#the way they'd go through hell and back for each other | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

arcadia-of-pluto · 3 months ago

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Casually calling them "daddy" LADS

Word count; 1,913

Themes; slightly barely there suggestive content, fluff, established relationship

Warnings; mention of "daddy" ofc, fluff

Notes; So these turned out more fluffy than I originally intended...honestly, thought they'd be more smutty, but I've learnt that it's really difficult for me to write smut. Or at least, smut with little to no context before it all goes down. I might eventually write some smuttier drabbles, but regardless of smut, I hope you enjoy this little thing I wrote!

You saw that there was an old trend about calling your boyfriend “daddy” and videoing their reaction so, obviously, you wanted to give it a try…

Xavier

It's been almost a year since you and Xavier started dating– and it was a wonderful eleven months! He told you everything about himself. What his future with you was like, all of his feelings throughout the centuries, and you listened. You wholeheartedly believed him, because it would be one hell of a lie if it wasn't true…and you didn't think Xavier had the time or energy to come up with a complex lie like that.

But even if you now know, time moves on. There's not much you can do about your future self, so you can't really change the future in that way though…Xavier's here now, in the past, and that's all that matters to you.

Anyway, today was just a normal day as any.

You were sitting at the counter, keeping a close eye on Xavier– who was attempting to follow, yet another, cooking tutorial. The man was desperate to cook a decent meal for you. His heart dead set on making you something edible for your upcoming year anniversary…and while that was cute, you also wanted to mess with him.

You push your cup just out of your reach and make a big show of trying to reach for it, before sighing loudly.

“Daddy, can you pass me my drink please?”

You can hear the clang of a spatula hitting the floor and you watch Xavier’s body comically whip around to face you.

“What?” His head cocks to the side as his wide eyes were set on your face. “Say that again..”

“Hmm? I said ‘Xav, can you pass me my drink, please’.” You copy his head tilt and he quickly shakes his head.

“No, no you didn't.” He takes a few steps toward you before grabbing your hand in-between both of his. “Say it again.”

You couldn't resist his sweet puppy dog eyes, so you hold back a smile as you meet his eyes. “I...called you daddy.”

“Really?” He seems unusually excited. “So are we…?” His gaze lowers to your stomach and you can’t help the giggle that slips from your lips.

Gosh, he was so cute.

“Baby– no, no. We're not pregnant.” You run your fingers through his hair with a smile on your lips. “Are...you disappointed?”

“Mmh..” Xavier hums thoughtfully for a moment before he shakes his head. “No. We can just make it a reality later. No need to rush.”

Zayne

You and Zayne have only been dating for six months, but it felt like much longer. Having known each other since you were little, you both had always been close– well, your definition of close and his were probably different. You always thought of him as a friend while he tried to keep a distance and thought you hated him. But time brought you both back together with him as your primary care physician.

The two of you had been flirting up until his birthday and finally made it official once he blew his candles out on the cake you made for him. It was a sweet time, but that was six months ago.

Now, though, you really want to fluster the man.

He always embarrasses you and makes you feel nervous, but you never get to see him that way. Sure, his ears will turn red and sometimes he won't meet your eyes when you get too intense with him, but you've never seen him absolutely shocked. And you just wanted to see one look of surprise from him.

So, what did you decide to do?

You decided to casually call him "daddy” as a joke.

That should definitely go over well.

Zayne is seated behind his desk at the hospital, sorting through papers as you longue on his sofa. Your eyes continuously glancing toward the windows to make sure the door was shut and the blinds were closed.

“If you keep staring at the door, you just might burn a hole through it.” Zayne says, though he didn't even look up from his paperwork. He was attentive like that and probably already knew you wanted something or you were ready to go home. And he was right.

“When are we going home…daddy?” You ask as you kick your feet in the air behind you. You were on your stomach, resting your cheek against your arms as you watched his expression…which didn't change at all.

"Just give me a few more minutes, angel, and I'll be done.” Zayne pushes his glasses up with his index finger and clicks his pen, jotting down a few notes.

“I–” You puff your cheeks out with a small sigh and decide to keep going with it. “I want to go home now, daddy.”

“Didn't I just tell you to be patient?” Now Zayne finally looks up at you with one of his brows raised. “I'll deal with you when we get home.”

Rafayel

It's been four months since Rafayel asked you out. Four months since you tugged Rafayel down into the bath with you, which set off a chain reaction of a steamy night, followed by him asking you out the next morning; he also complained that you both went out of order, but he wasn’t too upset when you continued where you left off…

Now, though, you moved out of your apartment and to Rafayel's home, ‘Mo Art Studio’ at Whitesand Bay.

It was definitely odd at first, but it was a good change of pace. Always being by the ocean, able to take your morning walks together on the beach and collect seashells. You had a whole collection on your desk at work. He'd always give you the most unique and prettiest shells, saying “only the best for his cutie”.

He was also so easy to fluster.

You immediately knew you had him wrapped around your finger every time his ears would turn red. That same crimson slowly made its way from his ears to his cheeks, all the way to his whole face. So you assumed your little ‘prank’ would also have the same effect.

You were sitting on a beach towel in the sand with an umbrella blocking your eyes from the bright sun. In front of you was Rafayel, painting your visage, with an easel. His hand deftly moves across the canvas as he sketches the outline for his new painting.

Lately, you are the only thing he can paint. Always asking you to stop what you're doing so he can run and get his sketch pad. You could be doing something so normal and mundane, but he'd be struck with the inspiration to record your very image.

As much as you loved it and thought this was very sweet, after almost two weeks of this…You wanted some form of payback.

“Hey, daddy, can we take a break for a second? It’s really hot out here.” You squint your eyes to try and see Rafayel's face, your hand fanning at your body because you, seriously, are hot out here.

“Huh?”

It's like Rafayel is frozen in time, or buffering. He's just blankly staring at you with a confused expression on his face until his pencil drops into the sand. That's when he quickly stands up and makes his way toward you.

“Again.”

Now, it's your turn to be confused.

“Raf, what–”

“Not that, say the other word again.” His ears were red as he crouched down in front of you, a look of determination in his eyes.

“No– you're making it weird!” You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to put some distance between him as your face turns red.

“Please, I really need to hear you say it again! I'm seriously going to die if you don't.” There's your overdramatic fishy.

“Fine, but just this once.” You grumble, turning your head to look away from him. “Daddy…” Though you say it as low as you can and Rafayel groans, tilting his head back.

“Louder.” He rests his forehead against yours. “Come on, cutie. If you don't…I might want to change that to my new nickname.”

Sylus

It's been about…a year? Yes, definitely a year since you and Sylus started dating. Well, you both have differing opinions on when exactly you started dating. Sylus claims it was the moment he laid eyes on you in the N109 Zone, while you claim it was only about six months ago– which is when you and Sylus made a bet.

It was a bet where if he came back safely from his mission, he'd leave you alone. He wouldn't bother you anymore, wouldn't talk to you, contact you, anything of the sort…and you won, but you didn't realize he'd actually do it. So whenever you seeked him out to make sure he was safe, and he ignored you, you realized that maybe you did want him in your life.

This led to you running across the street to him and jumping into his arms like this was a hallmark movie, and you claim this was when you officially started dating Sylus.

But between us, you just agree with Sylus when he says a year, because if you don't, he'll pout for the whole day.

...And today was one of those ‘pouty Sylus’ days.

You went on a mission that was probably way too dangerous, even though you told Sylus you were going to slow down on your Hunter's work. But you couldn't just ignore endangered civilians. If any of them would have died, that would've been too much for your sympathetic heart to handle.

And even if Sylus understands your reasoning, he's still upset that you left without telling him– having woken up to a cold bed without you by his side sent him spiraling into a panic.

So, when you got home, you noticed he was sulking in the kitchen as he made dinner.

“Sy…” You take your shoes off by the door, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you tentatively walk into the kitchen. Standing behind the counter, you sigh, “I'm reeaally sorry...”

“If you're reeaaally sorry, then help me make our dinner.” He says, not looking up at you and that doesn't make you feel any better.

“Okay..” You finally step past the counter and you look around. “So…what do you need?” You were trying to figure out something– anything that could make Sylus feel better when a thought comes to your mind.

Most guys probably like it when their girlfriend calls them daddy…right?

“In the cabinet, top shelf. I need a bottle of garlic powder.”

Okay, you got this.

You take a deep breath and open the cabinet, straining your arm to try and reach the seasoning bottle, but your fingertips barely brush it and knock it over. “Shit…” You swallow back your nervousness before continuing, “Daddy, can you grab it for me?”

The room fills with silence for a moment, but then you hear Sylus chuckle.

“Sure, kitten.”

Your back suddenly feels warm as a firm chest presses against it and Sylus reaches up from behind you to grab the bottle.

“I ask you to do one simple thing and you can't even do that.” Sylus chides, clicking his tongue as he pops the bottle open to pour some into the pan on the stove.

“Da–”

“If you think a few empty words will make me feel better, kitten…you've got to try a lot harder than that.”

I'd like to say, this is definitely one of my better drabbles– one of my favorites, in fact!

I have like...six more ideas for drabbles and then I'll need to come up with some more. Like these new cards and Rafayel's student photoshoot event really had me thinking of how seriously the LADS men would take roleplaying– and that spawned a whole different drabble idea, so you can definitely look forward to that!

I'm trying to come up with new ways to do my drabbles, so that's why I did a little prelude before I started writing for the guys. Please let me know any feedback yall have for me! Especially with the coloured dialogue, I'm not too sure if I like it, but it seems really pretty and probably makes it easier to tell who is talking apart. (I won't use it for my fic though, only the drabbles!)

Anyway, I have a small personal project I'm working on this weekend so I probably won't be able to write any chapters for my 'Divisa' fic, but I'm still going to post chapter nineteen of 'Twist of Fate' and try to write at least two more chapters since I'm only on twenty-three or so.

I hope you all enjoyed these drabbles and I hope yall have a great night/day! 🩷

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foldingfittedsheets · 10 months ago

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Hands down one of my worst experiences in high school was when the seniors decided to extort the entire school by using tactics that were banned by the UN to get them to pay for the senior party! If that sounds like a wild sentiment stay tuned because this shit got crazy.

I was living in Arizona at the time and I was a freshman. Our campus was largely open air, with walks between class room buildings and some covered outdoor tables. Our event began with a morning announcement. The seniors were collecting donations for the senior party, and when they reached their goal, their fundraising method would stop.

Their fundraising method:

To pipe the entire schools speakers with "If You're Happy and You Know It" on loop. To this day, I cannot hear this song without experiencing a degree of rage and madness that is frankly alarming. One of the worst parts of the entire thing was that the recording they chose had the female singer do a little clap and say "Yay-ha-hey," at the end. So it wasn't just the song, it was this awful little cooldown stinger at the end.

If this sounds a lot like psychological torture you'd be extremely correct! This practice has been banned in some countries, but the good old US hasn't ruled it a human rights violation, and what a fun silly way to raise money, that definitely wasn't damaging to adolescent psyches!

Every morning for 15 minutes before school began, every passing period, every lunch, and after school for another 15 minutes they blasted that fucking song on unceasing repeat through every speaker in the school. Everyone found different ways of coping with this and mine was to observe my classmates descent into madness and categorize the stages.

The first stage was almost completely consistent, and it was a smug almost exasperated eye rolling phase. Often accompanied by derisive comments about the song or the tactic, this phase was extremely mildly annoyed. Most people figured it would blow over soon, and no one anticipated this continuing for a week and a half, creating a miasma of fraught tension.

The second phase was elevated annoyance, starting to snap and be less amused characterized this level of irritation. People would try to cover their ears or put on headphones, humming aggressively to block out the syrupy repulsive children's performer with her loathsome little clap. This phase had people picking their absolute least favorite part of the song. Her inflection on certain words, her timing between verses. I think it's pretty clear already which part I hated most.

The next phase was a bounce back out to absurdity. It became funny how annoying it was and people would sing along as if to challenge the song's authority over their psyche. This paired exceptionally poorly with people in phase two as they'd often lash out at the people giving more voice to their hell.

The fourth phase was a dead-eyed madness. People would stare straight ahead and their lips would silently mouth the familiar words. The song had pounded its way into their very soul and was inextricably linked to auditory output. They often didn't even realize if they began chanting along.

The fifth and final phase was pure uncut pubescent rage. Kids would scream, attack each other, and in a truly epic end to the event hurl a cafeteria chair with such force at the speaker in the cafeteria to irreparably damage the sound system.

The seniors got funding for a party, but some of it had to go to repair the damages, which were substantial.

#ramblies #funny #ffs foibles #high school #when I transferred back to my home state they tried something similar with the song “Blue”. The teachers were threatening to walk by lunch #I'm honestly astonished that none of the teachers rebelled in arizona? It had to be just as bad for them and it played in classrooms

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 months ago

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Hello! If you’re not very occupied could I request a Sebastian Solace x mutated female reader (Reader was there during the lockdown and looks similar to Sebs due to her mutations)?

Sebastian crashes into reader after they both spot a black light (sebs wants it for his little store, reader wants it cuz the squiddles are annoying af), so they squabble for a bit till it ends up turning into a play fight for it but accidentally scratch each other up and break the black light so they both go empty handed full of stinging cuts and scratches, then tend to each other’s injuries.

Would love it to be fluff with a pinch of angst! Platonic or romantic is fine with me!

"That's not fair, I found it first!"

'We both found it at the same time, idiot. You know how rare it is to come by one of these?! My customers will easily fork over all their data for it!"

"Do you have any idea how many times a Squiddle has attacked me this week?! TOO MANY! I need this more."

"What you "need" to do is to learn what personal space is."

"How's it my fault when they pop up everywhere and I can't see two feet ahead of me in dark waters?? I can't even turn on my own light!"

"Well that's your problem. Learn some manners."

"I think you need to learn some, considering you just ripped it out of my hand!"

"Should I remind you who let you out of containment? I could've just swam by your cell, you know."

"....you better take that back, or else." With gnashed teeth, you scowled at Sebastian--the sea monster who had undergone mutations similar to your own--holding an item that you so dearly prized:

The blacklight.

After the blacksite went into lockdown and nearly every creature was released, you've done the best you could to survive on your own, scavenging for whatever items Sebastian neglected to scoop up.

Normally, you'd search through dim and dark rooms, as oftentimes those overlooked places contained the best kind of loot.

The only tradeoff was contending with the numerous Squiddles who were set loose. Although normally calm, they were easily enraged by any bright light shined on them...whether it was intentional or not. Even just standing near them pissed them off to the extreme.

They've attacked you quite a few times simply because your angler light was apparently too irritating for them. And by the time you managed to flick it off, they'd lunge for you, wrapping their tentacles around your arms and jabbing you with barbs.

Thankfully, they were not poisonous, but they still stung like hell.

Like those injections the guards and people in white coats used to give you.

They reminded you of..not-so-fun times, and you'd rather forget them and be able to navigate through the facility safely, and having a blacklight was the only way you could do so.

If only Sebastian wasn't so obsessed with snatching up everything he came across...

You knew he was forced to help the expendables, sure. But he had more than enough wares to sell at this point.

He's no stranger to killing customers out of annoyance, which wouldn't bother you...if not for the fact he took everything they had back instead of leaving something for you.

Yeah, you were a little petty.

But right now, you were thoroughly irritated by his greed.

"Or else what?" He sneered, daring you to finish that sentence as he switched the blacklight to his third hand.

"Or I'll...I'll." Pausing, you glanced over his shoulder, gasping dramatically. "Is that a Wall Dweller?"

"Huh? Where?" While normally smart, Sebastian was foolish enough to look behind him for one second-

Before he felt the light being snatched away, and he swung his head back, scowling upon seeing it back in your possession. "Had. Sucks to suck." You teased, holding it tightly in your two lower arms. "Try to get it from me now-"

"Oh, but I will. GIVE IT HERE!!!" Gnashing his teeth, he lunged at you with frightening speed, but you were quicker and dodged out of the way, laughing as he slammed into a locker with full force.

"Damn, I would've thought Pandemonium ran into that." You snickered, only to blink as he suddenly turned and tried again, this time having success in tackling you to the floor.

At that point, both of you were in a fierce struggle for the blacklight, leaving scratches and bites on each other's bodies and snarling angrily. You were livid, seeing him bare his sharp teeth--looking no different from those noisy Anglers that liked roaming the halls.

It sure would be a bad time for any of them to pass through.

"Now you're just pissing me off, Solace! You were never this childish before!" You tried keeping the blacklight secured, but even then it was hard using three arms to push back his own.

"Childish? You think I'm....give me a break." He growled back. "I have a business to run. I'm not the one moseying around Squiddle territory!"

"Well maybe if someone didn't release them all at once during the lockdown, I wouldn't have to worry about where they'd pop up! Now let me have this one thing!"

"If I'm gonna get us out of here, I need all the data I can get! And they'll pay a fine price for this!"

"Go find Wall Dweller chunks to sell!! Those expendables you love so much will buy ANY slop from you!"

"HELL NO!! Those are disgusting! Almost as disgusting as your attitude right now! So just..let me...HAVE IT-!!"

With one desperate and final yank, Sebastian severely underestimated how strong his pull was, as the blacklight flung out of his hands, spinning in the air.

Both of you watched in devastation as it sailed towards the closest wall, smacking right into it. You physically cringed at the sound of a loud pop, followed by tiny bits of glass shards landing on the floor and the clattering of what remained of the light.

You just sat there in silence for a few long moments, taking in what just happened and feeling...absolutely horrible.

"....well fuck. Now look what you've--ow.." As Sebastian turned back to scowl at you, he felt a stinging cut on his cheek that you accidentally left "Shit, this burns.." He grumbled, holding his face.

"I think you bit me." You muttered, looking at your hand which had several tiny teeth marks. "You broke through my skin..I'm impressed." Then you glanced at his arm, realizing you tore through his bandage, too.

Guilt washed over you like a tidal wave. "Shit..I'm sorry."

He blinked, seeing your entire mood shift from being absolutely pissed off...to tenderly concerned as you inched closer to him, frowning. "Is..it okay if I see your arm?"

It took him a few seconds to respond, but he nodded and raised the limb, allowing you to examine the injuries closer. "I don't think the wound reopened, but jeez..I'm really about this. I should've been more careful."

"Yeah..um..I probably should'a been, too.." He admitted, a little embarrassed. "We messed up each other pretty good, and for what?"

"..a flashlight that's now useless to us."

Pouting, both of you began to realize how utterly stupid and childish this whole thing was.

Now you were left without a blacklight, regret clouding your minds and achiness in your bones.

"I see a medkit over there." You decided to speak up, pointing to one of the nearby tables. "Let me patch you up as an apology."

"..sure, as long as you let me do the same." He muttered, watching as you slithered over to grab the kit, quickly bringing it back and setting it between the two of you.

For the next ten minutes or so, you sat in silence, tending to each other's wounds with disinfectant and gauze. While you had a slightly higher pain tolerance, Sebastian hissed and winced every time you needed to wipe a cut on his skin with alcohol.

The chemical smells were probably bring him back to the days he was trapped in the labs just like you. But you didn't make any comments on it, instead trying to work as quickly as you can.

You were grateful that he considered you a close friend, as he usually despised being touched by anybody. You've seen it firsthand when some expendables tried climbing onto his tail, with him swatting them off like flies, screaming for them to get off--sometimes brandishing his shotgun in case they didn't get the hint.

"Please tell me you're almost done.."

"I am now." After a few snips, you smiled as you took your hands away, looking down at the new bandage you've put around Sebastian's third arm, putting the scissors back into the kit. "Thank you for trusting me after..um..what happened earlier."

"Yeah, same...that was kinda stupid." He sighed. "I know you can't help wherever those squids show up-"

At that moment, the lights in the room began to flicker.

Not once.

But twice in quick succession.

Both of you looked at each other.

"It's Blitz."

"Blitz is coming."

Sebastian grabbed your arm and dragged you to the furthest corner of the room, out of the path of the shrieking mutated viperfish as he passed through, killing the lights before making his exit. He was like a blur of grey and black smoke, his face barely visible to either of you.

It didn't surprise you that not even Urbanshade's "advanced" CCTV equipment could capture him on film.

You huffed, uncovering your ear fins. "He's too loud sometimes."

"Pssh, I don't think he's loud enough." The other fish remarked, rolling his eyes as you both turned on your angler lights to illuminate the now pitch black room.

Not even a few moments later, you noticed the dark figure of a Squiddle appear nearby, just out of your light's radius. Neither of you were close enough to fully agitate it, but just enough to make it display a frowny face--showing its displeasure.

You looked at Sebastian. "See what I mean?"

"...alright, alright. I guess it's a little ridiculous." He finally admitted.

"A "little"? Try dealing with that on a daily basis."

"I think I'll pass. But I get your point."

#clanask #anonymous #roblox x reader #pressure x reader #roblox pressure x reader #sebastian solace #sebastian solace x reader #monster reader #female reader

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bunny-jpeg · 5 months ago

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Can I get a sourdough bread and martini with Lando Norris 😻💞

bakery menu

want to suggest your own order? the bakery is open!! please feel free to check out the options! i do more than just formula one so hit me with it! thank you for this request, this was right after another lando mafia au, haha. i'm glad that people can see the vision of mafia!lando, but this is with a nice little breeding kink! thank you! thank you!

sourdough bread ("i'm going to breed you.") + martini (mafia au) served by lando norris (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, mafia!au, mafia!lando, breeding kink, husband/wife, missionary, pregnancy

you could see your husband's gaze from across the table. it was saturday night and while most were out partying. the two of you were at home, enjoying each other's company.

lando was going to be out of the country for a week and you were to stay at home. he hated leaving you, but sadly you were just too precious to be around such a dangerous situation.

"they'd scoop you right up and if they hurt you, love. there is no hell or heaven that could stop me from getting you back." he said earlier in the meal.

lando norris was the darling son of the mclaren family, while there was still much to learn before he could be the head of the family, he knew whatever may come could be dealt with as long as you were by his side. his darling wife.

he could never get enough of you. loving you was a devouring feeling, something he needed to sink his teeth into. and lately he had a new itch to scratch.

a few weeks back, while at a small get together of the family. lando saw just how good you were with kids. you had a baby cousin on your hip as you got something to eat. it all came naturally and lando almost had to bite his fist.

"do you want this?" you asked the small child at your hip, "let's ask your mama to see if you can have m&m's." you giggled within lando's earshot.

lando sighed through his teeth, this new monster in him was starting to show its ugly head. he earned a pat on the back from oscar who didn't know exactly what lando's deal was. but could only be a supportive 'brother'.

"you gonna be alright?"

"oh yeah." lando said as he shifted in his seat, "perfectly fine." he wasn't making eye contact with oscar, rather watching you talk to the mother of the child you were holding. you were smiling with the child at your hip.

now over dinner, lando was still thinking about it. he got a good eye of your cleavage across the dinner table in the blouse you were wearing that was just a little open to give him a good view.

he swallowed, "you look beautiful." he said, "what's the occasion?"

you looked down at your plate for a moment, "well. we've been married for two years. and well, i've been thinking."

lando stilled for a moment, "it's not a divorce right?" he knew that the risk of the lifestyle he lived could push you away.

you chuckled, "no, no. i made a promise to love you till i die. you're not getting rid of me that easily." you put your fork down, "i want to have a baby with you... i guess in a hotter way of saying it. i want you to breed me, lando norris."

he almost choked on his food, those blue eyes went wide as he swallowed what was in his mouth, "i mean... hell yeah, i will." he flashed you a smile.

you giggled at the sight of him, his reaction made something curl in your gut. despite it all, all the tattoos and scars. the fancy suits and quick thinking, he was still the lovable man you married. you said, "then i guess we'll skip dessert tonight."

being in love with the future of the mclaren family was interesting. you had heard stories about him and his 'brother' oscar, raised together to be the best of the best. the family was better to be headed by two rather than one.

but lando was your precious husband, even without the parade of mafia ties. you remembered when he gave you his umbrella on your first date and let himself get soaked. or when he figured out to make that specific pasta he threw together one night for you. he smelt warm and of home and you never met a man like him.

that was why it was so easy to strip for him in the low light of your shared bedroom. he was seated at the edge of the bed in his briefs as he watched you get out of your clothes. slowly the buttons of the blouse were undone, his eyes grazed the beautiful sight of you.

lando didn't believe in a heaven, but if he did it would be located between your breasts.

you eventually got out of your panties and finally your bra before you got into your husband's lap. your took his face in your hands and kissed at the side of his jaw.

he groaned under your touch, your soft hands on his skin were like worship as you kissed him. he felt so comfortable in your touch, he yearned for it when you were apart.

he loved you.

you straddled his waist and he wrapped his arms around your waist. the tattooed skin was a contrast against your bare skin. the most noticeable tattoo were your initials on the side of thumb on his left hand. when he was stressed he'd rub over the ink and be comforted by thoughts of you.

he kissed you on the lips and the kiss quickly deepened before he laid back on the bed, taking you with him. he continued to kiss you as he rolled you onto your back.

he wanted to look at you while he fucked you. his kisses and fingers trailed down your chest. he cupped your breasts and licked across your nipples. you moaned and felt the heat throb through your body. you looked at your husband and moaned a little bit.

he left a few small red marks across your chest before he got his briefs off. he said softly, "i'm going to breed you. just as you asked. give you that little norris baby you want." he groaned a little as he lined his cock up with your slit. he kissed his tip against your pussy lips.

"you make it sound hotter than i tried to." you chuckled softly and let out a sweet moan as he slowly sank his cock into you. he shuddered at the feeling and you got your arms around his strong neck.

"well, i can't deny my wife anything. if she wants a baby then she'll get it." lando groaned as he really pushed into you. his thrusts were firm, but not rough. he was trying to fuck the daylights out of you.

he wanted to admire his beautiful wife, he held you by the waist and kissed at your chest. his heart thumped in his ears as he moved against you. he started to kiss at your chest once more, he couldn't wait to see your pretty tits get bigger with pregnancy.

"you're gonna give me a pretty kid." he chuckled as he softly bit on your nipple, the feeling made you moan loudly. he groaned, "gonna be a proud mama of my brats." he pushed further into you. he crowded your space as he played with your nipple against his tongue.

you felt the throb of heat in your core. the idea of having a child with lando was erotic. it scratched an itch in the back of your brain. your big stronger protective hubby and you having a kid together.

you didn't want to admit but that idea of your heavily tattooed husband holding your chubby little baby so gently in his arms. it was so adorable that it made you feel heat all over.

"get me pregnant, lando. please, i want to have your baby."

"yeah, you want me to breed you. what a naughty thing to say." he chuckled as he moved against you, "make sure every last drop stays in your pretty pussy. that's where it's meant to be, right? inside of my pretty wife." he groaned.

"yes.' you panted, "fuck, i want you, my love."

"don't worry, ya got me forever, love. i'm not going anywhere. especially now that you want to have a family with me. gotta be there for me girl, and my kid." he chuckled as he moved against you.

the two of you kissed once more. you held onto his shoulders as his lips pressed yours. he still tasted like wine and the pasta you had for dinner. you moaned into his kiss as you felt his grasp on your hips.

"lucky to have you." he said softly, "lucky for all of my life."

he had everything when he was with you. you were everything and more to him. the wife he came home to, the lover he pleased and the girl he continued to fall in love with.

he was such a dangerous man, but with you. he was just so perfect. he loved you with such a devotion that he knew no other woman could take his heart.

he may be the head of a mafia family, but the little norris trio you'd eventually have would be headed by you. his equal, his lover. those who thought the term 'wife' meant less than could kiss the bottom of lando's steel-toed boots.

"i love you, lando. i'm lucky to have you as my husband." you panted.

"not as much as i am lucky to have you as my wife. i never knew that it was possible for a woman to be so beautiful but also make me laugh so much. you're everything i wanted." he purred as he continued to move. his lips on yours once more.

the kiss was sloppy and hot, you felt the thrill of excitement race through you as he moved against you.

you knew you were close, the feel of orgasm felt so strong in your body. you panted when you broke the kiss, but he pulled you in for another. you could feel his warmth around you.

"my girl."

"my lando." you purred. the pleasure was too much, it drove you to finishing.

you clutched onto him and clenched your legs around him. you gave him a wet kiss on his cheek. you climaxed with a loud moan, you tensed up for a moment before you relaxed.

it only spurred him to fuck you even faster. he felt a thrill in his body as he pushed in and out of you. his brain short wired when he gave a few more thrusts before he finished inside of you. he didn't pray often, but he prayed to whoever out there that you'd get pregnant.

if not, you two had a lot of time to have all the fun you needed in making a baby.

"i love you." he said as he laid on top of your for a moment, the weight of him felt good. it was a comforting bulk. you kissed his face softly as he panted on top of you. his cock was softening inside of you, but he wanted more.

"i love you too." your words only made him want you more.

he wanted to feel his wife all over again. make sure that his cum stuck to the inside of you. he wanted to make sure you had his babies asap. he get a small thrust and you once against wrapped your legs around him.

"someone likes that.' he said as he pulled away, he braced his arms on either side of you. he chuckled, "how about i clear my schedule for tomorrow, so we can have all of tonight to ourselves."

you were inclined to accept his offer.

you crossed your arms as you rested against the kitchen counter. your husband was making direct eye contact with your belly. you knew that he knew what he did was wrong.

"love, i'm sorry. i couldn't help myself. i know, i'm a horrible husband." he sighed as he dropped his head, "i'm so, so sorry."

you sighed, "lando. we made an agreement. you weren't supposed to do that. c'mon.

beside you on the counter was a small stack of pancakes. you had a craving for banana and chocolate chip pancakes. you had set some aside for lando, but your pesky husband thought that he could try and sneak another off of your plate.

lando was almost to his knees as he approached you and wrapped his arms around you, "i'm sorry my beautiful darling wife."he pouted at you, "no one makes them like you, i couldn't help myself."

you pushed his face away and sighed dramatically. you weren't even that upset, especially when your mafia husband gave you puppy dog eyes. you said with added drama, "your son is going to end up loving me more if you keep this up."

he whined, "no!!!" and pulled you into a tight hug once more. he peppered your face with kisses, "i'll make it up to you, i promise."

you took him by the face and pressed a soft kiss onto his lips, "well, if you go to the store now. you should have enough time to get everything for another batch." you winked at him.

before you had another second to think about it, lando was out the door with his keys in hand. anything for his wife, anything. <3

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cregansdingdong · 4 months ago

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dingdong hear me out, cregan and reader going through the honeymoon stage of their marriage in winterfell where he just cant get off her and they get it on (she gets on should i say 😜) EVERYWHERE and ANYWHERE. im talking in the stables just out of earshot of the lords in the courtyard, in the wolfswood surrounded by the beautiful northern countryside, in the council chambers, on the table, EVERYWHERE. I KNOW this man gets hot knowing anyone could catch them and that they couldn’t do anything about it because he is their lord. PLEASE GIVE THE PEOPLE WHAT THEY WANT 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

- fellow cregan worshipping anon xo

I HAVE THOUGHTS. THE GEARS ARE TURNING. I FEEL THEM TURNING. SEND HELP ANON.

Let's get something perfectly clear, my beloved, the honeymoon stage never ends with Cregan. Now, it might slow down after the birth of a few kiddos ten but in no way, shape, or form will your Lord Wolf ever be satisfied. That being said, you have my prayers, sorrows, and congratulations also my envy ofc if you both are ever caught getting your freak on. It's gonna go a little something like this...

ʜᴏɴᴇʏᴍᴏᴏɴ. (thoughts ver.)

NSFW stuff under the cut. 18+ only. I'm not responsible for the content you choose to consume. ty.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

"We're going to—"

"I don't care." He grunts. Skirts lifted up the curve of her ass, his hips rutting into her at a pace desperate enough to bruise. They were both frantic, fucking like it was their last day alive. The council room was empty—which it usually was; only really filled when Cregan felt the need to call on his vassals. If it had been a regular day, Lord and Lady Stark wouldn't have had anything to worry about.

His wife presses her cheek down on the table, holding onto the oak edges for dear life, mewling of course, as he rocked into her like a man possessed. Controlled entirely by his need, by her whines for him, Cregan thought he could die a happy man right there in her snug cunt. He could. He wanted to, in a way, the last sensations in the living world being her velvety walls, clenching around him with every swift thrust.

They were loud as they always were—unintentionally. It was too good to remember any restraint. Not that it mattered to the Lord Wolf, he was the Lord paramount of the North. Who was going to tell him he couldn't make love with his wife? No one, but he could at least make an effort to lock the door first. Rabid grunts and the sound of his hefty balls slapping against her flooded the corridor as the entrance to the council room was opened. "Seven Hells—"

His bannermen. His vassals. The meeting. Gods. He forgot about the meeting. Torrhen Manderly turned right back around, narrowly avoiding whatever it was that Cregan flung towards the door—thankfully fast enough to stop the other men from following in after him. "Get out!" The door was promptly slammed shut, right as his wife lifted her head from the table, face flushed red in mortification. "Were we just cau—fuck!" Lord Stark still didn't care, reaching around to rub at her pretty clit as his cock resumed pistoning against her ass. And as she came for at least the third time that morning, the realization of getting caught was quickly erased from the front of her mind, Cregan's teeth latching on to the curve of her shoulder as he chased his release.

okay I can't help myself so here's a bonus bit:

Redressed and thoroughly embarrassed some twenty minutes later, Lady Stark emerges from the council room, expecting her handmaiden to be waiting—no. Gods. They'd waited. They'd actually waited. Seven bannermen, each one avoiding her eye more than the last, probably in an attempt to maintain whatever was left of her dignity. They made not a single sound as she walked sprinted by, nodding stiffly in respect to their Lady.

Cregan, however, did not share that same sentiment. Satisfied for the moment, smug, and seated lazily at the head of the table, legs spread comfortably as he sat back against his chair. He exhaled quietly through his nose once his vassals entered the room, the smallest of smirks written on his face that said more than his mouth ever could. "Where did we leave off last time?"

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

#hotd #dingdonganswers #house of the dragon #cregan stark #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark imagine #cregan x reader #cregan stark x female reader #cregan stark fanfic #🙏 anon

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w2sology · 9 months ago

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Hi can u do harry with shy and pregnant reader who ìs like a little sister to rest of the sidemen

nerf or nothing, harry lewis.

summary: the boys come over to spend a bit of time with you and harry, and they come bearing gifts!

warnings: pregancy (idk if that's even a warning?)

notes: as a shy person myself, some of this writing is heavily self inserted 🥲

"what if they don't end up liking football though?"

"then we can try darts. or hey, even rugby."

"harry."

it was past noon and you and harry were discussing things that parents to be often discussed, only harry was focused on the later years of your child's life.

the two of you sat in bed, your back leaning against his chest as you sat in between his legs, loads of catalogues scattered around you both.

"oh, about the pram that you were talking about before," harry mentioned.

"yeah?"

"ethan said faith had loads of websites, she could send them to you if you wanted?"

"oh, god, yes." you sighed contentedly, no longer feeling the stress of having to look for a perfect pram. "or better yet, tell her that she can come over, i haven't seen her or olive in a minute."

harry told you that he'd let ethan know, kissing your forehead before leaving to the kitchen to fix you both a snack.

whilst he was in the middle of pouring you a glass of cranberry juice ─── "it's good for the body harry," you told him, to which he replied with "no, rank is what it is," ─── the doorbell rang.

confused as to who you were both expecting or if it was yet another baby purchase coming in, harry sat the glass on the counter and made his way to the door.

before he could even open it, he knew who it was judging by the loud voices and the bickering of what sounded like jj and simon.

"just ring it once, mate, they can definitely hear." simon groaned, trying to obstruct jj, who clearly didn't listen and kept pressing the doorbell, which earned your attention from upstairs.

harry stood a little away from the door, contemplating what would happen if he just turned around and pretended not to hear the commotion happening outside.

"we can see you, harry," ethan called from through the letterbox. so much for that plan.

harry sighed before opening the door, a smile plastered on his face as his friends all cheered, seeing them bound with gifts and food and other things.

the soft sound of your footsteps made them all turn their head to where you were on the stairs, your baby bump proudly peeking through harry's oversized shirt that you had on.

"oh," you shyly smiled. "hi guys." you didn't think they'd all be here, but there they were.

one by one they came up to you, hugging you and saying their hi's or hello's, asking how you were. and you'd reply with the same, you were doing good, more tired than usual, all that stuff.

whilst harry and simon carried the gifts and food bags to the living room, toby linked your arm with his as he walked you there, making sure you were sat comfortably before harry and simon joined.

harry, being attracted to you like a magnet, squished in next to you, his body on the edge of the sofa as you leant on him.

there was never a moment of silence when the boys came over, and like the listener you were, you loved it.

toby began to explain what each of the gifts were for, considering you didn't know the gender of the baby yet, most of then were just toys. but then again, with them being the slightly immature bunch if men they were, the toys were things like legos and nerf guns or huge dollhouses for toddlers.

"what the hell is a baby going to do with a nerf gun?" harry asked.

"i thought you of all people would like this gift," jj gasped, hand on his chest as he feigned hurt at harry's words.

"no, i'm just saying boys..." and there started the debate over suitable toys for children.

you turned to vik with a look that said 'help me' yet all he did was shrug.

"harry, a couple of months ago you would've been on board with this idea. y/n, what did you do to him?" ethan pointed a finger at you.

"what— me? he's right, a nerf gun's for toddlers, not babies!" you defended yourself.

harry's chest moved up and down as he laughed behind you, even more so at the way you groaned and his your face in your hands.

"i'm not ready for harry's mature era," simon commented.

"mature and harry don't belong in the same sentence," vik added.

"oh my days," harry mumbled as they launched into a new topic, harry's maturity level.

as they all introduced their own point, you just smiled and laughed along as you leant on your boyfriend, feeling even more excited for your baby to be welcomed into the family.

#wroetoshaw #wroetoshaw x reader #sidemen x reader #wroetoshaw imagines #harry lewis x reader #sidemen #wroetoshaw imagine #harry lewis

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lovelypham · 6 months ago

Text

ENHYPEN HYUNG LINE

prompt: how they react when you get jealous/insecure of them getting shipped with one of your group members by fans pairing:enha!hyung line X idol!fem!reader genre:fluff warnings: insecurities,self doubt,kissing,tad bit suggestive at hoon's part

hesseung (희승)

your relationship with Heeseung was one that was private, and that was due to crazy fans and the backlash you were more than sure you'd get if you ever decided to announce it

but as you kept scrolling through the comments under the video of your fellow member Karina,and your boyfriend doing the dance challenges for both of the groups comebacks you wished you could be able to risk it all and go public,but deep down you knew you'll only harm yourself and your image as well as heeseung's but both you and the fans couldn't help but notice how fit they were for eachother, how in sync they were, and how their visuals seemed flawless, perfect even

continue under the cut

you opened the comments once again

"they look so close to eachother, I bet they're dating"

"the way heeseung looks at karina in the bts video! omg i shipp🤭💓"

" karina is so classy,no wonder her and heeseung are dating they're so perfect for each other💓!!"

you knew that you shouldn't let these comments get to your head, but you couldn't help but feel insecure about your appearance, your dance, hell even the way you act!

you always knew that people preferred karina over you but it hurt so bad when your own managers who knew about your relationship decided to put the two people who have been getting shipped nonstop to do a dance challenge together, knowing extremely well that they'd spark dating rumors.

as if he read your mind, heeseung sent you a message saying

"hey baby, are you doing okay?"

even though it was a regular question he always asked it felt weirdly specific especially since you had texted him not too long ago.

you saw his icon pop up on your screen indicating an upcoming video call from him, you quickly wiped your almost dry tears and accepted the call

you saw heeseung's gorgeous face, and his sweet like honey smile appear on the little black rectangle that is your screen.

"hey heeseung" you began the conversation, he immediately knew something was up you never call him his full name unless something is making you upset

"hi baby,how are you doing" he trailed off,"I have seen better days" you mumbled "oh princess, is something bothering you? you know you can talk to me about anything right?" he suggested "yes hee I know I just don't want you to think that it's stupid" you hesitated " princess you know that's not true, I will never find anything you say stupid, now if you're comfortable then tell me what happened" he responded " I feel jealous" you whispered " m'sorry baby what did you say I didn't quite hear you" he softly replied

" I said I'm jealous"you replied with a slightly louder voice " jealous, of what baby, if you don't tell me I wouldn't know"he said,you let out a sigh before continuing

"I saw the video you did with karina and you guys look so perfect together, all the comments were shipping you with her, and I didn't want to tell you because I didn't wanna come off as insecure"you said with a slight shakiness in your voice, heeseung let out a sigh before softly replying "baby, I don't care how perfect fans think we look together, and how much they ship us, I see no one but you, I love you so much and I hope you know that, now do me a favor and stop looking at these comments I don't want you to worry your pretty little head, okay princess?" you squeaked back " I love you too heeseungie" with a slight smile on your face

jay (제이)

you loved it when jay and your members got along, it made you feel so happy seeing some of the most important people in your life interact freely with eachother without the cameras that seemed to follow you everywhere, engenes and fearnots knew about your relationship with jay and they had supported it since the very beginning always calling you the " it couple" or the " power couple"

but you didn't know how the sudden shipping of locals to yunjin and Jay happened, it made you feel weird knowing that non kpop fans had noticed the relation between your dear member and your bf, you weren't sure if it was the insecurities speaking but you noticed how similar they were , they had similar style, they listened to alot of mutual artists but you figured that was you impacting their taste in music

and lastly they both were mature and responsible.So when Jay came to your dorm with ni-ki and jake ,you took him into your room to talk to him, he looked confused 'cause you seemed fine speaking to him on the phone not too long ago. you both sat on your bed and he quickly took your hands in his once he saw you fiddling with them, a habit he noticed you did when you were nervous

the first thing you asked was "jay do you love me?" Jay furrowed his eyebrows and replied to you"of course baby I love you, why are you asking that?" you hesitated "uhmm I was just wondering you know?"you chuckled nervously you saw Jay put his serious face on and let out " are you sure princess, you never ask me that,tell me what's wrong" " nothing jay I told you" you said while slightly raising your voice as you took your hands out of his hold

" baby listen i know for sure it's not nothing okay? I want to be able to talk to you freely without making you feel uncomfortable so tell me what happened" you let out a sigh before looking up at him from your fiddling hands and told him "don't you think yunjin is a better fit for you? she's mature and older than me she takes responsibility of her actions meanwhile I'm just childish and everyone sees me as a baby no one ever takes me seriously and I'm never responsible"

jay softened his gaze and took your face in his hands "princess you know you're the perfect fit for me right? I feel in love with you since I first saw you at the HYBE carters games, I love you and I will never let you go okay, I don't care how childish people think you are but you'll always be my baby" he leaned closer and gave you a sweet and meaningful peck on your lips and he whispered to you" I love you" you put all your worries aside and replied" I love you more baby"

jake (제이크)

you were sitting in the makeup chair in your group's changing room when you overheard some of the staff gushing about how perfect Jake,and Belle , your member,were for eachother, pointing out there soft features that resembled those of an angel, you sighed loudly at their words that stung like a thorn in your heart, you knew that it was nearly impossible for you and Jake to reveal your relationship, but why where you so ready to risk it all and show the word that Jake was your man, the boy that you kiss and cuddle, well secretly of course

you knew your career would be on the edge if anyone were to find out, I mean you were newly debuted and Jake had a wide fanbase, but you couldn't help but feel helpless as you walked towards the inkigayo bathrooms looking for a distraction from the conversation you just heard,

you bumped into someone and who was it other than Jake himself ,he looked so handsome with his current outfit and you couldn't help but notice his puppy face light up when he saw you "baby, I was coming to get you" he said after double checking for any cameras or staffs "ahh really I thought you were still in your room niki told me earlier" you replied with a less excited tone "baby are you okay?, you look down" Jae trailed off "I'm fine just tired from the comeback" you gave him a small smile "aww baby don't worry it's our last day I'll treat you to dinner after this okay princess?" he said while holding your hands

"ok baby, uhmm I have to go now bye" you quickly removed your hands when you caught a glimpse of your group manager "okay bab-" he quieted down when you disappeared, Jake looked and felt confused you always tell him I love you when you say bye so why didn't you say it, "maybe it was because her manager came" jaeyun thought to himself

you had just finished your stage and enhypen were finished before you, you headed towards your changing room when you saw the same staff but this time they looked guilty, almost sulky? you were confused until you saw Belle coming your way and telling you that she came in to see the same two staff fan girling over her and Jake and she had told them that it was inappropriate to speak about such things during working hours especially infront of the idols themselves

she then hugged you and discreetly whispered in your ear "I already talked with jake about the matter and he told me you seemed off so now change your clothes, and go meet him in the parking lot okay?" she said and patted you on the back

you quickly ran towards the parking lot after you changed into your casual clothes, you spotted Jake waiting for you beside the company car while aimlessly scrolling on his phone

while panting you said to him "Jake, baby I'm really sorry I did that to yo-" he quickly shut you up by connecting your lips together and caressing your waist with one hand and holding your chin upwards with another he tilted your head to deepen the kiss and then pulled away with his forehead on yours "I love you so much baby" I love you too Jaeyun" you replied, breathless.

sunghoon (성훈)

you and everyone knew how perfect sunghoon and wonyoung were for eachother from their icy visuals to their classy vibe, but wonyoung was your member whom you loved so much and you never even once were jealous of their relationship knowing fairly well it was fan service and nothing more

but why did it feel bittersweet to see your bf and wonnie receiving best couple award at KBS when you stood at the side staring at them with a fake smile on your face, you let your insecurities take over you and that little voice in your head was telling you that wonyoung was better, she was prettier, more elegant, she was cute, she was funny, she always captivated people with her visuals,and that she was better than you at everything!

you couldn't handle the stares filled with pity from your members, leeseo came to your side and hugged you while you were going backstage and patted your shoulder, you then felt two very familiar muscular arms holding your waist and preventing you from going any further, you sighed and turned around to see sunghoon with his pretty little mole and pale skin he grabbed you towards a more secluded area and neared you towards him

he reached down to you level and kissed your lips, you took a moment to kiss him back but you eventually did so ,he then pulled away "baby ik you might be jealous of what just happened but I promise you your my one and only, I'll choose you again and again in every universe, you're so pretty, my girl" he said while pecking your lips again you couldn't help the smile that crept up on your face you slapped his muscular chest jokingly " I was supposed to be mad at you"you said while pouting at him

he chuckled teasingly and kissed you again but this time it was more heated, he took your face in his hands and brought his closer, you moaned at the feeling and you felt his tongue on yours,you both were fighting for dominance until you heard a gasp followed by a familiar voice that belonged to wonyoung saying "aigoo what did I do to see this ,whatever, _____ when you're done eating your boyfriend's face please come here we need to head back to our dorm" you looked up at sunghoon and said" I love you hoonie byee! "

" I love you too princess, make sure to call me when you arrive okay?" " yes hoonie mwah" you said while blowing a kiss he shook his head with a stupid smile on his face " aish this girl"

(a/n: haven't posted a fic in ages sorry,the jake and sunghoon parts are heavily inspired by didi aka @/enmi-land I miss didi :(( )

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phyrestartr · 6 months ago

Text

Their Burning Bodies Keep Us Warm (1/2) | Sukuna x M!Reader

W/C: 3.4k #NSFW, top!Sukuna, bottom!Reader, ABO dynamics, cannibalism, mentions of sex trafficking, mentions of cults, questionable relationship, suggested Stockholm syndrome, post-apocalypse, enemies to friends to lovers, angst, drama, gore, typical zombie shite, not rlly edited kekw SORRY

tags: @flowersatwork @tr4nniez @kamote-kuneho @prettorett @better-imagination-9

You ran. Even when your lungs tore apart, your legs burned to ash, your mind split and ruptured, you ran.

The destination was simple: anywhere. Anywhere away from the hell hole you'd been swept up into–a camp full of soldiers getting hopeful little bugs stuck in a honeypot with promises of safety and a life well-lived despite the end of the world. A colony. A chance to stop hoping to simply survive.

But that wasn't what happened. You and so many others were victims of a breeding ring–a puppy mill, so to speak. One where those able to bear young were forced to. One where a hivemind fooled the naive into thinking this was all for the ultimate goal of repopulation, for a chance to reclaim the world should the infected finally fall.

Yet humans, as smart and powerful as the hive claimed, had already lost once, and now twice as they lit their humanity ablaze for the greater evil of satisfying twisted desires under the guise of necessity. You couldn't take it anymore.

So, you ran.

Then, you saw a light. Just faintly. It whispered promises of warmth in the cold deadness of Winter's night; you couldn't help but be drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

But that meant someone was inside, too, which could be a blessing or a curse–if they found you, sidling up to the house, listening for signs of life or unlife, they could turn you in to the men chasing you; on the other hand, you might find a friend. A companion. A safe person to sleep by at night. To eat with. To talk to. That'd be nice.

Your daydreams shattered when the voices of those soldiers echoed in the empty streets of the town you'd found yourself in. You peeked from your perch by the front door of the house, and ducked out of view when you saw two bobbing lights flicking and scanning over the snow.

Shit, shit, shit. You swallowed thickly, trying to thick through the frost biting you and the snow melting on your bare arms. What were the odds they'd be able to follow your scent? All the way down to the spot where you hid beneath the front steps? It was hard to track another when it was raining, so snow had to be the same, right? So why were they coming closer and closer, why were their voices becoming hushed and their words rushed, why were they–

The door above you slammed open with the unmistakable sound of a gunshot. You covered your mouth with a shaky hand, hoping the boom coupled with your stalker's shocked, angry barking (just one voice?) stifled whatever pathetic squawk you garbled out.

It must've. Because the person--the man--standing on the weather-worn deck above you laughed, and stepped down the creaky stairs with heavy, lazy steps before following that soldier's voice.

Go, go, go. You forced yourself to move, pushing yourself up the steps under the cover of barked threats and the outbreak of a fight. You thought men like that stuck together. That they'd help each other out with delivering omegas back to one another. That they'd invite him to join their diabolic cult–especially when the thick scent of alpha filled your lungs.

You swallowed thickly, your inner omega going wild with curiosity and wonder and a need to curl up in the musk and laze in it all day, but your petrified self picked up the slack and kept you in motion, kept you scrambling for a place to hide. Staying the night was the plan–you wouldn't be able to survive outside, not like this. Not with a t-shirt, worn joggers and runners being your only defense against the cold.

What happens in the morning? He'd no doubt catch your scent. He'd no doubt realize he had an unwelcome guest. What would he do with you? What would he do to you?

“I don't care,” You breathed as you jammed yourself into the darkness of a bedroom closet and burrowed into whatever lay on the floor. “I don't care.”

And that was true; being a slave to one was better than being a slave to many.

–

His eyes shone red.

You weren't sure if you woke in the night to find the demon. You didn't know if your dreamscape simply enjoyed tormenting you. But the burns left by that searing, glowing gaze were real.

He stood there. Features melded with shadow. Body engulfing the snowy light of night. Staring down at you. Quiet. Still. Inhuman.

Only your shaky breathing filled the thick, damp void of silence his presence brought. What were you supposed to do? What were you supposed to–

He closed the closet doors, and his lumbering footsteps sauntered away.

–

When morning came, the stranger was not so willing to leave you alone.

You thought you were being quite crafty, quite sneaky with how you planned on escaping; you waited for sounds of his to stop in a far-off room, then you donned yourself in whatever gear and warm clothes you could find in the closet, and then you carefully, so so so carefully, opened the closet doors and–

“Leaving already, little omega?” A deep, playful voice taunted from the doorway of the room, just out of sight; if you pushed the doors all the way open, you'd see the man standing in the doorway to the left.

But your hands fumbled alongside your heart. Your voice died in your throat.

You were caught.

A large hand gripped the side of the closet door and pulled it open. You stumbled backwards, heart shattering from its frosted paralysis to jump into overdrive.

Because the man, the alpha standing before you, was unlike anything you'd seen before.

He was tall. His shoulders stretched wide and, judging from the strain of his shirt, his build was formidable and downright predatory. Muscle shifted and adjusted under an expanse of gilded skin everytime the beast moved, changing from looming over you to leaning against the doorframe. Maybe in an attempt to make himself smaller. More likely because of his cocky laziness.

The smirk plastered on his face bore the same arrogance, too. As did the care in brushing back his hair and actually looking presentable in the guts of a fucking apocalypse. But maybe he relished in the anarchy. You could only assume so much from tattoos marking his skin and the mirth gleaming in hellborne eyes.

“Go on,” the man drawled, hooking a thumb into his belt, bringing your attention to the thick knife strapped to his side, “Let's hear your pretty voice.”

“I wasn't gonna stay,” you choked out, and the demon in front of you smiled wider. “I just–I saw your light, and–”

“And you walked on in without even knocking.” He sighed and shook his head. “Kids these days.”

“M'not a fucking kid,” You bit out, surprising the both of you with your venom. You thought you'd lost it long ago, but maybe not.

The man laughed, showing off his brutal, jagged canines. You swore you saw red staining them.

“You've got some bite, huh? Like that in a bitch.” He stepped closer, and you tried to meld into the wall of clothes behind you, but failed to escape the calloused hand that grabbed you by the jaw and forced your head up, down and around as he inspected you like a piece of meat.

You tried to pull away, tried to turn your head to break free from his grasp. “Don't fucking touch me–”

“Hah. This how you tried to get those alphas off of you?” He taunted, grinning at your sudden wide-eyed stare. “No wonder they used you up like a–”

You headbutted him and kneed him in the dick before pushing past him and running. Your head pounded thanks to your stupid opener, but at least it worked. Now, you just had to get out of the damn house and–

“OMEGA.”

–and escape from the devil chasing you.

His growling voice ripped through your skull like a chainsaw revving to life as you threw yourself down the stairs and out the front door. You slipped and slid, nearly falling and breaking your fucking neck on the porch, but you caught yourself and made a break for the street as the thundering of footsteps clamoured after you.

Churned snow painted in sour shades of rusted red greeted you. You could almost envision the struggle, the stabbing, the warmth bleeding from their bodies as they died for their selfish desires. It chilled you, gave you pause–and that's where you fucked up.

The horizon reeled and spun when a heavy body crashed into you and pinned you to the ground. You gasped, straining to catch the breath that'd been punched from your lungs, failing to stop the burning in your chest as your face froze against the pavement.

“Wily little cunt, huh?” The stranger breathed, rage and amusement fighting through his words. “You bring that much fight to the sack, omega? Hey?”

You tried to rip free or push him off or something as he taunted you, but you couldn't. You were trapped. Again. Again.

“Fuck you,” you spat. “I'd rather fucking die than–”

You froze. The slow, stuttering shamble of footsteps pricked your ears before low, ungodly moaning and wheezing rattled through the streets. The noise was quiet, but so loud to a frightened deer.

“Lookit that,” your captor whispered, leaning down to your ear, “Guess God heard your prayer.”

Your heart hammered. “Get off, get off.” Your voice quaked and broke as you thrashed beneath him. “Please.”

“Thought you said you'd rather die.” His knee ground into your back and you bit back a yelp.

“Please.” The diabolic gasping came closer, became more frantic as the thing saw you. You couldn't see it, but they always got so fucking excited and loud when they saw fresh, living meat. You knew it was coming.

“Ah-ah, can't let you go. Your buddy won't be able to catch up and end things for ya.” The stranger cackled something hideous and unnerving. “That'd be a right fucking shame.”

“Let me up,” You begged.

“Not yet.”

It got closer.

“Please!”

“No.”

Just a metre away, now.

“I'll stay.”

The scent of alphan approval washed over you.

“Good pet.”

You were pulled up and off the snowy ground with ease as soon as you submitted. You even vaguely saw the man kick the undead back with ease, sending it toppling over into the snow and stuck on its back like a helpless turtle. Its motor functions were shot in this weather. It probably wouldn't be getting up for a while.

You wondered if you were going to suffer the same fate: stuck on your back, unable to move, at the mercy of a sick freak you accidentally met while running away from other lunatics. You were doomed. But at least you were alive. At least you'd be warm.

The pink-haired menace locked up the door before throwing you down onto the couch with little grace. You would have been more mad if the purring roil of the fireplace didn't breathe warm gusts of comfort over you. And, well, you weren't being dragged into a bedroom and tied down. Not yet, at least.

The make matters worse, the man didn't really say much. Just closed the blinds and ensured the entrances and windows were secured while you sat still and quiet, patient lest you suffer a worse fate.

He glanced at you over his shoulder before returning to the task at hand. “If I wanted to kill your sorry ass, I woulda done it last night,” he said into the quiet of the room.

You remembered those eyes staring down at you. How inhuman and evil they were. How much fear they bred in you. And now, you had to accept how real that was.

He sat down on the coffee table in front of you and leaned towards you, resting his elbows on his knees, holding your gaze with his own.

“Here's what's gonna happen,” he said, low and dangerous. “I'm gonna let you stay. Real nice of me, yeah? I'll give you food, water. Keep you warm, keep you safe from all the bullshit going on outside. Sounds good, doesn't it?”

You looked over his face, brows furrowed, heart pounding so loud you almost couldn't hear him. But you nodded for fear of what he'd do otherwise.

He smiled, satisfied. “Good. And in return,” he started, letting a hand slip up to your knee, “You'll make like a good little whore and keep my bed warm. Fair deal, don't you think?”

You nodded. It wasn’t like you had a choice, anyway.

–

Sex with the man–Sukuna, as you’d come to learn–wasn’t the worst thing imaginable; for one, he had some level of patience and tact when it came to stretching and lubing you up for your occasional “duties,” which put him in your “good book” right away (Christ, your standards had fallen so low).

Secondly, he didn’t make you participate. He’d command you in the same way each time (“face down, ass up, don't bite”), and he'd have his way with you. He never made you kiss him. Never demanded you speak. Never bullied you. He seemed like he just wanted to stuff his cock somewhere warm and forget about the world for a bit.

And you didn't really mind it. Sometimes. you almost looked forward to it. Sometimes, you let little noises escape when he railed you into the bed with reckless abandon. Sometimes, you wanted his hands on you just a little longer.

Because when he wasn't fucking you, he might disappear out of the blue and leave you all alone, only to return a week later with supplies and clothes, unperishable goods and other random odds and ends he found along the way. Once, he even found a retro game store and scooped up an endless supply of gameboy advance and colour games and consoles. Another time, he carried home a bag full of weather-worn books.

What'll it be today? You wondered when you caught sight of the man wandering back up the steps. He cursed under his breath as he messed with the lock for an eternity, and you took the opportunity to scurry away from the living room to put some distance between the two of you just in case; at this point, you didn't expect him to hurt you, but wild animals were unpredictable, even when seemingly domesticated.

“Fuckin' shit-ass door,” Sukuna grumbled as he nudged it open before kicking it closed and locking up. “Need to fix that shit.”

You peered down at him from your perch halfway up the stairs and watched him saunter around, heavy boots clunking on the floors you just washed as he looked around. You had to wonder who the hell had taught him shoes inside was okay.

“Where the fuck is that little bitch,” he mumbled, walking out of your line of sight. He traipsed through the bottom floor thoroughly before walking past the stairs again, pausing, rewinding, and meeting your patient statre. “The fuck are you doing?”

I don't want you to bite me; I don't know if you'll randomly kill me if you're in a bad mood; I don't trust you like that, all ran through your head, but none felt like a good option to admit to. So, you shrugged.

Sukuna sighed, loud and laced with an aggravated growl. “Downstairs. Now. Need you to do something.”

Your brows furrowed slightly. Normally, you weren't asked to do much. The sudden command had your skin itching.

“Now.”

“Coming.” You tried to control the quivering of your legs on your descent to him, and just prayed he didn't notice.

He stared down at you with narrowed eyes and a bit of a sneer before he leaned over, sniffing for your scent, circling around you a few times, and finally rubbing his wrist against your neck to half-heartedly re-mark you.

You cleared your throat. “Is that it?”

Sukuna scoffed and turned away, grabbing the medical bag from the kitchen cabinet and dumping it on the counter. “You know how to sew, yeah?”

“Well, yeah. I can sew.” You approached warily as he gestured you closer.

“Hah. Good to know you're not completely fucking useless.” He sat down heavily onto a bar stool and shrugged off his jacket and shirt before turning his back to you; a long, jagged gash marred his skin with trails of dark, gooey ichor and scarlett smears. Whatever had happened was serious.

“Holy shit,” you breathed, scrambling to look through the medical bag to find something, anything, that seemed like it'd help. You found some essentials: gauze, tape, bandages, antibiotic cream, disinfectant wipes. But you'd definitely need more than a few dinky wipes to deal with his back.

You felt his eyes on you as you puttered around the kitchen, grabbing this and that and some other things before returning to his side with salt, bottled water, and booze in-hand.

Sukuna quirked a brow. “The fuck is all that for?”

You jumped a bit when his voice interrupted your whirling thoughts. “I–gonna, um, try to make some kinda…saline. To clean it.” You cleared your throat again and set the mostly-empty bottle of sake by him. “That's for…y'know.”

“Loud and clear,” Sukuna sighed, dreading what was to come, and took a long, long drink from the bottle.

You pursed your lips and nodded to yourself before starting to mix the salt and water together in the bottle. You weren't sure what the ratio should be, but you figured there wasn't necessarily a limit, not when you were lacking isopropyl alcohol and hydrogen peroxide. You'd be sure to mention it to him next time he went out.

“So. This'll…suck,” you warned, voice nervous and weak.

Sukuna sighed again. Took a swig again. Then ripped his belt from his waist, folded it a few times, and bit down.

He gave you an unenthused thumbs-up, and you found the nerve to jab a hole in the plastic bottle cap before spraying your makeshift saline solution against the wound.

You nearly shit yourself as Sukuna growled with the force of a jet turbine. Faintly, you heard the creaking groan of leather crackle from his mouth as his teeth sank in deep. His canines probably already pierced through the material.

“I know,” you whispered, actually feeling badly for the animal keeping you prisoner. “I know.”

You took your time cleaning the wound out, being sure to remove any sort of gravel or shrapnel embedded into his flesh. Luckily, the gash looked worse than it actually ended up being. It bled a lot, but it didn't cut all the way through to his ribs or beyond. Talk about lucky.

When a majority of his trembling and snarling ebbed, you hazarded the question: “So…how’d this happen?”

Sukuna groaned, and you almost smiled. “Fell off a fucking roof. Hit a sign on the way down.”

You cringed at the thought. “Well. It's…not that bad.” You drenched the wound with another round of salt water before patting it dry.

“Yeah? Then no stitches,” he half-declared, half-asked.

You gave his back a pitying look before reaching for the needle. Sukuna scoffed and muttered colourful obscenities when he saw your fingers snatch up the tool before disappearing behind him again.

“Fuck me.”

“Sorry,” you offered softly, trying not to laugh.

You saw his knee bounce in trepidation as you wiped his skin and the needle down with those cute little towelettes. You kinda felt bad for him. Healthcare in the apocalypse was a bit lacklustre.

As carefully as you could, you pushed the needle through his skin, and tried not to gag at the obscene feeling. The sound of his fist hitting the countertop helped ground you, though, and helped keep you on task stitch, after stitch, after stitch, after–

You set aside the tools and cleaned off your trembling, crimson-stained hands as best as you could before applying whatever ointment you could under gauze, and finally bandaging his torso up. Sukuna's eyes followed you, but you couldn't bear to look at him, quietly afraid of what he might do if your unsteady gaze met his; but that wasn't acceptable, judging by how he grabbed your arm and stopped you from turning away to clean up the mess.

You looked at him, then, eyes laser-focused. Every shift pumped your veins with ice. Every flick of his attention sent electricity down your spine. Every silent word his lips failed to commit to filled you with dread.

“Thanks,” he said. And he let go.

#male reader insert #sukuna x you #sukuna x m!reader #jjk #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #reader insert #ryoumen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk smut #jjk x male reader #jjk x y/n #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryoumen x reader #itadori sukuna x reader

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blackkwidowed · 11 months ago

Note

Imagine kissing Nats bruises and scars after a mission and just being soft and showing her so much love.

I just wanna give Nat a hug tbh

just the entire concept of nat finding it so hard to be vulnerable around anyone but you is both heartbreaking yet the softest most adorable shit ever. here's a little drabble. some darker themes here as well i guess. also, best friend bucky? you got a taste of that here as well. also haven't proofread so sorry

•

When the few team mates arrive back off a mission, there's a dark, almost sad, atmosphere among them. Natasha, Bucky, and Clint had gone together for a few days to track something down. They'd come back early, empty handed, bruised, beaten down and overall, unsuccessful.

Natasha had looked the most upset. She hadn't been crying or anything, she just looked glum. She looked like she'd seen something no one wants to see.

Immediately you say your hellos to everyone, glad that they made it back safely and in once piece- albeit a few bruises and minor injuries. Something had happened out there.

You pull Natasha into your arms and there's something about the way she relaxes and sinks against you that makes your concern skyrocket. Fingers running through her hair, you cup the base of her skull in your hand and bring the other to her cheek for her to look at you. "What happened, my love?"

She sighs, the kind of sigh that speaks for itself.

"We found a group of kids. They'd all been locked up by these asshole guys we were trying to find. They'd been brainwashed. Beaten. Taken from their families and forced into whatever the hell kind of project that's been lined up for them."

You flinch, closing your eyes and repeating Natasha's sigh from before. You understand now.

"Got jumped by some security who've had training from God knows where. Good enough to get some hits in, put it that way." She cranes her neck a little, moves her hair out the way, enough to show the budding purple mark under her ear that's making it way across her jaw. "Powerful bunch, these guys. We're gonna need some more planning before we go back in there."

You nod in agreement, tracing your finger gently across the mark and pressing a soft, barely there kiss to the skin.

"Are you okay?" It comes as a whisper, gentle and only just loud enough for her to hear it. "I mean, I know you're not okay as such just. What do you need?"

She smiles gently at you, pushing herself closer to you again and resting her nose in the crook of your neck. "This is good."

You press a kiss to the side of her head, looking up at the guys who're now sat at the breakfast bar of the kitchen, also looking on like they've seen a ghost. You can't help but feel sorry for whatever they've seen, it takes a lot to have them left feeling like this.

You send Nat to your room, telling her you'll be up there in a moment and to get changed out of her suit. Quickly, you make your way over to the boys and rest a hand on each of their shoulders. "You need anything you know where I am, alright?"

They thank you thoroughly, Bucky even slinging an arm around your waist and squeezing lightly as a thank you. "Take care of her, yeah? I think, maybe, she's reminded of everything she went through. It's hit her, this one. Just take care of her."

Bucky's smile is laced with pain, heartache. You don't see him like this often either. You nod at him. "Of course."

What you find in your room is enough to make you angry. Nat's got a fair few bruises, and it makes you want to track down the bastard(s) that managed to leave such a mark on her soul.

She's sat on the end of the bed, glancing over the hand shaped mark on her arm where she'd been grabbed and thrown just hours earlier. She's not even mad that she let her guard down. Normally she'd be upset with herself, but she can't think about it.

You perch at the head of the bed against the pillows, beckoning her over in a gentle tone. She settles into your side and curls an arm around you tightly, as if she's frightened you'll leave. It only makes you grip her tighter.

Peppering gentle kisses to the side of her face, she sighs in relief and sinks somehow deeper into you, nuzzling into your neck. You're warm, familiar, comforting, you're everything she needs in a time of need.

"Thank you," she whispers against your skin.

"For what, baby?"

"Being here when I need you."

You smile softly, raising a hand to her face and brushing your fingers across her cheek. You kiss her softly, slowly, so gentle she has to pull you even closer so you'll kiss her firmer. Your lips move against hers and it might just be the highlight of Natasha's day, feeling you like this.

"You don't ever have to thank me. You know that's what I'm here for." You continue stroking her cheek, down her neck, and back up. Touches like this are her favourite. It warms her heart when she remembers the bruise on the side of her face, and the fact that your touch is so gentle against her skin that the contact with the bruise doesn't bother her even a little bit. "I love you."

Natasha hums softly, moving to lay on top of you now. She kisses you again, whispering against your mouth. "I love you."

You hold her close, hands running across her hips, fingers trailing up her back. She lays on you, nuzzled in and as close as possible. You don't ever want either of you to move, this is where you're content. This is your happy place.

She's relaxed now, happier, and you know today's at the back of her mind still but for a moment, she can forget about it. She feels safe now, comforted. You're her happy place, her everything, her lifeline. To her, you make it worth it.

"Get some sleep for me okay?" You murmur into her hair.

You feel her nod against where she lays on your chest. "Only if i can stay here."

You give a soft laugh, rubbing a hand up her back and tangling into red hair. "Always."

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #avengers x reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff drabble #natasha romanoff angst

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aft3rhrs · 1 year ago

Text

— hangman ღ

number: unknown. pt 2.

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: strangers to lovers

warnings: dead dove, yandere, smoking, manipulation, corruption, allusions to depression and anxiety, allusions to past familial abuse, kidnapping, drugging, hints of fear kink (mind games, mentions & threats of snuff and necrophilia), allusions to cnc, mentions of stalking, angst, obsession, dub con, humiliation, praise, choking, possessiveness, outdoor sex, rough sex, dirty talk, use of triggering words in an erotic and degrading manner* (listed under the cut), creampie, mindbreak (??? a tiny bit), aftercare, mentions of murder and corpses, revenge themes, softer towards the end

*use of the word “rapist”.

masterlist

It's been three weeks since Jungkook has started seeing you in clubs. Five weeks of silence since the last phone call. It didn't take a lot for you to let your guard down, a tempting invitation for a predator like him. Were you passing time drinking, hoping he would finally come around and see where you've been hiding? Terrified of the moment fantasy bleeds into reality, but unable to resist its pull?

He didn't have to wait long to find out.

He caught when you were walking home, heart throbbing the moment he finally felt your warmth. The thick shadows of the alley concealed your bodies, and if anyone were to walk by, they'd see nothing but a pair of lovers embracing in the dark.

No one would notice the cloth damp from chloroform pressed into your mouth, or the way his voice made your frightened form soften in his arms.

"It's okay," he shushed. "It's just me, baby..."

A monster familiar was better than a beast unknown.

"I'm sorry, I just need you to take a nap. I'll take care of you. I promise."

He pressed his lips into your forehead, stroking your hair as you limped in his hold, less conscious by the minute. A kiss goodnight, marking your departure to the empty dreamland that swallowed you whole.

Jungkook scooped you up, carried you to his car, then laid you down at the back before starting the engine.

The drive was smooth, the roads long and dark, inky outlines of trees thickening as they stretched forward. The little dress you wore barely covered your legs, prompting Jungkook to turn the heating on; even if his jacket already kept you warm.

Two hours later, you began to stir.

Your eyes opened, hazy from sleep and the drug running through your system. Your consciousness fluttered awake slowly, along with all of your senses. You registered the feeling of Jungkook's heat blanketing you, his arm tight around your waist, keeping you tucked into his chest. You registered the weight of his hand cradling your cheek, and the smell of his cologne, mingling with leather.

"Had a good nap?" He murmured, his breath tickling your lips.

You blinked a few times, taking in the dimness of his car, and then the hooded eyes staring right into yours.

As if the reality of the situation just dawned on you, you startled, an incomprehensible protest fleeing your mouth. Your body seemed too weak to fight, however, and your mind wasn't in a much better place.

Jungkook buried his face in your neck when you jumped, brushing his nose along the smooth skin.

"Sorry, baby. I know you're tired, and we haven't seen each other in so long—" he whispered. "I've been going crazy without you."

You shivered promptly, your brain still muddled and heart thumping in your chest. You had no idea what was going on, and you were afraid to find out. Pride out the window, there was no denying that fact.

"But that's why tonight's a special occasion," Jungkook continued, still whispering. He lifted his head, the tip of his nose bumping into yours. "You know I'd do anything for you. Tonight I need you to do something for me."

You swallowed thickly. You wished you had the energy to slap him, kick him, bite him; but you felt too heavy.

"Go to hell," was all you managed, raspy and weak.

Jungkook chuckled. The sound made your blood boil. Fighting back only ever seemed to encourage his depraved nature, and it was humiliating, somehow, if not utterly discouraging.

"Hell is wherever I have to live without you," he mumbled into your cheek, "and trust me when I tell you, baby, you're never getting away from me again."

Your stomach sank, reaching depths you had no idea were possible. You watched him slip away from you to get out of the car, and the cold air that poured in wasn't the only reason your legs started shaking.

Like a gentleman, he reached for your hand and helped you out, most likely aware of how weak your knees felt. He steadied you against the door, letting you take in the dense woods surrounding you, the grim sight of empty branches twisting into the autumn sky.

You tried not to let the worst scenarios flood your head, yet it was a difficult wave to hold off; and impossible to run from.

"Where are we?"

Jungkook reached into his pocket.

"Out of town, little doe."

A glimmer of silver among the dark scenery caught your attention. You found yourself going rigid, staring at the shovel laying on the damp ground.

A click had your head snapping down. The barrel of a gun brushed against your hip, tender, like a lover's touch.

"Wanna get to work?"

The world tilted off its axis, your blood running cold, ice as blue as your veins.

You were going to die.

There was a small part of you that seemed to crack at the thought, prompting tears to burn your eyes. It wanted you to cry, plead him to stop and just take you home, to bed, so you could sleep it all away.

Yet a bigger part of you felt somewhat betrayed. He touched something dark inside of you, fed it until it bloomed, and now that you were so damaged he wanted you six feet under?

Jungkook bit his lip, a meek attempt at holding back a smile.

"Don't look at me like that. Not every girl gets to dig her own grave, you know. I even bought you flowers."

Still and silent as a statue, you didn't answer. The lump in your throat was too thick, the static in your head growing louder.

Jungkook leaned in, his gun languidly caressing your hip and plush lips teasing your ear.

"Here's your noose, baby. Are you ready for it?"

Your noose...

Were you supposed to trust him with it?

You were walking forward before you realized it, fists clenched and steps unsteady. You could have spent hours running through the woods, and you still wouldn't be able to escape him. Whether this was a sick game or your last night breathing, there was no denying that fact, either.

"You know what?" you snapped, grabbing the shovel, "I would rather die than spend another minute here with you."

You still tried to blink your tears away, refusing to give him the satisfaction, the last shreds of your dignity. You shoved the sharp edge of the tool into the earth, your vision blurred.

"I would rather die than ever see you again."

You were too busy throwing away the dirt, then digging in to gather more, to notice the way Jungkook's jaw tensed.

"I would rather be in the ground, than be around a psycho freak like you!"

The louder your voice rose, the more your throat ached, tears spilling over despite all your efforts. You continued to dig, completely disregarding seeing Jungkook walking towards you.

"Wow. I would watch your mouth if I were you, honey," he warned lowly, stopping a few inches behind you.

The shovel struck the earth again, a chill crawling down your spine.

"Ever gotten off to snuff porn?"

You froze, wide eyes staring into the ruined ground before you.

Jungkook ran his finger down your back, making you shiver.

"Well, I haven't. But I might start soon, with my personal little movie star, if you're not gonna be a good fucking girl."

The implication had your mouth instantly shut. You couldn't bear to turn around and look at him, or even run. Rooted to the place you stood in, withering away, like the trees that trapped you.

Jungkook snaked his arms around your waist, the gun still in his hand, flat against your abdomen.

"I don't like it when you lie, baby," he muttered, placing a kiss on your neck.

Your head was spinning strangely, shallow breaths leaving your lungs.

"Bet your pussy's wet. Probably been wet since I grabbed you. Bet it's clenching right now and you can't stand it, so you choose to be a fucking bitch... As always."

He kissed your neck once more, hot and breathy against your skin. Your knees almost buckled.

"You're so fucking dirty. Do you want me to snuff you out? Hmm?"

It was disgusting, the filth he spouted, the way he pressed himself closer to you, hard beneath his jeans. The way your tummy churned was worse, heat radiating on your skin despite the insistent brushes of the frigid wind.

"Want me to fuck you into that grave?"

You couldn't stop the tears, silent and hot, flowing in tandem with the slick sticking to your underwear. You still felt drugged out, your outburst doing nothing but leaving you hollow. Tiredness was beginning to take over, numbness spreading through your bones.

Maybe Jungkook was right. You were no better than him; aggression remaining your only self defense when you were left vulnerable. But now that it has faded, a quiet, devastating acceptance was starting to settle in.

You hated him — because you hated yourself. You wanted to be normal, to heal from the things that broke you. And every attempt ended in failure. Instead of encouraging you to try again, or critizing, Jungkook was the only person who wanted you as you were. In pieces.

He didn't mind getting cut on the shards. In fact, it seemed he'd be ecstatic to bleed for you, offer you everything he had. Toxic and twisted, no end to his devotion.

"Keep digging," he said hoarsely, then took a step back.

Like he was trying to stay in control.

You obeyed, sniffling quietly as you bent down to pick up the shovel.

He told you once that not everyone was made for this world; and you clearly weren't, but that was okay... because you were made for him. That you could keep trying to fit in and keep failing if you wanted — or let him in.

You didn't, and he crept inside anyway; a tender violence.

At this point, you didn't care much if you died or not. At least everything would be over. In the end, you didn't have much to wake up for.

Jungkook lit up a cigarette. He drank in the sight of sweat shining on your skin in the dim light of the moon, the shift in your demeanor as you continued digging.

"Easy," he called, blowing out smoke. "Don't hurt yourself, darling. That's my job. It doesn't need to be that deep."

You ignored him, no longer in the mood to talk. Or to provoke him any further, for that matter. Your arms almost trembled as the hole in the ground grew deeper, whether from strain or nerves, it was hard to tell. The thought of your body laying in the dirt, cold and forgotten, felt both unsettling and peaceful. As though nothing mattered anymore.

Jungkook watched you struggle, fingers stiff around the shovel, and yet you kept going, the scattered pile of dirt behind you increasing. He was pissed off, but finishing his cigarette soothed the fire, while noting how pale you've begun to turn put it out altogether.

He threw the bud away and jumped off the hood of his car to make his way towards you. His hand settled on your waist, pulling you up, while the other took a hold of the shovel.

"That's enough," he murmured, dropping it aside with a small thump. "Good girl."

You let yourself melt into death's arms.

Your head lolled to the side, exposing the expanse of your neck, unconsciously giving Jungkook the access he wanted. He kissed the tender flesh, squeezing your hips, still hard and hot beneath his jeans.

"The end is always a new beginning, baby."

You sighed, mascara wet and heavy on your lashes. Gently, Jungkook turned you around to face him, wiping the dark streaks from your face.

"I love you so much," he breathed into your lips.

His body was solid against yours. Your only source of warmth. Dizzy, you barely had the chance to glance up at him before he kissed you, swallowing your shaky exhale.

You let out a mellow squeal when his hands traveled down your legs, gripping your thighs to lift you with ease. For the first time you found yourself clinging to him, kissing him back with equal hunger instead of denial. You wanted to forget the world around you, the grave you've dug for yourself, much earlier than tonight.

Jungkook took a step, then another, before giving up entirely and lowering you down beside it, disconnecting your lips from his only the moment he hovered above you.

Pupils blown out, inky hair messy, he cupped your cheek, his heart thumping right against yours.

"Are you scared?" He asked softly, his thumb still wiping at your tears.

You stared up at him, trying to hold on to reality, but as always, your grip was slipping, and he was the only lifeline you had left. He stirred up the muddy waters in your heart, agitated the unbridled, starving things within their depths.

"Is this a punishment?" you found yourself uttering, barely a whisper.

Jungkook cocked his head to the side, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips.

"Mm, not really. Just a little game, to end all the others. And start something new."

You didn't know what to think or feel anymore, your hair splayed out on the ground, so cold beneath you, Jungkook's heat bleeding into your skin from above, and the world spinning.

You smacked his arm when he dipped down to mouth at your neck again; drained, the distorted hands under the water still reaching to pull him under with the remnants of your anger. He laughed, as though he found it adorable, immediately grabbing your face to kiss you again.

He didn't hesitate for a second, unzipping his jeans with one hand, and you could feel your core quiver against your better judgement. It was surprising to find that there was still some clarity left in you; or maybe it was easier to make peace with death than with the fact that you were your own traitor.

"Want me to fuck you in it?" Jungkook breathed, forcing your thighs apart.

You couldn't help the way your gaze fell down to his inked hand, wrapped around his cock. He tapped it against your inner thigh impatiently, precum wetting your skin. You clenched around thin air, spine tingling.

"The grave," he clarified, smirking.

The words finally hit you, and you shook your head, your hands frantically pushing at his chest.

"No!" you cried out, nails almost slashing the skin of his neck.

Jungkook grunted, pushing back, leaning his entire weight on you to put an end on your antics. Your breath hitched when you felt his fingers dip inside your underwear, pulling it aside abruptly. He didn't comment on how drenched the flimsy material was. The moment you were exposed, he was pushing inside you, incapable of focusing on anything but the warmth of your cunt.

The small hole stretched so nicely to accommodate him, fluttering around his cock. He groaned into your mouth, and your thighs shuddered around him, a restless heat boiling deep in your gut.

"You're so wet," he moaned, pulling back to feel the ring of muscles clench against his flushed tip, trying to suck him back in.

He shivered at the feeling, then proceeded to fuck himself in and out of you like he needed; like you both did. Hard.

"You're a filthy fucking minx, I shouldn't ask you anything unless I'm inside you. Your pussy won't lie to me, hm?"

Despite the whines he coaxed out of your throat, you shook your head, every wet slap of his cock thrusting in and out echoing through the woods. Imprinting on your brain.

"Oh yeah? How about we rewind a little, baby?"

He fucked you faster, angling his hips to find that little spot that made your mouth fall open. He wasn't going to go easy on it, or on you, chasing the high.

"What's gotten you so soaked?" He managed, panting. "Did you like the thought of me snuffing you out?"

Cheeks aflame, a choked out protest; and yet your pussy was getting tighter, soaking the thick grith pounding into it.

Jungkook let out a sound akin to a whimper, eyebrows scrunching.

"Fuck, I know you did," he leaned his forehead on yours, feeling his cock throb. "I know how much you want my cum, screaming or dead or asleep. And if I could live without you, baby, I'd do it for you, keep you so full of me."

A revolting insinuation; but you couldn't tell the difference between nausea and an approaching orgasm making your stomach twist.

Jungkook's lips inched towards yours, a deep groan rumbling out.

"That's it. Let it go. Let it all go, angel."

This was the way he wanted you to fall apart; on his big cock, tasting the kind of euphoria nothing and no one but him could offer. He felt his balls tighten, heavy as they slammed against you, almost ready to spill everything he had.

"Mhmm—" a sigh, a pause, hips grinding as his hand clutched your neck, feeling your pulse jump. "Yeah."

A drop of sweat slipped down his temple. Beautiful, with a mouth that dripped depravity, he might as well have had two horns growing out of his head, a forked tongue hidden under the illusion of humanity.

He resumed his ruthless pace, unwilling to let you look away, dissociate from him. In fact, the way you squirmed under him, succumbing to the rush, pliant and loud as you cried, had him choking you harder, crushing the rest of your pride.

"Close?" He bit down on your lower lip, pulling on it. "What do you think your friends would say if they saw you like this?" He husked, his hand crawling up your chest. "Getting fucked out in the woods... by your stalker. Do you think they would be surprised?"

He fondled you over the soft material of the dress, focused on nothing but pumping you full of him. You felt like heaven, and your tight little cunt responded to his words, even if you didn't want to, fluttering and releasing more slick.

"They shouldn't be," he swallowed harshly, watching your eyes fall closed. "They don't know you at all. Don't know how much you like this cock forcing you open."

For the first time that night, it was clear that your thighs weren't trembling from fear. That greedy pussy wasn't letting him go, and Jungkook was tipping towards the edge, no filter on his thoughts anymore.

"But I know," his head fell into your neck, a hot mumble striking your skin. "You're such a good girl, such a good fucking girl, and such a dirty fucking whore, just for me— aaahhh, fuck."

There it was; his favorite way of getting to you. Kissing, biting and licking at your monsters until they'd submit, recognizing him as one of their own. His cock liked it too, the way you fell to pieces under him, back arched and hands digging into his shoulders.

"I feel you, baby," he groaned, "knew you'd cream my cock. That's all you can think about, isn't it?"

You whimpered, delirious, though it still sounded like a 'no', a cute, little lie to ward off your guilt. For some reason, it turned Jungkook on more. He lifted his head and sucked at your lower lip, rutted into you harder.

"Go on, baby," he breathed, "cream it. No need to be shy, you're already mine."

A trail of sloppy, possessive kisses marked your neck, electricity trickling through your spine.

"My prettiest baby, my only girl," Jungkook babbled drunkenly. "Go on, do it for me. Yeah..."

Eyes dark, locking on yours, his voice lowering to a shaky whisper.

"Come on your rapist's cock."

You unraveled like his word was holy, clamping down on him and ripping a hoarse moan out of his throat. He fucked you through it anyway, too close to the edge to stop his own fall; his cock throbbed, long spurts of hot cum filling your ruined hole, so deep and so good his eyes rolled back.

He swore filthily, knees like cotton and his hand digging into your throat, staking his claim, the rush too sweet not to let it linger. It flowed through his entire body, pulsing and warm, like the sun. It flowed through yours too, imploding, and wiping out the rest of existence. As far as you were aware, Jungkook was all that was left.

You didn't feel anything else; not the passage of time, nor the cold air grazing your arms. Only his lips, leaving kiss after kiss on your face, muttering praises you could barely make out with your mind numbed out.

You weren't sure how long you've spent laying there, his cum leaking out of you, bones like jelly and skin sticky. At last floating in the dark, like fog, and still being kissed all over, your flesh existing only where his lips touched.

By the time he pulled you up, you didn't have the capacity to wonder what was going to happen next.

So why were you crying again?

You even didn't notice until Jungkook sat you on the hood of his car, cupping your cheeks.

"No more, baby," he pleaded. "Relax. I've got you."

You were so tired.

You wished you could lie down and sleep, but Jungkook reached for the hem of your dress, inching it up.

"I'm gonna need this."

Your heart flipped. Still, you were too out of it to protest or ask why.

Goosebumps flooded your skin as he took the clothing off you, gently, leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

As if shutting down, you stayed there; once again, unmoving. You listened to the trunk pop open, stuck on the odd rustling sound that followed. A loud thud came, making you flinch.

Then, more rustling.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jungkook dragging something towards you, a faint, unpleasant smell of blood reaching your nose.

Your stomach turned.

You stared at the bag, and he stared at you, unceremoniously dropping your dress on the wrapped up corpse.

Perhaps it was the way you gasped that had him reaching out, the same hands that took a life massaging your bare sides to comfort you.

"Close your eyes for the next part, baby," he whispered.

His nose brushed against yours. You felt your lower lip tremble, but still did as he asked.

"Good girl," he praised.

Frowning, you attempted to make some sense of what was happening, attempted to keep your heart from jumping to your throat.

It did anyway.

Sensing your distress, Jungkook kissed your lips.

"Remember a girl called Jia?"

No more pounding, or skipping beats. Everything seemed to come to a halt, including your heart.

Jungkook squeezed your waist. His voice remained quiet, a ghost in the wind.

"Not a pretty sight."

Inhale.

Exhale.

He took a hold of your trembling hand, leaving a loving kiss on each knuckle.

"Tonight, you die, baby," he murmured, the next kiss landing on your temple. "And nothing bad will ever happen to you again. Just you and me, yeah?"

The tears that fell were different now. Something broke. But it felt like release.

The soothing warmth of his hands vanished, and you kept your eyes closed. Even as the bag rustled and the stench got worse, even as another thud echoed through the empty woods.

How did he know?

Somehow, it still surprised you. Somehow, you couldn't bear to disobey him as he filled the grave you dug up, burying the biggest nightmare of your past. The so called family that had torn your life and soul apart.

There was no doubt in your mind that if he found her, he found him, too.

You listened to the metal dig into the earth again, dirt gathering on top of her corpse. Clad in your dress, butchered, rendering her unrecognizable. Teeth, face, hands — ruined. Jungkook had thought of everything, it seemed. A perfect crime.

The only traces of DNA left? Yours. Whatever still lingered on that little black dress.

As of tonight...

You were were dead.

Jungkook threw the shovel away, huffing, then made his way back towards the car. He heaved a sigh and pulled you in, held you close, sheltering you from the rest of the world.

Your fingers wrapped around the fabric of his sleeve, squeezing.

He acknowledged the gesture by kissing the top of your head, eyes closed. There was no rush, really, besides the longing to finally take you home and get into bed to sleep.

No more games. No more pain.

The end was always a new beginning.

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#dead dove #yandere bts #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts reactions #bts smut #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jungkook smut

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twilightkitkat · 2 months ago

Text

Part 2 of thinking about the reaction another universe's Logan would have to meeting Wade. To Wade and Logan's relationship.

Part 1 , Part 3, Part 4

---

It'd been a few days since Wade had revealed the truth to Wolverine.

He'd expected things to be awkward, for them to fight over it, for Other-Logan to pull away so that his previous annoyance-indifference would look warm in comparison.

But, shockingly, things had gotten... easier?

Wolverine seemed more comfortable with him, becoming more talkative than before (which wasn't exactly hard to top, but progress is progress). Instead of yanking away the second Wade got too close for comfort, he'd let him brush by him, close enough that Wade could feel his body heat through the seat. Instead of sitting a respectable five feet away at all times, Other-Logan now sat at a friendly distance, close enough to sling an arm around his shoulder if Wade was in a particularly masochistic mood.

It was nice to feel like he had companionship in a world where he knew no one. It was comfortable. It reminded him of his own Logan sometimes, when he could close his eyes and drown out his thoughts and pretend that he was on a mission with Logan in his world instead of in the middle of fucking nowhere with a shitty knockoff.

Well, "shitty knockoff" is a harsh way to put it. This Logan wasn't that bad (he was certainly less anger-prone than his counterpart). It just... wasn't the same. It's like wanting a bowl of Lucky Charms at 2am so you go to a Dollar General and buy a copycat brand to satisfy your craving. Yes, it's similar, but no, it isn't the same.

And fuck, did Wade feel his Logan's absence.

It'd especially hit at night, when Wade was used to curling up on the pull-out couch with Logan beside him and pretending that he was shuffling closer so he wouldn't fall off the edge.

(They both were able to sleep in far more precarious positions. A perk of the job. But under the veil of darkness, they were able to pretend that they weren't vying for touch just to have it. To feel the warmth of someone else next to them. To know that they were both alive and safe and, despite everything, here with each other.)

But, even if Wade curled in on himself at night, feeling the chill in his bones despite the luxurious blankets in the mansion or whatever insulating sleeping bag he was using, he was fine.

So fine, in fact, that it didn't bother him at all that it'd been nearly a week since he arrived in this universe. Not that he was counting. (He was.)

Logan was probably fine. Wade would send him a message or something, let him know that he was okay and that the mission was just taking longer than expected, but interdimensional texting hadn't yet been invented. Or, at least, the TVA bastards were cheap enough to not let him access it.

Besides, they'd been making progress. They were finally working their way up to beating The Big Bad, to telling whatever evil organization was plotting to destroy this timeline to fuck off and go to hell.

As a matter of fact, they were on their way to a particularly promising lead right now. All the henchmen they've managed to get information out of seemed to point their fingers to the same place, some discreet nuclear power plant that had been shut down a decade ago. (Real original, guys. Why don't supervillains ever set up base in a less stereotypical place? Like a public park or an Olive Garden. But nooooo, it always had to be the shady abandoned government facilities.)

"You seem to be thinking real hard over there, bub," Wolverine remarked, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Oh, y'know, just the usual, like what your abs would taste like if I covered them in whipped cream. Would it be more salty, or sweet? Do you think they'd taste metallic if you'd been roughed up lately?" Wade slid back into his typical persona instead of lingering on his unhelpful desire to mope around until he could go home.

Other-Logan snorted. "I think you're thinking way too hard about my abs when you should be focusing on your plan for when we get to the base."

Wade pouted, "Awwww, c'mon, Wolvie, don't you know that my pleasure comes before our job? You only live once, fuck capitalism and all that."

"Without capitalism, you wouldn't have the money to get 'pleasure,'" Logan deadpanned.

"Ah yes, you're right. I'm but a humble servant to the almighty Capitalism King. I shall kill and show no mercy as long so long as my king asks for it." Wade clutched a hand over his heart dramatically, voice imitating sincerity but a few pitches too high.

Logan just shook his head and chuckled, trying and failing to suppress the grin that threatened to stretch across his face.

It looked good on him. A far cry from the serious, no-nonsense, version he'd first encountered. Who knew all it took to have someone open their heart to you was revealing you were besties in an alternate universe?

"We're here," Logan grunted, smirk falling off his face as he climbed out of the vehicle.

"Fucking finally! One hour longer and I think I'd puke all over your shiny yellow suit," Wade whined obnoxiously. Logan elbowed him harshly in response. Ouch. Manners.

The base was exactly what you'd expect. Just run down enough to not attract suspicion but just well-kept enough to be home to some freaky villain technology.

And, also as expected, as soon as they entered a blaring alarm went off. Flashing red lights and all. Just great, exactly what he needed today. Wade was definitely going to end up with a headache by the end of this raid. They're lucky he didn't have epilepsy or he'd sue them.

Wolverine didn't seem to be faring much better, judging by his furrowed eyebrows and how he was barely holding back a grimace.

They make quick work of whatever lackeys they find as they tear their way through the halls. They'd definitely improved their synchronization during the time they'd spent fighting together (mainly on Wolverine's part).

Finally, they arrive at some sort of convoluted metal dome with a suspiciously alien-looking machine in the middle. It didn't seem to be an exact replica of the Time Ripper Wade knew, but it was close enough to make an educated guess about its purpose. (An educated wish, some may say.)

Unfortunately, it wasn't left unguarded.

Some old-looking bald guy (never a good sign) with a metal arm (again, never a good sign) was holding a suspiciously futuristic gun. (Who is this, Cable's long-lost twin with a receding hairline gene?)

Deadpool unsheathed one of his katanas, gripping his gun tightly with his other hand. Wolverine shifted into a battle stance beside him.

"And what do we have here?" The man drawled, his piercing gaze sweeping over them both. "Deadpool and... Wolverine? An interesting team-up." Despite this, he didn't seem too surprised. If anything, he seemed to be glancing warily at Wolverine beside him.

"I don't have time to listen to your monologue, how about you just undo whatever fucky-wucky stuff you did to the timeline and we all head our separate ways, yeah?" Wade was nothing if not merciful for offering this fucker a chance to stand down before it got ugly.

"I don't think so," the man huffed, as if he found it amusing that he'd even suggest that. He was starting to get on Wade's nerves.

"Then let's cut the chit-chat and get straight to the ass beating." Deadpool nodded at Wolverine, who smirked almost imperceptibly.

They both lunged at the same second, Wolvie swiping at the bastard's head while Deadpool fired at his legs and torso.

Oh fuck, this guy has a regenerative healing factor too, Wade groaned internally when he saw the bullet wounds stitch themselves up. Just his luck.

The battle was more difficult than expected, but they managed to hold up fairly well by bouncing off each other's attacks. When Wade moved in, Logan moved out. When Wolverine sunk in his claws, Deadpool fired his gun or slashed with his katana.

That was until the bastard injected himself with some sort of serum, like a heroin addict stopping to shoot up during a fight.

That better not be what I think it is, Wade grimaced.

It was exactly what he thought it was.

Fighting a meaner-looking, more equipped version of Cable was hard enough, but on steroids? Wolverine and Deadpool soon began to lag behind. Even their teamwork couldn't help much when the opponent was that much stronger and they both were becoming exhausted.

However, Deadpool saw an opening. The fucker wasn't guarding his flank properly. And so, without warning, he flipped over the asshole's head and slashed at his side at the same moment Logan sank his claws into his neck. (Yay, teamwork!)

It seemed to hit some sort of weak point because the man slumped down onto the ground, unconscious. Wade sighed in relief and walked over to Logan.

"Hey man, I don't know about you, but when we get out of here I think we should get some chimichangas to celebrate—"

Bang.

Wade was flung into the wall with the sheer force of whatever futuristic weapon the man shot him with. Fucking rat bastard.

His head began spinning with the force at which he'd been full-body slammed against the wall. His vision was blurred and it was hard to make out shapes, but it seemed that Logan was having the same issue, given the red, blue, and yellow spot on the wall opposite him.

His vision was dancing with black dots and colors bled together, but through the haze he could make out the man they'd fought getting up and limping away, seemingly talking to someone as he did so.

Wade groaned and tried to lift his hand up to feel the wound on his head when he noticed. There were fragments embedded in his suit where he'd hidden it.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

In his haze, he managed to yank the tattered remains out of a device from his suit. Oh shit. It was broken.

How the hell was he supposed to get home now?

He didn't have time to linger on the question before darkness overtook his vision.

---

Logan paced back and forth on the shitty hardwood floors of their one-bedroom apartment.

Where the hell was he?

Wade was supposed to be back a month ago. Hell, the mission was only supposed to take a day and he said he'd be back for dinner that night.

But then that night passed, and Wade didn't show. Logan had waited at the table, bouncing his lex anxiously (although he'd deny it if anyone asked) long after Al reluctantly went to sleep and Mary Puppins settled down for the night. He remembered waiting, staring blankly at his plate but unable to stomach a bite, until he finally decided to put their food in the fridge to reheat later. He felt vaguely nauseous at the idea of eating peacefully while Wade was still frolicking about, fighting bad guys (and potentially getting hurt).

Logan fell asleep in that position, his head resting on his arms, hyperaware and jolting awake at the slightest sound. Waiting to hear the jingle of the doorknob and the sound of Wade shuffling in.

When Wade came back, Logan would tell them that he didn't care what the mission was about or what type of universe it was, he'd come with him next time. No room for arguments. He'd rather be bleeding and bruised by Wade's side than feel the gnawing emptiness and anxiety of being apart from him.

Logan never dealt well with separation. Not when it came to Wade. The only person who made this universe he'd barged his way into a home. The one who'd looked at him—a pathetic, miserable, drunk, mess—and still asked him to come home with him. The only person to make him feel like he belonged somewhere, to someone. That he wasn't just an unwanted, shunned monster who could only be loved for the destruction he could cause.

When Wade was gone, it felt like he was alone again. Like he was back in that shitty universe where even the fucking bartender refused him service unless he begged. Where everyone mocked him or shied away but nobody looked him in the eyes.

Wolverine was used to being alone. He'd been alone, in one way or another, for as long as he could remember.

But that's why he latched violently, viciously, desperately, onto the first lifeboat he could. The first person to yank his head above the water and welcome him onto their raft without expecting anything.

The next morning came and Wade still hadn't come back.

Logan tried to convince himself that it was just taking a second longer, that maybe he'd encountered an obstacle, that everything was still okay.

(Don't be overbearing, Logan. If he sees what a needy, writhing, mess you are then he won't want to be around you anymore. He'll finally wise up and leave you behind like everyone else. Like how you deserve. He'll finally see you for the pathetic creature you are instead of the delusion of a man he's been holding onto.)

But then that day turned into two. Turned into three. Turned into nearly a week in which he hadn't heard a word from Wade.

(Accept things how they are, Logan. Take the warmth you can get and savor it, clutch it so tight to your chest that your fingers bleed, and don't ask for more. Don't ruin this.)

Blind Al had tried saying something, once, about how Wade might just be running that. That he was having troubles, you know how it is (but even she had a worried crease to her brow, the slightest bit of hesitation that spoke volumes). Logan had grunted something he couldn't remember and kept pacing.

It felt like every day was an endless loop. Wake up, choke down what food he could, and wait anxiously. Wait to see if Wade would stroll through the door.

Until one night, he snapped. He'd just gotten out of the shower (the first he'd taken in a while, with how difficult it was to focus on anything but Wade Wade Wade Where is Wade Where—) when he noticed Wade's shitty music box was playing. The one he had of him.

He saw red. The next thing he knew, he stood in a completely trashed living room. Chairs were knocked over and splintered, bottles were shattered, and blood was splattered across the walls from where he'd raked his claws up and down his arms in a desperate attempt to get out of his skin because it was burning so badly and he just wanted to crawl inside Wade instead of being trapped in a useless fucking husk of a mindless animal—

He barely scraped the room back together by the time Al got back. He knew she was able to tell, but she didn't say anything. Just sat down on the tattered couch and murmured something that suspiciously sounded like Wade's name.

Logan was barely functioning. It was a Good Day if he managed to eat, shower, and not drink himself into a stupor by night. Every day that went by made the knot in his stomach twist further until he could barely remember what it felt like to not be on edge constantly.

(He knew it was pathetic. That he should be better than this. That he shouldn't need Wade to babysit him to make him want to eat and sleep and shower and do all the things that normal people were expected to just do. He knew that he shouldn't revert back to a state of depression and anxiety when he was gone but Logan didn't know what to do. He'd been fucked up for so long that he didn't know what okay meant anymore, didn't know to just breathe without clenching his teeth and forcing his lungs to expand and contract.)

(The only time he got relief from the reminder of who he was and what he'd done was with Wade, who knew him and still somehow wanted him. Who made him feel normal, like he could just be Logan and live a domestic life as a borderline househusband in their apartment. Who made him feel like he had a future and a chance at happiness again.)

At first, he could convince himself that it was just the mission holding him up. That he was being unreasonable. (Why didn't Wade just take him along to begin with? He'd let Wade talk as long as he wanted, take the lead, and annoy him however he liked as long as he could be with him.)

But then doubt began creeping in. What if Wade realized that he really was the Worst Wolverine? What if this universe's Wolverine was better than him—nicer, stronger, less fucked up—and Wade preferred him. He wouldn't blame him. Hell, he knew Wade only settled on him because of a time crunch and the fact that he didn't claw his eyes out immediately. If Wade had more time, he would've gone with a better option.

(Logan chose to ignore the instinctive dread he felt at that thought. What if Wade hadn't come for him? What if he found another Wolverine and he was left to be drunk and miserable for the rest of his life, never knowing Wade's presence? The thought made him physically ill.)

But Wade, despite what people said, was a man of his word. He kept his promises and tried to avoid lying. Even if he did decide to fuck off and find another Logan, he'd tell him first. He'd let him know, at least.

As the time crept closer to a month, Logan's anxiety reached an all-time high. If Wade was taking this long, something must've gone horribly wrong. He's in danger.

Logan couldn't pace back and forth anymore, listening to the TVA rattle excuse after excuse when he called them to ask for an update. (It's confidential, they said. Don't worry, they said. Eventually, they got so used to him calling—without fail, twice a day, once in the morning and once at night—that they'd immediately forward him to the line he needed. And they'd always give the same excuses.)

Not anymore.

Logan was going to find Wade, even if he had to rip the whole fucking TVA or multiverse apart to do so.

---

Wade groaned, slamming his forehead against the counter before eating another spoonful of cereal.

The X-men still hadn't found a way to fix his universe-hopping device. To be fair, back in his universe it'd taken a while to fix Cable's time-jumping one, and Wade's sure that dimensional travel adds a whole new level of complexity. The TVA does not fuck around with their technology.

That being said, at least the rest of the X-men were starting to take the timeline issue seriously. They'd finally all decided to pitch in and try investigating on their own time.

"Look alive a little, bub, we're going on a mission today." Logan eyed Wade as he continued to eat his high-protein classic bacon and scrambled eggs breakfast.

The other X-men eyed them curiously. Logan had been acting differently as of late. Ever since Deadpool had come to their world and began hanging around him, he'd softened around the edges. He'd become a little more open, actively engaging with conversation instead of tuning in and out.

It was... nice to see him close to someone. To see him look at someone with an odd sort of affection visible in his eyes. Even if it was a little jarring.

(A few wondered what Wade had done to earn his affection. How a single man could swoop in and do what they'd been trying to do for years. What was so special about him? Why couldn't they reach him earlier? What were they doing wrong?)

It was good to see him be close to someone. Even if it stung a little that Wade made more progress in a month than they'd made this entire time.

Aside from that, the X-men had been able to interact with Wade more ever since he started spending a bit more time at the mansion.

When he'd gotten knocked out and his dimensional travel device broken, it'd taken a few days for him to fully regenerate (and mentally recuperate). During that time, him and Logan seem to have developed an odd kinship. A casual, friendly relationship where they eat meals together and occasionally, in between missions, watch shows together, or just... talk.

It was a little unnerving to see Logan so willing to act almost domestically with someone else. Of course, the X-men had managed to coax Logan into hanging out with them more casually. And sometimes, they'd gotten the privilege of seeing how his shoulders would relax and he'd become content to just listen and soak up the company. But those occasions were few and far between, and Logan's default state was to keep a certain degree of distance.

Wade had begun to interact with the other X-men, too. He'd taken to teasing Colossus to pay him back for the many headaches he'd given him in his world. Logan often trailed a few steps behind, trying and failing to pretend to be engaged with something else while keeping an eye on Wade. It'd be endearing, almost, if it wasn't so out of character for him.

Unfortunately, after the villain had escaped, their luck seemed to dry up. They'd only gotten a few leads since, and all were dead ends. With too much time to spare and too much pent-up energy (and anxiety to some degree over being away from his world for so long), Wade accompanied Wolverine on a few of his other missions.

Wade sighed and pushed away the remainder of his cereal. Well, there went his appetite. Thinking about his world and his Logan was a surefire way to kill his mood.

(It made him feel sick to think about how Logan was faring without him. To question when he'd get to see him again. To remember that this wasn't His Logan. It was always uncomfortable to be away from him for too long, to feel the same loneliness settle inside him like an old friend. What a joke. He saved the world just so he could whine about how he wanted it to revolve around him.)

(Logan never made him feel that way. He understood how it felt to lose everyone and still tremor at the thought. He understood the struggle of knowing you'd outlive everyone you love. He understood because they'd been through it together. Because they'd shared their pain and their feelings and their hearts and bared themselves, raw and vulnerable and bloody, before each other and still sacrificed themselves for each other anyway.)

"Not in the mood?" Logan asked. "Y'know, we have other types of cereal. Think they keep Captain Crunch or Cheerios or some shit around here."

And Wade almost screamed in frustration.

It was so stupid. Logan was trying to help. But Other-Logan wasn't His Logan.

His Logan knew that he hated that type of cereal. That he drenched his pancakes in syrup. That he was a picky bitch with food and would only eat certain brands. He'd learned to cook food just for him so that he could eat comfortably.

He was about to take a few centering, deep breaths (never claim he doesn't know how to be zen) before an alarm blared.

"There's been a break-in in the main lobby of the mansion!" someone shouted.

Huh. That's a convenient way to get information. A very good way to move the plot along.

The X-men around him were tense, drawing their weapons and preparing to investigate who dared intrude. Wade got ready too, drawing his baby knife just in case. (Not that he really can take the moral high ground here, considering he did the same just a month ago.)

Other-Logan glanced at him from the corner of his eye and Wade nodded. The two slinked along the walls, braced for an attack.

Loud crashing noises could be heard from the lobby. Furniture slammed against the wall, shattering into a million splinters (strong ass motherfucker, it seems). There was yelling and screaming and... growling?

The cacophony got louder as they drew closer. Except, Wade began to recognize the sounds. They were distinct, clear, and... familiar.

Too familiar.

Holy shit.

"Logan?" he breathed, and then he was darting out from behind the wall even as Other-Logan let out an aborted shout and attempted to grab his arm.

He slipped through his grip and turned the corner, and lo and behold, there he was.

His Logan.

He was snarling, claws unsheathed and raised to attack the people who swarmed him. They all seemed terrified and incredibly confused (given that he had the same face as one of the X-men themselves), but seemed to recognize him as an enemy and were making a quite frankly pathetic attempt to fight back.

He was breathing heavily, sweat dripping down his forehead and eyes darting around anxiously. He had a feral look on his face, like a cornered animal that had just escaped his captors.

His eyes were somehow distant and hyper-focused, as if he was running on pure adrenaline without really registering anything.

He looked furious. He looked serious. (He looked scared.)

It was the sweetest sight he'd ever seen in his life.

"Peanut!" Wade shouted, pushing through the people who crowded around.

Logan's head snapped in his direction immediately, body trembling.

"Wolvie! Babygirl!" he continued to yell out nicknames as he drew closer, finally elbowing past the last line of unhelpful bystanders.

"Logan," he murmured breathlessly, reverently, at finally getting to see him again. To see him up close and personal.

As soon as he muttered the word, Logan pounced.

From behind him, Other-Logan and a few of the X-men yelled for him to move out of the way, that he was hostile.

But Wade knew that face. Knew those eyes.

This wasn't just A Logan, this was His Logan.

(His Logan, who knew how he liked his pancakes. Who listened to him rant about stupid conspiracy theories and children's shows. Who had gone through hell and back with him just to help him save his family. Who he'd slowly, painstakingly built a home with.)

And so Wade simply opened his arms and offered a shaky, wet, smile as Logan barreled into him, wrapping around him like he'd die if he let go for a second. Digging his fingers (with the claws retracted, luckily) into his back and gripping onto the fabric of his suit like a lifeline. Shivering against him as if he were a man stranded in a blizzard, finally able to huddle up against a fireplace.

And oh.

Logan was crying, hot tears trailing down the curve of Wade's neck and soaking his suit as Logan nuzzled closer, desperately.

When Wade went to stroke the back of Logan's head and brushed against his own damp face, he realized he was crying too.

He'd been trying so desperately to push down his feelings. Of frustration, of anger, of sadness (of fear). To pretend he didn't miss Logan like he missed air, to pretend that the separation wasn't putting him on edge.

He knew that Logan would worry about him. Wade wasn't that oblivious. But he didn't think Logan would be nearly full-body sobbing against him, rocking back and forth, trying to convince himself that Wade was real.

"Please, never do that again. Don't leave."

And oh.

Wade knew that Logan cared. Knew that Logan would be upset, would miss him, if he disappeared or died. Logically, he knew that.

But Wade was used to being seen as annoying. To being someone people could begrudgingly tolerate, maybe occasionally find funny, but never actively want. Was used to being seen as lesser.

Physically, he was a freak. Mentally, he was a wreck. Emotionally, he was one bad day away from trying (and failing, yet again) to end it all.

He didn't understand how someone could want him. Could need him. Could make him their whole world and cradle it in their hands like his absence would be the collapse of their very foundation.

And yet, here Logan was.

When Wade considered it, it was obvious in hindsight. Logan may respond to his insults, and may be up for a fight, but he never actually seemed to be bothered by Wade. When Wade called him stupid nicknames, he may grumble out a response, but never showed actual annoyance. When Wade slung an arm around his shoulder, he'd let it rest there or lean in closer instead of pushing it off. When Wade goaded him into a fight, he'd rise to the challenge but never unsheathe his claws unless Wade drew out his knives, too.

In fact, he'd only shown true irritation when they'd first met. When Wade had kidnapped him and turned his life on his head. When they were struggling under high-stress situations while Logan grappled with grief.

Logan... more than cared. More than tolerated his existence. More than reluctantly put up with him.

The realization was so obvious and yet it hit Wade like a freight train. This whole time, he'd been trying to convince himself that his feelings were one-sided, that he was abnormal for latching so hard onto Logan while he only humored him in response.

He'd let his self-hatred blind him to the most obvious fact of all: Logan needed him too.

He clutched Logan's back tighter, murmuring reassurances and apologies into the top of his head.

"I'm not leaving you, Wolvie," Wade whispered, "you'll have to kill me to get me to stop haunting your ass."

Logan grumbled, "You aren't allowed to die on me. You can't leave. Ever."

"I won't, I won't. You came and got me. I'm not going anywhere."

While Wade and Logan had their reunion, the crowds were herded away until only a few X-men remained. They stared at the two, bewildered.

"...Is that seriously Logan?" Jean murmured to Scott.

"It looks like him... but..." he gestured to the scene in front of them.

They'd never seen Logan break down before. Had never seen him so vulnerable. He'd never let anyone as close as he was to Wade, right now. Not even a fraction as much.

They cast contemplative and vaguely concerned glances at their world's Logan. He was staring hollowly at the scene in front of him.

It was so... odd to see himself like that. Open. Emotional. (Safe enough to let himself be that way.)

Wade had never acted that way with him, either. Tears welling up in his eyes, looking at Logan as if he hung the stars in the sky and set his universe back in balance again.

(Logan looked back at him with the same fervency, as if Wade was his universe. The stars and the sun and the planets all in one.)

It made that familiar envy curl in his gut. Before, it'd been muted by the fact that Wade's Logan was just a story. He was the one physically with him, able to get to know him and learn about him and get his undivided attention and time.

It felt nice. To be understood. To be able to treat someone as an equal, a companion, without worrying about them pulling away if he revealed too much. He'd gotten used to Wade's presence, to the comfort it brought.

However, it looked like he was going to have to confront the version of him that made it all possible.

Wade and Logan had finally calmed down, holding each other more loosely and letting the tension bleed away. Logan nearly collapsed onto Wade as he came down from the adrenaline high, feeling the exhaustion and anxiety of the past month hit him all at once. He was in Wade's arms and finally able to process his emotions now that he was home.

Other-Logan approached them carefully, schooling his face into the typical mask of calculated indifference.

However, despite that, there was a sharpness to his tone as he tersely spoke to his counterpart, "Nice to meet you, other me. It seems you've managed to find your way into our mansion."

"Yeah, well, the mansion was holding something of mine, so let's call it even," Logan near growled, glaring at himself.

It'd almost be funny if not for the tension crackling in the air between them.

"Woah, woah, woah," Wade placated, "we've all made our mistakes. I'm guilty too, your honor. Let me just have some time alone with dear Wolvie here and we can all have a group therapy session later to talk about our feelings."

Other-Logan looked at Wade, a searching look in his eyes. Wade met his gaze steadily, smiling slightly to reassure him that it'd be OK.

Finally, he sighed and moved away to let the other X-men gawk.

It was going to be a long night.

#poolverine angst #poolverine #deadclaws #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool movie #deadpool 3 #wade x logan #wade/logan #wade wilson #logan howlett #angst #x men #kitkat #PART 2 BABY #btw I just want yall to know that ur comments mean the world to me and inspired me to write this #i might make a part 3 where the plot is truly resolved (TM) if yall want it #i am on my everyday post grind lets go

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strangersteddierthings · 2 months ago

Text

Gut Instinct: Prologue

Here is the start of my fic for the @steddiebang2024! A HUGE thank you to my art, @calxeria, and my beta-reader, @zombiecreatures!!

[Art] [Ao3] [Prologue] [Chapter One]

On July 7th, 1985, Robin wakes up in Steve Harrington’s bed and begins to believe in the unbelievable, in the impossible. She's got a whole list.

The waking-up-in-Steve-Harrington's-bed would be the most unbelievable thing to ever happen to her, if not for the whole Russians-under-Starcourt, giant-flesh-monster, girl-who-can-throw-stuff-around-with-her-mind thing. So, second most unbelievable thing, because she’s going to count all of the aforementioned as one thing.

No, that's a lie. It's the third unbelievable thing. The second was before the giant-flesh-monster and girl-who-can-throw-things-around-with-her-mind, but after the Russians-under-Starcourt. In a bathroom. With Steve confessing his crush, and Robin confessing hers, but not for Steve. He didn't get it at first but then. Then his quietly spoken 'oh' morphed into a more excited 'oh! Me too!' and it was Robin's turn to be confused until he clarified: girls and boys.

Steve Harrington came out to her as bisexual while under the influence of Russian truth serum, or something, and that has to take second place.

Back to the third thing. She can’t lie, when Steve had first asked if she’d stay the night, she was wary. Yeah, they’d gone through hell together, but beyond surviving the worst days of their lives together, they didn’t exactly have a lot in common, and she'd really hate walking home alone if things were too weird.

Turns out, friendships are built on more than shared interests. Steve is bitchy in a fun way, hilarious, and so easy to talk to. They banter back and forth like they've known each other for years rather than weeks, a surprisingly easy transition from the (not-actually-very-friendly-at-the-time) teasing Robin had been giving him all summer at Scoops. They'd talked all night, sat on Steve's bed because the living room had felt too open, and Robin doesn't fully remember falling asleep the first time, but she does remember waking up from a nightmare and Steve was already assuring her she was safe, that he wouldn't let anything happen to her. He'd asked if it was okay for him to touch, and she'd launched herself across the bed and into the hug he offered. For a boy who had admitted to having a crush on her 72-hours ago, give or take, there was no romantic intent in the hug, and Robin fell asleep easily in his arms.

So, Robin wakes up in Steve Harrington’s bed but no longer in his arms because she's star-fished out on the center of the bed, half her limbs flung across his back because he'd rolled onto his stomach. She rolls off him and sits up to stretch and look at him. One arm is stuffed under the pillow, the other hanging off the bed with how close to the edge he is. His face isn't turned to her, but she can see a damp spot on the pillow. She's willing to bet good money that Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington drools in his sleep.

Then, the fourth most unbelievable thing happened - not that she realized at the time that it was going to make the Unbelievable But True list – as, for the first time, she witnessed Steve predict the future. Or something like it.

He rolled over, still asleep, and said, 'Dustin'll be here soon.'

It's been just a few days since Starcourt and Dustin was, as far as she could tell, Steve's best friend. It made sense he would show up and check in. The slightly freaky part was that she had assumed Steve was awake, but he was not. When he did wake up, he had no recollection of having said anything, but Dustin did try to crash through door about twenty minutes later.

Which, sure, Robin could choose to believe was an educated guess of Steve's subconscious. But then, the coincidences didn't end.

Over the summer, she witnesses him not once, not twice, but a whopping eight times buy a winning scratch card. Never a large amount but always enough for whatever he was wanting or needing, spanning from money for beer to money for some bill or another. When she questioned if gambling was the proper solution to pay the bills, he'd laughed and said gambling has a chance of losing, and since he's never lost, he wasn't sure scratch cards were actually part of the lottery.

More times than she wants to keep track of, he's reached out and halted her walking just in time for something that would have hit her to zoom past her face. Doors, other people, a few baseballs when they walk past the park, an entire stack of video tapes they'd been seeing how tall they could get once they got hired at Family Video, and even one memorable time of him hauling her back out of the crosswalk and a cyclist rounding the corner quickly. Sure, it wasn't saving her from a car, but she can't imagine it would have been a fun time getting hit by a bike instead.

He's always next to the phone when it rings, no matter where they'd previously been in his house or Family Video. He'll just meander away mid-sentence (his or hers) and stop near the phone just as it rings. He always knows who is on the other side of the door, though the doorbell ringing or knocking sounds startle him when he isn’t expecting anyone. When he is expecting someone, he never startles.

Of course, nothing definitive or proof-worthy happens. All of these things could be coincidental. Just Steve happening to be the luckiest person alive. The only option left is to ask Steve himself.

A perfect opportunity presents itself when she rides along with Steve to the gas station so he can purchase beer. They skip by the two closet places, and instead end up at the gas station on the far side of town. She stays in the car and just watches as he sets the pack on the counter and chats with the cashier, some guy with a voluminous beard. There's a bit of back and forth between the two, then Steve pulls out his wallet and pays, gets back his change along with two scratch cards, and then Steve's back in the car, placing the beer in the trunk before sliding back into the drivers seat.

"Here," he offers out the scratch cards, which Robin takes because she likes to scratch them.

"So, why did we come all the way to this gas station?" Robin asks as she take her thumbnail to the first card and Steve backs out of the parking space.

"What?"

"There are so many gas stations closer to where you live. Why this one?"

"Just followin' my gut, Robs," Steve's voice is cheeky, and she knows if she were to look up from the card to him that his face would have a cheeky grin on it.

"That makes no sense."

"What, you don't listen when your gut tells you things? You know, like the saying. Follow your gut, or whatever."

"People usually say to follow your gut for like trying to figure out what to do when faced with big decisions. Not to buy beer," she finishes the first scratch card. A fifteen-dollar winner. When no response comes from Steve, she looks over to him. His face is pinched in the way it gets when he thinks he's said the wrong thing and is trying to figure out what it was. He doesn't take his eyes off the road even when she adds, "hey. What's with the face?"

"It's just- when you make decisions, does it make you nauseous?"

"Uh, it was pretty nauseating when I was deciding whether or not to tell you that I was jealous because Tammy was looking at you."

"Yeah, yeah, sure, but I mean, like, not for big things."

She thinks on it. There have been little decisions, like what to wear, but they've all been tied up in bigger decisions or thoughts, like trying to catch the eye of a crush or auditioning for a solo in band. "Hmm, not really?"

Steve lets out a sigh. "That's what Tommy said when I tried to explain it to him. I just follow my gut. Like, I'm not always nauseous. Sometimes it's just like, a pull, or a good feeling? But that's kinda new."

The second scratch card is not nearly as important as this. She shuffles in her seat, struggling a bit against the seat belt, to sit more sideways and face Steve as best she can. "Explain from the beginning."

"Well, for as long as I can remember, I've just always had this feeling about things, and like, if the thought would have a bad outcome, I'd feel sick? Like, uhh, example... example..." Steve trails off before thumping his hand against the steering wheel in triumph, then snapping his fingers when he must recall something, "Oh! One time in middle school, my friends and I wanted to sneak into the school for- well, that doesn't matter but what does is this part. I thought about how getting caught meant my dad would be furious, and I was almost instantly nauseous. At that point I'd already learned the sudden queasiness meant I had to not do the thing I was thinking about. So, I stayed home. Learned the next day they had gotten caught breaking in. And a more recent event, you know that story Dustin told you about the junkyard and the demodogs?"

"How could I forget? Steve's so awesome, Steve's so brave, Steve's the greatest, isn't he, Robin?" She raises her voice rather than dropping it to mock Dustin. He was still in his Steve-and-Robin-should-date phase while regaling Robin with stories of Steve's heroics in the past.

They've come to a four way intersection, slowing to a stop. Steve looks all directions before going forward, then he speaks. "My only thought all night was, like, I have got to make sure these kids are alright. Nothing else matters, so long as these kids don't get hurt. And so, even though I knew leaving the bus to be bait was borderline suicidal, there was no sickness. No- not even a mildly upset stomach. And I just. I knew it would end up okay."

That eases something in Robin she hasn't even been aware needed eased. Steve has been quick to throw himself against dangers, so if what he's saying is true, he doesn't do it recklessly. "Hmm. And just now? Why that gas station?"

"I don't really... it's like, lately, I just know? I just knew if I tried the first two, they wouldn't accept the fake ID. I didn't know that the last guy wouldn't even bother to card me, just that the first two wouldn't sell to me. And it's... that's new."

"New?" Robin prompts.

"The just knowing. I've always been able to steer clear of bad decisions, or like, things that won't work out how I want them to. But the knowing that it's going to work out is new."

She looks down at the scratch cards in her hands. Both winners, she's sure, even though she hasn't scratched the second one. Certain enough to cover the cost of the beer and the cards, so the next second one has got to be at least five dollars, maybe ten, unless Steve is short on the electric bill again. "Do you think you're a psychic or just super lucky?"

"Psychic? What, like a fortune teller or something?"

"Mmm, I don't think you need a crystal ball or tarot cards, but sure."

The car comes to a complete stop and he kills the engine. Robin looks out the car to see they're back at his house. She hadn't even noticed the drive. "I can't tell the future, Robbie."

"Well, how do you know?"

He unbuckles, then shrugs. "I guess I don't. I can't, like, tell you if it'll rain tomorrow or anything like that, but if I get up in the morning and grab the umbrella on the way out the door, I know it's going to rain at some point. That feels more like luck to me."

She unbuckles and climbs out of the car, can hear Steve doing the same thing. "Well, maybe that's what seeing the future is? Just being lucky with what happens next."

He rolls his eyes and turns away, heading to unlock the door to let them in his house.

She watches him go for a moment, wishing, not for the first time, that he didn't have to live here alone. Robin's spent almost all summer here but with school starting again, her senior year, she'll have to spend weekdays at her own home. Her parents have always let her run wild during summer break, but they won't allow her to be gone as much once the school year starts.

Another unbelievable thing for her list. Everyone knew Steve's parents were gone a lot, but she never believed they'd just abandon him. That had been a late night confession, back on that first night she stayed. Kind of the reason she agreed to sleep over. He'd sounded so... neutral about the confession, when she'd asked if his parents would be bothered she was there.

"Not their house anymore, so who cares," Steve had said, emotionless.

"What?" She'd asked, surprised.

"Not their house anymore," Steve repeated before elaborating, "when I didn't get into college, they traded my trust fund for this house instead. Mom left me a voicemail letting me know." He pitched his voice higher after that, imitating his mom she guessed. "Steve, honey, your father thinks it best that we just give you the house. Since you aren't going to college, it'll be better. Won't have to worry about getting a good paying job for a mortgage, you see? Can just get started with the making-a-family part of life. We revoked the trust fund to buy a house in Paris with the money instead."

She learned later that it hadn't been worded exactly like that, and there was no mention of Paris, but it did boil down to them not believing Steve would make anything of himself, and they 'wanted him to be able to start on solid ground' which, apparently, meant home-ownership.

She hasn't told him yet, but she's planning how she'll decorate and paint her room after she graduates. She's going to take a gap year and live with Steve. Help him figure out what he wants to do in life, and then help him achieve it as best she can.

"Are you coming?" Steve shouts from the front door and Robin startles back to herself.

"Yeah. Just enjoying the outside world while I still have time."

"It's school, not prison!"

She just grins back at him as he shakes his head and goes inside without her, and it strikes her then and there. She loves Steve Harrington.

She's got a list of Unbelievable but True things she has to reorganize now.

5. Steve Harrington can predict (at least his own) future. 4. On July 7th, 1985, Robin woke up in Steve Harrington’s bed. 3. Steve Harrington came out to her as bisexual. 2. Russians-under-Starcourt, giant-flesh-monster, girl-who-can-throw-things-around-with-her-mind thing. 1. Robin Buckley loves Steve Harrington.

#gut instinct #my fic #steddie #steddiebang24

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runnning-outof-time · 3 months ago

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Some Calm in the Midst of War | Wartime!Tommy Shelby x Reader

request: yes by @cybubuvubbu

pairing: Wartime!Tommy Shelby x Reader

summary: (Y/N) meets a soldier in a club. Not wanting to let go of this taste of calm amidst all of the chaos, they extend their moment of revelry into something a bit longer.

warnings: language, smoking, talks of war, suggestive situations (pg-13 in nature…I think)

word count: 1721

a/n: so this is what I decided to do in order to get these requests that have been sitting for months out to read. I really focused on just letting all of the inhibitions about it go and writing. Whatever gets put down gets put down, and however it gets put down flies also. I’m sorry if this isn’t what you were hoping for/looking forward to from me, but please know that I’m doing this in hopes that it’ll help me figure out what I want to do next. Ok, I’m sorry for making this so long…enjoy! :)

a/n 2: I just can’t bring myself to write completely nsfw stuff but I wanted to take this request in this direction, so I hope anyone won’t be annoyed at the fact that it’s not explicit smut. This’ll probably be the closest my writing will ever get to it.

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

comment/message me if you want to be tagged!

The unlikely pair met in a club. She was - once - a woman of higher class, and he was a man whose family lived on next to nothing. But now because the war had ripped through both of their lives, they were finding solace in each other.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her all night. She was there with some of the ladies who she worked alongside as a field nurse. He'd come into town with his company, whom he was in command of.

Both looking for some semblance of what their lives used to be; looking for a way to escape the hell they’d been stuck in.

She was the one who approached him. "Saw you staring from across the bar," she started, her confidence earning some whistles from the men who were accompanying the man she was speaking to. One was even quick to leave his stool, offering the space to her. The man was surprised how quickly his men left them alone. "Thought it'd be a crime not to come and talk with you," she brought his attention back to her, her lips curved up into a smile.

He didn't know what to say at first. Prior to this, he wasn't sure if he was even going to take things further than a couple glances in her direction. But now he couldn't take his eyes off of her, and shit... he still didn't know what to say! A laugh filled with disbelief left his lips as he finally tore his eyes from hers.

He took a drag from his cigarette before looking her way again. One thing he wasn't going to do in this situation was fuck this opportunity up.

The two didn't talk much. Sure a brief conversation occurred, but it wasn't long before she was pulling them to the dance floor so they could join in with all of the other carefree couples.

The fact that he wanted to stay after the first song was over shocked her. It was evident though that she was the only reason he wanted to stay.

They exchanged a kiss before even exchanging names.

It wasn't surprising to see how quickly they became engrossed in one another. All they'd known for the last stretch of time was war and the feelings, not to mention sights, of terror that came with it. Neither knew when they'd get another moment like this...so they most certainly weren't going to waste it.

Their connection grew over the next several dances they shared. Soon enough the tender at the bar was yelling last call and they were ordering one last drink together.

Both weren't able to find the groups that they'd arrived with, so they decided to bask in each other's company for as long as they were able.

They finally got to talking, sitting at the bar until the keeper was telling them they needed to leave.

It was during these conversations that they found out just how different of lives they had led prior to this point. Funny how war had the ability to blur the class lines. Neither cared at the moment that the other wouldn’t have even spared a glance prior to now. They simply cared about feeling human again.

She brought him back to the room she'd been given for her brief time of leave from the field hospital. Tensions had risen between them as they walked closely together down the street. There was purpose in their step and things reached a fever point the second they stepped across the threshold into the small room.

The slightest look was shared before their lips met. No words needed to be spoken. What they both wanted was written clear across their faces.

Their walk to the bed looked more like a dance as they blindly fumbled with each others’ clothes. By the time her back hit the mattress, she was left in a blouse and underwear and he his trousers.

Another look was shared as a pause was taken. They were both breathing heavily, but this time he asked: “are you sure?”

She blinked a few times, as if it was her own way of checking that he was indeed real and that this was really happening. She couldn’t remember the last time she was in a position like this. The longer the pause was held, the more it became evident that she would be insane not to let the opportunity pass. “So sure,” she breathed in response, a smile playing on her lips.

His mesmerizing blue eyes turned a shade darker as he heard her response. A grin spread across his lips, and he brought his hand up to take hold of her cheek before she matched her lips to his again.

Their kisses were slower this time around. Both wanted to savor this moment, as they knew it may be the last like it they’d ever get. Inhibitions were thrown out alongside the rest of their garments and nothing more was said as they found a connection with each other.

Sweat stuck to their bodies and he made sure to hold her close, both reeling from the feeling the other was giving them.

They couldn’t remember the last time they felt this good. It was a feeling they never wanted to end.

Leaving was something neither of the two even thought about when they were finished. Their limbs stayed winded together, and they continued to exchange languid kisses as they came down from their highs.

“Shelby,” she breathed, her eyes focusing on the disc that was hanging around his neck. The disc that would be used to identify him if something were to happen in the field of battle.

Its presence made reality return to her mind. A reminder of the war they were still very much engrossed in flooded her thoughts, shrouding the state of bliss that she was previously experiencing.

“Tommy,” his voice brought her out of her thoughts.

“Huh?” she asked, focusing on him again with furrowed brows.

“My name’s Tommy,” he clarified.

“It’s nice to meet you, Tommy,” she said, then giggling as the context of the situation came to mind…usually these sort of introductions were done before she joined a man in bed.

Tommy cracked a grin at her statement, a chuckle leaving his lips before he leaned down to kiss hers, stifling her laughter in the process. “What’s your name?” he asked as they broke apart.

“(Y/N),” she answered, her smile still present.

“It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N),” he used the same greeting as she had, and they both began laughing again.

Their laughter subsided as their eyes met, and the tension they’d been feeling from the moment he spotted her at the club arose again. Nothing more was said as their lips molded together for the umpteenth time that evening.

Tommy was the one to break away, but he didn’t move far. He kissed a line from her lips down to her jaw and settled against the crook of her neck. (Y/N) sighed wantonly at the feeling, her hands tangling in the longer parts of his hair as her heart rate increased.

“Tommy…” his name was uttered in a breathy moan, “Tommy, I don’t…” she couldn’t quite keep her thoughts straight as his lips trailed lower, finding a new home in the valley between her breasts. It was becoming harder to think with each passing second, but she felt she needed to get these thoughts out. “I don’t usually do this—I’m not usually like this.”

He stopped his ministrations and lifted his head to look at her again. She sighed at the loss of feeling. “What do you mean?” he asked, his brows furrowing together in confusion when it took her a few moments to respond.

“I’m not usually this…” she paused, struggling to think of the right word, “…easy,” was what she finally settled on, although it still felt as if there were better words to use.

Tommy’s brows straightened only slightly. “I never thought you were,” he told her honestly.

“Things have been so different with the war and all,” she continued to explain herself even though he didn’t ask her to, “it’s been so long—too long, since I’ve been in a situation like this so forgive me for being unsure of what now needs to be done, but I just…my fear is that I won’t have a chance to experience this again…” she paused, feeling her chest tighten, “things are so uncertain now…”

“Hey…” he cut her off she could continue. She bit on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering, unable to match his gaze for fear of it making her tears fall. “Look at me, love,” he gently coaxed her, his hand cupping her cheek so that he could make their eyes meet. A solemn expression was present on his features as he reached up to brush away a tear with his thumb.

“I’m sorry,” (Y/N) apologized, now feeling pathetic for turning their passionate moment into this.

“Don’t be,” Tommy shook his head, his thumb running gently against her cheekbone. He searched her eyes for a moment before continuing, “no harm will ever come to you,” he told her, “not from me, not from anyone else…not while I’m here,” his words were spoken with the utmost truth, and his eyes never wavered from hers.

(Y/N) wasn’t sure what to say. She’d never had someone profess something like this to her…especially not someone who was a stranger a few hours ago. But in this moment it felt so right, and hearing those words alone gave her some hope that maybe they’d both be okay.

She smiled at him, reaching up to slowly run her hand against his jawline. “You’ll be here?” she asked him, her eyebrows raising slightly.

“Until I can’t be,” he assured her, a smile playing on his lips.

His response made (Y/N)’s smile widen, and nothing more was said as she gently took hold of his chin and brought his lips to hers once more.

Staying true to his word, Tommy stayed with (Y/N) until they both had to ship out to their posts again. Both were equally grateful to enjoy some calm in the midst of war.

Check out THIS ARTICLE that I found about the history of how identification tags were used throughout time — it’s such an intriguing read!

**ALSO - the italized words that Tommy said at the end were taken from the caption on the photo from the request, which were taken from the movie The Edge of Love.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings

@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver

@stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder

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@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond

@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo @novashelby

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #fanfic #fanfiction

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thevoidstaredback · 8 months ago

Text

Adventures In Gotham

Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant Side Story

The first time Danny had ever been to Gotham, he swore it would be his last. He was twenty-two at the time.

In an effort to relax after finals had ended, he, Tucker, Sam, Val, Wes, and Dani had been playing a round of Truth or Dare after finishing a few movies. Sam had dared Danny to wander around Gotham without attracting attention to himself. The catch was that he wasn't allowed to use his powers except to fly there and back. His time limit was Sunday night.

They'd all been planning to stay the night at Sam's anyway, so no one would even notice he was gone. Though, the dare had seemed easy at the time, Danny should've realized his luck was not that good.

Regardless, he flew to the outskirts of Gotham City, dropped his transformation, and entered.

The first thing he noticed was that there was some kind of bubble around Gotham preventing the Shades and overall feel of death from leaving. It was overwhelming at first, but he got used to it pretty quickly. The next thing he noticed was that he had walked into somebody's haunt.

Shit.

He made himself presentable and spoke to the night, "I apologise for trespassing," His voice echoed through the open area as though he was shouting in an empty room. Ghost Speak tended to do that. "I mean no hostile intentions. I simply wish to play a game with your protectors." With any luck, whoever this was would be playful or friendly, at the very least. He didn't hold his breath, though.

A lie. He was holding his breath, but that's only because he was nervous!

The night air stilled as though considering his words. Then, a breeze from behind pushed him further into the city. Flapping wings of bats and owls seemed to hide the whispers of "You may come in." and "Be careful." and "You will lose." and "Good luck.".

A vote of confidence from the City Spirit. "Thank you." He was going to be as quick as he could, but he couldn't draw attention to himself. Easier said than done. Batman seemed to know whenever anyone ever stepped foot into his city, especially if they've never been there before. So, he had to play hide and seek with Batman and Robin.

Again, easier said than done.

Danny knows very little about about Gotham and her heroes and villains. What he does know is that Robin is fairly knew to the scene, but also very serious in what he does. He's still a child, though, and he likes to play around a bit. Batman, on the other hand, has already become something of a cryptid, despite only showing himself a year or so ago. Either way, the two balance each other nicely and work well as a team.

Batman and Robin obviously know the entire city inside out, so Danny has to somehow keep an eye on where they are at all times while not drawing attention to himself. Which would be easy, except for the fact that Danny can only sense where non-living beings are. Batman and Robin are very much alive. He's pretty sure. Unless either of them have a shit ton of Shades attached to them, which is unlikely but not impossible, then he'll have to rely on finding them first and keeping them within his sight as he tours around their city.

Why the hell did he agree to this? He so deserves a reward if he succeeds.

'When', not 'if'. 'If' is pessimistic and implies that Batman might just drop him off a building and watch him fall. 'When' at least lets him continue with the illusion that he may get out of this no deader than when he arrived in Gotham.

All he had to do was basically tour the city, then he'll be done. It went well for the first hour, but then he spotted the shadows moving around him. It wouldn't normally be a problem, but one of those shadows was made out of bright colours. Seeing as his Ghost Sense didn't go off, Danny figured the he'd just run straight into Batman and Robin.

Shit. Fuck. Okay, play it cool, Danny.

He ran. He ran as fast as he could without using his powers. When he was sure he'd lost the two vigilanties, he allowed himself to stop in an alley somewhere in the Narrows. (The map he looked at was coming in very handy all of a sudden)

"Could be worse," he said to himself, backing into a corner.

The sound of shattering glass and the scurrying of mice and rats gave the impression of laughter and taunting. Which, rude, but fair.

"Your Knights, my lady," he spoke into the darkness, "are terrifying."

"Who you talking to?"

Danny did not jump. He didn't! Liar.

The kid, about twelve years old, was in bright green, red, and yellow. His hair windswept and he didn't seem even the slightest bit out of breath, let alone tired. Shouldn't he be in bed? Did he have a bedtime? He should have a bedtime, in Danny's expert opinion.

"Did you know that humans are endurance hunters?" Robin had been smiling since he dropped down in front of Danny. And if that wasn't a scary ass line to hear from a twelve year old up way past his bedtime-

No, he's not intimidated. "It's, um, a good thing I'm not completely human then, huh?" Stupid, stupid, stupid! Shut up, Danny! Stop talking! Right now!

This made Robin frown and the shadows started to move again, Batman taking his place just behind the boy. "What do you mean?"

Damn, he's scary! Danny's a sucker for a deep voice with a growl, damn.

"I, um," Intelligent response, Danny. King of the Realm Between Realms of Infinity. Keeper of Balance, Timeless Protector of the Dead and Living, and he can't even form a proper sentence.

Batman and Robin's stares were uncomfortably similar, even as Robin tilted his head ever so slightly to the right.

For all his wisdom, Danny couldn't see how he could manage to get out of this without using his powers. So, "Gottagobye!" he let intangibility and invisibility wash over him and he slipped through the wall behind him. From there, he let the rings of light cover him and he flew away.

He'll take the L. That was scary as hell!

The night wind brushed against him, the sound of breaking bones and cackling telling him to come by to play again some time. Had Gotham's City Spirit lead her Knight and his child to Danny? Probably. She seemed like the type. At least she seems to like him? Silver linings.

"I'm never going there again," he muttered halfway to Illinois.

Storyboard

Tag List:

@zaiothe4th @someonebored0100 @wolfeyedwitch @angelheartgamer @nymanders @princessbelix @luminanightfall @kgne-k @bianca-hooks123 @reigning-catsanddogs @sassywombatranchhorse @dontfightmecauseillcry @soul-lime @anarinette @serasvictoria02 @the-chaos-goblin-child @confusedshades @caicie @fantasticstoryteller @randomshtickidk @itsberrydreemurstuff @blueliac @i-love-mangoes @nymanders @highimpactemotions @anarinette @sleepingdead96 @orbr @tkiesai @atomicsheepscientist @8000fangirl @shower-phantom-ideas @blep-23

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 year ago

Text

The Look of Love.

Synopsis - You, Buck and Eddie are absolutely, undeniably, head over heels in love with each other. It seems like everyone can see it except for the three of you.

Pairing - Evan Buckley x Female Reader x Eddie Diaz

Warnings - none!! just idiots in love.

Word Count - 1k

Author's Note - oh my buddie heart was bursting while writing this. whenever I watch 911, I always think about how easy it'd be to be friends (or more than) with eddie and buck. and then this was born!! hope you enjoy reading this sweetness as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

Buck twirls you around, strong arms circling your waist. Your feet don't touch the ground as he spins you, the skirt of your dress billowing in the breeze. You lean back in his hold, and catch sight of Eddie throwing Christopher up in the air, both of them laughing.

Buck puts you down and grins at you, Cheshire cat smile bright and blinding. You smooth your hands across his chest, flattening out his crisp white dress shirt where you've crinkled it. You tug at his bow tie, straightening it gently. Your gaze meets his, and you beam at him.

"Have I told you how handsome you look tonight, Evan Buckley?" you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck to sway with him. There's a smooth, jazzy melody echoing through the huge backyard, illuminated by golden, twinkling lights.

He quirks a brow at you cheekily before answering.

"I wouldn't mind hearing it again."

"I'm sure you wouldn't," you laugh, shrieking as he dips you backwards quickly.

"Well, you look very handsome. I like you in a tux."

You swear you see him blush slightly, heat creeping across his cheeks. He finds his confidence again, sliding his hands across the exposed skin of your back slowly.

"You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen," he tells you sincerely, eyes never leaving yours. "I should tell you that more often."

"Yes, you should," you tease, grinning at him.

You take notice of his smile, his relaxed shoulders, the way he's swaying with you effortlessly.

"You love weddings, don't you?"

"Hell yeah I do!" he replies delightedly. "Everyone I love all in one place, dancing, music... what more could you want?"

You can't wipe the smile off your face. He's right. The entire 118 is here, together as a family. Everyone is happy, excited to be celebrating Bobby and Athena's vow renewal. It's not often you all get to leave work at work and enjoy yourselves completely. You plan to make the most of every single second.

You feel two warm hands find your hips from behind, instantly leaning back into the broad chest behind you, knowing who it is immediately.

"Hola, Mr Diaz."

"Hola, hermosa."

"You gonna keep her all to yourself all night, Buckley?" he asks, wrapping his arms around you, over the top of where Bucks are already resting. You're sandwiched between the two of them, completely content.

"We were avoiding you and your terrible dance moves," Buck jokes, the three of you swaying together now.

"Are you hearing this?" Eddie asks incredulously, chuckling into your ear. "My terrible dance moves?"

"Don't listen to him, Eds. His ego lies to him."

"It's called confidence! Sorry if I have faith in my dance moves!"

The three of you laugh, bodies and souls tangled and intertwined on the dance floor.

Across the backyard, Chimney and Hen are sat at their table, watching you, Buck and Eddie move to the music, arms wrapped around one another.

"They really love each other, don't they?"

"Oh, yeah," Hen laughs. "Wish they'd all just admit it."

Chimney looks at his best friend in confusion, brows quirked and face crumpled.

"... What?"

"Oh, come on, Chim," Hen chuckles. "It's twenty twenty three. Get with the program."

"You mean, like, love love," Chim confirms, still puzzled.

"Yes, Howie. Love love. In love. The three of them are completely in love."

Chimney processes for a moment, before a light bulb goes off in his head.

"Oh, shit!" he laughs. "They totally are!"

"Damn, men are oblivious. How am I the only one that's noticed?"

"You aren't," Bobby and Athena say in unison, pulling out chairs to sit at the table.

"But we can't rush them. Good things like this take time," Athena offers.

Bobby glances over at the dance floor. You're holding Buck and Eddie's hands, and Chris is too, the four of you dancing and laughing. He smiles for moment, before speaking.

"You know they basically live together?"

When he's met with confused faces, he continues.

"They all crash at Eddie's place with Christopher so often, they've practically moved in. Buck hasn't slept in his own apartment in months."

"I mean, how do you even... navigate something like that? The three of them? It's so complicated," Chimney asks genuinely.

"They'll figure it out," Bobby assures. "They always do."

With that, he rises from his chair and across the yard. He scoops Christopher up into his arms, promising him cake and soda, much to Eddie's dismay. He winks at Buck before carrying Chris away, leaving the three of you alone.

Eddie surprises you by grabbing your hand and then Bucks, pulling you both away from the crowd.

"Come on. I wanna show you something."

He leads you up and into the guest bathroom of the house, rolling his eyes at you and Bucks suggestive comments. He's first to climb out the window and onto the roof, making sure you get through safely in your dress.

The three of you sit and watch your friends in the yard below, quietly reflecting. You're suddenly aware of the way you're sandwiched in between them again, thighs pressed together. You lean left and rest your head on Eddie's shoulder, interlinking your right hand with Bucks.

"How lucky am I?" you breathe. "To be surrounded by so much love."

Eddie rests his head atop of yours, smiling as he watches Buck lean in to rest his on your shoulder. The three of you exhale.

"We're the lucky ones," Buck murmurs. "I never thought I'd have this."

"Well you do," Eddie reassures. "And we're not going anywhere, Buckley."

"He's right, Buck. We're not going anywhere. Ever."

Evan sits up to kiss you on the cheek, before leaning over you and doing the same to Eddie.

The three of you sit on the roof, bodies and souls intertwined, illuminated by the moonlight. How lucky you are, to be surrounded by so much love.

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