#fuck he already did. this is my worst nightmare

[mybiasisexo]

pls consider the stubble 🧎‍♀️

[carnivalls]

good morning. thinking again of juve and her dog

[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  ♡ 

[when-jaguars-are-sick]

okay, so first off, I just have to say that I picked up on Isaac / Oliver vibes, but I thought it was just them being besties, but if they ever get together in a romantic way, just know that I will SQUEAL in happiness

look at the whole group being together 🥰

I swear, I just wrote an f-ing novel here🥲. I hope y'all cry enjoy!

!TW! Harassment, violence, heavy angst and trauma

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I want you to meet my friends.”

Aiden looked at Spirit with genuine surprise, staring at her for a second before grabbing the remote and pausing their movie.

It was their first movie night since Spirit’s appendicitis incident. She’d left Isaac's house just two days before, and it was now Friday. And now, out of nowhere, she asked that?!

“Really?” Aiden’s eyes were wide.

Spirit was looking down at her hands, her face slightly pink. “I mean, you already met Isaac and Oliver. You might as well meet the rest of them.” She then looked at him, feeling embarrassed when he didn’t answer right away, so she continued, “We all go to the End of Summer Festival downtown every year. And it’s tomorrow, so. . . I mean, it’s fine if you don’t want to go. But it could be fun, and—”

Aiden’s surprised look melted away and he started chuckling at her, making her freeze. “What?”

“I think I’m rubbing off on you,” he said, smiling. “Normally, I’m the one who rambles when I’m nervous.”

Spirit blushed and frowned. “I’m not nervous. I’m just—”

“Spirit,” he said softly, stopping her from beginning to ramble again, “I’ll go and meet your friends.” He bumped his shoulder against hers, getting a small smile back from her. For a minute, he just looked at her. The red streaks in her hair had faded slightly, and were looking more like rose gold at the tips. And she was wearing an all-black outfit (knee-length black cargo shorts, an oversized black tank top, and silver chains and accessories).

He felt his heart racing.

C’mon, you idiot, he yelled internally.

“Spirit.” He felt his cheeks growing hot, both excited and anxious to simply ask the question he’d wanted to ask her on the day she got appendicitis. They’d know each other for months now. He loved his dates with her. He loved talking to her. He loved being around her.

“Yeah?” she asked, trying to read his face.

He took a deep breath. Part of him wanted to wait, and wanted to ask her at a restaurant, wearing better clothes than just sweatpants and a t-shirt. But another part of him wanted to be introduced to her closest friends as more than just her friend.

Clearly, the latter part was winning.

“I wanted to ask you if. . .” He swallowed anxiously, his face burning and his heart beating.

“Are you okay?” Spirit asked, brows creasing slightly. “You look nauseous.”

He shook his head, chuckling slightly because he did feel a little bit nauseous, but not for the reason she was likely thinking.

“Aiden, are you—”

“I like you, a lot,” he blurted suddenly, blushing all the way to his ears. “And I wanted to take you out and ask you this in a. . . I guess, a more romantic environment than my living room, but I just. . .” He paused, dropping his face into his hands to laugh at himself. “God, I’m rambling. Ironic.”

Spirit felt her face growing hotter. “Aiden. . .”

“I like you,” he said again, dropping his hands and meeting her eyes. “And I want to know. . . will you be my girlfriend?”

— — —

“Everyone’s late,” Keiko grumbled. “How the hell can EVERYONE be late?!”

“Just be patient,” Amberlynn said, munching on some fried Oreos.

Keiko chuckled at her. “Says the girl who bought food cuz she got bored of waiting.”

“Shush.”

They were waiting in the parking lot, looking for their friends’ cars. Keiko perked up when Jordan’s nice silver Honda arrived. She parked near the entrance and came out with a huge smile on her face. Eliana emerged the same expression.

“Heeeeyyyyyy,” Jordan said, grabbing Eliana’s hand and running with her to Kei and Amberlynn. “Are we early?” she asked when she realized no one else was there.

“Actually,” Keiko said, crossing his arms and raising a brow at his sister, “everyone, including you two, is late. You’re just the earliest of the late people.”

“And you are too perfect,” she shrugged, while Eliana smiled and rolled her eyes at her girlfriend.

“It’s Jor’s fault. She spent twenty minutes deciding between grey and white eyeshadow.”

“White won, obviously,” Jor said, batting her eyes at El jokingly.

Oliver arrived next. Then Isaac, just a few minutes later. When Felix and Atticus arrived, Amberlynn waved them over with an excited grin, oblivious of the chocolate on the corner of her mouth.

“Guys, this if Felix and Atticus,” she said happily.

“It’s nice to meet all of you,” Felix said happily.

“Hiya,” Atticus said with a small wave, a bit shyly.

There was only two people left. Birdie arrived with her hair in shin-long-multi-colored braids instead of her little fro she’d been sporting for a while. Felix seemed in awe of her colorful hippie sense of style.

Now, one person left.

“It’s weird for Spirit to be this late,” Amberlynn said, and Eliana agreed.

Birdie looked at her phone. “She’s not answering my texts.”

“So, where are you from?” Jordan asked Felix, already acting like besties with him.

“London,” he said. “Bloody hell, I love your makeup. Do you do tutorials online?”

She raised a brow, looking proud. “Should I?”

He nodded. “I think so. I’d love to know how to do a fade like that.”

Atticus, Isaac, and Keiko were all chatting together. Though everyone—besides Felix and Atticus—was aware of how strange it was for Spirit to be so late.

Isaac pulled out his phone to text her as well when a familiar sky-blue BMW entered the parking lot. His eyes widened and he smiled, elbowing Oliver slightly. Oliver also felt a smile spread on his face when he noticed.

“I’ll call her again,” Eliana was saying. “Maybe—”

“Hey, Spirit!” Isaac called, making all conversations halt. “Hi, Adien.”

Spirit felt her face grow hot as she made her way over to her friends. “S-sorry I’m late,” she said, trying to act normal despite all the eyes on her. The air was filled with tension and confusion. Poor Felix and Atticus had no idea why the mood had changed so much.

Amberlynn spoke first, looking at Aiden. “Who’re you?” Spirit was also bringing someone new??

Spirit swallowed, trying to avoid looking at Isaac and Oliver’s smiling faces. “Guys, um. . . this is. . .” Spirit felt Aiden’s hand brush hers, and she looked at him as he gave her a small smile. She took a deep breath, looking at her friends and saying, “This is Aiden. . . my boyfriend.”

. . .

For a minute, silence.

“WHAT?!” Jordan exclaimed, eyes widening and a huge shocked smile on her face.

“Fucking finally,” Isaac said, and all the shocked girls turned to gawp at him.

“You knew?!” Amberlynn exclaimed, walking over and whacking him in the shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell us?!”

“Jerk,” Eliana scoffed at him, and Jordan nodded in agreement, crossing her arms and glaring at the blonde. Birdie stayed quiet.

Isaac held up his hands sheepishly backing away from the girls. “Woah woah, I’m not the only one who knew! Olive also—”

“You’re on your own here,” Oliver said with a smirk, hands on his hips. “I only found out a little bit ago. Plus, no one gets mad at me.” He did a little hair flip, earning a pouty glare from Isaac.

The bickering continued—Felix whispering into Atticus’s ear, “I wish we had popcorn” while watching the drama—whilst Keiko and Birdie made their way over to Spirit and Aiden.

“I honestly don’t know what to say,” Keiko said with a surprised chuckle, looking from Spirit to Aiden and back to Spirit.

“I remember you,” Birdie said with a small smile. “You’re Spirit’s ‘friendly acquaintance’ from that day at the mall.”

“Yeah,” Aiden said, adjusting his glasses nervously. “It’s nice to see you again.” Then he looked at Keiko. “And it’s nice to meet you.”

“Same,” Keiko said. He then looked at Spirit. “But you have a shit-ton of explaining to do.”

Spirit nodded, rolling her eyes. She smiled a bit, feeling more relaxed.

The bickering ended and everyone else came over.

Jordan came first, grinning from ear to ear as she said out of nowhere, “You are the chosen one, and my fucking hero.”

Spirit felt her whole face burn and she glared at Jordan, and Jordan ignored the look while watching Aiden blush and get flustered and confused by her random comment.

“I, um. . . th-thanks?”

Spirit let out an exasperated sigh and pinched Jordan’s arm, making the girl yelp and pout. “I thought you’d deny yourself romance your whole life, girlie. Let me have my fun.”

“Your ‘fun’ is annoying,” Spirit stated, and Jordan rolled her eyes and smiled.

“I’m Jordan,” she said to Aiden. “Call me Jor.”

Keiko then introduced himself. Then Amberlynn.

Everyone introduced themselves, and Amberlynn then introduced Spirit to Felix and Atticus, who were genuinely entertained by the whole situation.

“I repeat,” Isaac said to Spirit when everyone began to calm down, “fucking finally. It took you two long enough.”

“Whatever,” she said to him, but she couldn’t stop smiling.

— — —

The festival took place downtown, and that meant not only the streets with rows of restaurants and shops and buildings, but also the downtown park which had much more. The festival was crowded and buzzing by the time all of them finally left the parking lot. Along with the regular popular downtown stores and restaurants, there was small shops, games, food, live music, and even small rides in the park.

“Okay, guys,” Keiko said to all of them. “We’ll meet at the Royal Scoop ice cream shop at 12:30 to get lunch together and see the magic show.”

“Got it!” Jordan said as she left following Eliana while El all but bounced on her feet saying, “I’ve gotta go to the art contest!”

“Wanna go see the beauty pageant?” Amberlynn asked Felix excitedly, and the two of them left together, abandoning their boyfriends.

“And then there was six,” Isaac said.

“Five,” Keiko corrected. “I’mma find that astrology lady who makes all of that cool crystal jewelry that Amber loves. She’s been wanting a black crystal.”

“I’ll go with you,” Atticus said. “Felix loves jewelry.” And then those two left as well.

Isaac, Oliver, Birdie, Spirit, and Aiden were the only ones left.

“Aiden,” Oliver said. “Anything you wanna do?”

“Oh.” Aiden ran a hand through his hair as he shook his head. “I’ve never been to this festival before, so I’ll do whatever you all do.”

“Tell me,” Isaac said with a competitive smirk, “What’s your opinion on Harry Potter trivia?”

While the boys all discussed the different competitions and games, Birdie pinched the sleeve Spirit’s baggy shirt, signaling for Spirit to bend down. Spirit bent a little, and Birdie whispered in her ear, “Why didn’t you tell me? Why Isaac and Oliver, but not me?”

Spirit froze, hearing the hurt in Birdie’s voice.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just. . . I didn’t. . .”

Birdie sighed. “You didn’t trust me to keep my mouth shut,” Birdie stated, letting go of Spirit’s shirt. “I understand. I’m not the best at keeping your secrets. I just wish I’d know my best friend was dating someone.”

“Bird, I—”

Birdie put on a smile, taking a step away from Spirit and saying to the others, “I’m gonna go see if they have the succulent shop again this year. See ya.” And she left, and Spirit watched her go with guilt twisting her stomach.

“Bye midget,” Isaac called after her while Oliver said, “Spirit, anywhere you wanna go?”

Spirit watched Birdie walk away for a second longer before putting on a neutral look and shrugging. “Wherever you guys wanna go is fine.”

“Alrighty then,” Isaac said with a smile. “Let’s go get dunked!”

— — —

Spirit dunked Isaac into the dunking tank on her first try. He barely got to taunt her.

After the blonde came out, soaking wet and laughing, Oliver went.

“Good aim,” Aiden told her, impressed and smiling. Spirit tried her best to smile back, but she still couldn’t shake the guilt that Birdie’s words brought her. Aiden noticed that her smile was off, but didn’t say anything since Isaac was walking back over.

Some little kid managed to suddenly dunk Oliver, and his squeaky yelp make Isaac—and almost everyone else around��laugh hysterically. Spirit only chuckled a bit.

“Heeeeeyyyy,” Isaac said, hooking a wet arm around Spirit and making her yelp and try to shove him off.

“Oh my God, you’re soaked! Don’t touch me!”

Aiden laughed at the two. When Spirit managed to push Isaac off, he ran over to where Oliver was laughing and trembling like a puppy after getting out of the cold water, and she looked over to a food stand she’d already looked at a few times.

Following her gaze, Aiden realized it was a Korean Corndog stand. He smiled at Spirit. “Wanna go grab a snack?” he asked her.

She didn’t look at him, shaking her head. “I only have enough cash for lunch and a few games. I don’t wanna waste it.”

Aiden’s brows creased slightly at the way Spirit’s voice sounded. Sad? Why?

“I’ll pay,” he told her, grabbing her hand and making her look at him. He smiled as he squeezed her hand, and she couldn’t help but smile back and squeeze his hand as well.

Isaac and Oliver went to play a dart game while Spirit and Aiden walked to the Korean Corndog stand, hand in hand. Spirit— to no surprise—got the hot Cheeto corndog, and Aiden got a potato one. They just began to walk around the festival while eating.

“I like all your friends,” Aiden said, smiling. “They’re all so. . . unique. You’re part of a very interesting friend group.”

Spirit smiled at that, a bit of Cheeto powder on the corner of her mouth. “Thanks. They all like you too—I can tell. Sorry if they were weird at first though.”

Aiden chuckled. “I think it just showed how close you all are.” The corndogs weren’t all that big, and Aiden finished his after five minutes. After walking around for ten more—and winding up in the part of the festival in the downtown streets—he was aware that the combination of cheese, potatoes, sugar and a deep fryer was gonna cost him.

“I-I’ll be right back,” he said sheepishly, his ears red with embarrassment. “I saw a store with a bathroom. Could you wait here for a minute?”

Spirit nodded, squeezing his hand before letting go, and he left while Spirit walked to a closed building and leaned against the wall, pulling out her phone and checking her messages. She wanted to text Birdie, but had no idea what she’d say.

“Damn,” she muttered to herself, leaving her messages to scroll on TikTok. She was about to open the app when suddenly:

“We need to talk.”

Spirit froze at the voice, not having to look up to know exactly who it was.

“Go away, Zeke.”

She felt his arm creep around her shoulders, and she wanted to kick him in the gut, but didn’t want to cause a scene. She told him again, “Go away. Now.”

“Come with me, just for a minute, hot stuff,” he said, leaning close to her ear. She could smell weed on him. She knew better than to make Zeke upset when he was high.

“Fine. But stop touching me.”

Zeke backed up and Spirit finally looked at him. He had faded scars of his own from their last fight, and his hair had been dyed a mix of yellow and orange. Spirit scowled as she followed him. “Keep it quick. I’m supposed to meet somebody.”

“Chill, hot stuff.”

Spirit didn’t like this. She followed Zeke around the corner of a building and into the alley there. Her heart began to beat faster as memories from her middle and high school years came back. The alley was quieter and dark enough that Spirit knew no one could see them just by passing by.

“What do you want?”

“Just to talk to you,” he said, getting closer. Spirit backed away. “Y’know, I think we should be friends again. Let’s just forget that ugly little incident, baby.” He reached out to touch her shoulder, and she slapped his hand away.

“Fuck off. If this is all you wanted to talk about, I’m leaving.” She turned to leave, but Zeke roughly shoved her hard enough to slam her against the side of the building and scrape her face a bit. Before she could turn to punch him, he slammed himself against her, pressing her front against the building and holding her hands behind her back.

She started to scream, but he used his other hand to cover her mouth. “Annoying bitch,” he swore, kissing the back of her neck and making her scream more, but she knew no one could hear her. In her pocket, her phone began ringing.

She struggled harder, managing to free one arm and elbow Zeke, making him groan and back away a little. She turned and swung a punch at him, but only got his shoulder before he punched her jaw, knocking her to the ground. She groaned, dizzy from the hit. She felt tears in her eyes as Zeke bent down, grabbing her wrists and forcing his lips on hers, and she felt as helpless as a 13-year-old again.

Zeke stopped, shoving her hard one last time before standing. “I miss you, hot stuff,” he chuckled. “Call me.” He kicked her leg before running a hand through his hair and walking out of the alley.

Spirit stayed exactly where she was, frozen. Eyes wide. Holding her breath without realizing it as her heart raced. She felt sick. She was dizzy and wanted the world to swallow her whole.

She had tears streaming down her face.

Her phone rang, and she snapped out of her panic enough to take a small, shaky breath and pull out her phone. She had a couple texts from Isaac and Oliver, and the calls were all from Aiden. More texts were coming in from her other friends, and she saw that it was past the time they had to meet up.

Her hands shook and she could hardly breathe as she shared her location in their group chat. That’s all she sent before putting her phone away and curling up where she was, feeling disgusted by the feeling of Zeke’s lips on her neck and mouth. She hated him so much. Memories flooded her head, and she again held her breath without thinking, falling into the clutches of a silent panic attack.

Minutes? Hours? Spirit had no idea how long she was there with her thoughts racing.

Stop, she yelled in her mind, cursing at the unwelcome memories. The memories of every time Zeke called her baby. The memories of him forcing her to take a puff of his vape, or of him pulling her hair or laughing at her for crying over her dad. . .

Memories of the times when she wasn’t strong enough to fight back. Like just moments ago.

Black spots were appearing in her vision, but she didn’t care. She couldn’t even feel the burning in her chest. The memories were too overwhelming.

Stop.

Stop!

STOP!!

“Spirit? You in here?”

Spirit didn’t hear those words. There was only the awful memories. . .

“Oh my God.”

Spirit felt hands on her, and felt her heart beat a little faster. Zeke, she thought.

“Spirit, breathe! Look at me, you’re okay!”

“What happened?!”

“I don’t know!”

Spirit felt like she was being shaken. She felt dizzier than she did before.

“Spirit, you have to breathe!”

That was not Zeke’s voice.

“Look at us, Spirit,” another voice—also not Zeke’s—said. Spirit blinked, reacting slightly. Birdie.

“Spirit, you’re okay. Okay? You’re okay.” Spirit felt arms wrap around her. More than one person was hugging her tightly, and Spirit snapped out of her panic enough to feel the burning agony in her chest. She gasped, choking on air as the memories faded and she found herself back in the alley.

She sobbed as she swallowed air greedily, shaking and crying while Birdie and Isaac held her. Aiden was also there, his eyes wide, confused, and terrified by what he just saw.

“You’re alright,” Birdie whispered to Spirit hugging her tightly.

Spirit took in breaths, and let them out for a long time until they slowly went from frantic to calm but shaky.

Isaac pulled away and looked her in the eye. “You okay?” he asked softly, but Spirit didn’t answer the question. At least, not with a yes or no.

Instead, she sobbed one more time and said quietly, “Zeke.”

Isaac’s eyes widened, and Birdie also pulled back with a look of shock.

“Shit,” Isaac cursed, standing. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair.

“What’s going on?” Aiden asked, starting to really freak out. Spirit was finally calm enough to actually notice he was there, and she wanted nothing more than to hug him.

Isaac looked at Aiden, frowning deeply, looking both sad and pissed. “A situation that I’m sick of,” Isaac answered, pulling out his phone. “I’m texting the others.”

— — —

Spirit had Birdie’s arm around her, and she held Aiden’s hand tightly. Isaac walked behind them as they made their way to the parking lot where most of the others were.

“I told Felix and Atticus to keep enjoying the fair,” Amberlynn said, brows creased with worry.

“And Jordan and El are telling some officers we found about what happened,” Oliver said.

Keiko noticed the bruise on Spirit’s cheek and the scrapes on her face, and he looked pissed. All of them were.

Aiden was still confused, but he was more concerned. He felt Spirit squeeze his hand suddenly, and he looked at her. She was looking at the ground, a sad and empty look on her face. He hated seeing her like this. He hated that someone had clearly hurt her in the short time he left her alone. And the way her friends were acting told him this wasn’t a new or strange situation for them.

“I want to go home,” Spirit suddenly said in a small voice, very different from the usual strength in her tone.

“Let’s go,” Birdie said to her softly.

“Wait.” Spirit turned to Aiden and leaned against him, and he instantly understood and let go of her hand to hug her tightly. She wanted to stay there, held by him, engulfed by his warmth, and he didn’t want to let go of her. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” she said quietly to him, barely loud enough for him to hear.

He nodded, and she stepped away, letting Birdie put an arm around her again and guide her away.

Aiden watched her go before turning to her friends, still freaking out. He looked at Isaac. “What’s happening?!”

Isaac shared looks with the others before sighing and saying, “There’s a guy named Zeke who used to harass and hurt Spirit a lot. She saw him again a few months ago, and he hurt her again today. But that’s all I can say. If Spirit wants you to know, she’ll tell you more. Okay?”

Aiden felt almost sick. But there was something familiar about the name Zeke.

“We’re all heading home,” Keiko said to Aiden. “I’m glad we got to meet you.”

“Yeah,” Aiden nodded, still processing. “Same. It was nice meeting you all.”

Everyone else went to their cars, and so did Aiden, but he didn’t even turn his car on. He just sat there, thinking. He wanted to be with Spirit right now. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to strangle whoever had hurt her.

And he felt a heavy guilt in his stomach because he left her alone. His vision blurred as tears stung in his eyes.

He eventually managed to make the drive to his apartment, but the memory of seeing Spirit curled up in that alley still burned in his head. Not even 24 hours ago, he’d asked her to be his girlfriend. And now, this happened.

With a pained sigh, Aiden decided that all he could do was wait for Spirit to talk to him. He wanted to apologize for leaving her alone, and he wanted to be there for her, but he just made sure his ringer was on and waited.

It’s really all he could do right now.

[emmyrosee]

“Hey.”

“Hi?”

This is the first time in four weeks you’ve answered his phone call. He never thought he’d be the one to break no contact first.

Sukuna tried, god he’s tried so hard to keep no contact, but there’s something about your saccharine voice that lures him back like a siren. He can’t get enough of it, and the lack of it in his life drove him crazy.

What you don’t know, is how often he clicks on your contact, how many times a day he dials your number, how much his fingers long to text you.

Even if after four weeks, he’s gone without it.

It’s hitting the call button that he hasn’t done. Until tonight, of course.

His mind scrambles to find an excuse for calling you, jaw opening and closing like a fish, and eyes darting around, even if you don’t see it. His gaze falls onto his sleeping dog, and he sinks his teeth into his lip.

“I just wanted to let you know, I finally got Titan to do that trick. You know-“

“Wow. Thanks for letting me know,” you say sarcastically. “Are we done here?”

“Yeah,” he says, gnawing at the tip of his thumb. “Yeah. Sorry to bug you. I just… thought you’d like to know.”

But neither of you make a move to hang up. He was positive you would immediately, sick of his voice and his attitude, but you don’t. Maybe you needed this as much as he does.

“No,” he finally croaks. “No okay? I’m not done. I fucking miss you.”

“Sukuna, stop-“

“No, you stop,” he snaps, voice tight with emotion. “Because if this is the last time we talk, you’re going to listen to me and you’re going to listen good.”

You go silent. He hears you breathing, and you don’t make any noise to indicate you’re going to hang up. He lets you sit there, pondering, he wants to leave the ball in your court, even if ending the call is his worst nightmare right now.

“Speak.”

He shudders at the coldness in your voice, he rolls his shoulders and slumps back.

“You… are all that I think about,” he says firmly. “You and I, we are golden. I can’t imagine my life with someone else, I fucking hate to, there’s no one for me but you, and the fucking fact that I have to wake up to a cold bed because of something I did, is something I hate.

“I miss you. I miss you so fucking much, I miss your voice and your laugh and your eyes. I miss your cold hands sneaking under my shirt, and I miss the way you fit against me when we cuddled. I miss you so fucking much, I hate this, I hate it so fucking much, and if I could fix it I would, I want to, please let me fix it-“

“You can’t.”

You shut him up.

“There is no fixing it, sukuna. You broke that trust, shattered it. You think I don’t miss you? You’re crazy.”

He calls your bluff, “you’re full of it. You want to get back together so bad it makes you sick. I know it does, I know you.”

“And how exactly have you come to that conclusion?” You scoff.

“Because you picked up the phone.”

You’re silent at that. He sinks his teeth into his lip, “you’d never answer the phone on someone you want out of your life. You’ve ignored people for less, you don’t fool me for one second.”

You’re still silent. He hears you breathing, as if waiting for him to keep going, read you like a book and prove you wrong.

He rests his head on the wall and shakily calls out your name, letting the vowels feel foreign on his tongue from lack of use. Pet names became so popular, his mouth almost forgot how to say your name. “I can fix this, if you’ll let me. I fucked up. But I know I can fix this.”

“You can’t fix shit,” you scoff. “You would’ve never let it get so bad in the first place if you cared.”

“I couldn’t fix what had already been destroyed,” he snaps. “But we know where we went wrong. We knew what went right. We can do this, do not send me away.”

There’s hesitation on your end. He feels it, he feels your reserve crumbling as he speaks.

“Please… don’t send me away,” he whispers.

You sigh. He sucks in a breath in preparation.

“I miss Titan,” you confess. “If we’re going to talk, we’re doing it at your place, so I can see your dog.”

He smirks.

“And I make no promises,” you hiss. “You don’t get the satisfaction of thinking we’re automatically getting back together because I don’t want to do this over the phone. We’re not. Not yet. Not now. But this isn’t a conversation to not do face to face.”

He closes his eyes and lets his body relax.

“It’s a date.”

“Don’t call it a date.”

[hysteria-things]

KISS THE GIRL

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chris x fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: because of his biggest fear, chris has some trouble getting the courage to kiss the girl he’s been connecting with for months.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFF, swearing

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 662

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: okay i know i said a matt fluff but i finished watching the little mermaid an hour ago and thought about this…

commitment is chris’ worst nightmare. he’d rather step on hot coals than do anything with a girl, especially being a boyfriend for crying out loud. he’s getting ahead of himself here, but these are the exact thoughts pacing through his mind at this very moment. why is he acting like this? it’s all because of you.

the two of you met through a mutual friend and hit it off quickly, gaining a relationship to the point where you guys have been talking for months. old chris would say run for the hills and never turn back, but there’s something about you. it’s like you reeled him in without trying.

currently, you’re walking next to each other — not hand in hand but insanely close — on a path that separates the beach from the sidewalk. chris paid for dinner, although you insisted on splitting the check.

this isn’t the first time you guys are hanging out, but this time around feels different. he so badly wants to kiss you; feel his lips in sync with yours. he’d be lying if he said he’d never thought about it. on the other hand, he’s terrified to do so. what if he’s been getting mixed signals this whole time? what if you only see him as a brother?

“are you alright?” your voice startles him as he shakes his head to get out of his trance. “you seem to be thinking about something.”

“i’m fine.” he smiles. “want to walk on the pier? we can get a good view of the sunset from there.”

you nod as he leads the way, the sun making the ripples of the water an orangey-pink haze. you lean your back against the railing, your elbows propped on the metal beside you.

inhaling sharply, he then exhales. he’s surprisingly much calmer now, the moment beautiful along with the girl of his dreams. maybe he can kiss you after all—

PING.

groaning, chris reaches his hand into his pocket where the noise is coming from.

DA BOYZ

nick

did you smooch yet?

no

matt

what are you waiting for?

idk

nick

chris you can’t hear me but i just sighed really loudly i thought you’d like to know

we’re watching you by the way

you’re what

matt

[attachment: 1 image]

hi

bro

nick

KISS HER ALREADY

COME ON

matt

i’ll do it

fuck off matt

nick

i wish i brought my binoculars i can’t really see from here

matt

👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨

this is going to be me and y/n in like five minutes

stop that

matt

i’m getting out of the car as we speak

go home

nick

not until you 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋🥰

sighing, this was his reminder to turn his ringer off. he placed the phone back in its place and sighs. “sorry about that.” he mumbles, moving closer to you to place his hands where your elbows are, leaning down to rest his head on your shoulder. you snake your arms around his neck and play with his hair. “are you sure you’re okay? you’re tense.”

“i want to lay here for a bit, that’s all.”

it’s now quiet, except for the waves hitting the shore. you both are comfortable, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. feeling a peck on your shoulder, it travels to your collarbone… and then to your neck… and then… finally!

it’s hard to tell who pulled in who first, being that you pulled him in by the neck while chris pulled you in by the waist. god, your lips feel good. your mouths dance at a rhythm better than he’s ever imagined. unfortunately, it has to come to an end.

he pulls away to catch a breath, your cheeks and the tip of your ears flushed pink like crazy. alas, you’re grinning like a fool before you say a sentence chris wasn’t expecting at all. “you can tell them to stop staring at us now.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @moncherriis @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @raysmayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @tworosesblackthorn @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hearrtsturns @stars4matt @freshsturns @etershine @tpvmz @sukiipjs @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @ivyyyyyysposts @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mbsbaby @mattsdollie @thesturniolos @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @dwntwn-strnlo @venusbabysblog @meerkatzthings @bernardsbendystraws @hoes4matthew @fratbrochrisgf

[chelseeebe]

wanna be yours

18+. smut. voyeurism ig? eddie, steve and reader are all freaky little fucks;) steddie x reader.

this is just something short and sweet to ease myself back into posting lol. idk if anyone read my post, but i will be going ahead with my plans for a spooky week on my blog!! i'm super excited about it!!!! i need to organise everything but when everything is finalised, i'll update you all :)⋅

───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───

eddie had known he and steve were never going to be the best of friends, that was clear from the moment he’d moved in. 

donning a basketball and a polo shirt rather than a bass guitar and an amp. 

when his girlfriend had started coming around, he didn’t think she liked him much either. 

there wasn’t a day where you weren’t arguing or bickering over something stupid.  

eddie just kept his head down, sliding his headphones over his ears instead of listening to the yelling. 

he did that a lot while you were around, keeping his head low so as to not make it completely obvious that he had a serious boner for you. 

he doesn’t think that steve was the type to take lightly to something like that, more likely to beat his ass than to fist bump over your appearance. 

well. 

maybe you’d caught him looking a few times. gormless in staring at your tight jeans or the tiny skirts you went out in. but that was all. 

you’d usually smile a little, maybe even twirl to give him a better view and then flounce out of the door on steve’s arm. 

but now, his eyes stay clamped shut. 

he’s not stupid. 

the blanket rustles in a certain way when you’re doing something you’re not supposed to be. 

contrary to popular belief, eddie had had sex before. he knew about the little sighs and muffled grunts, that’s why he could tell instantly what was happening five feet away from his bed. 

you whisper something to steve, too mumbled for eddie to really make it out. 

“nah.. he’s asleep,” steve reassures, louder than you had been. 

he wasn’t. but he doesn’t want to look now, squeezing his eyes shut tighter and attempting to control his rapid breathing. 

the mattress creaks as steve pulls your body closer, his chest pressed against your back as his hand fusses with your tiny pajama shorts. 

you exhale softly, signaling that this was no longer just a raunchy make out session and instead a manifestation of both his biggest dream and worst nightmare. 

there’s not much you can do on a university of chicago single bed. but you were sure giving it a try. 

“shit,” your voice shudders, now accompanied by the unmistakable sound of skin against skin.

eddie doesn’t mean to, honest. 

but his eyes flicker, forcing themselves open to witness the x-rated scene in front of him. he can’t help it, his mind going positively crazy trying to picture what was happening. 

he just needed a reference image, something to help him fall asleep. 

you’re already looking back, eyelids flitting shut with every stroke of steve’s cock, your mouth hung open with wetted lips. 

he can’t pull his eyes away. not with your gaze solidly meeting his, not when you were already looking at him. 

your lips quirk into a smile, throwing your head back against steve’s shoulder but your eyes steady on him. 

the blanket bobs up and down, consistent with the rhythm of the old squeaking mattress and steve’s low grunts. his face buried into the back of your neck, acting as a muzzle. 

his hand snakes around your body, fist wrapping around your exposed neck. 

eddie almost chokes on his breath, his fingers curling around his blanket. his cock was throbbing at this point, aching in his tight boxers. 

fuuuck. 

how is he even in this situation? he should be out partying or pulling an all-nighter in the library or maybe even meeting his very own girlfriend. 

no. 

he’s laid up watching his roommate fuck his girlfriend instead. 

your eyes glitter in the low light, just before you pull out the big guns. 

“oh fuuck steve,” breathlessly whining into the room, zero regard to the volume of your mewls. 

steve hums, the hand that enveloped your neck now sliding down slowly to your tits, grabbing hungrily at the flesh. 

eddie’s own hand palms at his skin, pawing pathetically at his thigh in a bid to divert some of the blood rushing to his dick, elsewhere. 

steve’s pace fastens, his own moans getting louder, deeper even. his mouth sucking at the taut skin of your neck. 

you weren’t trying to hide it anymore, blinking slowly as steve pounds into you. the headboard now joining in on the chorus of sounds, repetitive and loud in the otherwise quiet room. 

eddie’s cock twitches, forcing a strangled huff from his throat. he needed to touch you, badly. fingernails leaving half-moon markings in his thigh, counteracting the gnawing ache settling in his cock. 

what steve does next very nearly sends eddie to fucking mars. 

his hand leaves your chest, sliding back up your neck, his middle and fore finger circle your glossy lips before sliding slowly into your mouth. 

holy fucking shit. 

“just like that, honey,” steve coos, his lips cock to the side.

he’s known this entire time.

eyes peering out from over your neck, watching eddie watch you and your performance. 

eddie’s eyes flicker between the two of you, unsure of where to settle. 

this all felt so strangely intimate, like he should get up and go join the two of you. he would, of course, if that were even an option. 

to steve, this was probably some weird power play. a real, dirty kink, maybe. he’d hold this over eddie for the rest of the year, goading and taunting him about the time he watched him fuck his girlfriend. 

but you, he can’t figure out. 

you were looking at him first. 

that had to mean something. 

you draw him out of his thoughts with a thick, raspy moan, stifled by steve’s fingers still between your lips. 

“c’mon baby,” steve groans, averting his eyes back to you, “you gonna cum? give it to me princess,” his thrusts becoming more sporadic as he obviously nears his own orgasm. 

your eyes close fully now, leaving eddie to watch on his own. squeaking out intoxicating mewls with every stroke, every slap of skin. 

your body goes limp in steve’s hold, “ohh shit- don’t stop, please.. please don’t stop,” desperate pleas turning to whimpers as steve comes to his own climax. 

throaty gasps for air mix with your whining words, frazzling eddie’s poor, hopeless brain for the rest of his inadequate life.  

his dick hurts, straining in his hole-y boxers, begging to be touched. he’ll have to tiptoe out to the bathroom once he’s sure you’re asleep. not that it even matters now. 

eddie can’t help but let his mind wander, had he cum in you? was it dripping out of your pussy?

he’s disgusted with himself for even going there. 

steve sighs, placing a lazy kiss to the back of your neck, glancing at eddie one last time before embracing sleep and letting his eyes flutter shut. 

it takes longer for you to come back down to earth, still reeling from your orgasm when your hazy gaze meets his again. 

there’s something different about your eyes, something that was missing from steve’s. the warmness, the friendly crinkle that sat on the corner. he’s not sure but it makes his heart thud even faster. 

you blink a couple times before turning over and nestling into steve’s chest. 

eddie’s left reeling. 

a churning in his stomach that he’s not sure he’ll ever be rid of.  

he waits until your breathing slows completely and steve starts snoring before padding out of the room, an obvious tent in his boxers and a dying urge to make it disappear. 

life wouldn’t ever be the same again. 

[oddinary4bts]

To Give a Helping Hand | jjk (ch 2)

☆summary: when Jungkook finally approaches you at the gym, he realizes you've been wanting him just as badly as he's been wanting you.

☆pairing: idol!Jungkook x female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: smut, idol!au

☆warnings: unedited, curses, explicit content: mentions of hard drugs (in a metaphor, no character does hard drugs), jerking off, oral sex (male receiving), fantasies about female oral sex (face riding), ball fondling, a tiny bit of marking, exhibitionism (they are in a car?), deep throating ish?, mouth fucking

☆word count: 3.1k

☆a/n: pure unedited sins again bc you guys asked for it and I am far too horny for mr jeon jungkook (thank you, calvin klein). I also wrote this when I was severely depressed and in need of a distraction so my bad if it sucks haha

☆☆☆☆☆

Jungkook watches himself in the mirror. His hair clings to the sweat on his forehead as he curls his arms, the strain enough to make him wince. Yet he pushes through, finishes the motion and then goes for another one.

He always trains until failure. Because it’s the best way to grow muscle, yes, but also because he likes the pain of it. Likes the burn, likes to put his body through the worst.

He knows he can take it.

It helps that you’re just a few benches away, doing some Bulgarian split squats. Twenty-five-pound dumbbells in each hand, you’ve been going for twelve reps each time, your focus unfaltering as you stare at a spot on the floor in front of you.

Jungkook wishes you’d look at him.

His next bicep curl ends on failure, and he winces as he lets go of the weights, putting them down on each side of the bench. He grabs his water bottle, taking a long swig of it as he looks at your reflection in the mirror.

You’ve got perfect form, your strong thighs pushing up on what he thinks is your fifth – sixth? – rep on your right leg. Your muscles shift under your skin as you move, and Jungkook forces himself to look away.

He doesn’t want to end up with a boner like he did last time. He’s been ashamed of himself somehow, and he doesn’t want to repeat it.

But it’s like you’re keen on teasing him. On being a walking nightmare, with those same devilish biker shorts that fried his brain that time. He’d told himself that he’d approach you, but so far he hasn’t been successful.

Indeed, you’ve suddenly decided to start coming to the gym with a friend, and though your friend is cute, with dark skin that hints at a perfect skincare routine, Jungkook doesn’t want to embarrass himself in front of you.

But yes, you’re keen on teasing him, doing squats next to him after he’s moved to do shoulder press on the machine. Indeed, despite all the squat racks being empty in the gym right now, you choose  the one right in front of Jungkook, and it’s a battle of will to refrain from looking at your ass each time you’re bending down.

So Jungkook looks up to the ceiling, pushes up, and he clenches his jaw at the strain in his shoulders. It’s a good burn, one he knows will leave him sore, but it’s also one that leaves him thirsty when he finishes his reps. Unfortunately, his water bottle is empty, so he walks to the water station, the music in his earbuds loud.

He’s almost done refilling his bottle when you come up behind him, with your own water bottle in hand. He feels your eyes on his profile and, heart suddenly racing, Jungkook meets your gaze.

You already have a small, knowing smile on your lips when his eyes find yours. Beautiful as ever with your high ponytail, Jungkook finds he gets lost in your gaze, unable to find the exit.

It comes to him when the water in his bottle overflows and he makes a mess on the floor. You chuckle and, despite his cheeks burning, Jungkook faces you fully.

“You come here often?” he asks over the sound of his earbuds, and he quickly takes one out.

If you’re surprised that he’s speaking to you, you don’t let it show. Instead, you raise your water bottle, motioning towards the water station. “Just a couple of times per workout.”

Jungkook feels like an idiot, yet he steps aside to let you fill up your bottle. He doesn’t walk away though, just watches you, and damn if you aren’t even more beautiful from so close.

It isn’t fucking fair.

“I’ve noticed we often come here at the same time,” Jungkook says, scrambling to find something to talk to you about.

You offer him a corner smile as you finish filling up your bottle, twisting the cap back on. “We do.”

He purses his lips, wondering if you can hear the thunder in his chest, and then he says, “I’m Jungkook.”

Your eyes twinkle with mischief, and he wants to curse himself because obviously you know who he is. But you surprise him, replying with your name and a polite bow of your head, and immediately mirrors the motion.

Then he says your name, and he has a feeling it’ll become his favourite word to moan whenever he comes. It’s inevitable – the lust he has for you is clouding his vision even now, as if the rest of the gym is fading out of focus. You don’t disappoint, holding his gaze, lips slightly parted as if you, too, are imagining what it’d be like to be together.

To tangle in bed together, up until the rest of the world cease to exist.

Is it stupid that Jungkook asks for your number next? He doesn’t think so. Especially not as you oblige, putting it into his phone. It feels like a victory – a huge one, one he knows he’ll celebrate in an entirely not appropriate way, yet he can’t stop himself from smiling to you.

It’s like you’ve given him strength to finish his workout grandly. Indeed, he maxes his PR on his next two exercises, and he leaves the gym with a comfortable soreness in his arms and shoulders, right after he’s taken a quick shower.

To his surprise, you’re standing outside, near the building in the dim light of dusk, eyes glued to your phone when he steps out of the gym.

“Need a lift?” he can’t help but ask.

You startle and he does feel bad, up until your features break into a smile that makes his heart race in his chest. “Just waiting for the bus,” you say.

Jungkook cocks an eyebrow, surprised that you can afford this gym yet use public transport. He wonders, are you the kind of girl who cares about the environment to the point that you decided not to get a car? Something about the thought is adorable, and Jungkook toys with his lip piercings for a few seconds.

“I mean, I really don’t mind lifting you if you need to,” he repeats, hoping with everything in his soul that you’ll say yes.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” you insist, scrunching up your nose cutely. “But thanks for offering.”

He takes a few steps towards you so that you don’t have to speak so loud anymore, desperately looking for something else to say. “Where’s your friend?” he asks, thinking he’s a genius for asking.

“Sera?” you answer, as if he has any clue what your friend is called. “Oh, her boyfriend picked her up earlier.”

“He didn’t offer to drive you?” Jungkook says, not bothering to hide the condescendence in his tone.

You wince. “I fear that’s too much to ask of Yeonseok.”

“Then I really must drive you home,” Jungkook insists, offering you the sweetest smile he can convey.

“And what, find out where I live before you’ve even taken me out on a date?”

It’s like the world stops turning, and all Jungkook can see is you, and that twinkle of mischief lighting your gaze.

“You want me to take you out on a date?” he asks, fully aware of that bright pink Kooky plushie swinging from your keychain right now.

“Who wouldn’t?” you tease.

He narrows his gaze, yet can’t help but play along with you.

He’s been going insane for this moment for weeks after all.

“Then let’s say this is our first date,” he says. “We can drive around and if you like it, I’ll drop you at home, if you don’t I’ll drop you somewhere else. Deal?”

You smile, genuine, eyes sparkling with amusement. “Deal.”

And that’s how Jungkook finds himself in his car with you seated next to him, your head bobbing along to the music on the radio. Though you’re quick to turn towards him, your gaze burning on his profile.

“How long have you wanted to talk to me?”

Jungkook chokes on his saliva, and he coughs as he glances at you, the tip of his ears reddening. “What?”

“You think I haven’t noticed you staring at me every time we work out at the same time?” you tease, and you laugh as he shrugs his shoulders.

“You’ve been putting on a show, it’s not my fault.”

“I have?”

He lets out a non-committal sound that makes you laugh, a crystalline laugh that sounds like he’ll get addicted to it far too easily. Like heroin – one hit and he’s a goner.

As you laugh, you rest your hand on his thigh, giving it a quick, playful squeeze.

Insane. He’s fucking insane for you.

“Listen,” you say after a tense silence with your hand on his thigh. “I really am not looking for a relationship right now.”

He hears the underlying truth – you wouldn’t date an idol. He doesn’t blame you.

It’s not like he plans on ever dating you anyway.

“But if you want some fun, then I’m all in.”

His throat feels dry, and Jungkook wets his lips, glancing at you quickly. The mischief has shifted into pure lust, something he wasn’t expecting he’d see right away.

Hell, he’d imagined he’d have to work for it. But you’re offering yourself on a silver platter, and he’d be fucking dumb to let the opportunity slip away.

“You aren’t what I expected,” he says.

No, you are ten times better.

You run your hand up and down his thigh, head tilted to the side as you look at him. It’s hard to focus on the street in front of him, especially as his dick already starts getting hard.

“I hope that’s a good thing,” you let out on a low, breathy tone that makes him truly lose touch with sanity.

“Have you ever seen the city from the mountains?” he asks seemingly out of the blue.

You pout, glancing towards those you can see in the distance. “On hikes, yeah I have. Why?”

“I know a spot.”

He doesn’t actually, but he ends up finding one anyway after you’ve driven around for a little while. Though you can’t see most of the city from here, it’s still beautiful, twinkling lights looking back at you down in the city.

You admire the view, and Jungkook gets lost admiring you. Your profile is delicate, your hair still just as fluffy and unruly around your head. He instinctively pushes a strand behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek as you meet his gaze.

The car fills with electricity, with an intensity that cannot be ignored, and Jungkook dives in, pressing his mouth on yours. You immediately kiss him back, your hand finding his thigh again, and Jungkook pushes his tongue in your mouth, lapping you up, making the kiss far too languid for his own good.

You let out a breathy sound that makes him see stars, and when your hand shifts closer to his dick, he feels all his blood rushing down. His own hand finds the back of your head, and he tilts his to the side to deepen the kiss, right as he softly grunts.

You’re a good kisser. All lips and tongue, and Jungkook wants to pull you on his lap, to keep on kissing you all night long, but it seems you’ve got other plans in mind. Indeed, you pull away from the kiss, leaving him breathing raggedly as he looks at you quizzically, but then you’re quickly pulling your hair back into a ponytail.

His heartrate skyrockets as he understands what will happen next. It’s like he’s stuck in one of his deepest, darkest fantasies, and you’re jumping right in with him.

You truly are devilish, aren’t you?

When your hair is safely tucked in a ponytail, you meet Jungkook’s gaze. Your eyes shine with undiluted lust, and it steals the breath from his lungs.

To be the receiver of such desire…

He’s going to come far too quickly, isn’t he?

You pat his thigh again, leaning in for another kiss. Jungkook immediately obliges, colliding his mouth with the softness of yours. You palm him through his pants the second he pushes his tongue between your lips again, and Jungkook grunts as he instinctively bucks his hips, seeking for more friction.

“You’re a little impatient,” you say as you pull away, and you glance down at where you’re touching him. “Maybe we should get you out of your pants.”

It doesn’t take more than that to convince Jungkook to push his pants down, and he’s soon sitting there, his dick out in his car as if someone can’t just pull up and see.

Yet the thought turns him on, and Jungkook is infinitely thankful that he took a quick shower at the gym when you grab the base of his dick, jerking him off once.

“You’re so big,” you breathe.

All he can do is grunt as you stroke him again, your grip firm. It feels even better than he imagined. Like heaven – your hand fits perfectly around him, and you expertly flick your wrist whenever you near the top.

All that’s missing is lube, but you’re quick to bend down, blowing a breath on the sensitive tip of his dick.

“Shit,” Jungkook lets out.

“You often get sucked in your car?” you ask like the brat you are.

He can’t reply. Not when you wrap your lips around his tip, and he thinks he’s floating out of his body. Your mouth is wet, warm and so, so soft around him he thinks he might just come already.

“No,” he chokes out as you swirl your tongue around him before pushing down on him, up until he hits the back of your throat.

It takes everything in Jungkook not to buck his hips and fuck your mouth. But he wants to be nice, wants to play nice, if only so that he won’t scare you.

He doesn’t want to lose you before he’s even had you.

He reclines his seat, allowing you a better access, and you reward him with a small moan as you can take more of him in, and it’s enough to make his mind spin with addictive bliss.

You pull away, a string of spit connecting your mouth to his dick. “Good boy.”

That’s it. He’s a goner. Especially when you truly get to work, offering him the perfect combination of sucking and tongue, of your hand jerking him off in time with the bobbing of your head. He keeps his moans low, more grunts than anything, but when you moan as he hits the back of your throat, Jungkook curses loudly.

“You like this?” you tease, blinking away tears from the gag reflex you’ve been holding in.

“Holy fuck,” he answers, and you laugh lightly before taking him in your mouth once more.

You’re drooling all over him, sucking his soul out of his body, and Jungkook feels his balls tightening.

Already.

“Wait,” he lets out, and you pull away, breathing heavily as you meet his gaze.

“Uh?”

He wipes the drool on your lips, and you immediately suck on his thumb, tongue teasing the pad of the finger. You’re going to fry his brain before the end of the night, aren’t you?

“If you keep sucking me like this I’ll come.”

You smirk, downright lustful. “Isn’t that the point?”

“I want to fuck you,” he says, and he hates that he sounds so pouty, but he can’t help it.

He wants to live every single one of his dirty fantasies with you, after all.

“And I want to know what your cum tastes like,” you counter, squeezing his dick hard.

Jungkook moans, his eyes fluttering shut, his defiance fully leaving him now. If you want him to come in your mouth, then he’ll happily oblige. And then you’re bending down, going back to work as he murmurs your name.

You’re better than he imagined, so much better, and his dick twitches in your mouth as you moan. He feels the vibrations all along his shaft, and he grabs your ponytail, increasing your rhythm. Pushing your head down on him so that you take more of him, and when you don’t complain, instead moaning again, Jungkook stops holding himself back.

He fucks up in your mouth, and your hand flies to his thigh, your nails digging in his skin. The slight pain sets his nerves alight with desire, and he loses himself in you, in the rocking of his hips as he snaps them up in your mouth.

You take him in, holding the gag reflex in, moaning as he establishes a quick rhythm to chase his orgasm. He thinks he’s in love with your mouth – you’re so good, too good to him. He highly doubts he deserves it.

Not when he hasn’t given you anything in return. And he wants to taste you, wants you to sit on his face until he can’t breathe anymore and he gets drunk to the taste of you. It’s that image that brings him closer to his high, so close he already buzzes with it.

You push him over the edge when you grab his balls, gently squeezing. He moans out your name as he comes, unloading his cum deep in your throat as you take over, bobbing your head up and down slowly to milk his orgasm.

And you do milk his orgasm. You fucking do – he’s truly, fully swimming in bliss by the time his dick stops twitching, his balls fully emptied.

You pull away from him, and he thinks he loves your mouth even more when you push your tongue out to show that you swallowed everything. It’s so hot he’d fool himself into going for another round, but the hour is getting late, and he’s got an early morning tomorrow.

“Holy shit,” he lets out.

You laugh, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “That felt good?”

“Fuck, yeah it did.”

You smirk, tilting your head to the side. “Happy to oblige.”

“I’ll have to repay the favour to you one of these days,” Jungkook says, and he hopes you don’t hear the underlying hope in his tone.

He doesn’t want you to think he’s been dreaming about you, about your body for so long.

You wet your lips. “Your place this weekend?”

And though maybe he should say no, as you’re the fan and he the idol, Jungkook answers with, “Bring a bottle of wine.”

Prev | Next

☆☆☆☆☆

Yeah this is pure sin. Porn with practically no plot hahah did we like it? Let me know what you thought!

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.

[gothamhappiness]

You are my heaven 3 (Bruce Wayne x f!reader)

It was supposed to be a little imagine of a dark and lonely Bruce Wayne switching place with another Bruce Wayne from a parallal universe, but I wrote more than I thought. And then you asked for more :)

My masterlist is here.

Part 1 // Part 2

Warnings: no proof reading, stressed out neglect!Bruce, mentions of dead characters, jealousy and all kind of bad feelings, language

This was Hell. It had to be a nightmare, right? It couldn’t be the reality. It couldn’t be the truth. Someone was toying with him, torturing him even. It had to be an illusion of some sort. Or maybe he was stuck in the darkest part of this mind, full of his worst fears.

No child, no wife, no Alfred, no Justice League, no good day, no good night. 

Gotham wasn’t usually funny, but this was pure punishment.

At first, Bruce thought that the worst part was how awful the business was with Wayne Enterprises; there was so much work to take care of, all the time, and no one he felt like he could trust. 

Then he realised how empty his manor was. It was dark and quiet. It was making him want to throw up because of how tight it was making his chest and stomach. He couldn’t stand this utter silence. He couldn’t stand to not be able to play the annoyed mentor with his children and the good husband to you.

Not even having Alfred was a punishment, a torture, a cruel life. How was he supposed to care about everything without Alfred? How was he supposed to stay sane without the man who raised him? How was he supposed to survive without him? 

He so deeply missed the children. He tried to find them, but they were in prison, dead or gone from Gotham: Dick was a police officer who died during a mission, Jason was in prison, Tim died in his parents' accident, Stephanie had left Gotham forever, Cassandra killed herself to not be a killer anymore, Duke died as he looked for the Joker, Damian didn’t exist.

And Barbara looked so happy, Bruce didn’t even dare going to talk to her. And when he passed by her, hoping she would talk to him, she just seemed surprised to see Bruce Wayne in her local library. All the people he knew didn’t know him anymore or weren’t there to know him or to care about him.

In some desperate attempt, he looked for Talia, but the league of assassins simply kicked his ass for having tried and reached for her. They weren’t interested in him, merely wondering how he knew about them. He almost got killed that night, but he found a way out, like he always did.

Except he didn’t seem to be able to find a way out from this Hell.

The worst part was definitely your absence. He was so used to going to bed with a pretty little wife by his side. He was so used to kissing her goodnight. He was so used to her cute little whines for five minutes more of cuddles in the morning. He was so used to having his arm around her waist wherever they went. And he missed that so much. He wanted you so badly. He needed you so badly.

Fuck, he promised himself to not ditch any more dates with you once he would be back to what reality was supposed to be. He would take such good care of you. He would make you forget about the divorce papers and not just by saying to Alfred “She had a good life here and she loves the children, so she’ll stay”. No, he would make sure you actually wanted to stay. With him. With your husband.

He needed to find you in this world. Maybe you could help him, at least to not completely go insane.

He quickly found you, and for a brief instant, he was so relieved that you seemed to know him. You clearly weren’t his wife since you didn’t even live in the manor, but thank god he hoped you were his girlfriend. But your coldness hurt him more than he would ever admit it.

“What do you want, Bruce?” you groaned when you saw him at your door

“Just wanted to check on you” the man tried to smile

“Look, I’ve already told you that I’m not interested. You creep me out, man. And it’s not because the cops won’t do anything if I call them, that you can keep going here. So please, stay away from me and stop sending me gifts that I need to send you back. We’re not a thing, and we’ll never be” you told him before closing your door.

Bruce knew he was going to lose it.

He started to try and recall what happened the night before everything changed so drastically in his life. He slowly remembered this mission with the mad scientist. He remembered the light he saw right after he was going to sleep by your side. He was feeling so weak and strange then. Something happened then.

He needed to find the man. When he did, the scientist was actually a teacher in the University of Gotham, who was talking about the possibilities of parallel universes. It was how Bruce finally understood what happened. It wasn’t his reality. It wasn't an illusion. It was another world.

For a very brief instant, he felt very bad for the version of himself who had to deal with this world and this constant loneliness. But he couldn’t care. He wanted to get back home, surrounded by his people and their attention. He was relieved in a way because now he knew how to escape from this place.

He worked hard for several months. He showed a very dark version of himself, as he was forcing the scientist to find a way to send him back. He was slowly losing himself. He needed to come back home soon, or he would start to actually kill; why would he care about crossing the lines in a world that wasn’t his? In a city that didn’t like him anyway? In a life where no one loved him?

The media were commenting on how ruthless Batman was lately. Bruce couldn’t help it. He was feeling so bad. And there was this nasty little voice inside his head telling him over and over again that “Maybe no one realised you were gone. Maybe no one wants you back. Maybe that’s why you’re still there months after. Another man is fucking your wife, another man is talking to your children and to Alfred, another man is leading WE and the Justice League. And they all don’t care. Worst, they like him better”

The scientist wasn’t obsessed with the idea of getting rid of Batman so he thought about things quite differently. He found a way to send Bruce back to his world but he didn’t switch places. So when Bruce arrived where he was supposed to be, he was quite shocked to see another him.

What was worse was that you were by his side, laughing at something the man murmured to you. His arm was wrapped around your waist. It was then that your husband noticed how round your belly was. You were pregnant. You were heavily pregnant. There was no way it was actually his child. It had to be his. Didn’t you notice it wasn’t your husband who was making love to you? Or did you want it? Him?

The sole idea was driving him crazy with pain and raw jealousy. The jealousy that the Bruce of the other world felt when he first arrived in this world, the “real” Bruce” felt it too. His life has been stolen away from him, and he needed to get it back. 

It drove him even crazier when he saw how his children acted around the stranger. How could they all seem so happy around him? He hoped that no one understood what happened. He hoped that you all thought it was him.

He didn’t know what to do though. He couldn’t come back to the manor, he couldn’t show his face, so he hid in the dark for a little while. He kept stalking all of you, getting sick in the stomach each time he saw his children or you or the Justice League with his other self. Everyone seemed to do so much better.

Or maybe it was just his paranoia and the mean voices inside his head that wanted to make him believe that you all loved this other Bruce better than him. He couldn’t stop thinking about the child you were carrying. He had wanted that too, but you never seemed ready.

And now…

Now he needed to find you.

--

Part 4

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

Taglist for this series <3 (you’re my heaven)

@bat1212

@karakento

@kneelforloki

Thanks for the ideas <3

@motherofdragons1998

@silverklaus

@optimisticmoonunknown

@kazuko-stuff

[fireya-x]

AO3 Link (full tag list) || masterlist

John Price x Reader

It's the middle of the night, and the phone is ringing. It's John, and something is wrong... but it's a different kind of urgency.

[2k+ words]

cw: phone sex

You jolted awake as your phone buzzed right next to your head. Dizzy and still hazy from sleep, you reached for it, revealing both the clock and the culprit who called you in the middle of the night.

3:54 am. And then your heart dropped. John.

All possible scenarios shot through your head. Had something happened to him? Did someone call from his phone to confirm your worst nightmare?

Your fingers trembled as you answered, bracing yourself for the worst.

“Sweetheart,” his voice rumbled through the phone, raspy with exhaustion, the sound of his breath making your stomach flutter. You could suddenly practically smell him – the lingering scent of cigars and that rough, masculine cologne you loved.

“Oh my god, John, I thought something had happened.” Relief washed over you.

“I know, I’m sorry it’s early where you are. Just a shit day. I needed to hear your voice.”

Your fingers tightened around the phone. “Where are you right now?”

“Can't tell you, love.”

You sighed and reached to turn on your night lamp. “Right.”

“It’s far.” He said it so quietly. 

“Feels like a million miles.”

"Yeah. But I can’t stop thinking about you. Tell me how it feels, being so far from me."

There they were, the commands that left him so easily, that control that made you so addicted to him. "I wish you were here." You whispered. “Are you ok, John?”

“No.” He answered, that rough edge to his voice making your stomach clench.

“Talk to me.”

“I am so fucking hard for you.”

You sighed. His words, so direct and raw, had you excited immediately. It didn’t matter that it was the middle of the night. Your body reacted to this man uncontrollably. The image of his hands moving on your body was already forming in your mind. You could practically feel it.

“Hmm. Does that mean it’s all for me?”

“It’s always for you. Just you.” You heard a groan, and it sent a shiver through you.

“Tell me what you’re doing.” You whispered, trying to hide the sudden excitement.

“Fisting my cock thinking, wishing , it was your sweet cunt fucking me.”

His voice was so rough, so needy. It was enough to make your body ache. “I wish I could see you,” you admitted.

“If you could, you wouldn’t just be seeing me, sweetheart, you’d be bouncing on this dick screaming your lungs out.”

"Sounds like a good time," you chuckled, even though it felt as if you could barely breathe.

“I will bloody devour you when I get back.”

“Is that a promise?” 

“Mmm.” He groaned. “It’s a guarantee.” The roughness in his voice was unbearable.

You chuckled lightly, and as if on autopilot, your hand had already begun to descend underneath your nightgown. 

“What are you wearing?” He asked with a deep, raspy rumble that set you on fire.

“Your favourite.” 

“The black satin lace top?”

“Yes.”

“Oh fuck. That one shows your nipples so perfectly underneath - ah, fuck. Sweetheart, pinch them for me.” You did. Your hand circled your right breast and with two fingers you slowly pinched a nipple between them, light at first, then a little harder. But your hand felt clumsy compared to his.

“Does that feel good?”

“Your hands do it better, John.” The thought of his hands on you was enough to make you want to cry out.

He chuckled. “I wish I could take those tits in my mouth. God, I miss your body.”

You whimpered at the thought of his hot, wet mouth licking and biting your nipples. It never failed to get you so close to that sweet edge when he did it while fucking you. You instinctively let your hand wander down towards your mound, but, as if he could read your mind, he interrupted you.

“Here’s the rule, love. You can’t touch yourself.”

Your hand stopped in its track. “Well, that’s not fair.“

“I didn’t say this would be fair. I need to fucking come, and you’re going to help me do that.” He hissed and you swore you could hear the slick movement of his hand on his cock through the speaker.

“What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to not be able to think straight when this is over. I’ve been thinking about fucking you this entire week.”

He was a force of nature through the phone, You could feel the intensity of his desire pulsed through you with every word, and you felt your body twitching as if he were right there.

“Just thinking about you makes me so fucking hard, love.” He groaned again. He knew exactly what to say to make you long for him.

“I’m thinking about shoving my cock between your lips, right into your mouth. Ungh. Then I’ll make you hold your legs up so I can fuck you deep and - fuckin’ hell.” He groaned. You could definitely hear his frantic hand movements.

“I wish I could be there and suck that fat cock of yours.” You whispered, pressing your thighs together for any sort of friction.

He moaned, loudly this time. “You’re driving me crazy.”

Your hand was wandering, but you obeyed. You felt the desperate need to give in. The ache in your clit was burning too much. The urge was getting so strong, but you were fighting to hold back, but every move you made only made you want it more.

“Run your fingers down your thigh,” he commanded. “Press a little, pinch it with your nails - imagine it’s me biting that sweet soft skin - fuck.”

You did as he said, and you could almost feel it, the touch of him, the light scrape of his beard against your thigh, the soft touch of his teeth biting you just next to your most sensitive area.

“Oh God,” you whispered, barely able to catch your breath, as your body tightened around the need, and your clit began to pulse, “I - I need -”

“Good girl,” he said, a deep, grinding groan escaping his lips, "Let me hear it. Fuck . You make me so hard.”

It was just like second nature to you to obey to him, to do as he told, to give your pleasure completely up to him even if he was thousands of miles away. That’s how strong his power over you was. And you loved it. But you were so close to breaking, to losing control. You needed to touch yourself. He was driving you mad.

The ache between your legs got almost unbearable. Your clit throbbed, your pussy clenched around nothing, the friction you were seeking was just not there. You wanted to scream. You wanted to move. You wanted to touch yourself. You needed to release.

 You didn’t realize that a frustrated sound left your lips before it was too late.

“What’s the matter, baby?” He asked gently, yet so full of need.

Baby . It was a word that he only ever used when he wanted to make you go wild for him, to make you lose control. He knew that too well.

“I -” you could barely force a whisper out. “Please, John, I need to touch myself.”

“No.” He shot back immediately, and you whimpered, your hips started moving, humping nothing, just desperately seeking anything to soothe the ache that he had caused.

“Please, for the love of -“

“I said no.” Your whole body was pulsating with need. And he knew. He knew you too well. “Stop moving around so much. You won’t come until I allow you to.” 

You could feel the power of his voice as if he was right there with you, it was like a gust of wind physically real against your skin. Your clit was pulsing to your frantic heartbeat, responding to him. You were close to tears, the need to just bloody touch yourself was too overwhelming.

He let out a long, raspy breath. He knew you were going to snap if he didn't let you touch yourself. “Alright. You’ve been so good. I need you to do something for me. Take that purple vibrator out of the night stand.”

You froze. “How do you know -"

A low, hearty chuckle followed, cutting you off. "I know you more than you think. Highest setting. On your clit, now.”

“What?”

“You heard me, sweetheart. Can’t see you, so I need to hear you, baby.”

Your clit was pulsating with so much anticipation, burning and swollen, almost too much. You felt like a dam about to burst. 

You obeyed, taking the vibrator, feeling its cool touch against your skin. The highest setting vibrated against your most sensitive spot, and a shock of intense pleasure coursed through your body.

You whimpered, a gasp escaping your lips as the vibrations sent shock waves of heat through you.

“Mmm, that’s it. Let it all out. Keep it on there. Come for me, love.”

You knew exactly what was coming. You had reached the peak. And you had his permission.

The pleasure that had been denied from you finally came crashing down.

And at that moment, you were lost in a violent, powerful wave of pleasure, every nerve ending tingling as you came for him. The feeling was so intense, so consuming, that your body felt like it was being torn apart.

And you knew he was feeling it too. “Oh, sweetheart.” He groaned, a rough and desperate sound. “I know you want me so badly.”

"Yes, John," you said, your voice trembling as you tried to catch your breath. "Oh God.” It was a long, deep, sigh. 

“I’m not done yet. I know you fuck that thing thinking about me," he continued, enjoying the moment, knowing the power he had over you. And there was no time for a break.

He’d hit a new level of intensity now, and the pleasure was searing, almost painful. If he could have seen you right then, your cheeks were burning crimson.

“Ain’t that so?” he purred. “Answer me, sweet thing.”

“Yes,” you breathed out, your voice trembling with lust.

“Yes, what?”

“I - I fuck myself, wishing it was you.” You confessed, barely able to get the words out.

“Then that's what you will do now. With me. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, giving into the power of his voice. You wanted him. You needed him.

“Close your eyes, love.” You did, drawing the vibrator up to your most sensitive spot.

"I want you to slowly push it in and imagine it’s me.” It was a raw command that sent a thrill through your body.

“This doesn’t even compare to you, John.” You said it, meaning every word, the toy was just a cheap imitation of how he could make you feel.

He chuckled. “Use your imagination. Me, hovering over you, kissing from your throat, over your tits, shoving this rock hard cock into you - mmm.” You heard him stroking himself again. 

You started to fuck yourself with the vibrator, slowly at first, the image of him above you a welcome and addictive fantasy.

“Fucking you so deep that your eyes roll back, and you scream my name - fuck.”

“Oh, God. Fuck me, just like that.” You moaned. Your hands started moving a little faster.

The movement of his hand, the wet rhythmic sound of him fisting himself returned. “Yes, fuckin’ hell, love. Think about me, how much I want your body against mine.” 

You could tell he was holding, just a little, and you knew he was trying to wait for you, but it was hard for him.

You couldn’t breathe, the intensity too much. Your heart raced, it was as if every muscle of your body was quaking with pleasure.

“I want you to fuck yourself hard, like I would fuck you hard.”

His words were like a whip. You started moving faster, giving in to the power of his command. You felt that sweet urge, that need, that desperate pull toward the edge, and you knew you were about to break.

You moaned, a breathy sound. “Fuck, yes, oh my god!”

“Come for me,” he whispered, a rough sound escaping his lips. You could almost feel him there with you. His movements got faster as well, and his breaths quickened. "I want to hear it,“ he moaned into the phone. “I’m close - so fucking close.”

He groaned, making a sound that made you want to move faster, push him deeper inside of you.

He was thousands of miles away, yet you were completely at his mercy. It was this control that led you so perfectly into that release.

It was a beautiful pain.

You came again, a wild and desperate scream left your lips, your body shaking with the power of it. You whimpered and screamed his name, almost in pain, but it felt so good.

“Fuck. I can’t stop.” He moaned into the phone. “You’re making me come, baby.”

His breath hitched. He was a man of control, but he was losing himself to you as his release washed over him. The sound of his moan was raw. You could almost feel the intensity of it pulsing through the phone.

You loved hearing him absolutely lose himself, the groans and panting was such a raw sound that was stronger than any distance between you.

You wanted to stay there in that moment, but you could feel yourself already drifting back to reality. It was hard to remember that he was so far away. It was so easy to imagine him right there, his hands on you.

You heard him take a deep, calming breath, trying to catch his own. “Thanks, love. I needed that."

"Mhm," you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep. You were so tired. "I love you,” you whispered.

“I love you, too, sweetheart.” His voice was so soft. It made your heart ache.

“Do you have any plans for when I get home?” he asked. 

“Hmm.” You let out a soft laugh, “No.”

He chuckled, that rough sound that always made you feel like he could see right through you. "Come on, give me something to look forward to.”

“ I’m not enough? “

"That’s not what I meant, sweetheart.”

“Well, I’m imagining all the things I’m going to do to your cock -” You said it slowly. “I might have to punish you for leaving me for so long. You'll see how much I miss it.“

“Just miss my cock, not me?” You could hear him smile through the phone.

“I was just joking.”

He laughed. “Go get some sleep, love. Or I will keep you up the entire night.” The playful and needy undertone of his voice wasn’t lost on you.

You were so close to giving in, but it was so late.

“You’re a jerk,” you whispered.

“No, I am not. Go to sleep.”

“Goodnight John.”

[autumnleaves1991-blog]

It Feels Like Home (Logan Howlett x F! Reader) Part 1/?

A/N: This is dedicated to anyone that requested a soft/hurt comfort Wolverine story. This is only the first part, I hope you enjoy!

Pairing: "The Worst One" Logan 'Wolverine' Howlett x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + for language, mentions of abuse/assault, nightmares, showering together (non-sexual), being sick (cold), Logan being protective, deadpool and wolverine spoilers.

Word Count: 3.8K

It was just another boring Monday evening at the bar when you first met him. The floors were sticky, the jukebox in the corner crooning, drowning out the conversations only mildly interrupted by the cue balls smacking together. 

But when he entered, the room seemed to shift. His shoulders were slunched down, making him seem small but it did little to deter the others in the room from outright staring. And who could blame them? As he slid into the stool across from you, lifting his eyes to stare at you, you could feel the liquid pool inside you. The dark brown hair, tussled from running his fingers through it, lips swollen from constantly biting, and those eyes. It takes a moment before you realize he’s asked for a drink while you’ve been ogling him at your bar. 

You turn grabbing the whiskey and a glass, turning back and shouting when the owner, Jim, grabs your wrist tightly. “We don’t want you here,” he sneers at the man, no not a man a mutant, the last mutant. 

“Just give me one drink and I’ll go,” he sighs, tapping the bar with two fingers. 

“You’re not wanted here,” Jim lets go and pushes you further down the bar, ignoring how your feet stumble and you hit the counter hard, wincing. 

But the man at the bar doesn’t. “Take it easy,” he warns, eyes narrowing, “she didn’t do anything.” 

“Jim,” you clear your throat, putting down the glass and rubbing at your side, “we can give him one drink, right?” 

Jim glares and you lower your eyes, before he sighs loudly, “One drink, then he gets the fuck out of my bar.” He sticks out a finger towards you and you slowly raise your head, “and don’t fucking talk to him.” 

Jim walks back towards the office and slams the door, and you step forward, pulling out a fresh glass, putting it on the bar, and filling it. “I’m sorry about him,” you grab a rag and start cleaning glasses, “he can be a real asshole sometimes.” 

“I thought you weren’t supposed to be talking to me,” you stop and glance up, catching him staring at you as he quickly drinks the shot. 

“I can talk to whoever I want,” you go back to the glasses, “and for the moment, I choose you.” 

You grab the bottle and pour him another drink, ignoring those around you staring daggers into the side of your head. “You’re making some enemies,” he grabs the drink and downs it, eyes widening slightly when you fill it for a third time. “But I get the sense you don’t give a shit.” 

“I don’t,” you raise your head, leaning on the bar, tossing a finger back and forth, and raising your voice, “these fuckers try to make it seem like they are holier than thou by judging you. But we’ve all made mistakes in our life.” 

He swallows, tapping his fingers and watching as you fill the glass, “I made more than a mistake,” he raises the glass to his lips. 

“So it was on purpose?” the glass pauses and he lifts his eyes to meet yours, “because if that’s the case it changes things.” He narrows his eyes, lowering the glass with a clink as he sets it down hard on the bar, the liquid sloshing over the rim. His silence is telling and you break contact and go back to cleaning glasses, “maybe we started on the wrong foot,” you put the glass down with a sigh, telling him your name. 

He doesn’t respond and you roll your eyes, “This is usually the point where you tell me your name.” 

“Seems like you already know all about me, bub,” he grabs the glass and tosses it back with a wince. “I’m the Wolverine, the fuck up, the murderer,” his glare could melt iron but you don’t bend easily keeping his gaze, “but they call me Logan.” 

“It’s nice to meet you,” you pour him another drink, “so what brings you to town?” 

Logan furrows his brow, “what the fuck?” 

“Business or pleasure?” you continue, ignoring him. You giggle when you glance at him, seeing the utter confusion on his face, “I’m trying to change the subject. I think you’ve had enough doom and gloom for a lifetime.” 

His eyes soften for a second, so quickly you could have blinked and missed it before he scoffs, “I’m just passing through.” 

“Where are you headed?” 

“I-” he hesitates, “I’m not sure.” 

“Stop fucking talking to him,” Ron one of the regulars stands behind him, and he slowly turns to look at him. “The boss told you to serve him one drink and get him the fuck out, are you hard of hearing? Stupid bitch.” 

“What did you say?” Logan turns all the way around and stands. The tension is electric as other patrons stand and take a menacing step closer. 

“Enough!” you shout, coming around the bar to stand in front of Logan, ignoring how he’s so tall he can see over your head. “Everyone stand down,” you lift your arms out like wrangling a bunch of raptors. “Ron, don’t be a fucking asshole!” 

Suddenly a gun shoots off to the right and you flinch curling in to cover your head, and a warm body wraps around you, tugging you into their chest. “What the fuck is going on here?!” Jim holds the shotgun and you straighten up, hands pressed to Logan’s chest, his hands still wrapped protectively around your waist. “Get your hands off my fucking bartender,” he swings the gun towards Logan who pushes you behind him. 

“Why don’t you lower the gun, bub?” Logan lifts a hand toward Jim. 

“You don’t tell me what do,” Jim aims the gun at him, “now pay your tab and get the fuck out of my bar.” 

Logan keeps an eye on the weapon, covering you with his body and pulling his wallet from his pocket, grabbing a hundred dollar bill, and putting it on the bar. He turns to look at you over his shoulder, his voice quiet when he whispers, “see you around, sweetheart,” before taking off through the side door. 

The silence stretches, and Jim lowers the gun before turning to you with a glare, “My office, now!” 

The ass-chewing you received that night should have been enough to deter you from ever speaking the name Logan again but the next night when he showed up sitting in the same stool at the bar, you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips. “Hi,” you whispered, glancing around the mostly empty bar, Jim was off for the evening, and the other patrons already lost in their cups. Tuesdays were always the slowest. 

“Hey bub,�� his voice is gravely and sends shivers down your spine. He waits for you to pour him a drink before catching your wrist softly when you pull back with the bottle, “you okay?” 

You pull from his touch and put down the bottle, his hand quickly retreating thinking you don’t want his touch. You put out your hand, palm up and he watches you for a moment before slowly putting his hand in your waiting palm. You squeeze, smiling at him, “I got my ass chewed out, and threatened to lose my job but besides that nothing. Jim knows he needs me.” 

“I’m sorry I got you into trouble,” he looks around, “he around tonight?” 

“No, he’s never in on Tuesdays. And he usually leaves by 11:30 each night.” The edge of his lips curves for a second before he tosses back the drink, understanding what you’re trying to tell him, and he nods. 

“That’s good.” 

The rest of the week passes much the same, Logan showing up well after midnight when the majority of the crowd and Jim have retired for the evening. The two of you sharing stories over whiskey, and 80’s power ballads. There was something safe about having Logan there, an understanding between the two of you, you’d never experienced with another. 

Each night he’d wait as you locked up the bar, walking you to your car before taking off down the street, an uneasy friendship forming. But everything changed on Saturday. You woke with a splitting headache and a fever, tossing and turning in bed, sweating through the sheets you reached for the cell on the bedstand, and texted Jim you wouldn’t be in. 

The whole day was miserable, laying there sick as a dog and trying to keep down water and some soup from the cabinet. It was around 11:00 pm when you felt the fever finally break and you lifted your phone to see the time. It only took a second through the haze to feel the utter terror take over. “Logan,” you gasped pushing back the blanket and getting dressed as quickly as possible, the whole process taking you longer than normal. 

Logan stumbled out into the alley, the crowd cheering behind him as his inebriated body slammed into the trash cans. “Taking out the trash!” Jim shouts with a grin before spitting on him and slamming the door shut. 

He didn’t bother getting up, it wasn’t worth the effort. He lowered his head back and looked at the stars sprinkled across the sky seeing a swell of clouds looming in the distance, his heart starting to beat faster at the sting in his eyes. He closes his eyes as the first drop of rain falls from the sky, and he lets it quickly drown him, his clothes plastered to his skin. 

“Storm,” he whispers her name, his chest tightening as he struggles to breathe through the pain. His friends are dead and gone, and it’s all his fault. He’s so lost in his thoughts he doesn’t hear the footsteps getting closer. 

“Fuck,” you blink, glancing down at him and he slowly opens his eyes squinting as the water drips down his forehead. You purse your lips for a moment before sighing and leaning down, balancing the umbrella in one hand and reaching for him with the other, “Come on, help me.” 

“Leave me,” he slurs, cursing when you don’t quit, “fuckin’ leave me!” 

“Nope, not happening,” you drop the umbrella and quickly get soaked in the downpour, “come on, time to get up.” He growls, and you see the beginning of his claws break through his knuckles, “going to stab me?” You raise a brow at him, “then do it.” 

His claws retract and he sighs loudly before standing on unsteady legs, his body leaning forward to faceplant when you grab him around the waist. “Fuck,” he’s heavy, and you struggle before getting him upright and leading him toward the parking lot. 

A couple of men stand outside the door to the bar by some bikes and you try to hide his face as you shuffle him toward your car. “You finally taking one of the boys up on their offer?” they jeer at you and you smile tightly walking faster, and cursing when you hear the boots sound behind you. 

“Come on,” you urge the man beside you, “they can’t see you.” You reach the car, open the passenger door, and shove him inside, quickly shoving in his leg and turning around to lean against the door, blocking him, your breathing fast and hard from the effort. 

“Wait,” one of the men stops, squinting through the glass, “is that, that fuckin’ mutant?” They all freeze looking between the man slumped in your car and you, and you back up as they move closer. “You like mutants, slut?” they close in and you reach for the key in your pocket, hand quickly finding the pepper spray and sliding the safety off. 

The words spewing out of their mouths are vile, the rain soaking through their clothes as they corner you into the streetlight. The smell of their breaths reeks of alcohol and you go to pull out the pepper spray when one grabs your wrist and twists, smiling when you let out a painful gasp. “Oh, come on slut, we know you like it rough,” he grins.

“Let her go,” they all freeze, turning and staring at the man leaning against your car. 

One of the men, grabs your arm and pulls you into his chest, his hand running over your breasts, “and what are you going to do about it?” You squirm trying to get away from his touch, and the claws extend, his hand quickly leaving your breast to push you behind him. 

“You don’t want to do this,” Logan warns, pushing off the car and standing straight. 

“Oh, I think we do,” the man in front of you smiles, pulling brass knuckles from his pocket. You watch with wide eyes as they pull out a variety of weapons; guns, knives, and even nunchucks. The air is electric, the streetlight flickering as if it senses the tension before one of the men shouts, “Come on, let’s go!” 

Logan grins, “Let’s fucking go.” 

You drop to your knees and crawl through their legs, scrambling up before the axe drops and reach for Logan, coughing up a storm and trying to catch your breath, his claws retract as he grabs you pulling you into his chest and looking down at you with a furrowed brow. “What’s wrong-”

“Don’t kill them,” you hold the lapels of his coat, nails digging in as he growls at them over the top of your head as if they made you sick, “it will only make things worse.” 

“I won’t kill them,” he pushes you behind him with a grin, “just a little light maiming.” You nod and turn towards the car, sitting in the driver's seat escaping the rain and turning on the heater. The screams are quickly drowned out when you turn up the music, reach for a towel from your swim bag in the backseat, and dry your body the best you can. 

A few minutes later the passenger door opens and Logan plops beside you. He’s covered in blood but you don’t comment, tossing him the towel and heading towards home. The ride home is silent and when you pull into your house, he gets out before the key is out of the ignition. You scramble out, watching as he walks back towards the road, “where are you going?” 

“Listen,” he stops looking back towards you, water dripping down his face, “I appreciate what you did back there. But that is where this partnership ends, I don’t need your charity. Just follow the rest of the world and hate me, it will save you a lot of trouble.” 

He turns away and you follow, “Listen, it’s freezing outside, and I know for a fact you have nowhere to go. It won’t kill you to accept help for a night.” 

“No,” he turns angrily, “but it could very well get you killed. Those guys back there were ready to assault you for helping me. Imagine what people will do to you if they find out you let me stay here. I have enough blood on my hands.” 

“So you’re going back to the park to sleep?” you put your hands on your hips, his brow furrowing. “You’ve been at the bar every night for the past week. You leave when I do and I see you go into the park.” 

“You stalking me, princess?” he sneers. 

“No,” you shake your head, shivering, “but I see someone that could use some help. And I am offering it. Take it.” 

He watches you for several moments, and you feel your fingers start to lose feeling from the cold, shoulders trembling as you tuck your hands into your jacket. “Fine,” he bites, following behind you as you lead the way to the door, hiding your smile. Your fingers shake, the key struggling to find the lock and he holds onto your hand, his hands solid and warm helping you unlock the door before quickly pulling away. 

“You need to get warm,” he mumbles quietly, locking the door behind him and pushing you further into the house. The water pools beneath you and he frowns before sweeping his hands under your legs and lifting you into his arms. “Where’s the bathroom?” your eyes are wide as you wrap your arms around his neck, nodding towards the stairs. 

He doesn’t break a sweat as he carries you up and into the bathroom. He sits you down gently, quickly going to turn the shower on, the steam filling the room. You struggle with the zippers and buttons on your clothes, the shaking worse now that you’re out of the rain and he watches for a moment before sighing loudly. 

“Trust me,” you snap your head up, raising one brow and gasping when his claws descend on his right hand, “I won’t look.” 

“What are you-” the words evaporate when he runs the claw down your front, you close your eyes waiting for the pain but nothing happens except your clothes falling to your feet in ribbons. When you open your eyes you see his back, stiff as he faces the door, “thanks.” 

He doesn’t reply except to nod, and you pull back the curtain and pause, hesitating for a moment. “Do you want to join me?” His head snaps to look at you, his eyes on your own, never straying lower. “I don’t mean anything sexual, I just….I just thought we could both be warm.” 

His eyes change, less of the harsh lines, something complex, and his eyes keep yours as he starts to strip. You give him a moment when he hesitates at the suit hidden behind his clothes and you get under the hot water, letting it warm you up. A moment later the curtain moves back and he fills the space behind you. 

You turn towards the wall, letting out a harsh cough, and he leans around you reaching for the soap, “you’re sick,” he doesn’t bother phrasing it as a question, “why the hell were you out in this weather?” 

You turn, looking at him, water dripping down into your lashes, “I knew you would come. I thought if I could stop you before you went inside and I wasn’t there. I was trying to protect you.” 

His eyes soften, and he nods, “let me take care of you, sweetheart.” He rubs his hands together, holding them hesitantly before you step into his touch, allowing him to wash you. You relax under his touch and he turns you, stepping behind you to press his chest flush to your back, your head leaning back over his shoulder as he rinses you under the hot water. He repeats the process with your hair, allowing you to close your eyes and rest your head on his chest while he cleans you both. 

It’s the most intimate you’ve ever been with a man, and you’d had sex several times before. But something about this was different, his hands tracing over your body was not sexual both of you getting comfort from the touch. 

You lift your head, and he freezes almost as though you’re going to tell him to fuck off, but instead you pump some shampoo into your head and gesture for him to bend down. He does without complaint and his eyes drift closed as you wash his hair, his hands resting gently on your hips, you take your time, washing off the dirt and grime. You can’t help but wonder when the last time he had a shower was before you’re directing him under the water to rise. His lips release a soft moan, and you smile softly seeing him so relaxed. 

He slowly opens his eyes, seeing your lips turned up and he tugs you back into his chest. The water begins to turn cold, and he quickly leans down to turn it off, before pulling you back into his arms and resting his head against your own. You feel the ghost of his lips press to your forehead before he reaches for the towels and wraps them around your body. 

He gets out first, reaching a hand out to help you out before drying you completely. “I think I have some clothes that might fit you.” He pauses, looking at you questioningly, “my ex left some of his clothes when he skipped town, they might fit you.” 

He nods, watching as you go into the bedroom, coming back out in fresh pajamas and handing him the shirt and boxers. You leave him to get dressed, waiting in the hallway and leaning against the wall with your eyes closed, your head throbbing. 

The door quietly opens and you stand up straight opening your eyes to see him in the black t-shirt and plaid boxers. “Goodnight,” he mumbles, walking past you back towards the living room. 

“Wait,” you reach out without thinking, hand landing on his shoulder, solid and so warm. He glances down at your hand and you go to pull away when he reaches for it, holding it lightly in his own. “You can sleep with me,” you swallow down the nerves, “if you want. No pressure, just..I don’t want to be alone tonight.” 

He watches you, contemplation clear on his face weighing the pros and cons. He gives a shallow nod, squeezing your hand before letting go. You don’t question it, turning back towards your bedroom, Logan’s footsteps following close behind. You tug the curtains closed, flicking on the fan overhead and pulling down the covers, Logan’s hand hovers over the t-shirt before pulling it off and climbing into the bed. 

You can’t help the way your eyes trail down over his muscles and a smile tugs just barely at the corner of his lips when he opens his arms and you collapse into them. He reaches across, flicking off the lamp and you both relax into one another, sleep quickly claiming you as his breathes even out. 

Sometime around 3 am Logan begins to stir, his arms around you tightening and his breath quickening.You grogilly rub your eyes and lean back, watching his head thrash back and forth as he starts to mumble. “Jean, Scott, Charles, Storm, Beast-” he repeats the names tormented and you put a hand to his chest feeling his pulse race. 

“Logan,” you whisper, rubbing gently the crease between his forehead, “it’s just a nightmare. Come back to me,” he stills, his heart still racing beneath your palm but he slowly blinks open his eyes. “You’re safe,” you whisper, his hand clutching the one on his chest tightly, his eyes wide, frightened from his dreams. “You’re safe, come back to me,” you tighten your grip on his hand, “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Everyone leaves me,” he whispers, brokenly, pressing his forehead to your own, your heart shattering for this man. 

“I won’t,” you shake your head, wrapping your arms around him and pulling his head into your chest, “you’re safe here, you’re home.”

I hope you enjoyed and let me know what you think!

[strawberryblue-blog]

Seven minutes in heaven

—Pablo Gavi.

summary: a night of fun with your friends and your worst nightmare + Y/N x Pedri platonic.

warnings: YES. +18. smut, explicit content, enemy to lover, jealousy, fingering, etc.

words count: +2.6k

#SEXYNOTE: I apologize if there are spelling errors. English is not my first language. Thanks for the support 🩵

The bottle rolled into the center of the human circle as all expectantly watched over and over again. All your friends were surrounded in a big circle while laughing and joking, most of them were drunk and after several hours of karaoke and dancing they had finally decided to sit down and play a game to kill the boredom.

The bottle game is not something that was really your style but you were bored and by now nothing mattered, you just wanted to keep having fun. With each passing round there were always squeals of delight and jeers, you could tell that everyone was so excited about the game that you looked like pubescent teenagers (although most of you still were). Your glances scattered to the boy sitting in front of you, who still like you had yet to spin the bottle or play the game. You tucked your hair behind your ear as you watched the boy smile at you, he looked so handsome today, it made you sigh internally as you acted like a five year old girl flirting with her crush.

The looks became consistent as time went on, both you and he kept seeing each other with complicit smiles. You clearly liked him, he was handsome and so kind. Pedri Gonzalez was the dream of every woman in Spain. He was probably one of the sexiest men you've ever met, with a good personality, kind and super tender. Were you expecting to play with him tonight? Definitely. You were eager to spin the bottle and beg for him to stand on it, so you would have a reason to get close to Pedri.

When it was your turn to spin, you excitedly grabbed the bottle and leaned in close enough to get into position. Your fingers trembled as you spun the bottle and everyone was feasting their eyes waiting for it to stop. It was exciting and terrifying at the same time. But who cares? Today it was all or nothing.

It honestly didn't bother you that it would stop with anyone else in the round, everyone here seemed cute and asking a question or a challenge was nothing more than a game to you. As the bottle began to stop, your stomach fluttered as you gave a fleeting glance at the boy in front of you who smiled kindly at you.

Then, the bottle stopped. And so did your pulse.

No way. You swallowed hard when the person pointed out in the round was not who you expected but the opposite. It had stopped at the one person you didn't want to point out in the round. Damn.

"It's Gavi!" you heard your friend shout in amusement and your heart pounded.

What the fuck? Pablo Gavi, are you serious? No thanks! You want to say quickly but you just frown in confusion. It's now that you regret turning that bottle.

"Truth or dare?" said Ferran looking at you both.

You open your mouth but the words don't come out of it, you're still a bit shaken and you definitely want to ignore the fact that just happened.

"Challenge, challenge, challenge!" everyone in the room started shouting and cheering them on.

You are sure that at this moment your face is a poem. You quickly deny in disbelief. There were more than ten people in this room, of all of them, did it have to touch you with the only person you didn't have a good relationship with? the only person you don't like? that you had done something wrong in this world for Karma to surprise you like this?

"True" you say quickly trying to make this happen as fast as possible. You just want to play and have someone else spin the bottle.

"Only challenges are allowed from now on! Questions are already boring!" mentions one of your friends and everyone agrees shouting.

You shook your head and your gaze is directed towards Pablo, who smiles indifferently as if the situation will not affect him, compared to you. Was he enjoying it? You'd rather answer any question, even the stupidest, than have a challenge with him. It was pointless!

"Dare then" Marc states and you roll your eyes helplessly.

Continuing to deny it wasn't going to repair the fact that had already touched you with Pablo and your friends wouldn't leave you alone if you kept insisting.

"It's only a game after all" you thought sighing internally.

"I'll put it on!" shouted Caro, one of your best friends.

Oh no. You look at her pityingly but her look is pure amusement, you know it won't be quiet. She was a savage and had no mercy in setting challenges or asking questions.

"Seven minutes in heaven" she said in her cheerful tone of voice and everyone squeals at her proposal, laughing and cheering.

Your face fell at that moment. A shiver ran down your back and you could feel your belly contract at the challenge. You couldn't see yourself right now but you were sure it felt like you had just been given the worst news of your life.

"You're crazy, change it" you said snorting in denial.

You would accept any challenge, walking on the edge of the pool blindfolded, throwing yourself off the table without seeing and trusting Pablo, any stupidity, but you couldn't accept that.

"What happened to 'whatever it takes' to have fun?" she retorted in derision.

Those had been exactly your words when they started the game and you were up for anything. But that wasn't a fair challenge. Even you hadn't decided what to do.

"Come on, María had to show Fermin her breasts and look at them!" she squealed in response.

Your head turned to the boys a little further away from you who were kissing nonstop. Her challenge had been wild but it was no comparison to yours. At least she liked Fermin, they had only done each other a favor. On the other hand, you and Pablo didn't get along, everyone knew that. Caro had lost her mind. You weren't going to accept it.

"I don't want to play" you mumbled putting your arms across your chest.

You heard the groans of your friends, who were starting to call you boring and you kept shaking your head, trying to convince them to change the challenge.

"Someone seems to be afraid" you heard Gavi's mocking voice and your blood boiled.

"I'm not afraid!" you shout in response. Everyone watches the scene and you can see how many of them hide laughter at the sight of you exalting yourself.

Caring for your integrity is being afraid? No. They're crazy if they think you're going into a room alone with him. You don't know him at all and you don't want to meet him.

"It's only seven minutes, it's not that big a deal either" Joao said with a chuckle.

"You don't even have to do anything, you guys can do in there whatever you want" agreed Tania, your other friend, with a certain flirtatious look winking her eye.

"I had to lick Ferran's abdomen and you insisted i had to do it" says Valentina and everyone nods, starting to cheer you up and you can see Pedri's curious look at your challenge, you can also see how he is having fun.

He was supposed to be your challenge, not Gavi! You wouldn't bother going into the room with Pedri. But when you see that there is no escape and you can't get away with it anymore, so resigned you sigh looking for some courage to comply.

You curse out loud as you get up from the floor quickly shaking your ass. You hear the murmurs of happiness as you start walking towards the room and you can feel someone coming up behind you. The faster you are, the faster this ordeal will end.

As you enter the room and Gavi walks in behind you you can see your friend poke her head through the door with a certain smile, you try to calm your anxiety or you will end up murdering more than two people tonight.

"It'll be seven minutes counting when you close the door and we'll hit you when it's time" she warns and you snort angrily. "Have fun Y/n!" she whispers and you show her your middle finger in goodbye before she starts walking towards the round of people.

And now that? You start walking as far away from Gavi going to the other side of the room as he closes the door and your nerves start to burn in your belly. Finally you are alone, too alone... It's almost terrifying. You don't hear noise at all, since the room is a bit far from the group and they probably keep rolling the bottle and playing while you are gone.

Will it be long before it's time? No one says anything, you just stand there. It's uncomfortable and torturous.

The minutes pass like days, you can feel Gavi sigh deeply as your gaze is directed everywhere but at him, but you can feel his gaze on you. So much that you start to feel your nerves accelerate your pulse and make you feel more anxious than usual.

It's time? You already want to get out of here and reproach your decisions. You don't even know why you recommended playing this game, now you were a prisoner of the consequences and you regretted having said that any challenge was possible.

Yes it's true, you were not ashamed of the challenges but you didn't want to play with Gavi. He was a jerk who played with all the girls, self-centered and a cretin with a certificate.

Not your type at all.

However, you always knew he was handsome. He has charisma and a cute smile that sometimes you hate. You weren't going to lie that you were a little attracted to him, it was pointless not to admit it but his personality ruined it and you ended up disliking him.

"Why are you so nervous?" he asks taking a step towards where you are standing.

Your gaze meets his and a shiver runs down your spine. Why do you suddenly feel so intimidated under his gaze? You can't show weakness.

"I'm not" you say slowly, clearing your throat. "I just don't want to be here, it's stupid" you complain.

Gavi laughs hearing your tantrum. He's laughing at you.

"You wanted to play this game" he mutters wryly.

"I'm not supposed to play with you!" you squeal and you quickly fall silent noticing your words.

You and your big mouth. Now he'll have something to tease you with for days, you know he won't keep quiet about it and that makes you feel angry.

Gavi's smile widens, he's making fun of you and you can't allow it. You shouldn't have said that. He gets on your nerves. You can't even think straight.

Damn, he keeps getting closer and it makes you more nervous. There is no more space behind you and you gently collide against the wall of the room.

"So you wanted to play with someone else" he says when he's close enough. "Pedro, i guess"

When he mentions his name, your body trembles and you quickly deny but his smile comes back to tease you. He's his friend and he's probably seen how you usually look at him or talk to him, maybe you're too obvious when it comes to Pedri.

"So you like Pedri, eh?" he whispers with a mocking tone.

"N-no" you stutter in denial but you doubt if it's because of the question or because of his closeness.

You begin to miss your breath and you feel suffocated by his gaze and body. When you try to move away you are cornered by his body, pressed between him and the wall. He's so close that you can smell his perfume and you feel like you're about to deteriorate, it's so cloying and strong that you suddenly feel dizzy.

"Of course you do" he laughs with a grimace. "Sweet good Y/N wanted a challenge with innocent Pedri" he teases and your teeth squeak inside your mouth.

Now you are the one facing towards him, you are furious and will show no weakness for him. Still, you can feel how your mouth is dry and you swallow saliva to wet it, giving you courage to face him.

"Any of them would have been fine" you say blanching your eyes.

"Why not with me, then?" he asks again and takes a step towards you.

He's so close to you that if you breathe, he'll notice you're nervous, so you confirm your breathing as he feels his heat radiating off your body.

"Because you're an idiot" you say hard and sure.

You can't escape and you can how all his muscles tense at your words. You're being so strong right now that you're surprised by the way you're dealing with him. But you can't help but think about him... in kissing him... or touching him.

Suddenly all your standards are down and you feel self-conscious in front of him. Your breathing is ragged, if you make one false move you could end up brushing against his lips, so you freeze.

"Do you think being a good innocent girl will make Pedri notice you?" he asks harshly and your eyes tremble under his gaze.

Being taller than you, you can see his face reflect back at you and the urge to kiss him comes to the forefront of your mind. Drinking tonight has probably had side effects on you because now you can't help but feel the urge to kiss an idiot. You swallow saliva as his eyes dart to your lips, he watches them, licking his lips a little and your heart races as you watch him from there.

Damn, you feel yourself getting turned on by that image. You can't help it.

Even if it's hard for you to assimilate, you want to kiss him. So hard. Maybe your friends spiked your drink or you're under some kind of spell, because you don't understand the anxiety you feel waiting for him to touch you. His body is so close to yours but there's no context whatsoever and that makes you crave something you've never felt before. And you're so hot right now that anyone could notice it.

For a few seconds, no one does anything. It's as if you're both surprised by the reactions of your bodies, Gavi just stares at you indiscriminately as if he wants to eat you and you feel like you're on fire inside.

Your back is between a rock and a hard place, you won't get out of this place alive tonight and that's very clear to you. However, you are dying to know what it would feel like to kiss his lips, to have his hands around your body, to have his tongue taste you.

You can't breathe, for an instant everything goes into slow motion. His hands encircle your face and he pulls you to him, bringing your lips together in an explosive impact. It's a hard, rough, desperate kiss. You refuse to touch him because otherwise you won't be able to let go later but when his hands melt into your body, pulling you to him, you are forced to grab him by the shoulders. Suddenly your body craves him and you can't stop kissing him.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

His touch moves over your body, caressing your hips, your ass, your back, taking you from every corner he can to hold you. Yours squeeze his shoulders and back, feeling the hardness of his worked muscles. Your lungs seek air after a few seconds and when they breathe again, you rejoin your mouth to his.

You can feel his laughter between his kisses but you don't care, it's sweet and bitter at the same time, it's like a drug you can't get enough of. You want to kiss him, you want him to kiss you, you want to touch him. Why does he have this effect on you? Why are you so hot to feel him?

Right now you're not finding the challenge your friends set for you a bad idea. In fact, you kind of appreciate it.

You don't understand. How can someone so obnoxious and idiotic attract you so much that you can't stop touching him? How can someone like Pablo Gavi attract you so much that you lose your mind?

His kisses are fiery, hot and unforgettable, you're sure it won't be easy to forget this moment. The moment when you lost your mind and got carried away by a stupid game. But you don't want to stop.

One of his hands goes to the edge of your jeans, undoing the button and when you gasp at the touch of his fingers on your skin, Gavi kills your lip hard. He doesn't need to ask, he doesn't need your permission, he doesn't need your words. He knows he can do whatever he wants to you, you are under his spell. You don't worry about pushing him away, in fact, you crave his touch and he knows it all too well, as your gasps are proof of it. The heat in your legs begins to rise as his fingers slip through your pants and you moan as you feel his caresses.

His lips loosen for the first time in a while and his gaze watches you with that oafish grin. You don't recognize yourself at this moment, it's as if someone else has taken control of your body. He is playing torturously with you, stroking you over your panties, waiting for you to beg.

"Pablo..." you ask as his fingers continue to play with you.

You shake your head as you hear yourself and think of all the times you said you would never beg a man.

"Pablo, what?" he says clicking his tongue, his other hand running up your belly.

Damn. You don't want to beg but you're so horny that if he doesn't touch you, you'll die.

"Touch me" you whisper against his mouth.

You lost your dignity when you turned that bottle tonight, you didn't care about anything anymore. When you got out of here no one would believe you if you said they didn't do anything, so why not really do it? At the end of the day you had wanted to play. No one would remember anything tomorrow, hopefully not even you.

"What would Pedro say if he found out that innocent Y/N was begging to be touched?" he teases but you can't complain because you're too busy feeling his fingers caress your wetness torturously.

You can feel his cool touch take place inside your panties, sliding them to the side to grope your area. Your back arches as his fingers slide through your heat, caressing you gently. You had never been as wet with someone as you were right now and it embarrassed you. You couldn't bear for him to be the one to get you this way with just a kiss.

Your mouth opens in a plea as you beg him to soothe your pain. You are hopelessly under his control. You've just dug your own grave.

"Gavi..." you moan his name pleadingly.

The last thing you see of him is a wicked smile before you close your eyes as his fingers sink into your center and your legs tremble with pleasure. You hide a scream from deep in your throat as the image of his face repeats in your head. A surge of heat raptures against you as his fingers draw motions over your pussy, making you gasp desperately.

It feels so fucking good.

You're so full that when he starts moving his fingers you can't help but moan in bliss, in relief. You can feel them deep inside you, curving his fingers to reach your spot, as he strokes without stopping, you can feel your hard nipples rubbing against the fabric of your bra. Surely even Gavi can feel them. You're a mess but you don't care at all. You're in heaven.

Literally in heaven.

"Do you think Pedro could make you feel like this?" he asks as his forehead is pressed against yours.

Your skin crawls when you remember that behind the wall are all your friends. Even Pedri. Shit. The game. You don't even care about the time now.

You deny a little but you can't think. Not with his fingers inside you.

"No one can touch you like this, do you understand?" he says adding a finger and you cry out as you feel your walls open up for him.

Your hands hold the back of his neck, clinging tightly to him as his fingers continue to masturbate you vehemently. You've never felt this way with anyone else before, it's as if Gavi knows exactly how to touch you, where to touch you.

"P-pablo" you moan trembling. "Shit, yes, there" you beg pleadingly.

Every fiber of your body is on fire, you can feel how pleasure invades and envelops you, you die of shame but you can't stop screaming and moaning his name while his fingers continue to work wonders inside you.

You don't know how long it's been since you entered this room but you really wish it would never end. You don't want to stop kissing him, you don't want to stop touching him. If it were up to you, you'd stay in here with him for the rest of your life.

"Do you want to come, pretty girl?" he asks huskily against your mouth. You nod barely feeling the pleasure building in your belly.

"Is that what you want, you want me to touch you until you cum in my hands?" he says again and your fingers anchor in his hair, tugging at it.

"Yes, goddamn it!" you cry out in desperation.

His fingers begin to penetrate you harder, hitting right into your sweet spot, the panting becomes relentless, your throat aches and your body trembles. Your vision blurs, every fiber of your body screams with anxiety to reach orgasm. You look him straight in the eyes before you feel the pleasure take hold of you, he is glued in your gaze, his eyes are pure fire. Suddenly you feel the need to have him again.

You pull him to you, seeking his lips as you feel the heat explode in your legs. You kiss him hard to silence your cries as your being fills with pleasure feeling the spasms in your body, you are dazed, lost in the sensation. His mouth is like a magnet to yours, his touch is like fuel to your body.

You are so shocked by your recent orgasm that you can't remember where you are or what exactly you were doing in this place. It was as if everything around you disappeared and you were transported to another place. You've lost your mind. You lost your dignity and your purity.

Right now you are hating your friend so much. But you hate yourself more for letting him touch you. You're hating so much that he's the one who just gave you the best orgasm of your life.

And you knew that nothing was going to be like before after this.

Gavi wasn't going to let this go so easily and you had just given him the reason to drive you crazy.

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x DC AU: Danny didn't want to rely on his rogues, but Tucker's computer skills only got them so far and if the media black out continues... Danny knows it's not going to be pretty for them. Nightmares begin to plague the Justice League.

---

Danny gets back from a shitty conversation with Clockwork and in his frustration, accidentally sets off one of the new GIW sensors that his parents allowed to be installed in the lab. Their collaboration seemed to be going no where but when Danny had new holes blasted through him... it must be going somewhere. Damn it.

The commotion is loud enough that Jazz hears it from her room above the lab (he knows she listens to more than just the lab... it's cause she cares, even if it is a bit invasive.) and rushes in to play the distraction while Danny gets away. This time it works- the Drs. Fenton might have the worst aim in the city but they demand all shots cease if a civilian is nearby- Next time his mom might be aiming her gun at him and not the ground. Danny decides he'll buy Jazz a coffee on his way home.

But first, new holes. Yikes. That like, needs medical attention- He heads to Tucker's place and he's pretty sure Sam is already there.

"Danny! What the fuck, did Clockwork-" She starts, her meticulous cat eyeliner making her glare all the deeper.

"Nah, it's the stupid GIW sensor, the stupid one I told you guys about that has a spring lose in the back?"

"I thought we decided those weren't a concern?" Tucker looks him over, face covered in undisguised and very blatant concern.

"Yeah well, Clocky pissed me off so I forgot about them when I came back in through the lab portal-"

"you were supposed to be practicing making your own." Sam interrupts.

"-And when I did, the thing got knocked and I was swatted like immediately. Jazz launched herself into the lab so Mom made them stop shooting and it gave me enough time to get out." Danny continued to explain, ignoring his friend's 'i told you so' faces.

"Dude. We're pushing it close this week. Sam already had a confrontation with the lab guys and I already got blacklisted on my new persona accounts. We're like seriously threading the needle for getting caught." Tucker, pulls his glasses down to pinch the bridge of his nose and Danny and Sam both get what he's really saying. They need to lie low.

"What did CW say to piss you off?" Sam asks after a silent moment.

"He said nothing really, just like he always does, but insinuated I should try getting a rogue to help." Danny sighs.

"What, Like getting Ember to announce the GIW invasion on her tour? We already agreed that-" Sam is getting angry as she speaks so Tuck cuts her off- "It's a bad Idea. She is- They are all just as likely to get captured and hurt as you are if you go out of town." He comes to the same conclusion they've agreed on for weeks. No rogue involvement.

"Maybe we just need to sleep on it... Hey... wait." Danny sighs, but then his gears start to turn.

"Nocturn. We need Nocturn to help us. He can get the message out through dreams." Danny comes to the new conclusion and his friends look hesitant but at least like they're considering it.

"Isn't he an ancient? He's not going to help us for free." Tucker, ever the Egyptian god in these moments.

"Most people don't take their dreams literally." Sam, ever the skeptic in these moments.

"Yeah but, if they dream it enough times, and they're the right people to do something... they can look it up and then at least see that there is a problem?" Danny sounds hopeful and its the first time he's sounded that way in months.

"What, you're gunna give Batman nightmares?" Tucker snickers but Sam looks inspired.

"That's exactly what he's going to do. We need to haunt the Justice League. They'll see past the fake facade the GIW put up online and they'll be able to get the right legislation passed." Sam is practically buzzing.

"Okay, so lets get scheming- What do you get the primordial beast of the unconscious? Should I google 'what to get someone who has everything'? " Danny laughs.

_____

Bruce and his children rarely do feelings when they have breakfast in the morning after a night of separate patrols, but it seems as though the room is plagued with unease. Tim looks about as tired as ever, so his unease is probably attributable to WE board meetings, but its unlike the rest of his children to be so... disturbed. For some reason, after Alfred has excused them all from eating more than a few nibbles, they make it to the cave. Bruce is glad for the noise his children bring.

The nightmare's he's been having are following a dark plot. A town, a boy who looks like he was kin, and so, so much death. Bruce has had vivid dreams before in life, but this nightmare is... unreal. He tries to remind himself that it's just a nightmare.

When his JL emergency communicator goes off at the computer desk, he's not expecting it to be Dinah Lance. She and her Birds are typically wary of him in Gotham, even if they work well together in the League. He answers it like he would any Batman call, with silence.

"Bats, we have a problem. Any chance you've been having weird dreams about a kid getting experimented on or a town being burned down? Ghosts? Lazarus portals?" Dinah sounds exhausted, but Bruce snaps to her voice with rapt attention. As do all of his children.

"I-" Bruce takes a look around the room, everyone's heads except for Tim's nodding up and down with distress," We all have."

"Something tells me that they whole JL is. Everyone I've talked to this week has had a variation of the same dream. We either have a telepath trying to tell us something, or something even worse than that."

"I'll call emergency meeting, we need to collect details and try to determine the complete message."

"I'll send you what I've noted down so far, sans personal details of course, it's definitely in a town called Amity Park though. My client this morning saw the sign."

Batman grunts and the call ends. It's time to get to work.

----

When the Justice League finally arrives, the town is glowing, and everything feels like... sleep. smothering. snoring. smoking. smoldering.

And then, despite the exhaustion that echos within them, the trudge onwards. The noise of laser guns certainly wakes them up a bit.

[prettygiri222]

Summary: you're a succubus looking for a new victim, unaware you've become one

Any character really x Black Fem Reader SMUT

as a succubus, you loved going for the frat boys. they were always so eager to get a pretty girl like you in bed promising you a good time. but you quickly turned into their worst nightmare, ripping orgasm after orgasm from their already spent cocks. 

"o-oh fuck! nomorenomore it hurts!" they would cry out. they would be spazzing out and twitching underneath you, arms struggling to get a good grip on your waist as you continuously rolled your hips against them. the friction against your clit was enough to draw your second orgasm of the night. but not enough to make you lose your mind. their heads would fall back into their flat pillows as you milked yet another orgasm out of them. 

“awh” you cooed at them mockingly. “is my baby boy too tired?” they would frantically nod, praying for you to get off them as if they weren’t the ones who begged you to get into their beds in the first place. they had come so much it physically hurt.

the intricately designed heart-shaped tattoo that covered your womb shimmered a dull pink as you absorbed their essence. it was your symbol as a succubus and kept track of your hunger. frat boys never kept you full for long, they were only enough to hold you off for a few days.

eventually, you moved on to the jocks. you had guys ranging from the football team to the basketball team to the soccer team. they had stamina, keeping you full for a few more days but something was still missing.

"you like that, huh?" they asked, slapping your ass. they loved doggy, watching the way your ass jiggled and the lack of intimacy. you could care less, always shoving your face into the pillows to hide your displeasure. 

their thrusts would get sloppy after their first orgasm and they often neglected your pleasure chasing their own release. but they did satiate your hunger a bit longer. your symbol glowing brighter.

due to your bias, you failed to notice the lust-filled eyes that watched your every move. he was just a regular guy, or that’s what you thought of him at first glance. he easily blended into the school’s crowds with his oversized sweaters and baggy jeans that didn’t do his sculpted body justice.

but he was infatuated with you the moment he laid eyes on your beautiful form. he loved how you always wore such slutty outfits. your short skirts that were the size of a belt. how he easily caught glimpses of the lacey panties and thongs you wore. the way your tongue piercing made an appearance when you licked your plump lips always coated in a sparkly gloss. and he loved that no matter how thick your shirts were your nipple piercing would always poke through.

but he was obsessed with the tramp stamp you had on full display. it was a deviated heart tattoo with devil wings and black ink that stood out boldly against your brown skin. the design intrigued him and with a quick google search he found out why. apparently, it was a succubus tattoo. you were a succubus. a demon obsessed with sex it drained men for their essence. 

he couldn’t lie, the idea of you being such a sinful creature was a fantasy he couldn’t get out of his head. he spent days jerking off to the thought of you appearing in his room just so you could drain him. just the thought of you was enough to have blood pooling to the head of dick, it left him nauseous. 

but he could never approach you. not when the faintest whiff of your sweet perfume made him pop boners like he was a sixth grader with a crush on his history teacher. you were like a walking aphrodisiac. he felt the room grow hotter anytime you entered, his pale skin flushing easily. it was honestly a shame how you didn’t notice this bundle of desire.

~

“oh fuck me” you grumbled in the back of the lecture. you opened your phone to a message from the 6’4 basketball player you were planning on linking later saying he had a late practice. you would’ve urged him to skip practice like you did last week but his coach was getting on his ass about missed practices. he said if he missed anymore he was going to be pulled from the starting lineup.

this was the problem with fucking athletes, you had to work around their schedules. you rolled your eyes at the message leaving it on seen. it’s been a week since you last had sex and you were starving. the only reason you held out this long was because this guy was one of your favourites. he didn’t eat pussy but he always made sure to have you creaming on his dick.

you let out a deep sigh. you were in trouble and you could feel it. despite not currently being aroused you felt yourself dampening the denim material of your skirt. the thick cotton of your turtle neck couldn’t hide your hardened nipples. 

as a succubus, you gain energy from sexual intercourse with men. but if you aren’t careful you could kill somebody by draining their energy completely. you feed off of their pleasure so it’s fine to neglect your own but where’s the fun in that?

when you starve you begin to give in to your sinful nature. you become the monster in folklore, the sex-hungry demon that feeds off of any and every man they come across. who fuck them to death, literally. but you didn’t want to become that monster. you enjoyed living among humans so you developed a consistent feeding system to avoid giving in to your monster.

you crossed your legs under your desk hoping to relieve yourself. regardless of being a succubus you had standards, you didn’t just fuck any and everyone. the professor was drawing on and on about an essay at the end of the week but it was the least of your worries. 

you briefly looked over the people in the class. there was no one in the class that stood out to you. you had attempted to hook up with a guy that sat next to you at the beginning of the year and it was the worst you’ve ever experienced. the guy was cute but he was a virgin. he didn’t know what to do and tried to insert his dick into your ass with no prep. that was the first and last time you went for someone who didn’t ooze sex appeal.

you were about to return your eyes to the professor when you locked eyes with him. your eyes widened in surprise at the intensity of his gaze. he was sitting a few rows behind you placing him in your blind spot. his eyes were dilated in an emotion you knew all too well, lust. 

he was completely out of it, he didn’t even notice that you locked eyes with him. you could feel yourself grow hotter at the attention. he was basically eye-fucking you, undressing you right there in the middle of a lecture. probably having his way with you on top of the desks in front of everyone in his daydream. a smile graced your lips, you had found your victim.

the second the lecture ended you threw your tote bag over your shoulder and made your way over to him, swaying your hips. he was focused on packing up his laptop but you saw him stiffen up the moment you got close. he shot a quick glance in your direction before standing pin-straight.

“excuse me” you softly called out from beside him. he looked around before pointing to himself. “yes you” you let a little giggle at his bashfulness. was he really the guy who had you flustered just a few minutes ago?

“oh uhm, hey” his voice squeaked when you pressed yourself against his arm. a blush rose to his cheek as he avoided direct eye contact with you. his eyes focusing on random students who were making their way out of the lecture.

“could you help me with something?” you asked in that perfected singsong tone yours. looking up at him innocently from beneath your lashes you pressed your soft tits against his chest. his adam apple bobbed as he quickly looked you up and down, eyes briefly stopping when he noticed your visible nipple piercings.

afraid his voice would betray him again he frantically nodded. you had him right where you wanted him. you shot him a dimpled smile before leading him out of the lecture hall and towards your dorm. he sucked in a sharp breath when you walked up the stairs in front of him. every step you top hiked up your already short skirt. you weren’t wearing anything underneath so your bald lips were on display.

you lived in a one-room dorm on campus but you never brought your victims over. you preferred to go over to their dorm but this was a dire situation. you needed to be fed. you hurriedly shoved him onto your bed.

“are you sure about this?” he whispered breathlessly. you had him sitting on the edge of your bed with his jeans pooled around his ankles and you were sitting on your knees in front of him.

"uhm" you mumbled half-heartedly. you were focused on stroking his dick. it was on the thinner side but it was pretty long. there was a vein on the underside that you traced while licking his tip.

“oh fuck” he let out a little whimper when you licked him all the way from the base to the tip before taking all of him into your mouth. he gripped your soft silk sheets in his sweaty palms trying to stop himself from bucking into your mouth.  you were grinding against your foot desperate for some stimulation.

the sensation of your tongue piercing on his shaft contrasting against your warm wet tongue almost made him cum. you traced his tip with the ball of your piercing, delighted with the way he shivered. “shit, it’s cold.” he whined.

you bobbed your head looking up at him feeling your wetness pool in between your legs. he was staring at you in awe as you slobbered all over him. your saliva running down his shaft and pooling at his base. your sparkly gloss was smudged all over your cheek.

you alternated between bobbing your head and licking his tip while you massaged his shaft with your hand. letting out an occasional hum when the tip of his dick reached the back of your throat. when you felt his legs tense up you knew he was close. 

“you’re like a fucking pro” he stretched out his hands and tangled his fingers in your mini twists. he pulled your hair back into a ponytail so he could get a better lock at you. “i knew your pretty ass was a -fuck- a slut”

you let out a whimper around his dick answering him. your pussy fluttering at his backhanded compliment. while you didn’t have a gag reflex the repeated action of his tip hitting the back of your throat caused you to tear up. your big lips were even plumper as they swole around his dick. he was getting harder just looking at your messed-up state.

he wasn’t ashamed to let out louder moans, letting you know it wouldn’t be long until he came. you stuck your tongue out while stroking his dick, his hot cum landing on it. his face was flushed with pink and his light eyes dilated as he watched you swallow his cum. you opened your mouth to show him proof, your pink tongue empty. “fuck, you’re so hot”

you felt your womb gleam with contentment but it wasn't enough. he was panting hard as you pushed him back on your baby pink sheets. you lifted your shirt off overhead, his eyes widened with the glimpse of your tattoo but you ignored his reaction, most guys just thought it was an obscene tattoo.

you stripped off your short skirt with haste, you wanted more. you hopped on the bed and straddled him. you balanced on your toes while you rubbed his dick between your lips coating it in your slick. you heard him suck in a breath at the sight of your glistening cunt.

"oh shit," you hissed out as you lowered yourself onto his dick. he closed his eyes, overwhelmed by your warmth. you pulled up his shirt revealing his broad chest. he let out a soft moan as you placed your cool hands on his pecs, steadying yourself.

"you're so cute," you cooed. you grinded against him forcing out his little sobs while stimulating your clit. you loved the way he easily blushed, the way his pale skin turned pink. 

"you're so good to me" he whined out, grabbing at the fleshy part of your hips. he was rolling his hips against yours desperate for more friction.

"yea?" you asked, wanting to hear more of his whiny voice. you lifted yourself up, removing everything but the tip of his dick before slamming back down. 

"yesyesyes" he was bucking up against you frantically, nailing you where you needed it the most. "always saw your pretty ass b-but -ohhh shit- could never talk to you." you angled yourself so he could continuously pound your spongy spots, too caught up to acknowledge his confession. it wasn’t long until he painted your insides white, your pussy clenching in satisfaction. 

you were a sight to see right now. he believed the sites when they said succubus had otherworldly beauty. if he thought you were pretty before you were utterly gorgeous right now. your brown skin was glowing in the dim lights and the way you bounced on his was magical. your tits jumped with every thrust, your eyes were glossed over and your pupils seemed to be heart-shaped. something he hadn’t noticed before.

but your tattoo was glowing. that had to be a telltale sign that you were a succubus. besides the mind-numbing pleasure you were putting him through. he was twitching from overstimulation and you were still bouncing on his dick. your pussy making delicious squelching noises as you bounced on him. 

“you’re so tight” he whined out. your tight hole was squeezing around him and it was so warm and wet. he was surprised he hadn’t slipped out yet. but you knew what you were doing, the way you skillfully rolled your hips providing pleasure to the both of you. you were quickly drawing him to another orgasm.

you bite your swollen lips as you focus on the growing sensation in your lower abdomen. you could tell he was close when you felt him twitch underneath you. “mhm, you close baby?” you called out to him. he nodded, way too lost in pleasure to find his voice as you drew him to another orgasm with you following close behind. your hips stuttered as a wave of pleasure washed over your whole body.

you rode him through both of your orgasms. a puddle of wetness and cum formed around the base of his shaft as proof. his eyes were closed and he breathed heavily, his chest heaving up and down. he looked a mess, there was drool around his mouth, his straight hair touselled and damp with sweat, his skin flushed a deep shade of pink and a thin layer of sweat shined on his face.

you had to forcefully stop yourself from bouncing on him further. you had to leave him with some energy to get home. you looked down at your tattoo watching as it glowed a dim pink while you absorbed his essence. you would be content for a day or two hopefully enough to give you a chance to hook up with your favorite basketball player. but you were far from satisfied.

you let out a deep sigh as you slowly rose off of him. he let out a whimper at the loss of your heat. you hopped off the bed looking for a towel while he remained lying down. 

“you can leave whenever you want,” you said nonchalantly. this is why you hated one-night stands at your dorm, it would get so awkward. you preferred fucking guys at their own dorm so you could disappear while they slept. but you were desperate.

you heard shuffling noises and assumed he was getting ready to go. but it got quiet and you felt a gaze burning against your naked form. you ignored him, continuing to gather items for your shower.

"i'm not done with you" a deep voice called from behind you. your eyes opened in shock as you looked back. he was standing right behind you, towering over you frighteningly. there was a dark look in his eyes as started you down.

“excuse me…” your mouth dried up when you looked down between you two. he was completely naked now and his dick was standing at attention, it was hard and it somehow seemed bigger than before. it was an angry red as pre-cum leak from the tip. you felt yourself grow wetter from his confrontation.

"i've been watching you for a while but you never looked my way. always batting those eyelashes of yours at those stupid frat boys and jocks, huh." he grabbed your jaw forcing you to look up at him. his jaw was clenched tight and he glared down at you. "bet you don't even know my name and we’ve been in the same class for almost a year now." his voice was hoarse as he looked into your eyes.

you meekly nodded. as a succubus who fed off of sexual energy you had to be ashamed for never noticing someone who was soaking in it. his light-coloured eyes were filled with so much emotion that it made your heart swell. a feeling you’ve never experienced with your sexual partners.

“don’t worry though, i’ll take good care of your slutty succubus pussy.” you froze in shock. “make sure you’re well fed.” 

Part 2 right here

Characters I had in mind while writing this:

ARMIN, Eren, Zeke, Jean, Geto, Choso, Megumi, anyone you want really

[viasdreams]

Nightwalker ཐི❤︎ཋྀ ~ plz shoot me and not with that gun

"what are you supposed to be?" jeno asked, settling into the back seat of jisung's car.

"gonna be so real, i just put on the sluttiest thing i could find."

renjun turned around in the passenger seat, looking your body up and down. "this is a costume party, you remember that right? what if they don't let you in?"

"it's still a jackson wang party, they'll let any girl with a pulse in. if they ask who i am, ill just say im a father's worst nightmare." you shrugged.

"jisung why are you blue?" jeno reached over the seat to stroke the driver's cheek.

"HEY!" jisung swatted his hand away. "don't fuck up my makeup."

"oh my bad man" jeno awkwardly sat back in his seat.

"don't worry about him, he's just nervous about meeting his boo thang. isn't that right ji?" you smirked at him in the rearview mirror.

"fuck yes im nervous" he drew out the 's', squeezing his eye shut.

"JISUNG EYES ON THE ROAD! OH MY GOD!" Renjun lurched for the wheel, swerving away from the trashcan lined up on the side of the street.

"if we crash right now, you'll never get to meet him ji," you reminded.

"shit you're right," jisung sat up straight, placing his blue hands at ten and two. "no one talk for the rest of the drive, papa needs to focus."

"you're not dressed as papa smurf though."

"JENO NO TALKING!"

you managed to get into the party with ease, jisung actually being the one questioned by security.

"are you like an ugly avatar?"

"no im a smurf," jisung anxiously bounced on his toes, looking through the door. "look im in costume, can i just go inside?"

"fine whatever." before the guard even motioned for him to go, jisung had already rushed inside, practically slamming into your back.

"ok now where is my beautiful man at?" jisung's eyes darted over the crowd, the backlights making his blue skin glow.

"here we can split up, ill go upstairs, you look down here. ill call you if i find him" the only reason you were at this party was so jisung could meet chenle, so you might as well help unite them.

"ok yeah, but if you find him, please don't make out with him. i know it'll be hard to resist his charm," jisung firmly grabbed both of your arms and gazed intensely into your eyes, "but please don't."

"don't worry ji, i would never do that to you." you pried his hands away and made your way to the stairs.

your search for the elusive brainy smurf was unsuccessful, and you were about to text jisung when you got a message yourself.

all thoughts of jisung and chenle left your mind as you swiftly made your way to jaemin.

before opening the door, you paused, preparing yourself to potentially lose the next day of your life due to the sheer power of jaemin's dick.

putting your hand on the knob, you felt a cold hand under yours.

"oh im sor- hyuck?"

an extremely awe-stricken donghyuck stood in front of you.

"yn? um you look..." his eyes traced over your barely covered body, "...cold."

you giggled, wrapping your arms around your torso.

"yeah a bit." you took a second to look at his costume, "looks like your prayers of becoming a vampire were answered."

"what? i am not a vampire." he forced a laugh and violently shook his head. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"uh, then what are you dressed as?"

"oh right! i am dressed as a vampire, yep. not an actual vampire though because those don't exist. and even if they did, i would not be one."

"yeah..." a silence fell between the two of you. "um anyways, are you going in here too?" you pointed at his hand still holding the door knob.

"oh yeah, im meeting jaemin in there."

"really?" he nodded, "so am i. he texted me to meet him here."

"wait why would jaemin ask you to meet him?"

you tried to respond but before you could the bedroom door swung open, a wide-eyed jaemin emerging.

"hey guys come in, come in." jaemin stepped aside, urging the two of you to enter.

"jaemin why did you call yn here?" donghyuck asked.

"ill get to that in a second, real quick," jaemin grabbed your hand and stared into your eyes, "yn can you help me?"

his hand was just as cold, if not colder than donghyuck's. they were both much colder than you, which was weird considering you're the one wearing next to nothing.

"yeah of course, what do you need?"

"for you to go to sleep."

donghyuck watched as your body fell limp, jaemin quickly catching you and moving your body to the bed.

"jaem what the hell is going on?"

"great save with that whole 'im not a vampire' thing just now." jaemin's tone was thick with sarcasm.

"oh you heard that?" donghyuck said, rubbing the back of his head.

"of course i heard it, we have heightened hearing remember."

"oh i forgot," donghyuck's gaze made it's way back to your sleeping body, "wait stop distracting me, what's happening? why is yn here and not her clone?"

now jaemin was the one rubbing the back of his head. "right yeah um there never was a clone."

"what?"

"ok before you freak out, just let me explain. i saw that you were having a hard time being around yn and all that stuff. and that's why you came to me for real blood."

"jaemin i know all of that, what do you mean there's no clone." donghyuck's voice was getting louder with each word.

jaemin took in a big breath, closing his eyes, "yn is the person i've been getting blood from." he opened one eye to gauge donghyuck's reaction.

"are you KIDDING ME JAEMIN?" donghyuck roared.

he wouldn't admit it, but the look on donghyuck's face truly scared jaemin.

"hyuck you said you wouldn't get mad. you swore on mark's life!"

"FUCK MARK!" donghyuck stepped forward, causing jaemin to step back, hitting the wall.

"is that why she was sick last week? you took too much of her blood?" he questioned through bared teeth.

"yes but you also took too much of her blood, so why is it such a big deal?"

"we both know that was different. i was a desperate fledgling, i didn't know what i was doing. you know damn well what you were doing."

"i was just trying to help you man. you didn't like the other blood i gave you, so i cut out the middle man and went straight to the source." he turned to look at you.

donghyuck grabbed his jaw, turning his face so it was looking directly at him, "don't look at her. you don't get to look at her after what you did."

jaemin's hand shot up to donghyuck's wrist, gripping it almost tight enough to break it.

"hyuck i know you think you're the shit, but don't forget i have 400 years of experience on you. this is not a battle you want to fight."

donghyuck let go of his jaw, bringing his hands to rub his eyes.

"she has lost so much blood recently, why did you think this was a good idea." the anger in his voice was replaced with hurt, confusion, and frustration.

jaemin shrugged, moving to sit next to you on the bed.

"i didn't like seeing you struggle, and you asked for help, so i helped."

"look i appreciate the thought, i really do," jaemin smiled, "but im also insanely pissed at you right now." jaemin's smile fell.

"im sorry. do you know what would make you feel better?" jaemin gently traced your collarbone.

"what dude?" donghyuck lowered his hands, following jaemin's voice. instead of seeing a remorseful vampire, looking apologetically at him, he saw jaemin sink his fangs into the soft flesh of your neck.

"JAEMIN!"

donghyuck rushed to pull him away from you, shoving jaemin to the ground with enough force to shake the entire house.

"i know you want some, don't lie. despite what mark says-"

he was interrupted by donghyuck's fist as it slammed into his nose.

they both gawked at each other, stunned at what just happened.

jaemin is the first to recover, flipping donghyuck onto his back and straddling his legs. with one hand, jaemin holds donghyuck's wrists over his head, grabbing his neck with the other.

"despite what mark say's, we're beings of violence. if we weren't supposed to drink a human's blood, why does it feel so good to sink our fangs into their necks?"

donghyuck writhed under jaemin's hold, struggling to free himself.

"answer me hyuck, you told me it was borderline orgasmic to drink yn's blood for the first time. why would it feel so good if it was bad?" the look on jaemin's face was undiscernible, a mix between pain and hunger.

"shut up." donghyuck spit back.

"you know im right, go try some right now and tell me you don't love it. tell me you don't feel powerful."

the door slammed open and an extremely concerned mark walked in.

"what the hell is going on, i could hear you guys fighting from downstairs." mark looked at the two boys on the ground, following their gaze to your body lying on the bed, dried blood dotting your neck.

previous ~ masterlist ~ next

a/n: this ended up being much longer than i intended...anyways ive being thinking about this chapter for weeks and its crazy to actually write it 🤯

taglist (open): @miyawwn @nanaxwi @mystverse @mmoonlee @chenlesfavorite @dudekiss3r @honeynanamin @nctjunie @nneteyamss @iamsimplyasimp @roseangelxfuma @haechsworld @hyuck-me @catpjimin @toyoongg @sthwaaberry @kim-seungmins-gf @sunghoonsgfreal @sunflowerhae @galacticnct @slayhaechan @multifandomania @jasluvsjae @injunnie-lemon @swanyvess @hahaechans @aerivrs @kirbrary @akunoeyebrows @thegracerammy @nessaassen02 @snowyseungs

[eternalguk]

Losers || jjk. (M)

I get lonely when you're not here, and this darkness appears, leaving me stranded.

↠ Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x Female Reader

↠ Summary : Jeon Jeongguk. Your brother's best friend, your mom's favourite human, and the man who is saved as, the certified asshole, on your phone. With black hair and piercings, tattoos and skinny jeans… Jeongguk has been your worst nightmare since you were 18. Six years later, getting along with him is still impossible. The only difference? His pastime then was to steal your diary and read it aloud. Now? Well… let’s just say, it’s most definitely not the same.

↠ Genre : pwp, brothers best friend au, age gap au, fuck buddies au (angst, fluff & smut)

↠ Warnings : explicit sexual content, swearing, bickering but they’re actually flirting, teasing (a lot of it), making out, grinding, dirty talk, degradation, breast play, unprotected sex (be safe), kinda dom!jungkook, power bottom!jungkook, riding, begging, creampie, mentions of oral sex, mentions of one-sided feelings and i think that’s all.

↠ Word count : 1.6k

↠ A/n : hello <3 here’s a little something that i put together when I was bored! I hope you enjoy brothers best friend!Jungkook as much as I did whilst writing. Your feedback will be appreciated 🤍. Happy reading 🦢

↠ Song : meddle about - Chase Atlantic.

You’re full. So damn full.

Jungkook’s thick and imposing cock is nestled inside you, the delicious stretch causing both of you to unleash the most desperate sounds.

“Ride me,” Jungkook’s voice is husky, and very evidently quivering with lust and need.

You gulp, licking your swollen lips before lifting yourself up and lowering yourself inch by inch, until he’s all the way inside again. The pressure between your legs is unbearable, body craving relief.

“Fuck,” Jungkook grunts, his fingers boring into your hips. “So greedy for my dick.”

And the taunting is back…

You roll your eyes, lifting yourself up again and slamming down so hard that you both groan. “And who was begging me to ride their dick?”

Jungkook whispers a string of curses, before thrusting himself upwards. “A-and who… who was begging me to have sex with them in the first place?”

You.

The answer was you, and you couldn’t even try to defend yourself.

Your brother had finally left the house, and in other words, you and Jungkook were finally able to fuck.

So here you were, in the living room, relentlessly riding your brother’s best friend.

Now, you weren’t that bad. Yes, you had made the first move, but Jungkook was no innocent bystander. Your thoughts linger back to where the shenanigans began.

“Hey princess,” Jungkook smirks as he saunters into the living room, interrupting your peaceful evening. “Missed me?”

You roll your eyes, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at the sight of him. “Not even a little bit, asshole.”

“Stop lying,” he sings as he reaches over to take a chocolate covered strawberry from your plate. “I know you did.”

You remain silent, hoping he gets the cue and leaves. You don’t forget to mentally curse your brother for leaving you with this man-child.

Jungkook chuckles and you already sense a foolish comment about to leave his lips. “I know you love me, Y/N.”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “In your dreams, Jungkook. Your dick? Maybe. You? Never.”

He moves to take a seat on the couch adjacent to you, his gaze lingering a little too long. “You look cute when you're angry.”

You flush, hating how easily he gets under your skin. “Shut up, let me read.”

But instead of retorting, Jungkook leans closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Make me.”

You swallow hard, feeling a rush of heat between your thighs. "You wish."

His lips quirk into a smirk as he leans back, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Maybe I do.”

You grit your teeth, resisting the urge to kiss him. Why did he have to be so damn infuriatingly attractive?

As the evening wears on, your banter escalated into a full-blown war of words, each insult laced with underlying tension. But beneath the surface, there's something else brewing—a desire that neither of you wants to acknowledge.

The three previous altercations between you and Jungkook had led to sex… there’s no way you were going to let that happen again.

“I’ll just go keep myself busy with Areum. You know your really pretty friend? She’s been begging me to come over.” Jungkook grins mischievously, knowing he's finally pushed you to your limit.

But instead of storming off in a huff like usual, you surprise him by closing the distance between you, lips crashing against his in a heated kiss.

He responds eagerly, his hands tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss, your bodies pressed together in a frenzy of need.

“Fuck, you drive me crazy,” Jungkook murmurs against your lips, his voice husky with desire.

You smirk, trailing my fingers down his chest. “You love it.”

He groans, his grip tightening on you as he whispers, “I’d be a liar if I said no.”

And that was what had brought you to your current state. You begin to ride Jungkook in a fast, unrestrained pace, leaning forward so your clit can brush against his pubic bone, deepening your own pleasure.

“So big, Jungkook.. So deep,” you moan gratifyingly, throwing your head back as you relish in this complete heaven.

Jungkook smirks whilst watching you fuck yourself on his cock, pleasure vividly overtaking you as you roll your eyes with each bounce. “Good girl, ride my cock just like that.”

“J-Jungkook,” you whine faintly, his hands forcing you down completely and making you go faster. His low grunts and growls of your name make you warm up more, adoring the pleasurable sounds he makes. Your eyes meet his and you heat up as he gazes at you with lust stained eyes.

“Feels good?” Jungkook asks, helping you bounce on his dick. He looks extremely sexy right now with swollen lips, tanned skin and messy, tousled hair.

The sound of heavy breathing and the way his cock easily slides in and out of you reminds you just how blissful it is to be intimate with Jungkook. It was a shame you couldn’t call him yours.

“Mhm,” you inform him, slowly riding his dick up and down, your cunt swallowing his thick girth with ease and allowing yourself to be distracted from mellow thoughts. Jungkook thrusts up and you gasp at the sudden action, whining his name louder.

Jungkook scoffs at your reaction, smirking as his hands come to rest at your hips. You notice his lust filled eyes and it urges you to ride him faster.

“Going to miss this pussy when I leave,” Jungkook grunts, his deep, throaty voice making your heart race faster.

You ignore the ache that settles in your heart at the thought of him leaving.

“Mhm.” You respond, too overwhelmed by the feeling of Jungkook’s cock deep inside.

Jungkook’s lips brush over your clavicles whilst his hands slide up and down your back, eventually stopping on your ass, grabbing it to help you ride him. Your hips rock back and forth at a steady speed, relishing in the current moment.

“Ohh fuckk,” you cry out, savouring each drag of his monstrous cock. Your hips continue to rock back and forth and Jungkook simply wishes you both were on a mattress right now so he could pound into you hard and fast. You feel the way he contains himself from thrusting upwards, knowing very well that he’ll lose control.

The mere sight of you in the throes of pleasure, throwing your head back and lustily moaning has Jungkook weak. Your partly lidded eyes, flaming skin and heaving chest tells Jungkook all that he needs to know. You look alluringly beautiful, using Jungkook’s body to catch your release.

“Always ride me so fucking well, baby.” Jungkook rasps, lips moving to wrap around your nipples and sucking on them vigorously. He fondles with the other, neglected breast, pinching at your nipple and your whines only heighten.

“You look so sexy and you’re all mine,” he growls, his hips moving to thrust up against yours. His throaty voice impels you to shiver, dominance and possessiveness lacing it. “No one else can have this.”

“All y-yours, baby,” you croon, your walls tightening and clenching as his low grunts and moans turn you on. “There’s no one who’ll make me feel like this.”

And that’s true. You have no clue if you’ll ever stop craving Jungkook. The idea of him fucking someone else, paired with the idea of someone else fucking you, leave a distaste in your mouth.

“I’m close, Kook,” you whine whilst reaching for his veiny hands to rub against your palpitating clit. Jungkook understands the message, instantly moving his hand to thumb against it. He circles his finger around the bud and you helplessly mewl, aching to come.

You pull on Jungkook’s tresses as your hips begin to stutter in their grinding. “Such a good girl for me, always so good.” He encourages you and that simple sentence is all you need as your pussy clenches and slick cum squirts out of you.

“Just like that, baby girl. Just like that,” Jungkook harshly breathes, painting your insides with his seed. He lifts his hips, fucking into you through your orgasms. You moan loudly before falling against his chest, pressing firm kisses against his sweaty neck.

“I love it when you come inside me,” you purr, sucking deep, purple marks into his skin. Another thing that should not be happening. Looking after a baby, Jungkook’s baby to specify, was not something you imagine yourself doing anytime soon.

A husky moan escapes from Jungkook as he pulls your face towards his, pressing a searing kiss onto your rosy lips. He kisses you with love, purpose and sincerity. The third thing that should not be happening right now.

You shiver at the feeling of his cock being nestled inside your wet, warm walls. Jungkook’s hands move to your ass, gently grinding you against him. You pull back and are met with a sly grin on your temptations face.

Temptation was the word your mind had settled with. Is that what he was?

“Again?” He cockily mutters, moving forward to rub his nose against yours.

“Well, why not?,” is all you whisper back before pressing your lips against his, swallowing his giggles as you push him to lean against his seat, ready to be destroyed all over again.

Jungkook’s fingers are lost in your hair, and his other hand rests against your waist, gently caressing your exposed skin.

You think back to days upon days with him, starting with a simple kiss to now fucking at every chance you get.

You dwell on your feelings for the man in front of you. Who would’ve thought that the Jungkook you passionately hated would be the one who’s on your mind constantly? The one who’s name comes to mind first thing in the morning. The one who’s worth every risk and battle.

Maybe you could tell him, whisper your fondness for him in his ear, but you don’t.

Instead, you snuggle into his warmth, hoping it’ll satiate your aching heart for now.

And there we go. I hope you enjoyed! Feedback and comments are always appreciated ; it really makes me feel better about what I write so please do tell me what you think of this if it is not too much of a hassle <3

Until next time,

🤍