddenly the weight of the moment hung by a thread between exhilaration and fear, a delicate balance teetering on the edge of chaos. You gripped the microphone, knuckles whitening, a cold metal reminder of the stakes at play. 

The microphone vibrated against your lips, a trembling connection that ignited a spark within you. You opened your mouth, and the words flowed like a river, a tide crashing against every hesitation. 

Your voice emerged, tentative at first, but the energy radiating from Eddie propelled you forward. The lyrics wrapped around you like a shroud, each note gaining strength as you surrendered to the rhythm pulsing through your veins. The cold metal of the microphone warmed against your palm, your voice echoing through the venue. 

Eddie's eyes sparkledas he watched you, the crowd’s energy crackling around you like electricity. 

With every line, the fear that had coiled in your chest began to unravel, giving way to something liberating. You found your footing, your heart syncing with the rhythm of the music. The lyrics cascaded from your lips, gaining momentum as you poured every ounce of emotion into your voice. 

The song culminated in a crescendo, the final chord hanging in the air like a breath held too long. You stumbled back, the microphone slipping from your grasp as Eddie scooped it up, still grinning beneath the electric glow of the stage lights

Eddie stepped back, watching in awe, the energy radiating from you drawing a pulse of electricity through the crowd. A roar erupted from the audience, a wave of applause crashing against you like an adrenaline tide. Eddie’s eyes sparkled, laughter dancing just beneath the surface. 

“See?” he shouted over the din, his voice resonating with excitement, the crowd’s roar echoing your own racing heartbeat. “You’re a rock star!”

You struggled to catch your breath, the thrill of the moment pooling in your chest. Every cheer from the audience wrapped around you, tugging at the corners of your lips, turning every doubt inside out. The exhilaration coursed through you, a tidal wave of adrenaline that drowned out your fears, leaving only a bright flicker of joy. 

" I think you promised to do something, Munson" your cheeks turned red. Eddie's laughter danced in the air as he took an exaggerated step back, feigning innocence. “Did I?” He leaned in closer, a teasing glint igniting his eyes. “What was that promise again?”

His grin widened, the playful challenge lingering in the air, electric with anticipation. “What was it again? Something about a kiss if you sang?” 

" You don't have to.. it was stupid thing..." Eddie’s grin widened, the playful challenge lingering in the air, electric with anticipation. “A promise is a promise,” he said, leaning closer, the light playing in his eyes. “You took the plunge; now it’s my turn to hold up my end.”

Eddie stepped forward, his presence filling the space between you and the pulsing crowd. The heat radiating from his body drew you in, your heart racing as anticipation mixed with the heady exhilaration of performing. 

The electrifying pulse of the crowd faded momentarily, leaving just the two of you suspended in the aftermath of your performance. Eddie stepped closer, the heat radiating from him enveloping you like a warm blanket on a chilly night. This was your moment, a heartbeat between the chaos of the crowd and the intimacy of your shared victory.

He stood there, inches away, his gaze intense and unwavering, capturing the energy of the audience just as easily as he captured yours. You could feel the world shrinking, the chaos around you fading into a melodious hum. Eddie leaned in, tilting his head to catch the glimmer in your eyes, a playful mischief dancing across his features.

" You're being too slow, Eddie" you joked. His grin widened, yet mischief sparkled in his eyes. “Slow? I thought I was taking my time, savoring the moment.”

“Because a kiss is all about savoring it,” you teased back, unable to help the flutter of anticipation that danced in your chest.

Eddie's laugh rolled out, sincere and infectious, drawing you in further. "That's the spirit! But don't think you can roast me and back out of the kiss, rock star." He leaned closer, the earnest glimmer in his eyes igniting a fire within you. “I’m not backing out,” you teased, your heart pounding against your ribs as he moved ever so slightly, the distance between you almost nonexistent. The enthusiasm from the crowd surged around you, a sea of voices thrumming with excitement, yet time seemed to stretch, pulling the moment into sharp focus.

The world faded as Eddie leaned in, his intent clear, and your heart raced with a mix of exhilaration and trepidation. The world around you melted into a hazy backdrop, the pulsing crowd fading into mere whispers as his presence enveloped you. 

His lips brushed against yours—a feather-light touch that sent a spark shooting through your veins. It felt electric against yours—a feather-light touch that sent a spark shooting through your veins. It felt electric, a jolt that resonated through every nerve ending. The world around you disappeared, consumed by the intoxicating warmth of the moment. Eddie drew back slightly his eyes searching yours, a mixture of triumph and exhilaration dancing across his features.

“Wow,” he breathed, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile that lit up his entire face. “You’ve got some magic there.” 

" Stop teasing" you tell him.Eddie chuckled, his laughter bright and infectious. “I’m serious! That was absolutely spellbinding.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to mask your embarrassment but failing. 

The roar of the crowd surged around you, a tidal wave of joy and exhilaration. Yet, even amidst their cheers and applause, Eddie's unyielding gaze held you captive. The world spun around, but you found your center in the spark of connection forged in that moment. You felt invincible, buoyed by what you had just done—and by what it meant.

" Let's give another round of roars and shouts for my awesome cute guitar tech" Eddie says into the microphone. The roar of the crowd swelled, a wave of sound vibrating through the venue as Eddie championed you. Laughter erupted from your lips, cheeks blazing with warmth, your heart racing against the backdrop of their applause. 

" You're something else, Eddie Munson" Eddie beamed, the electric energy coursing through the crowd amplifying the moment’s intensity. “Just wait until you see what else I can do!” He winked at you.

You were going to hold him on that promise.

[keekee-23]

Unexpected Melodies

A Damian Priest x Y/N fluff fanfiction

Side Note: Today is my birthday (Let the Libra season begin ♎️⚖️!), and I love me some jazz! I thought I would share another one-shot fic! Happy Fall, everyone!

Summary: Damian surprises Y/N with jazz festival tickets for her birthday, leading to a night of music and unexpected feelings between the two close friends.

Y/N was lounging in her New Jersey apartment, sipping on her favorite tea and reflecting on her upcoming birthday. It had been a tough year, filled with ups and downs, but she was grateful for the good friends in her life, especially Damian. Despite his busy wrestling schedule, he always found time to check in on her, offering words of encouragement and friendship that she deeply appreciated.

She glanced at her phone and saw a notification. It was a text from Damian: “Hey, what are your plans for your birthday this year?”

Y/N smiled, her heart warming at the thought of him remembering. She quickly replied, “Hey, D,” Y/N answered, leaning back on her couch.

“Hey, birthday girl,” Damian’s deep voice came through the phone, making her smile even wider. “Got any special plans for the big day?”

“Not really,” she admitted. “Just the usual dinner with the family. Maybe some drinks with friends. Nothing too crazy.”

There was a pause on the other end before Damian spoke again, his voice carrying a hint of excitement. “Well, I’ve got a little surprise for you.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? What kind of surprise?”

“I’ll give you a hint,” Damian teased. “It involves music, relaxation, and spending some quality time with one of your favorite people.”

Y/N laughed. “Music and relaxation? Sounds like a spa day or something.”

“Not quite,” he said. “How do you feel about the South Jersey Jazz Festival?”

Her heart skipped a beat. The South Jersey Jazz Festival was one of her favorite events, and she hadn’t been able to attend in years. She loved jazz music, and the thought of being there, enjoying the performances and the atmosphere, made her giddy.

“I love the jazz festival,” she said, her voice full of excitement. “But what’s that got to do with—”

“Check your email,” Damian interrupted with a grin she could practically hear.

Furrowing her brow, Y/N quickly opened her email app. Her eyes widened as she saw a message from Damian with the subject line: Happy Birthday, Y/N! She clicked on it and gasped as she saw the attachment: two tickets to the South Jersey Jazz Festival.

“Damian, oh my God!” she exclaimed, her voice full of shock. “Are you serious?”

“Completely serious,” he replied, his tone smug. “I thought it would be a great way to celebrate your birthday. You love jazz, and I figured, why not?”

“But you’re into heavy metal!” Y/N protested, still reeling from the surprise. “Are you sure this is something you want to do?”

“I’m more into heavy metal, yes, but I also know how much you love jazz,” Damian said. “Besides, I think it’s high time I broaden my musical horizons. And who better to do that with than you?”

Y/N was silent for a moment, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. It wasn’t just the tickets or the festival itself; it was the fact that Damian was willing to step out of his comfort zone just to make her happy.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” she said softly, her heart full of gratitude.

“I try,” he said, a playful lilt to his voice. “So, what do you say? You and me, the jazz festival, your birthday?”

“Yes, absolutely yes!” she exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over. “Thank you so much, Damian. This is the best birthday surprise ever.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he said warmly. “I’ll fly up the day before, and we can hang out and catch up. It’s been too long.”

“I can’t wait,” Y/N said, her heart fluttering at the thought of seeing him again. “This is going to be so much fun.”

Two days later, Y/N found herself anxiously waiting outside the entrance to the South Jersey Jazz Festival. She glanced around the bustling crowd, her heart pounding with anticipation. When she finally spotted Damian, her heart did a little flip. He stood tall, his dark hair tied back, wearing a casual black button-up shirt and jeans—a stark contrast to his usual edgy wrestling attire. He looked surprisingly relaxed, even though he was completely out of his element.

“Hey, birthday girl!” he called out, waving as he made his way over.

“Damian!” Y/N ran up to him, wrapping him in a tight hug. “I can’t believe you’re here. And I can’t believe you did this for me.”

Damian hugged her back, his strong arms enveloping her in warmth. “I’d do anything to see you smile like that,” he said softly, pulling back just enough to look at her. “Ready for some jazz?”

“More than ready!” Y/N beamed, her excitement palpable.

As they walked into the festival grounds, Y/N couldn’t help but steal glances at Damian. She knew how different this scene was for him, yet he seemed at ease, more focused on her than anything else. The festival was alive with the sounds of saxophones, trumpets, and smooth melodies drifting through the air. Vendors sold everything from gourmet food to handmade crafts, and the crowd was a mix of jazz enthusiasts, families, and curious onlookers.

They found their seats near the main stage, the perfect spot to enjoy the performances. Y/N noticed Damian glancing around, taking in the scene with interest.

“So, what do you think?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

“It’s… different,” he said with a thoughtful nod. “But not bad. I can see why you love it. It’s got a vibe.”

Y/N grinned, nudging him playfully. “You’re not secretly a jazz fan now, are you?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t push your luck, Y/N. But I’m here for you, so I’m willing to give it a shot.”

The first set began, and the music was mesmerizing. Y/N closed her eyes, letting the soulful notes wash over her. She felt Damian’s arm drape over the back of her chair, a casual, protective gesture that made her heart flutter. When she opened her eyes and turned to him, she found him watching her with a soft smile.

“What?” she asked, feeling a bit self-conscious under his gaze.

“Nothing,” he said, shrugging. “Just… I’m glad you’re happy. That’s all.”

Y/N felt a warmth spread through her chest. “I am happy. And it’s all thanks to you.”

They continued to enjoy the performances, laughing and talking between sets. Damian surprised her by knowing a few of the artists, which led to Y/N playfully accusing him of being a closet jazz fan. He took it all in stride, clearly enjoying the banter.

As the night wore on, the music became more lively, and the crowd began to sway and dance to the rhythm. Y/N watched couples twirling and moving to the beat, a wistful smile on her face.

“You want to dance?” Damian’s voice broke through her thoughts.

She looked at him, a bit startled. “Dance? I… I don’t know, Damian. I’m not exactly good at it.”

“Neither am I,” he admitted, standing up and holding out his hand. “But it’s your birthday, and I want to make it special. Come on.”

Y/N hesitated for only a moment before taking his hand. He led her to an open space where others were dancing, and they awkwardly began to move together. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of Damian, a towering figure who could command an arena full of wrestling fans, now trying to sway gently to jazz music.

“You’re really out of your element, aren’t you?” she teased, her eyes sparkling.

“Completely,” he said, smiling down at her. “But I’d rather be here, looking like an idiot with you, than anywhere else.”

Y/N felt her heart skip a beat. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d needed this—this simple, joyful moment. As they swayed to the music, she rested her head on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. For the first time in a long time, she felt at peace.

The song ended, and they reluctantly pulled apart. Damian’s hand lingered on her waist, and for a moment, Y/N thought he might say something. But he simply smiled, his eyes warm and steady.

“You want to grab a drink?” he asked.

“Sure,” she replied, her voice soft.

They made their way to one of the nearby vendors, grabbing a couple of drinks and finding a quieter spot to sit. The night air was cool, and the stars twinkled above them. They sat close, their shoulders touching, comfortable in the silence.

“Thank you for today, Damian,” Y/N said quietly, staring at her drink. “I know it wasn’t your scene, but it means a lot that you came all the way here. You’ve been such a good friend.”

Damian looked at her, his expression unreadable. “Y/N, I didn’t just come because it was your birthday. I came because… I care about you. A lot. And I want to see you happy, more than anything.”

Y/N’s heart raced. She looked up at him, searching his eyes. There was something there—something deeper than friendship. But before she could speak, Damian leaned forward and gently kissed her forehead.

“Happy birthday,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

Y/N closed her eyes, feeling a rush of warmth spread through her. “Thank you, Damian. For everything.”

They sat there for a while longer, talking and laughing, enjoying the night. And as they listened to the distant sounds of jazz music, Y/N realized that this was one of the best birthdays she’d ever had. Not because of the festival or the music, but because of the person sitting beside her.

With Damian by her side, everything felt just a little bit brighter.

[richtkin]

whisper your dirty secrets to one another you little gay men

[killingmoon]

i’m sorry to keep complaining about my mom on here but i really don’t know what to do :( i got hit with really bad cramps and i doubled over and she didn’t say are you okay or anything she just said “are you like…on your period or…” and then pulled out her phone like girl i am tearing up and kind of want like a hug or help or something idk

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Kafka

[tonycries]

Hope They Catch Us - G.S.

Synopsis. When you’re on-screen, it’s always a rivalry to see who’s best - you just never thought that it would be the same struggle in bed.

Pairing. Actor! Gojo Satoru x Co-Star! Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rivals-to-lovers, co-stars to lovers, unprotected, oral (fem receiving) slight exhíbitionism (stuff with cameras), marking, praise, Satoru is actually down BAD, cúmplay, tabloids, lowkey fluffy at the end, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.5k

A/N. YA GIRL IS BACKKKK ;D Also happy belated three months to this blog hehehe.

Lights, Camera, Drama: Gojo Satoru and Leading Lady’s Off-Screen Feud to SINK Box Office Darling?

“They’ll Kill Each Other!” Insider Source Spills All on the Royal Rivalry Between Hollywood’s Hottest Bachelor and Bachelorette.

Enemies of The Century or Publicity Stunt? Recent Cast Outings Sets Fans Speculating!

---

You hated him. Oh, how you hated him. All because of a red-hot rivalry that had sparked ever since the two of you took the industry by storm. And everyone from Hollywood’s bigshots to your adoring fans knew that no matter where Gojo Satoru goes, you were sure to never be within a ten-mile radius. 

Well, usually. 

“I…shit- I’m in love with you.” 

Because avoiding Gojo like a plague really isn’t saying much when said plague was currently sitting right next to you. Eyes boring into yours, signature smirk plastered on his face while he rattles off a disgustingly sweet confession - all on the set of your latest movie. 

Somehow, in a cruel twist of fate, your co-star. 

And to add insult to injury, this wasn’t just any movie - it was only set to be the biggest romance film of the summer. So not only did you hate to tolerate Gojo, you had to pretend to be in love with him. 

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. If only the check wasn’t as tempting as it was, you think he would’ve successfully driven you to an aneurysm already. Especially considering that the scene tomorrow was-

“CUT!” 

That snaps you out of your little reverie, bringing you back to the still very ongoing film shooting. You risk a glance at the disgruntled director, cheeks aching from the sappy fake smile you had to hold for this scene.

“Something wrong?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. You knew exactly what was wrong. And one look at Gojo - dressed to the nines and huffing sulkily at being interrupted in the middle of his monologue - told you that he did as well.

“It just doesn’t feel real.” The director shuffles his script, voice dropping to a sigh at your confused gazes. “The spark, it doesn't feel real.”

“What?” you silently thank your years of acting for keeping your voice steady. You squirm in your seat the longer the silence stretches. This cozy little café they rented out too tight, Gojo’s fingers intertwined with yours too hot. Too soft. 

“C’mon. You are in the perfect romantic set-up.” the other man gestures wearily at the café, at the dim-lighting and the proximity of your seats. “So why do you two look like you want to just- strangle each other?”

“Ooo kinky~”

It’s the first time Gojo’s spoken up since the scene was ended early and honestly that was enough to have you fulfilling the director’s suspicions. 

“That.” you give him a pointed stare. “That is probably why.”

And that just draws out such an infuriatingly light chuckle from Gojo, as he sprawls all over his chair with the audacity of someone that owned this entire set. “Lighten up. You’ve told us, n’ in the next take I’ll fix it. Easy peasy.”

If only it was that “easy peasy”. The director was anything but satisfied, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “It’s not just me, even the public is worried whether your ‘feud’ will get in the way of such intimate scenes. You-” he jabs a finger your way. “-better pretend like you want to kiss him senseless and you-” whirling now to Gojo. “-better act like you’ve wanted nothing more for years- Not to mention tomorrow’s sex scene-”

Ah, right. The sex scene. 

How could you forget? It might not be a walk in the park to giggle and make heart-eyes at Gojo, but to actually pretend to have sex with him? All on camera? Curse whoever wrote this damn script. You could’ve almost laughed at the universe’s absolutely awful sense of humor if it hadn’t been for your paycheck - and the next words that tumble out of Gojo’s pretty mouth. 

“We’ll ace it, you just watch.” 

You hurriedly snap your eyes to meet Gojo’s, sending him a look that says “behave”, in a way that very much makes him not want to. Twinkling with such dangerous mischief that makes your stomach flip as he hums, “Or- I’ll ace it.”

God, was it a battle to remain professional. The only thing stopping you from snapping back being the way he squeezes your hand mockingly reassuringly - to which you send him a death grip back, of course. 

“Oh? Care to elaborate, Mr. Gojo?” the director asks, eyes flitting between the two of you. And you can’t even laugh at the rest of the staff for almost toppling out of their seats in an attempt to hear his answer - because you are, too. Mind whirling as you lean closer, wondering just what nonsense would come out of Gojo’s mouth. 

“Well, you could say…” he trails off suspensefully, like the smug bastard he is. Looking right in your eyes as he flashes an unfairly pretty smile your way. “I’m irresistible like that.”

Exactly the type of nonsense that would come out of Gojo Satoru, of course. And one glance at the director told you he was thinking the same thing. He was going to be the death of you. You can’t help but breathe out shrilly, “You fucking-”

“My apologies, director, but our leads have a scheduled interview soon. Rest assured, we will be early on set for filming tomorrow.”

You were definitely giving Nanami a raise after this. 

Because if looks could kill then Gojo would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on his grace already - and you let him know. A little over twenty times, actually, as the both of you are hastily escorted away from the set for an “emergency interview”. 

It was a flimsy excuse, you both knew, but Nanami hadn’t exactly felt like cleaning up a crime scene today. Instead, settling for a swift escape, the director calling out after you two to “Look like you’re gonna rip the clothes off each other tomorrow.”

Rip the clothes off each other, huh?

With the way things were going, you couldn’t be surprised if you ripped him a new-

“C’mon, sweetheart~” Gojo gets out through giggles, that familiar cackle echoing in the narrow hallway leading to your trailer. “Y’know I was just having a little fun with that ol’ man.”

He saunters unhurriedly behind your brisk pace, easily blocking the way you swing the door shut in his face. Letting it shut with such infuriatingly smooth nonchalance. 

“Fun?” you scoff, jabbing an accusing finger right in the middle of his sculpted chest.“Do you even realize the mess you could’ve made?”

“Easy there, m’not insured for these pecs just yet.” Gojo clasps your hands together. Some strange little part of your skin burning at the touch in- anger? Something else? But you don’t think too hard about it, because he’s plowing on, “Besides, a little teasing never hurt anyone.”

Such a shame he was so pretty with the stupidest mouth.

“A little teasing? You practically declared to everyone in that room that we’re gonna fuck this up.” you move to pull him down by the collar instead, clearly unimpressed.

But oh you shouldn’t have done that - because he’s so close now. Too close. Hot breath fanning your face, looking so smug as he murmurs unrepentantly, “Do you?” Chuckling lightly at your little head tilt, “Do you think we’ll fuck it up?”

You clench your jaw, trying to keep it all together. “...No.”

“Exactly. We’re good then.” he winks. 

“No. We’re not fucking ‘good’.” you grit out. Wondering exactly how difficult it might be to bother the director into completely recasting the male lead for the movie. Looking up at that million dollar smile and- yeah, it would be very difficult. “You’re so insufferable. I don’t know why they cast you.” 

“My good looks? My charisma? The way I’m the-” he trails off with a sigh at your glare. “Well, you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, sweetheart.”

“At least I can act and-.”

He whines dramatically, cutting off your rant. “Me too!” 

This conversation was so ridiculous - but, hey, the great Gojo Satoru always did bring out the worst parts of you. 

“Nuh uh.” 

“Yuh uh.” 

“Then why are you so stiff when acting like you’re in love with me?”

Somehow, that makes Gojo shut up. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water - gasping out a strangled little, “B-because- well-” And if you didn’t know any better you’d say that was a light blush dusting his ears.

Only for a split-second, though, because he’s grabbing you gently by your shoulders, more seriously than you’d ever seen him. “Fine. Listen, we both want the same thing right? To have pretend-sex and ace this film to win like five Oscars?”

And maybe at the heat of his newfound proximity, maybe at the way he was looking at you so goddamn intensely - you feel something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Swallowing thickly, you manage to get out, “I’ll be the one winning the Oscars...but yes.”

Gojo’s gaze roams all over you - from the quirk of your eyebrow to the dress hugging you so sinfully tight. “Then we’ll do it. Ace the scene.”

Traitorously, a shiver runs down your spine. And because the universe loves to play jokes on you, Gojo notices - of course, he does. Eyes lighting up with amusement and something you really didn’t want to decipher as you blink up questioningly, “How?”

“Method acting, silly.” he rolls his eyes, as if he wasn’t implying something that wasn’t seen in even the cheesiest of romcoms. “Think of it as running lines.”

If there was ever a moment where your life flashed behind your eyes then this just might be it. 

“You-” you gulp, so hot all over. “You better shut the fuck up and pray your face is insured because-”

At this, Gojo throws his head back and laughs - loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say about keeping his voice down so as not to let anyone outside hear, but shit you were mesmerized. Damn, a weird little part of you kind of understood why directors loved him onscreen. 

“Feisty,” he muses. “But how can I shut the fuck up when they’re second-guessing the two best actors in the game?” 

“The best? Me, maybe.” you lean in closer, mouth as bitchy as ever - even when you’re so obviously crumbling bit by bit under his gaze. And he knew that. “But not you.”

“Well, only way to find out is with tomorrow’s scene, right, sweetheart?” 

He drove you mad - everything from his heady cologne, to the way that overpriced button-up clung to him like second skin. But, don’t pull away - how could you? Not when he inches closer ever-so-slightly. Not when he lets those overpriced glasses slide down his nose, eyes locked so heavily on you.

Fighting to keep your words steady, “There’s nothing special about that scene, just fake moan in front of the camera, right? We don’t need any…‘method acting’.”

Gojo only raises a brow in amusement, lips curling into a grin that really makes you too aware of his little dimple by the corner. “Then why…” His eyes flicker down from his hands, searing on your shoulders, to yours - still grabbing his collar, just grazing the soft skin of his neck. Not pulling away. “...can’t you let go of me, sweetheart?”

And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you, you really don’t give a fuck. The only thing running through your mind being that shit this was Gojo bane-of-your-existence Satoru, and he tasted so…sweet. Like those cheap lollipops he often snuck on-set. Strawberry, you think.

But you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly he’s pulling away mere millimeters. Whispering hotly, absolutely dripping with something dangerous, “Sooo, is that a ‘yes’ to running lines?”

“Ugh, shut up.” your lips ghost his. “And just fucking kiss me.”

And, well, Gojo doesn’t have to be asked twice. Because it only takes a split second for his lips to find yours again. 

Yeah, definitely strawberry lollipops.

You hadn’t filmed any of the kissing scenes just yet, but damn you didn’t expect him to be so hot and messy - like he was drunk off of you. Licking at the seam of your candied lips, groaning softly like he wanted more more more-

“Sh-shit, Goj-” 

“Call me ‘Satoru’ when we’re fucking.” he cuts you off. “Or, my bad. When we’re ‘running lines’.” 

Shameless. Though, you guess you weren’t any better - not as you press yourself closer running your hands all over his sinfully thin shirt, feeling every bump and curve of his abs. “You talk too much, Toru.” you hiss, muffled against his lips. 

Oh that cute lil’ nickname had all the blood rushing to Satoru’s cock, you were so unfair. 

“You little minx.” Like a little punishment, he’s biting down on your bottom lip, tugging lightly at your surprised squeal. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“Hmm, I doubt it.”

And then your back is hitting the couch before you can react, bouncing lightly at the sheer force. And you’re so swept up in him - the way he hovers over you, arms looping around your waist, his knee wedging between your legs - that it almost hurts for you to pull away.

“Patience.” you huff out a laugh at Satoru’s disappointed whine, eyeing those pretty pink lips mere inches away from you. You just wanted them on yours. So badly. But no, there was something more important you had to do right now. “Jus’ thought we should record our little rehearsal, whaddaya think?”

“Record it?”

“Record it.”

“Record it, hmmm?” he’s whispering, more to himself than you. Fumbling with the zipper of your dress. “So you’re sayin’ we tape it, let the camera see how pretty you look all fallin’ apart f’me.” Kissing down your neck, letting the flimsy fabric fall down, “N’ then we improve for the pretend sex. Shut all those snobby directors up by giving them the best fucking sex scene they’ve ever seen.”

“Y-yes?” you mutter, as he starts tweaking your hardened nipples through your bra, clearly having way too much fun with this. “Unless-”

“Fine by me.”

The fabric hits the floor before you even realize what’s happening. Head spinning too much from the idea of being fucked on camera - by Satoru of all people, it takes you a second to realize that this bastard fucking ripped your dress off. 

“You probably broke-” 

“I’ll buy you a new one.” muffled, as he kisses down your navel, blindly fumbling with his phone. 

“It was expensive.”

With an impatient sigh, Satoru sets the camera up on the coffee table beside the couch. “Five new ones.” Angling it just right to perfectly capture you - in all your disheveled, horny glory, and Satoru, smugly seating himself between your thighs. 

“Ready?” he asks, finger hovering over that damn red button.

Well, it’s just for rehearsal, right? Right? 

“Do it.” you manage to get out, voice getting stuck in your throat at the faint ding! that rings throughout the heady room. “For my Oscars?”

“For my Oscars. N’the camera’s gonna know.”

And whatever retort on the tip of your tongue dies when he rocks his hip against yours, grinding his cock against your soaked panties. Rock-hard and so damp with precum already - so big that any and all rational thinking flies out the window.

Which is probably why you’re letting out such a pretty gasp, ‘S-Satoru, I want-“

“What?” And Satoru only flashes you a devilish grin, hands spreading your legs as far as they’d go on the couch. “This?”

He licks a long, long stripe up your inner thigh, all the way till he just meets the hem of your drenched panties. Teasing. So hot and depraved in the way he breathes in your scent. 

“Oh fuck, sweetheart.” Satoru grunts, looking down in awe at the damp fabric, so flimsy and see-through with your sweet juices. You slick beading through so sloppily, just a hint of the state you were in. “You don’t know how you drive me mad.”

Rip! 

He’s so fucking starved that he’s just tearing your poor panties clean off. Throwing them behind him to God-knows-where before spreading your swollen folds with his thumb, showing off just how wet you were for him. 

“You’re a tease.”

“And you’re fucking addictive. Look how fuckin’ wet you are. For who, huh?” he slurs, breath hot against your cunt. Circling your entrance just barely with his fingertip, teasing you like he was addicted to those frustrated moans coming out of your pretty lips. 

“S’for you-” you whine, “All for you, Satoru.”

“Exactly what I wanted to hear.”

And that’s all that needs to be said before he’s burying himself nose-deep. Drunk off your pussy as he licks long, languid movements. And it wasn’t enough - never might be, actually, because only one taste and Satoru was like a man possessed. 

Bullying his tongue between your folds, just dipping into your sloppy hole in a way that had your slick smearing all over his pretty face. Letting out such deep groans that had you clenching around his hot tongue. 

Shit, if you knew that this was the way to shut up the great Gojo Satoru then you would’ve done it a lot sooner. Because for one in his life, Satoru’s too entranced with something else to run his mouth, so fucking satisfied between your thighs. 

“Fuck- hah- think I like you better w-when hngh- you’re like this, Toru.” you purr, breath hitching as he bullies his tongue between your folds. 

Maybe you were an idiot - maybe you were a genius, because that only sets him off more. 

And suddenly Satoru’s pulling your body closer onto his hot mouth, like you were weighless. Pushing himself so impossibly closer while he makes out deeper with your wet cunt. 

“Ah! Hngh- Satoru-” you keen, tugging at his soft locks. As delirious as Satoru was pussydrunk. Drinking in all your cute lil’ whines of his name, angling your hips to lick all over like he couldn’t decide between fucking your sloppy hole or toying with your poor, ravaged clit. 

“Mhm?” he murmurs, the vibrations making you squeal.  Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “Ya like this?” Stretching you out on his tongue, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over- “Like when I tonguefuck your pretty pussy?”

“Ngh- love it- s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Satoru’s tongue. 

And oh Satoru thinks he wouldn’t mind being on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. “Tell the camera too, sweetheart. Practice how you’ll come around my tongue.”

Those words send a jolt up your spine - or maybe it was the way Satoru was sucking harshly on your clit. “F-fuck off.”

“Mhmmm, n’ this is why I’m the better actor..”

Ugh, this fucker. And with that you fight to turn your head - looking right in the camera. Feeling so fucking lewd as you let out such pornographic moans.

“Yeah- feel s’good.” you whimper, “Wanted this for so long, ever since I first saw- ngh- you-”

And shit were you so fucking evil - at least warn a guy! Because that has Satoru’s heart lurching, almost jumping up from between your legs before it hits him with a pang - ah, right, you were just quoting your character’s lines. Of course.

Well, two can play that game.

“Yeah?” he mutters into your folds. Two fingers plunging knuckle-deep in your pussy, massaging your plushy walls. Roaming around for that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so deliciously. “Can’t believe I waited s’fucking long. Y’know how hard it was to hold back? With you wearing all those slutty skirts f’me?”

Your body is jerking violently, both at his - practiced - words, and the way he was devouring you like you were his favorite meal. His favorite taste.

So eager and in-character with the way he was setting such a dizzying pace on your poor cunt. Slick trailing down from his fingers, all the way to his wrist. So sloppy and- Pressing down. Hard. “Found it.”

And you can only sit there and take it, such cute little whines of Satoru’s name leaving you as he leaves no mercy. Jaw grinding deeper and deeper, maddening. Aching as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over. And you were so-

“Close?” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Truthfully, he didn’t even have to ask - if the way you were trembling and squeezing so fucking tightly around him was anything to go by. “Go on darling. scream my name. Show off f’the camera like you do best.”

“Sh-shit. Toru- fuck yes-” you’ve got an iron-tight grip on his hair now, pulling and angling him as you pleased for more. Barely able to let out those strained lil’ moans, definitely not with the way he’s dragging your sloppy pussy all over his face. Fingers cramping up from how rough he was going - but still not stopping. 

“Go on. Cum f’me.”

And then you are. Letting out such a teary, strangled moan of Satoru’s name as you cum all over his face. 

And it’s not just for the camera either - because this orgasm is probably the best one you’ve had in a while. So hard that you don’t even realize you’re arching and rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Using him. 

And he doesn’t stop you. Why would he? You were so pretty falling apart all because of him. He wishes he could see this more often…

“S-Satoru.” you mewl, overstimulated. Jolting with each flick of his tongue, trying to close your legs but you can’t - he won’t let you. Greedily lapping up all your sweet juices, everything that you give him. 

“Nope.” he drawls, finally pulling away, delicate strings of your slick snapping as he does. Looking so fucking drunk off of you that it makes your cunt quiver exhaustedly. “C’mon now, sweetheart, you were s’pposed to say my character’s name. S’how the scene goes.”

Oh. Shit, you got too caught up. But one look at Satoru - eyes half-lidded, hair disheveled, your juices glistening all over the bottom half of his face so prettily - tells you he was much the same. 

“Well…” you huff, voice shot. “According to the script you were supposed to stuff that-” pointedly eyeing the achingly hard cock straining his pants, “-in my mouth first before eating me out. So here we are.”

With a chuckle, he rises slowly. “Touché.” Looking you straight in the eyes - and probably into your very soul - as he pops his fingers into his mouth. One by one. Groaning at the taste of your sweet sweet juices while he sucks them clean. “But I don’t think I’d last one second with those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”

And it almost makes you want to tease him for it - one of Hollywood’s biggest It Boys but you can’t handle a lil’ blowjob? But all of that gets stuck in your throat as Satoru starts peeling off his shirt ever-so-slowly. 

Shit, you think. All mouthwatering curves and dips, all the way from his toned, milky shoulders down, down, down to those neat tufts of white peeking out from the hem of his underwear. Sculpted like he was handcrafted so meticulously - a fucking masterpiece, you had to admit. 

One that made you wish you took a longer look at all those shirtless magazine covers instead of throwing them out. One that had your thighs squeezing in such anticipation.

And Satoru seemed to be admiring you just the same, eyes locked on your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing - so ready for him. Distinctly aware of how pathetically needy you were being in front of the blinking camera, you crane your head to glance at it. Was it really capturing-

“Now now, first rule is to never look at the camera during this scene.” Only for Satoru to squish your cheeks together, forcing you into an embarrassing little pout as he turns you back to face him. “Look at me.”

And oh you can’t not look at him. 

Especially when he tugs his pants down, just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, so fucking long and pretty. Smearing glossy precum all over his abs, flushed your favorite shade of pink, rock-hard and so so angry. Shit, he was so hard it looked like it hurt. 

“Satoru…” you breathe, legs wrapping around his slutty waist to pull him closer. Only needier despite that little nagging voice wondering how the fuck you’d take his sheer size.

“Sweetheart?”

“I remember he didn’t do a lot of waiting in the script.”

And God were you right - but Satoru doesn’t think he could’ve kept this act of restraint up any longer even if you weren’t. Too impatient, too starved, his sanity dancing away from him with each second his fat cock wasn’t stuffed inside your pretty cunt. 

“Mhm.” he purrs, one hand reaching down to drag his fat head up and down your slit. Heavy balls squeezing painfully at the way your lip wobbles in frustration. Up and down up and up and- “You’re right.”

And then it’s like something snaps.

Because it only takes a split-second for Satoru to start splitting you apart on his massive cock. Big fat tears pricking at your eyes at the feeling that he was pushing all the way into your lungs. 

“Sh-shit, s’fuckin’ tight-” he lets out a low grunt at the slight resistance, taking everything in him to not just fuck into your snug pussy and use you like his little plaything. “You gotta hah- relax, pretty girl.”

You needed to relax more - to breathe maybe, just something. You weren’t even in the right state to wonder whether that little nickname was in the script - and God was Satoru thankful for that. Because all you can think of is how you never imagined what the bane of your existence would look with his cock stuffed in your dripping cunt - but now that you’ve seen it, you think you’ll imagine it for many lonely nights to come. 

“Hey, now. Don’t get camera-shy just yet.” Satoru gives your ass a playful smack. “After all, this is only the best- part-”

Each word is punctuated with shallow, mindless little thrust to fit himself inside your dripping pussy. Such cute lil’ whines leaving your swollen lips that he really can’t help but tease you a bit. Leering down at your fucked-out face with a smirk, “Or- my bad. Forgot such a scene would be hard for a rookie.”

Oh, did he know how to press your buttons just right. 

Because immediately, you’re blinking away the delirious haze in your eyes, voice so adorably shaky - but determined - as you grit out, “Bring it on, you B-list wonder.”

That’s all that has to be said before he’s finally bottoming out inside you, mercilessly. Inch by fucking inch. You gasp as his twitching balls smack your ass so lewdly, feeling his veins beat in such a slutty lil’ thump! thump! thump! against your heavenly walls. 

“T-Toru- big- ngh- too fuckin’ big. M’gonna break mpf-” his lips claim yours. Partially because it’s been way too long since he’s kissed your pretty lips, and partially because Satoru might just cum right then and there if he let you run your mouth. 

So he lets his hips do the talking instead. 

Cooing into your mouth at each little ah! ah! ah! every time he stuffed you full of his dick, quick, experimental thrusts to try and find that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so prettily.

“Sounds so beautiful, sweetheart.” rocking his hips faster into yours. So hard you were sure he’d leave marks. “No camera in the world can pick up how fuckin’ perfect ya are. Can’t ngh- pick up those cockdrunk lil’ heart eyes.” Angling your chin just so that your sinful expression is caught on camera, “Shit do ya even know you’re doing those? Might just make me lose it for real tomorrow. Might just make me sneak you off to the dressing rooms n’-” Manicured fingers digging into your hips while he fucks you in jagged, purposeful strokes. Hitting that one spot. Hard. “Fuck you all over again.”

You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he smugly hits that magical spot over and over- 

And it was so sloppy - so filthy with the way Satoru still had remnants of your slick all over his lips, matching the way you were soaking his cock. Fingers moving down to draw erratic little patterns on your clit, making it even messier. 

Close - too close. 

So, so desperate and debauched.

“C’mon. Show the camera. Tell the camera how much you love it.” 

“Ngh- f-fuck you.”

“Oh? Who’s fucking who now?” he’s laughing at your absolutely wrecked state. You can feel Satoru twitch inside you as you mumble out such delirious little praises to the camera - were they coherent sentences? You’ll never know, because the next words that fall from his lips have your mind reeling. 

“God, m’addicted to you, my girl.”

“That’s not- ah- in the script, Toru.” you hiss. Close. 

“I know. And neither is that.” he leaves such uncharacteristically gentle kisses down your neck. Miles away from the relentless place on your poor, abused pussy, fucking you deeper and rougher every time despite already bottoming out. “Does it have to be?”

“Th-that doesn’t ngh- make sense.” you gasp into his open mouth. 

“Doesn’t have to.”

Maybe it’s the way Satoru’s panting those words against your lips. Or maybe it’s the way he’s looking right in your eyes while he says them - like it would kill him to pull away. Maybe even that fleeting little kiss he leaves against your lips. 

Because before you know it, you’re cumming and cumming so hard that you wonder whether you’d make it out alive. The only thing you can do is throw your head back and take it, thighs quivering, Satoru’s names spilling from your lips in such broken little whines while he thrusts so sloppy. Once. Twice. 

“Ah- this is gonna have me fallin’, huh?” And then he’s letting out such a low, muffled moan of your name, filling you up with rope after rope of his cum. 

What? 

It’s so messy - his cum overfilling your poor pussy, spilling out and coating his twitching balls. Shit, you can’t even worry about whether it would stain that overpriced couch below you. Not when Satoru’s whispering out sweet- lines from the script?

“Fuckin’ beautiful underneath me. Always was.” Hips still fucking into you - not even thinking at this point. “Always will be. Such a vision onscreen, sweetheart.” So thick and hot, and dribbling all the way down your legs with every movement.

And then Satoru’s lips are finding yours again, tasting so unfairly sweet while he drinks in all your cute breathless gasps. “Such a vision f’me.”

Those weren’t from the script either.

Something soft. Something scary. Something that has you looping your legs tighter around his waist, letting him collapse onto you. Pulling him closer, in fact, because now that you know the weight of his body on yours, it just felt so right.

It takes a moment of silence for you two to catch your breaths, the still rolling camera being the last thing on your minds. Neither willing to speak first, because shit Satoru might’ve gone to countless red carpets and film sets but this - you are what strips him away from all the glamor and fame. Until he was just, well, embarrassingly Satoru.

The Satoru that was now shifting shyly in your arms, trying to get up. “Uh- Hell of a way to run lines, huh? Better check the camera n’ see where to impro-”

He might be one of the biggest actors in modern Hollywood, but Satoru didn’t fool you - not one bit. So without a word, you’re tugging him back to rest against you. Heart lurching just a little bit as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Like a little hideaway - from the camera, from the world, hell, maybe even from you.

“Y’know,” he flinches ever-so-slightly at your teasing tone, giving you a playful bite. “I have one area of suggestion and it might just be that you’re too good at ‘running lines’.”

“...Good enough to win those five Oscars?”

“No.”

“Then guess I better prove it to ya, huh? Is the camera still on, sweetheart?”

Just then, some weird little part of you thinks that, hell, maybe you don’t hate Gojo Satoru after all.

Not anymore, at least. 

---

The Enemies-To-Lovers Trope of The Century?! Hollywood’s Biggest Rivals Sport Matching Hickeys (And Smiles) On-Set of Upcoming Film.

Oops! Gojo Satoru's Phone Wallpaper Accidentally Exposed: Surprise, Surprise It’s His Leading Lady! More on Page 6.

“No Comment. Though, I Have Moved Trailers. Twice.” Anonymous Manager Speaks on Latest Movie Rumors.

Director Is All Smiles As He Raves About Upcoming Romance Movie. “Hell, If I Didn’t Know Any Better I’d Say They Were Really-”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[yuwuta]

friends with benefits with nanami wouldn’t work because he would think you deserve better. you think your arrangement is going well, kento has never complained before, and you’re certainly more than satisfied in bed. he’s handsome, strong, kind, generous with aftercare, and really fucking good with his mouth, so there are no complaints on your end. which is why it’s such a surprise to you when kento confesses that he doesn’t like the way he’s been treating you, and no matter how much you insist that it’s fine, and reassure him that he treats you more than well enough, he refuses. 

“but kento, i’m okay with this,” you attempt to convince him that hooking up is enough—he doesn’t need to feel like he has to do more for you, “you’re good to me, and not just in bed. please don’t feel like you owe me more.” 

“you deserve something proper,” he’s adamant, shaking his head, “you deserve more than convenient sex.” 

“but what if this is all i want?” you can’t help but to tease him. he looks awfully cute with his arms crossed, respectful refusal written all over his face, “i think eating me out on a weekly basis is quite enough, it would just be greedy for me to ask for more, don’t you think?” 

your jokes don’t amuse him, but his expression keeps you giggling. still, nanami sighs, and grumbles, “you should want more. it’s not greedy.”

“kento, if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you’re telling me to raise my standards.”

he blinks, cheeks pink with irritation and eyes hollow with tiredness. you push every single one of his buttons and he doesn’t know why, but he would never stop you. maybe that’s where this impeding guilt is coming from—kento likes you, and he doesn’t enjoy feeling like he’s using you, even if you get to use him in return. he doesn’t want your relationship to be transactional, and he doesn’t like that you think such a relationship is okay. 

because, guilt aside, kento knows he wants more of you; he wants all of you. and even if you don’t want him back, he thinks you should know that you’re worth having all of, and nothing less. 

“maybe i am,” he settles, “you are worth more than an occasional hookup. you should be treated better than this, and i am sorry that i have let it go on for this long.”

“this is ridiculous—you’re nothing but good to me! and i like having sex with you. if you don’t want to have sex with me anymore, that’s fine, but—”

“i didn’t say that,” he interrupts. 

“so… you do wanna keep sleeping with me?” 

“yes. but we should go on a date before we continue.” 

“but what if our date is terrible. do we still get to have post-first date sex?” 

he shakes his head, stepping closer to you and holding your forearms before leaning down to kiss your forehead, “i don’t put out on the first date.”

you scoff, taking a half-step closer, snaking your arms around his torso, and grinning up at him, “what a prude.”

at that he smiles, before bending his neck to indulge you in one last kiss. “i’ll pick you up at seven.” 

[teamred]

any other way

✩‌ logan howlett/wolverine x reader | fluff | 1.8k

SUMMARY | in which your good friend, wade, ditches your planned movie night, but his roommate offers to watch one with you instead. however, logan ends up falling asleep on your shoulder.

WARNINGS | drinking, kissing, swearing, gets a little steamy/handsy

RATING | teen+

NOTES | it's funny... i've been a big x-men fan for a while, but i never really fell for logan until d&w. if this pops off, maybe i'll write more for him!!!

///

“Wade, hurry up and let me in! A girl can only hold freshly popped popcorn for so—oh.” 

Instead of your dear, annoying friend, it’s his gorgeous, rugged roommate who answers the apartment door instead. Your eyes sweep over him, taking a liking to how his brown plaid button-up drapes over his white tank top. His clothing choices compliment his sturdy frame and strong pecs. His facial hair is perfectly groomed and—  

And it doesn’t help that you have just the teeniest, tiniest crush on him. 

“Logan, hey!” you exclaim, a little too enthusiastically. “I didn’t know you were going to be here for movie night too.” 

“Wade’s not here, bub,” Logan says, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms and a sympathetic half-smile.

“What?! That little shit said he’d be free tonight…”  You sigh, shaking your head. “Well, it’s all good. I’ll just—” 

“Did you want to watch a movie with me instead?” Logan offers. You think you hear a hint of hopefulness in his voice. “Since you came out all this way?” 

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to bother you. I’m sure you’re—”

“Darlin’,” he interrupts with a soft chuckle. Your heart stumbles at the sound. “I have never been more free on a Saturday night. You’re welcome to join me, but only if you’re comfortable with it.” 

Now your heart is melting over his kindness. You smile warmly. “I always feel comfortable around you, Logan.” 

He returns the smile and gestures for you to come in, offering to take the popcorn and if you want anything as you remove your shoes.

“I got it, but thank you. A beer would be good,” you reply, settling in on one end of the couch in the living room. You glance around curiously. “Is Blind Al not home either?” 

“Yeah,” Logan calls from the nearby kitchen, bending towards the open fridge to grab the drinks. “She’s getting, in her own words, ‘turned up’ at the casino tonight.”

You snicker as you browse through streaming services to pick a movie for tonight. Logan returns with a beer in each hand and you’re surprised when he takes the middle seat next to you. You catch a whiff of his scent and it is intoxicating–a blend of woody notes, perhaps leather and pine. 

“So what’s the movie for tonight?” Logan asks, taking a sip from his bottle. 

“Well, be honest with me here: Wade promised that we could watch this new movie that just released a few days ago, but it’s a romantic movie, so—” 

“Of course,” he cuts in with a roll of his eyes, tossing a kernel into his mouth. “That’s his favourite genre.” 

You deflate a little. “Okay, with that tone, I’m assuming I will have to change the movie choice.” 

“No! Don’t change it because of me,” Logan quickly interjects. “We can watch whatever you want. I’m genuinely content to just sit here and do something other than watching reruns I’ve seen a million times before.” 

You study him for a moment, trying to gauge his sincerity. “Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure,” he reassures you, nodding and flashing another smile. You will yourself to calm your racing heart and focus on finding the movie. Once you select it, you press play and relax into the couch cushions. 

Out of nowhere, Logan places his arm around you, his hand slightly hovering above your shoulders. You stiffen at the unexpected move, unsure why he’s doing it. But then he quickly pulls back, shuffling a bit away from you.

“Shit, sorry,” he mutters, clearly embarrassed. “It’s out of habit when I watch stuff.”

“You can leave your arm there,” you blurt out. You don’t even register the words coming out of your mouth. Where was this boldness coming from? 

He quirks an eyebrow, amused. “Yeah?” 

“Mm-hmm,” you nod fervently, rushing to grab your beer to steady your nerves. Taking a long sip, you try to force your body to relax again. 

The first few minutes of the movie starts quite slow, but your eyes are glued to the screen to ensure you don’t miss the exposition. Just as you reach for the popcorn, so does Logan, and the back of your hands brush against each other. 

“Sorry,” you both mumble, glancing at each other in awkwardness and something hanging in the air. He juts his chin out with a subtle smirk, gesturing you to go first. You grab a handful, and as he follows suit, his fingers graze against yours, causing you to shiver. 

The air in the room is electric, and you wonder if the tension is just in your head or if Logan feels it too. The movie continues, but your thoughts are consumed by the warmth of his body so close to yours and the possibility of what might happen next. 

Later into the movie, you freeze as you feel Logan leaning in closer. You turn your head, ready for what might happen–

But then, he goes completely lax, slouching into your shoulder and resting his head in a comfortable position. 

“I should’ve chosen a different movie…” you think, shaking your head. 

It’s hard to focus on the movie with this gorgeous being asleep on your shoulder (and the movie doesn’t seem to be that great anyway). Towards the end of the movie, your attention drifts completely and you indulge in how Logan sleeps. His soft snoring. The gentle squeezes he gives your shoulder as he dreams. The steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes in and out. 

Suddenly, Logan stirs and lifts his head, almost snorting up air cutely. He blinks groggily. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, gorgeous. Did I sleep through the movie?” 

You hesitate, hung up on the fact that he called you gorgeous. Your cheeks prickle as you search for the right words to say.

“Yeah, you did,” you whisper with a small smile. “But it’s fine. It wasn’t that great anyway.” 

“Mm, figures,” he mumbles. “Did you wanna watch another movie or—” 

As he straightens up, you instinctively lean towards him, closing the gap between you two. Your noses practically touch.

“Or did you wanna do…” Logan’s voice is low and gravelly. You hold your breath and hold his gaze. “...something else?” 

You barely nod, and he drags you into a searing kiss. His hands cup your cheek and neck with urgency. Soon enough, his tongue dips into your mouth, sending a jolt to your core. 

Logan cradles your body and carefully positions you lower onto the couch. The weight of his body pressed up against you sends you into overdrive. His hands dive underneath your shirt, exploring your soft skin. The pressure of his body against yours leaves you breathless. Not only the pressure of his body, but also his—

“Winner winner, chicken dinner!” 

Wade’s booming voice cuts through the front door like a tornado, forcing both of you to scramble away faster than opposing magnets. However, it’s too late; Wade has witnessed everything. 

“Oh, my God, Blind Al, my plan worked! It fucking worked!” Wade squeals, jumping up and down. 

“Oh, no. Are they butt-ass naked on the couch? Times like these, I’m grateful to be blind.” 

“No, they’re thankfully fully clothed. But they were just dry humping the shit out of each other though.” 

“You ditched movie night on purpose, you asshole!” you screech. 

“Hey, you should be thanking me,” Wade retorts with a wink. “You and Wolvie always have had palpable sexual tension every time you were in a room together. Hell, even Laura agreed it’d be a good idea to set you two up.” 

Logan and you exchange a sheepish smile, acknowledging the truth in Wade's words. 

“Blind Al and I will just be basking in our casino winnings with a few drinks and then we’ll be out of your hair in a few. And then you two can carry on and fuck each other freely on the couch.” 

“But keep it down, please,” Blind Al adds with a hint of desperation.

“I probably should get going now,” you chime in, eager to avoid the awkwardness. Logan quickly follows behind, walking you to the front door. 

“I’m sorry about all this,” he says in sincerity.

You wave him off. “You never have to apologize for them. They’re like family; I’m used to them.” 

“I didn’t know where the night was heading, but—” He turns around to check over his shoulder, lowering his voice and leaning in slightly. “—I’m glad Wade set us up.” 

“Heard that!” Wade calls out from inside the apartment. 

“Damn it,” Logan mutters, making you giggle. “Anyways, would you let me take you out on a proper date tomorrow night?” 

You beam as you reply, “I’d love that.” 

“Great, I’ll call you later.” 

Logan steps outside of the apartment and closes the door behind him, pulling you in by your waist for another kiss. Innocent at first, but then he presses you up against the wall and his hands grips at your waist, extracting a few moans from you.

“Either get back inside or just go home with her rather than wall-fucking her outside of the apartment!” Wade’s muffled voice echoes through the thin walls. 

Logan retreats slightly, his breath warm against your cheek. He keeps his voice low. “And not trying to put pressure on our date tomorrow, but if—”

“If things get heated, let’s go back to my place,” you finish his thought with a soft promise. 

His eyes light up with a relieved smile. “You read my mind. Thank you.” 

You smile into one last kiss, the world fading away as you savor the sensation of Logan’s mouth on yours.

Until Wade pops his head out through the door like a whack-a-mole you’re dying to hit. “Okay, seriously. I will offer you my bedroom, if you’re really that horny, you guys.” He calls out your name. “Also, did you know he can smell how horny you are?” 

“I—what?” you stammer, blinking in confusion.

“Wade, shut the fuck up,” Logan snaps with gritted teeth. He faces you again with a gentle smile. “Have a good night, gorgeous. I’ll call you as soon as you get back home.” 

Logan’s a man of his word, almost calling immediately as you stepped foot in your apartment (with Wade providing unnecessary commentary in the background, as always). 

Later, as you get ready for bed, you can’t help but admit how grateful you were for Wade’s set-up. If it wasn’t for him, neither of you would’ve made a move; it would’ve progressed at a glacial pace. 

Lying in bed and looking up at your bedroom ceiling, you think to yourself how tonight truly was perfect, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way. Smiling, you drift off to sleep, dreaming of what tomorrow’s date might bring. 

ENDING NOTES | thank you so much for reading and giving some love! part two can be read here!

[thewispsings]

Heloo can I request a smau where the reader and lando are dating and they always do date nights but its not really a date night cus oscar is always with them everytime lily isnt there and he just becomes their child 😭 thank you thank youu

just us, and your friend steve | lando norris

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: at first you were annoyed by oscar being at all of your dates, until you started to miss him when he wasn’t.

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 572,016 others!

yourusername: date night with my boyfriend <3…and his boyfriend!

view comments below!

user1: oscar the certified 3rd wheel

user2: that picture is so cute

landonorris: i love you :)

yourusername: haha simp

landonorris: oscar give my girlfriend her phone back

yourusername: fine 😒

yourusername: i love you too lan :D

landonorris: there she is!

user3: man i would KILL to be a third wheel in this relationship

user4: i would be landos boyfriend 😏

user5: is lando oscar’s only friend??

landonorris: yes!

oscarpiastri: it’s not nice to lie lando

landonorris: im not lying?

oscarpiastri: i have other friends!

landonorris: oh…then why don’t you go hangout with them instead of 3rd wheeling with me and my girlfriend?

oscarpiastri: …

landonorris: that’s what i thought!

yourusername: that was not nice lando.

landonorris: it wasn’t meant to be nice, it was the truth!

yourusername: still, it was mean.

oscarpiastri; yeah lando. it was MEAN.

landonorris: don’t gang up on me??

user6: LMAOO they hang out for one night and they become like this 🤞

user7: i need more of this trio

danielricciardo: and why wasn’t i invited?

maxverstappen1: i have the same question?

landonorris: because you guys have other friends! for osc it’s just me and yn

oscarpiastri; I HAVE OTHER FRIENDS.

landonorris: shhh, shhh, shhh baby it’s okay. it’s okay.

yourusername: baby 🤨

landonorris: omg it just slipped out

user8: that’s…interesting!

user9: yn and lando are so cute together

user9: and oscar cute too ig?

user10: you guess?? that man is gorgeous

user11: the “…and his boyfriend” is TOOO funny. yn i love you

user12: she’s seriously so funny

user13: how can people hate her?

user14: they’re most definitely just jealous

maxverstappen1: oh but when i want to make a heart shaped pizza with you it’s weird?

landonorris: yes!

maxverstappen1: double standard much?

landonorris: she’s my GIRLFRIEND

maxverstappen1: AND WHAT AM I?

user15: i feel like im interrupting something

yourusername: how do you think i feel…

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 528,058 others!

yourusername: paddle and golf with my baby <3 and my baby 🥹

view comments below!

landonorris: why does he get the cool picture and i get that?

yourusername: i think both pictures summarize you guys perfectly!

landonorris: so he’s cool while i’m a loser?

yourusername: i didn’t say that but…

landonorris: WOW, already favoriting the child. i can’t believe this.

yourusername: my child will ALWAYS come first.

oscarpiastri: :D

user16: we went from “my bfs bf” to “my child 🥹”

user17: WE DID IT GUYS

user18: yn and lando adopting oscar agenda is HAPPENING

charle_leclerc: are you trying to steal my child from me?

yourusername: it’s not really stealing if he willingly comes with…

charles_leclerc: it’s just stockholm syndrome, don’t worry oscar i’ll get you away from them soon

oscarpiastri: im actually having lots of fun :)

charles_leclerc: OMG WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM

user19: we got lando and yn adopting oscar…but we lost this during

user20: totally worth it

danielricciardo: when is it my time to be adopted?

maxverstappen1: you are a 35 year old grown man.

danielricciardo: 😐

user21: why is max coming for daniel??

maxverstappen1: i’m bored. since APPARENTLY i’m not landos paddle partner anymore

landonorris: max…i can explain…

maxverstappen1: save it. don’t call me. don’t come by my house. we’re done.

landonorris: i see you watched diary of a wimpy kid

maxverstappen1: i did indeed..

user24: they’re at it again…

user22: max is so funny

user23: i love him

user24: oscar being so quite during all of his is so him coded

user25: he’s just enjoying being out and about

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 601,958 others!

yourusername: vacation with the boyfie <3

view comments below!

user26: omg lando looks so good

user26: i’m going into heat

user26: WOOF WOOF WOOF WOOF

user26: GRRRR

user27: this is the first post in 2 months that doesn’t have oscar…

user28: and the crowd…cry’s?

user29; i can’t be the only one who thought oscar would 100% go with them on vacation

user30: i definitely thought so too!

user31: they’ve literally spend all their extra time together

maxverstappen1: how many times did he belly flop?

yourusername: i’ve been swore to secrecy.

user32: she’s so lucky

user33: right? ‘the boyfie’ IMAGINE BEING ABLE TO CALL LANDO NORRIS YOUR BF??

charles_leclerc: guess who’s with me right now 😏

landonorris: charles…don’t.

charles_leclerc: hehehe

yourusername: you’re just his rebound. you’ll never be me.

charles_leclerc: @/oscarpiatsri what do you think?

oscarpiastri: i still like yn better

charles_leclerc: i bought you ice cream…

oscarpiatri: you could never be her 🤷

yourusername; IM COMING HOME FOR YOU OSCAR

landonorris: see what you did charles?

maxverstappen1: how are you holding up?

yourusername: i feel like my hearts been ripped out of my chest. i have no reason to wake up.

maxverstappen1: oh!

user34: max was NOT expecting that answer

user35: if oscar doesn’t get himself over to that damn island soon istg

user36: THATS HER BOY 💔💔💔

oscarpiastri: did you find any crabs? :D

yourusername: yes. i will put them in my suitcase and take them with me to show you

user37: so this is crazy!

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 713,046 others!

yourusername: look who joined us!! my son <3

view comments below!

user38: THEY REUNITED!!!

maxverstappen1: how did she take it? 🤣

landonorris: she cried.

yourusername: i did not!

landonorris: yeah baby you did…

oscarpiastri: yn you know how much i hate agreeing with lando, but yes you did cry

yourusername: I MISSED MY SON, GOD FORBID I CRY??

user39: i get you yn. i really do

user40: omg this is so cute

user41: truly adorable

oscarpiastri: now i can see all the crabs in person :D

yourusername; THATS MY SON EVERYONE

charles_leclerc: he was mine first 🥲

yourusername: #getoverit??

landonorris; can’t believe you cried when you saw him

yourusername: i was EMOTIONAL

landonorris: in the four years we’ve been dating you have never cried when seeing me

yourusername: i see you all the time! no need to cry!

landonorris: i want you to cry! cry for me!

oscarpiastri: you could never be me ;)

landonorris: i will send you back to australia

yourusername: if you send him back, i’m going with him

landonorris: WOW.

user42: we have officially entered the era where yn is choosing oscar over lando

user43: her son > her boyfriend

danielricciardo: does this mean i can hop on a plane and go visit you

landonorris: NO. this is officially a family vacation.

danielricciardo: and i’m not family? 💔

yourusername: you’re that one uncle that you see twice a year and don’t talk to or interact with for the rest of said year.

danielricciardo; yeah that makes sense.

. . .

notes; thank you for requesting!! hope you enjoyed :)

[ickadori]

++ 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈/𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

[summary] during a playful fight between you and yuji, sukuna decides to make an appearance and air out yuji’s dirty secrets.

[cws] fem reader. dubcon. lewd use of sukuna’s tummy mouth. exhibitionism -> you’re in public but no one is around. one mention of a misogynist comment from sukuna. yuji thinks about you a lot. unedited.

“Do you …hah, do you give up yet?” Yuji pants as he has you pinned underneath him, sweat dripping off the ends of his hair and landing on your forehead.

You’d cringe and shrink away if you weren’t so determined to win this mock fight (never mind that you were drenched in your own sweat, as well).

“Absolutely not.” You grit out, hips futilely bucking up to try and get him off you. He barely budges, even having the nerve to laugh as he watches you struggle. You can hear Nobara booing quite enthusiastically, while Megumi grumbles about being late for class and having to hear ‘Gojo’s annoying mouth’.

“Ya know you’re not gonna win, so just give up already and agree to hosting movie night in my dorm this time!”

“Never! No one wants to stare at pin-up posters all night, plus your tv is too small, and your bed always smells like Doritos, and—”

“Geez, just say you hate me, why don’t you.” He rolls his eyes, going to sit back on his haunches as he stays straddling your waist. You kiss at your teeth, trying once more to buck him up while simultaneously bringing your hands up and shoving at his stomach. “And my bed does not smell like Doritos! Does it?” He snaps his head over to look at Nobara and Megumi.

“The cool ranch ones.” Nobara says, and Megumi nods in agreement. “Aka, the nastiest flavor.” Yuji gasps dramatically.

“That’s the best flavor! How dare you…” As he bickers back and forth with Nobara, you focus a little cursed energy into your hands. “…says the girl who eats pickles with whipped cream like she’s pregnant or someth—!”

In the blink of an eye you’ve got Yuji on his back as you straddle his stomach, a triumphant grin on your face as you keep your hands on his shoulders to keep him pinned flat against the ground. “Aha!”

“That’s cheating!” Yuji frowns up at you.

“No, it isn’t! It’s called strategizing.”

“Cheating!”

“I’m going to class.” Megumi begins to walk off, hands stuffed in his pockets, and you shout after him.

“Movie night is in my dorm!”

“Hey!” Yuji interrupts.

“Bring good snacks only!” You finish, and then Nobara is the next to go, jogging to catch up with Megumi as she flashes the both of you an amused grin.

“Cheater.” Yuji grumbles once it’s just you two, and you snicker as you let go of his shoulders and sit up, not bothering to stand up just yet. “Using cursed energy against your friend… you should be ashamed.”

“You literally threw a spear at me yesterday and it almost killed me.”

“That’s different! We were training, and I didn’t mean to throw it that hard.” His expression turned sheepish as he avoided your eyes, and you pursed your lips as you tapped his nose with the pad of your index finger. He wriggled it in response, and you softly laughed as you did it again.

“It’s fine, just know that you had it coming when I try to kill you in the future, mkay?” He blinks up at you.

“You’re creepy, you know that?”

“Says the boy with a third eyeball on his cheek.” This time you do cringe, watching as the red eye blinks open before settling on you.

“Wha—Sukuna!” Yuji snaps, hand moving to slap over the eye and cover it. “You should probably go now before he fully wakes up … you know how he is.” A pink hue bleeds into Yuji’s cheeks as he averts his eyes, and you feel your own face warm as you nod.

“Yeah,” you agree. Sukuna had always been insufferable from the moment you befriended Yuji, always piping up with mean, critiquing comments that bordered on being cruel. The comments had started with him bashing your fighting skills during your trainings with Yuji, quips of ‘you’re so slow - it’s a wonder you aren’t dead yet’, or ‘women on the battlefield is a bad fucking joke - hasn’t anyone ever taught you your place’, or ones that had left you teary-eyed and which you refuse to repeat.

Yeah, Sukuna was an asshole, which wasn’t a surprise to anyone, and you’d rather not have your day ruined before you even made it to your first class.

“I’ll see you tonight, Yuji.” You place your hands on his chest, about to use him to push yourself up to your feet, but a low, raspy voice has you stopping in your tracks.

“You’re sitting on my mouth.” Sukuna abruptly says, and you blink in confusion, your eyes flitting between Yuji’s and where you’re sitting.

“What?”

“Y-You should go now,” Yuji tries, but Sukuna is talking again and drowning him out.

“Your pussy, that hot thing between your legs, it’s on my mouth. See?” Something moves underneath you, and you flinch at the sound of fabric tearing before a yelp is leaving your mouth when something thick, damp and warm is pushing up between your legs and pressing against your clothed cunt. “You should be careful where you put that thing, y’know.”

He talks through the mouth on Yuji’s hand, and your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as Sukuna swipes his tongue against you again, his saliva wetting the fabric of your underwear.

“Sukuna, st—”

“Sit back and shut up.” Yuji falls silent in an instant, and a wave of panic washes over you when you see his eyes gloss over and his head fall back against the grass, black markings etching their way onto his face. A grin stretches across his face, and hands move to lock around your hips, fingers pushing into your flesh as he makes sure you can’t go anywhere. “That’s better.”

“Y-Yuji?” You sound breathless, and you gasp when his tongue worms its way past your panties to swipe in-between your folds. “Yuji!”

“Relax,” he rolls his eyes, “the brat is still here. Watching and listening, he’s not gonna miss a thing, don’t you worry.” You don’t know if that’s worse or better—Yuji being aware of what’s happening, being able to see your face contort each time that tongue flicks at your clit, being able to hear the noises you try and fail to subdue.

“Stop,” your voice sounds weak to your own ears, and Sukuna guffaws, tongue forcing its way up into your cunt, the action eliciting a lewd squelch as he rubs against your walls.

“Stop.” He parrots back at you, hands tightening around your hips, and you duck your head down when his tongue leaves your hole to instead focus its attention back on your clit. “I don’t know what the brat gets all worked up about—yeah, you’ve got a sweet pussy and a nice pair of tits, but you’re a real fuckin’ tease. Rolling around with a boy in that flimsy little skirt and grinding your cunt up against him. Tch.”

“I wasn—Sukuna!” You jump when his teeth graze against your folds, the thought of him possibly biting you making a shiver of fear run up your spine.

“He wants to fuck you.” He couples the reveal with a harsh suck. “Fuck this cunt that I’m tonguing down - the pervert can’t go five minutes in a room with you without thinking about it.” Your ears burn as a fresh wave of slick rushes out of you, thighs trembling where they rest around his thick waist. “He’s too worried about scaring you off to do anything about it, though… but I don’t think he has anything to worry about, does he? Look at you.”

A whimper leaves your mouth, and you quickly sink your teeth into your bottom lip, not succeeding in blocking out the slurping, tacky sounds coming from between your legs. You want to stand up, get his mouth away from you so you can think straight, because your mind is all jumbled and fuzzy and screwy, and his words, his crude words that always made your skin hot and your stomach churn, is making it churn for another reason now.

“Won’t you give him a show, hm?” You barely register his words, and you yelp when his hand makes contact with your ass, fingers kneading at the doughy flesh as he repeats his earlier words. “Take your tits out.”

“No,” you warble, your hands weakly pushing at his wrists, a poor attempt to get him to stop moving your hips back and forth, forcing your cunt to side back and forth over his flattened tongue. “Sukuna, please.”

“Take ‘em out yourself, or I’ll do it for you and leave you to walk back to your dorm with nothing on.” You hesitate, eyes wet as you nervously lick at your lips, and when he makes a move for your shirt, you quickly begin to undo the buttons, fingers clumsy as they fumble repeatedly. “Good pet.”

Your blouse falls open as you undo the last button, revealing the pink bra you have on underneath, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you pull the cups of your bras down, fully exposing yourself Sukuna’s eyes .. and Yuji’s, too oh God.

The reminder that Yuji can see everything that’s happening sends a fleet of butterflies to your stomach, and you kick yourself mentally when you find yourself jutting out your chest just a bit. Does he like them, the thoughts zips through your mind, and you don’t have time to question where the hell it came from before hands are roughly squeezing at them, calloused fingers pinching and twisting at your nipples.

“Are they as good as you imagined, kid? Cause you imagine them a lot.” Sukuna smirks, and then he’s snapping his eyes up to yours. “You wanna know what he thinks about doing to them?” His tongue lazily laps at your folds, occasionally parting them to venture down to your clenching hole and take a dip inside before repeating the process.

Sukuna doesn’t wait for your answer.

“He thinks about putting his cock between them, pushing them together so it’s nice and tight and fucking them.” He demonstrates, hands pushing your breasts together, and you can’t help but watch his hands as they grope and fondle you. “Thinks about how they’d bounce when he’s got you riding his cock.” His hands leave your breasts to instead grip your hips, and you gasp when easily lifts you, just to drop you back down onto his tongue, the appendage sliding into your cunt and reaching deep.

“Sukuna!”

He continues to lift you up and down, forcing you to ride his tongue, and his eyes stay locked on your bouncing breasts, lips still fixed in that same smirk. “You gonna come?” You feel as if his words are directed at more than just you. He moves you faster, nails biting into your skin, and your face contorts into one of bliss as you hold onto his wrists as tight as you can, eyes fluttering shut as your pussy clamps down.

He pulls you down for the final time, mouth latched onto your cunt as you come, greedy gulps and sucks sounding as he swallows down your slick, his hands moving from your hips to your back. He roughly pulls you towards his face, and a whimper-y moan forces itself out of you as his lips wrap around a stiff nipple, teeth sinking in before he’s soothing the sting away with his tongue.

You sag against him, ragged breaths disturbing tufts of pink hair, and the aggressive sucking on your breast morphs into softer, gentler sucks, the nails that had been scratching at your back replaced with gentle caresses, and the tongue and mouth that had been abusing your now puffy and sore cunt is gone.

“Yuji.” You sigh, and he hums around you before his whole body goes stiff, tongue pausing its gentle swipe against your nipple, and hands slowly moving away from you. The heat against your chest is sweltering, and you push yourself up on shaky arms, tiredly blinking down at his red face.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know he would do that or say those things! I-I don’t even know why he said all those things, I don’t think about you like that, I swear!” He goes off into a tangent, eyes darting between your face and your breasts, and you sigh again before leaning back down to push your lips against his.

The kiss is chaste and quick, and when you pull back your face is as hot as his, and you become acutely aware of your state of dress, hands fumbling to fix your bra and redo your shirt as you avert your gaze.

“What was that for?”

“You… you wouldn’t stop talking.” You defend as you fix the last button, and then you’re struggling to your feet before Yuji finally frees himself from his stupor and helps you. He pulls away from you and takes a few steps back, the both of you staring at each other in silence for a bit, and your eyes widen when you see his shirt has been ripped away around the stomach, the skin there wet from you and his happy trail glistening with your juices.

“I-”

“You-”

“Sorry, you go.” You both interrupt each other again.

“He-”

“We-”

You heave out a breath as he groans, and when he goes to say something else to wave your hands back and forth, stopping him short. “Let’s never talk about this again.”

“Oh… okay! Yeah! Okay! Lips are sealed.” He motions to lock his lips and throw away the key, and you can’t help but smile just a bit.

“Okay.” You nod, hands twisting together, and there’s another uncomfortable silence before he speaks up again.

“I can, um, walk you to class?”

“Oka—oh, your shirt.” You gesture to his ruined uniform, and he looks down as his eyebrows raise.

“How’d that happen—oh, yeah.” He looks at you, and you roll your lips into your mouth. “I guess I should change then.” You nod. “I’ll see you tonight then, right? For movie night?” Could you really sit through a movie with him after what Sukuna just did, after what he told you? An ache starts as you recall what he had revealed to you, and your eyes meet Yuji’s as you nod again.

“Yeah. Tonight.”

[malfoys-demigod]

hii! it’s iluvloganhowlett i’m just on my other acc! could you do a logan fluff where logan has a soft spot for u and lit only u? like for a prompt, scott asks a question and logan answers with some “it’s none of your business” or is j flat out mean where as when you ask the same question minutes later he’s nicer and thorough with his answer.

and can u please make it logan x mutant!reader🥰🥰

Logan Howlett, underrated softie

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Logan Howlett x Reader

A/N: Hi @iluvloganhowlett!! I really appreciate your request and here it is! Enjoy, dear!!

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

Winters in upstate New York were exceptionally known for their extreme coldness.

Which of course was no shock that a particular mansion at Westchester County was at -3 degrees celcius, almost reaching at 4 in your keen opinion.

Just being inside made you want to wear a thick full body coat today, wrapped with your favorite scarf and gloves. But you felt silly about that idea, seeing how everyone else was just casually surviving the day with good long sleeved tops. How lucky of them.

Though it was only 8pm, you had the senseless idea of wrapping yourself in your blanket, trying to fall asleep in your bedroom, desparately hoping to sleep through the coldest day of the week.

After a few tosses and turns, feeling the icy breeze sneak into your body, you just knew there was no hope in dozing off. Not with this kind of weather!

You groaned in defeat, sitting up to curse to yourself why you had to feel so, so, so frigid of all days today.

Maybe some instant hot chocolate by the kitchen would help you soothe yourself into sleeping soon.

So you got up, wore an oversized sweater over your thick long sleeved top, placed on your fuzzy slippers, and made your way out of your room to the kitchen.

There were still students around the mansion, either reading books with each other, watching the television by the living room, or playing some board games while having hot beverages and snacks. Hmmm, the smell of hot chocolate from some of them just made you realize that hot chocolate is always a good idea.

Meanwhile over at the kitchen, just a few minutes before you had arrived, Storm was in one of the seats in front of the counter, having her decaffinated coffee, mixing some sugar and some milk with it. Yup, she was one of those who enjoyed the taste of cofffe, even at night, so she has it decaffinated so it won't affect her sleep later.

Scott grabbed a bowl and a box of Lucky Charms cereal from the cupboards and made his way to the fridge, which was being leaned on by Logan, who was having a round of beer.

Scott stood in front of Logan with a serious look on his face, expecting Logan to move. But Logan, who wanted to mess with the man, just stared back at him, flashing a mischievous look. "You should take a picture, it'll last longer."

"Move, asshole," Scott sneered, "I need milk."

Logan continued drinking from his beer, still eyeing scott with the same mischievous look on his face, ignoring his command.

"Oh, Scott, I still have some!" Storm interrupted, saving Scott from possibly wanting to strike Logan, based on his tight grip on his bowl, and now slightly wrinked cereal box.

"Dick," Scott muttered under his breath, moving through Logan, who felt like he won another round of Logan v Scott. That small win was now done being celebrated when you finally arrived into the kitchen.

"Hey guys," you greeted your colleagues, getting some 'heys' from Storm and a slightly disgruntled Scott.

"Hey, doll," Logan recited gently, earning a dear smile from you. He watched you look around the cupboards, noticing your mystified expression as you wandered around each cupboard and cabinets.

You then moved to the fridge, "Sorry, could I just check something inside?" you asked Logan softly with your fingers skimming over each other.

Scott looked up from his meal, watching Logan expose a smile on his mouth, gently moving aside as you opened the fridge, watching you hmph in disappointment.

Scott made his own quiet hmph to himself, seeing Logan's patience with you, to which Storm smiled coyly seeing sparks fly around the tough Wolverine.

"Didn't find what you were looking for, darl?"

"Yeah, I think the kids got the last instant hot chocolate powders for themselves," you frowned lightly in disappointment. "It's okay though," admitting in defeat. You were starting to make your way out, looking at the doorframe, "I think I'll just-"

"Hold on there, bub," Logan's instruction brought you to a halt. You turned around to see a now quiet Logan, whose eyes were looking into, what he thought, were puppy eyes. "Instant powders are for kids," he continued, his eyes quickly scanning around the room as if he was about to make use of the information around him.

"How about I make you some real hot chocolate, huh?"

While Scott and Storm turned to each other, exchanging unsure looks, you let out a small laugh in disbelief, which determined Logan to actually pull it off.

"You?"

You didn't want to sound mean about it, I mean, anyone can make hot chocolate. It wasn't rocket science, or some gourmet dish, but never in your wildest dreams did you think that Logan Howlett, the man who only went to the kitchen to bring out his secret stash of beer, would make you hot chocolate?

But the way you asked didn't matter to Logan, as he got whole milk, chocolate, whipped cream, and heavy cream from the fridge, walked to another counter for powdered sugar, and expresso powder, which he directly got a teaspoon of from Storm's side to which she didn't say anything about, since she herself, was inclined to watch Logan act as if he was someone else she didn't know.

Logan was now whisking together his ingredients in a saucepan that you helped get.

"How long should these be over the heat?" you tip-toed, wanting to see over Logan's shoulder's as he was perfectly centered in front of the saucepan.

"Till you see small bubbles appear around the edges," he replied, looking over at you tip-toe, which he wanted to melt at just seeing.

He then stirred in chopped chocolate, waiting for it to melt, and carefully placing the sauce to low heat, stating to you that 'it's needed for the chocolate to melt completely.'

His little moment of domestic fluff with you and him in the kitchen was put to a pause when a voice from somewhere behind him got his unfortunate attention.

"Since when did you have time to learn all this?," Scott teased, receiving a nudge from the elbow from Storm who shook her head.

"Shut the hell up, prick," Logan said, not even facing a smirking Scott.

Logan then served the drinks in two mugs for him and for you, of course topping them with lots of whipped cream. More than excited to try Logan's hot chocolate, you immediately took a careful sip, tasting the intense, rich, and absolute heaven which had to be the most decadent hot chocolate ever.

"Oh my god," you said, closing your eyes with satisfaction, "It feels like I'm in one of those Parisian cafes, drinking the best hot chocolate there."

It was as if every sip made you forget about how cold and freezing you were just earlier, and seeing you look so content with the drink made Logan want to beam, but of course realized Scott and Storm were, annoyingly still around.

"Glad you like it, Y/N," he thanked, seeing you turn to face him with a curious look on your face.

"I do want to ask..." you hung back the question, "When did you have time to learn how to perfect this? I know you didn't just learn this overnight."

It was a genuine question because despite living since the 1800s or so, it was not exactly like Logan had free time to cook around or whip up hot chocolate, right? This man went through a lot in his life, and would he really just use his spare time investing in something like.. hot chocolate?

Logan looked down, with a humble and small smile on his face.

"My mother..," he first started, "When I was young and while my dad was out, she would make hot chocolate on cold days, or even any day for that matter."

There was so much value you had, appreciating the little yet deeply personal story behind your now, favorite drink. You knew Logan was never an open book with anyone. It was more of a shut and locked up book with the key below the bottom of the ocean for no one to pick up.

But the way he had just been with you tonight so far, was like, he was giving you the key for you, and literally you only.

"So you rememberd her exact recipe?" you inquired more, with a sparkle that Logan saw in your eyes.

"Nah, not exactly," he said, slightly timid with a grin, " 'course I adapted to today's ingredients like instant whipped cream, but it's something like what she made before."

"Do you think you could make some for me again tomorrow?" You genuinely requested, which made Logan more or less, want to fold and do as you say in a heartbeat.

But of course, he wanted to slightly play it cool. "Don't see why not," nodding in agreement.

"Good, I'm gonna bring this with me back to my room now," you announced, "Thanks so much, Logan, good night!"

You then smiled at Scott and Storm, waving them goodbye as you walked away from them, leaving them to smirk like children at Logan.

"That was cute." Storm said, bringing Logan back to his usual, serious look.

"I'd love to try some tomorrow too, Logan," Scott tried to fake his genuine statement at the same time trying not to burst a laughter out of him.

Without any words this time, Logan, holding his mug of hot chocolate in hand, passed Scott with one claw out from his other hand, slicing his cereal box in half.

"Asshole!" Scott yelled, now trying to pick up the pieces of cereal as Logan walked out of the kitchen took a sip from his mug, indulding in the fact that,

A. he made another successful hot chocolate in his life

B. he gets to make it again for you tomorrow

C. he hopes to make it for you for as long as winter's still there.