#I always write it that you always have to question “is this just bad luck or is this the consequences of their actions”

[bokutosbabe]

Did You See Me On TV?

( bllk boys and being in a long distance relationship )

a/n — thought about this and just HAD to write. no long distance relationship experience, but def some long distance friendship experience. rather short, but i had to get it out.

content — fem! reader, set in the ' Neo Egoist ' era, some characters repeated, all characters 18+, angst, fluff, maybe some ooc for some people??, nicknames 'love' , 'babe' , 'baby' , ' my girl ' , and 'sweetheart' used

synopsis — yes, he's a world famous soccer player, but he's also your boyfriend. how does this effect your relationship?

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' you tell yourself it's fine, ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' radio silence '

it's been a month since your boyfriend had left to go play for the soccer team he'd been assigned to, and what had you heard from him?

...complete and utter silence.

you understood he was busy now, you really did, but he hadn't even called while he'd been gone. any text he sent was no more than 3 words.

you were still in love with him, but was he in love with you anymore? had he forgotten all about you? was there another girl that was better than you?

the promise the two of you had made before he left sat on your tongue like lead now.

" you'll come back whenever you can, right? " you'd asked him. " for you? always. i couldn't imagine a life without you. i promise i'll call every chance i get. "

you stared at your phone, the text you'd sent him before his game started staring back at you...mocking you.

you: good luck, love!! i'm rooting for you from home! i love you, have fun, don't get hurt. call me when you can <3

it was almost pitiful. three almost exact texts sat above that one, and he hadn't even bothered to read them until after the game, simply replying with a...

him <3 : thanks

and no, if you were wondering, he hadn't ever called you.

and here you were, like a fool, curled up in your bed watching his game on live TV, watching as he made his second goal of the day.

maybe, just maybe, he'd call you after this one.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ SAE ITOSHI, isagi yoichi, RIN ITOSHI, oliver aiku, OTOYA EITA, rensuke kunigami

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' a complete mess '

he'd been gone a month, and you can't count a single day he hasn't called you three times at minimum. you'd been together for a while, but you never realized how much he relied on you to do basic everyday tasks for him.

"babe? do you know where i usually keep my long socks?" you heard come from your phone speaker as you were trying to do your own homework, mind you.

" usually in the middle of your top drawer next to your underwear. unless you've changed it. " you stated, he'd asked you this question every single time he had a game since he had left, but you wouldn't dare expect him to remember that.

" you're the best, baby. what would i do without you? " your boyfriend asked as he pulled socks out of his drawer, propping his phone up on the bedside lamp as he slid the socks onto his feet.

" lose your head, probably. " you joked, looking up from your work to admire him.

yes, everyone got to see him as the big, bad soccer player on TV, but with you? he seemed like a completely different person, not someone who could get a hat trick and also simultaneously asking where their phone is while it's in their hand.

" your games soon, love. you gotta get going. " you helpfully reminded him, as if you were his personal alarm ( you were but that's besides the point )

" ah crap, thank you baby. i'll call you after i win," he said cheekily. " i'll score a goal just for you, so make sure you watch!"

" you know i will. call you later, i love you. " you reflected his smile through the phone. " i love you too! " he repeated. and just as you were about to press the 'end call' button...

"oh, baby? do you remember where i put my jersey?"

yeah, without you he'd be a train wreck.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, bachira meguru, HIORI YO, gin gagamaru, ZANTETSU TSURUGI, ranze kurona

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' basically married '

it'd been a month since your boyfriend had left to go play professional soccer, and out of the four games he had played, you'd been flown out for three of them.

" do you like it? " he asked giddily, as if he was a child on christmas morning waiting to open presents. but instead of a gift, it was him showing you the hotel room he'd gotten you so you could watch his game this week too.

" you're too sweet to me, love. i would've been happy just sitting at home and cheering you on from there. " you told him. " nope! you're no longer allowed to watch the games from home," he said as if it was a fact.

oh, soccer players and their superstitions.

" even the whole team agrees! my girl is our lucky charm! "

the one game you missed, because you had a big test may i add, they lost. it wasn't a horrible loss, no, they went into additional time and lost 5-4.

your shock and confusion must have been written all of your face, because he just laughed. " c'mon sweetheart, why don't you just come live with me here ? "

many reasons, actually. you still had school, it was across the world (not really but it felt like it ), your family, your friends.

he knew all of this, of course. there usually wasn't a day that you seriously considered it. considered being here, with him, instead of having to facetime and miss him.

one day, you would, but not now...you think.

"oh, hush. you gotta get going, you have a game to win." you huffed, pushing at his shoulder to hopefully get him going out the door.

"alright, alright. i'll come back with you after the game, sweetheart. i love you, see you after my win! "

and win he would, because he swore to himself that if he won this game the velvet box that was hiding in his dresser would finally be able to come out.

but, hey, even if he didn't win, would you say no to the ring he had custom made for you?

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ REO MIKAGE, isagi yoichi, YUKIMIYA KENYU, chigiri hyoma, nijiro nanase, BARO SHOEI

⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' you're just in love ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

this was really written on a whim, but i hope yall liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated!

[deoidesign]

Can you make a tutorial on how you world build and make ocs? I can't seem to make any people in my brain, but then when I try to come up with environments jobs, beliefs and little details to slowly come up with someone, I think: well I don't really know how people have influenced the world- it's a weird loop

To be honest, I don't think I can! Writing is an extremely personal process. The way I write is directly related to how I process things, what I find important in stories, years of my own analysis of my and other's writing, etc... The way you write will be unique to you, as well. But I can explain how I personally think of it.

The short answer:

Write. Write anything and everything, it's a tool to explore your ideas. Analyze your own writing, and write more. Then, as you discover which ideas you want to develop, write more to explore them more. You won't know what you want otherwise!

The long answer:

I think this kind of loop is common. It's easy to feel like everything needs to be done "at once," because our job as writers is to make elements logically fit with each other for our readers. But as you've discovered, developing multiple elements simultaneously isn't really possible, or at least is extremely difficult.

Personally, when I think of writing, I break it into three major elements; characters, world, and plot. As much as possible every scene explores one or more of these, and as much as possible these three things tie back into what I personally consider most important: theme.

Everything I do is in service of the themes I want to present. Without them my events feel aimless. It can take a while to discover them, but they're the core of my work. You will have to discover what you feel is the core of yours. Analyzing other media helps with this too.

Concepts in your brain exist in a state of infinite potential. But when you start writing you have to start making choices, which removes potential as you move forward... But you have to move forward anyways. If there's ideas you want to explore later, you can always explore them later.

What this ends up meaning, to answer your question, is that I don't think of my characters as "people in my brain" or my worlds as something people have influenced... Not at their core, at least. They are tools that I use to represent specific ideas. Obviously they're also my blorbos, but mostly they're serving a specific narrative purpose.

So above all else... Write. Write, and discover what you're writing about, and then start over and write with that in mind. Keep doing this. But you have to write!

[pleafyistired]

OUGJHFHF I READ IT. THE BACK AND FORTH... THE JUICY BETRAYAL... the way they both have eachother but they can't have eachother because everything about their situations are pitting them against the other... - 🕶

and its only JUST STARTING MY FRIEND! ^_^ i havent even gotten to talk about their personalities and personal journey and how ecah of them view what happened yet! ^_^ i havent talk to you about the side characters, the Antagonists, the symbolisms packed in every aspects and even JUST their dynamic. Thats only 1/3 or the story ^_^

[supercantaloupe]

a word of unsolicited advice....don't do two masters programs and two jobs all at the same time, bad idea

[novelistparty]

So how are your stats these days? Been leveling up that Vigor and Mind?

[suhkusa]

TO THE TOP.

PAIRING. Sakusa Kiyoomi x f!Reader

SUMMARY. Sakusa Kiyoomi was ranked #1 in his class. Was, at least until you came along. After this revelation, he makes it a (personal) challenge to overtake you. Sakusa Kiyoomi is a genius at everything he does, but for once he finds it a challenge when it comes to you.

CW. hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, rivals to lovers except kiyoomi is the only one competing, idiots in love (but theyre actually geniuses), high school setting, ~3k words

A/N. Got inspired from a tiktok and came up with this word vom hope u enjoy

Everything came easy for Kiyoomi. Academically, at least.

While all his classmates found themselves struggling to take tests or study, it was as natural as breathing for Kiyoomi. There were some cons to being as incredibly intelligent as him, but he found himself drowning in the gratification of being #1. 

At least until the 2nd semester of his third year. At least until you.

———

Class Rank: 2

Sakusa finds himself staring at the transcript in his hand, as if his ogling would have an effect in changing the number presented before him.

His eyes scan through his class history, looking for any clues as to how he might’ve dropped in ranking. But there was nothing. All A’s, and as many extra classes stuffed into each year as possible. 

Kiyoomi’s home room was rowdy as students caught up with one another, as winter break had just ended. While in his own little world, his ears catch onto a couple of words his classmates threw around.

“I heard Sakusa isn’t the top in our class anymore, is that true?”

“Woah, hasn’t he been the top of our class since the 1st year? I wonder who was able to catch up,”

His eye twitched a bit at that one.

“It was that new girl, Y/N,”

The paper crumbled slightly under his grasp. Y/N?

The ring of the bell, signifying the start of class, caused him to slightly jump in his seat. Kiyoomi crumbles his transcript before tossing it in his bag, it’s going to change soon anyways.

He would just have to step up his game.

———

It was ironic really. The world really loved to test Sakusa Kiyoomi, and not only at his school subjects. Of course, you were his desk partner in his math class. Only he had the amazing luck of being seated next to his new self-declared rival.

Kiyoomi knows it’s rude to stare, but he can’t himself because you’re the number one student? You?!

Honestly, you don’t seem like the academic type. You seem too pretty to be caring about stuff like that. At first, he considers the fact that you could be using your looks to get people to do the dirty work for you. But he witnesses first-hand as you write down every math equation, answer every question correctly, and even check your work not once, but twice.

His hyperfixation on you is bad. So bad, he missed the whole introduction lesson and is trying to rapidly copy down what’s on the whiteboard as the teacher is erasing it. Fuck-

“Would you like to see my notes?”

Kiyoomi’s pencil comes to a halt as he looks back at you, your papers are being pushed towards him on the desk. He watches as your eyes widen, as if you suddenly became self conscious. 

“I-Is there something on my face? You were staring at me so I wasn’t sure…”

Shit. 

“No,” he tries to make up something, but what comes out of his mouth is stupid, “I was just looking past you,��� it appears it’s sufficient though, as you nod in response.

“I see, well, did you want to see them?” you gestured to the notes between the two of you.

Kiyoomi tells himself that if you hadn’t offered, he wouldn’t have asked. But since you oh so kindly offered them up, who was he to say no? He doesn’t need them. He could always ask his cousin, though his handwriting resembles chicken scratch more than human writing.

“Sure,” he takes the papers and positions them in a way where he could just look between them and his own.

In his head, Kiyoomi is scolding himself over and over again for not paying attention. This cannot be a regular thing. If he was going to take back his rank, he needed to be on his A-Game. 

His pencil slaps against his desk as he finishes, quickly sliding your papers back towards you.

“Thanks,” Kiyoomi offers.

He watches from his peripheral vision as you smile and give back an “Anytime,” before gathering your things and getting up to go to your next class.

Kiyoomi doesn’t know what it was about you, but he could tell he was going to need to up his game. This was war.

———

By the second week of sitting by you, he decides you’re annoying. More annoying than the people who talk while the teacher is talking. Which, in his book, is hard to beat.

Maybe you weren’t as smart as he pinned you to be, since you kept helping Kiyoomi with his work when he did not need it. 

Though, you were only able to backseat his work because you somehow finished before him. He’s used to being the only one who sits back and relaxes as the rest of his class struggles to complete the practice problems. 

It’s weird though. Because as much as Sakusa hates your yapping, he doesn’t find himself putting an end to it. Instead your voice plays in the background as he completes his work.

He hates it, or at least that’s what he tells himself, the way you praise him like a little kid when he finally completes the work sheet. 

“Nice job!” you smile at him, “but, how come you don’t check your work to make sure you’re right?”

“Because I’m always right,” he replies with a slight roll of his eyes.

You laugh at that, I’m not joking, he thinks.

“You’re funny, you know that?” you tell him. 

Kiyoomi gives you a shrug, “Whatever,”

———

A month in, he begins to indulge in your shenanigans. But only because he had felt bad.

During the third week of sitting by each other, you had taken his short and dry responses personally. You halted your chatter and no longer offered to help like you usually did. The way the classroom felt quiet without your talking was eerie, so Sakusa reluctantly decided that he’d rather hear your voice instead of nothing at all. 

So a month in is when your friendship, or whatever you called it, began with him.

“Why do you use erasable pens? Just use a pencil,” he questions you, eyes peering down at your pen.

You look taken aback as you respond, “I don’t know, is there something wrong with it?” you examine your pen, “I just found it on the floor and stuck with it,”

First of all, gross, remind him not to touch you or your belongings ever. “It’s just a hassle, sometimes it doesn’t erase,”

“Well, it hasn’t given me any problems, so!” you exclaim as you get back to write on your practice quiz. “This is kind of challenging, huh?”

“Nah,” he lies, “You’re just stupid,”

You laugh in his face, “Rude,” Kiyoomi watches as you glimpse at his paper before going back to yours, “That’s why you got the first problem wrong and I didn’t say anything,” 

Sakusa can feel his eyebrows scrunch up, he’s quick as he glances at it and then yours. Fuck. He’s mumbling something under his breath and he begrudgingly erases the circle around his answer. 

“Told ya,” you smile before moving onto the last problem, “you know, we should hangout or something,”

“No,” he’s quick to cut you off, catching you by surprise.

“Whaaat, it doesn’t have to be like that, weirdo,” it seems like you’re going back on what you meant, “Like to study,”

“Still, no,”

“C’mon, don’t knock it till you try it,” you nudge at him, and to be honest, if you were anyone else he might’ve punched you, “please, just once,”

You’re annoying and pushy. But he supposes that if saying yes to you would get you to leave him alone, he’d say, “Fine, whatever, it has to be my house, though. Your house is probably messy,”

Kiyoomi watches as your face slowly brightens before silently celebrating to yourself as you get your way with him once again.

———

“Wow,” you’re amazed as you walk through Sakusa’s house, “your house is so nice, do you have a maid to keep it clean or something?”

“No, just me,” he says before leading you into his room, “please don’t make a mess,”

“I won’t, I won’t,” you say before settling down on his rug, playing with the soft threads, “Okay, I was hoping to review the practice quiz, I know the teacher said I got it right but I feel like there were some parts that had me second guessing myself,”

You’re quick to open up your textbook and blab about whatever problem you were having trouble with. You actually came over to study. Kiyoomi was under the impression that once you got over to his house you’d make him do whatever silly shit you usually have in mind. But no, you actually respected his wishes. Which in turn, earned you some respect from him as well.

“So you’re number one, huh?” He asks, looking up from his textbook to meet your eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s surprising that all my credits from my old school carried over,” you mindlessly say as you continue to write on your sheet of paper.

The sound of the pencils scribbling on paper fills the room before you interrupt it, “You were rank one before I came, right?”

His pencil stills, “Mhm,” It was a touchy subject, though he never thought he’d hear it from you.

“I’m sorry,” you surprised him, “When I found out I took your ranking spot, I was nervous because people are serious about that stuff. And then, when I got seated by you and you stared me down, I thought you hated my guts,”

Well, you had it down to the T, but he wouldn’t tell you that. 

“You don’t have to apologize, it’s out of your control,” you smile at his words.

“Thank you,”

It’s then, in his room, when he realizes he’s losing sight of his goal. To overtake your position. As he watched you look back down at your textbook, he found himself locking in as well. 

He needed to get serious, now.

———

These hangouts, or study dates, or study hangouts, whatever, became basically practice. Always at his house, though. Since he couldn’t fathom the idea of how dirty your room might be. 

“I don’t know how you balance volleyball and school, Omi,” you say from your position lying on his floor.

“Don’t call me that,”

You laugh before continuing, “All I do is school and I’m always exhausted. I had to quit my shifts at the cafe down the road because I would fall asleep before making it to my room,”

“Dangerous, Y/N,” he says, frantically writing down practice problem after practice problem. 

Picking yourself off the ground, “Wow, you’re serious about this final, huh, Omi,”

He glares at you, causing you to laugh again, “Sorry, sorry,” your eyes meet his for a brief second before he looks back at his paper, “but you know it’s okay to take a break, right, that’s all you’ve been doing. We haven’t even gotten to try to compete for today’s Wordle yet,”

“Mhm,” is all he offers you.

You sigh in response to that, “Boring, so boring,” you say as you lay back down

“You can go home if you’re bored,”

“Ugh, rude,” you roll around to make yourself comfortable, “I would but sadly I like being in your presence,”

“Whatever you say,”

“Do you like being in mine?” you question, causing Sakusa to hesitate on the problem he was on.

“You’re tolerable,”

You find yourself cheesing, “That’s a yes in my book,”

———

Finals are coming up. There’s so much on your mind, that you finally decide to let one of the thoughts that have been driving you crazy go. The fact that you like Sakusa Kiyoomi. 

It’s nerve wracking. Not only because you’re basically confessing your feelings, but also because he’s your only friend you’ve made since being here. A lot of people think he’s rude and condescending, but to you he’s different. 

He lets you talk your head off about whatever your brain decides fits best. And while he gives you short responses, they show you that he’s listening and observant. He’s on your level regarding academics and can keep up to your train of thought. He just cares.

And while you hope he might feel the same despite only knowing you for the past couple of months, you chalk it up to fate as to whether or not your intuition is correct.

As you approach the gymnasium, you slow and quiet your steps as you hear familiar voices by the entrance.

“You’ve been hanging out with Y/N quite a bit, huh, cous’? Your mom told mines,” you assume is Komori based on his words.

“Yes. It’s not like that, though,” you recognize as Sakusa. 

You assume he might be fronting since it is his cousin, and feelings are embarrassing at times.

“C’mon, you can’t tell me you don’t like her, she’s like one of the prettiest girls in class and she’s smart. So like, your type,” Komori pushes. And while part of you likes that he said that, you soon take it back after Kiyoomi’s words.

“I don’t like her. I only put up with her because she’s so pushy and always hovers over me while I try to do my work. Plus, she took my ranking spot,”

The world feels silent for a second, the only sound audible to you is the sound of your heart slowly breaking.

“She’s just a nuance, honestly,”

Your feet are moving before you realize. Slowly backing away before running the opposite direction.

He doesn’t like you? You were right that he hates you because you’re number one? He let you into his house but only because you pushed him? Your thoughts are running faster than your own legs, you don’t even realize the drips of water slowly running down your cheeks. 

If number one was what he wanted, then you were going to give it to him.

———

Kiyoomi finds it weird. Finds you weird. Well, he’s always found you weird, but particularly as of recent. But only because you’re quiet. And have been for the past couple of days. 

At first, he assumes it’s because the finals had finally arrived and you wanted to focus on your work. Which, respect, because it also allowed him to focus on his own. 

But even after the finals had passed, you were still quiet. You opted for doodling in your notebook instead of talking to him about a new video game you’ve hyper fixated on or this new show you started to watch. 

It’s even weirder when the teacher is going around passing out the graded math finals, that he stops by your desk, letting out a whispered, “I’m disappointed in you, Y/N,” 

Kiyoomi hears, and it calls his attention towards your paper before even his own. His eyes widened.

A big, fat, red 0 marked at the top of your quiz.

“Y/N-”

“Are you happy now, Number 1?” you ask, still looking down at your paper.

He’s about to ask you what the hell you’re talking about before the bells conveniently cut him off, allowing you to take off without a second glance back at him.

His mind is caught up on your words, Number 1. Kiyoomi has never brought up his disdain regarding the rankings to you, ever. Yes, it bothered him at first. But eventually he didn’t mind it, since the only person he’d ever allow to be above him is you. 

Kiyoomi thinks back on any time he’s ever mentioned it before he remembers the one time he had ever verbally brought it up to anyone. But there was no way… unless.

Fuck, Sakusa thinks as the bright red 100 on his paper stares back at him. It mocked him, poking at his head uncomfortably. Without a second thought, he crumbles the paper before stuffing it into his bag. Kiyoomi had finally gotten back what he’s been working for this whole time, so why does he feel empty?

Kiyoomi realizes then that while you may have lost your Rank 1 position, he was the true loser. Because he didn’t have you.

———

He finds himself at your door before he even knows it. He’s giving an excuse of “she left her notebook,” to your parents as they direct him to where your room is. 

When he finally walks in, he’s shocked. Your room is clean. 

Even as you lay in your bed so peacefully, the space around you is clean, and he feels like it’s safe to walk in. 

“Y/N,” is his first attempt at waking you up, before he’s walking closer to your bed, crouching down a bit to pat your back, “Y/N,” again.

It’s by the fourth or fifth time that he calls your name that you finally look up at him, and you look heavenly.

He’s always known you were pretty, but even more so now you were gorgeous, hair messy, eyes droopy with sleepiness. You were perfect.

Your eyes blink a couple times before you look like you’ve processed who is standing before you. Quickly sitting up, hands moving every which way to fix your appearance, “Omi- I mean Sakusa what are- what do you want?”

Ouch.

“You need to leave, I-I don’t want to see you,” your voice is beginning to tremble and it hurts him, “You finally got what you wanted, I don’t know what more you want,”

“You, I want you,”

Your face drops in disbelief, “No, you don’t. I heard you, what you said,”

“Y/N-”

“No, you hurt me, Kiyoomi. I like you,” you cry, “You can’t just say all of that and then show up out of nowhere claiming otherwise,”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he’s kneeling now, allowing him to be the same height as you as you sit in your bed, weeping, “I-I’m sorry,”

His rough thumb smoothes away your tears as they fall, “I didn’t mean it, I was frustrated- and that’s no excuse for what I said, I fucked up really bad,” with every word another sob breaks loose from you, “And I’m sorry,”

“At first, all I ever wanted was to be rank #1, but then you came along and changed everything… Then I realized that it wasn’t being #1 I wanted, it was you,” he continues, “and that’s scary, because my ranking was all I’ve known all these years,”

“But even so, you made it okay. I was okay with being #2, I was so caught up in you that I forgot I ever wanted to be #1 in the first place,” your eyes finally meet behind the thick tears in your lashes, “I like you, Y/N,”

He can tell you’re at a loss for words. And for once he can finally say he has out-talked you. 

Until finally, you decide words aren’t sufficient in this situation. Before he knows it, you’re leaning forward, and your lips are on his. The kiss is short, but definitely more than a peck. But it felt infinite to Kiyoomi. He never wanted the moment to end, and found himself sad as you finally pulled away.

You stared him down for a brief second before tackling him down to the ground in a big hug, “I hate you, Omi,” you laugh angrily.

“Sure,” he smugly replies, watching as you smile into his shirt.

“My number one,” you sarcastically mutter as you fake pout at him.

He cringes, “Ugh, don’t. I feel guilty, why would you even do that? You’re crazy,”

“Because I don’t care about the ranking. I never did. Plus it somehow only dropped me to #2 since the rest of our class failed and I’ve taken too many extra classes,” you say, “I only cared about you,” 

Kiyoomi smiles at you before crushing you in his hug. 

Everything came easy for Kiyoomi. Especially now, his feelings for you.

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[not-neverland06]

Hey! Love your writing and love Flux!! I was hoping to request a kind of angsty/fluffy fic with the worst!wolverine where the meet her in the void and maybe Logan knew her just not very well and he’s finally letting himself open up and be close with her (likewise with reader/flux towards logan) and they get into an argument or maybe logan has a nightmare and he ends up stabbing her with his claws and maybe the aftermath of him beating himself up and sabotaging the new relationship until reader finally snaps him out of it and says it was an accident and she still loves him?? Thanks!!

mistake

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

a/n: I want to thank you for this request because I've been having the worst writer's block in the world. I was worried about having to go into another unofficial hiatus, but this made something in my brain click together and I knocked it out in two hours. my life is yours 🙏🙏 Summary: You know him. Or, you knew him. And you never blamed him for what happened in your world. It wasn't his fault that everyone you loved died and you barely escaped with your life. But you never actually thought you'd have to see him again. You don't know what to do when all these feelings resurface with his appearance.

No one truly knew who you were back in your universe. After the horrific incident at the mansion, you had run. You’d run as fast and as far as you could from the slaughter of your friends. You’d barely escaped with your life, and from the amount of blood and gore they’d left behind, most people just assumed you were dead. 

It’s not like anyone cared about you. Scott, Ororo, and Jean had been the real heroes. But it didn’t matter because they were still mutants at the end of the day. It didn’t matter how many people they saved. How many lives they positively changed, no one would ever see past the fact that they were mutants. 

Being one of the newer members of the recently disbanded X-Men gave you enough anonymity to get through daily life without being recognized. It did not, however, protect you from being sucked into the shit fest that is the multiverse. 

You’re not sure what it is about you that just attracts bad luck. You don’t know if it’s some hidden power that’s a part of your evolution. You’re just apparently perpetually fucked. The TVA had determined that you were interfering with the proper flow of your timeline or some bullshit. 

Now you’re here. Stuck in the void with nothing but decay and drunk former superheroes. If you have to watch one more Captain America ‘rally the troops’ you’re gonna kill him yourself. You’ve considered switching teams and joining Cassandra Nova at times. If only so you don’t have to deal with Johnny Storm and the rest of the dipshits. 

You get along with Laura, at least. She likes to tell you about her Logan and you like to dodge her questions about yours. She doesn’t need to know that not every version of Wolverine has a golden heart and story worthy of tears. Yours was a fuck up, plain and simple, but you never thought the incident was his fault. 

As much as others tried to push the blame on him. The people who raided the mansion were determined. There was no other way that day was going to end up. You’d just have one less X-Man. But people always love a martyr more than a victim. 

After a couple of years, you get used to the monotony. Your days are only occasionally broken up by dodging Cassandra’s henchmen and trying not to get sucked up into the soul destroyer. Other than that, you spend your nights getting drunk with Gambit and pretending you know whatever the fuck he’s talking about. 

“Laura! I managed to find some chocolate!” You run into the hideout looking for the girl. It’s rare to find good food that isn’t already a month past its expiration date. You weren’t planning on sharing the candy with her but you figured she’d smell it on you and it’s not worth the fight. 

Instead, you stop short as the familiar blue and yellow uniform you’d always try to force on him comes into view. He’s stealing Gambit’s liquor and you know that’s not going to go over well. What you don’t know is why you are so sure that this is your Wolverine. 

You’ve never had a Wolverine in the void. Not once. This could be any one of the hundreds of thousands of variants. But you see that look in his eye. That familiar watery gaze shows just how much he hurts, even if he doesn’t want to admit it. 

“Logan?” You breathe his name out in disbelief. Bypassing the Deadpool standing nearby. You’ve dealt with enough of those in your time down here. He takes a step back, fixing you with a distrusting look. 

He keeps the bottle of alcohol clutched close to his chest like he thinks you’re going to take it. You track the movement and you scoff. “Right,” you shake your head and stop short. “Of course, the only thing you care about is still getting fucking drunk.”

He glares at you, taking a step forward like he thinks it might actually intimidate you. “Do I know you, bub?” He reaches forward, probably to jab his finger in your chest. You drop your gaze to his outstretched hand and narrow your eyes. 

The material of his suit fluctuates, pulling back and rippling over his arms like liquid and not spandex. He doesn’t notice the manipulation of matter until it's his skin you target. It melts off his adamantium bones and he stares down in horror. 

You know he's scared because he’s watching his body dissolve but he’s not feeling any pain. You could make it hurt, but that’s not what you want. You just want to see if he’ll remember you now. If there’s anything half-decent left in that alcohol-rotted brain of his.

“Flux,” he grits your X-Man name out through his teeth like it hurts him to say it. 

You nod and his skin and suit go back to normal, like you’d never tampered with it in the first place. “You do remember me, then?”

“Thought you fucking died with the rest of them.” Your face drops before you feel an astonished smile on your face. 

“You know, it’s a comfort to know nothing about my world has changed. You’re still the same spineless dick that left us all to die.” You shake your head and storm out of the hideout. You don’t know how long they’re planning on staying but you pray they leave soon. If you have to deal with him longer than a week, you’ll just kill him. 

You step outside just as Laura’s coming back from the bonfire. She greets you with a stiff smile and you wonder what’s got in her in a mood. It only takes a glance over her shoulder to find the reason.

Logan is sulking by the fire, nursing yet another bottle of whiskey. He’s drinking it like water and even with his healing, his liver should have turned to mush by now. “I can see why you didn’t tell me about him,” she mutters as she passes by you. 

You know she tried to be quiet but you can see the way Logan’s head tilts slightly towards you. He’s heard her and you know it has to sting just a little.

You glance down at the leaves under your feet, eyes glazing over as you feel the guilt sink into your stomach. You shouldn’t feel bad, you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t hurt him, technically, just reminded him who you were. But you still feel bad for what you said. 

You’ve never blamed Logan for what happened. And if you did, you would be a hypocrite. Because you survived too, and you left them all behind. You ran like a coward. You could never blame him when you failed to save them just the same. 

You take in a deep breath and steel yourself. You’ll just apologize, walk over there, and explain to him you didn’t mean what you said. You know he’ll be a dick about it. Claiming he doesn’t want your apology. You’ll just leave him alone after. 

You’re about to step forward when he barks out a gruff command, “Don’t fucking stare at me like that. I don’t want your company.” He turns back to the fire and takes another swig from his bottle. 

You roll your eyes and walk towards him. “You can be as miserable and self-pitying as you want, just let me say one thing.”

His head whips towards you so quickly you’re surprised you don’t hear it snap. “I’m not fucking pitying myself,” he grits out. You quirk your brows in amusement, glancing towards the bottle in his hand and the clear way he’s sulking. He turns his attention back towards the fire, intent on ignoring you again. 

“I don’t blame you for what happened,” you tell him. You ignore the warning look he shoots you, taking a seat beside him even if he doesn’t want you to. “I-” you choke on the words, struggling to admit to yourself what you’ve never wanted to. 

“Don’t.” You know it’s meant to be a warning. But when you look at him and see how completely broken he is, it sounds more like a pathetic plead. 

But you need to say this. As selfish as it is, you need to say this to someone., Need to unload this guilt you’ve carried for so long. “I was there, Logan. I could have saved them and I didn’t. I fucking ran.”

“Kid, don’t do this-”

“Jean was still moving,” you blurt out. You feel the way your heart speeds up at the admission. Your fingers shake and the air around you stills. 

His face drops and he slowly turns towards you. You’re afraid to look at him. You feel like a bunny staring down the snout of a wolf, there’s no escaping this. You’ve created this trap for yourself. 

“What?” He demands. His voice has lost that tremor of vulnerability. Instead, he sounds like he did when he first found out what had happened to you all. That same deadly level of calm that makes you want to bolt again. 

“She,” you stare into the fire until your eyes burn. You don’t know if it’s from the light or the smoke but the pain focuses you. “She was shaking on the floor. There was blood everywhere and she could barely breathe. They had gassed us with something. None of us could use our powers, it’s the only reason they got a one-up on us.”

You can feel yourself slipping back into that moment. You feel the warmth of the blood on your skin. It seeps into your suit and makes the material cling to you. Your gut is split open and the only thing holding your intestines in is your hands. 

Jean is in front of you. Her hands are twitching by her sides. There’s blood pouring out of her lips, dribbling down her tongue and cheeks. Every breath is a rattle so deep you feel it in your bones. 

Each inhale sounds like someone dragging glass through the membrane of her lungs. Her chest rises and sinks shallowly as she gasps for air. She’s practically convulsing, eyes twitching every which way.

The gas has faded from the halls. The people have left, satisfied with the carnage. You’re alone, surrounded only by the blood and bodies of your friends. None of the others are moving. Some of them are so mangled you can’t even tell who they are anymore. 

Jean’s eyes lock onto yours. The only anchor she has. And you can see it, the frantic, wounded animal gaze on her face. She knows she’s dying. She knows there’s nothing she can do about it. 

You can only stand by and watch as your friend dies. You could be her comfort. You could be the last face she sees before she dies, distracting her from the sight of her dead fiancee behind her. 

But what do you do?

You hold your guts in your stomach and you run. You can’t look at her. You can’t look at any of them. You can hear her croaking behind you. And even when you’re out of the mansion, when you’re in a hospital somewhere getting repaired and Logan’s on a rampage, you still hear her. 

You feel something heavy on your arm and it’s like you're being forcibly dragged out of a trance. Logan’s looking at you with something you’ve never seen before. But it’s something you’ve always desperately craved. 

It’s like he’s seeing you, really seeing you. For the first time in a long time, you feel that ache of guilt ease away ever so slightly. It doesn’t disappear, but you’re sharing the burden with someone else and it’s a relief you’ve desperately craved. 

“You’re not a bad person for leaving, kid.” He swallows roughly and you place your hand over his. He doesn’t look completely comfortable with the touch, slightly flinching away from it, but he doesn’t move. “If you hadn’t, you would be dead.”

You squeeze his hand, forcing him to meet your gaze. “I never blamed you for what happened.” emotion is so thick on your tongue and in your throat that the words come out a whisper. “Their deaths weren’t your fault, and what happened after wasn’t.”

He clenches his eyes shut and jerks his hand out of your grip. You sigh, knowing you’ve lost him. “I slaughtered them.”

You scoff, “They slaughtered us!” You nearly shout, anger bubbling hot in your gut. When you heard about him killing those who had hunted down your friends, you’d celebrated. And when you heard the way the public was crucifying him, you realized that no matter what you did they would never love you. 

You would always be nothing more than a mutant to them. 

“And the people who didn’t hurt them? The innocents I killed?” 

You don’t have anything to say to that. You just stand up, placing a hand on his shoulder as you pass by him. “I never blamed you, Logan.”

You don’t see Logan again after that. At least, not while you’re in the void. What was left of your little resistance was sucked up into the purple cloud of death. Only you and Laura are left with the carnage. 

Logan and Wade have disappeared to who knows where. It stings, to be on your own again. Sure, you have Laura, but she’ll never understand the pain of what happened to your universe. 

As much as it hurt, at least with Logan, you had someone to share the pain with. You could share your burden with him. You feel lonely and cold. Like there’s a part of you missing. You finally figure out what that ache is when the TVA comes to collect you and you see him again. 

He’s standing behind Wade as he enthusiastically tells you and Larua all about his world. But you can’t take your eyes off Logan, or the tentative smile on his face. Whatever had happened during that fight with Cassandra Nova had changed him, for the better. 

You smile back at him and it feels like taking a breath of fresh air after years. 

Apparently, whoever this world’s Flux had been, she was fucking insanely rich. And dead, which sucked for her but was great for you and Logan. 

It’s not hard for you to fake some government identities and explain that you’d been mistakenly marked as dead. It’s apparently pretty common in this universe. Superheroes are blipped out of existence all the time. You couldn’t get all of her assets as some had been liquidated, but you did get her giant ass house. 

You let Logan and Laura stay with you until they decide where they want to go. It’s better than living with Wade and his coke-fiend roommate. Laura finds her groove pretty quickly, it is her world after all. But you and Logan struggle to figure out what to do with yourselves. 

Neither of you has an interest in being X-Men again, and it seems like they’re not incredibly present in this world either. You also hadn’t been the best of friends, even before everything went wrong, back home. 

You’re not strangers, you’re not friends, you’re that awkward place in between. Each day is another opportunity to get to know each other. The progress might be slow, but you know that you’re getting closer to something real. 

It’s why you don’t feel any qualms about running into his room when you hear him shouting. You burst into his room and the door slamming against the wall isn’t even enough to wake him up. 

He’s writhing around in the bed, sheets twisted around his waist while sweat beads down his forehead. The noises he’s making remind you of a wounded animal. There’s something heartbreaking about this. 

He doesn’t get peace even when he’s sleeping. It makes you hurt for him. You want to smooth over the aches and pains he carries and burden yourself with them. 

The thought snaps you out of your reverie and you’re shocked by the revelation. You’d been growing closer to him, but you hadn’t thought you were growing this close. You feel so strongly for him, but you’re not ready to put a name on what it is that you feel for him. You just know that right now you want to make him feel better. 

You approach the bed cautiously, taking a seat beside him. The bed ripples and jolts underneath you as he tosses and turns. You place a gentle hand on his arm and shake, “Logan,” you whisper. You don’t want to startle him too bad. 

But he’s not responding to anything. It doesn’t matter how much you shake him or call out his name. Finally, you can’t handle it anymore. You get on your knees, sitting over him and bringing your palm down across his face as hard as you can. 

In a second he’s shooting up. You don’t even notice his hand until you see the way his vision clears. The visceral panic fades and something is aching in your gut. “Oh god, no no no,” he says the word so many times it stops sounding real. 

You look down and see the blood dribbling down his palm, the claws buried in your stomach. It’s almost funny, how perfectly aligned they are with the scar that already lived there. The reminder of your friend’s death being erased and reformed by Logan’s hand. 

He pulls his wrist back and you quickly snatch it up. “Don’t!” You shout, jaw clenching against the pain. “Don’t pull them out, I’ll just bleed out.”

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” You know he’s worried, that’s why he snaps at you. But it doesn’t help the way you feel yourself fighting back tears.

He sees them drip down your cheeks and his face drops. His other hand, the one not in you, comes up and cradles your cheek. “What do I do?” He whispers, and he sounds more desperate than you do. 

You know he doesn’t want another death on his hands. But there’s something beyond that. He doesn’t want to be the reason you stop breathing. There’s a startling clarity when you’re slowly dying. 

He cares about you. Just as deeply as you do for him. You can’t make him go through this pain again. Can’t let him suffer alone, not when he’s made so much progress. “Slowly,” you tell him, guiding his claws out inch by inch. 

It’s hard not to black out. You’d barely felt it when he’d gotten you the first time. You think it’s because of how fast and sudden it was. But this, having them oh so slowly slicing through your insides is the worst form of torture. 

But you don’t heal like him. You have to close your eyes, focus on the pain, and forcibly reknit your skin back together. It’s a clever manipulation of your powers, but it’s a slow one. You could never take serious damage on the field because you wouldn’t be fast enough to repair yourself. 

This is easy to repair. But that doesn’t make it hurt less. It feels like an hour before he can safely draw them the rest of the way out. The second he does, you’re sinking into his arms with a pained sob. 

He clutches you so tightly to his chest you worry your back might snap. He keeps muttering apologies into your hair, hands desperately grasping at every inch of you he can hold. You’re too tired to say anything. 

You realized you should have. You should have told him you don’t blame him. You were the one who snuck into his room. You should have been smarter. But it doesn’t matter how many times you tell Logan not to blame himself, he always will. And you were too tired to try anyway. 

You only realize what’s happening two days after the incident. You figured he might need some space to process what happened. And honestly, you did too. It was awful and incredibly draining. You’ve felt fatigued ever since. 

But when you try and approach him and he just brushes past you like you weren’t even there, you know something is wrong. You watch his retreating back with a disturbed glare. You connect the dots quickly, already knowing what he’s doing. 

He doesn’t want to be responsible for hurting another person he loves. He can’t handle a loss like that again, even if it’s not by his hands. He wants to make sure you don’t want him, that you don’t care for him. Like that might ease the pain and guilt. 

But it wouldn’t. It would just make him feel worse. It would make you feel worse. 

You don’t waste a second, following him up the stairs and barging into his room before he can slam the door shut. It bounces off the wall and he lets out a deeply irritated sigh. He doesn’t turn to look at you, just walks over to his nightstand and rummages around through the doors.

You know he’s not looking for anything. He’s just trying to ignore you long enough for you to give up. It’s not going to happen, he should know better. 

You take a step further into the room and the smell of chemicals slams into you. Your nose wrinkles in disgust. It smells like he pumped Lysol into the vents. Your eyes dart to the bed and you sigh. 

Your blood, you’d completely forgotten. He must have been cleaning it up the morning after. You can’t blame him for wanting to get rid of the remainder. But this seems excessive. 

“Strong nose,” he mutters. You hadn’t realized you’d spoken aloud and you glanced over at him. “I can still smell it, even after cleaning.” He takes a seat on the bed and you hate the way his shoulders are slumped. 

He’d seemed so much more comfortable with himself lately. It’s like one accident has undone all his progress. “Logan,” you start, taking a step towards him. He holds his hand up, still not looking at you. 

It’s driving you insane. You wish he would just meet your eyes. You feel like you could change his mind if he would just see you. Maybe that’s why he won’t. He won’t let himself be happy. 

“Look, that night just made me realize what a huge fucking mistake this was.” He gets up and slides something out from under the bed. It takes a moment for you to register what it is. A duffel bag, packed with all his essentials and what little clothes he owns. 

He’s going to leave.

You act without thinking. Pure panic making your powers surge out. Logan grunts and the bag falls out of his hand. “Quit it,” he snipes, bending over to pick it up. But he can’t because it’s so heavy it’s making the wooden floor splinter and crack under its weight. 

“You don’t get to just leave when things get hard, Logan.”

He stands up, hands propped on his sides. There’s a challenge in his eyes that makes you nervous. “Fuck this,” he scoffs and brushes past you. 

It’s beyond manipulative to use your powers against him. But sometimes, someone is such a fucking idiot, they need a little outside help. You slam the door closed and the handle disappears, locking you both in his room. 

He turns towards you with a fierce glare on his face. “Open the goddamn door before I break it down.”

“You can try,” you taunt, a nasty tone to your voice. You’re sick of this. You’re sick of running from what you want. You’ve been miserable and alone for years. You want to be happy. For the first time in forever, you want something. 

And you want Logan to be happy with you. You can’t force him to feel the way you do. But you can stop him from actively preventing this. “Stop acting like a goddamn child and just talk to me!” You shout at him. 

There’s a disbelieving look on your face. You don’t understand why he won’t let this happen. Why does he have to fight so hard against any semblance of happiness in his life?

“I’m going to hurt you. That is all I do. I hurt the people I love and I cannot hurt you too.” Your eyes widen in shock at his outburst. Beyond anger, there was so much fear in his voice it was almost enough to make you miss what he’d said. 

“You love me?” You can see the realization dawn on him. The fact that he let slip why he’s so hesitant to be around you. You know he wants to leave, his eyes are darting around the room for an escape route, but you’ve blocked them all. You can’t let this go, not now. 

“Logan,” you snap, demanding an answer from him. 

“Fuck you,” he mutters, something vicious on his face. 

He’s going to hurt you. He’s going to lash out and say something cruel so that this doesn’t happen. You know him because you’ve been him. He will take every possible route to get out of this if it means he doesn’t have to face his feelings. 

You roll your eyes and take a step forward. You jerk him towards you and throw yourself on him before he can say something stupid. The kiss is brief, just enough to snap him out of this ridiculous headspace he’s in. 

When you pull back he looks dazed, but he’s relaxed in your hold, sinking towards you. You grin up at him, “I love you too, dumbass.” You lean up to kiss him again but you dart back at the last second, a mean glare on your face. “Pull some shit like this again and I’m going to melt your dick off.” 

You kiss him before he can respond, but you feel the smile against your lips. You can taste the defeat on his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and tugs you into his chest. He’s not going to push you away and you’re not going to let him. 

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl @allllium  ♡ 

[lostalioth]

𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐝 𝐩𝐫𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞

→ premise: forgetting your money for your dealer for the first time in a year sounds like a stroke of bad luck. only for you it seems quite the opposite.

→ pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, high sex (just eddies high), bribery/sex as payment? (I did intend to write it as actual bribery than idk what happened), nicknames [favorite customer, dirty girl, baby], drugs [mention, use, buying], unprotected sex, sex outside/in the woods

→ a/n: kinktober

Now technically you didn't actually need more weed, you had bought enough last time to last you the week. But god did you really badly wanna see your dealer. Eddie munson, everyone else called him a freak because of a game club he had and the way he dressed. But to you he was just so pretty you couldn’t help it, you wanted to see him again, and you didnt wanna wait til next week. In your haste and dazed state daydreaming about your pretty dealer while getting ready, you space out and forget the most important thing. Your stupid money. It was a rookie mistake that you hadn't made sense the very first time you bought from Eddie. You were so nervous that remembering to bring your money left your head. He was so sweet about it, a small smirk on his face as he handed it to you anyway. “It’s on the house, first time customer and all, hands down the prettiest too” he winked playfully at you and you think you've been smitten with him ever since.

You had found out later on, Eddie never gave anybody weed ‘on the house’ first time buying or not. You were still so lost in your head, excited to see him again that as you sat down at the meeting spot you had yet to realize you left your wallet on your dresser.

“There's my favorite customer” he beamed softly at you “I know I call you that but two deals in one week? That's a record for you” he chuckled lightly, his voice breaking you from your thoughts as he emerged from the woods. You smile coyly at him in embarrassment. Your thighs clench together slightly at the sight of him, he had ditched his usual hellfire t-shirt for a black hoodie, keeping his regular black jeans. His eyes lidded with a slight red hue around them, making you realize you probably interrupted him in the middle of his session. As he sits down at the rundown picnic table he sets his regular lunchbox on the table. The idea of him always keeping his drugs in an old metal lunch box was funny to you, and oddly adorable. But you’d probably find anything he did cute, it was getting harder and harder to hide the massive crush you had on him. The flirty banter back and forth between the two of you only intensifies it tenfold.

“Yeah I ran out a little faster than I thought I would” you cringe a bit at how easily the white lie slipped through your teeth. It felt oddly wrong lying to Eddie. He tilts his head in a way that makes you think he doesn't believe you. Before you can jump to your defense he’s opening the metal box and pulling out the lunch baggie of your regular order from him. You didn't notice the missing wallet until it came time to look for it after he had handed over the little baggie. You barely took a glance at it, tucking it in a pocket of the bag you brought that laid on the ground leaning on the leg of the table.

“Oh fuck…” you cruse under your breathe and start double checking all your pockets though you didnt have many with the outfit you had on. You even check the few the bag had. No wallet to be found.

”Left the money at home huh?” He questioned, cocking an eyebrow at your frantic searching of your clothes. In defeat after remembering it was last sitting on top of your dresser you sigh. “Yeah.. fuck im sorry Ed’s” you pout slightly, you were always good about remembering it. You’d even slip him cute, sometimes flirty little notes with the money for him to find when he’d get home. Back to being lost in your head you don't hear him getting up or coming around to sit next to you on your side of the table.

“You know…” his voice startled you slightly, both the new unfamiliar tone to it as well as its proximity. He was leaning in closer, your body slowly on its own turning in his direction aching to be even closer. ”You could pay me in another way..” his hand was now drifting to rub over and up your thigh, his eyes flickering down to your lips.

You were fine just giving the baggie back you had enough left from the last deal or quickly running home for the money. But understanding quickly what he’s implying, you decided that his payment plan was a more enjoyable idea. You’ve been dying to kiss him, to get even just a little further with him than all the teasing flirty looks and words. Realizing you haven't stopped him, he finally leans in fully, his free hand coming up to grab your chin pulling your mouth against his. The kiss sparking a fire in the pit of your stomach as his lips molded with yours. With a small mumble, the words lost in your lips Eddie pulls you even closer, hands falling to your hips to pull you off the wooden seat and onto his lap.

In the heat of the moment your hips seem to have a mind of their own, absentmindedly rocking against Eddies. He pulls away slowly, leaving you with parted lips and lidded eyes panting softly. You could feel him under you growing harder by the passing second, he wanted you just as badly. Eddie felt like his skin was on fire everywhere your bodies were touching, his hazy and cloudy head from his high causing his senses to be heightened. Your own head still full of your fantasies and daydreams from earlier that you were desperate for something more. Running your hands down his chest they land on his belt and waist band of his jeans.

“Need more Ed’s…” you whine, your pupils nearly just as dilated and blown as his, though for different reasons.

“Oh fuck it” he grunts and starts frantically undoing his belt buckle and the button to his jeans. Helping him along you lift your body off him, hovering still as you help him pull his pants halfway down his thighs.

You were smart enough to wear a skirt though this was the last thing you expected to happen. You just knew Eddie loved peaking at your ass as you walked away, so you always wore them when it was warm enough to meet up with him.

Pulling the bottom of his hoodie up a bit and pushing down his boxers after his jeans, he finally frees his cock and god it was just as pretty as you imagined. A happy trail leading down to it, the tip pink and leaking, a patch of black hair nestled at the base. Thoughts of moments like this fueled more than a few nights with your hands between your thighs. His hands return to your body, hiking your skirt up your hips he gawks at your soaked panties. “Look at my favorite customer being such a dirty girl, mighta thought you planned this all out if I didn't know any better” he groans, running his thumb through your slick folds, over your underwear. “Wore a tiny little skirt and the prettiest panties for me, and look at em’ all soaked and ruined already” he chuckled and leaned in closer, his forehead pressed to yours, eyes fixed on yours. “I've barely touched you baby” he coos and rubs small circles on your clit through the fabric.

“Need you Eddie, please~” you huff out and gasp in pleasure at the little amount of attention he was giving your throbbing bundle of nerves. His hands on your body were giving you a better high than any drugs you had ever bought off him before, and were far more addictive. “Tell me dirty girl, what exactly does my favorite customer need huh? I always aim to please” his voice has a sweet yet taunting edge to it, his thumb not stopping its teasing circles. His head shifts and his lips are ghosting over your own now. “Especially you…” he whispers as though it was a secret and there were other people around, though you both knew there wasn't anybody for miles in every direction.

“I need you inside me Ed’s, need ya’ to fuck me so bad please” you whine and plead against his mouth as you try leaning forward to feel his kiss again. You let out a sharp gasp before you even make it to press your lips to his again. While you were begging, Eddie had pulled your panties to the side and with a sharp thrust he pushed all the way in to the hilt.

“Holy fuck” he hissed through his teeth as your welcoming heat consumed his cock, your walls already squeezing around him. He sets his hands back up on your hips, trying to hold you still to give himself a second to calm down. It was pathetic but he knew he wasn’t gonna last that long, especially not with how long he's wanted this coupled with all his nerves on high alert from the weed in his system that wasn't wearing off any time soon. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you finally lean all the way forward and kiss him frantically and deeply. Hips rocking against his, the thick vein running along the side of his shaft dragging along your walls as your hips rise and drop. Teeth clashing together as you make out, tongues sliding around and fighting for dominance. Your one hand travels up threading your fingers through his mess of hair.

“Just like that baby” he groans in the kiss, fingers digging into your hips as he does his best to hold out. You already weren't all that far behind him, his cock throbbing and pulsing inside you tightening that knot in the pit of your stomach faster and faster.

Eddie pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath, his eyes squeezed shut as his head falls back when your hand comes down and nails scratch over his exposed lower stomach.

“Fuck why havent we been doin’ this every time you buy from me huh?, feel s’good” he grunts and thrusts his hips up to meet yours as you bounce down. Your ass bouncing off his thighs making an obscene and filthy slapping noise that drowns out the melodic sounds of nature. “Screw money baby, just want this pussy as payment instead. Want it all the time god~” he rambled off as you continued riding him, your hips moving fast and frenziedly chasing your high.

“Gonna- fuck im gonna cum Ed’s, baby shit” you let out a wanton moan when he starts abusing your clit with his thumb, rubbing circles like before though this time with no barrier. “Cum baby, cum on this dick dirty girl come on” he eggs you on as he speeds up his thumb making your legs shake slightly and the bouncing and rocking of your hips falter.

With a moan loud enough you swore you scared birds away, the knot in your stomach snaps and your climax crashes over you. Your cunt squeezes Eddie's cock and as he watches your body shake as you cum, his own climax hits him like a truck. Thick ropes of cum spilling deep inside you.

After a few moments pass, letting the two of you catch your breaths and your high’s wash over you. Eddie speaks up. “You know, I was only intending the different payment to be a kiss” he chuckles softly, his cheeks flushed. Your eyes snap up to his, your mouth agape. “I- well” you try speaking but he cuts you off with a belly laugh. “Baby it's all good, this was much better payment. Pay me like this from now on okay?” He lowered his voice again, the softness making your body turn to mush in his arms that he wraps around you.

“And uh hey could you pull the baggie i gave you out again, there's something you missed about it” he sounded nervous all of a sudden. You give him a questioning look before leaning over a bit and pulling it out of your bag that laid on the ground.

As you pulled it out you noticed writing that you hadn't before on it. The bag read ‘wanna go out on a date with me?” In Eddie's chicken scratch version of a handwriting.

A big smile spreads on your face and you look back up at him. “Well?” He questions, a nervous edge to his voice still, did he really think you'd say no? “Eddie, what do you think the answer is” you motion down with your eyes to where your bodies are still connected, his limp cock still buried inside you twitches a bit.

“So it's a yes?” He smiles softly and leans up ready to kiss you once again, he never wants to stop now that he gets to. You give him a nod and chuckle softly.

→ a/n: yes this is the cliché ‘you can pay me another way’ typa fic lol. i just really liked the idea, the name is also a play on quid pro quo if you didnt get that.

[vxnuslogy]

— will they, won’t they.

pairing: hoshina soshiro x gn!reader

premise: hoshina soshiro has been hopelessly in love with you for years now. and for the first time, you finally hear him say the words "i love you."

— warnings: down bad + jealous hoshina, modern setting, reader is a kyudo player.

— author's note: little miss says she's going on a break then proceeds to write about hoshina soshiro for all the dying fans (its me, i'm the dying fans.) art credits to @.BByo_chick on twitter.| ~700 words.

“how long are ya gonna keep me here?”

“no one is forcing you to.”

hoshina only clicks his tongue and stares at the dojo walls. his finger impatiently tapping at his chin as he hits crossed leg on the floors. it’s half past 5 in the afternoon now and you have no intentions of going home anytime soon.

“i’m gettin’ bored here,” he drawls, hands stretching over his head as he watches you shoot another arrow with pin-point accuracy that makes his smirk twitch uncomfortably. you’ve gotten too good at kyudo, and it shows.

“then go home,” you reply as you pull the bow back and aim for your next shot. “you don’t have to keep waiting for me to finish.”

but that was the thing: hoshina wanted to wait for you and he always will.

he wants everyone to know that you had him and he’s all you’ll ever need. there was no need for that guy who caught your fall a few days ago—not when he’s been catching you for the past 3 years. he was your guide in the train station every morning, so why do you keep trying to go to the station earlier and ask your junior for directions? hoshina soshiro was always by your side, so why couldn’t you see that?

“i’ll wait,” he murmurs into his hand, eyes looking at anything but at you. “got nothin’ to do at home anyways.”

it was a weak excuse, but it always does the trick. you always relent and let him stay but not without throwing a look over your shoulder that screams “you’re acting strange.” because he was. hoshina, against his will, feels his lips being tugged into a frown whenever you interact with anyone that isn’t him.

that sounds very bad–it is bad in a sense–but hoshina would never dream of taking away your freedom. so he just watches, painfully by the sidelines, with a scoff on his face as another student from a rival school stammers to ask for your number. it was irritating, having to watch everyone throw themselves at you when you’re clearly uninterested. 

“what the hell will happen if i’m not by yer side, captain.” hoshina jests as you pack up your stuff and lock the dojo.

“is this about earlier?” you ask with an amused lilt to your voice. “when the new student asked for my number?”

hoshina hated how you always aimed for the heart.

“i have no idea what yer talkin’ about,” he weakly tries to change the topic. hoshina racks his brain to think of something—anything—to help change the conversation, but his mind keeps circling back to you. how you almost looked serious when some guy–who was leagues below you by the way–had the gall to ask you out for a date.

“never took you for the jealous type.” you tease.

“it’s because ‘m not.” he said through gritted teeth, hands balling into small fists against his school bag. “‘m lookin’ out for ya, alright? that guy was a creep. i’m keepin’ yer ass safe from weirdos.”

you looked unconvinced but didn’t comment on his unusual aggressiveness. hoshina let out a frustrated sigh, a hand coming to ruffle your hair and pull just a tiny bit closer that would make everyone question your relationship. this was driving him crazy but he couldn’t do anything about it.

“‘m not jealous. get that over yer pretty little head.”

and until you both got on the train and went your separate ways to go home, hoshina soshiro never once let your hand drop to your side. he kept you impossibly close to his side and whispered sweet good lucks into your ear. body so comfortably lax in your presence he was slouching on the train seat so he could bury his nose in your hair. 

hoshina soshiro was so unfathomably in love with you. 

how could he not love you when you use your own heartbeat to calm his erratic one during every competition? when every hug has his mind spinning with gold and you. every victory is dedicated to your name, and no trophy or medal could ever compare to the feeling of running into your arms and drowning in your praise.

“i love you.” he mutters as you sleep peacefully on his shoulder on your way home. how many years has he been saying it before he lost count? it’s truly just a matter of when you’ll wake up and finally realize it yourself.

he feels the blood rush to his brain as he throws himself on his bed, unable to wipe the image of you smiling as if you had heard him.

© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.

[3amfanfiction]

You wrote this about Simon: “At this lieutenant, already chewed up and spit out by the world. More scars than skin at this point. You wonder how many people only see the scars and not the shivering body underneath it, waiting for a soft touch.”

I’d LOVE to read more of this - i wanna be the one to offer him the soft touch he wants so badly, maaaan! He’s just so big n’ strong but i want to let him curl up against me while i pet him until he stops shivering

This came through at the perfect time. I had the desire to write but I was picking at all my wips half heartedly bc none of the them were what I wanted.

But this? This I wanted.

So thank you again and please enjoy 1.5k words of acclimatizing Simon to soft touches.

<33

Ask referencing this post.

~~~~

He scared you, the first time you saw him.

Not because of how big he was (tall, thick, muscular) or the look in his eyes (cold, dismissive, too watchful), not even because of the scars themselves (numerous, expansive, tragic).

It was because you knew any interaction would come across as a threat. He had that look in his eyes that said he'd seen the worst of what the world had to offer and he persisted through luck and spite equally. Now he was sat in front of you, too disciplined to let his skin shiver but hating being seen. Hating that you were looking.

When you met him it was through a friend of a friend sort of thing. One of your friends was seeing a Scottish boy and invited you out for drinks with them. You had no reason to say no so you found yourself sitting at a high-top doing your best not to bother the man sitting quietly to your right.

His gruff, Simon, during introductions was the only thing he had said in the last hour, content to sit quietly and watch. Almost outside of the group even though he was sitting at the same table. You made sure to include him when you were speaking to the group, your eyes darting to each person as you spoke, not leaving anyone out. But you made sure to never direct a hard question at him that required an answer. It was all, I bet you never have a problem seeing over the crowd. or I'll grab everyone a drink while I'm up or Sorry, I'll be out of your space in a moment, my jacket was getting a little warm.

He would look at you. Every time you spoke to him he wouldn't shy away from eye contact but that was where his involvement ended. Never a head nod or shake, never a verbal answer.

By the end of the night you were positive he didn't like you. He didn't dis-like you but he didn't like you, you were pretty sure. That was okay though. You'd done your best not to infringe on his space, not wanting to step on his toes. You thought you had done a good job all around and put it out of your mind, the interaction over and done with and no longer needing to be reviewed.

What you never realized was Simon's shoulders lowered a whole inch throughout the course of the night.

\\\

You called your friend out on the number of times she invited you to hang out with Johnny and Simon, flat out asking if she and Johnny were trying to set you and Simon up through subtle double-dating.

"No!" She leaned forward grabbing your hand, her eyes looking earnestly into yours, "I promise it's not like that. Johnny told me he's pretty much all Simon has. Well, their team is. So they're always together when they're home. I don't want Simon to feel like a third wheel or left out or anything."

And you believed her. This was one of her strong suits, always looking out for others. That's probably why you two got along so well, a pair of givers, the both of you. And she had a point. The idea of Simon sitting awkwardly with the other two as his only companions made something twist in your stomach. You didn't want that for him.

So you kept seeing Simon and you kept doing your best to give him space but include him at the same time. You were shocked the first day he spoke to you but the fact that it was a bad joke made a sort of perfect sense.

"What's the best way to carve wood?"

You looked over at him in shock that this was what he chose to break the ice with. At the same time you were delighted and you couldn't help but feel giddy at the prospect of Simon telling you a joke. A bad one by the sound of it.

"How?"

"Whittle by whittle."

"That was absolutely terrible."

He smiled to himself if his eye crinkles had anything to say about it. That giddy feeling bubbling up inside you was getting unsettlingly big right about now. You looked at the ground and bit your lip to keep from a cheesy grin of your own breaking out.

Before you knew it he had no problem speaking to you. While never particularly verbose, he would respond to comments directed towards him, offer his opinion if options were offered, and kept telling awful jokes.

You were hopelessly charmed.

You broke your own rules and reached for him first.

You were sat next to him on a bench, the sun setting and the evening air cooling further. He had told you another one of his god-awful jokes when you unthinkingly swatted out with your hand, brushing his arm. His muscles jumped and his arm tensed right before you made contact as if bracing for a hit. An involuntary reaction to someone reaching for him. It was a horrifying realization.

You sobered quickly and your chuckle died off awkwardly. You turned to face forward, looking out at the street, watching for any sign of your friend or Johnny who had stepped into the store for a quick moment leaving you and Simon to find a bench while you waited. You hoped that if you didn't draw attention to it then your faux pas would pass unmentioned.

You let out a relieved sigh when Simon continued with another comment, not taking your overstepping to heart. By the time the other two had rejoined you the whole situation was forgotten, water under the bridge. You didn't think of it again until it was the end of the night with everyone about to go their separate ways.

When you said goodbye to Simon he said it back, reaching out to brush his hand down your arm in return in almost the exact same spot as where you'd touched him earlier.

Your heart skipped a beat before picking up a double pace. You couldn't help but beam at him, a wide grin splitting your face even as he grunted and turned away, likely embarrassed by your show of emotion.

Today had been a good day after all.

You thought you had ruined it for a moment there, thankful when Simon seemed to brush past it. You hadn't expected him to reciprocate in the same manner though.

Maybe he really did like hanging out with you. You never doubted it for a second.

\\\

It took time–a slow steady build to where you ended up, curled up on the couch together with Simon laying on top of you. You both had your tops off to bask in a little skin-to-skin time.

You'd been together for a few months at this point and it was like night and day to compare him to the Simon you met all that time ago. This one couldn't keep his hands off you to save his life. It was a slow warm-up to get past his walls in a way that wasn't upsetting to either of you. Soft touches that slowly built, leading to hand holding, to hugging, to kissing, to this.

You dragged your fingers slowly up his back, fingertips catching on raised scar tissue before continuing on, ever moving. He hummed into the crook of your neck where he had buried his face when you switched from fingertips to nails, gently scratching the skin.

You loved spending time like this, feeling Simon melt into you, eager for every touch he could get. If you were sitting still and Simon was in the vicinity you could bet that he would be pressed against your side before too much time had passed. Eager for the soft caresses you always had for him.

He was starved for touch and you wanted to feed him.

So you offered, again and again in the beginning–most times with no luck, to let him touch you. On the couch watching TV? Your arms would open, inviting a hug when he walked by. At the table? Your head was tilting up for a kiss if he wanted one. Passing each other in the hallway? You'd raise your hand and hold it in front of you, letting him press his big barrel chest into your palm if he wanted.

It was a slow acclimatization that brought you to today and the taste was all the sweeter for the time you had poured into it.

You lifted a hand to drag it through the spiky hairs at the back of his head, enjoying his groan of contentment. It sounded like he was already halfway asleep and you knew you wouldn't be leaving this spot for a while.

Might as well settle in and get comfortable. You familiarized him to gentle touches, now he was insatiable for them. He would be consuming them from you greedily for as long as you offered.

[witchesverse]

girlfriend killer.

pairing: dark!agatha x fem!reader

summary/request: I don’t know if you are accepting request but if you are I have an idea for Agatha Harkness and R… AU where R has had horrible luck in love. Every partners R has dies. R always finds comfort in her friend and neighbor, Agatha. R has no idea Agatha is killing R’s partners so that no one will ever take R away from Agatha..

content: noncon, mention and small descriptive of murder, mention of stabbing, mention of drowning in bleach, heavy manipulation, HEAVY TOPICS, funerals, mention of missing people, cum eating, pussy eating, strap-on sex, small mommy kink, knife play, crying, cum-filled strap, tummy bulges, humiliation, kidnapping, cutting.

a/n: this is honestly the darkest fic i've ever written and i loved writing it. (shoutout to @beggingforyours for being my assistant in writing this)

masterlist

You sniffled and wiped at your nose as tears stained your cheeks. You held a small rose bouquet; they were her favourite flowers. You were surprised that you were able to hold your sobs back as they lowered your late girlfriend into the ground.

"Come here, dear."

Your neighbour, Agatha held her hand out for you. You buried your face in her neck and cried. She held you and rubbed circles on your back.

For the past few years, you have had horrible luck with love. All of your partners have passed away in tragic accidents or have gone missing. This was the fourth girlfriend that you have attended a funeral for, and you don't know how much more you can take.

Without Agatha, you don't know if you would still be here. She has nursed you back to health after each funeral. Your friends would tell you Agatha was creepy and weird, but Agatha was your rock.

"Shall we go back to my place?" Agatha whispered.

Whilst still sobbing, you nodded.

-

It had been two weeks since the funeral and you hadn't left Agatha's house once. You had no reason to with how good Agatha cared for you.

Occasionally, Agatha had to leave for work reasons which left you alone in her house for a few hours. Agatha had one rule at her house.

Do not enter her basement.

It was an easy rule to follow. Half the time you forget the basement existed. But waiting for her to arrive back home got boring, so curiosity struck.

The wooden steps creaked underneath your steps, making you cringe each time. You dragged your hand across the wall, silently triumphing once you found the light switch and turned it on.

The basement looked normal. A large desk was at one side of the room and was covered with books and papers, and red paint splattered on the floor.

You didn't know Agatha enjoyed art.

A frown settled across your face when you noticed the weapons around the room. There must have been at least 20 different weapons. You guessed she enjoyed collecting them.

You looked at the papers and books on her desk, recognising a few titles but a diary caught your eye. You know it's bad to look at someone's diary but you couldn't help it.

Entry 42: Murder #4 I killed Darcy Lewis with a Zombie knife. The blade perfectly pierced her skin and ripped it up as I pulled it out. I smile remembering her screams for help and her promises to leave Y/n alone. Once she was weak, I held her head under bleach-

You slammed the diary closed and grasped onto the table. You felt like you were going to puke. You covered your mouth with your hand and cried.

Agatha Harkness was a fucking murderer.

She had murdered Darcy, the girlfriend who you had just buried two weeks ago, and she had comforted you through it. Darcy's body was never found, but if you continued reading, you were positive you would know where it was.

Darcy promising to leave you alone made questions swirl in your head.

Why did she say that? Is Agatha targeting your lovers? Did Agatha kill your other girlfriends? Why you?

You had to tell the police. You grabbed Agatha's diary and searched for anything else that could be evidence.

Loud claps rang throughout the basement and you froze.

"It looks like we have a little rule breaker, isn't that right, hon?"

Agatha stood at the bottom of the staircase and looked at you with an amused smile. She balanced a small knife between her fingers.

You swallowed, trying to find your voice.

"Y-You fucking killed her." You shrieked.

Agatha shrugged.

"Did you kill the others?" You asked but shook your head after "No. No, don't tell me. Just get out of my way so I can tell the police and get your insane ass in jail."

Agatha's eyes narrowed, her amused expression disappearing. You shuffled backwards as she stalked closer.

"Oh no, baby." She tsked "That's not how you talk to mommy."

A wave of confidence washed over you and you ran. You didn't get far. Her hand reached out and grabbed onto your hair, yanking you into her. Her diary flew out of your hands and you pushed away from her.

Agatha was stronger than you and kept her hold. She forced you on your knees and held the tip of her knife underneath your chin to keep your head up. Her grasp on your hair was painful.

"Why?" You cried.

Agatha rolled her eyes, "Those bitches weren't good enough for you so I had to remove them."

"You don't get to decide what is good-"

Her knife nicked your cheek as she slapped you. The unexpected slap shocked you and you didn't know how to reply.

"But I do get to decide."

She roughly pulled you to your feet and shoved you into the table. You grunted as your front collided with wood. Agatha pinned you down with one hand and held her knife in the other.

"Don't move unless you want to be cut."

You couldn't control your tears and cries.

Agatha used her knife to cut a hole in your pants, revealing your panties to her. She placed her knife on the table. She pushed your panties to the side and groaned at the sight of your bare cunt.

You held back a sob as her fingers dragged through your slick. She moaned at the taste of you on her fingers. She lowered her face to your cunt and licked a stripe up it.

Her moans caused vibrations and you shivered against her.

She pulled away from you and you heard her taking her pants off. There was the click of something opening and closing, and then you felt the head of a cold, lubed strap pushing into you.

"Please, Agatha." You sniffled, "Don't do this."

Agatha grabbed a fistful of your hair and shoved your face into the table, "Shut up and take it."

Her strap easily pushed into you. You cried as the stretch burned and your walls clung to her. She slowly pumped into you, thankfully letting you adjust before her speed increased.

The basement was filled with your moans, your skin slapping together and the wet noises your cunt made.

Agatha pulled you up into her chest, her hand finding its way around your throat and fingers twisting and tugging at your nipples. You moaned loudly and your head fell onto her shoulder. Agatha kissed your neck before sucking and licking at it.

Her hands rested on your tummy, "You feel that? That's how deep my dick is."

You whimpered.

Agatha started to softly moan and grunt in your ear, and you knew you were both getting close. She dug her fingernails into you, carving crescent-moon marks into your skin.

Agatha moaned loudly and forced you back onto the table. You felt warm liquid squirt inside of you, which pushed you over the edge into your orgasm.

Your head went blank and you pressed yourself into Agatha's strap until you came down from your high. You couldn't deny that orgasm was one of the best orgasms you had ever had.

Agatha turned your body around and pulled her strap out. She wrapped her arms around your legs and licked at you, cleaning you up.

You softly cried at the realisation of everything.

Your sweet, perfect neighbour has been murdering your partners for years and she had just fucked you in the same room she killed them in.

What's going to happen to you?

[jeoncopi]

[2] EAGER DAYS | JJK

are you ready to witness what's like to have a very yearning, domestically soft, vulnerable, silly yet playful and hot military boyfriend?

welcome to military jungkook's episodes!

—this entire series are based during jungkook's current state. as I'll be writing with each irl update. so this series might last until jungkook's finally free (Imao).

IMPORTANT: each episode won't be necessarily correlated to one another but some episodes could have light references to previous actions, feelings or situations.

BE AWARE OF: 18+ CONTENT.

pair: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.1k

what's in here?: a little bit of inside of their relationship, memories and flashbacks (jungkook’s pov). cute and a little bit of tension if you really squint lol.

[more episodes]

EPISODE 2. “short hair..”

freshly cut.

trimming his hair little by little has been jungkook’s plan for a while now. something about not wanting to get shocked or insecure if he ever looked bad being bald. ‘it’s best to get used to it like this, right?’ checking himself out at the salon, ‘I don’t look too bad.’ he mutters to himself.

‘I wonder what does y/n think..’ crosses his mind next.

—.•*•.—

“ta-da~”

boy-ish smile. you’re met with a brand new jungkook as soon as you open the door. a soft gasp escapes your lips when you scan his new haircut and you can’t help but drag his body inside your apartment just to glance at him in better lightning.

“oh my god.”

jungkook’s tone is playful when he chuckles and playfully asks with a semi smirk on his lips. “what? what?” walking you backwards as both of his hands are placed on your shoulders.

your hands gently resting on his firm chest. “why do you look so good?”

jungkook’s eyes already glistening with your answer. ‘that’s a relief’.

“so you like it?” he genuinely asks.

“are you serious?” you answer in complete bewilderment.

jungkook immediately nods his head many times. very cutely. “yes.” and so serious.

“I ffucking love it.” you emphasize the F which makes jungkook laugh very softly.

feeling extremely relaxed now knowing that his girl is totally into him all over again. — not that you weren’t before, but he just enjoys showing you new sides of him since for jungkook, to be able to maintain such a good and healthy relationship is to be able to keep things alive by doing new, different things.

you see, jungkook is a super active boyfriend. yeah, he does get tremendously lazy, because he is. and sometimes is very hard for him to even start something, but he also pushes himself and tries his best in moving around..

once he finds things that he likes, he just want to share it all with you and it’s been like that since the first day he met you. up to when you two became friends at eunwoo’s house, then the moment he acknowledged his feelings for you.. down to when he couldn’t resist it anymore, admitting to himself how badly he really wanted you.

for his good luck, you were also having quite a hurricane of unanswered questions and feelings on your mind around that time..

each time he thinks about it he can’t help but internally smile, if not physically.

— memory —

it had already passed two years since you two met and there you were, standing there with a cup of glass on your hands.. looking all pretty talking with a group of friends.

when jungkook really thinks about it, it all seems to always happen at his best friend’s events..

he’s walking towards you, making his mind to excuse you from them. you softly placed your empty cup at the side near to where you were standing.

“yes?” walking towards him.

jungkook swears he can feel everyone’s eyes on you both. but as always, all of it didn’t mattered as soon as his eyes met yours.

you were so pretty that night. wearing one of his favorite things ever..

a mini skirt.

he liked to imagine it was because of him each time you wore that.. and it’s all because of a past conversation you all were having between friends one day.

he even recalls the topic so well.

‘what’s an item someone can wear that you’ll say is definitely hot?’

— flashback —

jaeun asked, and it was already jungkook’s time to answer.

“yeah, I like when girls wear mini skirts. that definitely will do it for me.” he chuckles when everyone laughs and some others agree with him.

“oh.. so that’s something that turns you on?“ y/n sort of teases him. a cheeky smirk to her lips.

jungkook tries to humorously not roll his eyes. “eung.” answering with a nod towards you. “but not just with anybody though..” manspreading back into his seat. “..if they want to turn me on, I really do have to like them first.” and his gaze is so intense towards you.

hopefully nobody notices in the room.

eunwoo is the first to respond, “ahh, I get what you mean.”

“me too. actually,”

jungkook can sense some sort of intensity back on your gaze towards him when you respond,

“I’m the complete same. I can’t get turned on with a total stranger, you know?” with a smile on her face, also chuckling about it. “but now, if there’s someone I already know and I’m actually into them.. then that’s a whole different story.”

and there’s something about the way you act that it’s quite intriguing to jungkook. making him wanting to know if what you said was lowkey directed to him..

— end flashback —

..so it isn’t that wrong for him to think about it that way, right?

ever since that day.. he swears you started using more mini skirts from time to time.

or was it that it’s always whenever there’s a meeting with him?

just like a little pattern, he can be one hundred percent sure that you just knew where and when you needed to wear one at the right time and places.

as if you knew whenever he could attend an event or not, how come each time he saw you in pictures of dates he couldn’t make it, at all times, you were just as pretty but using those nice jeans or loose clothes he also loved so much.

never a mini skirt.

he can even picture the first time he saw you wearing one so perfectly. like a brand new painting being freshly made before his eyes,

he specifically remembers you going down the stairs, slowly but surely, still haven’t finished getting ready with the way you were fixing your earrings but he swears he has never seen someone to be so effortlessly stunning before.

his heart almost dropping, pushing and breaking out of his chest.. he didn’t even noticed how he wasn’t even breathing. holding his breath the entire time with that little sequence.

it’s not so much different from how you were feeling now, standing in front of her. “can you come upstairs with me for a sec?” he wished to not sound too creepy.

“um, sure.” even when he can tell you’re a bit confused, you still give him a comfort smile. you know she trusted you and you’re very glad that she does, because you definitely wouldn’t want her to do things she won’t like or even feel uncomfortable with.

—.•*•.—

“there’s something going on?” y/n asked when I slowly guided her to the currently empty, second living room.

“no—yes, actually.” I correct myself as nervous as I try not sound and my fingers slowly fidget with each other.

your face is rather more of concern when you notices my strange behavior. “..what’s wrong?”

but I chuckle a little when I glance at your reaction. “it’s nothing bad or sad, I promise. you can chill a little.”

making you chuckle back, “oh, was my face looking too worried?” cupping your own face as you speak. and I thought that was so cute.

I try to hide my face as I feel my cheeks burn in red, sort of looking down at the floor. engaging to the thought that I was lucky enough that you actually could not see it given to the poor lightning.

“mm just a little.” I paused. “actually? yes.” my tone still shy as I joke around and you laugh about it. but then I start rubbing one hand through the back of my neck when silence arrives and you start to speak,

“so..” taking one step near me. “um,” you stop. “I can’t see you very well from here.. do you mind if I get closer to you?”

and my heart jumped. “mm-yeah.. I mean, yeah. it’s fine.” trying to act cool, I only lean back on what it seems to be like a marbled table.

you chuckle when you get comfortable beside me.

“you’re very cute sometimes,” y/n mutters with a smile in between her teeth, almost as if you were admitting that more to yourself than me.

and you playfully push my shoulder with your upper body when you ask, “so, why are we here?”

with a smile too, I feel my heart beating hard when my face that it’s now facing yours, is very heed of how close you are.

“I.. I wanted to make you a question..”

“sure, what is it?” your eyes so attentive.

I gain courage to stand in front of you. sighing to myself when both of my hands are at each side of your body resting at the table instead of actually touching you. but you’re oh, so close that it’s almost as If I was trapping you against me.

still.. as careful as I am, you don’t show any sign of discomfort more than just give him glistening eyes that seem to be full of curiosity.

must be a great sign, right?

“I want to know..” I paused. “what do you think about me?”

and there’s a couple seconds of silence.

“..a-about you?” your voice rather feathery.

“romantic wise.” and I don’t even think of playing. it was now or never.

“romanticall-“

“yes, y/n.” interrupting her softly, “I want to know what’d you think of me.” I’m determined.

“why?” you genuinely ask.

“isn’t it obvious why i’m asking?”

you softly nod your head to the sides and I can’t help but tsk as I lower my head with a grin before directly pierce my eyes into yours.

“I think it’s very much clear that i’m interested, y/n. I’m interested in you.” I confess. pausing with a soft and shy smile. “I like you and I think I’ve been doing it for quite some time now.”

your expression, rather surprised. “s-since.. when?”

“I think it’s been over two years now.”

you slightly rise your eyebrows, shocked. “that’s literally the time we’ve been knowing each other-“

“exactly.” and my lips are slightly pouting when I answer.

you don’t say nothing else other than just stare at him with a shocked expression.

given to your silence, all I can think about is how this is such a bad sign. so I take a step back or at least try, since you grabbed my right arm when you say,

“wait.”

so I stand there, only staring at you.

“I’ve been hiding my feelings towards you for way too long.”

I blink several times, feeling my heart rise up all over again.

maybe there might be hope.

“aren’t you saying this to make me feel good?” I really wanted you to be more direct.

“do I seem like someone who’ll play with your feelings, jungkook?” and you sort of tease me, but I don’t mind.

“not really.. but again, you’ll never know.” joking back at you when you punch my shoulder. “ouch!”

“I do like you.” you pause. “a lot, actually.” playing with my fingers when you give me a shy smile. “maybe no longer than you but..” sigh. “it’s been a while.”

…that night, despite you two being incredibly happy of mutually liking each other, you really didn’t kiss or did anything else rather than still being friends during a few days.

reason why?

simply because we wanted to make things right. I wanted to ask her out properly, have a few official dates here and there and then.. get to it. didn’t lasted too long when I was already asking her to be mine though. being too way into her.. it was pretty clear I wasn’t gonna keep counting down days after all this years.

— end memory —

“I’m glad you like it, baby.” jungkook smiles, embracing your body into a hug. “I was so nervous you’ll tease me about it..”

“hey!” you softly punch his shoulders. “why would I do that?” cupping his cheeks. yes, it was your favorite thing to do. “I know how you feel about it babe, I could never.” kissing his pouty lips.

“but if l didn’t feel this way, would you think about it?” he raises an eyebrow.

it makes you laugh. “no, silly.”

“why?”

“because you’ll look handsome anyways.”

but then jungkook furrowed his eyebrows into a fake angry face. “just handsome?”

making you roll your eyes as you laugh. “and sexy..” leaving a kiss on his lips with each word.

“and pretty..”

kiss,

“and cute..”

kiss,

“and hot..”

kiss,

and all jungkook does is smile and blush as you do so.

“that’s what I wanted to hear..”

a/n: hope you liked this one! just wanted to add a little bit more to how their relationship was born ^^. to give you a hint of how things will go.. episode 3, it’s fun to read imo, ep. 4 is when the real thing really starts ;)

as always, let me know what you think about these series so far !! I love talking to you and reading your thoughts 🫶🏼.

— TAGLIST: @purplebtsmagic @looneybleus @eyesforjungkook @leah-rose03 @jungkooks21 @kookiescutie

[eucalyptus-lvs]

Your Girl? - Carmen Berzatto x Reader

When I first started writing this it was going to be a stand-alone, but I could also see it as a pt. 2 to Good Luck Charm. Either way, I hope you enjoy it. If you have any thoughts or constructive criticism it's always appreciated. May not be the most canon portrayal of Carmy, but after S3 I need some happy moments. - Elli <3

TW: None. Maybe a suggestive comment or two.

Walking into The Beef you’re immediately hit with the smell of fresh bread and cooked meat. Before you can even make it to the counter Richie's face breaks into a bright smile as he spots you. "You're not supposed to be in today. Couldn't stay away from me, sweetheart?"

Most people found him to be rough around the edges, maybe even misogynistic, but you preferred to think of him as old-fashioned. 

The two of you grew close in the time you spent working together.

Although you started as a dishwasher, Mikey had switched you to the front after two weeks of working there when Richie almost made a kid cry for trying to order a hotdog with ketchup. You quickly learned that your new job was about keeping the peace and making things run as smoothly as the people around you would allow. 

Regardless, it was hard to see the man in front of you as a bad guy after watching him get on his knees to put a Hello Kitty bandaid on Eva's hand at a time when she was adamant about being “champion of the monkey bars”.

"Oh, I never wanna be away from you, honey." You share a laugh. "I just came by to drop something off for the boss. Then I'll be on my way."

"He's in the back if you wanna go on through."

"So I can get sucked into the vortex of chaos on my day off? I don't think so." The fighting has slowed down a bit at the restaurant, but it was still pretty busy. Guaranteeing that the energy level was always high. 

"Good point. I’ll tell him you're here." 

“Thanks, Rich.” You move to stand off to the side in a less crowded part of the restaurant. Taking out your phone, you check the time as you watch him retreat into the back. 

If you make this quick you can still get to the coffee place a couple blocks over before it closes for the day.

After a moment you see them both enter from the kitchen. Richie goes back to the register to attend to the customers, while Carmy heads your way.

"Hey. Richie said you had somethin' for me?" Wiping his hands on a towel and tossing it over his shoulder as he approached you. “Everything okay?”

"Yeah. I was getting ready this morning and saw this on the bathroom counter." You reach into your pocket to pull out a gold chain.

His gold chain.

Dangling between you both from your fingers.

"Shit, I don't even remember takin' it off." Grasping it from your hand to undo the clasp and put it on.

"That's because I did right before we got in the shower. I'm surprised it's still together with all the wear and tear you put it through."

"Yeah, yeah. Thanks for droppin’ it off. I coulda stopped by tonight though. After I close up?" The phrasing of his statement sounding more like a question.

"I was close by. I wanted to try that coffee shop down the street I was telling you about." You took a step toward him and whispered, "As for tonight, you know I want you over, but we're gonna have to make an effort to get some actual rest before we both develop a sleeping disorder."

"You seem to be doin’ just fine.” A grin broke out on his face.

"Did you forget the part where I told you I have to go get coffee?" You reminded disapprovingly.

"Okay, I get it. Sleep sounds really fuckin' good right now actually." He ran a hand through his hair as he paused. "You eat somethin' already?"

You break eye contact to look around the room aimlessly and avoid the question until your eyes land back on him. “....Huh?”

“We talked about this. You can’t starve yourself all day and then do your fuckin’ girl dinner shit when you get home.”

“First of all, you will never know the joys of girl dinner because you refuse to participate. It's the most well-balanced meal I'm capable of. Second, I've been running around all day and I forgot.”

“First of all, the fact that you call a plate with butter noodles, kimchi, a hard-boiled egg, and some red cherries ‘the most well-balanced meal you're capable of’ is scary. It's really fuckin’ scary. Second, I know you're busy. I'm a chef! What kinda asshole do I look like lettin’ my girl eat like that because you refuse to let me cook you somethin’?” He shot back, growing exasperated with the topic at hand.

“It literally covers all the major food groups! Wait-” You paused, tilting your head. Only just processing his full statement. “your girl?”

You can see the exact moment he processes it too. His eyes widened in panic. “Uh I-I meant, I mean we’ve kinda been-”

“Oh my god, you poor baby boy. You're blushing.” A smirk grows on your face.

“Fuck off” His eyes focusing on the floor, shaking his head. The heavy blush spread up his neck as well as his face.

“I'm afraid I can't do that at this particular moment, but maybe we both will later after you ask me to be your girlfriend.” You replied in a sing-songy voice. “Yknow for future reference you typically ask someone when you want to be exclusive with them.”

He leaned closer to you, eyebrows furrowing as he lowered his tone so he wouldn't be overheard. “I-I thought we've been exclusive. I haven't seen anyone else since you.” 

“I haven't either, but I guess if you want it to stay that way you're gonna have to ask me and make this official. Unless,” You lean away, kissing your teeth as you cross your arms. “you're too scared?”

“You know what? I'm not gonna ask.”

“Wow, you've already backed out. You sure there's not some other girl I should know about?” You mocked, knowing he barely had the time and energy to keep up with you. 

Even if he did, you knew there was no one else. Spending most of your nights at each other's place testing new recipes or wrapped up together in the early hours of the morning before the restaurant needed attending. 

That's why it never occurred to you to define what this is. He was making an active effort to have a life outside of the restaurant and he was doing it with you. 

That doesn't mean you couldn't enjoy making him sweat a little though.

“What?! No. I'm not asking because you're gonna ask me.”

“I’m gonna ask you to be my girlfriend?”

“No, smart-ass.” He let out a breathy chuckle, gesturing vaguely. “Your yknow- boyfriend.”

“Well, that's never gonna happen.” You stated like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Why not?”

“Because you're right. I should get a boyfriend that’ll take care of me and all my food-related needs.” Shrugging your shoulders you wave a hand in the direction of the register. Shouting, “RICH-”

“Stop.” He cut you off, raising his hand. “That's not even funny.”

“Oh, come on. It's a little funny.” You giggle, nudging his arm with your hand.

Shaking his head, he leads you to a table to sit down. “I've gotta get back in there.” Leaning close to your ear he whispers, “Sit tight while I make somethin’ for my girl.” Cupping the underside of your jaw with his calloused hand, he places a quick kiss on your cheek before walking off. 

You smile as you watch him disappear past the doors and back into the kitchen. 

You weren't gonna make it to the coffee shop today, but that was okay. Maybe you could go together on your way to work tomorrow.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Richie came up and put a hand on your shoulder, squeezing. “You call for me?”

You put your hand over his and squeezed back. Looking up at him you replied, “Just fuckin’ with Carm.”

“Good girl.”

[mcflymemes]

THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT - THE ANTHOLOGY BY TAYLOR SWIFT PROMPT LIST *  assorted lyrics from the album, some lines slightly adapted for meme purposes but feel free to adjust as necessary

even if it's handcuffed, i'm leaving here with you.

trust me. i can handle a dangerous man.

i love you. it's ruining my life.

does it feel all right to not know me?

i am who i am 'cause you trained me.

quick. tell me something awful.

i loved you the way that you were.

we were just kids, babe.

i can fix him.

you and i go from one kiss to getting married.

you said i'm the love of your life.

way up there, i actually love it.

i just don't understand how you don't miss me.

do you hate me?

did you think i had it in me?

what if i told you i'm back?

i still miss the smoke.

i'm not trying to exaggerate, but i think i might die if it happened.

you look like stevie nicks.

it's hell on earth to be heavenly.

i still can't believe it.

this happens once every few lifetimes.

didn't you hear? they called it all off.

it's happening again.

my friends say it isn't right to be scared.

i might just die.

fuck you if i can't have us.

tell me about the first time you saw me.

are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me?

no one's ever had me... not like you.

stay away from her.

there wouldn't be this if there hadn't been you.

i don't think you've changed much.

that's where i was when i lost it all.

life was always easier on you than it was on me.

i hoped you'd return.

do you believe me now?

what if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time?

what are the chances you'd be downtown?

is it something i did?

oh, we must stop meeting like this.

they say what doesn't kill you makes you aware.

i'm not a donor, but i'd give you my heart if you needed it.

looking backwards might be the only way to move forwards.

the story isn't mine anymore.

what a charming saturday!

none of it is changing.

wild winds are death to the candle.

one bad seed kills the garden.

i'm bitter, but i swear i'm fine.

this place made me feel worthless.

i didn't want to come down.

everything had been above board.

blood's thick, but nothing like a payroll.

you can mark my words that i said it first.

the professor said to write what you know.

all of this to say, i hope you're okay.

your words are still just ringing in my head.

i built a legacy which you can't undo.

who do i have to speak to to change the prophecy?

the effects were temporary.

no, i'm not coming to my senses.

babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it.

you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart.

i guess a lesser woman would've lost hope.

thought of calling you, but you won't pick up.

you're a professional.

long may you reign.

you're an animal. you are bloodthirsty.

now i seem to be scared to go outside.

i don't believe in good luck.

i hate it here.

if i'd been there, i'd hate it.

only the gentle survived.

i'm lonely, but i'm good.

you have no room in your dreams for regrets.

i thought it was just goodbye for now.

are you still a mind reader?

let it once be me.

i haven't decided yet.

i still dream of him.

i'm so afraid i sealed my fate.

it was always the same searing pain.

i can't forgive the way you made me feel.

it wasn't a fair fight or a clean kill.

she used to say she wished that you were dead.

tell me all your secrets.

they tried to warn you about me.

you're in terrible danger.

i'm the life you chose.

yes, i'm haunted, but i'm feeling just fine.

no one asks any questions here.

tell me i'm despicable. say it's unforgivable.

i'm running back home to you.

you should see your faces.

you knew the price going in.

was any of it true?

who the fuck was that guy?

i don't ever want you back.

did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed?

you don't get to tell me you feel bad.

you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me.

am i allowed to cry?

there's no such thing as bad thoughts. only your actions talk.

they're going to crucify me anyway.

i know i'm just repeating myself.

that's the closest i've come to my heart exploding.

[petew21-blog]

Sexy revenge

I died serving my country as a mercenary all my life since I was left the school. Some might say that I did it only for money and they would be right. I did. It pass good. But I was freaking good at my job. I was a pro. And that's why they always called me back. Why I asked for more and more money and the government always provided. Cause they knew I would succeed.

But once, I wasn't the one picking my team. I always do background checks on them. But this one time I was assigned soldiers I knew but wasn't comfortable working with. Especially this one guy who would kill himself just cause his captain said so. The most loyal one I knew. I knew he despised me for the mercenary job. He did it for country, I did it for money. A loyal dog he was, I called him Rex just to mess with him. He clearly didn't like it. And to be honest, I really don't remember his name.

We were on a mission, the goal was clear. Secure the target, eliminate and get enough evidence and leave immediately.

It went smoothly. But as we found the guy, bombs around. Our squad was separated and I was left with Rex alone. We decided to find the evidence and leave. We were ambushed by a group of our enemies. Thanks to me, we managed to eliminate them all, including the target. But our team was still under fire from the roof. We sneaked up there. Rex was covering me and I eliminated the guy and saved my squad. And suddenly a shot went through my chest. I turned around painfully, just to see Rex holding our enemies weapon after firing.

"Nothing perosnal, orders are orders. You were a pain in the ass of our government. Always wanting more money, making your own rules. They know you're good, but so am I. This way, I'll get medals for saving our guys up here. While you will die here. That's where money gets you." and then he shot me in the head

And that's the last thing I remember. My body was transported back to the States. I somehow felt my prevence around it. The more time passed the more I could see the world around me. I become a ghost. I knew exactly why I didn't pass on. My unfinished bussiness was the one who shot me in the head. But how was I suppose to finish the bussiness now since I was a ghost.

Time went by. My body rotted in the ground. I was just roaming the world without no goal. But one day, I saw a ceremonial in the TV on the street. Rex was recieving a medal just as he said. "That fucker". The anger fuelled me. Revenge is the thing that let's me move on.

"I have to get to him somehow. But he is now protected. Hidden in the army. And I am still a ghost that only now knows how to make lights flicker and slightly move objects. Unless I scare him to death I won't get my revenge. I have to get a body."

The first person I tried on was a homeless person on the street. He was high on fentanyl. That made it easier for me cause he didn't fight. But staying in a body that's this high is really hard. I left his body and tried on some kid in a park and succeeded. Ok, next level. A teenager.

My luck was really great today. I picked one who was a pickpocket and was followed by a police officer. So much running after being dead and the possession made it hard for me to run from him. And I got caught. Whiel we were writing on the red light. Me, still in the teens body, I now focused myself on the police officer on the passengers seat. He was asleep, probably from his night shift, maybe that will make it easier for me.

I concentrated and then my soul just moved a bit to the front. Being accepted in the adult body. He did put up a fight even though He was sleep, but I won.

I opened my eyes. My 'colleague' was looking at me and just laughed. "Bad dreams?"

"What?" my deep voice left my throat. What a manly body I picked.

"You were sharing man. You dreamed of some chick atleast?"

"Haha, yeah that's right" I chuckled and then pretended to sleep again to not let him question me again.

I left the teen thief with my colleague and went to the lockers to change and end my shift

Taking off the uniform I found out that the police officer, Adrian Jackson, I now possesed, had bunch of tatoos, hairy chest, muscular body and satisfactory dick. Mine was better. But this one is young. Might be nice to enjoy the young fertility again

I went to the mirror to get a good look at myself

"Ooooooh, look at those GUNS!" I flexed to see what I was now working with.

"This body is really nice. If I get my revenge I could stay being you, Adrian."

Tapping into Adrians mind I found out what his adress was. And what any man, not only gay ones, would do in this situations? That's right. I went to explore my new body in the shower. Feeling the hot water running down was erotic itself. I missed having feelings.

As I was drying off my hairy dick that just shot cum on the shower wall, I knew there was something missing

I found the clothes in his closet that were slightly resembling the ones I used to wear. What was now reflecting at me in the mirror was a young, hot reflection of an adult man, very similar to me as when I was starting my mercenary career.

I took a very revealing photo for later. Don't worry, I have to give this body a nice ride. And FUCK how I wanna ride someone. Whoever it is. Man, woman, anyone.

My plans are about to proceed. I have a body I need to take revenge on Rex. Another step? Leaving Adrian's job as a cop. Becoming a mercenary again. Getting a haircut and get as close to REX as possible.

Surely he will be tempted to take down another mercenary that is just like me before.

Revenge is so sexy if you ask me

Story request from inbox: You can make a story about an old mercenary possessing a handsome young cop, and turning him into a new mercenary.

[slytherinshua]

BLACK CAT

genre. fluff. warnings. not proofread. pairing. taesan x fem!reader. wc. 402. request. no. a/n. idk why i struggle to write for taesan sm its so frustrating even this measly 400 word drabble took so much effort to write like someone bless me with the taesan brainrot or smth it doesn't matter how many fic ideas i have for him its still hard to write anything 😭😭😭😭

“You’re purring like a cat.” You giggled softly, glancing down at Dongmin whose head was resting in your lap. He’d had a long day, and had come home exhausted with only barely enough energy to shower and melt into your arms. Onedoors always said how similar Dongmin was to a cat, but they didn’t even know the full extent of it. He was unbothered or even “cold” towards others, but with you, he was the softest ever. All he wanted to do was be in your arms all day. No one else would believe it if you told them your boyfriend was the clingiest person on the planet.

“Don’t stop, it feels nice.” He complained. You had been massaging his head, letting his freshly washed hair flow through your fingers, until you stopped to speak. 

“Is it relaxing?” You asked, continuing your fingers movements, gently carding his hair through your fingers and kneading his head. He hummed, curling into an even tighter ball than he was before, getting as comfortable as possible.

“Didn’t you say you wanted to adopt a cat a couple months ago?” He questioned a little groggily. He knew how much you loved cats. You always sent him cat videos that showed up on your feed, and you grew up in a cat household as well. The idea of adopting one of your own with your boyfriend made you smile.

“Yeah. But I already have a cat of my own right here, don’t I?” You teased, scratching his raven-coloured hair, pressing a kiss to his pretty forehead. He shifted on your lap so his head faced up, a position in which he could maintain eye contact in.

“Wouldn’t it be so cute, though? A little black kitten. People never want to adopt them because they think they’re bad luck, but they deserve love too.” You remembered telling Dongmin that piece of information months prior in a very devastated one-sided ramble about how unfair it was that people didn’t like black cats. You felt a little proud that he remembered it and sympathised enough to use it as his own argument for getting a cat.

You giggled, “You’re so cute.”

He whined a little, lips downturning just slightly, “I’m serious…” 

“I know. Go to sleep, kitten, we can talk about this more tomorrow.” You shushed him, slyly using the nickname and smirking in victory when you saw his ears flush.

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