iwudbutnah

[iwudbutnah]

I dig the look. I gotta give the show another shot. It moved too slow for me and I quit it halfway through the first episode but I’ve heard good things.

Rio Vidal: THE green witch

Concept art by Imogene Chayes and costume by Daniel Selon.

[iwudbutnah]

All the time especially on YouTube I really need to stay out the comment section of some videos cause…. People are so damn messy for no reason. Plus it seems like I can talk about good things or actual things discussed in the video and here comes the trolls. SMDH

do you ever start writing a comment on the internet and then think “oh what the fuck am i going on about�� and delete it

[iwudbutnah]

did you know that you can just go online and be nice to people? you can give people compliments and helpful advice when they ask? you can encourage people when they need a little cheering up? you can even share cute pictures! more people should use the internet like that.

[iwudbutnah]

It's frustrating that you can come up with the plot of an entire fic in just a few seconds, but writing it all down can take anywhere from never to forever.

[iwudbutnah]

It’s November, so had to bring this back!

[iwudbutnah]

What I’m currently going through SMH. Creativity at its finest.

[iwudbutnah]

He looks like he’s on a mission alright and your the target.

Mission Impossible: Fallout (2018), dir. Christopher McQuarrie.

[iwudbutnah]

All of this and then some it’s all fuckin facts.

My good people, I give you: Amatonormativity.

[iwudbutnah]

I know in her mind she had a bunch of should’ve, would’ve, could’ve going on. Her sister tried to warn her but she didn’t wanna listen. She’s going to get to be loved her story just isn’t going to be the way she imagined. I wonder if Lloyd would make her continue taking the injections or rather allow her too or just let her be a beta? As soon as he sat down and said sugar tits I was like here we go. I was thinking she is not ready for this particular Alpha lol.

Imposter

One shot

A/N: Lloyd would not let me write until i got his story out. hope y'all enjoy! Reader is female. No physical descriptors used. Let me know if i fucked up and not do that. Chat me up i don't bite! Thank you

Summary: Beta dreams to be apart of a world she doesn't understand.

Warning: Adult content only! 18+ only please. Dark! There is potentially triggering stories ahead. NoNcOn, dubious consent, , biting, blood, A/B/O

Dark Alpha Lloyd Hansen x Beta Reader

🟣

The bathroom feels smaller than it is, the mirror reflecting your trembling resolve. You’re not nervous, you tell yourself. You’ve waited for this, prayed for this. And now it’s here.

You stare at the instructions one last time, fingers trembling against the glossy packaging. The words over complicated and too clinical. Why couldn’t it just be step one, step two, step three? Simple. Clear. The way things should be.

The injector feels heavy in your grip, awkward. You steady it against your thigh, inhaling sharply as the sting bites through your skin.

You hear your sister call your name as a shiver runs up your spine. Her footsteps closing in pulls you back sharply to reality. You barely have time to toss the injector into the trash before she appears at your side her gaze catching on the cluttered counter of discarded packaging.

“What is this?” Her voice tightens as she lifts the wrapper, eyes narrowing. “What did you do?”

Your throat dries. There’s no way to soften this, no excuse to offer. You hadn't told anyone. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t. They’d never understand.

“It’s…” Your voice falters, the words tasting foreign. “It’s an omega drug.”

For a moment, her face twists with disbelief, concern, something close to pity. Then anger flashes through her, sharp and unforgiving.

“Why would you do this to yourself?”

“You wouldn’t understand.” You shake your head, the heat rising to your cheeks. “You’re Lucky, you're an Alpha.”

It’s a truth you’ve carried like a stone, living in a house full of Alphas and Omegas. Their lives seemed easy, natural. Full of instinct, need, and connection. You envied it, longed for it, while your sister the only one to waste it.

Her laugh is bitter, cold. “You think this is luck? You think it’s fun being forced by your nature to want to hurt someone?”

She always said things like this. Always reduced the bond to something ugly. She never wanted what you wanted. Never wanted love.

“You’re being dramatic,” you snap.

“Dramatic?” She steps closer, her voice low and sharp. “I’d give anything to trade places with you.”

You shake your head, tears burning the corners of your eyes. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t want to be like you. I want to be loved.”

“Loved?” She scoffs. “It’s not love. It’s submission. Do you even understand what you’re asking for? To be helpless? Powerless? For someone to take what they want without caring how you feel?”

Her words sting, but you don’t let them show. You push past her, your jaw tight, your chest heaving. She doesn’t understand. She never would. She never wanted what you wanted—never cared for love. You do. You always have.

🟣

The cafe hums softly, a world of warmth and clinking cups. You sit, a quiet buzz of excitement threading through your chest, though the thought of a date still sits oddly on your tongue.

Your gaze lingers on his photo in the app—stoic, broad, the kind of alpha who seems carved from the stories you’ve always heard. His bio said he was a soldier. How heroic. It’s almost too easy to imagine him sweeping you off your feet, making promises of forever. That’s what you deserve, isn’t it? Not this life of cold, disconnection. Not a world where love feels like something always just out of reach.

You feel it before he sits, his scent filling the air—familiar and heavy, like a storm waiting to break.

“Hey, sweet tits.” His voice cuts through the haze, far too bright. You tuck your in your lap, the pet name grading a bit, but you push past it. It’s just the first-date nerves, you tell yourself.

“Hi!” You preen sweetly. You hear the slight coo in your voice, and you wonder if he hears it too. The thought sends a wave of heated embarrassment through you. You can't control your nature yet; the instructions mentioned something about it, but that's the part you didn’t read too closely.

"Lloyd, right?"

He slides into the seat across from you with a low creak, muscles shifting under fabric tight enough to strain. You swallow thick as his eyes lock with yours, steady and unyielding, pulling you in.

“In the flesh. So, what are we drinking?”

“Whatever you like.” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them, and you feel the heat rise, your skin prickling under his stare.

His brow twitches, the smallest hint of amusement curling in his eyes. His fingers click together, a deliberate movement that feels too slow, too heavy in the silence that follows.

“Well, sweet tits,” he says, his voice lowering, eyes narrowing, “I want to get out of here.”

It’s a command. You can feel it. You can’t ignore your hindbrain, pleading, the weight of his words presses against it, pulling at something deeper—something primal.

🟣

The oak door closes softly behind him, the sound a muted echo that seems to hang in the air. His scent—musky, deep, unrelenting—fills the room. It presses into your lungs, clouding your thoughts. The heaviness of it clings to the space, wrapping around you like a fog. You feel light-headed, swaying slightly as your heels click against the polished wood.

You pause, your breath catching as you take in the loft. It’s vast, the sleek, minimalist decor. You don’t notice him move until his touch lands on your shoulder, a shock of warmth against your skin. You flinch, a soft gasp escaping your lips, your purse slipping from your grip and hitting the floor with a soft thud. The contents spill out, but it’s the medication that catches your eye—the bright neon label almost blinding in the quiet.

You lunge forward, desperate to gather everything before he notices, but he halts you with a simple gesture, his hand raised, stilling your body. A chill runs down your spine as you swallow thickly. Your hands are frozen at your sides, unwilling to obey.

He crouches, thighs tensing as he scoops up your purse. The weight of his gaze lands on the medication, freeing it from your bag.

"So you're a beta," he says, his tone cold, accusing. The words fall between you, heavy and sharp. You feel them like a blow to the gut.

"Answer me," he commands, his voice low with unmistakable authority.

"Yes," you whisper, but the word feels too small, too weak. "But—"

He holds up a finger, the motion silencing you. You find yourself watching the thick vein against his temple throb as he stands slowly.

"Well," he steps closer tossing the medication aside with casual disregard as he nears. "I’ve had my share of betas." Lloyd confesses, his hand moving slowly toward you, and in one swift motion, ripping your blouse open. The fabric tears with a suddenness that makes your breath hitch. His eyes darken as he looks at your exposed shoulder, the heat of his gaze crawling along your skin. "Every one of them desperate for something only an alpha can provide."

“I wasn’t trying-I just wanted to,” you begin to sob as you shield yourself.

"Ah ah sweet tits," he tuts. "That’s what you beta types don’t understand. In the world of alphas your wants are not needed or required.” He lets his words hang and your thoughts fall to the words your sister spoke. You didn’t understand then what she was trying to say but it seems all to clear now.

“Looks like you caught me on a good day. I’m bored, and I’m willing to show you just what you're missing. I’ll mark you up, claim you. You want that right?"

You tense as his finger dance along your collar. Your sobs and sniffs the only nose to fill the void of despair that surrounds you.

“Beg me.” He commands flatly, his blue eyes piercing through you. Your hindbrain alerting to his call against your will.

"Please," you beg, but the words feel foreign. This isn’t what I wanted. It’s the drugs that keep you here. Mixing in your veins, clouding your mind.

A sharp whimper escapes you as his teeth sink into your flesh, the bite sudden, jarring, a sharp sting that radiates through your body. You gasp, the pain turning into something confusing, something that binds you. His tickles the tinder area as he hold tightens around you, his body like a wall as he presses closer. Blood begins to seep from the mark he left, staining your bra, soaking into the fabric.

The reality shatters and your mind scrambles to make sense of it. This was never how it was supposed to go. You try to push against him, but his strength is unyielding, the pressure of his body immobilizing you. "Stop,"

Your knees buckle as he pulls away, and the sudden dizziness overtakes you. Your vision swims, but before you can steady yourself, he lifts you effortlessly. The world tilts as he throws you onto the leather couch, your body slumping in a daze.

🟣

Your blood paints his face, the monster of an alpha on full display. You cling to him despite it all, nuzzling into his scent as he marches you away.

"Do you know what happens when an alpha knots a beta?" His voice is low, the words edged with a knowing grin, a kind of dark satisfaction curling at the corners of his mouth.

You shake your head, heart hammering in your chest. Helplessly, you watch as he sinks into the plush cushions of the sofa, the leather creaking beneath his weight. The air between you shifts, thickening, your body trembling slightly, your legs parting easily under the pressure of his hands—effortless, deliberate, commanding.

"Hmm? Don't want to take a guess?" Lloyd asks as his fingers graze your thighs, teasing the sensitive skin, before hooking beneath the edge of your panties. The touch sends a shiver up your spine as he slowly, deliberately, slides the fabric down.

He wipes the blood from his face with the discarded fabric, then tosses it carelessly to the floor. The gesture does little to erase the vivid stain of your claiming, crimson streaks still marking his skin like a brand of ownership.

The sight stirs a confusing knot in your chest—part horror, part fascination a Lloyd's hands slide to the hem of his shirt, crossing over his chest with a slow, fluid motion, the fabric peeling away from his frame. He moves with a quiet power, each shift of muscle beneath his skin a testament to the strength that lies beneath. You can’t look away—your body betraying you, a warm pulse of need igniting deep within as you inhale the tension that hangs heavy in the space between you.

"It takes a bit of effort," he continues, his voice thick with satisfaction. "But you’ll stretch, cry, and beg." His fingers hover over his pants, the button coming undone with a deliberate ease that sends a tremor through you. "But don't worry, sweet tits. My key always fits."

Your eyes follow as his pants fall, pooling at his knees. His cock bouncing slightly from the action the size thick, long and too much for your body to bar. It won’t fit. It can’t. There’s a challenge in his gaze that fills you with dread.

His muscles taut as he lowers himself above you, his eyes never leaving yours as you squirm beneath. His need presses against you, too close, too heavy, the heat of it sending waves through you. You want to close your legs, retreat, but there’s no escape. His body is a wall, blocking every exit.

“You feel that?” He asks, caging you in, his breath tickling your skin as his knot threatens to break you in two. “You want to be an omega so bad. Fine. You’re gonna take it. Every inch like a good little omega would.”

He lets out a guttural moan as you whale at the unbearable pain. The sensation is overwhelming—both sharp and molten. He stretches you, your walls straining to accommodate his girth. The ache is blinding as he sinks deep, grunting as he slaps into you.

“It’s too much,” you gasp, straining to take him, straining to breath out the fire that consumes you. You feel the pool of slick at your core, a dark need clawing out as your thighs squeeze around him.

“I forgot how tight betas can be,” he taunts, his voice rough. Your nails scrape down his shoulders, and a hiss of pain escapes him. Lloyd slows his pace to catch each wrist, gripping them surprising strength, pulling your hands above your head, pinning them there as he continues to punish you.

“I’m sorry,” you plead out, voice breaking with a desperate mix of shame and need. “I can’t take it.” You buckle beneath him, tears spilling from the overwhelming rush of anxiety and pain. Every inch of him presses into you, carving a path that leaves you breathless, caught between the sharp ache and the searing heat, where pain and pleasure blur together into a consuming haze.

“You can and you will.”

🟣

[iwudbutnah]

My interest is piqued. Can’t wait to see what you have in store for this.

no one asked for this, but im still writing it LOL

[iwudbutnah]

Perfect sleeping weather. Or a good book and some hot tea the ideas are endless.

Who wants to sleep here?

Darkness room and love >>>>

[iwudbutnah]

Drop this sunflower 🌻 into the inboxes of the blogs that make you happy! Let’s spread a little sunshine. ☀️

Definitely. I would love to show some of my fave blogs some appreciation for all they do. Starting with you, thanks for the asks and including me in some of the challenges and chains that have happened on here. I appreciate you. 🌻

[iwudbutnah]

You know what fuck you Bruce. He could’ve gone about that another way but to use reader as a pawn to get Clark to do his bidding yeah not cool at all. Jason have several seats. I get he wasn’t aware of Bruce’s plan but his own was a bit extreme. I knew reader would have chosen Clark regardless but Bruce you truly have earned all titles associated with you especially the negative ones.

| Rivals To Lovers - Clark Kent - Part Twelve - Clark Kent, Superman|

Pairings: Clark Kent x AFABBlackCurvyReader

Warnings: abduction, Red Hood, mild confusion, language, minors DNI, violence, Dark Clark, Murderous Clark, manipulation, Jason being angsty

I'm so sorry this took so long, ya'll. Life is happening and I was at a loss for what to write at the same time. I'm very sorry to ya'll that are in love with this. I haven't forgot about you, I promise! Thanks for all the likes and love and reposts!

If you don't like it, don't read it.

No one could've predicted that Clark would actually have gone through with it. Not even he himself. But there he was, standing in a room full of men he never even bothered to even speak to, blood splattered across his chest from their attempt to destroy him.

The Gatling gun was a solid touch too.

Arguably this could've been spun as a case of self defense by any of Bruce's army of lawyers. They'd defended way worse. But really, there was real no reason to involve them, seeing how no one was left alive and no one was going to report lack of harassment from the local assholes. So it was win/win.

Bruce's dirty work was done. By someone willing to kill.

More specifically willing to kill for you, but semantics.

He picked up what Bruce asked for, looked at his phone and started typing.

Done.

It wasn't long before he got a response.

That was quick.

They weren't too bright.

They never are. Anyway, assuming you're headed to her apartment, I think it's wise to let you know that Y/N isn't there at the moment.

Clark stopped mid-flight.

Bruce's phone began ringing. Bruce exhaled.

"Where is she, Bruce?"

"She's at a high-rise on my side of town. A colleague of mine is entertaining her."

He neglected to tell him that Jason had her with him. Given Jason's record, Clark was likely to panic even more. Granted, telling him it was a colleague of his probably didn't ease his thoughts. It was quiet for a moment on his end before the phone hung up.

Shit.

He was angry. Angry and homicidal. He had to get to Jason first.

Which was going to be a challenge since Clark was now heading in that direction.

Broken shards of his phone rained into the river he flew over as he sped towards Gotham. He had no idea what Bruce had planned, but he was furious. Why did he feel the need to have you taken from your apartment when he'd already decided to do what Bruce had asked? He was doing far too much.

Had he not have crushed his phone he could've asked about why you were taken

Maybe Bruce didn't know about it

Then again, Bruce usually knew about everything.

So he didn't want to hear it.

He'd had enough of Bruce's bullshit.

As had you.

You eyed the masked man sitting across from you. He seemed very amused by your anger towards him. At that point, you hadn't said anything more to each other after his talk with Bruce, but he seemed pretty content about it. He was pretty well armored, so hitting him with anything in the room was probably useless. That and his reflexes were probably on point if he worked with Batman, so you knew it was useless to try.

In the first place, if he worked with Batman, he must have been a "good guy", so it was strange that he had decided to kidnap you. But you didn't know the motivations or morals of superheroes. In the back of your mind, you reminded yourself about Clark and his intent to "steal" Lois from what'shisface.

Y'all know his name

Anyway, it reminded you that Clark was just as human-like as the rest of you, despite his alien origins. He often hinted that Bruce was dangerous, but maybe your bae was dangerous too.

No, he was definitely dangerous

The thought of it excited you more than you wanted to admit. A powerful, deity-like being choosing you to be his everything didn't sound like a bad deal, but you had never really considered the baggage that came with it. It was also terrifying.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he interrupted in a tone that suggested he was definitely smirking. Your eyes rolled to him, but rolled back to the window that you half expected Clark to crash through any moment.

"Just thinking. What are you getting out of all this? Why abduct me for Bruce when you know 'Golden Boy' is probably gonna kill you for it?"

"So you acknowledge you're important to him. Interesting," he said in the same tone which made you want to smack him.

"You wouldn't have taken me if you knew I wasn't, so cut the shit. What's this whole thing about?" you demanded in a less edgy tone, as you did when you conducted your interviews.

"If I haven't made it abundantly clear, it's about you and Bruce. Like I said, you've been driving him to distraction. So much that his focus has been on Metropolis lately. Which isn't a problem, unless you're Gotham's protector. Whether you know it or not, you're a liability for us unless..."

"I'm here," you said, completing his thought. You couldn't believe this stupid ass plan. Was he seriously planning to make you choose between Clark and Bruce? The whole thing felt incredibly pre-school and immature, but this dude seemed as impulsive as they came. Especially since he was risking life and limb to convince you to choose his favorite.

He seemed content to your understanding of his goal in this, but you were still unsettled as to why he was so calm about a potentially murderous Superman heading there to destroy him and probably everything he loved. Something didn't sit right.

You continued to mull over the thought until your eyes caught a familiar form in the distant sky. Clark. He hadn't seen you yet, but you guessed that all you had to do was say anything aloud and he'd hear you.

"You have something up your sleeve."

It was mostly to catch Clark's attention but it was a genuine theory that you were curious about. He didn't respond, instead looking at his phone. Clark hadn't budged either, but from the looks of things, he hadn't heard you.

"So now you don't have a smartass retort?" you provoked a bit louder, trying to catch his attention. You had no idea the range Clark could hear at, but apparently it wasn't as far as you thought.

"I mean, I could mention how your ploy to catch his attention isn't working, but I think you might be figuring that part out already," he said, still looking at his phone.

You're eyes flickered between him and the window. True enough, Clark hadn't budged, but you were realizing it wasn't because you were out of range.

"I'm broadcasting a high pitched frequency from several places that only he can hear. It doesn't do much, but it makes it a bitch to try and find you by listening for your voice. But seeing how he does that whole x-ray bullshit, I'd say we have a few minutes longer to hang out."

Your eyes floated to the phone in his hand, which was in a heavy, most likely shatterproof, case. He put it back into his arm plate, which closed it off from your access, so there was no point in trying for that either. Your blood boiled.

No. There was no use in losing your temper.

That'd only give him more of the upper hand. He expected that of you

You damn sure weren't in the habit of giving assholes what they wanted

You took a deep breath, straightening the skirt of your dress as you sat back in your seat. "Say I do choose Bruce. What's to say I don't change my mind?"

He was hesitant at your sudden cooperative shift. "Not my business. I'm only here to set the stage for you to choose. Bruce is a big boy. If you say enough, he'll back off."

You raised a brow. "If he's such a 'big boy', why'd you do all this instead of letting him approach me instead?"

Sensing you were levelling with him, he plopped down across from you again. "Bruce drags his ass. Especially when it comes to women. Sometimes drastic measures have to be taken to force his hand. To be honest, Bruce is the only choice here. Either you choose him, or I put an end to all this right now."

You didn't like the sound of "put an end to all this"

Not because of the grammatical phrasing either

His tone implied he had plans to keep you from "distracting" Bruce ever again

Was it really that deep???

Your eyes rolled to the side. "With friends like you-"

"Shit gets done," he finished, subtle laugh slipping from behind his mask.

As if on cue, the wall behind him violently seemed to be blown to pieces. The pictures and lamps fell with a helpless crash while you ducked as best you could on the sofa, covering your head for added protection. You were vaguely aware of your captor hovering a bit closer, shielding your unarmored body from any debris--not something a person bent on unaliving you might be concerned with--but your eyes were mostly focused on the figure walking through the hole in the penthouse.

"Clark," you breathed, a relieved feeling rushing over you. However, the Clark you knew wasn't there. This was Superman. A very pissed off Superman. His cold gaze swept over the armored man in front of you.

"Get away from her," he demanded, his tone sharper and colder than you'd ever heard from him. You've heard him be sarcastic, even a little cold and vindictive. But this. This was deadly.

"Easy, Flyboy. I haven't laid a single finger on her," Jason smirked.

He didn't respond. Instead, using his lightning speed, his powerful grip was around the man's throat, lifting him from the floor. You watched, polarized by the sight, unsure if he was bluffing or really about to snap his neck.

Sure, he'd abducted you and put you there and part of you was thinking he got what he deserved

But you didn't really want to see him die for it

Though, something wasn't right. Clark stumbled and his grip weakened around his throat until he'd dropped him altogether.

"Clark?!" you gasped, rushing to his side as the Red Hood corrected himself and caught his breath.

"See now that....That's why I prepared this little contingency," he said, one of the compartments in his wrist gauntlet overturned and revealing a glowing green stone in it. Kryptonite.

You'd heard and written about it's effects before, but it was the first time you'd seen it first hand. It looked radioactive almost. It was a sickening green, but you weren't the one feeling its effects. It was Clark.

His breathing was steady, but he looked drained, his forearms shaking from exposure to even that small bit. The chamber rotated shut again and Clark looked to breathe normally.

"You okay?"

He flashed you a soft, but brief smirk. "Are you okay?"

"A little rattled, but nothing I can't handle," you joked smoothly, not wanting the masked asshole to think he'd gotten the best of you.

Jason straightened himself and plopped on the sofa across from the both of you again.

"Now. Since I have your attention-"

"Jason," Bruce's voice called from across the room with every authority of a father. Jason didn't seem deterred a bit. In fact, he relaxed further into his chair.

"Bout time you got here."

"What you're doing isn't necessary," Bruce said evenly. Not unlike someone talking someone from a ledge.

You got the sense that you were a subject that was talked about before, though you didn't really know the context.

This time, he took his mask off, his eyes fiercely aimed at Bruce. He tossed a bitter chuckle at him.

"It's not necessary? Funny, for a while there, I thought this little tryst was all you seemed to fuckin' care about. You couldn't even come to see her when she called you."

You looked between them. Was he referring to Selena Kyle? Whoever that was.

Bruce exhaled. "I was busy-"

"Right. We're all supposed to understand how you piss off to play playboy while she's fighting for her life right now-"

You jumped when he screeched suddenly, his body stiffening as a jolt of electricity hit him. As he collapsed, a smaller, curvier form stood just behind him, taser in hand. Catwoman.

"Tantrum's over, Junior," she said, stepping over his body and meeting Bruce across the room.

"I might've known you'd keep your eye on him," Bruce said, eyeing her with an eerily similar look he was giving you in the park.

Your reporter senses were tingling, sensing the obvious history the two of them had.

The soap opera had taken a sudden left turn

At this point you didn't care anymore

You had a headache

(was Jason okay, or...?)

(he's breathing. it's fine.)

"So I take it the dress-" Bruce said, his eyes flickering over to you. You suddenly felt self conscious and exposed being brought back into the conversation.

"His idea, my execution. I mean. I couldn't very well let him undress an unconscious woman like a creep," she said.

You found yourself liking Catwoman quite a bit

Of course, you wondered why she'd help him if she knew what he was doing was wrong in the first place

But, truly like a cat, she had her own logic and reasons

Still, you were relieved that Jason hadn't seen all your business while you were out cold

"After I heard he was speeding off towards Metropolis, I couldn't bring myself to let him make a dumbass of himself. Call it a favor for my favorite Bat," she winked, though he looked less than amused to be owing her anything. She tapped the tip of his nose before exiting through the generous hole in the room made by Clark.

Then it was quiet. You helped Clark to his feet, though he seemed to be regaining his strength fairly quickly after the stone was securely back inside Jason's armor.

"You must think the worst of me," Bruce said, running a hand through his hair.

"I never really though much of you to begin with, but I'm sure you have an explanation," Clark said, still sounding thoroughly pissed.

Though not homicidal, so that was something

Bruce seemed to be wrestling with idea of telling you everything, but given the situation, it couldn't be helped. Jason had forced his hand.

"Strange's goons poisoned Barbara with a synthetic drug."

"I'm guessing that's why you needed this," Clark said, handing Bruce a vial.

Bruce took it, immediately scanning it with his watch. "The compounds in the poison is the only way to create an antidote. She left a tracker with one of them as they fled the scene and it pinpointed them being in the outskirts of Metropolis. Going in alone might've meant suicide, or worse, them smashing the vial. I needed to send someone they weren't expecting."

Your eyes drifted to Clark, who looked to have simmered down considerably. He was definitely not someone you'd expect. Your eyes swept down his solid form in his blood-stained spandex- Wait...

Did he kill for that vial?

When you'd imagined Superman, you always pictured a dude that always knocked out bad guys and sent them to jail, not to the cemetery

"What did you do?" you asked quietly, turning towards him. He didn't look at you immediately, instead taking a deep breath.

“When I saw you two on the street, I knew it was the perfect way to get him to do what I needed,” Bruce spoke up, sounding oddly like he was trying to defend him.

Clark’s eyes narrowed dangerously and Bruce didn’t say anything more, surrendering the situation to him.

Clark turned to you, his eyes softening considerably.

You knew what he wanted to say. What he was ashamed to admit. But you were done.

“Take me home," you said before he could even find the words to offer.

He quietly lifted you in his arms and effortlessly sailed from the window, leaving Bruce and Jason behind.

(Part 11)

[iwudbutnah]

Damn Gambit dealt her a bad hand. She didn’t know what she was getting into. Logan is gonna take real good care of her she just doesn’t know it yet. But if I ever saw Gambit again it’s on and I hope my alpha handles the light weight.

The Replacement

Transformation challenge

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used. Let me know if i fucked up and not do that. Chat me up i don't bite! Thank you @boxofbonesfic for letting me participate. 10k is so hard to do LOL so i failed i got to 10,832

Summary: Your boyfriend sells you off to Logan to settle his debts.

Warning: : Adult content only! 18+ only please. Dark! There is potentially triggering stories ahead. NoNcOn, dubious conscent, fingering, biting, blood, chocking

Dark Logan Howlett x Reader Biker AU, Horror, Werewolf AU, A/B/O

🐺

The brakes whine as you ease your car to a stop in front of a small house, three hours from home. You hadn’t planned to drive out here to help your boyfriend, Gambit, pay off his latest repair bill, but his desperation pulled you in. Poor Gambit—the unluckiest person you knew. If it wasn’t his bike breaking down, it was something else.

You check his text one last time to confirm the address, squinting at the low numbers on the side of the house. It looks more like a home than a shop. You peer over to the garage door, a tall figure hunches over a bike, smoke curling from the thick cigar between his teeth. Broad shoulders and muscular arms stretch against a sweat-stained tank top, streaked with oil and grime.

Stepping out the strong scent of oil and metal mesh together. You follow the narrow path toward him, unease settling in your stomach as you approach.

He looks up, his gaze hard and guarded. “What do you want?”

“Oh… hi, um are you Logan?” you stammer, clutching your wallet. “I’m here to pay for Gambit’s bike. He said to ask for you.”

He watches you with a hint of amusement as he wipes his hands on a towel. He steps closer, the tension making your breath hitches.

“Your piece-of-shit ‘boyfriend’ owes me more than that junk heap he calls a bike.”

You frown at his words. Gambit rubbed people the wrong way, you were used to that, but this felt a bit much.

“How much?” You ask swallowing thickly.

The man scoffs, taking a drag from his cigar before flicking the ash aside. “You’re not from around here, are you, sweetheart?”

“No… just in town for Gambit,” you reply, feeling small under his stare.

“Figures,” Logan mutters, exhaling smoke. “Betas always running away to the city, playing alpha like teenage pups.”

You blink, lost in his strange language. He smirks, lingering on the hickey on your neck.

“Bet that’s how you got that love bite.” He moves to touch you and you flinch away. You cover the love bite Gambit left on your neck, as Logan chuckles lowly, shaking his head.

“Look, I just want to pay what he owes.” you say, irritation lacing your words.

“Sorry, sweetheart, but money won’t cut it. Gambit tried to play alpha with an omega he had no business touching.”

His words hang heavy in the air. Jealous licks at you, but you don’t want to believe it. Gambit was a flirt, but he loved you.

“When a beta defiles an omega, he has to offer up a new omega in return.” Logan says. You instinctively step back, but he closes the gap.

“What… what do you mean?” Your brow wrinkles at his words.

“Gambit offered you as payment.” His gaze sweeps over you, making your skin prickle. “So, here you are.”

Disbelief and betrayal sting your chest. “No… he wouldn’t…”

“Believe what you want, but you’re mine now.” His voice softens, but there’s no warmth—only a quiet intensity. “You’ll make a nice little omega. Have you bare foot, all nested up, filled with pups.”

“You’re insane,” you whisper, heart pounding. You turn, shoving your wallet back in your bag. You won’t be part of this mess. “I’ll just have Gambit come and pay you himself.”

As you move to leave, Logan’s voice follows. “Run if you want. It won’t change anything.” There’s dark amusement in his tone, as if he knows something you don’t.

🐺

You toss your phone onto the passenger seat, jaw clenched. Gambit isn’t answering—of course not. You feel foolish. He was just using you, like everyone else, a sucker for sweet words and that deadly Cajun accent.

The faint growl of an engine pulls you back. A roaring hum behind you, chrome flashing as it draws closer, headlight bearing down, bright and unyielding. Your heart jumps, pulse racing.

You drift toward the shoulder, hoping they’ll pass, but the it stays close, the headlight glaring in your mirror. Panic flares. You accelerate, trying to distance yourself, but they match your speed, their engine snarling. You swerve, a loud thud jolts the car—they hit your rear bumper, shoving you off the road. The steering wheel jerking violently in your hands, as the car spins, skidding sideways into a tree.

Impact slams you, wiping your head back as the airbag deploys, and it all goes black.

Silence.

Your lashes flutter as the world spins in a hazy blur. The scent of damp soil and grass fills your noise as a sharper ache pulses at your neck. Slowly, your fingers drift up, brushing over a jagged wound. You draw your hand back, the tips glisten with dark wet blood.

Your heart pounds as you struggle to understand. There’s no sign of the car, only rough pine needles beneath you. The wind whispers through the branches, and an unsettling silence surround you.

With effort, you pull yourself up, every joint protesting. A flicker in the underbrush draws your eye—a shadow shifting too close. You hold your breath, feeling watched.

The ache in your neck pulses and heart races as the forest seems to grows still. Your eyes shift to the movement in the shadows, a massive black wolf emerges, eyes glinting like embers. You body moves on its own drawn to it, hypnotized by a feeling that you couldn’t break. You reach out as you near it, its low growl soothing like a melody.

A distant howl snaps you back. Your eyes grow wide with panic and without thinking, you turn and run, stumbling through the underbrush. You hear it gaining, nipping at your heels as if it enjoyed the chase. You whale as the scenery zooms. It slams into you, pinning you to the ground, its breath hot against the back of your head, trapping you beneath it.

🐺

You roll over, scrambling backwards, pressing against the rough bark of a tree as the creature rises on its hind legs. Thick black fur recedes slowly, revealing chiseled muscles beneath, steam curling off his bare skin. It’s human-Logan. Your breath catches and eyes go wild with disbelief.

"I told you, running wouldn’t help," he says, eyes simmering with dark resolve. He stands bare and unashamed, and you wrestle with yourself, resisting the pull of your gaze downward.

“I don’t understand. What-”

“I told you,” Logan says, stepping closer, and you press back against the tree, its rough bark biting into your skin. “Your beta boyfriend offered you up to settle his debt.”

“That mark on your neck?” His gaze flickers to it, dark and possessive. “That’s our bond. Only an alpha can turn a human into an omega.” He pauses, almost disdainfully. “I don’t care for humans—never have. But what’s done is done. You’re an omega now… mine.”

His words stir a warmth within you, mingling with the ache of your wound.

“Please, I just want to go home,” you whimper. You don’t know when the tears started, but the salty taste seeped into your trembling mouth.

“No, you don’t,” Logan replies confidently. He’s right you don’t. You want to be near him, more than you want to breathe. “What you want is to please your alpha… ain’t that right?” His voice is a soft growl.

You nod as if on command. “Now get up and take off your clothes.”

As though spellbound, you obey, your hands moving on their own. Stripping bare, you feel his intense gaze as he steps in, his touch grazing over you, unhurried yet possessive.

“Don’t worry. I’ll show you how to please an alpha,” Logan promises, setting your skin on fire with his touch. You gasp loudly as he snakes a hand around you, breathing you in.

His skin radiates heat, seeping into you. You grip his arm, as though grounding yourself against his force. You moan, melting as Logan cups your breast while the other sinks between your legs.

"That's it," he murmurs approvingly as your legs part, inviting him between your folds. His touch circles over your sensitive bud, and heat blooms under his fingers. You can’t help but grind against him, the need intensifying with each slow movement.

He presses his hard length against you, his hands roaming each breast, twisting and teasing your nipples before his teeth sink into the tender flesh of your neck. A haze settles over your thoughts, the world narrowing to just his touch, his presence. Your fingers knot in his hair, pulling him closer as his fingers slide deep into you, curling slowly, igniting a deep, pulsing need.

“Who is your alpha?”

The words feel strange but powerful, stirring something primal within you. You answer, breathless, “You.”

His gruff beard scratches against your skin as he licks the mark. The sensation driving a primal need for him to bite into it again, to feel his teeth claiming your flesh as his own.

“Do you know what a knot is?“ His voice is low, the question reverberating through you. You hum a no, head bubbling with anticipation of an answer you were primed to receive. “The knot is what binds us together, keeps you locked to me.”

“You feel that?” Logan asks as he presses his hard cock against your ass. He hums as warmth trickles down your thigh, your soaking his finger with your need.

You whimper still lost in your haze when he steps back and spins you around. You blink coming back into the dread of where you were.

“Wait, please… stop,” you cry out as Logan presses you firmly against the rough, unyielding bark of the tree.

“Are you gonna take my knot like a good omega?” He says it tauntingly as he traces the tip of his cock on your bare ass. You suck in a breath when you feel him at the entrance, your skin tingling as he holds it there.

“Say you want my knot.” He growls, curling over you, his hot breath fanning over your ear. You hiss as his nails sink into the soft flesh around your waist. You wanted him to stop and yet you didn’t.

“I-“ your voice croaks as Logan bottoms out with out warning. Your head drops forward as heat envelops over your back. You mewl as he rocks slowly, your body grading against the tree with every thrust of his hips.

“You take my knot so good.” He hisses as he finds a rhythm. His hand snakes around your neck, tightening as he pounds you harder and harder. His heavy breathing turned into animalistic grunts as his hips slapped against your ass harshly.

“You’re gonna be a good little omega for me. Aren’t ya darlin?” Logan lifts you by the neck, bodies flush against each other, slick with sweat. His face is close, too close, and you feel the pressure at your neck—teeth grazing, then sinking in.

“Ye-Yes!”

Pain blooms, spreading like a shockwave bites deeper. Your nails claw into his flesh, the feel anchoring you to him as heat pools in your core.

The ache is so deepen and tension so tight in your belly you can’t focus on anything but the slow, mounting pleasure that blurs the pain.

“Fuck I’m gonna fill you up….”

You feel his movements stagger, his breath more labored, but the chock hold on your neck stays firm. You feel him spill into you, overflowing as he pulls himself out.

The haze in your brain slowly starts to fade and panic swells grounding you back to earth. You turn away, legs weak hugging yourself, pressing once again your back to the tree.

“Don’t be so shy now darlin… Night is still young.”

[iwudbutnah]

I love this but I’m also a sucker for soulmate fics. I don’t blame reader I would get sick of the dream version and want the one I can’t touch physically in the present. I would have threw caution to the wind and went to Canada too. I say make part two a little of both some drama and some fluff/sweet.

Man of my Dreams - Logan/Black!Reader

Soulmate AU

They started when you turned 27.

The visions.

Or dreams.

Your light laughter filters through the room, your hands pressing along his abdomen as he rolls over on top of you. "Logan..." "Yeah sugar?" One of his hands wrap around your thigh, spreading your legs further apart. Your breath shudders as he starts to kiss down your neck.

Logan was his name.

He was a brute of a man. Muscular. Handsome. So very handsome. All your dreams were about him. Different ways you met. The hours of lovemaking. Fights. Dinners. Happy moments.

Every night you'd dream about Logan. It was a craving now. Going to sleep just to see him, and when you woke up, you craved him even more. You needed to find him. Just to see if he was real. You needed to know that he was real.

Man of My Dreams

You stare out into the morning light, seeing the trees gently sway with the breeze. You always knew when you were dreaming. It felt different here. Always did. Lately, every dream has put you here. On this empty farm of sorts. Filled with luscious green grass, leafy trees. One pick-up in the yard.

You're looking behind you as Logan comes out of the shower with a towel around his waist. You smile softly as Logan comes up beside you, pulling you close to him. "You're up early," He mumbles into your temple. "I know. I just couldn't sleep," He's hugging you tighter, "You okay? I thought you were tossin' and turnin' last night," "I'm okay...I just..." He's cupping your chin, tilting your head up. "Just what?"

Even here with him, right now, you knew that this wasn't all of it. He felt like he was here, but not all the way here. Not completely. "Logan..." Your eyes were starting to water as you look at him. He's never seen you like this. "I want you, so badly. I need you," "You have me darlin'...what's this about?"

He's gripping your face gently, lifting your head level with his. "I'm dreaming. You're not real. None of this is real. I've dreamt of you over and over and over...and I just..." "I'm real. I'm here. We're together....look, get back into bed, I'll make you dinner," "I don't want to go to bed. I want to...find you. Or stop dreaming of you. Where is this place? Where are you?"

Logan is guiding you to the bed despite your protest. "Just lay down baby," "But Logan..." "I don't know what's gotten into you but you'll be fine. I'll fix this. I'll make this right," He was stepping away from you as you sat on the bed, running his hands through his hair. "And I thought Canada would be better," He mumbles.

Man of My Dreams

Canada.

The pelting rain has you squinting as you pull into the diner. It was almost ten at night, and you were exhausted. You wouldn't stop though. Not until you found him.

Your body was driving based on need. You didn't give yourself time to ponder on this. Plan this. You thought about it for maybe two days, but you knew that you would travel wherever you needed to be.

You quickly sprint into the diner, shaking your head slightly. The diner was mostly empty save for a few patrons. A part of this felt familiar, but you didn't know if this place had been a part of your dreams before.

It wasn't easy getting here. You didn't know what part of Canada to start in, but the more you thought about your dreams, you realized a lot of it felt familiar, and at this point you were going off your instincts.

This diner was the answer you needed.

"Last call for the night. Hey honey, what can I get ya? Food might be a bit cold, but we've got hot coffee," You're shaking your head politely before walking over to the counter. The woman was older. Maybe in her 60s. "I was actually wondered if you knew someone. Someone named Logan. Um, he's about 6'2, burly man, southern charm, in a...in a savage kind of way," The woman is chuckling slightly before shaking her head. "I think I may know who you're talking about. He's a weird but cute one. Lives up the road, about an hour East. Sure you don't want anything? Coffee for the trip?"

*****

You shiver as you pull up to the home shrouded in darkness, the trees in the yard shaking violently. This was it. You could feel him. He was inside. He was real.

You were turning off your car before taking in a few deep breaths. What do you do? What do you say? You never imagined you'd meet him.

A harsh tapping on your window grabs your attention, and you're looking out into the rain-streaked window into a pair of familiar eyes.

AN: Wasn’t sure who to tag so I tagged my main one’s. Now part two is being written which I can have out tomorrow but I’m wondering what you guys want to see. Drama or keep it all fluffy and sweet.

@usertragedys

@adoreyouusugar

@louderfortheback

@ellethespaceunicorn

@cyberughh

@thabiddie23

@winters-doll

@motivation-idontknowher

@princess76179

@darkserenity24

@1andonlytashae

@greeniegreengreen

@sebastians-love

@queerqueenlynn

@darkbreezybri

@himboelover

@exhaustedfangirl

@sunkissedebony97

@megamindsecretlair

@notapradagurl7

@bigbratmo

@lotustv

@ciaqui

@happynat3

@cardierreh15

@crosbyfluerygirl

@aizawash0e

@astoldbyfudgelovely

@tragictals

@obsessedlilqueen

@justalovelyblackgf

@iwudbutnah

[iwudbutnah]

Lmao at her saying you don’t look like a Clark. I don’t blame her I would be freaking out not only cause he Superman but cause you know you’ve taken preventative methods and they still failed. Then again he ain’t human and probably got that super peen with the super sperm so she was bound to end up a mother fucking with him. I like that he is down bad for one and has her back no matter what. I’m loving this series. Can I be added to you tag list of all fics please?

We Them Kents - Expecting

Summary: When you found out you were pregnant

Your thumb shook as you contemplated calling him.

It was the only thing he left for you to contact him by. Not a name. Just a number.

You and Superman weren't really official. It wasn't traditional dating by any means as you didn't know who he really was, but after that night....when the two of you touched for the first time, nethe rof you could stop.

It wasn't just fucking.

Though he couldn't take you out, he brought you flowers, he would sometimes bring takeout. Watch movies with you over the weekend.

Take you out on a picnic where no one could see.

This thing with Superman was different. That's all you could say.

You never had to call him for anything, and he insisted that if anything was ever wrong, all you had to do was call. You were hesitating. What if you were about to make this into some huge deal?

But what if you weren't?

You had about three different pregnancy tests on the bathroom counter, too scared to look at them, knowing damn well they were ready.

You stomach churned with anxiety.

What if you were pregnant?

What would you do? How would he feel? How do you feel?

The signs were there though. The throwing up. Lightheadedness. Your period has now been considered late by pregnancy websites. Tender breasts. The fucking cravings.

"Fuck it..." You mumble, pressing call as you walk your way to the bathroom.

It only rings once before his voice is floating on the other end.

I was just thinking about you

You have to smile at that, letting out a breath as you walk into the bathroom, staring at the three different tests innocently sitting on the counter. "Were you? That's sweet, real...sweet....oh my god," Your heart feels like it could beat right out of your chest. Your whole body feels like it's on fire right now. In a good way and bad way.

The screens all said the same thing.

Pregnant.

What's wrong? Are you alright?

"I um...how fast can you get her-,"

Before you could even finish your sentence, you could hear the doorbell ring.

You're grabbing the tests before hanging up your phone, making your way to the front door.

How could this happen? You wore condoms and was very diligent with your birth control.

You're opening the door before he could almost tear it down, quickly stepping inside and closing it behind him. "What's wrong?" He's taking in your perplexed expression, cupping your face as you tried gathering your words. "I...I haven't been feeling well lately, and..." He's pulling away briefly to look you over with his own eyes, brows knitting together in confusion.

"I don't see anything-," "I'm pregnant," You murmur, showing him the positive tests. "I-I-I-I don't...how this..." You stutter, watching him as he took the tests in his hands, tilting his head. "I know...protection and all, but I promise you, you're the only one-," He's holding up a hand to stop your rambling, stepping closer to you once more.

"I know you're faithful to me. I know there is no other. If these are accurate, you are carrying my child," He's cradling your face as your eyes start to water. "Everything will be okay. I promise. I will be right here with you," "We haven't even been together for that long...I..."

"What you decide to do with your body is your decision, but I'd like to be included in whatever decision that is. If you decide to carry, you will be the mother of my kids, and I intend to continue seeing you regardless. Relax, you're shaking..." He's guiding you to the couch, sitting with you as you lean into him. "I'm terrified," You mumble into his shoulder, gripping tightly gripping onto his hand.

"Shhh, I know. I've got you,"

You weren't sure why you started crying, an accumulation of things probably, but you did. All he did was hold you until you stopped, slowly rocking back and forth with one hand over your head and the other pressed along your stomach.

The silence stretched for a few minutes after, leaving you with racing thoughts and the feeling of comfort, only to be broken by your companion.

"Clark. Clark Kent is my name. That's...who I am..."

You're nudging your head out from under his chin, looking up at him with eyes he's since grown fond of. "You don't look like a Clark," He's chuckling softly, kissing your forehead.

We Them Kents Series

@usertragedys

@adoreyouusugar

@louderfortheback

@ellethespaceunicorn

@cyberughh

@thabiddie23

@winters-doll

@motivation-idontknowher

@princess76179

@darkserenity24

@1andonlytashae

@greeniegreengreen

@sebastians-love

@queerqueenlynn

@darkbreezybri

@himboelover

@exhaustedfangirl

@sunkissedebony97

@megamindsecretlair

@notapradagurl7

@bigbratmo

@lotustv

@ciaqui

@happynat3

@cardierreh15

@crosbyfluerygirl

@aizawash0e

@astoldbyfudgelovely

@tragictals

@obsessedlilqueen

@justalovelyblackgf

[iwudbutnah]

That man can wear a damn suit. He’s the definition of you wear the clothes don’t let the clothes wear you. Looking good Mr. Hodge.

He know he look good!!