#had to crop out a bunch

[st-hedge]

Dante gotta fucking die 🤗

[edwardshundredyearoldspunk]

the only way to watch tv shows the way they were meant to be watched is through DVDs isn't it? I keep hearing of tv shows that netflix has made major editing/aspect ratio/music changes, once again cementing netflix as my archnemesis. yes I'm pedantic, it's my only talent

[icedille]

he did it all to spare me from the awful things in life that comes

[ittybittybeastiebuddy]

Obligatory winter cleaning has turned into sorting my closet out so I can achieve Gender

[sonknuxadow]

what is my art doing on know your meme HELP ME !!!!!

[enbywitchie]

a crusty old sea captain, abandoned by their crew long ago due to their ever-increasingly reckless decisions, has been out at sea on their own for countless months, searching, but they know not of what... "hark! what be that just ahead? ahh... alas,, is not but another Siren , Witch of the Sea. their numbers be growin' ever stronger, singin out to me , but I will never bend to them." they avert their gaze from the siren and sail on, focused on the darkening horizon.

the ship charging ever on, ever on through clear sky and storm alike,.. they approach another outcropping of land, and they know what to expect. "ah, ahead, there be five Sirens this time..." the captain begins changing course , but as the ship sails past the group of bewitching women, one stands out amongst the others... something is different about her... under their breath, the captain mutters, "by the gods... could it be...?"

one of the women, fully clothed , calls out to the captain, not in song but with a voice full of painful desperation, rising above the others, "please, help me!" the salty captain wheels the ship around, careful to approach steady , they throw a rope ladder over the side of the ship, and pull the woman to safety.

///

a short story i wrote because the endless cycle of report, block, repeat for the porn botties has me going insane and i've never felt such true euphoria over a new follower before

anyway, thanks for climbing aboard @phobossaccountant !

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

n e way. keep your fucking cats indoors

[victoryrifle]

who wants a whole post about some funny af hell let loose usernames

[captainfern]

boyfriend’s best friend simon

(18+ smut, fem!reader, infidelity but your boyfriends a cunt if that makes you feel better)

—•—

you don’t know how this happened. you don’t know when this happened. all you know is that it is happening, and you really don’t want it to stop.

simon’s everything that your boyfriend isn’t. has everything that he lacks. communication, understanding, selflessness; commonsense, emotional intelligence, a big cock,

the list goes on, frankly.

but here you are, your bedroom sweltering around you, swimming beneath distorted waves in your vision. convection currents radiating from your conjoined bodies.

simon’s hands were large and calloused on the soft fat of your hips, fingers toying with the taut lines of stretch marks passing onto the thick of your upper thighs. his hands gripped and pulled and moved you against him, slamming you up and down, grinding you against him.

he was leaned up against the headboard of your bed, head cocked back with dark, hungry eyes glued to your body and a coy smirk plastered across his face. the way he looked at you, gazed you, admired you as if you were some kind of prize, had your stomach in knots.

maybe you were a prize. after all, he was balls-deep in his best friend’s girl, and he didn’t have a care in the world. didn’t have a care in the world that his cock had chubbed instantly when she opened the door to let him in an hour ago.

you panted above him, thighs burning, shins pressed into the warm sheets of your bed. you were hesitant to be on top, to perch your body weight across his pelvis. your boyfriend never assured you it’d be okay, just agreed with you and fucked you flat on the mattress. simon was different.

“what? think i can’t handle myself a girl like you, eh?” simon had uttered, looking you up and down. a prize. he was also knuckle-deep in your pussy by this stage, two fingers scissoring you open. “oh, sweet girl, you have no idea.”

and now you were here. straddling simon riley, the formidable ghost that you’d seen only occasionally with your boyfriend. a recluse of a man, a mountain of a man. was always kind, always respectful.

an army dog, a government mutt. always so obedient, and so polite. well-trained and well-mannered. clearly, until he had a pretty bird like you stretched across his lap. a prize.

“yeah, ride this fuckin’ cock, baby,” simon grunted, helping you fuck yourself down onto his cock. his thick, fat cock— a cock that hit you so deep, stretched you so wide, that the joke of ‘is that a gun in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?’ had died on your tongue because, holy fuck,

he could use it. he knew what he was doing. you should have guessed it with the way he spat on your cunt ten minutes into you letting him into your flat; the way he licked the glob of spit from your wet folds and fucked it into you, tongue warm and searching. you also should have guessed when he rubbed at your clit with his thumb while stretching you open on his fingers; the way he moved them at just the right pace to make you come twice in a row. now:

“s’all yours, baby. s’all yours,” he uttered, pushing his hips upwards to meet your downwards movements.

your tits bounced with each of his thrusts, the mattress creaking beneath you. the sheets were bunching, the heat in the room thick and molten. liquid, drowning you.

you gasped, air in your lungs. you were not drowning, just fucking delirious with the way his cockhead knocked up towards the plug of your cervix.

panting, you clutched at his shoulders. broad and muscular. you could feel the difference in texture where skin ended and scar began. a few times, your fingers wandered upwards, and you drew the tips through his hair. once cropped, now grown out. scruffy, rugged,

handsome. sweat beaded on his forehead, turning the lighter strands dark, sticking to his skin. between the filth he spewed from his mouth, you could hear him grunting and moaning. you wished he’d moan louder. maybe once he stopped talking it’d be different. but you weren’t sure how soon that would be.

“fuckin’— look at the fuckin’ state of you. such a pretty girl. such a pretty— fuckin’— girl,” simon groaned, thrusting up into you. the force made you hiccup around a long moan. simon smiled, triumphant. “look like a dream takin’ all o’ my cock, sweetheart. perfect little pussy letting me stretch her open, huh?”

“simon,” you moaned, and that wasn’t the first time you’d said his name tonight. but he acted as though it was.

a dog with a bone, simon flashed a wicked grin, canines showing, and redoubled his efforts in pushing his cock in and out of you, rutting against your body.

“yeah, baby, i’m here. your simon’s righttttt here,” he said, grinning, as he took one of his large hands and placed it over the mound of your belly, pressing gently and squeezing you there. he couldn’t actually feel his cock inside you, but the added sensation knocked an airy moan from your chest, your eyes rolling. simon hummed, pleased as he fucked you. “‘m reaching so far, aren’t i? so deep. bet your lad couldn’t reach up here, could he?”

you whimpered, and you wanted to whimper a ‘noooo’ but it died in transit. instead, you whimpered, like a wounded dog, as his cock hit that perfect spot inside you. it made you want to scream.

you continued to bounce against him, his thighs pressed close to yours. he fondled you, squeezed your hips while you both worked each other towards release.

“simon,” you pleaded, breathless. “oh, fuck—”

simon wanted so badly to beam with pride. but he resisted, cocking his head and watching the way your greedy cunt sucked his cock in with wet squelches at each upward thrust.

“you feeling good, sweet girl?” he asked, tone warm and honey-sweet. well-trained. then, “this cock making you feel good? he followed with an obvious lilt. mutt.

you replied with a yes, that trailed off into a high-pitched moan when simon’s thumb found your swollen clit, rubbing against it and beginning to draw small, tight circles.

“thaaat’s it, baby. sing for me.”

“siiimon,” you mewled, body tiring but stomach growing tight. bubbling hot, molten like the atmosphere of your bedroom. the knot in the base pulling tighter and tighter with each nudge of his cock against your g-spot.

your cunt was soaked around him, dripping out onto his pelvis and onto your bedsheets. making a mess.

tight, velveteen walls clutched at his cock as your climax built. gripping tight, holding him against you, keeping him with you. wet and warm and the closest to heaven a non-religious man like simon’ll ever come close to.

“beautiful,” he suddenly whispered, eyes on your face now. “beautiful girl.”

well-trained. damn, your boyfriend wasn’t even close to being this well-trained. he was more used to chewing you up like a toy, and heading off to do god knows what once he’d finished. once he’d satisfied himself.

you weren’t a toy for simon. just a prize. much different than a toy, for your information.

a toy is something you play with. a prize is something treasure. savour. and with the way simon revelled at the silky feel of your pussy against his bare cock, he intended to savour you forever.

“you wanna come?” he asked softly, but you knew the soft tone wasn’t going to last. not with the way his eyes glinted, his soft abs flexed, and his mouth curved at the corners. “can feel this pussy startin’ to make a fuss. so desperate for it, isn’t she?”

personifying your pussy. a new one, but one you weren’t entirely afraid of.

so you answered. “yes. simon, please—“

simon quickened his pace, thrusting deeper. your flesh rippled, thighs and stomach and tits moving with the sheer force of his movements. he grunted and panted, eyes drooping, fingers tight in your hips, chasing his own high too. he still had a hard-working finger drawing sharp shapes across your puffy clit.

“go on then. come all over my cock, sweet girl. show me what i’ve been missing out on.”

the tension in your body grew and grew, sweat accumulating across your skin. shiny, dewy, completely ethereal, you hurtled towards release with wind in your sails. sweating, hot, on the brink of overstimulation, you let your mind go fuzzy. you had a heartbeat in your clit. you could feel the stickiness of your inner-thighs. you could hear simon,

“come for me, baby.”

the coil snapped as if on cue. maybe you were the well-trained dog in need of a new collar.

your release rocked you off balance, and you slumped forward, ready for simon to catch you. he did, of course, leaning you against his chest as your body shook, twitched, jerked with the force of your orgasm. it travelled through you like electric shocks. an electrical current that fizzled out after a few long seconds, and left you boneless against simon’s chest.

he was close behind you, his balls drawing tight, tip leaking inside you, flared head now ruddy and red.

he moaned. “god, baby. feel so good around me.” a speechless moment, filled only with pants and— moans. simon moaned loudly, eyes snapping shut as his orgasm quivered inside him. bees trapped in a glass jar.

“just needed a proper cock to split you open,” he said suddenly, voice deep and rich. “pretty girl like you needs a big cock to keep her happy.”

rutting, in and out. desperate mutt. canines flashing, grip tightening, moans increasing. military stamina you hoped wouldn’t last all night. a working dog, too, this man. god, what a man. not perfect (you wouldn’t want him to be), but pretty fuckin’ close right about now.

“simon,” you whined, desperate.

he groaned deeply. “oh yeah, fuck, that’s it, baby. say my name— yeah, say my name when i come inside you.”

“simon…”

“that’s it, baby. that’s it. fuck, m’so close. m’so close, baby, keep going.”

“simon, please—!”

“mhm, thaaat’s it, fuck,” simon moaned, then shoved his cock as far in as it’d go (making you gasp and choke on a loud moan) and then came inside you.

you felt the heat. more heat, more liquid fire. molten. lava. you were drowning again.

he filled you, cum painting your insides as he moaned out your name, whining as his head flopped backwards, his large hands keeping you firmly in place.

then, everything stilled. your heartbeat clanged loudly in your ears, heavy in your rib cage. your puffy clit beat in tandem with it, and your hole fluttered around his cock, now still and plugging his release inside you.

for the briefest moment, as you lay against simon’s chest in the warm, sex-laden air of your bedroom, you thought of your boyfriend. the man you should’ve been doing all of this with.

but the thought was merely a linger. it flitted away, brushed aside by simon’s lips, that came to rest against your tacky forehead. he peppered a few kisses there, rubbing your hips, arse and back soothingly as you fizzled down.

“pretty girl…” simon whispered softly, hugging you to him. “my pretty girl.”

his prize.

he always thought his mate was a bit of a prick, anyway.

[wordstome]

how c.ai works and why it's unethical

Okay, since the AI discourse is happening again, I want to make this very clear, because a few weeks ago I had to explain to a (well meaning) person in the community how AI works. I'm going to be addressing people who are maybe younger or aren't familiar with the latest type of "AI", not people who purposely devalue the work of creatives and/or are shills.

The name "Artificial Intelligence" is a bit misleading when it comes to things like AI chatbots. When you think of AI, you think of a robot, and you might think that by making a chatbot you're simply programming a robot to talk about something you want them to talk about, and it's similar to an rp partner. But with current technology, that's not how AI works. For a breakdown on how AI is programmed, CGP grey made a great video about this several years ago (he updated the title and thumbnail recently)

I HIGHLY HIGHLY recommend you watch this because CGP Grey is good at explaining, but the tl;dr for this post is this: bots are made with a metric shit-ton of data. In C.AI's case, the data is writing. Stolen writing, usually scraped fanfiction.

How do we know chatbots are stealing from fanfiction writers? It knows what omegaverse is [SOURCE] (it's a Wired article, put it in incognito mode if it won't let you read it), and when a Reddit user asked a chatbot to write a story about "Steve", it automatically wrote about characters named "Bucky" and "Tony" [SOURCE].

I also said this in the tags of a previous reblog, but when you're talking to C.AI bots, it's also taking your writing and using it in its algorithm: which seems fine until you realize 1. They're using your work uncredited 2. It's not staying private, they're using your work to make their service better, a service they're trying to make money off of.

"But Bucca," you might say. "Human writers work like that too. We read books and other fanfictions and that's how we come up with material for roleplay or fanfiction."

Well, what's the difference between plagiarism and original writing? The answer is that plagiarism is taking what someone else has made and simply editing it or mixing it up to look original. You didn't do any thinking yourself. C.AI doesn't "think" because it's not a brain, it takes all the fanfiction it was taught on, mixes it up with whatever topic you've given it, and generates a response like in old-timey mysteries where somebody cuts a bunch of letters out of magazines and pastes them together to write a letter.

(And might I remind you, people can't monetize their fanfiction the way C.AI is trying to monetize itself. Authors are very lax about fanfiction nowadays: we've come a long way since the Anne Rice days of terror. But this issue is cropping back up again with BookTok complaining that they can't pay someone else for bound copies of fanfiction. Don't do that either.)

Bottom line, here are the problems with using things like C.AI:

It is using material it doesn't have permission to use and doesn't credit anybody. Not only is it ethically wrong, but AI is already beginning to contend with copyright issues.

C.AI sucks at its job anyway. It's not good at basic story structure like building tension, and can't even remember things you've told it. I've also seen many instances of bots saying triggering or disgusting things that deeply upset the user. You don't get that with properly trigger tagged fanworks.

Your work and your time put into the app can be taken away from you at any moment and used to make money for someone else. I can't tell you how many times I've seen people who use AI panic about accidentally deleting a bot that they spent hours conversing with. Your time and effort is so much more stable and well-preserved if you wrote a fanfiction or roleplayed with someone and saved the chatlogs. The company that owns and runs C.AI can not only use whatever you've written as they see fit, they can take your shit away on a whim, either on purpose or by accident due to the nature of the Internet.

DON'T USE C.AI, OR AT THE VERY BARE MINIMUM DO NOT DO THE AI'S WORK FOR IT BY STEALING OTHER PEOPLES' WORK TO PUT INTO IT. Writing fanfiction is a communal labor of love. We share it with each other for free for the love of the original work and ideas we share. Not only can AI not replicate this, but it shouldn't.

(also, this goes without saying, but this entire post also applies to ai art)

[throwing-roses-into-the-abyss]

why does tech/the internet hate me so much today ;__;

[coyoteuugly]

love the validation i get from having lots of replies to my discusion posts, especially when they hit me with the, i never thought about it like that

[bro-atz]

bottle service

in which: all yunho wants to do is fuck the bottle girl's brains out.

pair: big dick!yunho/small!afab!reader

word count: 3.4k

content: smut, completely consensual!

tag list: @k-hotchoisan @eyeryis @sinnarols @aaasia111 @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia apply for the permanent taglist here! network: @cromernet

Yunho didn’t have a type, per se, but he found himself always drawn to girls like you. His friends made fun of him, telling him that he had a lolita complex, but that was definitely, completely, 100% not true, especially because he was not at all attracted to underaged girls. No way. Absolutely not. He just liked dainty little women with soft facial features and short statures— what she could be wearing doesn’t matter to him at all (because, honestly, he would rather they wear nothing at all).

“Five bucks says he hits on her by the end of the night,” Yunho heard Mingi whisper to San.

“There’s no fucking way I’m taking that bet because we already fucking know he’s going to do it,” San, already completely wasted, conveyed his opinion along with his sailor mouth.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” Mingi frowned.

Yunho rolled his eyes. As Mingi and San continued to bicker in the background, Yunho’s eyes followed your every movement. He watched as your hair swayed gracefully while your short legs carried you around the room, making you seem like you were almost gliding. For someone so short, he was surprised to see you carrying multiple trays of beer, and his eyes flew wide open when he saw you effortlessly carry a huge bottle of champagne that could very well be three times your size— the bottle was bigger than your head for crying out loud.

“You know it’s going to be impossible to hit on a bottle girl of all people. Let’s be real, Yunho, she probably gets rich bastards hitting on her all the time, and she doesn’t even need that since she’s making so much in tips,” Seonghwa brought his voice down as he talked to the man.

“Yeah, just give up, dude,” Wooyoung added. “It ain’t never gonna happen.”

Clenching his jaw, Yunho was determined to prove them wrong. He walked away from the table and immediately up to you.

Now looking at you a little closer, Yunho didn’t realize that you were practically naked. You were wearing nothing but a cropped tank top and high-rise shorts, your red underwear peaking out whenever you bent down or moved your shoulder. Fuck, it just made the tall man want you even more.

“Hey,” he started, thinking that the line by itself would be enough.

“Hi, darling. Would your table like another round?” you, on the other hand, were in sales mode. You had no time to be flirting with this man.

“Actually, I—”

“Hey, Y/N! One more round for me and my boys!” another customer yelled from afar.

“You got it, darlin’!”

Yunho gaped as you immediately got back to work. He slunk back to his table and stood with a frown, the boys silent for a hot second before immediately bursting out into laughter.

“You’re an idiot, Yunho!” Hongjoong roared as he clapped the man on the back.

“San, you should’ve taken the bet,” Jongho pointed out.

“No, because the bet was on whether or not he would go and flirt, not whether or not he would be successful. If you said get her by the end of the night, I would’ve happily taken that bet,” San snickered.

“You guys suck,” Yunho grumbled as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Yunho wasn’t able to really focus on much after that. He wanted you even more.

You stepped out for a smoke. God knows you needed it. Yes, the tips were really fucking good, but dealing with sleazy businessmen and frat bros spending all of their daddy’s money was less than ideal. Truth be told, there was only one table there that night that you didn’t mind serving. They all seemed like a bunch of well off dudes with enough money to spend but none of the pretentiousness. Especially that one super tall guy who approached you. He didn’t seem so bad.

“Just get over it. It’s not going to happen.”

Your ears perked up when you heard a man with the lowest voice on Earth speak from around the corner. You peeked your head around to see the tall man and another one of his friends from that table.

“You really suck, Yeosang,” the tall man pouted— God, he looked so cute with a pout on his face.

“She’s working, Yunho. Don’t bother the poor thing. Let her pay her bills,” the other man, Yeosang, lectured Yunho.

A curious smile emerged on your face. Were they talking about you, perhaps?

“If we leave her a big enough tip, then she could leave work early, and everything would be fine!”

“At the risk of her losing her job! It’s one thing to just want to sleep with her, but another if you’re willing to sabotage her life just to get some pussy tonight. Also, knowing you, you’re going to fucking murder her because you’re so big and she’s so small.”

There was only one short girl on your team, and that was you. So, yes, they had to be talking about you. Killing the rest of your cigarette, you sprayed breath freshener in your mouth and smoothed out your hair before walking around the corner and sashaying back into the establishment, making sure you gave Yunho a good view. Right before you went back inside, you looked over your shoulder and smiled at him briefly, leaving him with a rock-hard boner.

“Fuck…” you barely heard Yunho groan as he desperately tried to calm himself down.

A smirk lingered on your face knowing that you got the man all sorts of hot and bothered. Good.

“So, Y/N, what’s it like to be a bottle girl?” Seonghwa asked you.

It calmed down in the establishment quite a lot after about an hour, allowing you to dedicate your time to the table that you were most excited to serve. You stood with them, the eight men towering over you. Originally, that would intimidate you, but given the information you knew about the tallest man of the group crushing hard on you, the height disparity didn’t bother you in the slightest.

“I mean, you can really see for yourself,” you responded with a smile. “It’s like being a stripper at times, but it definitely beats being a stripper since I don’t have to give lap dances to wasted men. I just serve them alcohol.”

“So you used to be a stripper?” San smirked— not at you, though; he was just trying to get a rise out of Yunho.

“Yeah, I did that for a couple of years before moving to the city and getting this job.”

“That’s so fucking sexy of you, Y/N,” Mingi, who was standing closest to you, stood the tiniest bit closer and ran his finger along your arm. You could see Yunho’s jaw clench when he saw what Mingi did to you.

With an exasperated smile, you grabbed Mingi’s hand and pushed it away while saying, “Buddy, you can look, but you can’t touch.”

“Not even if I tip you well?”

“She just said she’s not a stripper anymore, Mankgi,” Hongjoong swatted the back of the boy’s head. “Don’t do something stupid.”

You saw Yunho’s jaw relax, nearly making you laugh. Yunho was definitely subtle with his reactions, but you were keeping such a close eye on him that every single action and reaction of his did not go missed by you. He was such a cutie, and you were here for it.

“So, Y/N, what time do you have to stay and work until?” Yeosang, who seemed to be wingman-ing Yunho, asked you.

“We close at 3 AM, so 4 AM,” you sighed. “Gotta enter the tips and help the busboys clean up.”

“You would think as a sexy bottle girl, you wouldn’t have to do menial labor like that,” Wooyoung mused.

“We’re still employees,” you laughed. Then, bringing your voice down, you said, “But I like helping because sometimes we find loose bills around the venue. Free money.”

The place was practically empty by the time 3 AM rolled around. You realized that as you talked to the eight men, you talked to all of them except the man that you were actually interested in. Bummer. You couldn’t expect him to wait for you after work, so when they all left for the night, a light sigh left your lips, and you half-heartedly finished your work for the night.

Yet, at 4 AM, you left the building to see Yunho standing outside. It was a little chilly out, so you could see his breath in the air as he exhaled and looked up at the sky. He looked so sexy standing there with his hands in his pockets, his jawline and neck accentuated in the city lights as he held his head up high.

Of course Yunho was going to wait for you. You weren’t as subtle as you’d like to think— he noticed your sly looks in his direction when you were talking to his table, and he knew that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. Fuck, you were so perfect for him, and he told himself he would do anything if he got to spend the rest of the night with you, even if that meant waiting outside for you for an hour. At least that gave him time to sober up slightly more (not that he had much to drink in the first place).

“Yunho, right?” you asked as you approached the man.

“Oh! Y/N,” Yunho, surprised, turned around to face you, a light blush appearing on his face. “H-hi…”

“Hey.”

Yunho was speechless for a split moment— you weren’t in your work clothes anymore, and you definitely had a lot more on than before, but your long coat just accentuated your short stature, making the man thirst for you even more. Your hair tumbled around lightly as the wind pushed it back, revealing the playful glimmer in your eyes. Yunho was smitten. Completely and utterly smitten.

“Sorry, I know it must be creepy for a man to be waiting for you after work— I’m sure it happens all the time, and I don’t mean to be one of those men, but I just—”

Yunho, rambling out of sheer nervousness, cut himself off when you approached him and placed a gentle hand on his arm. You gave him a half-flirty, half-appreciative smile as you looked at him. You didn’t need to utter a word for Yunho to feel reassured that the feelings were mutual. Thank God.

“Would you like to go somewhere with me?” you asked him, your voice barely audible over the rushing wind.

Yunho couldn’t keep his hands off you. In the car ride to the hotel, he had his large hand on your thigh, rubbing slowly and sensually, but not going further than that. And then, in the elevator, he pinned you against the wall and grabbed the back of your head, immediately pulling you in for a rough kiss. You clutched and grabbed at his forearms as he fully overtook you, his lips completely devouring yours. He only got more rough from there when he shoved his hand down the waistband of your pants and panties, his fingers stroking your dripping folds.

“Yun— Ah! Yunho, w-wait,” you moaned, your words muffled against his lips.

“What do you mean “wait”, doll? You’re so fucking wet for me,” Yunho teased as he murmured against your lips. “I think you’re just as impatient as I am.”

“M-my legs,” you whimpered before inhaling sharply. “If you don’t wait, I won’t be able to stand…”

“If that’s the case,” Yunho growled before withdrawing his hand so he could lift you, his large hands grabbing and squeezing your ass as he suspended you in the air.

You laced your fingers through his hair and held tightly as you brought your lips to his once more, his tongue diving deep into your mouth as he resumed eating you alive. The elevator doors opened, and you for sure thought he was going to let you down, but instead, he continued to carry you down the hall, his lips still locked in a frenzy with yours. Soft moans and sighs left the two of you as you got to the room. Yunho unlocked the room and immediately rushed inside so he could pin you on the bed and rip your clothes off you.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet,” Yunho murmured as he gazed at your slick, his tongue sensually running along his lower lip. “Gimme a taste, why don’t you?”

You nodded shyly. Yunho’s hands went under your thighs and pushed your legs up, his tongue meeting your cunt. You cried out in pleasure when you felt his tongue slither inside you, his nose brushing against your clit as he ate you out. It was when Yunho lifted you up while continuing lick and slurp up your arousal fluid did you yelp, the man holding you up in the air as his tongue violated you. You held onto the roots of his hair and gripped for dear life, the fear of you falling sending blood rushing through your body but also filling you with excitement.

Before you could cum, Yunho let you down. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt and looked down at your tiny, helpless body, a smirk forming on his face as thought about you looking torn to shreds because of his monster cock. You watched him with trembling eyes as the man slowly stripped down for you, your eyes widening as you saw his firm cock trembling and waiting to burst forth from his underwear.

“Y-yunho… I— I don’t think you’re going to fit,” you said with slight fear.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Yunho responded nonchalantly as he revealed his massive cock and tapped your waist lightly, his cock the literal length of your stomach.

Rolling on a condom that he had taken out from his wallet moments prior, Yunho got on the bed and rubbed the tip of his cock against your folds. You were terrified that he was going to just push his way right through you, but instead, Yunho merely pushed the head into your cunt, then pulled out. He did this several times, frustration starting to build inside you as he teased the everloving shit out of you.

“For someone who was so afraid, you seem to want me inside you,” Yunho chuckled.

“Fu-uck! Yunho, do something, please,” you begged him, the fire in your loins burning a hole within you.

“Alright. Just relax for me, okay?” Yunho said, his voice hushed and calm as he caressed your face.

You nodded and did your best to relax, your head pushing into his hand as he finally pushed more than just the tip into you. You felt him fill you up, and you felt like he was tearing you as his cock spread you wider than you had ever been spread. You reached for his arms and held on tightly as he pressed his hands onto the bed right above your shoulders, a groan rumbling in the back of his throat.

“Shit, you’re so tight,” Yunho grunted. “Loosen up.”

You inhaled and exhaled deeply, Yunho shoving his length all the way inside you when you exhaled. You flung your head back and cried loudly as you felt his cock throb uncontrollably inside you, his cock brushing against your cervix. Yunho remained in place as he let out an erotic sigh while you, on the other hand, were panting and trying desperately to blink the stars out of your vision.

“See,” Yunho told you, a cocky smile on his face. “I do fit.”

“Mmmhmmm,” you couldn’t even formulate words— all the man did was push his cock in you, and you already felt like you were fucked out simply because of how much he filled you up.

He only thrusted into you a singular time, but your entire body lurched and moved backwards with said thrust. The sound of his waist hitting your ass echoed loudly in the room, and the sound only got more repetitive as he began to properly move. His cock was so massive that you felt like he was going to pull out your insides.

“Doll, you feel so fucking good,” Yunho grunted out, his head dropping down to your neck. “So fucking good. You’re so tight and small— Fuck!”

Yunho flipped the two of you so that he was laying on the bed and you were straddling him. When you sat all the way down, you felt like his cock shot straight through you, hitting your cervix with such force that you came immediately. You cried loudly as you creamed and clenched, making the man flinch and nearly cum himself.

“Shit, don’t go squeezing me like that,” Yunho grunted with a little chuckle. “You nearly snapped my cock off.”

“Do-Don’t act like you— Hnngh— Didn’t like that,” you panted out, little groans leaving you as you continued to ride his fat cock.

Yunho smirked. He propped himself up on his elbows and thrust into you at an angle that made you completely fall apart, your hands resting on his abs to keep you steady. You could barely keep your hands in place, though, because he brought his lips to your breast and started sucking hard, his mouth completely overtaking your nipple. You entire body trembled when you felt his tongue flick and swirl around your nipple, and it certainly did not help that he sucked super hard on your breast as if he was trying to get something out of it. Your toes curled as he switched from one to the other, and his waist refused to let up as he thrust powerfully from underneath you.

“‘m c-cumming again!” you moaned loudly as your cunt convulsed, making you squirt all over Yunho’s waist.

He, however, refused to give you a break. Your head was still in the cloud when he sat up entirely and moved so that he was kneeling and you were still sitting on his cock, your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrust into you continuously. You clung to him and moaned loudly as his thrusts did not slow down in the slightest. He continued to drill into you over and over again, his force so immense that he ended up pinning you down on the bed again.

His cock kept rubbing along your G-spot and hitting your cervix, and the louder you cried, the more intense that feeling got. You could barely see through bleary, teary eyes that his eyes were dark and his jaw was tense as he fucked you into the mattress.

“You’re tightening up again, doll— are you gonna cum again?” Yunho could barely laugh as he groaned his question.

“Ye-es, I’m c-close,” you whined. “I’m gonna—”

Yunho interrupted you with a kiss, his grip on your waist tightening. You looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, the blood rushing to your ears as you barely heard him say, “Wait for me. I’m al-almost there— Shit!”

Suddenly pulling out, Yunho removed the condom and came all over you, his seed spreading from your chest all the way down to your convulsing pussy as you, too, came. Yunho sat back on his heels and jerked himself off as more of his hot cum spurt out and landed on your skin.

“Jesus Christ,” you hissed as you flung your head back into the sheets, your hands covering your face. “That was insane.”

“In a good or bad way?” Yunho asked with a slight laugh, his body hovering over yours as he brought himself to look at your fucked out face.

“Good— That was too fucking good, Yunho,” you sighed out. “Too fucking good…”

“I’d say let’s go again, but I’m afraid I’ve only got the one condom,” he whispered.

“…Are you clean?”

“Yes, are you?”

You nodded then reached for his neck, pulling him into your embrace. Your lips brushed against his ear as you whispered, “Then I don’t see why we can’t go again.”

Yunho shivered, and his cock firmed up almost immediately. He grabbed you and flipped you over so that you were on your hands and knees, his cock immediately rubbing along your ass crack.

“You’re going to regret saying that to me, doll.”

[punkshort]

Roommates | 8. forever

Pairing: pornstar!joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Tommy and Maria get married.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, idiots in love, alcohol and food consumption, sexual tension, flirting, a wedding!

WC: 7.6K

Series Masterlist

"Oh, goddamnit," you muttered under your breath, pausing in your rush across the hot parking lot to tug your dress out from underneath your heel. You crouched down for a moment to examine the dress to make sure it wasn't damaged before you stood back up, this time bunching all the extra material in your fist before trotting as quickly as you could to the entrance of the restaurant.

"Slow down, you ain't missin' anythin', they haven't even sat down yet," Joel said, startling you from his post on a bench next to an ashtray.

"Oh, hey," you said breathlessly, then looked him up and down. "Were you smoking?"

He shook his head and stood up, dusting off his grey dress pants in the process. "Just gettin' some air. Tryin' to cut back."

"Good for you," you said, then nodded towards the door. "Ready? I need to get out of this heat."

"After you."

You thought for sure you would be in for Maria's wrath when you hit traffic and ended up being almost fifteen minutes late for the rehearsal dinner, but mercifully, Joel was right. The group was in the reserved banquet room but hardly anyone had sat down yet. Instead, people were mingling and laughing in small groups as the waitstaff filled up waters and placed open bottles of wine across the tables.

As you scanned around and looked for a seat, your eyes landed on someone familiar and a wide smile stretched across your face.

"Mrs. Miller!"

Joel and Tommy's mother beamed when she heard your voice and quickly abandoned the people she was talking to in favor of pulling you into a hug.

"Oh, honey, how are you?"

"Good! Late, but good," you laughed when she released you from her death grip. She kept her hands firmly planted on your shoulders and gave you a once over.

"Love that dress, my goodness. Doesn't she look beautiful in this dress, Joel?" she asked mischievously. You felt your cheeks warm and you looked down at the floor while Joel just rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Mama," he replied flatly.

"You'll sit with us, right, dear?" she asked.

"Of course," you said with a nod.

"Good, I want you to meet the man I've been seeing," she replied before wrapping her thin fingers around your arm to lead you to her table, which, of course, was shared with Tommy and Maria.

James seemed nice and he got along well with both Joel and Tommy, from what you could tell. Before he retired, he worked in construction, just like their own father before he passed away, and he seemed absolutely smitten with their mom. His arm was around the back of her chair or holding her hand the entire dinner and you could tell Mrs. Miller was adoring every second of it.

"Are you still seeing that lawyer, dear?" she asked right when dessert was placed in front of you. You felt your chest tighten as you stared down at your tiramisu and you focused on the skills you learned in therapy whenever you felt this type of feeling crop up. Take a few deep breaths, collect the data, put things in perspective. Just as you were about to answer, you felt Joel's hand on your knee and he cleared his throat.

"No, Mama. Didn't work out."

He must have given her a look when your gaze was still fixed on your plate because there was an awkward silence before she spoke again.

"No matter. Plenty of fish in the sea. Maybe you'll meet someone tomorrow at the wedding."

You forced yourself to meet her eye and smiled. "Yeah, maybe," you replied weakly. Joel's fingers tensed around your knee for half a second before he slowly pulled his hand away to pick up his fork. When she began to talk softly to James, you took the opportunity to shoot Joel a grateful smile, which he returned with a wink.

"Thank you," you whispered. "I could have handled it but... thank you."

"Welcome," he replied just as quietly. "And I know you coulda, but you don't gotta do everythin' by yourself."

Joel began to eat his dessert while you sat there, immobilized. For some reason, hearing him say those words knocked you on your ass for a moment. You were always the type to take on too much and rarely ask for help, another trait that contributed to your anxiety. The only thing that pulled you out of it was Tommy's voice aimed in your general direction. He was giving instructions to the wedding venue from the restaurant so you all knew where to go after dinner to do one quick walkthrough before the big day, so you nodded along and finally picked up your own fork.

"You wanna follow my truck?" Joel asked once dinner disbanded and everyone slowly filtered into the parking lot. You shook your head and pulled your keys out of your purse.

"No, I think I know where it is. It's not far from the hotel."

He nodded and glanced over his shoulder, checking on his mother. "You get settled in okay?"

You gave him a curious look. "In the hotel? Yeah."

The wedding wasn't too far away from home but most of the wedding party elected to stay in the hotel where the reception was being held so they wouldn't have to worry about getting a ride after drinking.

He nodded again and swiped his palm over his mouth. "Which room?"

You laughed and playfully shoved his shoulder, making him grin and stumble a bit over the asphalt. "What?" he asked innocently, but he didn't sell it. You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop smiling as you unlocked your car and opened your door, tossing your purse onto the passenger seat. As you were about to bunch up your dress and get into the car, Joel cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow, indicating he was still waiting for an answer.

"409," you said with a sigh. His tongue clicked against his teeth and he shoved his hands in his pockets.

"418. Right across the hall."

"What a coincidence." Propping one arm on your hip and the other on the roof of your car, you tapped your fingers on the hard plastic, waiting for him to say something else. His eyes drifted up and down your body before meeting your gaze once again, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement. People streamed past you to their cars, heels clicking on the blacktop and soft chuckles floating in the air, but you kept your eyes pinned on each other, silently daring the other to say something more.

Against all odds, or maybe it was always inevitable, your relationship managed to mostly repair itself over the past few weeks. It was nice to have Joel back in your life again in any capacity he was willing to offer, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore your feelings for him. The morning you woke up on Tommy and Maria's couch with Joel's arms wrapped around you, holding you against his broad chest with his face buried in your hair felt like a literal wake up call. As you laid there listening to his deep, steady breaths, you tried to think back to a time when you fell asleep in his arms without sex preceding it, but you came up empty.

It felt really fucking nice, so you had closed your eyes and tried to go back to sleep, but it was impossible. You felt like yourself again. You spent months in therapy wondering where that feeling went when all along the answer was right there.

"See you at the country club," he finally said before tearing himself away and forcing his feet to move in the direction of his truck.

"Yep," you said softly, watching him longingly as he made his way through the cars until he disappeared from view. You took a deep breath and looked around the parking lot when your gaze unexpectedly met the deep brown eyes of Mrs. Miller, watching you from the passenger seat of James's SUV.

You felt something happen in that moment. Something unspoken passed between you through the glass and you had never felt more seen. Woman to woman, she held your gaze and you swallowed the lump in your throat, knowing your expression was betraying you by that point, but what could you do?

James pulled out of the parking spot and you blinked, snapping yourself out of your stupor. When the car passed, you could see the knowing look in her eye, one that told you you weren't fooling anyone, and then they were gone.

The event coordinator, Michelle, was a tiny little thing who also happened to be very bossy. She probably did at least one wedding a weekend the entire summer for god knows how many years, so she knew her shit, but considering the entire wedding party had just come from dinner with copious amounts of alcohol, her patience was wearing thin. She was barking orders at the first bridesmaid and groomsman at the front of the line while the four of you stood in the back snickering to yourselves.

"Goddamn, she ain't messin' around," Tommy said quietly with a grin.

"A woman after Maria's heart," you replied over your shoulder.

"I've never felt more calm in my life," Maria chuckled softly. "There's no way this isn't going off without a hitch."

On the actual day, it would just be you and Joel at the end of the line, but Tommy and Maria wanted to observe during the rehearsal.

Michelle was making her way down the rows of bridesmaids and groomsmen, instructing each set how to stand, where their hands should be, and what their cue was to start walking.

"Slow!" she barked after a pair began walking. You saw the bridesmaid's shoulders flinch and you had to hide your grin by biting your lip and looking down at your feet.

When she got to you and Joel, you straightened up. Suddenly it felt like you were back in high school and the vice principal was about to chew you out for skipping class.

"Closer together, please," she told you, waving her perfectly manicured, blood red fingertips at the two of you. Immediately, you stepped to the side and apparently so did Joel because you bumped into each other.

"Okay, not that close," she scolded. You had to hold yourself back from kicking a foot at Maria when you heard her snickering.

Michelle took you by the shoulders and placed you exactly where she wanted, then did the same to Joel, leaving just a few inches between you. You could feel his fingers impatiently twitching at his side and you got the feeling Michelle made him nervous, too.

"Okay, crook your elbow, like this," she told him, yanking his arm up and bending it before she flattened his palm against his stomach. "Great. Don't move. Maid of honor, loop your arm through, place your fingers here, hold your bouquet at your bellybutton. Both of you, straighten your spines and begin a slow walk once they make it to the first set of chairs. Any questions?"

You both quickly shook your heads and you looped your arm through Joel's, just as she instructed, and pretended to hold a bouquet at your waist with your other hand.

When you saw your cue, you both began to walk, praying you were going slowly enough. You heard her voice begin talking to Tommy and Maria, asking if they had any questions or if anything was missed, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Fuck, she's scary."

You giggled and glanced up at him. He was staring straight ahead but he had a little amused smirk tugging across his face and you could see that damn dimple creasing his cheek. You tried not to think about how close you were to him, how long it had been since that night on the couch, or how comfortable it felt to touch him again, and instead focused on where you were supposed to stand once you got to the altar.

Joel dropped his arm and you went your separate ways, taking your places at the front of the bridal party, and waited for the next instructions. Tommy and Maria came down the aisle talking with Michelle and motioning towards the chairs while you all waited. You let your gaze drift over to the men and you caught Joel already looking your way. You gave him a little smile and you watched him swallow before taking a deep breath, dragging his eyes away from you.

Michelle's commanding voice cut through the air and you snapped your head back in her direction. She was explaining the bullet points of the ceremony to everybody while she pushed Tommy and Maria up on the altar between you and Joel.

"Next, the officiant will say you may kiss the bride, you two will kiss-"

Tommy took that moment to wrap his arm around Maria's waist and bend her backwards before planting a wet, sloppy kiss on her lips, causing the entire wedding party to break into fits of whooping and laughter. Michelle clapped her hands sharply and the noise instantly ceased. Tommy picked Maria back up, who was pressing her palms against her cheeks with a huge smile, and he shrugged.

"Sorry, thought we were rehearsin'."

She cleared her throat and raised a thin eyebrow at him before she continued, explaining the music would start and Tommy was to lead Maria down the aisle, which he did without goofing around.

"You two," she said, motioning towards you and Joel. You both stepped forward and stood where Tommy and Maria were just standing. "Same as before, hold onto his arm, keep your bouquet at your bellybutton, and don't begin walking until the bride and groom walk down the entire aisle, got it?"

You both nodded stiffly and, once Tommy and Maria reached the end, you started to walk. Michelle began to instruct the next couple and Joel picked up the pace a little once he knew she wasn't looking.

"You're gonna get us in trouble," you teased.

"Wouldn't be the first time."

You gasped and gave him a little hip check and then you heard Michelle calling after you to stop fooling around.

Joel chuckled as you felt your face flush with an embarrassing smile. A few months prior, a comment like that might have sent you spiraling into a pit of self despair just for simply being reminded of the camping trip, but that day you managed to let it roll off your shoulders.

You joined Tommy and Maria and watched as the rest of the bridal party practiced leaving the altar. Joel casually stretched his arm behind you, leaning on a railing so he could say something to Tommy behind you and Maria, but when they finished up and Tommy began talking with his groomsmen, Joel kept his arm on the railing. The fabric from his button down was brushing ever so slightly against the skin of your back, exposed by your dress. Your jaw was tight from the effort it took to not react when his thumb skimmed over your spine, sending tingles across your skin.

"Did I tell you this dress looks nice on you?"

His voice was warm and deep against your ear and it took everything you had not to lean back into his shoulder, it was so hypnotizing.

"Your mom kind of did that for you," you reminded him quietly, keeping your eyes on the rest of the wedding party as they began to cluster around Tommy and Maria, laughing at some story Tommy was telling them about his tux fitting.

"Well, it does. This's your color," he said lowly and you could practically feel his eyes dragging over your soft curves being hugged by the delicate material.

"Thank you," you replied a little breathier than you would have liked. You tilted your chin to risk a glance at him, finding yourself immediately getting lost in his eyes. You searched his face, trying to read him, trying to figure out what he was thinking but you kept getting hung up on all the little details about him that you loved. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the patchiness in his beard, the little scar across the bridge of his nose.

Fuck, he was perfect. How did you ever let yourself take it for granted?

"What're you thinkin' 'bout?" he asked softly. Apparently he had been doing the same thing to you: trying to read your expression, see inside your head.

You swallowed and gave your head a little shake.

"How fucking stupid I was."

His eyebrows twitched up in surprise, his lips parted and you were certain he was about to say or ask something else when Tommy stuck two fingers in his mouth and whistled so loud, the whole wedding party groaned and covered their ears.

"C'mon, let's all have one more drink back in our room, place is fuckin' huge," he announced, causing a ripple of laughter amongst the small group.

And just like that, the moment was gone.

Maria and another bridesmaid hooked their arms through yours, pulling you away from Joel and through the venue towards the parking lot, laughing and babbling suggestions for their hair the following day. You glanced once over your shoulder and caught his eye, clocking the tortured look he gave you. Even from a distance you could see the longing, the curiosity to learn what you meant, and the absolute frustration at having the opportunity ripped away.

Joel tapped lightly on your door the next morning but figured out pretty quickly he was too late. You had already left with the other bridesmaids and Maria to get ready at the country club, leaving Tommy and the groomsmen to get ready in the honeymoon suite at the hotel.

He tried to get you alone for just five fucking minutes the night before but the group was too small and it was impossible to tear you away without being obvious. He could tell you wanted to talk, too. He saw it in the way he caught your eye more than once in that measly little hour spent in Tommy's hotel room. Then he got caught in a painful conversation with another groomsman about golf and suddenly, you were nowhere to be found.

He excused himself and hurried back to his room, hoping to catch up with you, but it was no use. He hovered around your door, fingers carding anxiously through his hair, wondering if he should knock, debating over and over in his mind whether or not invading your space would scare you off until he heard an elevator chime and the doors slide open and he slipped into his room in a panic.

He should have just fucking knocked.

The next time he would see you would be at the ceremony. He wouldn't be able to talk to you til the reception, well after pictures and dinner and speeches were done.

It was going to be a very long day.

You up? We got breakfast here, get your ass going

Joel rolled his eyes as he continued to gather his things after his shower, wishing more than anything that you had just texted him instead of Tommy.

Be there in 10

He draped his tux over his shoulder, two fingers hooked through the hanger, and carried a small bag of toiletries in his other hand as he shuffled out the door, stealing one last glance at your room as he went.

He rode the elevator up to the top floor and stepped out, already hearing the men laughing and glasses clinking with the steady thumping of a deep bass line through the walls. Knowing he would have to be loud for them to hear, he made a fist and pounded on the wood, rattling the door in its frame. It swung open and Nick, the groomsman who monopolized his time last night talking about fucking golf, stood on the other side.

"Joel, mornin'. Come on in, got some catchin' up to do. We're already two drinks deep." Nick stepped aside with a friendly smile and allowed Joel to enter.

"Two drinks? Shit, might wanna slow down, gonna be a long fuckin' day at that rate."

Nick laughed and let the heavy door close, then patted him on the shoulder as he headed over to the little kitchen area. "We all put our shit in the spare room. Go ahead and I'll get you somethin' to drink. Got some food here, too."

"Alright," Joel replied, his eyes drifting around the living room as he walked towards the bedrooms. Tommy caught his eye and raised both arms in the air.

"I'm gettin' married!" he shouted excitedly. Joel grinned and kept walking.

He would have to be patient. As much as he couldn't get you off his mind, he had to be present for his brother. This was going to be one of the happiest days of his life and Joel would be damned if he messed that up for him.

Nick slid a glass of champagne in Joel's hand after he emerged from the spare room and he quirked an eyebrow.

"Pacin' ourselves," Nick explained with a shrug.

Joel nodded and took a sip, the flute looking comically small in his grip, before setting it down and forcing himself to join in the festivities. And he was doing a pretty good job at pushing you from his mind for once until a few hours later. All the men had gotten dressed and a hairdresser Maria hired was going around fixing loose pieces of hair on everyone when Tommy's phone pinged. He picked it up and a huge smile spread across his face.

"It's Maria."

He turned the screen around to show a picture she took. It was of the room where the girls were getting ready, a candid shot of bridesmaids in the background getting their makeup done or sipping on champagne. The main focus of the picture was Maria's left hand extended in front of her, her engagement ring sparkling in the light, but Joel hardly noticed the diamond when you were in the corner of the shot talking to another bridesmaid with a dazzling smile that always made him weak in the knees. You looked so fucking beautiful and you didn't even have your makeup done yet.

He wasn't the only one who noticed you, unfortunately.

"Hey, what's the deal with Maria's maid of honor?" Nick asked Tommy. "She's pretty and seems like fun."

If Joel had even a moment to think, he might have caught the way Tommy immediately looked in his direction, conflicted and unsure what to say. But it didn't matter because Joel set Nick straight instead.

"She's unavailable."

Nick swiveled to look at Joel. "Oh, damn. Figured as much."

Joel nodded and cleared his throat, trying to avoid the very obvious look his brother was giving him, and took a long sip of whiskey.

Once Nick wandered away, Tommy instantly sidled up to Joel and he knew he was in for it.

"Unavailable?" he repeated under his breath. "Got somethin' you wanna share?"

Joel shrugged, trying to look casual but he knew Tommy saw right through him. "It's the truth. She ain't interested in seein' anyone."

"Hm," Tommy said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, loving the way his brother was squirming under his questioning. "How'd you find that out?"

"She told me."

"Told you."

"Yep."

"And under what circumstances did she... tell you?"

Joel frowned and finally dragged his gaze to meet Tommy's. "We're just friends now."

"Didn't exactly answer my question."

Joel scoffed. "Don't you got shit to worry 'bout, like vows or somethin'?"

Tommy shook his head. "Nah, got that all locked down. Would much rather hear 'bout your friend."

He groaned and rubbed his eyes. "Ain't nothin' to tell, I promise. Nothin's goin' on."

"Well, weddings are romantic. Drinkin'... dancin'... beautiful venue... dim lights. Might stir up some old feelin's."

Joel nodded and looked at his watch with a sigh. "Limo'll be here soon."

Tommy bit his cheek, wishing Joel would open up a bit more, but decided not to push it.

"Oughta wrangle everyone up. Almost show time."

"They're here!" a bridesmaid squealed when she saw the limo pull up to the front doors and the men slowly piling out, one by one.

"Well, guess he didn't get cold feet," Maria joked next to you as she fumbled with her earrings, but judging by the way her fingers shook, she was nervous.

You stood up to fuss with her hair, making sure the flowers that were carefully weaved in were still firmly in place.

"You look absolutely stunning," you told her warmly with a smile through the mirror. She took a deep breath and finally dropped her hands in her lap.

"Thank you. For everything. I know you got your own shit going on -"

"Nuh-uh, none of that. Today's not about me. It's about you and Tommy and I'm delighted you chose me to stand next to you today."

She smiled and reached behind her to squeeze your hand, which was curled around her shoulder. Tears welled up in her eyes and she nodded. Just one quick, definitive nod signaling the topic was closed, then stood up and brushed her hands over her dress.

"Well, let's go do this," she said, her voice wavering just a bit. The rest of the girls heard and cheered excitedly before scurrying around to check final touches on their makeup before filing out the door, where Michelle stood waiting.

"Ladies, the groomsmen just got in position and the groom is heading to the altar now. Maria, your father is waiting for you in the office. We'll hide you in there in case there's any late arrivals that might sneak a peek."

Once you all filed down to the foyer, you hung back to give Maria one last hug before she was whisked away into a small office where her father stood waiting with misty eyes.

When the door closed behind her, you gripped your pink and purple bouquet in one hand and gathered up the skirt of your peachy dress in the other and lightly jogged to catch up with the rest of the bridal party. When you turned the corner, everyone was finding their partner and whispering excitedly amongst themselves while Michelle walked around, making small adjustments to posture and checking everyone's teeth.

Joel turned around when he heard your heels clicking on the tile floor and couldn't stop his smile from spreading when he laid eyes on you.

"Sorry, just wanted to give her a quick hug," you said to him quietly as you took your place by his side. You were busy fixing your dress and batting pieces of hair out of your face so you didn't notice the way he was gazing down at you, temporarily spellbound.

"No problem," he finally managed to say, then caught Michelle making her way towards him so he quickly jut out his elbow for you to loop your hand through. After Michelle adjusted the placement of your bouquet and moved on, you finally glanced over, taking him in for the first time. He looked so fucking good, it was criminal. All the groomsmen were wearing the same tux, and all of them hand white button downs open at the collar with no tie, but Joel looked the best, by far.

Your mouth opened to tell him so, but at the last second you chickened out.

"Did you guys have a good morning?" you asked instead.

His eyes roamed leisurely over your face and the longer he took to answer, the faster your heart raced under his scrutiny.

"Yeah, it was alright," he finally said. Somewhere in the back of your mind you heard music begin to play and the first pair of the bridal party began to walk. "Wanted to catch you before you left this mornin' but you must've got an early start."

"Oh?"

He nodded slowly, eyes still trailing over you, admiring how beautiful you looked. He knew he was being obvious but he couldn't bring himself to care.

"Did you need something?" you asked, swallowing the lump in your throat. You knew you should have been paying attention, that you would miss your cue if you didn't, but you couldn't look away from his heated gaze.

"No, just..." he trailed off and took a deep breath, eyes momentarily fluttering closed before he reopened them. "You look really pretty."

Blood rushed to your cheeks and you smiled.

"T-thank you, you-"

"Best man, maid of honor, let's go!" Michelle whispered angrily, snapping you both out of your daze. Forcing a smile on your faces, you waited for your cue and began to walk up the aisle.

Aside from Maria, you two were the last to enter. The altar looked stunning. Not a single flower was out of place. The white rose petals the flower girl had scattered were evenly distributed along the deep red carpet that was laid over the grass to mark your way. You passed by rows and rows of friends and family, their faces lit up with excitement while the photographers bounced around in your peripheral vision, snapping pictures as you went.

When you reached the end of the aisle, Joel dropped your arm and you stepped apart, each taking your rightful place, just as you practiced.

The music changed and the doors opened, finally revealing Maria and her father. You glanced over at Tommy so you could see his reaction but your gaze locked with Joel, instead. His face softened and he shot you a secretive wink before dragging his attention to the bride.

The ceremony was beautiful. The sun was shining but it wasn't too hot. Both of them remembered the vows they wrote, bringing out the occasional laugh or tear from the guests. It made your heart swell to see your best friend so unbelievably happy. And when Tommy dipped Maria backwards for a dramatic first kiss, even Michelle cracked a smile from her place in the back.

After the ceremony, the wedding party was whisked away to take pictures while the guests enjoyed a cocktail hour back at the hotel ballroom. If you weren't in the pictures, you spent most of your time with the rest of the bridesmaids and occasionally stealing glances in Joel's direction when he wasn't looking. Shit, you hadn't even drank anything since you had a mimosa earlier that morning and you still couldn't keep your mind off him.

It didn't help matters when, at one point, the photographer asked for a picture of just you and Joel. Under the warmth from the sun, he had began to sweat a little. You could see it from the way the exposed patch of chest glistened and when you got closer to pose for the picture, his natural scent mixed with the hotel soap he must have used that morning filled your nostrils, making it difficult to focus.

"You got your speech all ready?" he asked once the photographer moved on.

"I think so. You?"

He nodded. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"We should probably do a couple shots first, loosen up," you joked, nervously twisting your hands together in front of you.

His face lit up and he unbuttoned his jacket. "Here," he said, handing you a small flask with his name engraved on it. "Gift from Tommy."

"Nice. All I got was this necklace," you said sarcastically with a laugh and a point to your neck before unscrewing the flask and taking a sip. The whiskey burned on the way down and you felt the warmth bloom in your stomach, your muscles instantly relaxing.

"Thank you," you told him, handing him the flask. His fingers brushed against yours briefly, sending sparks down your spine, and you quickly tugged your hand back, averting your gaze. "Oh, looks like your mom's up next. Might wanna head over."

He sighed and readjusted his jacket after pocketing the flask. "Duty calls, I reckon."

You nodded and pursed your lips, rocking back and forth on your heels. Why were you acting so weird? It was just Joel. But as you watched him stroll across the perfectly manicured lawn, you knew why.

After dinner and all the festivities were over, you were going to find the courage to finally tell him how you felt.

And you couldn't be more nervous.

It felt like dinner took forever. Michelle drilled into your head that your speeches would come after dinner and before the cake cutting, so naturally the entire time you were eating, you were a nervous wreck. Fortunately you were too nervous to even drink anything else past the small sip you had from Joel's flask, your stomach twisting in knots the longer it took for each table to get served. Tommy and Maria disappeared after they ate to greet each table and be back in their seats by the time dinner was finished, so you sat picking at your food with your heart hammering in your chest, scrolling the notes app on your phone, reviewing your speech.

"Nervous?"

You jumped at the sound of Joel's voice, who had somehow slid over to take Maria's chair without you noticing.

"That obvious?"

He shrugged and leaned back, surveying the ballroom.

"Your foot's tappin' so fast it's shakin' the damn table."

You giggled and dropped your face into your hands with a groan. He chuckled and took a sip from his glass of champagne, then paused when his eyes landed on an older woman at a nearby table looking in your direction.

"Who's that sittin' next to Maria's folks?"

You popped your head up and looked, then your face broke out with a wide grin. "That's my mom," you told him without taking your eyes off her, giving her a little wave. Joel looked back and forth between the two of you.

"You look alike, shoulda guessed."

"You think?" you asked, then your smile slipped when your mom pointed in Joel's direction and gave you a face before fanning herself with her open hand. You clenched your teeth and slashed your fingers in front of your throat, trying to tell her to knock it off, but she just laughed.

"Pretend you didn't see that."

"See what?" he replied innocently before giving your mom a charming smile and wave.

"Joel!" you exclaimed, smacking him in the leg. "Stop flirting with my mother!"

He threw his head back and laughed at that, his shoulders bobbing up and down and his hand clutching his stomach and just seeing him so happy and carefree made you smile and laugh, as well. Once he regained his composure he straightened up in his chair, his cheeks tinted pink and his eyes bright as he looked at you.

"Don't worry, baby, don't wanna make you jealous."

Your jaw dropped in shock and your brow furrowed but your heart fluttered excitedly in your chest at the term baby coming from his lips again. Before you even had a chance to formulate a response, he cleared his throat. "I'm just kiddin'. Tryin' to take your mind off the speech. Did it work?"

Did it work? This man had you spinning around in circles and he didn't even see it.

"Yes," you mumbled, mind still reeling. Baby, baby, baby.

"Good, 'cause we're up," he said, his eyes drifting over your shoulder, spotting the newlyweds heading your way. He stood and vacated the chair so Maria could sit back down.

You took a deep, shaky breath when the DJ cut the music and made the announcement that the speeches were to begin, and the whole ballroom fell silent, turning in their chairs to get a better look at the long table where you sat up front.

Joel went first, which initially you were relieved, but then about thirty seconds into his speech you realized you wish you could have just gone and gotten it over with because you could hardly focus on anything he was even saying. You faintly remembered him talking about growing up with Tommy and telling some embarrassing story that made everybody laugh but then ended up getting the guests teary eyed when he turned it around at the end, using the story as a sweet example of how Joel always looked out for him and he was now passing that torch onto Maria.

After a polite round of applause, Joel sat down and all eyes turned to you. The DJ told everybody your name, announcing you were the maid of honor, before walking over to hand you the microphone. You cleared your throat before standing on shaky legs and forcing a nervous smile for the room.

"Good evening," you began, then repeated your name. "I have not only the pleasure of being Maria's maid of honor, but also her best friend."

You stole a glance in her direction and you felt your nerves begin to subside when you saw the look in her eye and the warm smile stretched across her face.

With a deep breath, you confidently launched into your speech. You began by telling the guests how you met, how you bonded over one particularly painful meeting at work and afterwards got sushi together for lunch. Ordering the same dish by happenstance cemented your relationship and from then on you saw each other through countless breakups, illnesses, birthdays and even some vacations. After telling the room a silly story about a road trip the two of you took one year with no destination or goal in mind other than to have fun and live in the moment with the promise to stay close forever, you paused and looked down at Maria next to you.

"And then she met Tommy," you said, eyes drifting in his direction. "I knew from the day she came home and told me about him that he was different."

Tommy smiled and wrapped an arm around Maria's shoulders.

"I don't think I've ever seen two people more perfect for one another," you continued, turning your attention back to the room. "At the center of everything, they're best friends. They accept each other, faults and all." Tears began to well up in your eyes, trying not to draw comparisons to your own life as you pushed through. "And that's how I knew early on we would end up here today."

You looked back over at the newlyweds, Maria leaning into Tommy's shoulder, pure happiness radiating from them both as they gazed at one another.

Then you locked eyes with Joel and your throat went dry.

He was looking at you, hanging on your every word, and the expression on his face told you he must have been thinking the same thing as you. Unable to tear yourself away from the emotion behind his eyes, you continued your speech for the room, but it felt like you were talking directly to him.

"When two people love each other fiercely, when they're willing to do whatever it takes to make things work, when they learn to open their hearts and make sacrifices for the sake of that other person, their partner, their love... I believe that is what makes a relationship last." You dragged your eyes away from Joel and looked at Tommy and Maria once again. "And you've both proven time and time again you're more than capable of doing that for one another."

Maria swiped a tear from the corner of her eye and you picked up your glass, watching as the rest of the room did the same.

"I'd like to wrap up with this quote I found online, so I can't take credit," you said with a ripple of soft laughter echoing through the ballroom. "'Love is a friendship that has caught fire. So may your love burn bright for years to come'. Here's to my best friend and her new best friend."

After the room collectively toasted to the new couple and rewarded you with a round of applause, you slumped down in your seat with a sigh of relief. Maria tugged your shoulders, pulling you in for a hug that squeezed all the air from your lungs, whispering her thanks in your ear, then Tommy followed up with the same and a kiss on your cheek.

You tossed back the rest of your champagne and immediately looked around for a server to ask for more. Now that your nerves were finally at ease, you wanted to enjoy the rest of the party and relax, temporarily pushing the conversation you planned to have with Joel from your mind.

Tommy and Maria stood to go cut the cake, diverting the guests's attention so you could slip away to the bar with your empty glass. As you were leaning up against the bar, waiting for the bartender to refill your glass, you felt a familiar presence sidle up next to you. When Joel brushed his palm against your lower back, you had to suppress the shiver that tried to make it's way down your spine.

"Can I get one of those?" he asked the bartender when she returned with your drink. She nodded and placed a cocktail napkin on the bar before disappearing.

Joel's shoulder nudged against yours and he tilted his face towards you. "Nice speech."

You smiled and continued to stare down at the tiny bubbles rising and popping in your drink. "Thanks. Yours was good, too."

"Here you go," the bartender said, placing an identical glass next to yours. Joel nodded his thanks and lifted it up, raising it between your bodies for a toast. You obliged, gently clinking your flutes together before taking a small sip and turning around to look out over the ballroom. Across the way, Tommy and Maria were posing with their cake while photographers and guests took pictures.

"I liked that quote. 'Bout friendship that turns to love," he said nonchalantly. You bit your lower lip and tried to tamp down the rise of emotion in your chest, your nerves in desperate need of some rest.

"Yeah, I thought it was fitting."

Your eyes flickered to his, those deep brown eyes you'd had the pleasure of seeing in every shade, then to his mouth, his soft looking lips so inviting, you wondered what they tasted like in that very moment. Probably champagne, but you were willing to bet you would get a hint of chocolate from the wedding favors that were placed at every seat because you knew him well enough to know he couldn't resist sweets.

"You ever have that?" he asked, and you thought you could hear a little tremor to his voice. "Friendship that turns into love?"

Your heart hammered wildly in your chest as you took a shaky sip from your champagne, eyes now pinned on the newlyweds but you were hardly absorbing a thing that was happening. Your mind was racing with the implication behind his loaded question and you could hardly remember your own name.

Taking a deep breath, you answered him.

"Once," you said softly, then slowly turned your head, gazing up at his side profile while he appeared to be taking in the party, but you could see his pulse thrumming fast in his neck, his tanned skin twitching with every nervous beat of his heart. "You?"

He hummed and finally tilted his head in your direction, eyes drifting up and down your face, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "Yeah. Once."

You felt yourself practically melt under his gaze, your muscles going lax, your body being pulled like a magnet towards him. Was it too late? Did you miss your chance? Or was it possible something was still there, something that could be salvaged? Joel murmured your name, his hand rising from his side, and you had a feeling you were about to get your answer when a familiar voice shattered the moment.

"Joel! C'mon, take pictures with my phone while I dance with your brother. James can't see in this lighting, he won't get it right."

As Mrs. Miller got closer, she noticed you next to him for the first time and it was impossible to miss the look of regret on her face when she realized she interrupted your conversation.

"Oh, nevermind, I'll find someone else," she said, clutching her phone to her chest, eyes sliding back and forth between you both. You cleared your throat and stepped away with a smile.

"No, you go on. I have to find my mom and say hi."

Before he had a chance to stop you, you slipped away, weaving through the crowd until you disappeared from view.

"I'm sorry, honey. I didn't mean to intrude."

Joel shrugged and tossed back the rest of his champagne. "It's alright, Ma. Go dance with Tommy, I got it," he said, holding a hand out for her phone. Hesitantly, she placed it in his palm, then reassuringly rubbed her hand up and down his arm.

"Will you save me a dance for later?"

Joel gave her a pained smile and nodded. "'Course, Mama."

She pressed her lips into a thin line, easily picking up on her eldest son's dismay once you left. Right when they were about to reach the dance floor, she stopped and cupped Joel's face with both hands, looking up at him with an adoring smile.

"It's all gonna work out, honey. I promise."

Joel almost feigned confusion, almost put up his walls so to protect his feelings. But in that moment, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he sighed and nodded.

"I hope so."

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[yeoobiii]

⋆｡°✩ 𝙥𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙡 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙡𝙖𝙘𝙚

꩜ boyfriend!jake x afab!reader

꩜ established relationship, slightly suggestive

꩜ you ask your boyfriend to come on a shopping spree with you which leaves you not only unsatisfied but also a bit insecure. That is until an idea stuck you to turn the tide around and make this a successful trip nonetheless

or: you go lingerie shopping with your whipped boyfriend Jake

wc: 3.4k

warnings: slight voyeurism (?), nicknames like love, baby and puppy

a/n: technically it's pretty much gender neutral, it's just reader is trying on bras that's why I tagged it afab!reader but otherwise it's gender neutral! I don't think there are any major warnings for this one, it's pretty harmless, just you and your boyfriend Jake who has a hard time resisting you in cute lingerie, enjoy!

You look at yourself in the mirror and sigh, exhausted from changing in and out of your clothes for what felt like the 20th time today.

“Does it fit? How does it look?” You hear a familiar voice from the other side of the curtain call out to you.

You feel frustrated and frankly also a bit bad. All day you’ve been dragging your boyfriend around the city to look for cute new summer clothes and so far all you ended up with was a basic white crop top and a flowery skirt that you already regretted buying.

Your boyfriend keeps assuring you that he doesn’t mind hopping from one store to the next, taking small coffee or ice cream breaks in between. Also he himself seems to have been more successful in the search for some new pieces than yourself, seeing how the bags he insists on carrying around mainly contain things he has gotten for himself.

“I don’t know. It’s not really what I was looking for.” you almost whine, your patience running out, as you draw back the curtains to show your outfit to Jake.

His eyes roam your body up and down for probably the dozenth time today, taking in how the clothes look on you.

“Oh, babe.” He gets up from the makeshift changing room chair he’s been sitting on, stepping closer to you until he gently places his hands on your waist,

“What do you not like about it?” He inquires in an understanding, patient way.

You immediately welcome the comfort your boyfriend offers you, the skinship making your shoulders relax and lean your forehead against his shoulder defeatedly.

“It’s– I don’t know, it feels off. I don’t feel like myself in it.” You mumble into his shirt, “Maybe I’m the problem, like it seems like I’m not in the best headspace to do this today. I’m sorry I’ve been dragging you around the city all day for nothing.” You look back at him apologetically, a small pout on your lips and are greeted with the softest smile, his eyes kind and understanding.

“What are you apologizing for? I had a great day! We had a nice lunch, I got to see you in a bunch of cute clothes, I found some nice things for myself and we got bubble tea as well. Sounds like a successful day to me.”

As he’s reassuring you, he gently squeezes your waist. A small yet significant gesture because it makes you melt even more into his touch, helping you to ground yourself.

“But still…” you pout. You feel like you’ve wasted both of your days, a Saturday at that, beautiful weather outside, you could have done anything else.

Jake knew you were being hard on yourself because you were clearly frustrated and also probably didn’t feel the most confident today because according to him he’d have bought you at least half the stuff you tried on, because quote “you look good in almost everything, love.”

Just as you were about to give up and call it a day an idea struck you seemingly out of nothing. Your exhausted expression turned into a shy smirk and you could tell Jake was a bit confused for a second, waiting for you to share your thoughts with him.

“I think there’s one more thing I’d like to check out. Are you down?” you place your arms around Jake’s neck, the both of you now almost in an embrace as your smile only gets wider at your genius idea.

“Are you going to tell me what you have in mind?” He asks, his eyes glimmering with curiosity even though he knew you well enough after almost one and a half years of dating to have a slight idea of what you were getting at.

“It’s a surprise, but I have a feeling you’ll like it.” is all the information you give him and even though he raises a suspicious eyebrow at you, he agrees easily nonetheless and the both of you start to wrap things up at the current shop.

As you were done changing, Jake and you left the store without buying anything. Even though you were upset about the total failure that today has turned out to be just a few minutes ago, there seems to be no trace left of your past turmoil as you take Jake’s hand into yours and stride down the street, excitement bubbling in your chest.

Neither of you talk as you lead the way down the shopping street, since Jake knew he wouldn’t get more information out of you even if he tried and you were way too focused on your target to make casual conversation.

After a short 5 minute walk you stop in front of a very particular store that sells a very specific kind of clothing: lingerie.

“We’re here.” You grin at Jake, who needs a second to process what he’s looking at until his jaw goes slightly slack and he looks at you with big eyes.

“You want to go lingerie shopping with me?” He asks in slight disbelief.

Now, it’s not like Jake has never seen you in lingerie. The both of you have been dating for a while now and you like to surprise him from time to time with a new set, which you could always tell had an effect on him. The way you could physically see the thoughts leaving his brain as he admires how the lace wraps itself deliciously around your thighs and torso. You yourself enjoyed the sight of leaving your boyfriend dumbstruck, getting a slight ego-boost each time you see how much he wants you, even after being together for quite some time now.

You came up with the idea to take him here on a whim but you’ve been meaning to get a new set for a while now anyway, plus you thought maybe it could get your confidence back on track to try on various different kinds of lingerie with your boyfriend right then and there to see his reaction to each set.

“I mean why not? Might as well pick something out together, right?” You smirk at him playfully, knowing very well what kind of rollercoaster ride you were about to send him on.

“Right.” He confirmed, mind still processing what’s about to happen. He suddenly seems to snap out of it as he offers you his arm. “Shall we go in then?”

You nod at him enthusiastically as you take his arm and he leads you inside the store. You can tell from the moment you step inside that he’s utterly overwhelmed, his eyes roaming the store.

“Have you ever been in a lingerie shop before?” You ask him as you let go of his arm and start browsing through the different sets, bras and panties.

“Nah, this is a first for me.” He stammers as he keeps looking around, seemingly in awe with all the different options and colors.

“Really? None of your previous girlfriends have taken you lingerie shopping before?”

He just shakes his head, mouth slightly agape, still taking everything in. But you can tell he’s slightly intimidated, especially by the way he keeps avoiding direct eye contact with the saleswoman at the register.

You chuckle to yourself. You’re endeared at the sight of your boyfriend and how he seems to be completely out of his expertise, a look of awe on his face.

You know Jake really likes bralettes and so do you, so you scan the shelves for a cute set to try on, excitement bubbling in your chest as your eyes land on a pastel purple set with gorgeous flower lace and underwear that is silk and lace combined. You find one in your size and turn to your boyfriend who still hasn’t moved an inch since you entered the store.

“What about this one?” You call out to him, his head almost snaps from how violently he turns his head into your direction, almost like he just remembered you are actually here to buy something; for you.

His eyes land on the set you’re holding and you could swear his knees were about to give in.

Jake tends to be a really confident and assured guy and you love that about him. You love that he loves himself and is not afraid to show it, but there’s just something about flustered Jake that strikes a chord within you like no other version of your boyfriend and that’s why you’re currently enjoying this experience to the fullest. Something about him is irresistible when he has that pretty blush coloring his cheeks.

“This one?” He points at the purple set, eyes big. “Yeah, it looks- it looks really pretty.”

He comes over to you, taking the set from you and carrying it for you as you keep looking around the store as the gentleman that he is. You can tell he has a hard time meeting your eyes though, his cheeks slightly flushed; and you get it.

Usually, Jake only ever gets to see you in your favorite lingerie when it’s just the two of you, somewhere where you have your privacy, somewhere, where he doesn’t have to hide how much it affects him, seeing you like that, all pretty just for him.

Now, right here in the store, it’s different because you’re in public and he has to behave and keep his hands to himself. And it seems like he’s already mentally wrestling with himself at the prospect of that.

“Pick something out too, show me what you wanna see me in.” You tell him, almost too innocently.

Jake almost can’t believe what he’s hearing, he gets to choose… And suddenly he takes the task very seriously and wastes no time going around the store to look for something he’d think you’d look gorgeous in. It’s almost comical how determined he is all of a sudden, the thought of being able to choose something himself clearly spurring him on.

After the two of you look through the store for almost twenty minutes, sometimes on your own and sometimes you ask each other for the others opinion, you’ve put together a cute little collection consisting of the purple set you’ve set your eyes on first, a dark red bodysuit which Jake has picked out for you, a cute pair of light pink tap shorts with a suitable bra, also Jake’s choice and a pair of pretty tights you could attach to the underwear of your purple set.

Looking at everything you’ve gathered, you were very happy with your picks, also with Jake’s he has done a good job of combining your personal taste in lingerie with what he’d personally like to see you in.

You don’t waste anymore time and make your way over to the dressing rooms, telling Jake to sit down and wait real quick for you to try on the first set. From the corner of your eye you see his leg bouncing up and down due to nerves and anticipation and close the door to the cabin behind you.

You change into the purple set first and the moment you have it on you decide for yourself that coming here was the best decision you guys have made today because finally you felt good in something you tried on. None of the clothes you’ve changed in and out of the whole day have felt this good on your body and seeing the reaction of your boyfriend was just the icing on the cake.

“I’m ready.” You announce before you open the door to be instantly greeted by Jake’s waiting figure.

You tried to grasp Jake’s expression and couldn’t hold back the chuckle at the sight of his jaw going slack, his eyes scanning your body up and down, like he had done so many times today already, but this time was completely different. He seemed to completely soak up the way you look, making a mental image for himself.

Eventually he met your eyes and you swear you could see a slight blush creeping up his face again. He took a hesitant step closer to you, overcome by the urge to touch you but he stopped himself.

“I mean, wow. You look– you look really good, love” and you take his word for it because he can’t take his eyes off of you. The way the lace compliments your body perfectly, sitting tight in all the right places, leaving little to the imagination. You can also tell that he’s a little starstruck by the way he can’t bring himself to say anything else. It seems like you’ve left him speechless.

“Thanks.” You say casually, smiling and doing a little spin for him.

“So is this a yay or a nay?” You ask him as if you couldn’t judge by his expression alone.

“Yay!” He almost says too quickly.

“Definitely a yay.” He says a bit more calmly after he has catched himself.

“Ready for the next one?” You ask as you turn around to go back into the cabin.

“Just give me a few more seconds.” He said almost desperately and you can’t help but be completely endeared by him. The thought sinks in that he’s being like this because of you. It’s you who has turned this confident, usually loud guy into a stuttering mess. You’d lie if you’d say it doesn’t do things to boost your ego through the roof; to be admired like this by someone like your boyfriend, someone who’d clearly have no struggle getting any person he’d want to but he ended up falling for you and he made you feel so loved and appreciated every single day.

To be with Jake was like experiencing your first love all over again. It was exciting, but also calm when it was just the two of you and he brushed his hand through your hair gently while your head rested on his torso, enjoying the sensation of chest rising and sinking underneath you. But it was also the night outs, where he’d take you to places you’ve never been before and show you sides of yourself you didn’t know about yourself yet.

And through it all he held your hand, never once daring to let go. Sometimes you thought he might be worried you’d slip too easily from his grip, little did he know that he had secured you for life if he’d wanted to.

His eyes keep observing every curve of your body, every edge, every bump. You take a step towards him and place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“There’s more to come.” You whisper into his ear before you disappear back into the cabin and even though you can’t see it with your own two eyes, you can practically feel how your boyfriend is deflating on the other side of that door, folding into himself.

Next up you chose the tap shorts and the bra Jake picked out for you and even though it’s not something you’d usually go for you think it looks really cute, you can instantly see why your boyfriend would have picked this.

“I’m coming out” you say as you step out of the cabin for the second time and find your boyfriend in a similar state as before, but this time he starts fanning himself.

“It’s starting to get hot in here, isn’t it?” he jokes, fanning himself with a leaflet you got handed earlier in the day on the street.

Your boyfriend’s pupils are properly blown out right now and you can tell he has a hard time holding himself back. You start to think that he might actually really be into this, them being in public while his thoughts run wild, basically undressing you with his eyes.

“You’re evil, actually. Do you know that?” He says flustered but with his usual humorous undertone.

“Evil, huh?” Once again you step closer to him, brushing the collar of his shirt with your hand as if to wipe off dust, just so your hand could slowly travel down his shoulder, all the way down his arm, riling him up even further.

Jake can’t believe what he’s witnessing and he also can’t believe how much it’s affecting him, he can tell you’re playing with fire and it’d only need one word from you and he’d throw all his restraint out the window.

“So, I guess we’re getting this one as well?” You ask him, batting your eyelashes at him, trying to look innocent.

You don’t even wait for an answer from him as you once again disappear in the cabin, leaving behind a starstruck Jake, rendered speechless yet again.

The last thing for you to try on was the dark red bodysuit and you were actually quite excited for this one and you were even more pleased when it fit you perfectly. The moment you laid eyes on yourself you knew this was gonna be Jake’s last straw.

This time you didn’t warn him, as you stepped out of the cabin, presenting yourself one last time to your boyfriend who at this point looked like a starved animal.

It takes him a few seconds to fully take everything in until a look of defeat overcame him.

“That’s it, I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.” He overdramatized, throwing his hands up in defeat.

“You don’t like it?” You tease, feigning hurt, knowing exactly how to press his buttons.

“Evil.” He points a finger at you, “that’s what you are. God, baby, you look stunning, you know how hard it is to not touch you right now?” He steps closer as he puts his hands on your hips; a featherlight touch.

“I need you to behave just a little bit longer, can you do that for me?”

He buries his head in the crook of your neck and sighs deeply. “I’ll behave, but just know that it’s really hard to resist you when you look this good.”

“Poor puppy is having a hard time?” You tease him, enjoying yourself way too much and he can tell.

Jake only nods, his face still buried in your neck but you just know he’s flushed to the tip of his ears at your words, the grip on your waist getting rougher momentarily.

You process to peel him slowly off of you and are entirely satisfied with the small whine of protest that leaves your boyfriend’s lips at the distance you put between your bodies.

“So, I’d suggest I get changed really quick and we head home, yeah?”

Jake’s spirit lifts immediately at your suggestion and he nods. “And best believe we’re taking all of that with us.” He’s gesturing at the pile of lingerie that has accumulated on the stool of the cabin.

“Alright, alright, I heard you loud and clear. I’ll be out in a minute.” but before you turn around to change for the last time that day, you place a soft short kiss on Jake’s lips. It’s your way of saying thank you, because all day you haven’t quite felt like yourself and your confidence took a great hit at the fact that nothing you tried on seemed to look good on you, insecurities starting to manifest in your mind and therefore your mood sobering throughout your day.

Well, leave it to your flustered boyfriend and a lingerie store that now all of these worries are swept off of your mind and you end the day feeling on top of yourself again.

After the kiss, Jake smiles fondly at you, apparently having received the message you tried to deliver.

However, you made quick work of changing back into your clothes after that because you’d lie if you’d say your little trip to the lingerie store has left you completely unaffected.

Jake takes it upon himself to treat you and pays for everything you tried on, saying it’s “for the experience”.

There were no more pit stops after that, the both of you suddenly feeling the urge to be home as soon as possible, because if there’s one thing you both enjoy more than Jake admiring you in lingerie, it’s him taking it off of you.

hope you enjoyed! ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[a-leg-without-fear]

Flooded Red (pt.1)🩸🌧️

some lore for the reader character!! this takes place during the raid on the mansion in X2: X-Men United. please enjoy some Gore and some BAMF reader :)

Ship: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader

Rating: 16+

Wordcount: 4.7k

Warnings: gore, violence, Carrie-levels of blood, mentions of child abuse/abandonment, child endangerment, mentions of experimentation, depressive thoughts, drugging, choking, mentions of serious illness

Series: Flooded Red

You were no stranger to nightmares. Whether they were your own, making you toss and turn and wake up feeling exhausted, or Logan’s, leaving him shaking and panting. Yours were more infrequent than his. Every other night or so, your dreams were edged with that toxic darkness compared to his nightly torment. Anxiety-fuelled imagery that made your heart pump and your skin sweaty.

Tonight, it seemed, was your turn on the nightmare-express. Flashes of your life before joining Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters pierced your mind like a hot poker. Your father dying of polio, your mother abandoning you when your mutation showed itself, you begging for food on the side of the road for twenty years. 

In particular, one evening in the ‘50s decided to plague you. 

You, a 54-year old who appeared to still be twelve, were hunkered down in the abandoned building you called home. It was raining, humid summer air leaking in through the boarded up windows. Mildew spots covered the aged wallpaper. A distinct, old-house smell permeated the aged floorboards. 

You sat on your collection of moth-eaten blankets. An array of warm reds and cool blues created a cushy, makeshift bed that you spent your nights in. Pale orange filtered in from the streetlamps outside the abandoned house. You had tried your best to block out light by sticking newspapers to what windows weren’t covered by pine boards.

A group of men stood in front of you. Varying heights and weights. One had darker skin and cropped black hair, another had a neck tattoo and a cleft lip. Those two stood at the front of the pack of five. All wearing dark clothes and brandishing various household items as weapons. Steel pipes, wrenches, tire irons.

“You guys really don’t want to do this,” you squeaked out. You silently cursed your prepubescent voice. The man with the tattoo scoffed, squinted eyes peering around where you sat.

“And what’re you gonna do, pipsqueak?” he sneered. He smacked his palm with the pipe in his hands. The others moved to form a line next to him, blocking you from any exits.

“You’re not gonna like it,” you muttered under your breath. The man on the far right, blonde-haired and green-eyed, chuckled at you.

“You are the least threatening girl I-”

His words were cut short, breath caught in his throat. Your head was tilted as you focused. Dark eyes flooded red, blood overtaking the white, as your left arm raised toward the group.

Rough gurgles echoed from each man’s chest. Eyes wide with fear, skin flushing, lungs filled with liquid. Your lips spread into a knowing grin.

With one flick of your fingers, you made the men’s blood reach its boiling point. Explosions of crimson ichor burst from the five men. Skin split and flowered around large wounds. Bones cracked, limbs twitching and flailing.

One by one, each man fell to the ground. Bodies turned to sacks of flesh and organs. Blood seeped from the empty carcasses into the wooden floorboards.

Your smile remained stretched across your face. You hadn’t moved from your pile of blankets. Left arm covered to the elbow in blood, rest of your body clean, eyes returning to their normal ruby shade.

A piercing, world-shattering scream broke you from the shackles of your nightmare. You darted up, chest heaving, hands covering your ears to shield yourself from the noise. Glancing briefly at your own body, you were met with your adult self. Your wide eyes looked up and darted around your room.

The left side of your bed was empty. Sheets bunched up by your knees, pillow ruffled. Results of Logan sharing your bed. Yet the grouch was nowhere to be seen. You looked up to the door hoping to see him standing there.

Instead, your eyes landed on three heavily armed men. Covered in kevlar, bullet-proof vests, thick helmets. Each one having several guns attached at various points on their bodies. They were hunched over, hands over their ears, occasional grunts coming from beneath black, cloth masks.

Ignoring the scream that jabbed your eardrums when you lowered your hands, you scrambled out of bed. Your socked feet slid slightly on the hardwood floors as you dashed to the doorway. 

Just as suddenly as it had begun, the screaming stopped. You shook your head and blinked a few times. You took the chance you saw before you while the armed men reoriented.

A sharp jab to the front man’s jaw, his head ricocheting back, and a swift kick to his stomach sent him careening back between the other two. You couldn’t stop to check if he was out yet. You swiveled on your backfoot to the man on the right. Grabbing the sides of his helmet, you yanked his head down and connected his eye socket with your knee. You punched him in the temple for good measure as he fell to the floor.

The last man raised his machine gun to your torso. You paused briefly, eyeing the man up and down, then dropped to your knees as gunshots ringed over your head. You lunged forward at the man’s legs and knocked him to the ground. A strong kick to the face and he was out.

Breathing heavily, you clambered to your feet. Your gaze landed on the wooden door behind you. You expected to see bullet holes and splintered shrapnel. Instead, three small, white darts were embedded in the wood grain. You plucked one from the door to inspect it.

Right when the dart was lifted to your face, thick arms wrapped around your neck. Kevlar vest met your t-shirt clad back as the man who you’d failed to check choked you. Your breath came out ragged and strained. You tried to stomp back on the man’s feet, but he just stepped out of the way. Your vision was growing blurry around the edges.

“Stupid fucking mutant,” the man huffed in your ear, every word laced with malice and hate.

In a last ditch attempt, you took the dart still clutched in your fingers and stabbed it into the man’s arm. A string of pained curses left the man’s mouth as he released you. You stumbled forward, chest heaving to recover lost air, as you pivoted to face your attacker.

The man blindly grabbed at the dart in his forearm. He stumbled back, body connecting with the wall behind him, then started sinking to the floor. His head lolled to the side.

Huh, tranquilizers, you thought.

You hardly had time to assess your situation as you heard scuffling down the hall. Dozens of thick boots stepping quietly across the hardwood floor. When you listened closer, you heard the clatter of guns in gloved hands.

An involuntary growl left your chest. These men were here for the kids. Your kids. The kids you’ve helped teach and care for and raise. Flashes of fiery anger licked up your chest. You knelt and tore one of the machine guns filled with darts away from the unconscious men.

You kept low to the ground as you peered out of your bedroom doorway. A larger group of kevlar-clad men, about eight strong, were walking away from your room and toward the edge of the mansion. You nestled the stock in your shoulder and aimed at the group.

Muffled, quick shots echoed from the rifle as you shot at the men, each bundle of three darts connecting with a limb. Helmets clattered on the floor as the men collapsed. They had no time to register where the shots were coming from before they laid in an unconscious heap on the floor.

You threw the empty gun to the floor as you stood. You hated guns. Hated what they represented, the violence they caused, the people who wielded them. It was a very rare circumstance that placed a gun in your hands.

A chorus of children’s screams came from the hallway behind you. Terrified, heart-wrenching, utterly fearful. Pure, unbridled rage tugged at your chest. You could feel red coat the edges of your eyes. Blood seeping into the whites to make you look like some kind of demon.

You turned and walked briskly down the hall. Hands clenched in fists at your sides, pulse beating rapidly beneath your skin, eyes clouded in a flaming scarlet.

When you approached the next group of men, this group being six strong and standing outside Ryan and Addie’s room, your mind seemed to click off. All you could see was red, all you could hear was your own pulse in your ears, all you could taste was fresh blood coating your tongue. 

Your body wasn’t your own. Fingers twisted and manipulated the pumping blood beneath the men’s skin. Bubbling and boiling the flowing ichor until each man froze where they stood. Twitching and shaking, eyes crying scarlet and mouths leaking red. Another flick of your fingers and they exploded into clouds of steamed blood. Crimson coated your entire body, leaving you drenched in the men’s remains.

Six men. Turned into empty skins and abandoned organs. Blood seeping into the hardwood floor. Dead.

Your vision came back to you. Gasping breaths left your throat in short bursts. Warm liquid beaded on the sides of your face and dripped down your skin. Your clothes were utterly drenched, your hair plastered to your scalp, feet submerged in a puddle of red.

It had been so long since you’d lashed out like that. Mind going blank and fingers acting of their own accord. Since that night in the abandoned house, you’d kept your wits about you. Always resorting to hand-to-hand or to weapons if the need presented itself. You never used your mutation if you could help it.

You felt ashamed. These six men were just doing as they were told. They were only following orders. No one, not even the worst humans, deserved to die like that.

Before the panic could grip you in a chokehold, another group of booted footsteps came from down the hall. A small voice echoed in the back of your mind. The kids. Protect the kids. Whatever it takes. How could you refuse, when the children were your life? Your reason for being?

You splashed through the puddles of blood as you moved down the hall. Eyes flooded red, fingers twitching at your sides, anger gripping your chest in a vice. You weren’t yourself anymore. You weren’t the art teacher the children loved, the friend that the X-Men laughed with, or the lover Logan had grown to know.

All you were was a burning, churning whirlpool of fiery hate. Flames licked at your lungs, filling each breath with fire. Swirling images of corpses at your feet filled your stomach to the brim.

“There’s another one! Wait… holy shit!” yelled out from in front of you. You cocked your head as you observed this new group of men.

Ten strong, all clad in kevlar and vests, all pointing their rifles loaded with tranquilizer darts at you. You could see a shake in their hands as they took in the sight of you. Eyes flooded red, blood seeping through your hair and into your clothes, feet tracking crimson in their wake. If there was a physical embodiment of Carrie, you fit the bill.

“D-Don’t move!” called the trembling voice again. Guns clicked in gloved hands as the safeties were switched off. You could see every hand had a finger resting on a trigger.

Your right hand twitched, fingers curling, as a manic grin overtook your stoney expression. These men, these infiltrators, were giving you commands? Were demanding you stand down as they took your children away? These puny, insignificant men were instructing someone with the power to kill them in a single motion? The thought made you laugh under your breath.

“Or what?” you said back. Red dots centered on your chest as every man aimed at you. Another chuckle flitted through your lips, “Good luck with that.”

Dozens of gunshots ringed out through the hallway as dart after dart embedded in your chest. Clusters of white needles protruded from your blood stained shirt. You glanced down at the intrusions to your bloodstream. A tired edge overtook your mind as the tranquilizers pumped their chemicals into you. 

You gripped the darts and ripped them from your chest. A cacophony of clatters bounced back to the men as the darts fell to the floor. You shook your head to rid yourself of the chemicals threatening to knock you out. 

“Wanna try that again?” you asked, every word dripping in sarcastic confidence. 

Before the men could reload and obey your request, you raised your left hand to the group. Your senses focused on the blood pumping through their scared little hearts. Cortisol coursed through each man’s veins. Pathetic.

A twitch of your fingers made their hearts careen to a stop. Blood froze in their veins, oxygen being deprived from their lungs, eyes widening and limp hands clutching at their throats. It only took a few moments for them to collapse to the floor.

You breathed a humorless laugh at the mess of corpses in front of you. Who did they think they were, to challenge you like that? Especially after they saw that their darts didn’t work. You tilted your head side to side as you stretched out your neck.

“Vampire?” a small voice said from behind you. You turned to the source, fingers twitching in preparation. Whoever this new threat was, you’d deal with it quickly.

Regret filled your stomach like a lead ball when your eyes landed on Addie and Ryan. They stood, hand in shaking hand, feet soaking in the puddles of blood, wide eyes looking up at you. Your breath left your lungs in one sharp gust.

“Are you okay?” Addie asked, being the one who’d said your nickname before. She tucked a strand of platinum blonde hair behind her ear. You sank to your knees before the siblings.

“I… Yeah, I’m okay,” you sighed. You squeezed your eyes shut, clearing your head of the hatred it was filled with. When you opened them again, Ryan stood before you. His blue eyes looked you over with a deep concern crinkling in the corners.

“You sure? You’re pretty bloody,” he said. You wiped at the blood covering your face. It was no use, your hands being equally drenched.

“Is it your blood?” Addie questioned from behind her brother. You shook your head.

“No. No, it’s not. Are you guys okay?” you asked, desperate to shift the attention from yourself. Both children nodded. You gave them both a once over. Their hair was ruffled from sleep, hems of their pajamas and white socks soaked in the blood covering the floor, wide eyes looking to you for reassurance. You cleared your throat, “Did those guys hit you with anything?”

Both siblings shook their heads. You breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Alright. Let’s get you to the passageway on this floor. Ryan, You’ll be right behind me. Protect your sister,” you instructed. The kids nodded their heads again. You stood before them, giving yourself a look up and down. 

You looked horrifying. Once white t-shirt and green shorts were drenched in thick blood. Your hair clung to the sides of your head. Rivulets of crimson leaked down your bare legs and arms. 

Yet, when your gaze met the kids’, they looked at you with nothing but adoration. How could they look up to someone as terrifying as you? Someone who just killed sixteen fucking people? What would that teach them?

You squared your shoulders, pushing your insecurities down as far as they could go, and started leading the kids back down the hall. Your knees were bent as you kept low to the floor. You would pause every few moments to listen to the mansion around you. More gunshots from the floor below you, screams of terrified children, grunts and yells from the men in kevlar. You kept your mind from wandering to that rage and continued to lead Addie and Ryan to safety.

Relief flooded your lungs when you saw a group of children, led by Piotr, standing by this floor’s escape passageway. You straightened your posture. Addie and Ryan ran ahead of you to reconnect with their classmates.

“How many do you have?” you called over the swarm of scared children. Piotr, an older student whose skin could turn to metal, looked up at you from directing kids through the narrow doorway. His eyes widened at the state of you.

“Uh… Twelve, I think,” he replied. He ushered Addie and Ryan through the door, then turned to you, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you said through gritted teeth. Your shoulders seized when you heard heavy boots across the hall from you. Piotr looked over his shoulder, having also heard the approach.

Logan turned the corner. White tank top bunched around his midriff, jeans torn around his thighs, dark hair mussed from its two points. He held a knocked-out Jones, a young brunet who could manipulate electrical frequencies, in his arms. His hazel eyes glanced at you then fixed on Piotr.

“Hey, take him. He’s stunned,” Logan said, handing Jones over to Piotr. The larger boy held Jones tight against his chest. 

Just as Logan was turning to you, Piotr called out, “I can help you!” Logan looked back at Piotr. He pointed down the passageway, then said, “Help them.”

Piotr nodded at Logan, ducking into the doorway and sealing the passageway behind him. Logan suddenly grabbed your shoulders in both of his hands. You met his frantic eyes, narrowed lids shadowed by his furrowed brow.

“What the hell happened to you? Why are you covered in blood?” he asked. 

“I’m fine, Lo. It’s not my blood,” you said, shrugging his hands off your shoulders. His indignant reply was cut off when you both heard movement around the corner. 

Logan shoved you behind him as you both approached the corner. He pushed on your shoulder so you could squat next to him. His sturdy arm held you against the wall at your backs.

“Stay here,” he breathed into your ear. You nodded once in acknowledgement. Logan nodded back, then turned his attention back to the approaching group. 

You focused on lifting the blood from your shirt. Beads of crimson drifted away from your body and floated in the air before you. Your fingers twitched and the beads crashed into each other. Blood cell on top of blood cell, stacking together and forming a sharp lance the length of your forearm. One last flick of your wrist and the iron in the blood hardened the lance. A solid, red, metal weapon fell out of the air and into your open palm. At least you were significantly less bloody now.

Logan watched you out of the corners of his eyes. An air of admiration crossed his face. 

The brief moment was interrupted as a combat boot landed by Logan’s knees. Logan’s chest rumbled a deep growl, his claws shinking out of his knuckles, as he lunged forward and stabbed his right claws through the toe of the boot. A pained cry fell from the kevlar wearing man. Logan leapt to his feet as he plunged his left hand into the man’s stomach, shoving them both around the corner and out of your sight.

You remained crouched, back leaning against the wooden wall. Loud pops of gunfire echoed around you. Real guns, loaded with bullets instead of darts. Sharp cracks pierced the air as bullets flew in rapid succession toward Logan. A few bullet casings landed, smoking, by your feet. 

Light beamed from the dropped flashlight that rolled into view. Spurts of blood coated the tool in red jets. You spun the lance a few times in your hands, waiting.

“Clear,” Logan called. You pushed yourself upright and rounded the corner. About a dozen men, all clad in the same dark kevlar, lay dead at Logan’s feet. His chest was heaving, eyes darting to and from each man’s face, fists still clenched with claws poking out between his knuckles.

“All good, Lo?” you asked. His claws fully retracted as he met your gaze. He gave you a sharp nod then turned on his heel. You picked your way through the bodies, accidentally kicking a few limbs here and there, as you followed after him. 

“You never answered my question,” Logan said. You caught up with him and met his fast pace down the hallway. The two of you jogged while you tried to ignore his question. A few moments passed, the clipping of Logan’s boots on the floor being the only noise between you.

“I snapped,” was your quiet response. Short, simple, to the point. And it was all Logan needed. He threw you another quick nod while you two approached the balcony overlooking the mansion’s foyer.

Bright lights shone on Rogue, Bobby, and John as they stood below the balcony. All in their sleep clothes, all looking absolutely terrified. A guttural yell came from Logan as he leapt over the railing and dived into the four men aiming rifles at the older students.

You were about to follow when the back of your head was grabbed, a rough hand shoving your face into the railing and knocking your forehead on the wood. Spiked pain shot through your head, your knees crumpling beneath you. The hand tangled in your hair remained.

“Got the bloody one,” the man gripping you called behind him. You scratched at his hand as you tried to free yourself.

Slicing claws through flesh and pained yells soared over the balcony from the floor below. Your dazed mind tried to comprehend what was happening around you.

Some of the kevlar-clad men stood around you. Five, or was it seven, surrounded you with the muzzles of their guns aimed at your woozy form. Your head was utterly spinning. Nausea flooded your stomach and sent you reeling. If it weren’t for the gloved hand in your hair, you’d be sprawled out on the floor.

“Vampire!” Bobby called. You could just barely see his face through the bars of the railing. Wide, blue eyes glanced between you and the men surrounding you. He threw a hand up in your direction, “Duck!”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You yanked your head away from the man above you and dove to the floor. Just as your hands covered the back of your head, a biting chill filled the air above you. Wave after wave of flowing ice coursed over the balcony. You shivered from where you laid on the floor.

“C’mon!” John yelled up at you. You peered at the men who held you captive. All of them were coated in a thick layer of ice, skin turned pale and blue, joints frozen in place. Living ice sculptures. 

You pushed yourself to your feet, ignoring the sway in your motion, as you prepared to vault over the railing. Just as you had swung your leg over the wood banister the front door burst open, streams of LED lights illuminating the four mutants below you.

Logan motioned for you to stay where you were, looking you up and down, then ushered Rogue, Bobby, and John further into the mansion. Dozens of men followed in their wake.

You, not being one to listen to instructions very often, crept along the banister until you reached the stairs. Lucky for you, your socked and soaked feet wouldn’t make much noise on the hardwood. You snuck down the stairs while listening to the kevlar-clad men flood through the front door. When you reached the bottom you paused. Squatted, lance clutched in both hands, waiting for the last of the men to pass.

Once you saw a break in the stream of soldiers, you dashed between shadows while trailing after Logan. Keeping out of sight, ducking beneath flashlight beams, sneaking around corners. 

“You want to shoot me? Shoot me!” you heard Logan yell down the hall from where you were. You picked up the pace. Soaked feet slapping against the wood floors, clubbing soldiers on the head as you passed with the blunt end of your lance to knock them out, racing to try and prevent Logan and the others from getting hurt.

“Don’t shoot him!” a male voice yelled. You slid around the last corner and found a cluster of kevlar-clad men. All with their rifles and flashlights pointed at Logan down the hall. You froze in place, breath held. One of the men stepped forward, a flashlight held aloft in his gunless hands. He moved to stand in the middle of the rest of the men, “Not yet.”

You slipped behind one of the giant vases scattered throughout this hallway. Tucking yourself into the long shadows thrown by the large piece of pottery, your head just barely poked out to watch the scene unfold.

“Wolverine? Well, I must admit, this is certainly the last place I’d expect to find you,” the unarmed man said. He took a few more steps forward. Logan watched his approach, confusion written in his knitted brows. The lone man chuckled, “How long has it been? 15 years? You haven’t changed one bit. Me, on the other hand…” the man trailed off. He stopped a few feet in front of Logan and gestured to his own face, “...nature.”

You didn’t like this. The man in front of Logan gave you a bad feeling. Like shocks of anxiety pricking over your hypersensitive skin. You gripped your lance tighter in your hands.

Logan’s claws retracted back between his knuckles. Narrowed, hazel eyes analyzed the man standing in front of him.

“I didn’t realize Xavier was taking in animals,” the man said with a laugh. He adjusted the glasses sitting on the bridge of his wide nose, “Even animals as unique as you.”

“Who are you?” Logan asked. His hands remained clenched at his sides.

The man laughed again, “Don’t you remember?”

Logan stared at the man, mouth agape. He took a few steps forward.

You’d had enough. This man, whoever he was, wasn’t going to talk Logan into… whatever it is this guy was trying to do.

You darted out from behind the vase, lance brandished in your hands. Your head cocked as you sent the weapon soaring through the air. One of the kevlar-wearing men to your right gasped as the lance speared through his back and exited from the center of his chest. You focused on the lance as it flew from one man to the next. Sailing through the air until it pierced the men’s abdomens and sent them careening to the floor.

Every gun pointed in your direction. Some men holding rifles containing darts, others aiming real guns straight at you. You paused mid-step.

Your gaze met Logan’s. Recognition flashed in his widened eyes. He took another step forward, this time toward you.

Ice crackled on the walls of the hallway. Large snowflakes linked together as they stretched the width of the hallway and formed a wall. The ice solidified, creating a transparent, blue blockade between you and Logan.

“No, no!” Logan yelled from his side of the wall. He pounded desperately on the ice.

The unarmed man turned to face you. He was older, hair graying and beard wiry. Black glasses framed his squinted, blue eyes. You shifted your weight between your feet.

“Hello, my dear. You must be the one called ‘Bleeder,’” he said. Your posture stiffened at the name. You felt your jaw clench.

“I haven’t been called that in a long time,” you replied. God, if it weren’t for the guns pointed at you, you’d have skewered this man ages ago.

“And yet it was your moniker all the same,” the man said. His boots clicked against the hardwood as he approached you. Thick coat covering his torso, gloved hands clutched behind his back. He stopped a few paces in front of you. His hooded eyes passed over your blood-covered form, “I believe I have use of you. Take her.”

The familiar pop of the dart-filled guns rang out as you were peppered with white needles. Dozens and dozens of pinpricks filled your chest. You gasped, falling to one knee. The edges of your mind began to cloud with a foggy haze.

“Vampire!” you distantly heard Logan yell. You felt the floor sway beneath your feet. Your hands planted on the hardwood when you fell forward.

“That’s it. Off to sleep, Bleeder,” the man said above you. You threw him one last hate-filled glare, then collapsed as the tranquilizers overtook your senses.

some looooooooooore for reader!!! hope y'all enjoyed. and what a cliffhanger, huh?