#when worlds and dangers collide
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amanda-multifandom · 9 months ago
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Earth N has officially begun and ready to read!
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doe-earth-n · 4 months ago
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Fanfiction Update
BREAKING (Via FictionPress account on X): "FanFiction is currently experiencing DNS issues, which are being actively investigated and resolved. However, app access remains unaffected."
A further statement from FictionPress on X: "We expect resolution within the next 24 hours. As this error is upstream and out of our direct control, the 24 window is our best estimate currently but we hope to have this resolved earlier than that."
In other words, this is only temporary. That's some good news. Hopefully, things will get back to normal soon. I will still have the stories saved on An Archive of Our Own for backup just in case an ordeal like this happens again.
@james5-doe @novemberhope @a-shiva
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doe-earth-n · 9 months ago
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Get ready for Earth N coming REAL soon!!
"Multiple Earths" Updated
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Okay. I've tried to further clarify the newly established theory of multiple Earths in DoE storytelling. I'm not an artist, so don't expect beauty, but you get the idea.
This concept establishes that all fan-written continuations actually take place in separate continuities than that of the show (Earth E), though most have the same history as the TV series. The tale Defenders of the Earth: This Is Their Side Story revealed that travel between the dimensions was possible, allowing characters from different continuities to interact.
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torpublishinggroup · 7 months ago
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Celebrate Pride with Tor Publishing Group!
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Rakesfall by @adamantine
They met as children in the middle of the Sri Lankan civil war. Later, in a demon-haunted wood, an act of violence linked them and propelled their souls on a journey through the ages. As they reincarnate ever deeper into the future, a truth emerges: Some stories take more than one lifetime to tell.
Running Close to the Wind by @ariaste
In this queer pirate fantasy, Avra Helvaçi has accidentally stolen the single most expensive secret in the world. To avoid capture, he flees to the open sea, where only his on-again, off-again ex aka pirate Captain Teveri az-Ḥaffār can help him survive, profit, and become a legend.
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Cuckoo by Gretchen Felker-Martin
Something evil is buried deep in the desert. It wants your body and wears your skin. Welcome to Camp Resolution, a queer conversion center where everyone leaves a different person. In 1995, seven queer teens were abandoned here by their parents, but survived. Sixteen years later, they’re scarred and broken, but back to face an evil that threatens the world. 
Kinning by Nisi Shawl
In this alternate history where barkcloth airships soar and former colonies claim freedom from imperialist tyrants, the identity of the island of Everfair still wavers. Victorious in the wake of the Great War, a new threat looms. Can Everfair continue to serve as a symbol of hope for anticolonial movements around the world, or will it fall to forces within and without? 
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Can’t Spell Treason Without Tea by @rebeccathornewrites
Can one of the Queen’s private guard and the most powerful mage in existence leave their lives behind to settle down in their new bookshop that serves tea? This cozy fantasy is steeped in sapphic romance and nestled on the edge of dragon country. 
The Fragile Threads of Power by V. E. Schwab
Once there were four worlds, nestled like pages in a book, each pulsing with fantastical power and connected by a single city: London. After a desperate attempt to prevent corruption and ruin in the four Londons, there are only three. Now the worlds are going to collide anew—brought to a dangerous precipice by the discoveries of three remarkable magicians.
Now available in paperback!
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The Archive Undying by @emcandon
This is a story about misplaced faith, complicated love, so much self-loathing, and yeah—giant robots. Plugged into his AI god when its apocalyptic corruption renders him unfortunately immortal, sad gay disaster Sunai takes a die-again-or-die-trying approach to things. Unending life’s tough when intimacy is somehow scarier even than either of the warring police states set on turning you into a weapon or the rogue undead mecha-fragment of your old god that wants to eat you. 
Now available in paperback!
The Bell in the Fog by Lev AC Rosen
A dazzling historical mystery that dives into the shadowy, closeted world of the Navy, emerging in the gay bars of the city. It’s a whirlpool of missing people, violent strangers, and scandalous photos in 1952 San Francisco. 
Now available in paperback!
Celebrate Pride with more titles from Tor Publishing Group here!
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sinner-as-saint · 6 months ago
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the alchemy
Mob!Bucky x Reader 
Run-through: About a decade ago you left your home and ran away, looking for a fresh start after having had your heart broken by the boy you loved. Now you’re back and turns out Bucky Barnes – the same man who once broke your heart – is adamant on tormenting you some more. But why? Why does he want you back at all cost when he was the one who once pushed you away and crushed your heart like it meant nothing to him? What secrets has he been keeping for almost a decade? Most importantly, what truly happened that night he broke your heart? 
Themes: forced marriage/marriage of convenience, angst, mob!bucky, metal arm, fluff, smut, possessive!bucky, childhood friends-to-enemies-to-lovers trope, bratty!reader, mentions of violence, explicit language, slow burn-ish, HEA 
a/n: new mob!bucky pics dropped–
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“I do.” You said in a sombre voice, with blood dripping from the cut on your lip as you sealed your fate and married your worst enemy. 
Bucky’s face was bleeding too, your nails had done some damage earlier when you both got into a physical altercation like wild animals. You nearly smirked when you realised he looked worse than you did. 
Then again you both looked like you went through hell as you stood here, at this makeshift altar, in the middle of what used to be the foyer of your father’s mansion before Bucky and his men shot at it until it was nothing but rubble, broken glass, and cracked marble. 
Messy hair. Cuts and bruises all over your bodies. Dishevelled clothes. Your white jumpsuit had your own bloodstains on it, and his all black suit was torn in certain places. But he looked every bit the man they say he is. Dangerous. Cold, dark presence. The large bruise on his jaw was beginning to get darker now, thanks to the many punches from you. His near shoulder length hair was surprisingly looking neat. It pissed you off. 
You looked like a mess too. And for a brief second, as his blue eyes looked down at your throat, you knew he could see a matching bruise forming around your neck from when he’d pinned you down to the floor earlier with that damned metal arm. 
No one was dead, none of your people and none of his. Thankfully. But right now, as you married the man standing in front of you, you felt dead inside. 
“You may now kiss the bride.” Was all you heard and you remained still as Bucky grabbed you by the waist and pulled you into him. 
You resisted for a moment, but then he pulled you harder until your chests collided and you had no choice but to remain pressed against him. “I’m tired of these games, princess.” He hissed in a lowered voice, looking down at you with his merciless blue eyes. 
You stared back at him with equal contempt. “You’re gonna regret this, Barnes.” You sneered, in a hushed voice. Not that the injured family members and men surrounding you – both his men and your father’s guards who stood and watched the show in disbelief and shock would mind the disrespect for each other in both your tones – but you didn’t want to add to the ridiculousness of this situation. 
“Oh?” He taunted with a faint smirk. Only then did you notice the small cut on his upper lip. It brought you a little solace. “You’re my wife now, you will do as I say.” 
The bitterness in your tone matched his as you said, “We’ll see about that, husband.” 
You could tell he’d accepted the unspoken challenge, and he would do anything to win. After all, everything was a game to Bucky Barnes. He didn’t care who he used, who he manipulated, or who he tossed aside. He paraded around like he owned this world and everything and everyone in it. 
Bucky scoffed then leaned in to kiss you, hard. It wasn’t a loving kiss in any way. It was possessive though. Like he was putting on a show for whoever was watching, making sure everyone in this dilapidated room understood that you were his now. 
You kissed him back, angrily. You despised him. Your entire family did. But they couldn’t save you this time. Bucky’s attack was unexpected. Your guards were unprepared. You were the last line of defence and this… union was necessary. You had to offer something, anything. Otherwise Bucky and his guys threatened to burn down your half of the city and turned it to ash immediately. 
But it wasn’t always like this. Your families used to be allies. You actually grew up with Bucky, he tolerated you enough back then and you had always had a crush on him. 
Then that night happened almost a decade ago… 
It was your twentieth birthday party, and your father made an announcement which you were not ready for. 
He announced to the ballroom filled with important people that you were to marry Bucky, and that both families were beyond happy to transform their friendship into something more solid through this alliance. 
You remained frozen in place for long minutes after that announcement was made, even though your heart raced like never before. No one had told you about this, but judging by the way your family hugged and congratulated Bucky’s family you understood that this was all planned. 
You kept that smile on your face though, as people walked over to congratulate you. You looked around and tried to find Bucky in the crowd to see if he knew about this but he was nowhere to be found. 
You were certain he was here just a moment ago, leaning against one of the pillars and brooding as always. And he’d just disappeared. 
The announcement made your heart flutter incessantly. After all, you’d always had a huge crush on Bucky. How could you not? He was the boy you grew up around, he had pretty eyes and nice hair. Sure he was broody and rarely ever smiled but you liked how it suited his bad boy personality. And your young heart was weak for the handsome boy with tattoos and blue eyes. 
After people were done congratulating you, you discretely walked out of the party and decided to look around and try to find Bucky. You hated how giddy you were. Sure, Bucky was broody and rarely ever laughed. He spent his entire time glaring at you then getting jealous when you talked to other guys. But you had liked him since forever. 
You looked all over your father’s mansion. Bucky was nowhere to be found indoors. So… maybe the pool area outside? You started walking in that direction, feeling like a princess in your white ball gown as you walked down an empty hallway, a faint smile on your face as you looked for the man you were meant to marry soon. 
Maybe Bucky knew about this announcement. Maybe he was okay with it. Maybe this would be your fairytale in real life, you thought. Maybe you’d melt his frozen heart and everything would be perfect. Maybe he liked you back all along and you just never knew! 
“...marry her?” 
Your smile vanished as you stopped right before you stepped outside onto the patio. Was that Bucky’s voice? Was he talking to someone? You quietly stepped closer, hiding behind the plants as you tried your hardest to listen to what he was saying. 
You could see him, standing on the black tiles by the pool. He had his back to you, and he held a phone to his ear. His broad shoulders and lean waist accentuated by how well that black suit moulded to his muscular body. You watched as he ran his fingers through his short black hair in frustration. 
Who was he talking to? 
“No!” He barked at the phone. “Did you not listen to what I just said? I don’t want to do this!” He yelled, not bothering that anyone around might hear him. “I tried to talk them out of it! This is so fucking stupid!” 
You blinked in surprise, unable to process what you were hearing. 
“I don’t care what I have to do, but I will not marry her.” He said with enough venomous certitude that a silent tear fell down your face. 
All your previous delusions turned to nothing but heavy disappointment. It made you feel stupid. This gown felt stupid. The diamonds around your neck, around your wrists and in your hair felt stupid. How stupid of you to think this was all going to end well? How stupid of you to think your childhood crush actually meant something? How stupid of you to think that there was a chance he liked you back? Of course he didn’t. He wouldn’t have ignored you for years if he did. 
You couldn’t stop the sudden sob that escaped your mouth. Afraid that he might have heard, you took a few steps back and hid behind a nearby, tall potted shrub. 
Things were quiet for a moment or two. You heard him whispering so quietly you couldn’t make out what he said. Your face burned in embarrassment at the thought of him finding you here. You already felt stupid and childish, you didn’t want to get caught eavesdropping in this situation. 
But then he resumed talking on the phone. You couldn’t risk moving to look at him so you remained hiding, and listened. Your heart broke with each word that left his mouth. 
“And she’s so blind she doesn’t even see it.” He hissed, louder this time. “I barely tolerate her. Her whiny, and bratty attitude. I mean she’s a grown woman and still acts like she’s daddy’s little princess.” He scoffed. “You should’ve seen her today, she looks like a kid’s toy with that ridiculous dress on.” 
More tears streamed down your face as you heard nothing but distaste and irritation in his voice. This was the boy you had a hopeless crush on? This is what he thought of you? 
You didn’t need to hear more. This was more than enough to completely break you so you turned around and quietly walked back down the same hallway. You wiped your tears, and put a fake smile on as you went back to your party. This time with a plan in your head. 
You endured the party with a heavy heart. Faked some more smiles until it ended. You didn’t see Bucky again for the rest of the night, which was good. By the early hours of the morning, everyone had left. You wandered around that empty ballroom like a ghost that night. For hours. Thinking, plotting. It was clear Bucky didn’t want this. And now neither did you. But your families had announced it. So what exactly could you do? 
By the time the sun rose, you had already written a note to your father and left it on his desk. By the time the sky brightened, your bags were packed and you were already driving out of the mansion grounds. And you knew that by the time your father would go into his office and find that note, you would already be on a plane, on your way out of here. 
You didn’t give too many details in the note. You simply said that you were leaving, not knowing when or if you’d be back. 
Truth was, you had no solid plans. All you knew was that you needed to get away from home. 
You didn’t know that when you’d return home – almost a decade later, so much would have changed. 
Your father was angry. Livid actually, that you’d been away for years without contact. You briefly explained why you needed to leave. And how you’d been able to make a name for yourself elsewhere. But after he was done berating you for what you did when you were twenty and stupid, he filled you in on all that you’d missed in the past decade almost. 
Some important points were: your family and Bucky were no longer allies, but were now each others’ worst rivals but no one knew that. The city was now secretly divided – your family ruled and controlled one side, and Bucky ruled the other. 
“It’s just him now?” You had asked, and your father nodded. 
“A lot happened after you left, actually–”
A loud noise cut him off. Rounds of bullets shot at the windows of the house, from all sides it seemed. And it was pure chaos. You could hear your guards fighting back, but even by just hearing the commotion you could tell you were severely outnumbered. 
But whoever it was, they weren’t shooting at anyone, just at windows – making enough noise to get your attention and to get you to come outside. 
You marched out of the room despite your father ordering you not to. And you were halfway down the grand stairs when he walked in and spotted you immediately with a smug look on his face. 
Bucky. Walked in like he owned the place. He stopped in the middle of the foyer, which was now ruined. Bits and pieces of concrete and glass all over the marble floor. Flower pots destroyed, the gilded mirror in pieces as well. He made a mess of the home you grew up in and you almost shot him right in the heart there and then. 
Here was the man who once broke your heart after making you think for years that maybe you had a chance. 
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You hissed. You could hear your father coming to a stop on the landing several steps behind you. He was unprepared. You were armed with only one handgun tucked into your pocket. Your guards were outnumbered. This was a shitshow. 
The guards – his and yours – stopped firing and now just stood all over the place on high alert. And you knew, deep down in your gut you just knew something which you weren’t ready for was about to happen. 
“I see you’re finally home, princess.” Bucky just gave you a cold smile and shoved his hands in his pockets. The action drew your attention to one specific thing. The metal arm. You frowned at it in confusion, but didn’t react. 
But that word… ‘princess’ brought back memories which chased you out of this place. And it only fueled your anger. 
“What the fuck do you want?” 
He lifted his nose slightly in the air, like the arrogant prick he had always been. “I’m here to collect what I was promised.” His voice was strong and confident. “A bride. Now you have a choice, princess. Either we do this in peace and no one gets hurt, or…” 
He didn’t even have to finish his sentence because on cue, one of his guards sneakily appeared on the landing behind you, holding a gun to your father’s head. You froze for a moment. The look on your father’s face made everything so serious all of a sudden. You had to be extra careful here. 
“You wouldn’t.” 
He scoffed, “Wouldn’t I?” 
You argued, “It’s been almost a decade.” 
“I don’t care. We were supposed to marry each other–,” 
You cut him off, “Yes, and you didn’t want that, did you? I heard you on the phone that night.” You finally confessed. “By the pool. I remember every single word that came out of your fucking mouth. So don’t come here acting like you’re entitled to–,” 
“You think you know everything, don’t you?” He smirked, shaking his head. “Is that why you ran away? And didn’t come home for a decade? Because you spied on me that night and didn’t like what you heard?” 
That did it. One moment you were standing on the stairs, afraid that your father might get hurt and the next you had your gun out and shot right at his metal arm, knowing it wouldn’t hurt him but it would make him lower his guard for just a second. 
And that one second was enough to jump him and punch him right in the jaw. Fuck, it hurt but it also felt so damn good. All those years you’d been away, you were also training in your free time. And you knew you were good at combat. 
But so was he. A few punches in and he managed to throw you down on the floor and pin you to the ground with that same metal hand around your throat, keeping you in place. You didn’t know why his guards just stood and did nothing, as though they had been ordered not to shoot at anyone here. 
But you weren’t under any such orders, so you managed to land another punch to his jaw before he yelled, “Enough!” Right in your face. “Stop this shit, or I swear to–,” 
You cut him off by punching him again, trying to get free the moment you felt his metal hand get loose around your throat. He growled in annoyance and tightened his grip. 
“You’re like a wild fucking animal. Stop!” 
You gritted your teeth at the insult and scratched his face exactly like how a wild animal would. You tried everything, tried to punch him again, tried to scratch down his neck and arms which only tore his shirt instead of his skin. You went for yet another punch and only then did you feel another pair of arms – one of his guards – pulling your hands away from his face. You thrashed and tried your hardest to break free but you couldn’t and ended up biting your own lip rather badly in the process. 
“I fucking hate you, Bucky Barnes!” You hissed, defeated, and now with a bleeding, throbbing cut on your lip which matched his. 
Bucky kept his hand around your neck as he leaned in menacingly and whispered, “Hate me all you want, princess. But you will marry me. Right here. Right now.” 
And that’s how you found yourself kissing your husband, in the foyer of your father’s ruined mansion. With your helpless father, and the many guards as witnesses. 
You pulled away from the kiss, breathless and angrier than earlier. Jaws clenched, you were ready to tackle him to the ground again, maybe actually shoot him with your gun this time, but he spoke before you could say anything. 
“Let’s go.” He spoke, and like the loyal followers that they were, all of his guards silently walked out of your house. And Bucky grabbed your hand firmly in his and began pulling you out of the house as well. 
You resisted again. “Wait! You brute!” You pulled your hand away from his and ran back up the stairs to your father. “I ruined everything, I’m sorry.” 
He just hugged you and told you to be careful and be smart. And that he forgives you. You promised you’d come to see him soon. And then you left, refusing to take Bucky’s hand again as you walked out of your father’s house. 
You needed to think. You couldn’t fight him right now. Besides, it’s not like you married him legally. All Bucky wanted was to make a scene and you let him. For now. You’d need some time to come up with a plan and decide what needed to be done. But for now… 
“If you’re thinking about running away and disappearing for a decade again, you better stop. You’re not getting away this time. You hear me?” Bucky spoke, sitting next to you in the backseat of his car as the driver drove to his side of the city, to his house surely. That authoritative tone of his made you want to scratch his face again. 
“You seem to be under the impression that you’re in control here, Barnes. Just know, I could still shoot you right now if I wanted to.” You didn’t look at him, you looked out the window. At the city that had changed in your absence. 
“Ouch.” He faked his surprise. Then proceeded to put his arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest, leaning down he whispered into your ear, “That’s not a nice way of treating your new husband, now is it?” 
You gave him a fake smile, ignoring the way your brain thought he smelled delicious, and reached into your pocket to pull out your handgun. Placing the cold barrel right under his chin you said, “Try me, husband.” 
The driver cleared his throat in nervousness and you didn’t want to traumatise the man so you pulled your gun away but left it in Bucky’s line of sight. He pulled away then, pulling his hand away from your shoulders but placed his metal hand on your thigh. A possessive move. 
Yet that didn’t bother as much. But the metal hand? Where did that come from? What happened while you were gone? 
He answered your questions voluntarily. “Got caught in a crossfire. I got shot too many times, the arm was beyond saving. So I had the metal arm made. It’s a very intricate technology, but it works just fine.” He said, flexing the hand on your skin. 
You didn’t miss the hidden sexual connotation in that last part of his sentence. And you certainly couldn’t ignore the way your body responded to the cold, metal touch. It looked… badass. Not that you would ever tell him. 
You tried to look out the window again, but his touch on your thigh was more distracting than you wanted it to be. It was all you could focus on. Just to stop thinking about it you said, “I don’t have any of my things.” 
“It’s all been taken care of. Don’t worry.” He answered, looking down at his phone. Acting like he didn’t know his hand on your thigh was messing you up. 
Still you frowned at his answer, “What do you mean it’s been taken care of?” Then you paused and thought about it for a moment, “Did you–” You sighed, “You knew I was coming, didn’t you? Did you have people spying on me?” 
He shrugged, “You thought I would let my betrothed be out there in the world without keeping an eye on her?” He scoffed, looking up from his phone for a brief moment, “Of course I did. I know everything about you. I even know all about that secret, women-only army you created.” He added, “I was half expecting them to pop out of nowhere earlier at your father’s house.” 
You were in disbelief. This whole time you thought you’d hid well. But no. 
“Where are they anyway? Your girls?” He asked, and for once it didn’t sound like a taunt. It sounded like he was genuinely curious. 
“Probably out hunting and beheading men who think they can get away with forcing women into marrying them by threatening to kill their fathers.” You gave him another one of your fake smiles, “I’ve trained them well.” 
Bucky smiled back. “Well good. When they get here to try and free you, we could unite our forces. We’ll be untouchable then, you and I. I have the money and you have an army.” He winked. “Ultimate power couple.” 
“You won’t get away with this, Barnes.” 
He looked out of the window and said, “I just came to collect what was promised to be mine that night.” 
You argued, bitterly, “Oh we both know what happened that night.” 
“I do.” He said, “But do you? Do you really?” 
You remained quiet for a moment. This was the second time he questioned your knowledge of what truly happened that night. As if you hadn’t heard him loud and clear on that phone call. 
“You–,” 
He cut you off and looked out the window as he said, “We’re home.” 
It had been a long day. And you were running out of energy so instead of arguing some more, you just followed him out of the car and remained stunned for a moment as you looked at his house. It wasn’t his family home. This one seemed new. 
It was just as large as your father’s mansion, just a lot more contemporary compared to the more Georgian architecture-inspired one you grew up in. 
Bucky’s house sat on a sprawling green and pristine property. It was a perfect blend of sleek architecture and a glass house, which allowed the right amount of privacy but also allowed glimpses of the warm, farmhouse inspired interior. Even from outside you could tell it was homey and bright inside. 
Before you could get a word out, you felt his hands on you again. You tensed up and almost hit him again in defence but before you could, Bucky was carrying you bridal style – literally – and marching towards the large doors of his ridiculously pretty home. 
“What the fuck are you doing?” You questioned, squirming just a little in the intimate embrace. 
“Traditions,” He said, looking down at you, “Can’t have you trip at the doorstep and risk bringing bad luck into our marriage.” 
You frowned at him, reluctantly wrapping your arms around his neck for support. “You say ‘our marriage’ like it’s gonna be a real thing. It won’t, Barnes. I’ll be out of here before you–,” 
He used you to push open the door and the warm interior of the home shut you up. For some reason you never imagined someone like Bucky would live in a house that actually looked like a home. You pictured him living in some villain’s lair. 
But this was… beautiful. 
You squirmed into his arms until he finally set you down carefully. You stood there for a minute, in the foyer, just looking around. Then you couldn’t help but say, “It would be a real pain if someone just started shooting at the windows of your house like a madman, wouldn’t it?” You waved your gun in front of his face. 
“I’ll send people over tomorrow morning to fix your father’s house.” 
“You don’t even sound apologetic.” You scoffed. 
“I’m not.” 
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Was it necessary? To shoot at my house like that? You couldn’t just, I don’t know, ring the doorbell to get me to come outside? You absolutely had to be a child?” 
He smirked then said, “First of all, that isn’t your house anymore. This is where you live now, and you will call this your home. Second of all, why blame me when you acted just as childish when you decided to run away all those years ago? Third of all, I did it because, well, I do like some drama.” 
You couldn’t not believe him. “You amaze me with your stupidity, Barnes.” 
“You amaze me with your bratty attitude, Mrs. Barnes.” 
You stepped closer to him, slow and in a threatening manner. “Don’t call me that.” 
“Don’t call me that.” 
You sighed, “You know you’re still that little boy who used to bully everyone when we played as kids.” 
He clarified, “No, I bullied you because you were annoying. Everyone else was fine.” 
“I hate you.” You said with enough hostility you hoped it would shut him up. 
It didn’t. “Well, see.” He took your hand in his and said slowly as if talking you down, “That’s something we’ll work on together as a couple.” 
You pulled your hand away and were so tempted to just– 
“Come,” he said, “I’ll show you where our room is.” You began protesting immediately but he cut you off by saying, “Stop being fucking difficult. We’re married now, act like it.” 
“I want a separate room!” 
“No.” 
“I’m not sleeping with you!” 
“Then don’t. But you will sleep in my bed. Like my wife should.” 
“You’re a fucking animal!” You tried tugging your hand free from his grasp. 
Bucky had had enough. So he pinned you to the nearest surface, which happened to be the closed door of his bedroom. He grabbed both your wrists in his metal hand and pinned them above your head. His face was just inches away from yours, and he stared deep into your eyes. 
Your mind immediately went to that harsh kiss you’d shared earlier. And you hated how your body squirmed just as the thought of it. You refused to think about it any more, but his mouth was just so, so close. The cut on his lip, the slight stubble on his cheek and around his mouth, the texture of his skin, you were picking up on details you’d missed. 
Bucky spoke in a calm, deep voice which sent shivers down your spine. “Let’s be adults here, okay? You stop acting like a brat, and I’ll stop treating you like one.” He said, pressing his chest into yours. “It’s been a long day, and I know you’re running out of energy as well so stop resisting me. If I was an animal, I would’ve dragged you to bed right now and would’ve made you mine in every sense of the word.” He whispered, his voice cold and dangerous. “But I’m not. So you will walk into this room, and head straight for a warm shower and after you’re done we’re gonna clean these wounds. Am I clear?” 
You nodded quickly, like an idiot entranced by his gorgeous voice. 
“Use your words, princess. Am I clear?” 
“Yes.” 
“Good. Let’s go.” 
— 
You leaned against the counter, wrapped in a fluffy robe and another towel wrapped around your wet hair, and Bucky was cleaning the cut on your lip. 
His wounds were all cleaned. It looked like he had used a different shower while you were in here. His long hair was damp and tied into a small bun, with strands of his dark hair falling on either side of his face. He had changed into a tight black t-shirt and PJ trousers. It was frustrating to look at him. Because he looked so damn good. 
Last time you’d seen him was when he was a twenty year old boy. He’d changed since. He seemed taller somehow. Or maybe it was just the muscles making him look bigger. 
You couldn’t look away from the metal arm. And the intricate details on it. 
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” He asked, throwing the used cotton balls and napkins in the trash can. 
You didn’t miss the way he was being gentle all of a sudden. Calm voice, calm movement. Very different from the man who’d forced you to marry him just hours ago. 
“No.” You answered, turning around to look in the mirror. The bruise on your neck was very much visible now. You didn’t notice Bucky approaching you again, you didn’t notice how close he got, not until he reached out and touched your neck with his warm fingers. 
And for the first time, he sounded genuine when he said, “I’m sorry. About that.” 
You met his eyes through the mirror and remained quiet for a moment. For a brief moment you thought back to that night. What if you hadn’t heard him on the phone? What if you had married him back then? Would this be a normal, daily thing? Sharing a bathroom, a bed? 
“I punched you. Multiple times. This makes us equal.” 
Bucky scoffed, then nodded. Then said, “Come to bed when you’re done.” And left you alone in the bathroom. 
Shit. You stared at yourself in the mirror. What a day. All you wanted was to pay your father a visit and maybe spend some days at home and then fly back to where you came from. Having your father’s house be attacked, getting married, and having to share a bedroom with the man who once broke your heart… yeah, all that wasn’t in the plan. 
You changed into some comfy PJs Bucky had brought you earlier and walked out into the bedroom. You found Bucky on his phone again, standing by the foot of the bed. 
“Which side do you sleep on?” He asked, not looking up from his phone. 
“Uh, right.” You answered, because for some reason now he felt the need to ask for your opinion. 
Bucky didn’t say a word as he moved to the left side of the bed and peeled back the covers before getting in. Like this was just another day. Like this was normal. You awkwardly walked to your side of the bed and just stood there for a moment. 
“Just get in bed. I won’t touch you.” 
He didn’t even look at you as he spoke and, well, the lack of attention from him bothered you. Oh what the hell. You pulled the covers and got under them. You curled onto your side, with your back facing him. 
Soon, you heard him click something and all the lights turned off. You sensed movement behind you but that was it. He didn’t touch you. In fact, there was so much distance between you two that your back felt cold. And now that annoyed you as well. 
You couldn’t sleep. 
An hour went by, you still couldn’t sleep. 
Another hour went by, and now you’d begun tossing and turning so much that you heard Bucky groaning. 
“Will you stop that?” 
“I can’t sleep.” You mumbled.
“Don’t make it my problem. Stop moving.” 
“Wow. Some husband you are.” 
Silence. Then you felt your body sliding across the bed as Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his warm chest. 
“What the–,” 
“Shh.” He cut you off, his warm breath tickling your cheek as he spooned you from behind. “It’s cold. We could both use the warmth. Now go to sleep.” 
You scoffed, but didn’t move. “Your fancy house doesn’t have a thermostat? Fix the temperature.” 
“I like this better.” 
“I better not find your hands wandering.” 
You moved around for a bit, finding a comfortable spot. Then you moved some more and Bucky tightened his arm around you and whispered into your ear, “Stop wiggling against my cock. I understand it’s our wedding night and all but I’m too tired to do anything.” 
Your face burned in embarrassment. You tried to put some distance between your bodies, even though you liked his body heat, but thankfully Bucky pulled you right back. 
“Did I say you can move?” He chided. 
“What now, I need your permission to get comfortable in bed?” 
“Brat.” 
“Asshole.” 
— 
You didn’t know when you fell asleep at night. But the heat from Bucky’s chest definitely helped. It must’ve been that. And in the middle of the night, you must’ve searched for more heat. That was probably the only reason why you woke up and found yourself sprawled all over him, face into the crook of his neck and both your hands under his shirt, legs tangled with his. 
“You call me an animal. But look at you. Touching me while I was sleeping.” He mumbled. “Shameless.” 
You pulled away so fast, but then regretted it. Because now you missed his warmth. You shivered even under the covers. “Would it kill you to keep your damn house a little warmer?” 
He just yawned and got out of bed. “Get ready.” He said, “We might have a guest coming over. And you have to be a good little wife and play host.” 
“Fuck you.” 
“Oh you will.” He teased, “Soon.” Then he winked and walked out of the room. 
Well, he at least was giving you some privacy and let you have this bathroom all to yourself. Screw his and his mind games. First he barges into your house, forces you to marry him, then cuddles you to sleep. 
You caught yourself frowning multiple times while you showered, did some skin care, and found the closet on the other side of the room. You weren’t even surprised when you found a whole section filled with all you could need. All the shoes seemed like they would fit you, all the outfits as well. 
Nothing fazed you anymore. Not even the fact that your new husband might be a bit of a stalker. How else would he know your underwear size!? And there were drawers full of them. 
You tried not to worry too much as you got dressed. You were gonna get out of here soon anyway. 
Once dressed and ready for the day, you got downstairs and immediately heard Bucky’s voice, along with another voice. They were laughing over something. You found out where they were and approached the high-ceilinged, charming, farmhouse-inspired kitchen which blended with a spacious, cosy dining area. 
The other man had his back to you, but you knew that voice. Even though you hadn’t heard it in years. 
“Sam?” You couldn’t help but call out, lingering by the large doorway. Bucky remained leaning against the kitchen counter with a coffee mug in his hand, while Sam got up from where he sat at the breakfast counter. 
He turned around and his familiar, warm brown eyes met yours. He gave you a comforting smile. You, Sam, and Bucky all grew up together, along with some other kids from families similar to yours. And Sam had always been a sweetheart. You’d missed him. 
So you didn’t even hesitate to walk right into his arms once he opened them, wanting a hug. You squeezed him tight and said, “I thought I’d never see you again, Sammy!” 
Sam hugged you back just as tight, “I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in almost a decade.” He pulled away to look down at you before giving you a loud kiss on the cheek. Safe to say, he was just as handsome as he was when you left this place. “How have you been?” 
You looked over Sam’s broad shoulder and found a broody Bucky. “I’ve been better.” 
Sam got really serious, and was about to say something but Bucky’s voice rumbled from behind. “That’s enough hugging and smooching. Sam, stop touching my wife.” 
“Ooh, your wife.” Sam teased, before letting go of you and letting you walk out of his arms. “First of all, why didn’t you tell me you two were planning to get married this whole time?” He asked Bucky in an accusatory tone. “My childhood friends got married and I wasn’t even invited.” 
Sam sat back down at the breakfast counter, so he didn’t see the questioning stare you sent Bucky. So Sam wasn’t aware of the circumstances under which you got married? Of course he didn’t. Nobody knew, and Bucky wasn’t about to tell anyone 
“It all happened so quickly, Sam.” You placed a gentle hand on his shoulder as you said, “Bucky was… impatient. Even my father didn’t have time to prepare much. It all just, you know, happened.” You spoke as you helped yourself to some breakfast, taking a seat at the table where you could see both men well. 
You didn’t miss the way Bucky’s jaws kept clenching and unclenching as you tiptoed the line between telling the truth and lying to Sam. 
“Yeah,” Sam agreed, “I know how impatient he can be.” He glared at Bucky, who shook his head in disbelief. 
“I take it you two work together now?” You only asked because you remember how the parents would always talk about how wonderful it would be if these two boys worked together. Apparently they made a great team back then. 
“We do.” Bucky answered, placing his mug down before turning around and began chopping some things. 
“You see,” Sam began explaining in a playful tone. “After everything happened, Bucky was all along. Poor little princeling with no guidance and a kingdom to run.” You saw Bucky shaking his head at Sam’s words. Sam continued, “So I knew I had to step in and become his mentor. He wouldn’t have survived without me.” 
You made a mental note to ask about what ‘everything’ he was referring to, but couldn’t help but smile at the camaraderie between them, despite it all. Sam had always been a good company. He was the sun rays filtering through dark clouds, and Bucky was the dark, gloomy day who needed the sun’s brightness. 
“Wouldn’t have survived.” Bucky muttered, mocking his friend. “You helped me train sometimes. You introduced me to people. That’s about it.” He clarified, bringing over a bowl of chopped fruit over to you and pushed it towards you without a word said. 
You liked fruits for breakfast. And you assumed he remembered. But he did it all too casually. As if he did it every day. You didn’t want to cause a scene so you accepted the bowl quietly. 
“That’s about it?” Sam shook his head, then turned to you. “I took care of him like a parent–,”
“No you didn’t. You–” 
“–and this is how he treats me. I should’ve let you bleed out from that bullet wound that one time. Maybe you wouldn’t be here disrespecting me then.” 
You chuckled, clearly on Sam’s team. Bucky didn’t like that. “What about my wife then? Who would be taking care of her?” 
“I would.” Sam answered without missing a beat. “We all know if not you then I was gonna marry her.” He turned to you, knowing damn well he was gonna get a reaction out of Bucky any time now. Sam lived to mess with Bucky after all. He always did, ever since you were all kids. “Wouldn’t you have married me if Bucky had died?” He asked you with that mischievous smile on his face. 
“I–,” 
“You answer that and you’ll never see Sam again.” Bucky said, narrowing his eyes at you, before you couldn’t get a word out of your mouth. 
Sam smirked triumphantly. 
You rolled your eyes at Bucky and looked right at Sam and said, “I would’ve married you in a heartbeat, Sammy.” 
Sam went to grab your hand, surely to bring it up to his lips for a kiss, but Bucky threw a napkin right at him before he could. 
“You touch my wife again and I swear–,” 
“Must you always threaten people?” You asked, glaring at Bucky. 
He glared back. And opened his mouth to say something but Sam cut him off. “Hey, hey, kids. No fighting.” He quickly changed the topic, “Now, since you have gotten married and no one was there, how about a party? To announce it to everyone? We could invite the whole city.” 
Party. Yeah right. The last time you attended an extravagant party you had your heart broken. Not just broken, but stepped onto and crushed to a pulp. 
You went to say no, “Maybe we shouldn’t–,” 
But Bucky declared, “Absolutely we should. After all, we waited almost a decade to marry each other.” He looked right at you as he said that. “It’s time everyone knows you’re finally mine.” 
“Perfect!” Sam began planning immediately. He had always been the life of all parties, and he loved them. 
While you occasionally answered his questions, you didn’t stop glaring at your husband while you finished your breakfast. There was something he was hiding. You were certain of it. But what? 
— 
A couple days later, it was finally the night of the party. 
The past few days had been more or less similar. You’d always wake up sprawled all over Bucky’s chest, and he always made a teasing comment about it. You’d have breakfast in silence, after which he’d disappear and then he’d come home in the evenings. You never talked while having dinner. 
The one time you did talk, it didn’t end well. 
You brought it up at dinner. “I tried to go out today. Your people followed me into the city.” 
“Our people.” He corrected. Bucky didn’t find anything wrong with that apparently because he simply said, “And they’re your security detail. They’ve been ordered to follow you.” 
“So I don’t escape?” 
“So you’re always safe.” 
“Oh come on. You can’t keep me here forever.” 
He shrugged, “You’re not being kept. This is your home, we’re married. This is where you live now.” 
You stood up from the table.You didn’t care that the housekeepers you’d been recently introduced to could hear. “And who are you to make that decision for me?” You asked, in a surprisingly calm tone. 
He replied in a similar tone. “Your husband.” 
You sighed, trying your hardest to keep it all contained. “I have a life, you know? A totally separate life I’ve been living since I left this place. I have to get back to it at some point. You proved your point. Now let me go.” 
He ignored all of that. “I’m working on transferring all your businesses and staff here.” He announced. “I’m buying a brand new building in the city, you can have it and set it up however you want. The only thing I can’t find is your secret army of highly trained soldiers.” 
“You’ll never find my girls.” 
“Why’s that?” 
“They’re trained to outrun men like you. All men, in fact.” You added, “I made sure of that. I made sure they’d never be used and moved around like pieces on a chessboard then discarded by people like you.” 
“Sounds like you speak from experience.” 
“Fuck you, Barnes.” You spat before walking away. 
You made sure to sleep on the very edge of the gigantic bed that night, as far away from him as possible. But in the morning, you still woke up snuggled into his chest, on his side of the bed, like you’d been trying to burrow under his skin seeking warmth at night. 
You didn’t speak after that. You made sure to ignore him. Each time you left the house, to go see your father or to just roam around the city you’d missed so much, you’d look in the rear view mirror and find big, bulky SUVs following you around. 
And here you were now, after days of silent treatment, you stood in front of the large mirror in the closet of your bedroom and watched your reflection. Of course the bastard had chosen an extravagant evening gown for you to wear which looked eerily similar to the one you wore that night for your birthday almost ten years ago. 
Except this one was much more elegant. And looked a lot like a wedding dress. With its simple square neckline, thin straps, fitted bodice and a majestic skirt. All white and sparkly. The last time you felt like a princess, the night ended terribly. So this time you were afraid to even let yourself appreciate the beautiful woman in the mirror who stared back at you. 
You kept fidgeting, with the skirt of the dress, watching it swish around. You didn’t notice Bucky approaching you from behind. Not until he stood right behind you, his chest brushing against your slight exposed back. 
He looked… unreal in his all black suit. Shiny black tie and a small shiny pin. His hair was perfect as always, and his all black outfit really made his eyes seem bluer than ever. Or maybe it was the lights in this closet that did it. But it made you notice the lines by his eyes, which gave away just how much time had gone by. 
He was still that bad boy with tattoos whom you had a crush on, who made your race whenever he looked at you. Except now he was older, meaner. And your husband. Whom you hated. 
Did you? 
You tensed up when he placed a hand on your waist, right where the bodice and skirt were sewn together. You met his eyes through the mirror, but said nothing. You had no mean words to throw at him this time and neither did he. 
“You look beautiful.” He said, leaning in just a little to rest his cheek against your temple. 
You froze at the soft touch which drove you insane. You must be ovulating, you thought, because there was no way that mere touch was making your heart race like this for no other reason. You began breathing faster, that’s how fast your heart was racing. 
You almost leaned into his touch, ready to forget it all just for one moment of warmth. Of peace and quiet. Just one moment to appreciate that you looked beautiful and you had your husband’s attention and all was well. To appreciate that you two look great together. To stop fighting this weird alchemy between you two which kept drawing you to one another no matter what. But then you remembered. 
“Do I?” You asked, keeping your voice steady. “You sure I don’t look like a kid’s toy with this ridiculous dress on?” 
He remembered too, judging by the look on his face. He looked surprised, then briefly apologetic before settling on a familiar, broody frown. “What did I say about being a brat?” 
“I’ll stop being a brat when you stop being an asshole.” You scoffed. “You always were so… careless. With people. With everything. Always thinking you were above everyone else, ever since we were just kids.” You added, “I hate you.” 
He smirked, then grabbed your elbow and turned you around so he could look at you, or glare at you with his ocean blue eyes. “You didn’t hate me back then, did you?” He pushed you against the closest surface, which happened to be a wooden dresser. “You craved my attention back then. You used to find excuses to hold my hand when we were little. When we got older you used to hate it when I looked at other girls at school. Now look at you. You’re in my house, you sleep in my bed.” He leaned in, whispering in your ear, “You’re my wife. Then why do you keep resisting me, hmm?” 
“I was stupid back then. Wasted so much time trying to get your attention, and all I ever was to you was a whiny, bratty–,” You cut yourself off with a surprised gasp as you watched Bucky lower to his knees in front of you, his hands lifting the skirt of your dress. He was rough with it, crumpling it in his strong fists. “What are you doing?” You asked, shocked and surprised but not making a move to get away. “You– you’re ruining my dress.” 
He looked up at you, bunching some of the fabric near your waist and holding the front part of your dress up, pinning the bunched up skirt at your abdomen. As if he wanted to– 
Your entire face burned when you realised just how close and intimate this was. 
“I bought this dress. I’ll ruin it if I want to.” He spoke in that arrogant tone you weren’t sure you entirely hated at this moment. “You’re lucky I’m not tearing it off of you.” 
“And you’re lucky I’m not–,” 
He cut you off by leaning in and kissing your inner thigh. Just like that. As if you weren’t on the verge of arguing just now. You were still processing that soft kiss he left on your thigh, and he was already moving to spread your legs apart as he slowly looked up, waiting to see if you’d tell him to stop or push him away. 
You didn’t. 
His eyes remained focused on your face as his hand reached out and he ran his metal knuckles between your legs, along your wet folds through your thin underwear, making you shudder at his mere touch. You flinched at the cold, but didn’t pull away. 
“You’re dripping.” He commented, slowly sliding down your underwear. “Does arguing with me turn you on, baby? Is that why you do it all the time?” He smirked, finally throwing your underwear to the side. 
You glared at him, opening your mouth to argue yet again but you ended up just letting out a soft moan as you felt his metal fingertips gently trail up and down your legs. He chuckled at how sensitive and responsive you were. Bucky placed a kiss on your inner thigh again and you gasped.
“Looks like you haven’t been taken care of in a while.” He said, moving his fingers over your clit, circling it slowly. “Have you?” He sounded like he was accusing you.
“No.” You hissed, angry at how much you didn’t mind his touch. “You barged in and married me before I could go out and find someone who might–,” 
“I tolerate you talking to and about Sam because he’s our friend.” He cut you off. “But if I hear you talking about any other man, I promise I will be committing unnecessary crimes and it’ll all be on you.” He paused, glaring at you. “You hear me?” 
You nodded. Fuck he looked good from up here. 
He held your stare as he leaned in and placed his mouth to your core, giving your clit a firm such before his warm tongue slipped past your folds and teased your dripping hole. One hand holding part of your dress up while the metal one worked in tandem with his tongue, circling your throbbing clit and parting your wet folds with ease. 
“Should’ve known you’d taste like fucking heaven,” He whispered, almost to himself. 
You couldn’t hold the moans and whimpers in, feeling his stubble rubbing against your soft skin, craving more of it. You couldn’t help but slide hesitant fingers into his hair, pulling him closer. “Please, more…” You whined. 
That made him wild. And he ate you out relentlessly, taking his time and learning what worked for you and what didn’t, until your legs were shaking and your moans were louder. 
He slid his fingers, just a knuckle deep inside you and watched how much you loved that. “That feels good, doesn’t it, baby?” 
You only whimpered in response. 
When he was certain you were right on the edge, hips moving in a frantic way which made you grind against his fingers and tongue, only then did he pull away and let go of your dress before standing back up to face you with a condescending smirk. 
“You think it’s that easy?” He spoke, but you focused more on the wetness coating his lips rather than his words. 
You blinked a couple of times to break out of whatever spell he’d just put you under using that damned mouth and fingers of his. He’d… he’d dared bring you right to the edge. But hadn’t let you come. 
You were breathing heavily, feeling hot and tingly all over. 
He chuckled, enjoying the speechlessness which was rare when it came to you. “If you want more, then behave tonight. Be good and tell everyone how in love we are and all the nice things, and I promise I’ll take care of you later tonight. Okay?“
You knew what he was doing. He wanted you to tell as many people as possible because the more people knew, the harder it would be for you to sneak out of this place again. 
He didn’t even wait for a response. He just licked his lips clean, shamelessly holding your stare while he did. Then turned to the mirror and fixed his suit before bending down to pick up your discarded underwear. You looked away, embarrassed but waiting for him to hand it to you. 
Except he didn’t. He pocketed it like it was nothing and said, “Come on, our guests are waiting.” Then he walked out of the room like nothing happened. Like he hadn’t made you almost lose your mind just minutes ago. Like he didn’t have his tongue and fingers inside you. Like he hadn’t gotten so close to making you come. 
Like your heart wasn’t still racing even after he’d left the room. 
Eventually, you calmed down. Fixed your makeup, hair and dress again before heading towards the temporary, clear outdoor party tent Sam had people install in Bucky’s huge backyard. The closer you got, the more it looked straight out of a fairytale. Given the clear walls, you could see the golden lights and decor inside. 
The chandeliers, the floral arrangements, the tables and the dance floor where people danced with their partners. 
Speaking of partners, there by the entrance stood a tall, dark figure. Your husband. 
“Took you a while.” He muttered once you got close enough to him. 
You stopped by his side and sighed. Then answered in a monotone voice, trying to hide how bothered you were. “Well, some conceited asshole left me to deal with a mess he made so there’s that.” 
Bucky snickered. “Don’t act so indifferent. You were dripping all over my tongue and hand just minutes ago.” 
“Keep your voice down.” You hissed. 
“Nothing to be ashamed of. It’s not taboo for a husband to take care of his wife, you know?” He sounded just as annoying as you expected he would. 
You looked down and noticed he had his elbow extended out for you to take. You took it and spoke once you two began walking into the venue. “If you think you are getting anywhere near me to take care of me again, husband, you are dead fucking wrong.” You put a fake smile on as people began noticing your arrival and flocked to you. 
Bucky whispered one last thing into your ear before he left you in the care of the excited, curious, and loud group of ladies coming your way, “Oh you’ll beg me to touch you soon enough, wife.” 
Then he was gone again. Leaving you right on that edge again. 
Damn him! 
You had to give it to Sam, he knew how to organise a party. The decor, the food, the music, the performances, all of it was perfect. 
He even re-introduced to all the people you might have forgotten while you were gone. And naturally everyone had questions. You repeated the same answers to them all. The same lies. 
Where were you this whole time? You wanted to do your own thing, and make your own name so you decided to get away from home. 
Why did you leave right after it was announced that you were to marry Bucky Barnes? Oh your father never said when you were to marry him. He just said you would. Besides, both you and Bucky were too young to marry back then. 
Did Bucky know you were going to be gone? Of course he did! You two were childhood sweethearts after all. Yes, you did keep in touch this whole time and only fell more and more in love. Yes, distance does make the heart grow fonder and all. 
Why did the wedding happen so suddenly and in secret? After almost a decade of being far apart from each other, you two could no longer wait anymore. So you eloped the day you came back. 
There are rumours that your father and Bucky have some kind of tension going on between them, is any of it true? That was the one question you didn’t feel too confident about. Because your father never ended up telling you why that was. How did the rivalry start? You lied and said, it’s just because you eloped. Your father wanted to be involved but you were too in love to think straight. So now your father was giving your poor husband a hard time for stealing his little girl. 
As you paraded around and met everyone, you could feel Bucky’s eyes on you at all times. You didn’t have to look to know. You could feel the burning sensation along your back and you just knew he was watching you. 
And he watched all night. Up until the moment people began leaving and you had no choice but to find him again, not knowing what else to do. 
“You lie very well.” He commented, holding his elbow out for you to take again. 
You did. And also leaned into him a little because you had been standing for too many hours. You decided to ignore the hostility for just a minute. “Yes, I’m a natural.” 
“Everyone bought your bullshit about how we are childhood sweethearts turned lovers.” He whispered, turning his head to face you. 
“Well, you did say to make it believable.” 
“Oh it is.” He boasted, “Especially since you’ve been looking at me like that the whole night.” 
You rolled your eyes, “How?” 
“With longing, and desire. You’re all hot and bothered. You crave my tongue back on that throbbing little clit, don’t you?” 
“You’re delusional, Barnes.” 
“And you’re dripping wet for me, Mrs. Barnes.” 
— 
The party ended, and after Sam left you and Bucky made your way back inside the house. Sam, being the angel that he was, had made sure a clean up crew would be here early the next morning so you had nothing to worry about. 
Not that it should bother you whether or not Bucky’s house is tidy. 
You had a faint smile on your face as you went about your nighttime routine. Shower, skin care, a quick snack in the kitchen. And while you were downstairs, searching the pantry for something sweet, you saw Bucky near the thermostat. 
The pantry hid you well, so Bucky didn’t see you. But you watched him mess with the temperature. You squinted and realised he was lowering it. The damned bastard was making it colder! No wonder you were freezing each night and woke up each morning snuggled up to him, basking in his warmth. 
This asshole. 
You remained in hiding until Bucky left, and this time as you made your way upstairs you vowed you wouldn’t reach for his warmth. No matter how cold it got. And he wouldn’t get to use you as a personal heated blanket either. Let him freeze. 
You barely lasted thirty minutes under the covers. 
And he was quiet and didn’t move so you thought he was asleep already as you carefully scooted a little bit closer, trying to feel where he was in the dark. If only this bed wasn’t so damn big. You patted around, trying not to move to much as you– 
“I can hear you, you know? If you want to cuddle, just say it.” 
You stopped moving immediately. “Shut up.” You muttered, frowning at him even though he couldn’t see it. You could see his faint silhouette in the dark, so you knew when he turned on his side to face you. 
“What is it, wife? You need some warmth on this cold, cold night?” He asked in that mocking tone of his. 
“No.” You answered, lying. Because yes you did. 
He muttered ‘stubborn brat’ under his breath and then grabbed you and pulled you close until your back was completely pressed against his chest. His warm, comfy chest. You bit back a sigh of relief once you felt his body heating wrapping you in a cocoon. 
“I saw you messing with the thermostat.” You admitted. 
“Oh?”
“Yes. You make it cold on purpose.” 
“Oh no.” He mocked. “ Why didn’t you fix it then?” He asked, and it hit you how childish this was. He leaned in just enough so that his lips brushed against your cheek when he spoke. “Could it be that you like cuddling with me?” 
“Shut up.” 
He scoffed, finally wrapping his arms around you, but you hissed upon feeling his metal arm on your body.  
“It’s cold.” 
“Warm it up for me then.” 
“What–” 
You stopped talking the moment Bucky grabbed one of your legs and hooked it on top of his, spreading your legs to make room for his hand as you both remained on your sides, with him spooning you from behind. 
His metal hand found itself sliding into your shorts, past your underwear and he cupped you with such confidence and authority that you couldn’t help leaning into and grinding into his touch. His other hand slid under your pillow and down so he could grab and give your breast a firm squeeze. 
Fuck. His hands felt like they were touching you everywhere. 
“I told you I’d take care of you if you behaved.” He whispered into your ear. “Time for a little reward, wife.” 
He slid two fingers inside you, you gasped at the feeling of him being knuckles deep inside you. You whined as he stretched you a little, moving his fingers around until your hips were moving on their own, trying to get him to move some more. 
He chuckled. “That feels good?” He murmured into your ear. 
His voice, his warmth, the softness of his embrace, the unhurried way his fingers were moving in and out of you, sliding over your clit and stroking your walls like he had all the time in the world. 
Your hands wrapped around his metal wrist, keeping his hand in place as you rode his fingers the way you wanted. Hips moving forward and causing his fingers to slide in and out, while you moaned and whimpered. 
His lips brushed against your cheek over and over again as he whispered against your skin, “See how nice it is when you behave? Hmm? You can have me whenever you want, baby. Just be good for me, and I’ll do anything for you.” 
The animosity between you was forgotten at this moment. Here, in this dark room the past didn’t matter for a few minutes. Nothing mattered, just that you wanted something and he was giving it to you. 
His thumb caressed your clit, teasing it a little more until you cried out, “Bucky, please…” 
He froze. You did too. Then he chuckled and said, “So all is takes is a little finger fucking and now you have manners and you call me by my name?” He sounded just as annoyingly playful as you knew he would. 
“Oh fuck you!” You spat, then immediately let out a loud moan as he sped up and really fucked you with his fingers until you were a whimpering mess. “Please, please, please…” 
“What did I say, huh?” He hissed. “Keep acting like a fucking brat and you’ll be treated like one.” He kept his fingers moving in and out of you. “I planned on really taking care of you tonight, but you know what? This is all you’re gonna get.” 
Your moans and whimpers got louder and louder until you began clenching around his fingers, coming undone with a loud cry of his name. Body shaking and your hips grinding down on his hand as you savoured the last moments of your orgasm before he pulled out and pulled away from you. 
You thought he’d go right back to sleep but then you felt him get out of bed. “Where are you–,” 
“I’ll fix the temperature.” He mumbled, sounding annoyed. Rightfully so. “Go to sleep.” 
And that was the last you heard or saw of him until the morning because you passed out right after. You didn’t even know if he returned to bed or not. Not that you cared much. 
Right? 
— 
Things changed after that night. 
A lot changed actually. Bucky had, miraculously, managed to uproot ten years of your life from elsewhere and planted it right here in the city. He took you to the building he’d been getting ready for you and it sure was something. You didn’t know what you expected but a brand new skyscraper was not what you had in mind. 
The day he handed over papers and keys and gave you a tour of the huge building was the first time you felt a shift in this… bond you shared with him. 
“Thank you.” You simply said as you both stepped into the shiny elevator so he could take you all the up to the top floor, to show you to your new office. 
Bucky slid his hands in his pockets and turned to face you. “You think being nice equals sexual favours from me, wife?” 
You could’ve told him to shut it. Or told him to go get fucked. But he was trying to be good to you, wasn’t he? Even after all he did, he wanted you next to him for some unknown reason and frankly you were tired of resisting. Your entire life was here now anyway. It wouldn’t hurt to… try. Would it? 
So instead you answered with, “Doesn’t it?” 
Bucky narrowed his eyes at you, searching for the catch. He didn’t find any so he said, “We’ll see about that.” 
And that night he followed you into the shower and kissed you hard under the falling water. “I see you behaved yourself today.” He whispered against your mouth. 
You pulled him closer by grabbing his neck and said, “Do I get a reward then?” 
He didn’t say anything, just kissed you hard again and walked the two of you backwards until your back collided with the cold clear glass of the shower cubicle. Then he pulled away, looked down into your eyes. His own filled with lust and hunger as he asked, “You’re gonna let me fuck you?” 
You nodded quickly before saying, “Yes. Please.” 
He didn’t waste a single moment. He grabbed one of your legs and hooked it to his hip, spreading you open. He kissed you senseless again while he pushed inside of you. You moaned into the kiss as he filled you up, his cock stretching you out, making you whine and whimper as he slow fucked you. 
“Fuck…” He breathily moaned against your open mouth while he moved against you. Pushing deeper, in and out of you until your moans and whimpers got louder and louder. The sound of the water falling from the shower drowned out most of it, so he fucked you until you moaned loud enough that he could hear you over the falling water. 
“Please,” You cried out. Weeks of frustration wanting to be let out. “Please, Buck…” Your hands wrapped around his shoulders, and you held on while he fucked you. 
Bucky almost froze again at the sound of his nickname falling from your lips. But he maintained his composure and sped up into you, feeling your walls clenching around him, gripping his cock. 
“You’ve been good today,” He said, noticing the way you clenched around him hard at the sound of praise. “You didn’t talk back, not once. Is it because you wanted this cock, baby?” 
You whined in response. Feeling his damp skin rubbing against yours, and for a brief moment you wanted to live in this moment forever. 
“Oh, poor baby.” He gave you a messy, heated kiss then said, “It’s all yours, you know? You just have to ask nicely. And you can have it whenever you want.” 
“Please…” You begged again, your pride nowhere in sight. “Please, Bucky.” 
“Come for me, baby…” He breathed against your skin. His hands held you in place as he pounded into you. “Come for me.” 
You did, moaning so loud it was all he heard as he came right after you. 
— 
It became a daily thing over the next few weeks. You’d seek Bucky out at random times during the day or more often right when he’d get into bed at night. 
“Were you good today, wife?” He asked, his hands already moving all over you trying to undress you as fast as he could. 
“Yes,” You breathed into his ear, your hands touching him all over his tattooed chest. “I even made you breakfast, remember?” 
“Those burnt pancakes count?” 
You shut him up by kissing him, pulling him down onto the bed and straddling him, then proceeded to ride him until you were both moaning and spent, too tired to move. 
Things got… playful. 
Oftentimes you’d catch yourself wondering why you weren’t actively working to get out of here. But your whole life was here now. Work, your family, and your husband. You didn’t hate Bucky as much as you thought you would. Just a few months ago you wanted to kill him on sight but now… 
“I saw the new building you work at. He bought you that?” Your father asked one morning when you went over to join him for breakfast. 
You cleared your throat and answered, “He did. He moved everything here. My businesses, my staff, all of it.” 
“And the girls?” He asked, referring to the infamous, feared, and fierce army you had raised and trained over the last ten years. 
“My girls are free to go wherever they want to.” You let pride fill you as you thought of them. “Besides, they don’t have to be here for me to know I can always count on them. They’re just a phone call away.” You explained. “Plus they have work to do. People to save, women to recruit. You know, the usual.” 
“I’m proud of you, you know?” 
You smiled at your father. Then a few moments passed and you couldn’t help but ask, “What happened after I left? Where is the rest of Bucky’s family?” 
Your father looked surprised. “He didn’t tell you?” 
“Tell me what?” 
Your father shook his head. “It doesn’t matter now. They’re all gone anyway. Plus the boy, he… he treats you right, doesn’t he?” 
You nodded. Then left it at that. You wanted a peaceful morning with your father, you didn’t want to ruin it by insisting he tell you about whatever it was that he wanted to keep in the past. 
But it bothered you, knowing that something happened while you were gone that you knew nothing about and everyone refused to tell you about it. 
All except one man. Your beloved friend, Sam. 
He showed up one morning, demanding to see Bucky. 
“He said he has an important phone call to attend to. With someone named Steve. He’s been outside for over an hour now,” You explained to Sam, who stood at the foyer looking disappointed, “It looks like he’ll be out for quite some time.” 
Sam frowned, and sighed. “He said to come over for a round of golf.” He sounded like he’d been betrayed. “Ever since he started doing business and being friendly with that Steve guy,” Sam complained, “That bitch has been trying to steal my best friend.” 
You chuckled and grabbed his hand to lead him further into the house. “I’m sorry my husband ruined your playdate, Sammy. But you can hang out with me.” 
Sam reluctantly agreed only after you promised to make him blueberry muffins. He liked those ever since you were kids. 
He agreed to help, and you both had a nice, comfortable conversation going while you worked. You caught yourself shaking your head a few times thinking about how just a few months ago if someone had told you you’d be in Bucky’s kitchen making muffins you wouldn’t believe it. 
But here you were now. 
Then Sam casually said, “I’m glad you two worked it out, you know? You’re so perfect for each other. Even back when we were kids, remember how everyone used to tease you two and say you would surely marry one another?” He laughed. “I mean after he told me all about how you heard him on the phone with me by the pool, I was worried you might never clear up the misunderstanding.” He chuckled, keeping his eyes down as he lined the muffin tin so didn’t see the way you froze. Sam continued, “I thought that’s why you left when I heard about your sudden disappearance. But–”
You cut him off, heart racing as memories of that night came flooding back in. “Sam… what do you mean on the phone with you?” 
Sam looked up, frowning. “That night of your twentieth birthday. Remember how you found Bucky by the pool? He was on the phone with me that night. He was so angry when he told me what his family was planning to do to yours, how they were going to–,” Sam cut himself off as the realisation set in. “Did he not tell you the truth?” 
Your heart pounded. Something was wrong. 
“Tell me what truth?” 
Sam’s eyes softened. “Oh, I shouldn’t be the one to–,”
“Sammy, please.” You begged in a whisper. “Even my father refuses to tell me anything. I have the right to know. What happened?” 
Sam tried his hardest to make sense as he told you everything in a rush. “Look, something went wrong back then. Bucky’s family began siding with the rivals and they were trying to take your father down. They tricked your dad into thinking that getting you and Bucky married would be a good idea and well, your father chose to believe his friends so he made that announcement at the party.” Sam sighed, “But Bucky’s family were planning something really bad. They were going to use the wedding as an excuse to gather all your family in one place and… end all of you. Just so they’d be able to expand their territory. Bucky found out about this plan and he was pissed. So that night, he called me. To vent.” 
You felt your eyes begin to water. 
Sam continued. “But then you found him. I remember him whispering to me that you were doing a terrible job at hiding behind a plant or some shit. Then your huge gown gave away your hiding spot. But given you were listening, Bucky decided he’d get you annoyed enough to have you at least try to call off the wedding which would buy us some time to figure out what to do. That’s when he began saying those things about you. Trying his hardest to sound like he truly did not want to marry you.” Sam sighed, “I mean there might have been a better way of doing it rather than fake dialogues on a phone call, but we were twenty year old boys. We didn’t know better. We didn’t know you’d write that note and just disappear.” 
What the actual fuck. 
“Sam…” You whispered in disbelief. 
He shook his head. “Please tell me you didn’t truly believe all that. He lied when he said those things that night, you know? Bucky liked you ever since we were kids. You don't remember how he used to get mad at me whenever I was around you for too long? How he always ignored your hiding spots when we played just so you’d win at hide-and-seek? You don’t remember how he used to bully your stupid boyfriends as we got a older?” 
You couldn’t believe any of this. But Sam would never lie to you. 
“Wait,” Sam put the pieces together. “So you didn’t know about any of this?” 
You closed your eyes and sighed, “I didn’t. I heard all the things he said that night and… I had spent my entire life loving him and I thought…” You sighed. “I was young and stupid and heartbroken so I just left.” Then you explained. “I got back recently, Bucky made this whole show of raining down bullets at my father’s house and, well, we kinda got married that same day, in my father’s destroyed foyer.” 
“You didn’t talk to each other this whole time?” Sam was in disbelief. “Oh for fuck’s sake. And I thought Bucky just never mentioned you while you’ve been gone because… well, he’s not exactly good at the whole heart to heart thing. He’s Bucky.” 
Your surprise morphed into anger really quickly. “I need to find my husband.” You said, quickly walking out of the kitchen. 
Sam yelled behind you, “I'm gonna take this muffin batter and go before he shoots me after he finds out I told you all this!” 
You just yelled back, “Bye Sammy, I love you”
Sam’s voice sounded distant as he yelled back, “Don’t let him hear you!” 
You ran out to the back, where Bucky said he would be. And you found him by the pool. Again. The sight of him standing there gave you déjà-vu. Except he wasn’t your twenty-year old crush, in a black suit, arguing with who turned out to be Sam, on the night of your birthday anymore. 
He was older now, your husband, wearing dark trousers and a loose white-button up shirt, standing by the pool with the sun setting behind him. You stood on the patio, for a second more, admiring him. The metal hand casually shoved in his pocket and his heavily tattooed arm held a phone to his ear. 
You called out, no longer containing your anger. “You absolute piece of shit!” 
Bucky looked towards you and just frowned, before rolling his eyes. Then said on the phone, “Hang on a minute, Steve. My wife’s angry at me again.” He lowered the phone to his chest and whispered to you, “What is it this time?” 
“How long were you going to keep the truth from me?” You accused him. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” 
He raised the phone to his ear again and said, “I’ll call you later Steve, something came up.” Then he hung up, tossed his phone onto one of the lounge chairs before turning to face you again. “Don’t get mad–”
“Stop telling me what to do!” 
He sighed. “Did Sam tell you anything? I saw his car coming in earlier.” 
You hissed, “Oh leave him alone! He’s a good man who doesn’t lie to me!” 
Bucky shook his head, understanding that you knew all about what he’d been hiding, and too calmly said, “They were gonna kill you. All of you. Not just your family members, but the guards, the family friends, the members of your family who aren’t even in this life – all of you. I had to do something. My folks were wrong, I couldn’t let innocent people die just because my family got too power hungry.” 
You took a step forward, “Why didn’t you tell me before I left? I would’ve talked to someone.” 
“We barely even talked to each other as we got older. I thought you wouldn’t believe me.” 
“But you could’ve at least tried to say something!” 
He was quiet for a moment. Then said, “I came to see you the next day.” He confessed. “The morning after the party. But your father had found your note and you’d already left. You never mentioned exactly why you left in the note, so I let him think it was because of me.” He explained, “Since there would be no wedding I didn’t have to worry anymore. But the threat remained. So I goaded your father into a fight. He took the bait and tried to shoot at me. He missed, of course. But enough people heard about it so he ended up declaring war against my family.” 
He paused. You listened quietly. 
“No one knew it was all because of me. But at least from then on, your father was more cautious. And he began hating my folks. And they couldn’t keep pretending to be his friend for much longer either. All the truth began spilling out. Soon the city was divided and the attacks began. Allies became enemies, just like that.” 
You were quiet. Processing everything. All of that shit happened and you were not aware. 
For some reason, you asked, “During those attacks… Is that when you lost your arm?”
You only realised you’d been stepping closer and closer to him when he raised said metal arm and touched your cheek gently. He smiled and said, “No, baby. That was a different time.” 
You had a tear sliding down your face. He wiped it away. “What happened then?” You asked. 
“My folks didn’t stand a chance. Your father was not only angry and betrayed, but he was also sad that he lost you because of them, or me.” Bucky explained. “It got… really bad. Your father lost a lot of his guys. Then he got angrier. So he stopped responding to the petty attacks and came after my folks directly.” 
“He killed them?” They were his friends once. 
Bucky said, “He still doesn’t know I helped him all the way until the end.” 
“But he spared you.” 
Bucky smirked. “He just could never catch me.” 
“But your family…” Bucky went against his own you realised. 
“They were bad people. Not just because of what they planned to do to you but…” He sighed. “They were doing bad things in the background. Dealing in substances, and people.” He spared you the gory details. 
But you understood.  
“Why didn’t you tell me all this that day we got married?” 
“You wouldn’t have believed me. You had just spent ten years hating me.” He shrugged. “But hey, it kept you safe.” 
You stepped closer to him, feeling tired with all that you felt inside you. “So you never meant the things you said that night?” 
Bucky pulled you close, cupping your face in his hands. “I have loved you my entire life. I never stopped.” 
You sniffled, looking up into his pretty eyes. “We lost so much time. I spent years hating you for nothing.” It hurt thinking about it. 
He smiled at you, “I should’ve thought it through better. But I was young and rash, and my family threatened to kill the girl I loved. I thought I was doing the right thing by pushing you away.” He sighed. “I just didn’t think I was going to lose you for almost a decade. I was always aware of where you were and what you did in life in those years. I was so proud of everything you did, the name you made for yourself. But I couldn’t reach you. You were angry and you hated me. So I waited. And then you came back and… I needed you with me. I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait any longer.” 
You wrapped your arms around him, shoving your face into the crook of his neck as you let the tears fall quietly. 
“Shh,” He whispered, running a comforting hand down your back. “It’s okay now, I’m here. We’re okay.” 
“I’ve been mean to you.” You whispered. “I’m sorry.” 
He chuckled quietly, “And I shot at your father’s house. We’re equal.” 
“I… I love you too, you know?” You sniffled. 
Bucky pulled away so he could look down at your teary face. “Sorry to say this, wife, but this isn’t half as romantic as the first time you told me you loved me.” 
You frowned. “What?” Did you talk in your sleep? Oh no. Did you? “When did I say it?” 
“We were seven, playing in the hedge maze in your father’s backyard.” He smiled, thinking about that day. “He had just had a new water fountain placed in there, and you wanted to show it to me. You must have thought it was pretty and that I needed to see it too. Then you dragged me all the way there and told me you loved me.” He smirked, “Seven-year old you would be disappointed in you right now.” 
A chuckle escaped your lips at the faded memory. “I wish we could go back in time.” 
“Well, we can’t. But we can have the rest of our lives together.” 
You sniffled again, wiped your tears. Then nodded, and leaned in for a kiss. Deepening it the moment he kissed you back. Your fingers found their way into his longish hair and you gently tugged at his roots. 
He smiled into the kiss when you whispered against his lips, “I like you with long hair.” 
“I see you’re being nice again,” He murmured in between kisses, “Does my wife need something?” 
You giggled this time. “I want you, Buck. Just you.” 
“You have me.” He said. “Always.”
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lubdubology · 1 month ago
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Til The Sun Turns Black
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SYNOPSIS: Your soul is bound to his and you're destined to follow him across the multiverse. When the TVA finds you and sends you to the Void, you feel your chance of finding him has slipped through your fingers. But what you find there is more than you bargained for.
PAIRING: Worst!Wolverine x fem!reader
WC: 13.1 k I apologize for nothing
WARNINGS: smut 18+, mdni, mentions of drinking, angst, peril, some fluff, implied age gap (I guess?), mental trauma, miscommunication, Wade being Wade, dirty talk, oral (m and f receiving), fingering, cowgirl, missionary, cock warming, sex with feelings, unprotected p in v
A/N: Thank you so much for all the love on Soft Edges! I was not expecting that kind of response when I posted that story, so thank you <3. I had the idea for this story in my head since after I first saw the movie. I had no idea my one random runaway thought would turn into this. Also, this story would not have been finished if it weren't for @joelsgoldrush. She let me tease her for WEEKS with this and act as the ultimate sounding board. And she's overall just a delightful human being and I'm so glad I've found her.
The TVA agent sits staring at you, an odd and uncomfortable smile on his face. Like he isn’t quite sure he knows how to smile but had seen it once on TV.  You also don’t think he’s blinked in the past several minutes. It makes your eyes water just thinking about it. 
“I don’t understand why I’m here.”
“Ah, yes, well—“ the agent clears his throat and smoothes a hand down his chest. “You’re a threat to the multiverse.”
You squint your eyes at him and wonder if you’re lucid dreaming. Or trapped in some bizarre fever dream, but you can’t remember being sick. “The…multiverse? As in, more than one universe?”
He nods once. “Precisely.”
It’s your turn to stare as absolutely none of this is making sense. The morning had started off normal—wake up, shower, coffee at your favorite local corner store. You had barely finished your latte when you were apprehended and taken to this bland room by a man who must own insane stock in eyedrops. 
“You see, we’ve been watching you for quite some time,” he continues, oblivious of your growing confusion. “A handful of reincarnations, actually. And we believe we’ve finally pinned it down.”
His words sound insane. 
You were a low level mutant at best. You’ve been able to deeply sense and influence emotions in others since you were six—a standard empath if there ever was one. But reincarnation?
“Reincarnations? I’m sorry but—”
You feel it coming then, that all too familiar prickle of deja vu creeping up your spine and setting deep in your brain. The room begins to soften, the corners blurring and you feel disjointed, separate from the you sitting in the chair.
“Ah, see. We’ve pinned it down.”
The world tilts on its axis and your mind explodes into brilliance, the memories of hundreds of alternate versions of yourself firing down your synapses, leaving you as raw and exposed as a fresh wound. The pain is all consuming as you gasp for air and desperately try to quell the throbbing in your skull. 
Your hands grip the edge of the table, desperate to clutch at something solid to root you in reality as the kaleidoscope of memories swirl before your eyes, colliding and merging with one another. All the timelines converging down to a single point of existence within your mind. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve experienced this process, the return of your memories—the return of your consciousness—was always accompanied by a torturous sensory overload. 
“You see? You have extensive knowledge of the multiverse. And that kind of knowledge is coveted and dangerous.”
Your vision blurs as the memories keep slamming into you and you can’t help the primal scream that rips from your lungs, the pain in your throat a welcome distraction from the torture in your head. And then, amid the chaos, a single figure emerges in crisp focus, a face you’ve seen thousands of times.
“Logan.” His name comes out in a whisper, your voice trembling.
You know he’s not actually in front of you and instead a mirage, a figment of your overloaded neurons, but his presence calms you. 
“Yes, Logan. You two are quite fond of each other.” The agent stands and you squint up at him, wanting to be anywhere else as you regain your memories. “But never mind him. We can’t have you traipsing around with all that knowledge in your head.”
“No, no, no, please. Please just let me find him,” you beg, hating the desperation laced in your voice. 
The last thing you see before being sent out of existence is his creepy, uncanny smile. 
+++
The Void was bullshit. 
It had been a month since you were unceremoniously dumped here. 
Maybe. 
You weren’t really sure.  
Time had no meaning, each day seeming to stretch on for eons and simultaneously in the blink of an eye. And for every single one of those moments you’d been focused on one of two things: finding a way out and not dying. 
You quickly learned you had a better chance at survival if you stuck to the outskirts and avoided others. So you squirreled yourself away, sheltering in an abandoned cabin and hoping beyond hope you could figure out a way out of the desolate cesspool you found yourself in. 
Figure out a way back to him. 
Back home. 
+++
You don’t venture out unless you have to. 
The Void is full of phantom emotions left behind by its previous inhabitants and the cacophony overwhelms you. Rage, terror and despair so thickly envelope every surface you feel like you’re choking. It’s beginning to wear so harshly on your nerves you wonder if you might actually go insane here.
There was a tension growing in the Void. You’d heard whispers of unrest within the factions, Cassandra hungry for something to sink her teeth into. The undercurrent of rage has increased in the last couple of days and it’s enough to set your teeth on edge.
Stuffing a backpack with a few essentials in case you get stranded, you ready yourself for a supply run. The thought of leaving the perceived safety of your cabin has little appeal, but you’ve been putting it off for far too long. There was a small cache only a few miles from your cabin that other survivors kept stocked with extra provincials. You were hoping for something good, anything other can canned food or cereal. Or Spam. 
Tightening the straps on your backpack, you take one last glance around before stepping out into the forest. It’s eerily quiet, no birds or animals chattering to fill the silence, just the crunch of your shoes against fallen leaves. The Void has always felt oppressive to you, the air just a little too heavy, but there’s something lingering today that makes you feel on edge. Your skin prickles with anticipation and you pat your belt for the knife you’ve stashed there. 
Just in case. 
You’re half a mile away from the cache when you feel it—the inky slick of anger. It catches on the air and wafts towards you in waves. You slow your steps as you approach the road and come to a halt when the battered van comes into view. 
Your breath hitches in your throat. 
You’d recognize those claw marks anywhere. 
Your heart races as your eyes trace the deep, jagged cuts gouged into the metal and the large swathes of blood coating the ground and what you can see of the interior of the van. Instinctively your hand tightens around the hilt of your knife and you crouch down low behind a fallen log. You scan the area for any signs of movement and find none, but you know Logan is stealthier than you and wouldn’t give up his location willingly. 
The van door creaks open on its battered hinges and you inhale sharply as Logan stumbles out of the vehicle covered in dried blood and sweat and more knife wounds and bullet holes than you can count. 
The sight of him ignites a spark of longing that blooms in your chest and makes you physically ache. You can feel him. Your lips remember the hungered warmth of his mouth against yours, the way he’d nip at your bottom lip so you’d open up for him. Your skin remembers the calloused rasp of his hands and not just the greedy grabs when he needed to claim you, but the light brushes of his fingertips against your palm as he held your hand, just to remind himself that you were real. Your nose remembers his scent, woodsy and clean, like the earth after rain. 
Shaking your head, you push down the memories and peer back over the log. A slight breeze wafts through the air and you watch as he sniffs, his head turning in your direction. 
“Fuck,” you curse lowly, trying to crouch further out of eyesight. 
You hear the metallic snikt of his claws and your pulse quickens. There’s no point in hiding—he knows you’re there. You take a slow, steady breath before attempting to focus waves of calm in his direction, hoping to ease some of the anger wound around him. 
His eyes lock onto yours, sharp and predatory and he shakes his head, trying to keep you out. “Who the fuck’re you?” 
You draw back your power and raise your hands in surrender as you slowly rise to your feet. You toss out your name and silently hope for a spark of recognition. But he doesn’t know you. Not yet. 
“It’s not safe out here alone,” you start, moving out of your hiding place. You walk towards him, his eyes following your every move. “There’s a cache just up ahead—” 
The atmosphere shifts without warning, the anger you’d felt previously now melting into thick, cloying fear and desperation. You can taste the ozone and the hairs at the back of your neck stand on end as electricity sizzles across the sky. Glancing up, you see the dark, swirling mass of Alioth just beginning to form. 
You look at Logan, panic racing along your nerves. “I promise I’ll explain everything to you later, but I know you, Logan, and right now I need you to trust me.” 
Alioth’s presence is getting stronger and drawing closer, and every drop of tension and rage swirling within is beginning to weigh down on you, threatening to suffocate you. 
Logan’s eyes narrow, but there’s a slight twitch in his jaw and you know he’s considering your words. His claws retract, but his muscles remain tense, coiled and ready to attack. You grab for his arm, feeling the warmth of his skin and the hard muscle beneath your fingers. “We have to go. Now.”
For a moment, you think he might resist. But then with a low curse, he follows you, his stride matching yours as you lead him towards the cache. The trees blur by, the wind picking up and beginning to toss leaves and loose branches into the air. 
You’re operating on pure adrenaline and your heart pounds in your chest as you run, Alioth gaining speed and distance faster than either of you can move. Each gasp of air burns your lungs and your muscles ache with the effort of your sprint. 
Still a quarter of a mile away from the cache, you know you won’t be able to outrun Alioth. The storm has consumed the sky, the sun diminished to twilight, as the thunder and groans loom ever closer. You turn towards Logan and yell, “It’s too close, we’re not gonna make it!”
Logan’s eyes flash with anger as you stop and turn towards the oncoming destruction. He grabs for your wrist, pulling you almost nose to nose. “What the fuck are you talking about?” he growls, chest heaving with the effort to breathe. “We can’t stop!”
His proximity briefly disarms you, his fierce gaze igniting something deep within you, but you don’t have time to dwell on those emotions. You take a deep breath in an attempt to steady your nerves. “I’m gonna try and calm it down.”
“What are you going to do, think happy thoughts at it?” he asks, his tone biting and sarcastic. 
You know every cell in his body is begging to fight, aching to release his claws and tear Alioth apart with his bare hands. But this isn’t something brute strength can subdue. 
“Just trust me,” you plead, your eyes searching his for some indication that he believes you. “Please.”
His stare is hard, but eventually his eyes soften and he loosens his grip on your wrist. “Fine.”
Tearing your gaze from him, you turn back towards the storm, now a full blown maelstrom of anger and destruction hellbent on consuming you both whole. You exhale slowly, pushing your own emotions of fear and panic as far down as you can. Instead, you turn inward and concentrate on every feeling of peace, calm and stillness you’ve ever experienced and project it outwards. Waves of soothing energy pour from you, an almost ghostly aura emanating from you as your power continues to grow. Alioth continues to surge towards you, the wind now flattening trees to the ground and lifting debris high into the air. 
The fight is excruciating, every cell in your body shaking with effort as you continue to project outwards, the sphere of your influence growing. When the two opposing masses collide, you’re almost knocked off your feet by the force. You’re vaguely aware of Logan beside you, claws unsheathing as he steps closer into your protective shield. 
For a brief moment, you feel the power of the storm ebb before it seems to press into you harder. Your knees begin to buckle and your stance slips. “I…I don’t know if I can hold it!” you gasp. 
Logan doesn’t run but instead moves closer, giving you one solitary nod. You can feel Logan’s eyes on you, feel the doubt swirling behind them and yet he stays besides you, ready to fight. 
His silent encouragement is enough. 
You are not dying in the fucking Void. 
Gritting your teeth, you continue to push. A guttural scream rips from your throat as black spots dot your vision and blood drips from your nose. You dig down, channeling every last drop of your energy into a final wave, extending yourself deep within the core of the storm. 
The black of the storm begins to retreat and the wind begins to calm. As the first few beams of sunlight filter in through the treetops, your vision fades completely and the world goes black. 
The last thing you feel is a pair of strong arms wrapping around you before your mind goes blissfully blank and unconsciousness claims you. 
+++
You wake up in the cache. 
Dust motes dance in the sunlight streaming in through the broken windows. The light is soft, definitely not the early morning glow from before you left the comfort of your cabin and you wonder how long you were out. With a groan, you try to sit up. Your body is stiff, every muscle in your body aching with the effort you took to banish Alioth. Wincing, you swing your legs out of the makeshift bed, the effort taking your breath away and you can feel the sickly creep of nausea climb up your throat. 
A low voice cuts through the haze. “Take it easy.”
Logan. 
You blink, trying to adjust your eyes to the light and find him sitting on the floor, one leg pulled up to his chest as a bottle of whiskey hangs between his fingers. He takes a long pull and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. 
“How long was I out?” you ask, your voice hoarse. 
Logan doesn’t answer immediately. He reaches over at a box beside him and then rolls a water bottle towards your feet before he finally mutters, “A day.” 
You accept the bottle with a nod of thanks. Taking a slow sip, you close your eyes as the liquid soothes your throat even as your body protests the movement. You’ve never used your powers to that degree before. Fuck, you didn’t even know you could. A perverse sense of pride licks at the edge of your exhaustion. 
Lowering the bottle, you breathe deeply in an attempt to settle the nausea rolling in the pit of your stomach. You glance at Logan and find him watching you, his eyes sharp, calculating. 
“You owe me some answers. You said you knew me.”
You meet his gaze, the weight of his words pressing down on you. After hundreds of encounters with different Logans, it was never easy explaining to him what you were. For a long time, you didn’t even have a name for it. All you knew was that your consciousness, all your memories, everything that you are moves across different universes and inevitably crosses paths with Logan. It always felt like an invisible string, guiding your soul to his. 
“I’m a temporal nomad.”
Logan’s eyes narrow as he glares at you. “A temporal what?” His tone is laced with skepticism. 
You take another sip of water, giving yourself time to gather your thoughts and push away the throbbing at your temples. “A temporal nomad. I don’t die, not in the way you think, anyway.”
Logan doesn’t move, but you see his grip tighten on the bottle in his hand, his knuckles going white. “You tellin’ me you’re immortal?”
“No, not immortal,” you reply, exhaling slowly. “When I die, my consciousness moves. I reincarnate in a different universe. Eventually I regain everything—my experiences, my memories, my feelings. It’s why—” you pause and take a deep, steadying breath. “It’s why I always find you.”
Your words hit their mark and Logan’s eyes flash with something you can’t quite decipher—shock, disbelief, maybe some anger. He sits up straighter, tipping the whiskey bottle to his lips without breaking eye contact. “You always find me?” he asks, his voice a low rumble. “We’ve met before?”
“I’ve lost count of how many time, actually,” you admit softly. “But in every reality, every universe, I find you. And we’re not just friends, Logan.”
Your words linger in the air between you and your heart pounds loudly in your chest. Logan stands suddenly, the now empty whiskey bottle clattering to the ground. He runs a hand through his hair before scrubbing it down his face, his jaw clenched as he paces within the small space. A mirthless chuckle escapes his lips. “This smells like bullshit, sweetheart.”
Your heart aches at his use of the word sweetheart. It’s one he’s always preferred for you, usually spoken with reverence, like a prayer falling from his lips. Except now it’s casual and cold, something with a sharp edge instead of softness. 
“I know how crazy it sounds. Believe me, Logan, it took me several lifetimes to wrap my mind around it.” You stand, your legs wobbly with the effort and you wince against the pull in your spent muscles. “But I know you.”
His expression hardens. “Yeah? Well, I don’t know you. And if you really knew me, you’d know to stay the fuck away from people like me.” Logan’s pacing grows more hurried, his hands clenching into fists. 
“I can’t,” you say softly, taking a tentative step closer towards him. “And I don’t want to. While I might not know the Logan in front of me or the nuances that make you different from the others, I know you.”
His nostrils flare and he lets out a low growl. “Stop.”
“I know the way you fight,” you continue, ignoring his warning. “I know the way you carry your pain as if no one else can possibly shoulder that weight. I know—”
“Stop!”
“—how you push people away to protect them, but that deep down you hope someone will push back. You may carry a lot of self loathing, Logan, but even you know you’re not heartless.” 
Logan’s fist slams into the wall behind him, the sound reverberating in the small room. He stands there, chest heaving, his knuckles bleeding from where they made contact with the rough wooden planks. You watch as the raw skin knits itself back together, his head hanging low. 
His jaw clenches as he wipes the blood from his hands, his breathing still ragged and posture rigid, itching for a fight. He glances over at you, his expression softer but still rough. 
“We’re done here,” he growls, but his voice soft, more broken than angry. 
Logan turns without another word and all you can do is watch him leave.
+++
You spend the rest of the morning dozing in bursts of fitful sleep, your confrontation with Logan taking its emotional toll. Your eyes burn with unshed tears and for the first time in your life, you feel as if you’re destined to wander this universe alone. 
But you can’t think about it. 
Not now. 
Ignoring the ache in your limbs, you pack up what supplies you can and ready yourself for the walk back to your cabin. The sun is a couple of hours from setting, the world bathed in golden light, when you set out. Walking down the steps, you pause at the distant crunch of boots on the gravel. You feel your pulse thrum in your chest as the sound gets closer and then he steps into view, his eyes locking onto yours. 
Logan. 
The sight of him standing there fills you with a rush of conflicting emotions. Relief, angry, anxiety and you’re not sure if you trust yourself to speak first. He looks the same—tired, disheveled, but steady and strong all the same. Neither of you moves, unspoken words hanging between you.
“I shouldn’t’ve left,” he says finally. 
For a moment you say nothing. Because it’s exactly what you want to hear from him. Except, because you’re beyond exhausted, mentally, physically and emotionally, you say, “No, you fucking shouldn’t have.” 
There’s definitely more bite in your tone than you intended, but the release of some of your pent up anger feels so good you can’t bring yourself to care. 
Logan’s eyes narrow as you move past him and keep walking. “Wait, so I come back here to apologize,” he begins, following close behind you, “and now you’re gonna just walk away?”
“You know, you never even thanked me for saving your ass,” you say, side stepping a downed log. “Just started demanding answers and then tucked tail and ran when you didn’t like what I had to say.”
He grabs your wrist and you stumble into his grasp, your breath hitching in your throat as you stand almost chest to chest. “I didn’t fucking ask for any of this!”
His anger bleeds into you, curling around your skin where his fingers press into your pulse point. You feel your nostrils flare and you’re itching for something to hit as you stare up at him, his jaw clenched. Your heart pounds wildly in your chest and you know you need to reign in your emotions or you’ll ignite the fuse between you. 
“You think I did?” you ask, pulling your arm from his grasp. Your voice is calmer, but just as sharp. “You think I want to relive the grief of mourning you over and over while also finding something new to love about you? You think I wanted to be banished to the Void all because my soul just can’t die when I do?”
Logan’s expression softens and he scrubs a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look. I’ve had a shitty coupla days here. And you’re saying a lot of shit I don’t understand.”
He seems weary, then, and any remaining anger you harbor towards him dies in your veins. You take a deep breath in and blow it out slowly. “You don’t have to understand right now. Just—just trust me. Please?”
You hate how your voice breaks just a little.
Logan nods then, the barest tilt of his head, but it’s enough.
He continues to follow you through the woods back towards the cabin and for a while neither of you speak. It should feel awkward, especially now, but it doesn’t. You’re so used to his brand of stubbornness and reluctance to see what’s right in his face that this is the most at home you’ve felt since you got here. 
“So,” you start after a few minutes of silence, “how did you end up here?”
Logan huffs. “Some asshole in red spandex dragged me here and I said I need to help save his universe.”
“And can you?”
His step falters and you pause to look a him, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the trees. “I couldn’t save mine.” The weight of his words linger, heavy with a burden only he alone has been shouldering. He doesn’t meet your eyes as he brushes past you and keeps walking. 
“Wanna talk about it?” you ask, catching up with him.
Logan growls. “No.”
“Alright, maybe later then,” you reply and he simply ignores you and keeps on walking. “Where’s this asshole friend of yours?”
“I left him tied up in the van.”
You had long passed the spot where you found Logan by the beat up van and the road was deserted. Based on the subtle smirk on his face, you figure Logan already knows that. Whatever his relationship is with the stranger, he seems somewhat happy to be rid of him and you don’t push him further. Although, you can’t help but wonder what happened to the van and whose hands it fell into. 
Logan’s gait slows as the cabin comes into view through the trees. He follows behind you as you clear the space, checking for any stragglers that may have come along while you were gone. Pushing open the door, you watch as he looks around, taking in the small space. 
“You’ve been living here?”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it living, but sure,” you comment, throwing your backpack on the table as you sit down. You can’t help the groan that escapes your lips as your muscles relax. “You can stay here if you want. I didn’t just let you follow me for your sparkling personality, you know.”
Logan actually laughs at that as he sits down on the small couch. His face lightens up, eyes crinkling just a bit at the corners, and for the first time since you found him, he seems unburdened. A blossom of hope grows in your chest and you grasp onto it, holding tight to the one bit of light you’ve had in this month of darkness. 
“Thank you,” he says softly. 
You know he means for more than the offer to stay and you return his smile with one of your own. “You’re welcome.”
As the sun starts to dip below the horizon, you bring out some extra blankets and a couple of pillows and help Logan turn the couch into a makeshift bed. You turn to leave when you hear him ask, “You really find me in every universe?”
“Yes.”
“That sounds terrible.”
You give him a small smile as you lean against the doorframe to the bedroom. “Oh, it’s not all that bad. I get to fall in love with you all over again.”
+++
You wake in the middle of the night to the sound of low, panicked growls coming from across the room.
You quietly slip from the bed and tiptoe towards the couch. Logan writhes beneath the sheets, pain etched across his face as he wrestles the demons in his sleeping mind. Taking a deep breath, you center yourself and focus every fiber of your power in his direction, hoping the waves of calm can break through whatever battle he’s fighting deep in the recesses of his mind.
Logan growls deep in his throat, the sound guttural and raw, his claws unsheathing and tearing at the sheets beneath him in agitation. A fine sheen of sweat beads along his brow and pieces of hair are plastered against his damp forehead.
“Logan,” you say softly, trying to break through the fog of his nightmare. “You’re safe, Logan.”
Your powers are waning, the stress of fighting off Alioth having left you depleted. You push down the ache, the tug in your brain demanding that you draw back, and instead kneel down in front of him, trailing your fingers across his palm and over the pulse point in his wrist. He jerks at your touch, his claws coming close to your skin, but the contact is enough and you feel his pulse slow beneath your fingertips.
You continue to speak in hushed tones, your voice barely above a whisper. “There you go, Logan. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”
Logan’s breathing is ragged, his eyes squeezed shut. You can feel the tension in his body, his muscles rigid with the need for release. You keep your fingers against his wrist, your touch steady and calming, as you bring up your other hand to smooth the lines along his brow.
“There you go,” you continue to murmur, “Focus on my voice. Focus on my calm.”
Gradually, his growls subside and his breathing begins to even out as the nightmare loses its grip over him. His muscles lose their tension and relax and the frantic movements of his limbs subsides. With one final deep breath, he stills, his claws retracting and he settles back into a peaceful sleep.
You sit and watch him for a minute, taking in all of his features and simply admiring him for the first time since your last life with him. This Logan is different—they all are in their own way—but this one a little more than the others. He seems wearier, more worn down, his usual scowl lines etched deep. There’s an exhaustion in his eyes, too, you haven’t seen before and you wonder if this Logan actually ever rests. 
As you stand, you feel his fingers circle loosely around your wrist and give a small tug. You look down to where he’s touching you, his skin hot against yours, and you glance up to find him staring at you through half lidded eyes. 
“Stay.” It comes out in a low whisper and as you open your mouth to protest, he adds, “Please.”
You could never deny him in any universe.
The couch is barely wider than he is, yet he shifts to make a sliver of space for you to slot yourself into. It should be awkward, the way you press yourself between the couch and the solid warmth of his frame, but it’s not. You hitch your leg over his hip, forcing your legs to tangle, as you rest your head against his chest. His heartbeat is strong and comforting beneath your ear and you find yourself quickly relaxing into his touch.
As you fall asleep, you feel his arm curl around you, tucking protectively against your ribs.
+++
When morning breaks, you’re alone. The warmth of his body is gone and you find yourself shivering. Pushing to sit, you wrap a blanket around yourself before standing up. 
The cabin is empty.
You try and ignore the sliver of panic that threatens to slip its way down your spine. 
Opening the front door, you pause when you find him sitting on the dilapidated porch, staring absently out at the trees. He glances up at you and watches as you sit down beside him. You hug the blanket closer around your shoulders and sit with him in silence.
You don’t mention last night.
“So,” you start, “what’s the plan?”
Logan raises his eyebrow. “You planning on stickin’ with me?”
“If you let me,” you reply with a smile.
You listen as Logan explains the events of the past couple of days, including Wade’s abduction of him from his own universe and how they both became to be bloodied and battered in the van. Your ears perk up when he mentions Paradox and returning to Wade’s universe. 
“You think he can actually get back?” you ask, willing yourself to not hold onto too much hope. 
Logan huffs. “Probably not.” 
“And yet you’re out here trying to think of a way to find him,” you say. “Why?”
A frown tugs at Logan’s mouth and he looks down at his hands. Eventually, he reaches into the pocket of his suit and pulls out a crumpled Polaroid. He tilts it towards you and you look down at the group or smiling people. “He’s got something to go home to,” he says, thumbing the edge of the photo. “I got nothin’.”
There’s something soft in his gaze as he looks down at the photo, some lingering hope he’s too afraid to put words to. 
“I’m sure you have something, Logan,” you say quietly. 
His expression hardens then, jaw tightening, as he slips the photo back in his pocket. “Had. Past tense.” Logan stands then and looks down at you. “Get ready. We’re leaving in five.” 
+++
You get ready quickly, changing your clothes and splashing water on your face before making sure your pack was sufficiently stocked. You were hoping you wouldn’t be needing it for much longer, but you didn’t want to express that thought out loud. Despite Logan wishing to go back to find Wade, you knew he wasn’t convinced this would end well.
Logan’s already started down the path as you jog down the cabin steps, swinging your pack up onto your shoulders. Catching up with him, you hand him the Pop-Tart you pulled out earlier. “Breakfast? They’re unfrosted, because this is the Void, but it’s something.”
He looks down at you, a strange expression on his face, but he accepts your offer. “Thanks,” he says, taking a bite.
“So, where exactly were you headed when you both decided to maul each other silly?” you ask, keeping pace with him as you walk through the woods.
“Johnny had mentioned a resistance out in the Borderlands,” Logan answers, swallowing the bite of Pop-Tart. “Figured we might find some people who could help us get control over Cassandra.” 
You nod. “You’re not far from the Borderlands. Maybe four or so miles from he cache. I haven’t ventured out that far, but I’ve heard there’s a few outposts where others have hunkered down.”
“Then that’s where we go.”
You walk in comfortable silence, leaving Logan to his thoughts as you travel further away from safety and into the unknown. You stop at the cache briefly, pausing only snag a few water bottles before moving on. 
A couple of miles past the cache, Logan suddenly stops, sniffing the air. His posture goes rigid, on alert as he slowly moves forward, beckoning you to follow him. A few yards away, the beat up van comes into view, parked alongside a lodging that looks as if it was built into the very earth itself. 
Logan’s arm darts out, stopping you. “Stay close,” he commands quietly, stepping cautiously closer towards the structure.
You follow behind him, every sense on alert as you step inside. The place is quiet, but then you hear it—the soft rustle of snoring. And then Logan’s soft, “Ah, fuck me.”
Peering over his shoulder, you find a sleeping Wade spread eagle on the bed. Logan side steps the bed, ignoring the sleeping man, and begins rummaging through the place. Finding a bottle of whiskey, he groans in delight, twisting the cap off and taking a long pull. 
“Really Logan?”
He quirks an eyebrow at you, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. “What else would you like me to be doing?” he asks, biting. 
“You came all this way to find him and now you’re gonna just drink?” you ask in disbelief. It gnaws at you, his indifference. You can feel little frissons of indignation licking at your skin and you have to tamp down your emotions before they bleed into him. 
Logan shrugs. “He’s asleep. I ain’t draggin’ him anywhere.”
You cross your arms, glaring at Logan in frustration. “I didn’t follow you here to watch you stand around and get drunk. Wake him up.”
He gives you a sidelong glance, his brow furrowing. You don’t relent, your stare pointed as he takes another long pull from the bottle. Muttering to himself, Logan makes his way over to the bed and gives it one swift, forceful kick. 
Wade jolts awake with a loud, exaggerated snort. He looks between you and Logan, his eyes finally settling on you. “Who’re you?” he asks, looking around as if expecting an answer. “When did the script get rewritten?”
You look at him quizzically, your eyebrow raised. “Who are you talking to?”
Wade huffs. “The audience,“ he says, gesturing towards the wall.
“Does he do this often?” you ask Logan in a whisper.
“Hasn’t stopped since he fucking dragged me here,” Logan replies. 
Your attention is diverted as Wade suddenly rolls from he bed, crossing the room and two large strides. He unsheathes one of his katanas, pressing himself against the wall and then he’s pinned on the ground as a woman pulls a blade of her own. After a moment, she lets Wade up and two more people follow into the room behind her. 
Logan eyes each one with suspicion as introductions are made and you can feel the tension growing within him as he continues to drink.
You jump as Gambit uses one of his playing cards to burst the bottle of whiskey in Logan’s hands. Logan ignores your pleading look and Wade’s admonishment as he grabs another bottle with a soft, “Boo boo boo.”
When Laura enters, you feel Logan’s interest pique, something heavy weighing on him. They both look towards one another, taking each other in and you don’t miss the recognition in Laura’s eyes.
“Do you know her?” you ask Logan, sliding closer to him.
Logan shakes his head. “No. But Wade’s Logan does.” He takes another long drink from the bottle, eyes still trained on her.
Wade continues to talk with the group, recapping their time in the Void and how they managed to escape Cassandra’s lair. Logan punctuates the conversation with vitriolic quips of his own, drinking more as Wade tries to get the group to form a team.
You try to send your power Logan’s way, trying to bleed into him some calm, but he shakes his shoulders and brushes you off. “Don’t fucking bother, sweetheart.”
“I can help you, Logan.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t ask for it.”
As Wade rallies the group into a cohesive unit, gaining their support in taking down Cassandra, Logan huffs a bitter laugh. “You’re all fucking dead.”
“Oh, my god, read the room,” Wade chides. 
+++
Logan storms off, one bottle of whiskey fisted in each hand. You want to follow after him, but Wade stops you. “Let him go, cupcake. Peanut’s in a fragile state and you’re too pretty to become mincemeat.”
You shoot a glare at him and brush his hand away from your shoulder. “No, he only seems to sink his claws into you,” you bite back, but the anger leeches from your voice. 
“Spicy,” Wade comments, “I like you. The script editor worked overtime on you, I can tell.”
“Yeah, well the jury’s still out over here,” you say, but you can’t help the twitch of a smile tugging at your lips. 
You glance over at the door and feel Wade sidle up beside you. “Seriously, cupcake. Chasing after him is like trying to catch a raccoon with rabies. Might be fun, but it’s not worth the bite.”
“Oh yeah?” you ask, peering over at him, “And how long have you known him?”
Wade pretends to look down at his wrist and taps a non-existent watch. “Four days, six hours and thirty-two minutes,” he says with a smirk, “but I don’t really like to put a timestamp on friendship."
With a groan, you plop down on the bed and rub at your temples. “Is everything a joke with you?”
“Mostly,” he chirps with a grin. He leans back against the wall and crosses his arms as he watches you. “But I have been known to press pause occasionally.” Wade regards you for a moment, a slight tilt to his head. “Honey badger does it for you, huh?”
Sighing, you lay back on the bed and stare up at the ceiling. “I have followed Logan through millennia, Wade. I can’t remember a time anymore where I haven’t loved him.”
“His mutant dick that good, huh?”
You half laugh, half snort and shoot him a pointed look. “Not everything is about sex, Wade.”
“Agree to disagree,” he says with a shrug. “We’ve all got emotional baggage, mine is definitely over the free to fly limit, but that guy? Literal mountains. Centuries worth, even.”
“Exactly,” you say, sitting up. “I’ve helped him carry more than you can imagine. Logan may push people away, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need someone to stay.”
Wade cocks his head, considering your words and his expression softens. “You know running after him isn’t going to fix him.”
“I’m not trying to fix him,” you reply. “He just needs to know someone is there for him.” 
“Well, it’s your funeral, cupcake,” he says with a sigh. “I promise I’ll give a really moving eulogy. But, I do think if anyone is gonna convince tall, dark and brooding out there to join us, it’s you.”
You give him a soft smile as you stand. “Thanks, Wade.”
“And just so you know,” he calls after you, “I’m open and willing to being your mutant dick rebound.”
You roll your eyes and walk out the door.
+++
You step outside and see Logan sitting by himself in front of a fire not too far from the lodging. Walking quietly, you stop when you see Laura approach him and sit along side him. You’re close enough that you can hear their words—hear Logan tell her about the suit, about how he found the X-Men, his friends, dead. 
The anger, the loathing, this Logan carries comes into focus and you can’t help but wonder how long he’s lived with this weight upon his shoulders. Suffering alone with only the bottom of a bottle to quiet the thoughts that scream in his mind.
As Laura eventually leaves, she catches your eye and gives you a small nod.
You feel a strange kinship with her. She too has memories of a Logan who no longer exists and who is radically different from the one she has now. You wonder what she’s thinking and have half a mind to follow after her when you hear Logan call out, “I know you’re there.”
You turn back towards where he remains sitting in front of the fire, the whiskey bottle now more than half gone. Closing the gap between you, you sit down alongside him and watch as he continues to stare down into the fading fire.
“How much did you hear?” he asks, taking a large swig from the bottle. 
“Enough,” you answer simply.
Logan grunts and takes a long pull from the bottle, his lips glistening as his swallows get sloppy. “Well, now you know. I’m the worst Logan,” he almost spits, his tone dark and bitter. “You drew the short straw with me, sweetheart.”
“You know I don’t think that,” you say softly. 
Logan doesn’t respond and instead finishes the rest of the whiskey, tossing the bottle somewhere behind him. Scrubbing a hand down his face, he looks over at you. “You actually gonna join them tomorrow?”
“Are you?”
“It’s a fucking suicide mission,” he answers. “You want to walk up to your death, be my guest.”
“If you’re so convinced this is a suicide mission, why don’t you want to go?” you counter, his ire beginning to bleed into the space between you and creep uncomfortably along your skin. “You afraid you might come face to face with actual death and realize that’s not really what you want?” 
Logan’s gaze flicks up to your face, his eyes dark, dangerous. “You’re fucking pushin’ it.”
“Good! Someone fucking should be!” you exclaim, standing from the fallen log. Maybe Wade was right—maybe this was futile. In every universe Logan could be a stubborn ass, but this one was particularly obstinate. “Do you really believe you’re so unredeemable, Logan? That you’re just a vile mutant who doesn’t deserve sympathy after his friends were brutally murdered?”
You can feel his rage boiling just under the surface of the thin veneer of calm. His eyes pierce into you, pinning you in place as he stands to his full height, his fists clenched tightly. 
“You don’t know shit about me, sweetheart,” he growls. 
Anger simmers in your veins, threatening to burn you from the inside out. “Oh fuck you, Logan.”
He takes a step closer, his eyes narrowing as his lips curl into a cruel smile. “Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you? Me sinking into your cunt while you picture whatever version of me you think I am.” His voice is a low rumble, adding to the tension threatening to suffocate you. 
Your breath catches in your throat at his words, and it isn’t desire that courses through you, but rage. Your skin prickles and his vitriol ignites something deep within you, something hotter and brighter than you’ve ever felt before. 
“After all this time and everything I’ve told you, you honestly believe that’s all I want from you? You’re a fucking pathetic asshole,” you snap, your voice sharp and laced with venom. 
Logan’s expression darkens, the smirk slipping from his face as his jaw clenches. “You got some balls sayin’ that shit to me,” he spits. 
A small part of you is terrified of him, afraid that he might actually snap. Might actually unsheathe his claws and send you onto your next life without ever having truly lived this one. But you know him, you know him. His pain and rage isn’t towards you, but himself. 
You risk a step closer to him, narrowing the space between you and you can feel the heat radiating off of him, mingling with your own fury. “Yeah, well at least one of us has a pair.”
Logan doesn’t have time to react before you channel your powers towards him, unleashing an explosive burst of energy that sends him staggering back. And then you smother him, smother him in thousands of years of memories, thousands of years of every single feeling you had ever felt for him in every universe you’ve known him. 
The weight of your emotional onslaught brings him to his knees, but you keep pushing, switching from your feelings for him to his feelings for you. All the affection, all the love, all the comfort the two of you shared in every version of your coupling across space and time floods his mind. 
You watch as his expression melts from anger into one of overwhelming vulnerability and pain. His hands, still clenched into fists, tremble beneath the weight of your power surging through him. He looks up at you then, his eyes pleading and your resolve breaks. Tears burn in your eyes and trail down your cheeks, wetting your lips as a scream rips from your lungs.  
Your hold on Logan dissipates as you reign your emotions back under control. You stagger on your feet as your power diminishes, your chest heaving with ragged breaths and broken sobs. You can’t look at him, not yet. If you do, you might actually break. So you do something that you never thought you would do—you leave.
+++
Night in the Void is cool, almost bordering on uncomfortable like everything else in this godforsaken place, but for once it doesn’t bother you. You gaze up at the sky, the haze of distant stars and planets blurring together the more you try and focus on just one. 
You’ve always loved looking at the stars. There was a comfort in knowing you could look up at the sky and see the same constellations in every universe, that there was always one constant among all the variables. 
You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting before you hear the crunch of his boots on the earth, dried leaves and twigs snapping under his heel. Logan joins you on the ground, sitting with a heavy sigh. The maelstrom of emotions swirling within him bleeds into the space between you and you can feel it, thick and heavy and suffocating. 
You risk a glance at him and he looks…defeated. His eyes are red-rimmed and raw and you see something in those hazel eyes you rarely see—fear. Not fear at you, although your guilt would rather have you believe that, but fear of himself, fear of feeling what you’ve shown him. Logan’s breath is slow, controlled, but you can hear the slight tremor in it. 
“I promised myself I would never use my powers on you” you start, your voice barely above a whisper. “I know what it feels like to experience that onslaught. It feels like drowning.” Your voice cracks and you fight to keep the guilt burning in your chest from consuming you whole. “And that was just a fraction of what we’ve felt across lifetimes, Logan.” 
Logan stays silent but gazes at your face, eyes flicking across your features, drinking you in. The scrutiny makes you shiver. Before you isn’t The Wolverine, the X-Man people in his universe loathe, but a man left raw and vulnerable. 
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he says slowly, his voice rough as the words are pulled from him. “You shouldn’t have shown me that.”
You flinch, the weight of his words are a punch to your gut. “I know,” you whisper, wiping tears from your eyes. “I know and I’m sorry, I—”
Logan cuts you off with a shake of his head, his eyes now locked onto yours. “I already knew, sweetheart,”he murmurs, his voice low. “You feel like—you feel like home.” 
Your heart stutters in your chest and for a moment you can’t breathe. The words hang between you, heavy and raw, the sound of them something you’ve been craving to hear. 
“I am your home,” you reply softly. 
Logan shifts beside you, closing the space between you as he slips his hand behind your neck and pulls you in. His mouth crashes to yours, his kiss urgent, rough and desperate. 
You reach for him, gripping his shoulders as you kiss him back, the Void slipping away. There’s only the heat of his mouth, the rough scrape of his beard against your skin, the way his other hand tugs at your waist in an attempt to pull you closer. 
It’s messy and intense and you don’t want it to end. Logan kisses you like a man starved, like you’re his last breath of air. 
A whimper falls from your lips as he finally breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. You’re both breathless, his nose softly nudging yours. 
“Please come with us tomorrow,” you whisper against his skin. “Let me take you home.”
He nods once and that’s all you need. 
+++
The morning comes quicker than anyone would like. 
Nervous energy bleeds through the group, everyone knowing they’re on the precipice of life or death, that this may be the last day they ever inhale air into their lungs or feel the warmth of the sun on their skin.
Logan’s quiet, already tucking into Gambit’s liquor, as you sit down beside him. He looks down at you briefly, taking a long long pull before offering you the bottle. You take it from him and take a swig of your own, the amber liquid burning a path down your throat. 
“What are you thinking?” you ask, handing him back the bottle.
He stares down at his feet, swirling the liquid around in the glass. “I honestly don’t even fuckin’ know.”
You reach for his hand and give him a comforting squeeze. He stares down at you for a moment and then drags his gaze up to your face. “Whatever happens Logan, I’ll be right there with you.”
Final preparations complete, everyone piles into the van, you tucking alongside Logan in the hatchback. The ride is mostly quiet, punctuated only with the few occasional quips by Wade just to ease the tension. You brace yourself, gripping Logan’s calf as Blade sends a rocket launcher through Cassandra’s front gate and Elektra floors it through the explosion. 
The others leave the van first, forming a line of defense. You look up at Logan and lean forward to press the faintest of kisses against his lips. His fingers curl around your neck and pull you closer, deepening it just enough to taste your mouth. 
“Let’s go,” he murmurs, pulling back. “Stay by me.”
You swallow hard, loathe to let him go, wanting to stay in the perceived safety of the van, but you simply nod and follow him to join the others.
Fighting erupts all around you and you stick as close to Logan’s back as you can. It’s a symphony of chaos—rage, fear and determination all swirling heavily in the air. You feel your power thrum underneath your fingertips as you channel those emotions back towards whoever Logan is fighting, hoping to disarm them—even if temporarily—with their own vitriol in an attempt to give him an advantage. 
The air burns in your lungs as you move through the fight, your mind spinning as you gain distance towards Cassandra’s lair. You can see the others move around you—Elektra and Blade slicing down enemies with their blades; Gambit disarming others with his explosively charged playing cards; Laura fighting in a style all her own, yet so much like Logan’s; and Wade cutting down others like he’s having fun.
A clear path opens up to the ramp leading up to Cassandra and the others swarm behind you, allowing yourself, Wade and Logan to break free from the melee. Logan looks back at you just long enough for you to see the fear in his eyes. You try and remain stoic, even though your mind is racing with all he the ways this could go wrong, and give him a small nod of encouragement. 
You stop short in front of Cassandra as she sits sipping tea, seemingly disinterested in the battle happening just outside her stronghold. “You two escaping I could live with, but coming back willingly…” she trails off, “Boys are so silly.” Her eyes dart towards you. “And you brought a friend!”
“I just need to get home,” Wade says, his tone serious. 
“I’m afraid that’s not an option.”
Cassandra flicks Wade aside effortlessly and Logan’s instantly on alert, claws extended at his side. You attempt to direct your powers at her, trying to defuse the anger simmering below her surface. She rolls her neck and glances at you, intrigue in her eyes. 
“Oh, aren’t you interesting,” she says, effortlessly flicking your powers aside. “I wonder what treats you have hiding in that mind of yours.”
Cassandra steps closer to you, her calculating stare flicking over your face. She lifts one hand up to you and from behind her, Logan growls and moves to attack. You watch, powerless, as she pins Logan to the ground with his own claws. 
She tsks and looks down at him, “That’s enough out of you.”
And then, she’s in your mind, every nerve ending in your body on fire, ready to consume you whole. 
You’re standing in a library, Cassandra at your side. Shelves extend as far as the eye can see, fading into an infinite distance. You walk aimlessly along the shelves, pausing at the entrance of a room simply titled “Logan”. 
“Oh, now this is something,” you hear Cassandra say from beside you. “This is quite the collection you have.”
Your fingers reach out and touch the spines, the briefest flickers of memories emanating from their covers. “I’ve known him for so long,” you murmur. “Been with him through so much.”
You pause in front of one book, the urge to open it nearly overwhelming. Pulling it from the shelf, the pages flutter open and you gasp, the memories of that life flooding your brain. 
You and Logan were married in this life. He worked a simple job, construction. There were no X-men, no missions, no danger. He kept his mutation a secret, showing only you when the memories got too rough, too unmanageable. You were his anchor. You had two kids—girls. And oh, how he loved them. Both of them wrapped effortlessly around his heart from before they were even born.
Tears spring to your eyes as the warmth of those memories flood through you. “I loved that life,” you whisper, putting the book back on the shelf.
“And who wouldn’t?” Cassandra agrees, placing her hand on your shoulder. “So effortless his love for you. So different from now.”
You glance over at her, confusion drawn on your face. False empathy tugs at Cassandra’s sympathetic smile. “Are you even sure he cares for you now? This Logan is so broken, more broken and unloveable than all these other Logans, hm?”
Shaking your head, you try to resist her efforts to batter you, to convince you your soul’s purpose is not worth it. Not worth him. “That’s not true. They’re all worthy. All capable and deserving of love,” you say, your fingers trailing along another spine. “Even this one. Especially this one.”
Cassandra’s face contorts then and…
She’s wrenched from your mind and you fall to your knees, blinking up as you see Wade holding Cassandra from behind, one hand holding Jaggernaut’s helmet to her head. 
Your mind still spins as Logan and Wade confront her, their conversation a jumble in your mind. But you don’t miss her saying either they kill her, or she kills them. Finding the strength to stand, you rise and place your hand on Wade’s arm.
“If I stay,” you start, focusing only on Cassandra and ignoring the press of Logan’s gaze into your skin, “Will you let them go?”
Logan reaches for you and you pull your gaze from Cassandra long enough to press your palm against this chest. You meet his eyes, silently pleading with him to let you continue. 
“Will you?” you repeat, unable to keep the pleading out of your tone.
Cassandra laughs bitterly. “You love him that much? To sacrifice yourself to save him? That Logan, out of all of them?”
You nod, feeling the tears burn in your eyes. “I love him that much,” you reply softly.
Logan grabs your hand then, forcing you to look at him. “Don’t,” he chokes out, voice thick with unspoken emotion, “Don’t do this.”
You smile softly as you reach up and cup his cheek, his beard rough against your palm. You don’t miss the way he briefly nuzzles into your touch, eyes fluttering shut as he sighs. “I love you, Logan. In all my lives, in this one and in the next one, too.” The first tear slips down your cheek as you look up at him. “I promise I’ll find you again, Logan. I always do.”
You press a kiss to his mouth, soft and gentle. It lingers for a moment, a desperate, bittersweet exchange as Logan tries to memorize the feel of you. His hands grip your waist, clutching almost hard enough to bruise, but you relish the pain. 
Wade stands beside you both, uncharacteristically silent, his hands still holding Cassandra in place. His usual banter is gone, the weight of the moment not lost on him. “This is the worst fucking idea anyone has ever had,” he mutters, but his tone is soft. “And I’ve had some pretty terrible ideas.”
Cassandra regards you with a mixture of amusement and curiosity. “If I let them go, you’ll stay here with me in the Void. Be my ally.”
You nod, “Yes.”
Cassandra’s eyes narrow, calculating, weighing her options. Finally she sighs, “Fine. But you know…no one will remember this little sacrifice of yours. The next Logan won’t even know you.”
Logan growls and you squeeze his hand in gentle reassurance. “It’s okay,” you whisper, your voice finally breaking. “I’ll remember enough for the both of us.”
You step away from Logan, your heart shattering with every step. Wade lets go of Cassandra and you feel the weight of your decision settle heavily against your shoulders. 
Cassandra pulls something from her pocket, slipping it onto her fingers. Before you, a portal opens up, just outside the boundaries of the room. Outside, the raging storm that is Alioth grows near and in that moment, you realize Cassandra was playing a game of her own.
“I figure,” she says, straightening the lapels of her jacket, “that they have approximately four seconds before they’re through.”
Your eyes flick to Logan and you memorize every detail, every emotion written across his face. With one final nod, he tears his gaze from you and he runs towards the portal, Wade alongside him.
And then, darkness consumes all.
+++
You’re unsure how long you’ve been out. The last thing you remember was Alioth screaming towards you, giving you barely enough time to cocoon yourself from his rage.
Cassandra is gone.
Wade is gone.
And Logan—Logan is gone.
You open your eyes and find Remy standing above you. He offers you his hand and helps you to stand. “C’mon, chère,” he says, nodding towards the open portal behind him, “Let’s go home.”
You’re not sure where home is any more, not without Logan, but you don’t have the strength to argue. From the moment you wound up here in the Void, you’ve been looking for a way out. Now that you have one, you know you need to take it. 
Accepting Remy’s hand, you join him through the portal.
You stumble into a familiar room and are greeted warmly by a smiling TVA agent. She’s unlike the first TVA agent you met, her presence comforting as she says your name. “We heard you’ve had quite the adventure.” She looks over towards Remy. “Mr. LeBeau, if you’ll follow this agent here.”
Remy leaves with he other agent, turning towards you with a wink. “Enjoy your man for me, yeah?”
Your heart flutters in your chest and you look towards the agent, trying to suppress the hope you feel in your chest. She smiles and rests a comforting hand on your shoulder. From her pocket she pulls out a small device, pressing a few buttons on the pad. Before you a different portal opens and she gestures towards it.
“Welcome home.”
+++
You stand in front of the apartment door and hesitate before knocking. Your nerves flutter uncomfortably in your belly even though it’s been less than two days since you last saw Logan in the Void. But you’re out now—you both are—and the fear nags at you that maybe this isn’t what he wants. That you aren’t what he wants. 
You stuff that thought down with a shake of your head. Raising your hand, you rap against the door three times and let out a shaky breath. When he opens the door, you feel as if the air has left your lungs and you forget to breathe. Your heart aches at the sight of him. 
Logan stops short, his face falling into one of pure disbelief and all he can do is stare at you.
“Is that my stripper?” you hear Wade call from farther into the apartment. Logan continues to stare at you as Wade pops up behind him, his face lighting up in surprise. “Oh, hey cupcake! Didn’t expect to—“
“Get out,” Logan growls, turning his head slightly in Wade’s direction, his eyes never leaving yours. 
From over Logan’s shoulder, Wade wiggles his eyebrows. “Ah, looking for some afternoon delight?” he coos, slinging his arm over Logan’s shoulder and patting his chest. “This guy has been jerkin’ it constan—“
You hear the sknit of Logan’s claws as they unsheathe into Wade’s thighs. “Ah, fuck! Fuck!” Wade curses. “You’re supposed to be penetrating her, not me!”
“Get. Out,” Logan repeats, retracting his claws. 
“Fine.” Wade pushes past Logan’s frame, limping slightly as his wounds heal themselves. “You’re lucky Blind Al’s already out playing Bingo. Or selling herself for blow. I don’t actually know her schedule,” he comments as he walks down the hallway. “Glad you’re home, cupcake.”
Logan barely waits until Wade is out of sight before tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling you towards him. Your gasp dies on your lips as he drags you inside, shutting the door with his foot and pushing you up against the rough wood. Then his mouth is on yours and it’s warm and wet and wonderful. 
His hands cup your face, fingers moving to tangle in your hair and you feel him everywhere. You whine as he nips lightly at your chin before trailing his lips back up your jaw, licking into your mouth as he kisses you deep. 
Your fingers scramble for purchase, fisting themselves into the fabric of his button-down flannel. 
There’s a desperation and urgency bleeding from him, as if he can’t drink you in fast enough, or hard enough, or long enough to satiate the longing that’s within him. And you’re feeling it too, an ache growing deeper in your belly, a need to be consumed by him fully and you whine into his mouth because he’s not nearly close enough to you.
A thigh slips between your legs as he kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat, a moan falling from your lips as you greedily seek friction. 
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Logan husks against your shoulder, pulling your hips harder against his clothed thigh. 
Your hands cup the sides of his face, your fingers scratching lightly against his beard. You force him to look at you, his pupils blown wide. “I always come to you,” you say softly. “I always come home.”
He kisses you softly then, his mouth slow over yours and he drops his thigh from between your leg. You whine at the loss and he pulls back. “C’mere,” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you further into he apartment. “I’m not fucking you for the first time against a door.”
You follow him to the bedroom, your chest heaving with ragged breaths and you can feel the prickle of anticipation along your spine as he turns back to look at you. His eyes never leave yours as he shrugs off the flannel and pulls his t-shirt over his head. Your eyes trace the lines of his chest, the strong definition of his muscles, following the line of hair that leads to the top of his jeans. As you bite your lip, you hear his chuckle, “My eyes are up here.”
“Mmm, yeah they are,” you start, tugging your shirt off and shimmying your pants over your hips, “but the view down there is nice, too.”
Logan reaches for you, his large hands skimming over your hips, over the flesh of your ass and under your thighs, lifting you up and forcing your to wrap your legs around his waist. With an easy flick of his fingers, he’s unclasped your bra and you toss it aside with the rest of your clothes. 
Kneeling on the bed, he lays you down, kissing his way down your stomach, his nose nuzzling along the top of your panties. “Do you have any fucking idea how sweet you smell?” His mouth is hot against your skin and he laughs as you tilt your hips up towards him. “You want me to fuck you with my tongue? Lap at you until you’re seeing stars?”
Molten desire shoots down your spine and you can feel the slick between your thighs. God, the mouth on him was going to be the death of you. 
You prop yourself up onto your elbows and look down at him. “Just fucking touch me already,” you whine, and you hate how desperate you sound. “Haven’t we waited long enough?”
He presses a wet, open mouthed kiss to your inner thigh before dragging his nose along the center of your clothed cunt. You inhale sharply as he kisses over your clit before trailing his fingers along your hip bones and pulling the fabric down. His warm hands palm along your thighs and he opens you up, staring down at you with hunger in his eyes. And then his mouth is on you, his tongue licking a hot stripe through your folds before sucking your clit into his mouth. 
“Oh, fuck,” you moan as his mouth continues to lap at you, pleasure tingling low in your belly and spreading through your limbs.
Logan hums. “Sweetest pussy I’ve ever tasted, sweetheart.” His tongue dips down, collecting the arousal at your entrance. “I could die happy between these thighs.”
You trail your hands down over your chest, briefly palming each breast before you continue down and sink your fingers into Logan’s hair. His groan rumbles through you and you don’t miss the way his hips start to rut against the mattress, seeking friction. 
His mouth and tongue continue to move over you, long, slow licks punctuated by gentle sucks and flicks over your clit and you can’t stop the grind of your hips against his face. You feel his smirk against you as one thick finger finally sinks inside your walls, nudging that spot deep inside that makes you squirm.
Another finger slips inside you and a low whine spills from your lips. 
“You’re beautiful like this, you know that,” he says, voice rough, thumb replacing his tongue against your clit as his fingers continue pumping. “All blissed out and needy and desperate to come on my fingers.”
His words zip through you as he fuck you with his hand and you bite your lip. “C’mon,” he purrs, “let me hear all those pretty sounds you make.”
Soft whimpers spill from your throat as he continues to work you, that pull in your lower belly growing stronger and stronger. His hand never stilling, he kisses his way up your body, pulling a nipple into his mouth and then you’re coming, cunt clenching around his fingers. 
Logan licks into your mouth to steal your cries as he continues to work you through your orgasm. Your thighs clamp around his forearm, the pleasure overwhelming. 
He finally stills, pulling his fingers from you and you whimper at the loss. You watch through half lidded eyes as he licks his fingers clean of your slick and you feel that flame reignite in your belly. 
“Take your pants off,” you demand, breathless, pushing at his chest. 
Logan laughs, but allows you to push him onto his back. “You always so bossy after you come?”
You fumble at his belt, undoing his buckle and unzipping his jeans before shoving them down his hips. “Make me do it again and find out,” you taunt as his cock springs free.
He kicks his pants the rest of the way off and you sit back on your heels and admire him for a moment. Your eyes trail from his broad shoulders, down the contours of his chest and follow that line of hair down his stomach to between his thighs, where his cock stands, thick and ready. 
“I will never get tired of looking at you,” you sigh, raking your nails down his thighs, deliberately not touching him where you know he wants it the most. “You’re so beautiful, Logan.”
Whatever response he has, dies in his throat as you finally wrap your hand around his cock, giving him one long, firm stroke. He’s hot and heavy and you’re aching to feel him inside you. But not yet. Leaning down, your eyes meet his and you trace your tongue along the underside of his cock, tasting the salt on his skin.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Logan curses, unable to stop the thrust of his hips, chasing your mouth. 
You wrap your lips around the head, swirling your tongue over the slit and collecting the precum there before taking as much of him in your mouth as you can. Logan hisses through his teeth, fingers winding their way into your hair to help guide your movements. 
“You’re so warm and wet, sweetheart,” he groans. “But I don’t want to come in your mouth.”
You give him one last stroke as you release him from your mouth and climb up to sit on his thighs. Logan pulls you forward by your hips and you gasp as your cunt slides across his cock. 
“Line me up,” he instructs and you obey without hesitation. 
Gripping him in your hand, you guide him to your entrance, notching him inside before slowly sinking down atop him. A sob chokes in your throat at the thick feel of him inside you, stretching you, making you feel complete. Your entire existence boils down to where he’s joined with you and you relish the burn.
His hands are everywhere as you start to move, caressing your thighs, your hips, up to your breasts and back down, tracing a map on your skin only his fingers can read. Praise falls from his lips in an almost nonstop litany, telling you how wet you are, how tight, how warm, how good you’re making him feel.
“Do you want to know how you make me feel?” you ask, breathless. You look down at him through half lidded eyes and find him just as flushed and wanton as you. “How you’ve always made me feel?”
You continue to rock back and forth on his cock, slow, deliberate movements that leave you wanting, needing more. Logan shifts his hips and finds the leverage to fuck up into you, the deep drag of his cock against your walls making you throw your head back and moan. 
“Fuck,” he growls, his fingers sinking deeper into the flesh of your hips, pulling you somehow impossibly closer. “Show me, sweetheart.” 
You brace your hands against his chest, raking your fingers through the damp hair there, feeling his heart beat beneath your palms. Leaning down, you capture his mouth with yours, the kiss sloppy as he continues to thrust up into you. You move your hands up his neck, your fingers collecting the sweat along his jaw and then, “Feel, Logan.”
It starts slow, an almost faint heat spreading from your fingertips as they ghost over his skin, your power beginning to pulse in time with your heartbeat. Logan gasps and his rhythm falters as the first wave of emotion hits him. You slow, too, your hips barely moving as you run your fingers down from his jaw, over the column of his throat and back to his chest. 
Your palms rest against his ribs as you continue to pour into him all the love and passion he’s ever shown you over centuries. Logan stares up at you in reverence, his face soft as he runs his hands up your sides, over your breasts. He tugs you down towards him, his mouth hovering over yours.
“Do you feel, Logan,” you ask, your breath hot against his lips. “Do you feel how much you love you have in you?”
He draws your bottom lip into his mouth, biting softly once, before capturing your mouth fully, kissing you deep. You hum as his tongue swipes against yours and his fingers tangle in your hair. 
A gasp pulls from your throat as Logan wraps his arms around you and flips your position, forcing your legs around his waist as he begins to thrust into you again in earnest. You feel him deep in this position, each thrust of his cock against your walls hitting that perfect spot inside of you. 
“It’s too much,” he groans into your skin. “Never…never felt like this.”
You rake your nails along his back, relishing in the growl that falls from this throat. “It always feels like this,” you gasp, drawing your power back. 
His arms slide under your shoulders, anchoring you in place as his hips continue to thrust into you. It’s lewd almost, the slapping of skin against skin and the wet noises from where you’re joined. His breath is hot and damp against your skin where his mouth hovers over the pulse point in your neck. 
Your fingers snake into the short strands of hair at the back of his neck and your other hand slips in between your bodies, reaching for your clit. 
“That’s it,” he moans, “use those fingers to get yourself off on my cock.”
You can feel where he’s sliding thickly into your cunt, the wiry hairs at the base of his cock damp with your arousal, and you begin to rub in time with his thrusts. Pleasure zips along your spine, every cell in your body afire at his touch. You feel that telltale tug low in your belly and you know you’re not going to last much longer. 
He slides his hands down from your shoulders, following the curve of your spine, forcing you to arch your back. Taking the opportunity before him, he swirls his tongue over one nipple, then the other as he palms the flesh of your hips in his hands, angling your hips further up into his. A keening whine falls from your lips as he somehow thrusts deeper into you, making your legs shake. 
Logan nudges your hand away from your clit, replacing your fingers with his own as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge. His eyes are focused on the sight of his cock thrusting into you and the slick smeared across your thighs. 
“Logan,” you gasp, “I’m so close.”
“I know, sweetheart,” he rasps, dragging his gaze up to your face, “I got you. Takin’ me so well, so tight. Gonna spend the rest of my life tellin’ you how fucking good you are.”
His words tip you over the edge, your orgasm rolling through you as you spasm down on his cock, his name falling from your lips. He fucks you through your orgasm, each thrust of his hips sending aftershocks of pleasure along your limbs as he chases his own release. Logan’s thrusts grow erratic and you reach for him, grasping at his forearms, pulling him down to you. 
“Come for me, Logan,” you murmur in his ear. “I wanna feel you come.”
With one final thrust, he comes with a groan, forehead pressed against yours as he spills himself deep within you. You can feel cock spasm as he lazily thrusts through his orgasm, using your body to wring out the last of his pleasure. You hold him close, pressing open mouthed kisses to his jaw as he finally stills within you. 
Careful not to crush you, Logan pulls you to him as he rolls onto his side. He doesn’t pull out, tugging your leg over his hip to keep you close and full. 
You smile up at him, brushing the damp hair away from his forehead. He sighs at your touch, a content sound that tugs at your heart. 
“You really love me in every universe?” he asks softly, brushing his nose against yours. 
“Yes.”
“Even this one?”
“Especially this one.” 
You don’t know what the rest of this life holds, but you do know one thing—wherever he goes, you’ll be right there with him. 
2K notes · View notes
cosmic-ships · 11 months ago
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Alright here's all.... *Checks notes* 63ish ship names in the tags :' )
reblog with your selfship ship name
mine is cobweb
#glass Sharda and street art/ shards and Embers/digital hearts/would you make me number one on your playlist?/I wasn't looking for you#I'll be there for you; as the world falls down/I'll be your contradiction|| 💙/never knew I could feel like this#from underneath the willow tree/this sanctuary is only for us/transformative love/where the water covers over everything; rescue me#daggers ans dragoons/lets got fishing and take a nap/Hymn of our heartbeats/metal flower petals/comic books and snipers#you're not alone anymore; you have me/let's lose ourselves for a moment/damaged but not broken/let's take a gamble#let's steal time/dangerous games/the fox and the fixer/tainted hearts/wrong place at the right time/a wolf in sheep's clothing#wherever you go I'll follow/corrupted punishment/sound the alarm || 📢/hello operator ✖️/we're magnetic/if it means a lot to you#you're not alone in the dark/reflections of light/spider bots and smoke bombs || 💣🕷️/Listen to the cries of the planet#fly me to the moon 🎶🌙/buisness and pleasure/when we finally collide/don't go where I can't follow/hearts of gold/#a flame that burns only for them/a love that surpasses time/enlightened souls with shotguns/let's run away#a boost in morale/stealth and tv static/chems and justice/immortal heartbeats/testing fate/show me your darkness I'll show you my love#resist and rise up/you're crawling up to me and it's all I want/I've never heard silence quite this loud/sanity in chaos#you can fool others but you can't fool me/bars and demons/i became what I feared the most/fight; grieve and heal#I just pooped in to say hello/pretty and badass/agents in love
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greengoblinswifey · 25 days ago
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In His Arms
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairings— topper thornton x kook!reader, rafe cameron x kook!reader
summary— when Topper places a bet to win you over just to sleep with you, you’re crushed after finding out the truth. in the midst of your heartbreak, you end up in the unexpected arms of your enemy, Rafe, who’s ready to prove he’s the one who truly cares.
warnings— angst, enemies to lovers, topper being an asshole per usual, heartbreak, fingering, oral( f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, possessive!rafe, fluff.
Rafe Cameron had always been a thorn in your side. From day one, it seemed like his favorite pastime was finding every possible way to get under your skin. “Nice shirt. Did you get it at a thrift store?” he’d sneer, a smug grin tugging at his lips. You rolled your eyes, firing back, “Careful, Rafe. Your insecurities are showing. And no, it’s vintage Chanel, you can’t afford it.”
His laugh was low and dark. “Keep telling yourself that, princess.”
But Topper was different. At first, you’d thought he might be the same as Rafe, but he surprised you with small, genuine gestures that made you feel seen. Over a few months, his attention turned to actual dates, and soon, he had you believing maybe he was genuinely interested. He’d take you to dinner, text you first, and make you feel like the center of his world.
Little did you know, behind his sweet smiles and warm texts, Topper’s interest wasn’t as innocent as it seemed. It had all started as a dare from Kelce, get the famously “cold-hearted” kook to fall for him. But the more time you spent with him, the less you cared about the rumors, until one day, Rafe overheard Topper boasting about his plans.
Rafe cornered him at a party, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re really going through with this?” he asked, a flicker of something unrecognizable in his eyes.
“Relax, man. It’s just a bet. After I get to fuck her, I’ll be done,” Topper smirked, shrugging.
Rafe’s jaw clenched. “She thinks you actually like her.”
Topper laughed, shaking his head. “I think you’re the one getting worked up over this, Rafe. Didn’t realize you cared so much.”
Rafe scoffed, but a knot formed in his stomach. As much as he hated to admit it, something about this bothered him. More than it should. He didn’t know what to do so as usual he snorted his worries away. Getting high made him forget.
On a date at a high end restaurant, Topper’s gaze was warm, his hand gently brushing your cheek. “You’re stunning, you know that?” he whispered, his smile making your heart race. For once, you felt seen. The weeks of getting to know him had softened your defenses, and as much as you resisted, you were falling.
“I’ll be right back,” you said, excusing yourself to the bathroom. But as you turned the corner, you collided right into Rafe. He smirked, the usual teasing gleam in his eye. “Careful, wouldn’t want to break a heel on your way back to, oh, wait, is that Topper you’re here with?”
Rolling your eyes, you snapped back, “Yes, not that it’s any of your business.”
For once, he didn’t have a comeback ready. His face shifted, momentarily speechless, and before he could say anything else, you turned and headed back, brushing off his attempt to stop you. Watching you walk away, Rafe’s jaw tightened as he wrestled with thoughts he’d rather ignore.
Later, at Kelce’s party, Topper’s arm was securely around your waist with you in his lap as you both laughed and drank. The warmth of his body against yours, the way he looked at you, and his gentle kisses made you forget everything else. He leaned in, his voice low, “Maybe we should take things to the next level tonight, yeah? I wanna fuck you.”
Your heart skipped a beat, his hands tracing along your inner thigh. “Sure, we can do it tonight. After the party.” His grin widened, and you felt a surge of excitement. Tonight was going to be special.
You excused yourself from Topper’s lap and slipped into the kitchen for a drink, Rafe was there, his face unreadable. He looked at you, and this time, there was no hint of a smirk. “So...you and Topper. You finally…?”
You glared at him. "That’s low, even for you, Rafe."
He shook his head. “You’re making a mistake. It’s just a bet to him.”
You rolled your eyes. “Maybe you’re the one who has a problem, Rafe. What, jealous I’m not with you instead?”
He scoffed, looking you in the eyes. “You’re so caught up in yourself that you can’t tell when someone doesn’t care, and when someone actually does. Get your head out your ass.”
You scoffed, dismissing his words. In the bathroom, you touched up, telling yourself it was just Rafe being Rafe—always looking for a way to throw you off.
As you walked back out, you caught the end of a conversation between Topper and Kelce. “She actually likes me,” Topper laughed, voice laced with cockiness. “Tonight, I’m gonna win this bet, fuck her, leave her and finally shut down her little ice queen act.”
Every word struck you like a slap. Rafe’s eyes met yours across the room as the reality hit, and as the other Kooks chuckled, you turned and ran.
Topper’s voice called after you frantically, but Rafe was the only one who followed.
Rafe caught up to you just as you stumbled outside, and you could feel his presence before he even spoke. He opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off. “Don’t. Just don’t say anything, Rafe.”
He nodded, surprisingly quiet. “I’m not here to say I told you so,” he murmured.
For the first time, he saw you as you really were, vulnerable, your walls lowered. His own heart twisted as he saw a tear slip down your cheek, and he felt an unfamiliar ache. You hugged yourself, looking utterly lost, and before he could stop himself, he stepped forward, hesitantly wrapping his arms around you, almost as if asking for permission.
You didn’t pull away. Instead, you melted into him, and he began to rub your back gently, his hand moving up to stroke your hair. “It’s okay,” he whispered, “You’re wasting tears on someone who doesn’t deserve them.”
You pulled back, attempting to hide your tear-streaked face, but he brushed your cheek softly with his thumb, wiping the tears away. You took a shaky breath. “I feel so stupid,” you whispered. “I should have seen it.”
Rafe shook his head, his voice low. “Topper’s the idiot here. Not you.”
On the drive home, Topper’s texts kept buzzing through your phone, his apologies and pleas for you to listen just making it worse. Rafe glanced over. “You don’t have to read those, you know.”
When you reached your parents’ mansion, Rafe turned to you. “I don’t think you should be alone tonight. Let me come in, just to make sure you’re okay.”
You rolled your eyes. “I’m not going to do anything drastic, Cameron.”
A ghost of a smile flickered across his face, but he followed you inside and up to your room. He sat on the edge of your bed, and you found yourself collapsing next to him, leaning into his shoulder. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close.
For a moment, neither of you could quite believe it, you, in Rafe Cameron’s arms, and Rafe, holding you like you were something fragile, something he needed to protect. The silence settled over you both, emotions filling the space in a way words couldn’t before you started sobbing again.
Rafe’s chest tightened with anger as each soft sob left your lips, his urge to protect you growing stronger by the second. He couldn’t bear to see you like this, broken by someone he’d thought was his friend. Steeling himself, he abruptly went to the bathroom, grabbing a damp rag, and returned to gently wipe your tear-streaked cheeks. You gazed up at him with wide, vulnerable eyes, but his focus was on making sure every tear was gone, trying to wash away the hurt you’d been through.
Without thinking, he murmured, “You’re beautiful.” Your breath hitched, and though you didn’t respond, the emotions between you both hung heavy in the air. Slowly, you climbed onto his lap, closing the gap between you as your lips met his, first softly, then with a rough, growing passion that surprised you both. You could feel his need, his care, and in that moment, every lingering hurt seemed to fade. But as you pulled back, reality crept back in, a flicker of fear crossing your face.
“Rafe...was part of the bet for you to…?”
His face fell, and he held your cheeks, meeting your gaze with a sincerity that surprised even him. “I would never do that to you. I’m not a monster.” His voice was soft but firm, hurt at the very thought. “Topper’s an idiot for what he did, and I’ll make sure he regrets it. I’m sorry you ever had to go through that.”
Your fingers traced along his jawline, a silent acknowledgment, and before either of you knew it, you leaned in again, your kiss deepening. You slipped out of your crop top, and his breath hitched, seeing your bare breasts in front of him for the first time, realizing just how much had changed between you in that one night.
Rafe took in your beauty, his voice barely above a whisper as he asked if he could touch you. With a soft nod, you felt his hands reach for your tits, gentle yet filled with a yearning that matched your own. His lips found your skin, leaving a trail of kisses as his hands roamed, exploring with a careful reverence. You grasped at his buzzed hair, arching into his touch, and he responded by holding you even closer.
“Rafe,” you pleaded, not even sure what you were begging for as you felt his lips and tongue fiddle with your nipples and pleasure surge through your body.
“What is it baby? What do you want me to do?” he inquired, in between nibbling on your tits.
“I- just help me forget, please.”
He complied, willing to do anything to take away your hurt. He lifted and laid you gently on the bed, going between your long legs and slowly taking off your shorts and the lacy thong underneath.
“Wow,” he gasped, “prettiest fucking pussy i’ve ever seen. So fucking glad he didn’t get to take this off you tonight.” You giggled, smiling for the first time after everything happened, a part of you was glad too.
He grabbed under your thighs, making your legs sit on his shoulders before he delved into the exquisite cuisine before him that was your wet core. “You taste amazing sweetheart,” he said, slipping a finger inside your tight hole.
“God, I can barely get a finger in, how’s my dick gonna fit?” Rafe was only your second sexual experience, probably one of the reasons Topper wanted you so bad. To feel like he conquered you in some way even if he wasn’t the one to take your virginity.
The asshole was knocked out of your mind when Rafe’s efforts sped up and all that could be heard were the sound of your pussy wet and squelching and your own moans, praising him.
“That feels so good, you make me feel so good.”
“Never thought I’d hear those words princess, I could get used to it.” That stupid smirk was back on his face and this time, you welcomed it.
He continued sucking and flicking your clit with his tongue before slipping in another finger making you feel full and writhe in the feeling of your g spot being constantly toyed with.
“I can feel this tight pussy clenching around my fingers, let go for me baby, it’s okay, I want you to cum on my tongue.”
You complied with his request, your hands grasping the little hair he had as he held you down and continued eating your pussy through your high. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your head became foggy and all you could think about was how good he made you feel.
After you came down from your high, he kissed you from your pussy, to your stomach, up your chest, your cheeks, your lips then to your forehead, muttering praises in between.
“So beautiful.”
“You did so good for me.”
“Only I can make you feel this good.”
He removed the remnants of his undergarments and you bit your lip seeing the large package he owned.
“Huge ego but you have the package to match,” you said, almost in disbelief.
“What can I say.” He pumped his cock a few times, spreading the pre cum on his glistening head before hovering above you, his eyes on yours as he used it to rub all over your entrance. You moaned his name as he teased you, wrapping your legs around him so you could feel him inside you. You needed him.
Rafe’s gaze lingered on you, a mix of softness and intensity as he moved closer, brushing his lips across your neck, his breath warm against your skin. In a low voice, he murmured, “I should’ve done this a long time ago.” Each word sent a shiver through you, his hands tracing along your sides with a careful yet undeniable eagerness, as if he was finally allowing himself to experience something he’d been holding back.
He took his time inside you, eyes locked with yours, watching every reaction, every flicker of feeling that crossed your face. “You’re perfect, made just for me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but filled with sincerity. His kisses trailed along your neck and shoulders, and his touch grew bolder, each one drawing soft, involuntary moans from you.
Your hands found his shoulders as you arched into him, your breaths mingling as you lost yourself in the intensity between you. He moved slowly at first, unhurried, each motion deliberate, giving you time to adjust, to feel every moment as his hold on you tightened. When you whispered, barely louder than a breath, asking him to “go deeper”, his control wavered, and a new depth of intensity overtook him. His grip on you tightened as his movements deepened, and his eyes darkened with a desire that matched your own.
Soft praises slipped from him in between breaths, the words laced with emotion as he murmured, “You feel incredible, don’t want this to end.” You didn’t want it to end either. His voice wove through the moment, filling every space with warmth and reassurance, grounding you as much as it set your heart racing. Each whispered word made you feel seen, safe, protected, and deeply wanted.
The world seemed to fall away as he held you, every touch, every kiss echoing the intensity of his words. In that shared silence, it was clear, this wasn’t just a fleeting moment. Rafe had wanted this, wanted you, and now, with you in his arms, he was finally where he wanted to be.
He held you tightly, his voice a soothing murmur against your skin as he encouraged, “Cum baby, I know you want to, don’t worry, I’ve got you.” As you surrendered, a wave of warmth and release washed over you, his name slipping from your lips in soft, whispers. He continued to hold you close, his movements slowing as he whispered gentle praises, his touch filled with tenderness you didn’t know Rafe Cameron had within him.
As he watched you catch your breath, his gaze softened, pride flickering in his expression as he murmured, “You took me so well, love.” Even though he could see the tiredness in your eyes, the spark in his hadn’t dimmed. With a gentle shift, he turned you onto your stomach, drawing your ass up to him. His hand found yours, fingers lacing together, as he moved again, each touch and whisper reassuring you that he wasn’t done cherishing you yet.
Rafe’s hands settled firmly around your waist, pulling your ass flush against him as he fucked you. Holding you close, he thrusted slowly at first, ensuring you felt every sensation, every gentle movement. His words filled the quiet between breaths, “You’re perfect, my good girl,” he murmured. When you let out a soft gasp, he grinned, pressing a kiss against your shoulder. “Look at you,” he said, his voice low. “Completely mine.”
You felt him lean closer, his lips beside your ear as he whispered, “Need you to cum again for me.” His hand drifted to your waist, holding you steady as you lost yourself in the rhythm. When you hesitated, telling him you couldn’t cum again, he tilted chin to the side so you could look back at him, “You can do it. For me.” His words were all the encouragement you needed, and as you gave in, his own quiet groans echoed with yours.
In the final moments, he pulled you back against his chest, his hand finding yours as he intertwined your fingers, grounding you in the moment. And when he softly said, “I’m never letting you go,” you knew it was more than just words, it was a promise.
His voice became a low, possessive whisper against your ear. “I’m going to make sure everyone knows you’re mine,” he murmured, each word sending a thrill through you. “Topper will see, you were always mine.”
His grip on your waist tightened as he guided you, his movements growing more deliberate. With a quiet groan, he leaned down, brushing his lips along your neck as he whispered, “I’m going to make you mine in every way, fill you up and get you fucking pregnant, make sure everyone knows who you belong to.”
You felt your breath hitch, your heart pounding as his words echoed in your mind. “Rafe,” you gasped and he met your gaze, his expression both tender and fierce.
With a quiet laugh, he pressed you down gently, his hands warm and steady as he continued, “Shhh, just take my cum, take my babies deep inside your pussy.” His words were intoxicating and his own breaths grew heavier as he moved closer. And in that moment, he promised, “You’re my future and that baby that’s gonna grow inside you will be too.”
His thrusts grew more frantic as he was determined to make sure your pussy swallowed every drop of his warm cum. You moaned each other’s name as you felt him fill you up, halting as he was deep inside you, making sure all the ropes of his cum went nowhere else. “Taking my cum so well baby, you’re gonna be so fucking sexy pregnant, you’re mine now, all mine.”
You hummed in content as he fell beside you and pulled you close. He quickly slipped out of bed bringing a damp towel as he cleaned your body and you reached out just wanting him to hold you.
“Thank you Rafe,” you whispered finally breaking the comfortable silence.
His voice softened, his hand resting on your cheek as he brushed a thumb gently along your skin. “You don’t have to thank me,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours with a tender intensity. “You’re mine now, and you’re going to be mine forever.” He wrapped you closer, holding you as if he never wanted to let go. “With our baby growing inside you, I’ll take care of you like you deserve.”
His gaze didn’t falter, full of a love he could hardly keep hidden now, and you felt yourself relax into his embrace, feeling safe and cared for. His words wrapped around you like a promise, his lips brushing softly against your forehead as he held you. There was something so certain in the way he looked at you, and in that moment, nothing else seemed to matter.
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robboyblunder · 1 month ago
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As promised I went ahead and continued my "ghoul guide" with a part 2 (part one linked in replies)! This one covers stuff specifically with a made up lore guide of in-world ghoul stuff as if they were a sort of unique magic entity.
This one wound up way longer and had to be split so expect a third final one eventually lmao. for now though... I'm gonna take a break and yell. Bonus extra info plus the transcript under the cut!
ID in ALT text!
Bonus note: While not portrayed in the guide, it’s important to know a detail about ghouls’ origin called “memory echoes”. While ghouls are formed from humans past who lose all memory of their previous self while maintaining an assumed personality from before, at times certain instances of events, actions, items, and otherwise can trigger these “echoes”. Echoes are very rare, but a valued treasure to ghouls; they make them feel more connected to their past and more “human”. Upon triggering an echo, a ghoul will become completely listless, unable to respond or react until the echo has completed, usually within seconds.
“Memory echoes” are described as blurry faded memories that often show featureless shapes and colors, but a very strong “feeling” of a Deja-vu of the moment. They feel viscerally real and can have a mix of the senses i.e. touch and smell, but produce no recognizable faces or imagery of the self. No ghoul has ever reported fully remembering one, nor any semblance of their true past beyond the haunting leftovers.
Begin Transcript:
A Compendium of Hell’s Derivates
While there are many theories on the demonic nature of ghouls,
The true source is surprisingly Human.
Souls cannot be recreated; rather, they’re Recycled and Reborn
The cycle of ghoul creation started for unknown reasons…
But one thing is Certain:
Natural forces do not change easily.
Raw elements collide with the fuel of life itself until one connects
by His command
A violent injection of pure elemental magic
Rewrites and erases all memory and one’s past, drastically altering the soul…
These new powers lend to the powerful allies of the ministry,
However….
… new powers are a dangerous toy.
While coined as “Feral”, new ghouls would better be designated “Raw”, “Unbound”, and “Lawlessly Dangerous”
First formed, they are still elements;
Torrential, Aimless,
Incapable of coherent thought or rules
-but with time, coherence returns to the individual
Who grows much like a life cycle’s stages without necessarily aging.
The overall cycle is the same per ghoul, yet varied enough each rises differently…
First form: “Raw” – Second form (1): “Feral” – Second form (2) – Third form: “Stabilized”
Catalyst, violent, poor formation – Unaware, wild, chaotic – Conscious; can act like oneself; less raw – fully formed and recognizable
The first form, “Raw”, is notably so violent the devil himself does not release them until stage two.
The second form in stage one of a “Feral” ghoul is much like the forces of nature; free willed and wild, understanding minimal speech.
Take caution: they can be mischievous and cause decent damage.
In the second stage of a “Feral” ghoul, they behave like typical people; however, they’re still very free and may choose to never fully stabilize.
Note: you can tell they’ve reached this stage by presence of a tail and civil habits.
If desired, a ghoul reaches the final form: “Stabilized”. They’re transformed into a stable humanoid body, a form less powerful but safer.
Note: Talented ghouls can change form at will in this stage between secondary Feral and Stable.
When it comes to location, each form is most likely to be found:
Raw: Hell, contained
Feral (Stage 1): wilds/natural areas
Feral (Stage 2): wilds and civil areas
Stabilized: anywhere people go
Seeing feral ghouls is not uncommon, and can even be considered lucky!
They tend to provide free protection to keep their home
Ghouls can only stabilize via ministry ritual;
One can assume they’re ministry members if stable, even off duty.
Ghouls are uncommon, but found most places if looked for;
This seems especially true near ministry placements.
Ghouls only form from adults and don’t “age” traditionally, yet they’re still mortal
Deceased ghouls do not seem to return or recycle.
Summoning intentionally pulls only second stage feral ghouls or stable ghouls from anywhere,
They don’t always like this however (see other guide).
The cycle of ghouls serves a main purpose – as forces for the Dark One, in return for rebirth
However, there are two channels through which they serve.
1) Natural defense against corrupted holy magic
Non-stable ghouls defend at will naturally where they live
2) training to fight, protect, and uphold the ministry’s efforts in the name of the Devil.
Contrary to belief, summonings cannot grab from “nothing”;
Like the creation of a ghoul,
Their element, once developed, is what becomes pulled by nature
The force of such pull is incredible,
A disorientating test of will so great…
…it can render even the most sound minds rather violent.
This is why while some choose to stabilize, others may not;
But should a mind change, they can be freed or re-summoned.
Alternative to wild summoning, one can summon from trained ghouls over feral;
Many ghouls are trained for ministry positions all over, but any can be summoned if unassigned.
Though stabilized, unassigned ghouls are not contractually bound to anyone until assigned.
They’re great for extra work hands and being able to know what kind of team mates you’ll get without leaving it to chance.
Summoning any ghoul however reverts them to feral form, and the challenge to tame them remains the same.
Just because you know a ghoul does not mean an easy summon.
Finally, be warned: forcing unwanted breaking or upholding of a summoning contract
Will have dire consequences.
Aside from rarity of an element, there are “power classes” within each element.
Tiers:
Rarity of an element does not equal strength.
The break down is as follows:
Rare – extreme and dangerous power. These ghouls earn a specialized title.
Quite strong, stand out in their class and very sought after.
Most common tier; average and decent powers that are expectable.
Weak powers, but some uses are applicable.
Uncommon – ghouls who possess little to no powers. Ghouls in this tier may at times suddenly change power tier without warning to any other category.
S-Tier ghouls are quite rare and a sight to behold- truly, they embody nature’s power.
End transcript.
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anantaru · 2 months ago
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⚝ DAY 5 — APHRODISIACS
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kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3
— including. — gepard, luocha, jiaoqiu
— warnings. — fem! reader, aphrodisiacs, dub con, established relationship -> the both of you decide to take them before bed, petnames used: love, baby, sweetheart
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⚝ — GEPARD
gepard sat beside you, his armor long since discarded and positioned on the floor, leaving him in a simple, white shirt that clung to his broad frame— yes, nothing happened yet, however, his cheeks were already flushed from the heat of the room, more or less because of you— or perhaps something else called excitement.
"you’re sure about this?" he looked at you, his entire attention drawn to your lips as his usual command softened by the intimacy of the moment and your body unbearably close to him.
you take his hand and nod, holding up the small bottle of aphrodisiacs you both had decided to take together, "only if you are," there wasn't necessarily a reason as to why you wanted to do this, if anything, the eagerness of what the thick liquid could bring forth was exhilarating.
with a soft sigh, you took the dose, first gepard and then you.
the effect was immediate, deeply engulfing your nervous system like a black hole swallowing you on instant, wrecking havoc— with heat, scorching hot sparks, spreading from your core outward, leaving you breathless.
you’re beginning to feel faint throbs settle under your skin and there's an unknown tingling that quells at the base of your spine— you begin to slightly panic, yet gepard took it upon himself to lead the both of you as he laid down next to you, his rough palms skimming up your hips, squeezing at the skin— strong, defined arms wrapped around you until your back was pressed tight against him.
his growing bulge nudges against your naked folds, but it only choses to make your want for your boyfriend burn hotter as he inserts himself slowly, you walls squeezing at the thick muscle when he gasps out, whimpering when he rests his heavy palm on your hip so he can feel the fever from your boiling skin.
this position was not only his favorite, but in this scenario it felt the absolute safest— you trusted gepard the most, knew he would put everything into consideration for it to feel good for you.
"i've never wanted anything so badly," you whine, breathing ragged as you begin to grind back at him. he slides his fingers towards your clit before spreading your liquids lewdly as everything around you turned dangerously intoxicating, dazed and like you lost absolute control of your cunt moulding and pushing him farther in.
gepard’s eyes darkened as he leaned into your shoulder and smirks, then grunts when your pussy milked him fiercely, forcing you to feel every little detail of his cock, heavy throbs, his thick load already splattering inside your thrumming spots, "i didn’t expect it to feel like this…"
he adds, "this ugh, good, fuck," the sensation was overwhelming, the world outside fading away as his hands roamed over your skin, each touch igniting something deeper— you feel dazed, yes, your movements lead by the purity of desire as his first actual, rough thrust of hips rewired the entirety of your brain, your lips parting to moan as your fingers twist into the pillows below you.
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⚝ — LUOCHA
you felt electric, a quiet tension lingering between you as you messily made out with luocha, tongue's colliding as his golden eyes glimmer with intrigue, his usual mysterious demeanor giving a clear path-way to something more primal, more otherworldly.
it's been a couple of minutes after you've taken the aphrodisiac and fuck— it's surely working, you're sweating all over, hair a mess, your nipples erected and swollen— not only that but the way luocha dragged his cock out of you was slow, teasing, wet after he's given you a couple seconds to get used to the thickness of him, which only felt much bulgier due to the aphrodisiac doing its magic.
you cry out his name, your skin shaking and pussy so desperately in need to be touched more at the constant draw backs of his hips rocking you apart, like each thrust of his dripping dick lasted forever and ever, your cunt clasping around and making you melt into his flesh with every raw drag.
his hands were on your waist, your legs on his shoulders, and well, luocha wasn't cruel— no, but those positions felt the best, you were the tightest when he squeezed you together like a cute, little toy, finding you absolutely ravishing with your spasming cunt holding him in.
"my love, you look… breathtaking, like this," there's a carnal hint in his tone as he grunts, his voice rough and blurry, "so fucking tight, hah, i can barely move."
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⚝ — JIAOQIU
"it seems the effect is… potent," jiaoqiu laughs into your skin, cheeks pinched up with champagne pink and his lips brushed against your neck with you slowly wrapping your palm around his length, stroking him, pressing him tight against your slick folds with every wet connection of his shaft.
the man jolts when you're teasing him with your entrance, he trembles when he curls over you deeper— his heavy weight automatically pressing his cock against your hole as he laps along your throat towards your jaw, "t-that feels nice, so much more intense," jiaoqiu pants, his fingers twitching in the flesh of your body.
his name fell from your lips like a plea, and his response was immediate— his grip tightening, it's just a little motion, yes, back and forth, back and forth, only inserting his tip and pulling out, not even anywhere near the good parts if it wasn't for the aphrodisiac,
it's nice, wet, and your pussy quivers as if he's already all the way in.
"i want you, baby, now," you babble against his lips, the repeated touch of his cock making goosebumps appear along the slopes of your body as you sigh out his name again, "you have me, sweetheart, you have me right there,"
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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amanda-multifandom · 9 months ago
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Set in the When Worlds and Dangers Collide series; focuses on trauma Nightwing experienced.
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doe-earth-n · 5 months ago
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Deathstroke is back and fights the Bat Family and Defenders and Nightwing gets confronted with his inner demons.
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raekensluver · 2 months ago
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ᴅᴀʏ 𝟶𝟸 — ᴇxʜɪʙɪᴛɪᴏɴɪsᴍ
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october 3rd | theodore nott x fem!reader
contains: nsfw 18+, no use of y/n, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, exhibitionism, degradation, name calling (whore/slut), porn without plot.
word count: 800+
kinktober masterlist | main masterlist
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your legs quivered as theo positioned himself behind you, his cock sliding back into your cunt with a wet, satisfying sound that seemed to echo through the quiet mansion. "you like it like this, don't you?" theo murmured, his voice low and gravelly. "spread out for me like a fucking feast."
his words sent a thrill down your spine. the thought of someone walking by, catching a glimpse of your entwined bodies, was both terrifying and exhilarating. "what if someone sees us?" you panted, your voice barely a whisper.
"let them," he responded with a low chuckle, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "let them see how much you're mine."
his hands moved to wrap around your wrists, gently but firmly pulling them behind your back and pinning them there. the sudden restraint made your breath hitch, your eyes widening in surprise as you felt your body become even more exposed to the outside world. but instead of fear, you felt a thrilling sense of danger and excitement. theo's hips surged forward, filling you completely, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan.
his rhythm grew faster, his strokes deeper, each one hitting that perfect spot that made your toes curl. the coolness of the glass against your skin was a stark contrast to the heat of his body, making you feel alive in a way you never had before. your eyes squeezed shut as the sensations grew too intense, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps.
his grip tightened on your wrists, the sound of skin slapping against skin becoming louder with each thrust. you could feel his muscles tensing, his body coiled like a spring ready to unleash its climax. the floorboards of the house squeaked as theo fucked into you in a steady, demanding rhythm that seemed to shake the very foundations of the mansion.
"look at you," he growled, his voice a dark caress that sent shivers down your spine. "so fucking eager for anyone to see you like this. such a little slut, taking it all for me." his words were like a match thrown into a pool of gasoline, igniting a fire within you that you didn't know could burn so brightly. you pushed back against him, urging him to go harder, faster, the thrill of his dirty talk spurring you on.
his breath was ragged in your ear, his tongue tracing the shell of it as he whispered, "you love being watched, don't you? you want them to see how much of a whore you are for me." the word 'whore' sent a bolt of electricity straight to your clit, making your pussy clench around him. you could feel yourself getting wetter, the slickness of your arousal making it easier for him to slide in and out.
you nodded, unable to form words, the admission spilling out of you in a silent scream. theo chuckled again, the vibration of it resonating through your body. "good girl," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "now, come for me. come on, let go."
his hips hammered into you, the sound of your bodies colliding filling the room. the anticipation was almost too much to bear, the pressure in your core coiling tighter and tighter. and then, with a final, powerful thrust, it snapped. your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, drowning out the world around you. your pussy spasmed around his cock, begging for more as you felt your juices dribble down your thighs.
theo's grip on your wrists tightened even further, his knuckles turning white as he held you in place. "that's it," he groaned, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own climax. "just like that, baby. you're so fucking beautiful when you come."
you couldn't help but whimper, the sound muffled by the glass as another wave of pleasure rolled through you. his cock felt like it was hitting a spot deep within you that no one else had ever reached, and you felt yourself getting lost in the sensation. your eyes squeezed shut even tighter, your body trembling with the force of your release.
theo's strokes grew erratic, his breaths coming in harsh, staccato bursts. "fuck," he hissed, his movements becoming more frantic. you could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles strained and tightened. "i'm going to cum," he warned, his voice barely above a whisper.
you nodded, your own breathing ragged and uneven. "cum inside me," you begged, the words slipping from your lips in a breathy moan. the idea of him marking you, claiming you in the most intimate way possible, sent a fresh wave of desire crashing through you.
his response was a feral growl, his hips bucking against you as he lost control. with one final, powerful thrust, he filled you with his warmth, his cum spilling into you as he reached his peak. the feeling of him pulsing inside you was almost too much to handle, sending another orgasm ripping through your body. you felt your walls clench around him, milking him for every last drop. as the intensity of your climaxes began to wane, the cold reality of what just happened seeped back in.
kintober taglist: @multi-fandom-imagine, @imamexican, @majaduzejaja, @moony-artemis, @emma-e-a, @agoodgirlsguidetomakingmencry @indigoangel77, @froyofreya, @weirdothatwritess @dale-kobbles-wife
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obxsummer · 30 days ago
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wave of you // ghost of you
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pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader
summary: more treasure hunting continues but your group takes time to enjoy the perfect surf day. it was perfect, that is until topper’s girlfriend becomes unhinged and you find yourself in the middle of an argument with… rafe cameron coming to your defense?
warnings: the usual obx angst, anxiety attacks, mentions of PTSD, cursing, crying. yeah.
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--
Sarah and John B had beat your half of the group back to the house, Kiara having been running the shop in the unexpected absences. After taking a shower to scrub the hospital off of you and changing into the comfiest clothes you could find, you joined everyone in the living area where everyone was sharing their half of the past few hours. 
John B and Sarah had taken the amulet to get an inscription translated into what you found out said Where the living and dead collide, the gatekeeper will guide the way, whatever that meant. They were kicked out shortly after revealing where the object was from, the individual telling them it was cursed. 
“Genrette was obsessed with Blackbeard, so maybe directions to his treasure?” John B theorized as he handed the amulet over to JJ.
“So, what is this treasure?” Cleo continued, “Gold?”
Pope shook his head. “No, I remember hearing something about like a… a crown, blue crown?”
His suggestion was immediately vetoed by Cleo and Kiara, neither girl believing a word he offered. You sighed and leaned back into the cushions of the couch, wrapping the blanket tighter around you as you listened to them bicker. 
“Apparently, it is the most sought out artifact in the ancient world,” John B read off a page of a book he’d grabbed from the shelf. You squinted at the object in his hand, quietly asking yourself when your brother of all people read a book. “The blue crown was created for Darius the Great of Persia over 3,000 years ago.”
“That’s worth more than 50k.”
John B ignored JJ’s comment and continued, “It was said to possess the blessing of the gods themselves, granting the wearer immense favor and rare invincibility. Holy shit, look at this. Xerxes, the son of Darius the Great, he was a badass. He’s wearing it. Uh, Alexander the Great, beat the shit out of everybody. He’s wearing it. Julius Caesar, also a badass, murdered a bunch of people.”
“Dad told you all of this?” You asked him as he read the names off the pages. Pushing yourself to your feet, you moved to stand behind JJ and rested your chin on his shoulder as you looked over at what they were reading. He moved you into his side, thumb brushing your hip bone as he tugged you close.
John B shook his head at your question, glancing up at you. “No, no. I don’t remember any of this, I just know it granted wishes.”
“Like a genie?”
“Hold on, it says right here the crown was lost sometime in the 1700s, but it was rumored to be hunted down by… Blackbeard.”
There was no argument that the direction of the treasure hunt had been changed when it came to a priceless item versus 50k. The whole night shifted, turning into a bonfire and celebration between the group that brought everyone’s spirits back up.
“Oh, come on!” You complained as Pope smacked your burnt marshmallow from his face, sending the treat into the grass a few feet away. “Pope, that was my fuckin’ marshmallow!”
“I’ll make you a different one! The burnt ones are ass!”
You groaned in response and fake pouted before shaking the can of beer in your hand to find it empty. The six of you had been out here since sundown, embracing the thrill of the evening and what lay ahead. Despite hating the danger your group always seemed to head into, you missed this feeling of nostalgia and anticipation. 
JJ’s hands grabbed your hips as you got up from your folding chair, bumping into him as you did so. You covered his hand in the one that didn’t have an empty can and smiled at him. “My knight in shining armor.”
“At your service, baby,” He replied instantly, trading your empty can for the fresh one he had next to him. Once it was securely in your hand, he tugged on your waist until you fell into his lap, a squeal escaping your lips before the two of you lost balance with the momentum and tumbled backward into the grass. 
You screamed in shock, your beer flying away in the chaos as you rolled off JJ who was high off his ass and giggling loudly at the fall. You couldn’t stop the laughter escaping your lips and dropped into the grass completely, overwhelmed with happiness for the first time in what felt like forever. “You dumbass!” 
“C’mere!” 
Another yelp escaped you as JJ swooped you off the lawn and over his shoulder, hauling your ass toward the house with no explanation. 
“Oh come on!” John B groaned and covered his eyes with his hand as JJ carried you out of view, various whistles from the ground following. “Fuckin’ hate you, JJ!”
JJ flipped your brother off with his free hand and walked into the house, closing the door with his shoe before he gently placed your feet on the ground. You grinned up at him, your hands wrapping around his neck to pull him impossibly closer. 
“Did you need something?” You teased and faked innocence as you fluttered your eyelashes to drive the effect home.
JJ tsked his tongue, his fingers cupping your neck before he kissed you roughly, moaning at the way your body fell into him without hesitation. You knew he wasn’t going to hold back very long and there was a 100% chance your friends could walk in at any moment.
“Upstairs,” You rushed out as his lips dropped to your neck, nipping softly at your skin to make your knees even weaker. “Jay.”
“Yeah, yeah,” He mumbled, his kisses stopping long enough for him to crouch and loop his arms around your ass and waist and pick you up, your ankles crossing behind his back, supported by his strong grip. “Lemme love on you.”
You hummed, kissing him again and biting gently on his bottom lip in response to his request. “You can love on me as much as you went when it’s not somewhere John B can see it.”
JJ groaned and shook his head. “Please stop bringing up your brother when we’re making out.”
You laughed loudly as he started walking up the stairs to your room, his kisses lingering on your collarbone and his grip tight as he did. The lack of light was welcomed as you landed on the bed with a laugh, barely having a second to pull your shirt off and drop your shoes before JJ was hovering over you with a hungry desire in his eyes and a whole night to make you his, again and again, just as he intended to.
--
The next morning was a haze of blissful kisses and a warm shower between you and JJ, the house still silent as everyone slept. Your boyfriend wrapped you in a soft towel, pressing a kiss to your forehead before telling you he was going to check on the shack. It hadn’t taken more than a few minutes before he was running through the house, waking everyone up and telling them about the swell.
The warm sunlight was shining through the window as you slipped on a swimsuit for the day, taking the time to brush your skin with sunscreen and grabbing one of John B’s lightweight shirts to slip on over your shoulders. The boys were already down prepping the boards with Kiara as you and Sarah took the time to make breakfast for everyone, knowing food would easily be forgotten in the excitement of the day.
“Oh come on, don’t tell me you guys are seriously surfing today?” Pope walked across the screened-in porch while shoving his backpack on his shoulders.
You frowned at the sight of him in everyday clothes and not swimwear, “And you aren’t?”
Ever since you were little, you’d spent every surf day with the boys and Kiara. It was like the second the news of a perfect swell hit town, all bets were off and the beach was calling your name. Pope was usually the one to drag you out of bed for it, so to see him walking away was a surprise.
“Well, I don’t want to sell the million dollars I have in my hand for 50k so, I’m gonna look into this.” He held up the amulet for emphasis.
JJ looked just as confused as you did. “Wait, Pope. Didn’t you hear me? It’s a perfect swell day.”
“Yeah, and there will be other swell days.”
Low whistles and ‘ooohs’ followed his statement, the group collectively disagreeing with his mindset. John B turned to Sarah from his spot where he was waxing your board. “You wanna maximize beach day?”
Sarah pursed her lips. “I wanna maximize this tan.”
You bit into your toast and pushed at her with your toes. “Sarah Cameron, I know you used to be a Kook but you’ll learn how to surf the Pogue way today.”
She rolled her eyes in fake annoyance before pushing at your foot, sending you off balance from your stool as you yelped before laughing. 
“Well, everyone have fun maximizing.” 
“Wait!” You called out to Pope as he turned on his heels to leave. “Where’s Cleo? I have to see her on a board. She’s gotta be insane with it.”
Pope shrugged, “She texted me, said she’s looking for bait in The Cut.”
“Lame, tell her we’re closed!” Kie argued back.
JJ continued to try and convince Pope to join you all on the beach, but the boy wasn’t having it, his mind stubborn on exploring more info on the amulet for the day. He informed you all he texted Cleo to meet up before hopping on his bike and disappearing from view. 
You weren’t sure how the boys managed to get all the boards on the Twinkie, or honestly, you didn’t want to know, but the second the sand was in between your toes, you didn’t have a care in the world. Surfing was always one of your favorite pastimes. The sunshine, the water, and the feeling of landing a good wave were so rewarding. 
John B had managed to find the group an open spot on the beach to set up chairs and the umbrella he almost took JJ’s eye out with. You took off in the sand and dove headfirst into the water, relishing in the refresh it gave you as the water crossed over. It had been so long since you had nothing to do besides lay in the salty water.
The peace didn’t last long, of course. Topper and his rowdy group pulled up in their newer vehicles, purposely parking close to your group as if it would make a point. You rolled your eyes at the sight of them, knowing this wouldn’t end well because it just never really did. 
JJ met you in the water with both of your boards in hand, but your focus wasn’t on him. It was on the group piling out of the cars which happened to include Rafe Cameron.  
“I won’t let anything happen,” JJ attempted to reassure you as he stopped to kiss your temple, sliding your board into your hands. You gave him a weak nod but didn’t move your gaze as you watched Topper move closer to your setup where he intercepted John B. 
Your hands moved to give JJ the board back as you walked out of the water to approach the two boys. You didn’t need John B doing anything irrational, especially if Topper pushed his buttons the way he normally did.
“Nice of you to join the party,” Topper acknowledged as you came to stand next to your brother with crossed arms. 
“Top.” You nodded in his direction, not backing down in your defensive approach.
Topper motioned toward John B, “I was just hashing things out, you know. Friendly banter to get things even.”
“Do you really think it’s even, Topper?” You asked him as the list began to run through your head. Every time you guys got the slight upper hand, the Kooks took you down two pegs.
Topper pursed his lips and looked away from you. “Uh, let’s go down the list. You guys sunk my boat.”
“Allegedly.”
“Then you cold-cocked me and put me in the ER, remember?” He looked at John B pointedly like it was the worst thing ever.
“You beat the shit out of Pope,” You reminded him. “Or, how about pushing John B off a two-story building, hmm?”
Topper rolled his eyes and pointed behind John B. “Look, I was with her first, bro. If your girl comes to me, if she can’t resist….” 
“Real mature of you, Topper. Oh, by the way, thanks for burning our house down,” John B replied, his fingers twitching to throw the first punch, but he wouldn’t with you standing next to him.
You sneered at Topper’s attitude and stepped forward to block John B in case the emotions got the best of either boy. “Just here to surf, Top. Unless you had more to say?”
Topper’s eyes glanced behind you before he cleared his throat and refocused with no further argument. “No, no. Just here to surf.”
You hummed in agreement as he turned to walk away, mumbling something about having a good chat. Waiting until he was far enough on his side, you shifted back around to see JJ standing a few feet behind you, glare sharp enough to kill the Kook. No wonder Topper about shit his pants.
“C’mon.” John B grabbed your hand, tugging you away from the scene. You didn’t miss the way Rafe stared at you the entire time despite the new brunette he seemed to have attached to his hip. It took one glance to know she wasn’t a Kook, especially with the obvious discomfort she held around the group. 
Pushing their presence to the back of your mind, you allowed John B and JJ to tug you out into the warm sea, Kiara and Sarah following behind the three of you as the waves started to kick up. It became a routine of swapping waves, dropping in amongst your friends’ cheers and applause. Even Sarah managed to grab a couple and remain on her feet for the course into shore, which had all of you celebrating.
Hours passed between the sun and waves before you flopped on a towel and treated yourself to a midday nap. Sarah had the right idea when she said she would maximize her tan, the warm rays lulling you to sleep before you knew it.
JJ pulled himself out of the water, brushing as much from his hair as possible so he didn’t look like a wet dog. He didn’t feel half bad dropping in on a wave that Topper supposedly thought he could claim. JJ laughed to himself; the damn Kook should know better than to try to out-surf a Pogue. 
His eyes caught sight of you sound asleep and cuddled up on the oversized towel you insisted on grabbing for yourself at the thrift store. It was rare nowadays for you to sleep without someone by your side, especially at night. There were too many times when you’d crash on the hammock before the group came in and you woke someone up with a heavy scream. 
In the years JJ had known you, he’d never considered you to be weak or broken. You’d always been an example of strength in his eyes, someone who could persevere even the toughest of challenges. He knew it took a little bit of support now and then, but you were healing, and he was so, so proud of you. You’d shared such vulnerable moments with him, and though he wished he could take the pain away, he knew it was a process. It took him longer than he’d like to admit to share about his dad with you, so he understood the hesitancy you had when it came to unpacking what occurred while John B was gone. 
Usually, when you caught sight of Rafe, you shut down completely. JJ didn’t pry to ask what all happened when you were stuck with him, trusting that in time you would open up and share when you were comfortable. He was grateful that you felt comfortable enough with them around to sleep even though the person who’d taken so much from you was so close by. 
“Guys, there’s a turtle hatch!”
Kiara’s excitement woke you up from the warmth of the sand, your eyes blinking in an attempt to adjust to the sunlight. You shifted to see where she was pointing, noticing the little movements of sand and the dark figures poking out. Pushing yourself to your feet, your friends scurried around to make a path in hopes of guiding the baby turtles safely toward the water.
You quickly tossed John B your towel to drag out the terrain evenly before taking a closer look at the small creatures, wishing you could pick one up but knowing better. “They’re so cute, what the fuck!”
“Make a turtle highway,” Sarah laughed beside you, the two of soaking up the once-in-a-lifetime event as Kie continued to build a path with the boys. Pulling out your phone, you snapped a few photos of the event, including one of Sarah pointing at the little turtles as they cruised by.
The sound of a revving engine pulled your attention away and toward where Topper’s supped-up Jeep was approaching. You frowned at the sight, not sure what his intentions were before you noticed Topper wasn’t even driving, Ruthie was.
“Hey!” Kiara stood up and waved her hands in the air, “Stop! There’s a hatch!”
“Topper, stop!” You yelled next, trying to point around the current path of the turtles who were moving as fast as their little bodies could take them. “Move!”
There was barely enough time for JJ and Kiara to throw themselves out of the way of the oncoming Jeep, thankfully missing the turtles and the near-death of the duo. You could hear Ruthie’s obnoxious laugh behind you as you faced the Kook group who apparently, found attempted murder funny.
“Hey!” You were shouting before you had a chance to think it through, feet stomping through the sand to carry you closer to where Kelce and his friends found it hysterical. “What the hell is wrong with you people?”
Kelce continued to laugh as Topper’s Jeep revved once more, coming to a stop next to you. “Maybe next time don’t drop in on our surf,” Kelce’s voice dropped deeper as he approached you, gaze darkening when he was eye to eye with you.
“Fuck you, Kelce. Whatever ego you all have that you think entitles you to run over baby turtles is sick,” You spat, pushing against his chest causing his friends to ‘ooh’ at your action. Not only did they almost ruin the hatch, but Kie and JJ were inches from getting run over because of their stupidity.
“Turtles?” A voice next to you stopped you from spitting another nasty curse at the group now that Topper and Ruthie had rejoined. You looked over to see the brunette girl looking back at you, her gaze familiar before you caught Rafe watching over her shoulder. “There were turtles?”
The heartbreak in her voice surprised you. You figured anyone following Rafe around would have the same cruel attitude he did, but the empathy you weren’t expecting. 
“Go back to The Cut,” Ruthie interrupted whatever explanation you were considering giving. 
You turned to glare at her, closing the distance between the two of you as you poked at her chest. “You have five seconds before JJ gets over here and loses his shit on all of you, so, I’d watch your words, Ruthie, before they bite you in the ass. You’re a pathetic excuse for a human, and I hope you’re fucking ashamed of your actions.”
The group clearly hadn’t expected you, of all people, to come mouth off about their actions. Silence filled the group, the girl in front of you at a loss of words that someone actually dared put her in her place. 
“Look, we didn’t mean to-“
“Shut the fuck up, Topper!” You snapped at him, sick of his attempts to appear innocent despite all the damage he caused. “What happened to just here to surf, huh? Or is attempted murder always in the back of your mind?”
“Hey watch it-“
“Fucking leave, Pogue!”
“Get the hell out of here!”
“Hey, hey! Enough!” It was Rafe who put himself between you and Ruthie’s incoming hands. You didn’t know whether to be grateful or terrified and took a step back, feet stumbling as you did so. You stared at him, horrified as his gaze met yours and stole all the air from your lungs. 
“Bitch can barely look him in the eye,” Ruthie laughed behind Rafe, but you made no move to correct her, terrified that even a breath in the wrong way would end your life. Rafe Cameron, of all people, to be the one to stop someone from harming you was a sick joke.
“Rafe?” The brunette girl next to him grabbed his arm, her eyes taking in your terrified expression. It was then that you recognized her. Sofia, the girl who you’d unfortunately come to know too well in the therapy sessions John B had forced you to attempt. The two of you had shared so much with each other but never once had you run into her since you stopped going months ago. She seemed to process who you were then too, a silent conversation running through her head as she mouthed your name. 
At that moment, someone ran up behind you, hands landing on your hips before you were moved into another set of arms. You caught sight of JJ stepping closer to Rafe, likely starting an argument that you could only hope didn’t end with a fight. 
“You’re okay, I’ve got ya.” John B turned you around to redirect your gaze, his arm wrapping around your shoulder as he started walking back toward the Twinkie. Everything turned to a haze, the adrenaline wearing off enough that you were heading into the inevitable anxiety attack. 
“If you come near her, or any one of us, ever again, I’ll come back and kill every single one of you.” JJ’s threat wasn’t a light one, and you were certain it would come back to bite him in the ass considering the Kooks would take it and run with it. 
Your heart was beating rapidly in your ears as John B pushed you into the passenger seat of the Twinkie, his hands grabbing both of your cheeks as you closed your eyes and tried to focus on your breath. Sarah’s grip on your hand was light as she climbed in the driver’s seat to sit on your other side. 
“What the hell was that?” Kiara’s shout echoed through the van, ringing in your ears and causing you to squeeze your eyes closed even harder. “What did you say to them?”
“Kie, shut up!” Sarah was yelling back at her, their voices blending together as you tucked your knees to your chest and curled into a ball. The shakiness was setting in and all you could do was beg your body to calm down and catch up to your actions.  
You forced your eyes to open, blinking as you managed to catch Sofia’s gaze across the sand. How you didn’t put the pieces together that’s who she was, you weren’t sure, but a pit grew in your stomach when you realized you’d spilled so much in those sessions that she was present for. Most, if not all of it, about Rafe. 
Air choked in your lungs, and aggressive coughs followed before JJ’s hand was against your chest to keep you upright. His fingers were gently against your jawline as he kept your head up in an attempt to help you breathe correctly.
“You’re alright, baby. Just keep breathing, yeah?”
John B had left your vision, same with Sarah, leaving you face to face with your boyfriend. He climbed over you to sit in the seat Sarah had once occupied and pulled your legs out to rest over his. The desire to curl up and cramp your muscles happened more than often and he’d picked up on that after a few anxiety attacks, recognizing your patterns and habits. 
JJ forced his hands in yours, keeping your fingers from stabbing your palms as you fought to take deep breaths, your body still on high alert even though your mind was coming back down. 
“There you go, good girl,” His encouragement made you smile slightly, knowing he was messing with you on purpose. Moving forward, you puddled into his lap without a word, and he welcomed you with open arms. Physical contact helped more in the recent moments, something you never expected considering you used to be so fearful of someone’s touch. 
JJ shuffled with you in his grasp, tugging the door closed to prevent unwelcome eyes from seeing you in such a vulnerable moment. John B was climbing in the driver seat shortly after, Sarah joining in the back before all doors were closed. Your breathing was slowing, muscles finding the forgiveness to loosen up on you but refused to move from JJ’s lap until your head was back in one piece.
“Kie?” You mumbled into his shoulder. The girl was clearly upset with you, but you didn’t have the capacity to question why.
“Walking,” John B replied simply as he started the old van. “Needs to clear her fuckin’ head.”
Sarah shushed him and you could hear her hand connect with his body gently, a grumbled protest coming from your brother in response. A comfortable silence filled the vehicle as John B drove away from the beach and started his course back home.
--
Exhaustion had set in on the drive, your body heavy in JJ’s hold as you listened to the occupants other than yourself share small chatter. Words weren’t enough to describe how grateful you were to your friends and brother for always supporting you no matter what. You knew it was a handful, hell, it wasn’t easy yourself, but the fact that they showed up time and time again said everything.
“Sorry about everything,” You apologized as John B parked the van in front of the house, ending your adventure for the day. “I’m trying to fix it and it just-”
“Hey,” Sarah interrupted your explanation as she popped her head over the seat. “No apologies. We’ve talked about that. Don’t apologize, ever.”
She left no room for argument and opened the back door to slide out. You looked at JJ and John B, both boys shrugged in agreement with her, making you roll your eyes. 
“Maybe we could rethink therapy?” John B suggested as he watched you rub your face to rid yourself of tear marks. You shook your head, giving no verbal answer.
Therapy had been shit for you. When you first came back from El Dorado, the hospital had taken one look at you, post-gunshot stitches, and deemed you unsound. You went with it for a while, going to the group sessions and spilling stories without any names. Then you realized how cruel people were when they started comparing trauma and you never went back again.
JJ’s grip loosened so you could climb out of the van, arm slinging over your shoulder to keep you close as he followed you. Sarah joined your side, pulling your hand in hers to swing back and forth as the four of you started heading toward the house where Pope had come out the side door.
“Yo!” JJ called in greeting. “What’d you find?”
Silence followed the question, shifting your attention to Pope instead of the ground. The shock on his face was evident and your gaze immediately dropped to the dark red smears on his shirt and hands. 
“Oh, shit.” Sarah was turning you into her instantly, both JJ and John B getting closer to Pope with an onslaught of questions. You kept your eyes on her, squeezing her hand tightly in attempt to keep your mind from getting involved.
“What happened?”
“Where’s Cleo?”
“She’s inside.” It was the only answer Pope had to give, and it sent JJ inside scrambling for the girl in question, fearing what he would find. John B grabbed ahold of Pope, steering him back to the house without any further questions before Sarah started to guide you along with the fresh blood out of view. 
Sarah looked at you expectantly as you made your way through the door into whatever chaos you’d subjected yourself to. The girl next to you stopped short and shifted your path into the kitchen, rerouting you from whatever she’d caught sight of before you could. JJ was already in there, pushing a water into your hand and lifting you onto the kitchen counter without another word.
To your relief, Cleo moved in shortly after, her expression stoic and unreadable before Sarah left your side and you could barely hear Kiara’s voice joining whatever conversation was happening a room over.
JJ placed his hands on each side of your body before kissing you softly, pulling your mind to him and only him. You hummed quietly, fingers tangling in his hair for a moment before he shifted away.
“Can you tell me?” You asked quietly, not wanted to push too far if Cleo was clearly so upset. 
He glanced at the girl behind you before answering, “Terrance’s body is in the other room.” 
JJ watched you as you processed the information, a million questions running through your mind that you couldn’t bring yourself to ask. Apparently, there was no time to, as JJ’s eyes caught on to something out the window behind you. A quick glance over your shoulder revealed the all too familiar Kildare County Sheriff’s Office truck, and your heart sank to your ass.
“J-“
“Upstairs,” He replied with no room for disagreement. “Our room or balcony, kay? I’ll send Sarah.”
You nodded, doing what he said without another question and bolted up the stairs with your heart pounding in your chest. Sarah’s footsteps were behind you moments later, the two of you finding sanctuary on the balcony outside your shared room with JJ. 
The sun was beginning to set and cast an orange lighting over the two of you as you piled into the hammock. Sarah leaned her head against yours just as another figure joined your group. Cleo fell on top of the two of you with a huff, both you and Sarah wrapping her up tightly into your cuddle puddle. 
And suddenly, all you could hear, was silence.
How the fuck did the cards fall this way every single time?
--
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672 notes · View notes
oddinary4bts · 5 months ago
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Chasing Cars | ch 7 (jjk)
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☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: hangover, curses, alcohol, leg day at the gym, jungkook's reputation, a v dangerous game of spin the bottle, explicit content: jungkook's ass, hickeys, oral sex (female and male receiving), praising, fingering, marking, mouth fucking, hair pulling, spitting, degradation, protected sex,
☆word count: 15k (whoops)
☆a/n: more frustration?? and then not. Enjoy <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3
☆series masterpost
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
Saturday, March 2nd
[08:12 am] bröther👽: call me when ure up
You’ve been ignoring the text since you woke up an hour and a half ago. Pretending that you never received it, pretending that Jimin held his promise and didn’t tell anything to Taehyung. 
It’s a foolish dream – the text is proof enough that Taehyung knows, or at least perhaps suspects something about you and Jungkook. You don’t know what to do, what to think, so you ignore it altogether.
Maybe if you ignore it long enough, it’ll disappear.
Maybe if you ignore it long enough, yesterday won’t have happened. 
Jungkook invades your thoughts, his drunken kiss chasing everything else away. Your blood heats up, your cheeks redden, and your heart is beating faster in your chest as you relive the scene, again and again. 
You’ve been reliving it all night long, the ghost of his soft lips on yours haunting you in your sleep. 
You sigh, rolling on your side, hiding your face in your pillow. You’re aware you should get up, but you can’t bring yourself to, too afraid to run into Jungkook. Though you haven’t heard him move from his room, and you assume he’s fighting against his hangover, or maybe he’s still asleep. Another sigh escapes your lips as you turn on your back, looking up to the ceiling. 
Maybe Jungkook was drunk enough to forget about last night. It’d make things easier - maybe then you won’t have to confront him at all. But you know it’s wishful thinking - he was steady enough to kiss you dumb, so you highly doubt he’ll forget.
Especially if the kiss stole the breath from him like it did to you…
You groan, turning to hide your face in a pillow again. Maybe you should disappear, vanish into shadows until you don’t have to talk to your brother or to Jungkook. Or maybe you should just move to another country and start a new life.
You hate this. You wish it’d be easier, simpler, but of course you had to get involved with your brother’s best friend. It feels like the start of a corny teenage drama, the kind of thing you’d once watched with reverence.
Now you know it to be hell. 
Your phone vibrates a couple of times on the mattress where you left it, multiple text messages coming in at the same time. You raise your head from the pillow, trying to catch a glimpse of the screen, but from this angle you can’t see who texted you. Annoyed, you roll until you can grab your phone, and you look down at the screen, squinting your eyes.
Your eyes widen, and your heart stops beating far too long for it to be normal. And then you gulp, rereading the messages to make sure you aren’t imagining anything.
[10:12 am] bröther👽: plz call soon, got some plans tonight [10:12 am] Nabi: do u want to go shopping this afternoon? [10:12 am] JK: sorry about last night. do we have painkillers?
The texts don’t change. In truth, you don’t mind about Taehyung or Nabi. You just didn’t expect Jungkook to text you, especially not to apologize. It makes you think about the kiss, though differently this time. 
Is he really apologetic? Or does he only believe it to be the right thing to do? You can’t tell. But you still get out of bed, going to the bathroom so that you can retrieve painkillers for him. You make a pit-stop by the kitchen to pour him a glass of water, and then you walk to his bedroom. You stop in front of the door, heart suddenly beating out of your chest. 
This is just Jungkook, you try to remind yourself. Nothing to be worried about. Except that he’s your brother’s best friend, and that you fucked, and that you can’t really get him out of your head now…
You take a deep steadying breath, and then you gently rap your knuckles on the door. You wait for a few seconds, awaiting an answer, but none come. 
“Jungkook?” you let out.
A long groan replies, and you can’t stop the smile that grows on your lips.
“Can I come in?”
Another groan answers, though this time Jungkook eventually says, “Yes.”
So you turn the doorknob, pushing the door open. Jungkook’s room is neater than you’d expected it to be - a few scattered items of clothing lay on the floor, and the dark monitor of his PC setup faces you. You scan the rest of the room, your cheeks turning bright red when you notice Jungkook.
Mostly, you notice Jungkook’s ass, as he’s lying on his belly, naked, over the covers. 
“Put some damn clothes on,” you blurt, looking away from him.
He groans. “Don’t speak so loud, shit.” A few seconds of silence, and then he adds, “Besides, you’ve seen me naked before.”
“You have no shame,” you grumble, but you still step into his room. “I got you painkillers.”
“Why have shame when you’ve got a body like mine?” he teases, raising his head. A boyish smile sports his lips, though he quickly lets his head fall back down, grunting. “Thanks for the painkillers.”
To your relief, he pulls a blanket over him as he turns, hiding the lower half of his body. He sits up, wincing, and you hand the water and the pills to him. He looks at them like they’re foreign, before patting the bed next to him.
“Don’t be shy,” he says, leaning back against his headboard. The one you’ve heard banging in your wall way too many times. “I don’t bite.”
You roll your eyes. “Just take the damn pills.”
He pouts, lower lip jutting out, and you ignore the way it makes your heart race in your chest. He finally grabs the painkillers, and you blush as your fingers brush, electricity jolting through you.
How can he have such an effect on you?
“Thank you,” Jungkook lets out once he’s taken the white pills and downed the water.
You nod. “I’ll let you sleep it off, now.”
“Is my room so not inviting?” he teases as you’re walking out. 
You turn around, leaning against the door frame, arms folded on your chest. “We can’t do this.”
“We can be friends,” he says, features serious as he holds your gaze. Though you struggle to keep your eyes on his - his strong body invites the gaze, and you seek to explore the planes of his body.
He must have noticed it because he breaks into a smirk
“Friends wear clothes around each other,” you reply.
He rolls his eyes, sighing deeply. “Is my body that bad?”
“Do you really need the compliment that bad?”
He wiggles his eyebrows. “So you admit it would be a compliment?”
You shut your eyes in annoyance. “You’re insufferable, Jungkook.”
When your eyes flutter open to that same boyish grin on his lips, you feel yourself folding. You tell him you’ll just get your phone in your room, and then you walk back to his bedroom, hesitantly crossing the threshold. He’s already lying down again, and he’s thankfully pulled the blanket higher over his body.
You sit on the side of his bed, clutching your phone in your hands as if it’s a lifeline. Jungkook’s gaze is heavy on your profile, and you glance at him.
“Don’t worry about yesterday,” you tell him, meeting his gaze.
Big eyes welcome you in, and you feel entranced. You wonder if he feels the same - if your gaze is prison to his eyes as well.
“Are you sure?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.
You shrug. “I kissed you back, didn’t I?”
“You did.” He slowly breaks into a smirk. “You seemed to enjoy it quite a lot.”
“Oh my God,” you let out, making to get up and leave. Jungkook is quick - he grabs your wrist, stopping your motion.
“I’m just teasing you, peach.”
“You can’t tease me like that,” you scold him. “We can’t do that.”
He lets go of your wrist, almost reluctantly. His fingers twitch as they fall on his bed between the two of you. “Sorry,” he apologizes, and you’re surprised at how genuine he sounds.
You nod once. “No worries.”
Eyes locked on his, you both fall silent. You feel like you’re falling forward, like Jungkook really is the sun pulling in the comet that you are. You wonder if he reads everything in your eyes - if he knows that the moment you fucked for the first time, you were gone.
You hate that you are. You feel weak, but how can you resist?
The sound of ringing startles you, cutting through the tension in the room. You look down at your phone in your hands, and your heart drops to your ass at the picture of Taehyung looking back at you.
And maybe you’re hungover too, or perhaps still drunk. Because you don’t think about it - you answer the Facetime call, and you smile a tight-lipped smile as you wait for it to connect.
“Hey loser,” Taehyung greets you when you appear.
The moment his eyes narrow, eyebrows bunching together, you realize your mistake. Somehow, you take it in stride, immediately crafting a lie out of thin air.
Or maybe half a lie.
“Your loser of a best friend got so drunk he needed me to give him painkillers,” you offer as an explanation, and you turn the camera towards Jungkook, who gives a thumbs up, face hidden in his mattress.
“Sounds on brand,” Taehyung replies, features relaxing. “Tough party yesterday?”
“He hosted your friends over here,” you explain, surveying Taehyung through the screen. “He and Jimin got pissed out drunk.”
“Hey, I wasn’t that drunk,” Jungkook interjects, faking offence.
“Shut the fuck up, JK,” Taehyung says, and you really try to read his features. 
Has Jimin told him anything after all?
“What are your plans tonight?” you ask your brother, trying to stir the conversation away from yesterday.
Taehyung smiles. “Date night with this girl,” he says, and he turns the camera towards a pretty girl that you recognize from the Instagram Jungkook showed you. 
“Tae!” she shrieks, and she turns away from the camera.
“She’s shy,” Taehyung says, chuckling. “But we’re going to go eat at a restaurant near the Eiffel Tower.”
“Romantic,” you chime.
His smile grows wider, and you see it in his eyes. You see the light overtaking them, the fond softness that makes him look so young and vulnerable. “Always.” 
There’s a shared silence, interrupted by the shuffling of Jungkook behind you. You look over your shoulder to find him sitting again, and you can’t stop your eyes from dipping down.
You hate that the sheet has slipped. Because you see his semi for half a second before he’s able to hide himself again. If he noticed, Jungkook doesn’t let it show, instead saying into your phone, “Partying without you isn’t the same, bro.”
“We’ll party when you get here,” Taehyung promises. “The French know how to party.”
You stare at Jungkook’s reflection on the screen of your phone, at the smirk that grows on his lips. “Oh, we’ll have catching up to do, I’m sure.”
“Think I can still beat you at beer pong?” Taehyung asks, grinning at his friend.
“Good luck with that,” Jungkook replies. “I’ve been perfecting my form.”
Taehyung bursts out laughing, and Jungkook chuckles behind you. It’s a cute sound - the one he reserves for his close friends. You like the sound, like that he’s comfortable enough around you to let you hear it.
The two friends keep on talking, Jungkook seemingly healed from his hungover as he goes on and on about stuff that happened yesterday. He avoids everything related to you, but he speaks about Lisa, far more than you expected he would. 
So you gulp, listening to him praise the girl, listening to Taehyung asking when he’ll fuck her. It does something ugly to you, and your features fall, though the two men seem to be too focused on their conversation to notice.
Until Jungkook’s gaze dances on your features, and he says, “Sorry, I hi-jacked the conversation.”
You shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”
Yet he slightly furrows his brow, concern seeping into his gaze. It stays for the rest of the conversation, as Taehyung’s girlfriend - Ariane - finally joins in. They look happy, and for a moment, jealousy steals your heart. You’re good at hiding it though, far better than you hide your disappointment from Jungkook speaking about Lisa, and soon enough the conversation reaches its natural end, Ariane and Taehyung needing to head to their reservation.
You tell them goodbye, Jungkook waving at them over your shoulder. The moment the call disconnects, Jungkook says, “You know I don’t care about Lisa.”
You glance at him. “Okay?”
“I’m just trying to make sure he’s not unto us…” he sheepishly adds. “Jimin texted some shit in the group chat last night.”
Your throat goes dry. “He did?”
Jungkook’s tongue darts to toy with his piercings, and he nods once. “Yeah.”
You wait for him to say more, but he only looks at you, features unreadable. “What did he say?” you ask after a few seconds of holding his gaze.
“That you and I are pretty friendly,” he admits. “With a lot of emojis.”
You shut your eyes. “Tae is going to kill me.”
“I wouldn’t be worried about you,” Jungkook reassures you, chuckling lightly. “If he kills someone, I guarantee it will be me.”
“Fuck.”
He nods, then shrugs his shoulders. “It’s not like we can do anything about it.” He holds your gaze for a few more seconds, before glancing outside. “Anyways, I think I’ll head to the gym.”
You tilt your head to the side, a small, disbelieved laugh escaping your mouth. “Aren’t you hungover?”
“Working out helps with headaches,” Jungkook explains. “At least for me.”
Unconvinced, you nod once, and then you get up from where you were sitting on his bed. You cast another glance around his room - your eyes still on a frame with two young boys in Disney World, smiling brightly. You recognize Jungkook in the youngest one, and something about the fact he keeps a picture of him when he was younger on his bedside table is far too endearing.
“You have a brother?” you ask.
His eyes trail to the pictures. “Yeah, Junghyun.”
“I’ve never heard about him before.”
He smiles, winking at you. “You never asked.”
You roll your eyes, though a smile curves your lips upwards as well. “Alright then, I’ll let you go to the gym.”
“Want to come with?” Jungkook asks.
You widen your gaze. “I don’t really go to the gym.”
Jungkook slips out of bed, keeping his sheet around his waist. The muscles on his abdomen move under his skin, and you can’t help but glance down, remembering his semi-erection earlier. You flush entirely red, and Jungkook laughs, clearly knowing where your mind went.
“Never too late to start, peach,” he teases. “I can help you.”
“I’m supposed to go shopping with Nabi this afternoon,” you say, though you haven’t accepted your friend’s invitation yet.
“You don’t need more clothes,” Jungkook says, heading towards a drawer. You watch as he rummages through it, before pulling a pair of black Calvin Klein underwear from it. “You’ve got plenty enough already.”
“And?” you let out. “Girls go shopping for more than clothes, Jungkook.”
He winks at you, before turning his back to you. The sheet drops to the floor, and you immediately look away as he puts his underwear on, facing you again when he’s finally hidden himself from you.
“Please?”
“Please what?” you ask.
“Please come with me?”
There’s a light in his eyes. Something hopeful, vulnerable, and it takes you aback. So much so that you almost take a step back. Your heart goes wild in your chest again, and you hold his gaze.
What would have happened between you and Jeon Jungkook if he wasn’t your brother’s best friend?
“Why do you want me to come?” you ask, sounding a little breathless.
“You’re fun to be around,” Jungkook offers as an explanation, shrugging. “And I prefer working out with people.”
“Can’t you invite Jimin or someone else?”
Jungkook pouts. “Jimin’s hangovers are a lot worse than mine. He won’t want to go out.”
You sigh, holding Jungkook’s gaze as you ponder if you should go or not. If it’s a good idea to spend friendly time with Jungkook after everything that’s happened. But you don’t seem to be able to escape his orbit. Not when his gravity is so strong, his eyes so open.
“Alright,” you say. “But don’t expect me to lift heavy.”
*****
You meet Jungkook in the hall after you’ve both eaten a small breakfast - nothing too heavy before the gym, as Jungkook said. He offers you a friendly smile, and then he looks down your frame, the smile melting into a smirk that makes your blood eat up in your veins.
“You look hot, peach.”
You sigh, rolling your eyes. “You’ve never seen a girl in sports leggings before?” you ask as you make your way to the closet so that you can pull your coat out.
Jungkook is already wearing his, and he watches you as you put your coat on, stuffing your phone in the pocket before zipping it up.
“None that look as good as you,” he flirts.
“Shut up,” you grumble, slightly shaking your head. 
“What! It’s true,” he insists, and you push him towards the door so that he moves away from your boots. 
You put them on, before grabbing a pair of sneakers from the closet as well. Once you straighten, Jungkook grabs the shoes from you, stuffing them in his gym bag as you go to retrieve your purse from where you left it in the kitchen, cursing yourself for not grabbing it before putting your boots on.
You meet Jungkook in the hall again, and he leads you outside, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Careful, it’s pretty icy.”
You nod, and you hold onto the railing of the staircase, following behind Jungkook after you’ve locked the door. You successfully make it to the bottom, and then he guides you to his car. As you climb in the passenger seat, Jungkook throws his gym bag on the backseat, before walking around the car to sit behind the wheel.
As he turns the key in the engine, you pull your phone out of your pocket. You go to Nabi’s conversation, feeling bad that you will have to decline her invitation.
[11:09 am] You: can’t, going to the gym
Jungkook pulls out in the street, and then he’s driving towards his gym, turning the music on. He hums to the radio, seemingly fully at ease. You don’t know how he does it - your heart is racing in your chest at the perspective of going to the gym with him. 
[11:11 am] Nabi: the fuck [11:12 am] Nabi: who are you going with
You debate telling her the truth for the whole ride to the gym, and some more as you walk in. Jungkook hands you your sneakers as you stop in the place where you have to take your boots off, and then he offers to keep your coat and purse in a locker with his stuff. You accept, though you ask to buy a water bottle for yourself first.
“I got you covered, peach,” Jungkook says, flicking your nose. “I brought a reusable one for you.”
“How kind,” you tease, and he grins boyishly before heading into the men’s locker room. 
You wait for him outside, eyes on the conversation with Nabi. You wonder what she would say if she knew - would she tease you about the Incident? Would she freak out like you know Ria would?
You say to hell with it, and you reply to her last text with the truth before turning the screen off, looking up to watch Jungkook as he walks out of the locker room, now clad in athletic shorts and a skintight black t-shirt that leaves little to the imagination. 
“Ready?” Jungkook asks, and he hands you the water bottle he mentioned. 
It’s already full, and you take a small sip before nodding your head. “What do we start with?”
Jungkook smiles softly for a few seconds, and then his features grow conflicted. He looks away from you, his Adam’s apple bobbing once as he swallows. You’d give a lot to know what he’s thinking of right now, though life doesn’t work that way.
And would you be able to handle the truth anyway?
“We warm up with cardio, and then it’s leg day,” he tells you as he motions towards the corner with all the cardio machines. “Let’s see how much you can squat, peach.”
You snort as you follow him. “Are you just trying to get a good look at my ass?”
You’re relieved when he bites, offering you his usual cocky smirk. “So what if I am?”
“You’re disgusting,” you say, though you laugh with him as you reach the treadmills. “By the way,” you let out as you both climb on a treadmill, turning them on. “I’m hosting some friends at the apartment tonight. Hope you don’t mind.”
“Oh are you now?” Jungkook teases. “And you were mad at me for it yesterday?”
You glare at him, right as he helps you with increasing the speed of the treadmill. “I got it,” you say, swatting his hand away. “This is not my first time at the gym.” You pause, adjusting the walking speed and the inclination of the treadmill to your preferred setting, and then you turn to look at Jungkook again. “I wasn’t mad at you for hosting friends, I was mad because you didn’t warn me.”
“To be fair, it wasn’t planned in advance,” Jungkook reveals. “Jimin cornered me at the library while I was finishing my shift with Sera and they looked way too excited. I suggested our place because they’re always the ones hosting us.”
You’re not surprised Jungkook would offer - he’s a good friend to those he cares about. 
“Makes sense,” you let out. “So I’m telling you about tonight in advance, see?”
“It’s tonight,” he says, cocking an eyebrow.
“And?”
“I’d hardly call it in advance.”
You sigh, looking up to the ceiling. “Whatever.”
“Hope your friends don’t mind me around,” Jungkook says after a whole minute of silence.
You shoot him a surprised look. “Don’t you have plans tonight?”
“Yeah, your party.”
“It’s not a party.”
He shrugs. “I’ll be there nonetheless.”
The thought of Jungkook staying when your friends will be there makes you anxious, and you quickly shake your head no. “You can’t.”
He frowns. “Why not? It’s my apartment too.”
“I don’t…” you trail off, thinking of Ria and her obsession with him.
You know her enough to know she’d jump on the occasion to seduce Jungkook. If she knew what happened between the two of you, she wouldn’t approach him at all - but she doesn’t know.
None of them do, except Hoseok, and even then he doesn’t really know.
“I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour,” Jungkook says, winking, and then he increases the speed of his treadmill to a run that doesn’t allow a conversation at the same time.
You follow suit, just so that you can blame the hammering of your heart in your chest on something else than the fear of what is going to happen tonight. You’d hoped Jungkook had something planned - anything, really - but maybe that had been wishful thinking.
Maybe you should have told him well in advance, asking him to clear the apartment tonight. But he’s been nice, if you forget about the fact he kissed you stupid last night. You don’t have it in you to push him away when he’s acting so… nicely. 
And he keeps acting that way all through the gym. Even though you’re not nearly as strong as him, Jungkook encourages you, helps you with every exercise. You do notice him ogling your ass while you’re squatting, but you do the same to him, and he calls it even as you roll your eyes, blushing furiously. 
It’s fun. It always is – spending time with Jungkook, that is. His easy laugh and smile keep the conversation alive, alight, and you don’t notice the time fly when Jungkook guides you to the mats, where he claims you’ll do some planks and then stretch.
You plop down on the mat, legs feeling like jelly, and Jungkook’s giggle fills your ear, warming your chest. You glance at him, catching him as he smiles down at you.
“We went easy,” he teases, sitting next to you. “You’re adorable.”
“You call that easy?” you let out in fake outrage. “I won’t be able to walk for a week.”
“Oh, won’t you now?” 
You roll your eyes at the innuendo in his voice. “Shut up.”
He grins, patting his pockets. As a frown moves on his features, you push yourself up, sitting.
“Is there something wrong?” you ask.
“I think I left my phone at the squat rack,” Jungkook answers. “Wait here, I’ll go see if it’s still there.”
You don’t have time to say anything before he’s jogging away, and you follow him with your gaze as he makes his way to the squat rack you used earlier. He doesn’t find his phone there – he shoots a look in your direction, and then he’s heading to the reception, to likely ask if someone brought his phone there.
You sigh before grabbing your own phone. You’re about to turn it back on when someone clears their throat, and you look up, eyes slightly widened in surprise.
“Hey,” a buff guy says. “You’re with JK?”
It takes you an awkward four seconds before you reply, “Yeah?”
The guy smiles, nodding once. “Thought so. I just wanted to warn you, that guy is a dick.”
“Excuse me?”
You can’t help it – the offence that takes over you at someone insulting Jungkook burns like acid in your mouth, and you frown as you look up at the buff guy. He raises his hands in defence, but you just keep on staring him down.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you.” The guy’s hands fall at his side, clenching into fists once before he releases it. “We used to be friends, until my ex cheated on me with him,” he offers as an explanation. “I’d hate to see him hurt someone else.”
Though you do feel bad for the guy, you’re still offended – does he believe Jungkook is out to hurt you?
Is Jungkook out to hurt you?
“Listen, don’t worry about me,” you eventually say, not wanting to fight with someone that looks like they could kill you with one well-placed punch. “We’re just friends.”
The guy’s features relax, and his smile feels more genuine now. “Good, I’m glad.” He doesn’t move for a few seconds, and then he catches sight of Jungkook jogging back towards you. You meet Jungkook’s gaze at the same time as the guy says, “I’ll leave you two to it, then.”
You don’t say anything, and Jungkook stops next to you, barely winded from jogging around. He drops on the mat next to you, phone in hand.
“What did Colton want with you?” he asks.
You shrug your shoulders. “Nothing, really. He was just wondering if we were together.”
“Together?” Jungkook repeats, teasing tone in employ.
You cock an eyebrow. “Not like that, dumbass.”
He pouts, though he doesn’t say anything else. And when you look at him like this, you can’t believe he’d cheat on one of his friends. He’s always seemed like a good friend – hell, an hour ago you’d thought him to be a good friend to those he cares about. Which means he probably never cared about the guy – Colton.
But isn’t there something ugly in the act of cheating with someone that’s in a relationship? 
“So we’re doing three minutes of planks,” Jungkook tells you. 
“Three?!” you shriek.
He chuckles. “One minute of regular plank, and then one minute on each side.”
“Bruh.”
“You can do it, peach.”
He gets into position, and you reluctantly imitate him, mind still swirling with what he’s done. At the beginning of the semester, you wouldn’t have been surprised by that fact, yet now it feels odd, strange, even a little disturbing. As if for a moment you forgot how much of an arrogant asshole Jungkook can be, as if you forgot the reputation that follows him.
You wouldn’t be surprised if he’s broken up other couples than this Colton and his ex.
If Jungkook notices your unease, he doesn’t mention it. He does his planks like a champ, while you’re shaking for your life next to him, and then he shows you his stretching routine. You copy everything, and then you follow him back to the man’s locker room, waiting outside for him to change back into his clothes. 
Colton goes into the locker room before Jungkook comes out, and he nods to you as he passes in front of you. You offer him a tight-lipped smile, and then watch him disappear at the bend in the hall. Jungkook gets out a couple of minutes later, as you’re turning on your phone again.
At the sight of the frown on his features, and the light red tint on his cheeks, you can only assume that he and Colton had a talk.
“Something wrong?” you ask him.
“No.” His answer is curt, almost cold, and you widen your gaze slightly as he hands you your stuff.
He barely waits for you to put your coat on before he’s walking to where you can grab your boots, and you awkwardly jog behind him, thighs burning, almost afraid he’s going to leave without you.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” you insist as you kick off your shoes, putting your boots on.
“Honestly peach,” Jungkook says. “Just drop it.”
It’s your turn to frown. “Did Colton speak to you?”
His silence is answer enough.
“Fuck that dude, Jungkook,” you try to reassure him, but it doesn’t look like it works.
Maybe because you’ve changed since Colton spoke to you, thoughts of Jungkook being a cheater haunting you.
“Just put your boots on,” Jungkook dismisses you, and anger starts welling in your chest.
You don’t say anything until you’re out of the gym, Jungkook’s car just a couple of meters away.
“You don’t have to act like a dick with me, you know?” you tell him.
Jungkook spins around to face you, and you almost bump into him. You catch yourself at the last second, and you look up to meet Jungkook’s dark gaze. Even in the light of the day, shadows are hiding behind his pupils. It makes him look raw – like he’s been chased by demons of his own, thoughts haunting him in ways you can’t understand.
“I’m not being a dick with you, peach,” he drawls. “We’re just friends, and I don’t feel like talking.”
Oh.
“Are you upset because I told him that we’re just friends?”
“I’m upset because that fucker told you stuff I’d rather you not know,” Jungkook answers, voice slowly rising as he fails to put his anger in check.
You furrow your brows. “Everyone knows your reputation, Jungkook.”
He recoils. He physically recoils, taking a step back as if you’ve just punched him in the face. You feel bad – you feel infinitely bad, as his gaze grows pained for a few seconds before the anger hides it away again.
“Right.” He scoffs, shaking his head. “Why do you want to be my friend, then?”
“Because people are going to say shit,” you answer, shrugging your shoulders. “Everyone makes mistakes.”
He laughs, but it’s so cold, devoid of any warmth he’s offered to you recently. “Before you start believing some shit, I was fucking the girl before Colton got in a relationship with her. I told him she wasn’t trustworthy, and we fucked at a party again after she told me she dumped him.”
“You don’t need to tell me this.”
“Oh, but I do.” Jungkook chuckles bitterly. “Colton’s always been jealous of me, and when I told him what happened he just got mad, and refused to listen to me.”
You get why – whoever that girl was, Colton probably had feelings for her. And it sucks to see someone you like getting it on with one of your friends.
Jungkook’s gaze moves from yours to the door of the gym, and you look behind you to see Colton walking out. He notices the two of you, and you think you see him rolling his eyes in the distance.
“Let’s go home,” you tell Jungkook, walking around him to reach his car. 
Jungkook doesn’t move for a few seconds, but then he does, unlocking the doors as he makes his way to the driver’s side. You get in, and the engine purrs to life as Jungkook turns the key in the ignition.
There are a few seconds of silence as he adjusts the warmth, and then he looks at you.
“I wouldn’t have slept with her if they were still together,” he says.
His big eyes hold so much innocence that you immediately believe him. You don’t know if you should, if you’ve just been ensnared, the prey to the spider, but you’re in too deep him.
You’re already in too fucking deep.
“I know, Jungkook,” you reassure him. “Don’t let this dude get to your head.”
You see his Adam’s apple bobbing once, and then he nods and faces forward, getting ready to drive. You can’t divert your gaze from his profile, and you find yourself gulping.
You really are in too deep.
*****
Turns out that letting Jungkook stay for your get-together was a good idea. Indeed, he’s cooked noodles for everyone, and your friends have been eating, praising Jungkook for his skills. He only shrugged his shoulders, as if to say it’s nothing, but you know he likes the praise.
It shows in the way his eyes swim with stars, so far from the shadows that invaded his gaze earlier at the gym. 
And you’ve been trying not to think about it too much. Not to think that whenever Ria looks in his direction, you feel something ugly twisting in your chest. So far, Jungkook hasn’t given her any attention, but you know her – she doesn’t stop until she gets what she wants.
Tonight, what she wants is Jeon Jungkook. 
You’re not the only one who’s been monitoring the two – Seokjin, with his quiet and calm presence, has been looking at your friend ever since everyone got to your apartment. You think you see his disappointment as Ria barely speaks to him, though you don’t know him well enough to tell.
Jungkook turns out to be a good barman as well. He takes everyone’s order when you finish eating, and then he heads to the kitchen to make every drink. Ria follows him, and you clench your jaw, though Hoseok immediately follows as well, offering you a wink.
You’re lucky you have him. Otherwise, tonight would surely go to shit real quick.
“Didn’t know your roommate was so chill,” Yoongi says from where he’s sitting on the couch. 
You’re currently sitting on the floor next to Nabi, with Namjoon on the other side of her. They’ve been conversing just them two for a while, but Yoongi’s statement attracts their attention.
“I mean, with the reputation that he has…” Namjoon trails off.
You cock an eyebrow, indignant. “What’s wrong with his reputation?”
Nabi turns to you, eyes going wide, while Seokjin’s lips spread into a small smile. Yoongi snorts, though you keep the eyebrow cocked, meeting Namjoon’s gaze.
“I mean, isn’t he the guy that’s fucked most of the campus?” Namjoon asks, sounding far too innocent.
“What’s wrong with it?” you challenge. “Wouldn’t you fuck the whole campus if you could?”
Namjoon looks scared now. His gaze falls to Nabi, who shrugs and meets your eyes again. “Why are you so pressed?” she asks, though her lips spread into a smile. “Is it because of the Incident?”
You roll your eyes, though a smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “It’s not.”
“The Incident?” Yoongi chimes in.
You send a warning glare towards Nabi, before saying, “Nothing.”
“What’s nothing?” Jungkook’s familiar voice says as he walks back from the kitchen.
He’s holding two gin and tonics, and he offers the first one to you, before handing the other to Seokjin. Everyone stays suspiciously silent as Jungkook walks back to where you’re sitting, before plopping down on the floor next to you.
Nabi loses it. She bursts out laughing, and your cheeks burn as you punch her in the shoulder.
“Ow!” she shrieks.
Hoseok and Ria walk out of the kitchen then. Hoseok has two beers – one for himself and one for Namjoon – while Ria carries a cranberry vodka for herself and a whiskey on ice for Yoongi. You see the slight frown on her face as she notices Jungkook next to you. It’s only there for a fraction of a second, and then her gaze slides to you, an eyebrow cocking.
When a small, knowing smirk grows on her lips, you feel like disappearing through the floor.
After that, conversations start around you once more, as Ria sits on the couch between Yoongi and Seokjin, and Hoseok sits in front of you, on the other side of the coffee table. Jungkook leans closer to you, trying to catch your gaze, and you turn your head towards him.
“What?” you ask.
“Do you like your drink?”
He’s cute like this. Big eyes awaiting your answer as if it’s the most important thing he’ll hear all night, tongue toying with his piercings anxiously. The glint in his eyes resembles a star, and for a moment you bask in its glow.
Until you snap back to reality when he slowly frowns.
“Is it bad?” he asks.
“No!” you quickly say. “Not at all. I like it.” You make a show of taking a big sip, and though it’s stronger than your usual, you still offer him a small nod. “See, it’s delicious.”
His lips curve upwards. “Good.”
You smile softly, your eyes falling to his empty hands in his lap. The tattoos on the back of his right hand are stark on his skin, and your eyes slowly trail up his arm up to where the ink disappears in the sleeve of his oversized white t-shirt. He’s smirking by the time you meet his gaze again, and you gulp, eyes falling to your drink as if searching for a safe haven.
“You’re not drinking?” you ask.
“Never two nights in a row,” he replies.
You don’t buy his act at all, as you’ve seen him drinking more than two days in a row a lot of times already.
“Bullshit,” you call him out.
He narrows his gaze. “What do you mean, bullshit?”
“You drink all the time,” you state.
Though as you say it you remember the parties when you’ve seen him as the designated driver. It makes you furrow your brows, right as he says, “I’ve been trying to drink less. Besides, I work tomorrow.”
“Oh,” you let out.
He’s about to say something else when Hoseok, beaming with mischief, says, “Should we play Truth or Dare?”
A chorus of yes and nos answers, until Nabi says. “We should just play Spin the Bottle. Truth or Dare is for kids.”
“Hey, Truth or Dare is fun,” Hoseok says, pouting, his eyebrows almost touching over his eyes.
Nabi winks at him, especially as her suggestion ends up winning, and Yoongi and Hoseok clear the coffee table and move it to the side so that you can all sit in a big circle on the floor.
“Younger should spin first!” Ria suggests, knowing fully well that she is the youngest. 
You all agree, and she reaches for Namjoon’s empty beer bottle that was put on the floor between you all. She grabs it by the body, then looks at everyone, gaze shining with amusement. 
“Who wants to kiss me?” she teases.
You wonder if you’re the only one who notices Seokjin’s cheek turning pink as Nabi bursts, “Me!”
As everyone laughs, and Seokjin catches up with a small chuckle, Ria finally spins the bottle. You watch as it spins once, twice, thrice, slowing down on the fourth spin until it fully comes to a stop, facing Hoseok. 
“Well, I guess it’ll be you, Hoba,” Ria says, shrugging her shoulders, and then she kneels so that she can reach Hoseok across the circle.
He grabs her by the cheeks, and he lands a big peck on her slightly parted lips. Both of them didn’t close their eyes for the kiss, and they start laughing awkwardly as Ria sits back.
Yoongi’s cool smile tells you everything you need to know, and you hold in the knowing smirk that wants to split across your features.
Hoseok spins the bottle, and it turns for longer than it did with Ria. It stops on Seokjin, who lets out a startled sound as Hoseok turns towards him, grabbing his cheeks.
“Come here, Jinnie!” Hoseok exclaims.
Seokjin lets out a disgruntled sound, which quickly turns disgusted as Hoseok kisses him, with a lot more lips than he did with Ria. It earns a lot of laughs, especially as Seokjin repeatedly wipes his mouth, using the sleeve of his shirt as a napkin.
“Why was that so wet?” he complains, but ever so the good player, he still spins the bottle.
It turns and turns, a never-ending dance until friction finally slows it down.
You purse your lips when it lands on you, and you look up to meet Seokjin’s gaze. 
“Well, well, well,” you let out.
“I’d much rather kiss you than him,” Seokjin grumbles as he leans across the space.
“What do you mean, he’s a good kisser,” you tease, and Hoseok beams as Ria and Nabi let out a prolonged “Ew!” at the reference to the fact that you and Hoseok used to sleep together.
Though they don’t know that you’ve stopped, and that Hoseok is dating Yoongi now. Not that you’ll be the one to tell them.
You lean forward, meeting Seokjin in the space over the bottle. Right before your lips press on his plump ones, you turn towards Ria. To your surprise, she isn’t looking at you – her eyes are on Jungkook, and the knowing smile from earlier comes back in full force.
It’s too late for you to look behind you, and your eyes flutter shut as Seokjin’s lips find yours. They are soft, warm, and his kiss is gentle, as if he doesn’t want to scare you away. If it wasn’t for the fact that Jungkook is here, you think you’d indulge, but you immediately pull away, sitting back next to your brother’s best friend.
Next to the man with whom you’ve been pretending you haven’t fucked like animals just a few weeks ago.
Unable to resist, you glance at him. He is frowning, though he quickly hides behind an easy smile. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and for a moment you want to scream at him that he’s stupid, that he shouldn’t care, that you need to pretend… but you resist.
Not because you’re surrounded by your friends, no. Because you want him to want you – you want to be the moon he chases at night, and you don’t know what to make of it.
You look away from him, reaching in the middle of the circle to the glass bottle awaiting your spin. Seokjin nods encouragingly, and you spin the bottle…
Only to have it end on Seokjin again.
“Bruh,” Nabi lets out. “I want to kiss people too.”
This time, you don’t miss the muscle ticking in Ria’s eyebrows. So you offer her a wink as you lean towards Seokjin, who meets you with a smile on his lips.
You make to pull away again, but Seokjin grabs your cheeks, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss. Your body immediately reacts – heart racing in your chest, blood pumping in your ears. Your friends cheer as Seokjin’s tongue teases your bottom lip, and then he lets you go, sitting back in his spot while you stay still for a few seconds, eyes fluttering open to meet his.
He’s not looking at you. Instead, his eyes are on Ria, who’s looking down at her drink.
So he’s trying to make her jealous… You slowly nod your head, before sitting back in your spot. Jungkook shifts next to you, and his knee brushes against the side of your thigh.
You shoot him a look, and he offers you a tight-lipped smile, before settling his attention on Seokjin as he spins the bottle again. This time, it lands on Yoongi, and they exchange a small peck, though Seokjin fake-gags through it all. 
“What’s wrong with kissing the homies?” Hoseok teases him, elbowing him in the ribs.
“Nothing,” Seokjin grumbles. “I love you guys, but I’d rather not kiss my friends.”
“You seemed to like kissing Y/n, though,” Ria says, an innocent look on her face that you know she’s faking.
You snort, hiding it behind a long sip of your drink, as everyone watches Seokjin as he looks at Ria, gaze wide, trying to find something to say but clearly coming up short with ideas. 
Silence stretches, growing awkward, until Seokjin says, “I’d kiss you like that too.”
Both Nabi and Hoseok let out a long “Oh!” though Nabi immediately follows hers with, “Then kiss her.”
Seokjin flushes fully red, and Ria grins, cocking her head to the side. 
“I’m game unless you’re too shy,” she says, voice a little sultry.
Seokjin seems afraid now. He looks around the group, as if searching for salvation, but everyone is just looking on with expectation lighting up their gazes.
“Well…” Seokjin lets out, and he gulps. “Hopefully we’ll spin the bottle on each other.”
“Come on, bro,” Jungkook interjects. “Don’t tell me you need that to kiss her?”
Before Seokjin has time to say anything else, Ria grabs his face from where she’s sitting next to him, and she pulls him into a languid kiss that, despite his shy demeanour, he reciprocates right away. People cheer, and you smile widely, your eyes turning to Jungkook amidst the chaos ensuing. 
He’s already looking at you. His eyes dip down to your lips as if he’s considering kissing you right then and there as well, but he glances away, sucking on his piercings. Though the interaction might have passed as nothing to an outside gaze, you feel your blood boiling in your veins, far more than when Seokjin kissed you earlier.
Because no one other than Jungkook can have that effect on you.
When Ria and Seokjin finally pull away, Yoongi hesitantly reaches for the bottle, making a joke that everyone laughs at except you, as you’re still reeling from the way Jungkook looked at you. The bottle spins, and it stops on Nabi, who beams.
“Finally,” she jokes.
The peck she exchanges with Yoongi is cold, that of two friends more than anything, and then Nabi is spinning the bottle as well.
You don’t miss the way her gaze slides sideways to Namjoon. You also don’t miss the way Namjoon slightly leans into her – what you do miss is the bottle as it stops.
Pointing towards Jungkook.
“Oh,” Nabi lets out, and she turns red.
Jungkook, suddenly the picture-perfect arrogant asshole that you know him to be, says, “Don’t sound too disappointed, I’ve been told I’m a good kisser.”
Nabi chuckles awkwardly, and she meets Namjoon’s gaze. He motions towards Jungkook with his beer, as if to encourage her, and she nods once before leaning towards Jungkook.
They kiss right in front of you, and you feel the blood leaving your face as Jungkook has the nerve to tease her mouth with his tongue. As she has the nerve to let him in, their tongues meeting for a few seconds before Jungkook pulls away. He winks at her, smiling triumphantly, and she sits back, face so red she’d put a tomato to shame.
Jungkook slides his gaze to you, winking at you next, before leaning towards you. And though he has to be aware that everyone is carefully watching you, he says in your ear, “Had to make you jealous too.”
Yep. The arrogant asshole.
You push him, rolling your eyes. “Fuck off,” you grumble, and you meet Ria’s gaze as she looks at you way too excitedly for your own sake.
He laughs it off, sitting back in his spot, and then he grabs the bottle spinning it. Whether he meant it or not, it spins twice before stopping, and you stare down the neck of the bottle as it points towards you.
You think Ria is about to leap up, screaming, ‘I knew it!’ Especially as you just keep on staring at the neck of the bottle, refusing to turn your face towards Jungkook. You see his smirk in the periphery of your vision. See the way he wets his lips, far too ready to kiss you dumb like only he knows how to do.
“What are you waiting for?” Nabi asks from beside you, nudging you with an elbow.
You take a deep breath, chuckling. “Let’s pray Taehyung never learns about this,” you say, referencing everything that your friends don’t know, and then you turn towards Jungkook.
Your comment has made him pensive. He’s lost the smirk, and his eyes scan your face, lingering on your lips for far longer than necessary. It makes you blush, makes you feel vulnerable and naked, and you try to find a spark of defiance in you.
All you find is his gravity, and you lean towards him.
He meets you halfway – with none of the fire he had for your friend. Instead, his soft, pink lips move against yours, slowly, and your eyes flutter shut as you instinctively cup his cheek. It feels like time stretches, endlessly. Your mouths dance together, like suddenly eternity found you in its hold. 
When Jungkook’s tongue teases your bottom lip, you let him in, circling it with your own tongue. You hear the cheers now – they’re distant, like they are on the other side of a veil, in an entirely different universe. You ignore them, focusing on the man next to you, kissing you.
You feel Jungkook’s hand as it finds your thigh. He holds you, thumb digging slightly into your skin, and memories of your bodies entwined flash behind your eyelids. So much so that you sigh in the kiss, rhythm suddenly accelerating. It grows frantic, though still just as languid. For a moment, you’d wish for your friends to disappear, to leave you alone with Jungkook but…
“Damn, get a room!” Ria yells, then bursts out laughing with the rest of the friend group. 
You startle, pulling away from Jungkook. Your gazes meet, both wide as if scared, as if you just crossed a line. Though you reckon you’ve crossed the line a while ago already.
You can’t focus on the game after that. You spin and kiss Ria, who then kisses Yoongi. You lose track after that, and thankfully the bottle doesn’t point towards you or Jungkook again. All you can do as your friends exchange kisses and saliva is try to tame your wild heart, but it’s started a race you are bound to lose – a race to the man by your side.
You wonder how Jungkook is feeling. If he, too, feels deeply affected by that kiss. If it rendered his mind a blank canvas like yours, erasing thoughts and memories, leaving just him, him, him.
You’re going insane. You’re going insane for someone you can’t have, for someone who you told to never kiss you again, not even twenty-four hours ago. But his lips and his tongue are drugs you’re starting to like too much – they are an addiction waiting to ensnare you in its web.
You only come back to your senses when, bored, your friends decide to stop the game in favour of watching some dumb movie and making a drinking game out of it. You participate in the drinking game, hoping that it will numb the beating of your heart, but it does little to no good.
Perhaps because Jungkook sits next to you, and you’re all too aware of every spot where your bodies touch. And you wonder – in a universe where he isn’t your brother’s best friend, would you be leaning in his side? Would you let yourself be ensnared, even though his reputation follows him like smoke follows the fire?
You think about what Colton said. You think about Shelly, and about all the other girls Jungkook has had under him. It finally douses the beating of your heart, fire returning to a slumbering ocean, and you feel like you can breathe for the first time since the bottle landed on you and he kissed you.
The second movie the group decided to watch after that drinking game is almost over. Ria fell asleep with her head on Seokjin’s shoulder, who sits with a straight-back, his cheeks turning pink when you notice their position. Hoseok and Yoongi sit next to each other on the couch – pinkies subtly linked, which brings a soft smile to your lips. Jungkook is next to you, though his deep breathing and soft snores tell you enough about what state he currently is in.
You don’t know how you missed it. But Namjoon and Nabi aren’t in the living room anymore. You wonder where they went off to, and the answer comes by itself as they walk back in, clothes wrinkled and hair undone, both of them sporting small, satisfied smiles.
You can’t resist. You pull your phone out, heading to the group chat you have with Ria and Nabi.
[2:43 am] You: I hope you guys didn’t fuck in my bed
You snort to yourself before turning off your phone, and the movie comes to an end a few minutes later, rousing those that had fallen asleep. Jungkook offers you a sleepy smile, and your heart skips a beat. So you look away, think about Colton and Shelly, and the emotion passes.
“I guess we should be going,” Hoseok says as everyone stretches.
Everyone agrees with that statement, and you walk your friends to the door. You make round eyes at Nabi, motioning towards Namjoon, and the shade of red she turns to is enough to let you know that she and Namjoon really did it. You stifle your laugh as you hug her, and then Ria comes to you, resting her head on your shoulder.
“I’m so tired,” she whines. “Can I sleep over?”
You don’t know why. But your eyes go to Jungkook, who’s watching the interaction unfold from where he’s leaning against the wall. Your throat goes dry, and you look away from him, telling your friend, “Nabi will get you home.”
Nabi nods, “Come, baby. Your bed awaits you.”
Ria grumbles, but she follows Nabi, and slowly everyone filters out of your apartment.
Everyone but you and the guy you’re starting to think you should maybe avoid.
“So,” Jungkook lets out, and he laughs lightly. “Tonight was fun. I didn’t know your friends were so chill.”
You lean against the door. The cold from outside lingers, but the way Jungkook is looking at you is warm, hot.
“They are,” you reply.
“I should hang with you guys more often.”
You gulp as he tilts his head to the side, toying with his piercings. “What would Taehyung say?” you ask.
“Who cares what Taehyung says? I’m allowed to have other friends.”
“Right.”
Jungkook’s tongue pokes at his cheek and then he sighs. “Are you upset about the kiss?”
You shake your head no, shrugging your shoulders. “It was just for the game.” 
Though, was it really just for the game?
“Right,” he echoes. He changes tactics, chuckling lightly. “Your friend Ria wants me. She told me while we were in the kitchen.”
“I think you lost your spot to Jin,” you quickly reply, and he doesn’t miss the undertone of jealousy in your voice.
“You didn’t look like you liked me kissing Nabi.”
“You didn’t look like you liked me kissing Jin.”
He wets his lips. “Oh, peach. I loved watching you kiss him, looking all guilty after.” Another chuckle. “You think you can fool me?”
“You’re an asshole.” You don’t mean the insult. Or maybe you do. Maybe some part of you thinks about Taehyung, about what Colton has said. Because you want him to be an asshole – a red flag, so easily avoidable. You want him to be easily pushed away, like the emotions you thought you pushed away earlier.
Though maybe you’ve just been fooling yourself.
You don’t want Jungkook taking a step towards you, stopping where he’s now standing a couple of steps in front of you. You don’t want the conflict unfolding in his big, doe eyes. You don’t want any of it. You just want peace, you want to protect a heart that’s barely healed from Sam Hwang’s passage in your life. 
You want peace so much that you walk closer to him as well, stopping close enough that you have to tilt your head back to look up at him.
“I’m an asshole?” Jungkook repeats, making it sound like a question.
You nod. “Yeah. Because we shouldn’t kiss again. Because you said that it meant nothing, that we have to pretend nothing happened.”
He’s so still in front of you you’d imagine he was turned to stone.
But yes, here’s why your heart has been going crazy. You’re trying to blame it on Colton, on Taehyung and on everybody else. But the fault has always been Jungkook’s. The fault was the way he made you feel, and how just a day later he decided that it wasn’t enough, that it wasn’t what he wanted. Though maybe that was you, and your constant fear of Taehyung learning about you and Jungkook despite the ocean between you.
“But it meant nothing, right?” Jungkook challenges, dark eyes searching for the truth in yours. “Is that why I haven’t been able to fuck anyone else since then?”
Your mind empties out.
“Jungkook…”
“Is that why I kind of want to just say fuck it and tell your brother?” His hand reaches between you, and he runs a hesitant finger on your jawline. “Is that why we’re oh so pretending that nothing happened when you’re the only thing I look at when we’re in the same room?”
“You wanted this,” you remind him.
“You wanted Taehyung to never know, peach,” he counters. “I’ve been wanting you since the first time I saw you.”
You don’t know what to make of this revelation. You don’t even know if you believe him, or if Jungkook is just too good at spinning words into beautiful lies countless hearts have wanted to believe in, only to end up broken. 
You do want to believe him. You do want to believe that every time he’s called you peach, he meant something more. That that first kiss in the kitchen, during a power outage that’s brought you far too close for comfort, meant something to him the way that it meant something to you as well.
“Then why the fuck do I still see you flirting left and right?” you ask.
His jaw clenches. “This is about what Colton said, isn’t it?”
It is, and it isn’t. “Jungkook, I saw you at that bar. I saw you tonight with Ria. It is what you are.”
“What I am?” he repeats, chuckling bitterly. “Is your opinion really so low of me, peach?” He leans towards you, and you tilt your head to the side, letting him run his soft lips up the side of your neck. 
Your breath hitches in your throat. “I’ve heard you fucking girls in this apartment.”
“And I’ve heard you touching yourself at the same time,” Jungkook whispers right in the shell of your ear. “I’ve heard you and that Hobi dude too.”
His hand finds your waist, and he holds you in place as you say, “I think we never should have fucked.”
He leans his forehead against yours. “Why?”
You offer him the truth, in all its vulnerability. 
“Because there is no going back now.”
He laughs, yet it sounds void of joy. “And is that a bad thing?”
“You will just hurt me.”
“Not planning on it.”
You wonder if his heart is beating just as loudly as yours, or if this is just an act to him. It’s hard to tell, and your soul vibrates on a frequency you can’t ignore anymore. It takes everything in you and builds you anew, destroys all the restraints you’ve been trying to have in order to protect yourself.
The spider caught you in its web, and you have no escaping now.
“You can’t say that,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut as he finds the other side of your waist, and he pulls you closer.
“Why do you want to believe the worst of me so bad?”
Because you’ve never given me a reason to believe otherwise, you want to reply, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. Not when his thumbs are tracing idle shapes on your waist, speaking in a language you think your body already knows.
“Because it’s the only way that I don’t end up getting hurt,” you whisper in a voice smaller than the atoms holding you together. “When you believe the worst of people, they never disappoint you.”
Jungkook moves one of his hands to your back, and then it glides up until he’s lost it in the hair at the back of your head. “But if you don’t risk anything, you don’t get anything,” he says.
He’s right, and you almost purr as he gently massages your scalp. “I risked once, and it wasn’t worth it.”
“That asshole didn’t know how to handle you, peach,” Jungkook affirms, softly. “And trust me when I say this – he will regret it later.”
Sam Hwang comes to the forefront of your mind. You remember the summer, remember the easy smiles and the dancing and the driving with the windows down. You remember it all, and then you remember the date yesterday, and the way the dream he’d once been had curdled like milk left outside of the refrigerator for too long. 
Sam was poison shaped like the prettiest flower. His lies were your undoing – has Jungkook ever lied to you?
You don’t think he has. He’s always been crudely honest, playful in his arrogance. But he’s never once lied to you, or at least you want to believe so.
“And do you know?” you ask, murmuring the words so close to his lips you feel them move when his mouth slightly falls open.
Time stops, the whole entire world holding its breath. Your arms are around his neck now – you don’t remember moving at all – and you tighten your hold, just a little bit. As if you think he’ll walk away now, flick your nose and tell you that this is all just a joke.
That he’s played your heart better than anyone before, and that you can laugh about it now.
“Let me show you,” he answers instead, and you think you hear thunder in the distance.
Or maybe that’s your heart, as Jungkook ravishes your lips in a languid kiss that makes you melt into his touch. His large hand finds the small of your back, pushing you into his strong body. You mold yourself to him, arch your back as his feathery soft lips move against yours, his piercings pushing into your lower lips.
He tastes like addiction, like you’ll never be able to kiss someone else. And right now, you don’t think you’ll ever want to. Because you’ve never been kissed the way that Jungkook kisses you. Like he’s branding himself on you, burning his name in your heart so that his flames will keep you warm, always.
He turns you around, pushing you into the wall. A second later he makes you jump so that he can wrap your legs against his waist, and though his lips have momentarily disconnected from yours, he’s quick to kiss you again, to push his tongue in your mouth. You suck on it, and he retaliates by grinding into you.
He’s already hard. He’s already fucking hard and you’ll go insane.
“Jungkook,” you breathe the second he pulls away from your mouth to leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck. He stops at the neckline of your shirt, lips ghosting as he moves back up.
“Do you know how mad you made me when you said you wanted to keep things between us?” he whispers, and he teases your earlobe with his teeth. “When you said that Taehyung doesn’t need to know everything?”
Your head is too clouded with thoughts of him, of what you know is about to happen, so you barely remember. You thought he was the one who wanted to pretend like nothing happened, but then again, he did say that that was you.
You’re confused, and you don’t have time to revisit the past before he sucks on the skin of your neck, hard enough to leave a hickey behind. You run your hands through his hair, and pull at the longer strands on top until his mouth finds yours again.
“I’ll tell him,” Jungkook adds when he pulls away from the kiss. “I don’t care what he says, I’ve been wanting you so bad.”
“Kook…” you trail off, and he grinds into you, before pulling away from the wall to carry you towards his room.
“I’m serious,” he says in your ear, and he does sound more serious than he’s ever been with you. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
You nuzzle your face in his neck, peck the mole you find there. “Can we just figure shit out between us before we tell him?”
You think you feel Jungkook stiffen, but it might just be because one of his hands let go of you so that he can open the door to his room.
“Sure,” Jungkook whispers. “Just let me know when I should speak to him and I will.”
You appreciate it, but you reckon you should be the one to break the news to your brother. You have a lot more chance to be able to handle the tantrum he’ll likely throw, but you don’t want to think about that right now.
You just want to think about Jungkook, about the way he’s gently putting you down on the edge of his bed, amidst the mess of blankets.
And then he’s taking off his shirt, throwing it to the side, and your mind eddies out.
He’s beautiful. You’ve known this, you’ve seen him before, but there’s something about him that’s different right now. Maybe it’s the neon light coming from the street outside. Or maybe it’s just because the fear that’s been plaguing you finally disappeared, and the relief of knowing he wants you too overpowers everything, painting him with all the beauty he beholds.
And he beholds far too much for your frail heart to endure. Yet you still gaze at him, admire all the strong planes of his body as he fishes his cell phone from the pocket of his pants to turn on the LED lights in his room. They shine red, and he winks at you before strutting to the window so that he can pull the curtains shut.
“Red lights?” you tease.
“It’s to set the ambiance,” he says confidently as he walks back towards you.
“You’re an idiot.” It’s said affectionately, with a twinkle in your eyes that you know he doesn’t miss. Because he grins, that bunny grin that does funny things to your insides, and then he stops in front of you.
He drops on his knees, his hands spreading your legs. You widen your gaze, but he’s already bending down, pressing a kiss to your clothed pussy.
“You’ll come on my tongue, mmh?”
Cheeks burning, all you can do is nod your head.
“Good girl.”
Jungkook makes quick work of getting you out of your pants, but he leaves your underwear on. He watches the wet spot where you’ve already soaked through, smirk curving the corner of his lips.
“Gosh, look at you,” he says. “You’re already so ready.”
He pushes your thong to the side so that he can see your glistening pussy. You know you’re wet – you feel your juices dripping out of you, and it only increases when Jungkook leans in, turning his head at the last second to kiss the inside of your thigh instead.
“What do you want?” he asks.
“Huh?” is all you’re able to let out.
He laughs, and he grins up at you. “You’re adorable.” He kisses your thigh again, and then his lips ghost on your clit. You try to move your thighs, but he’s firmly holding you against the bed, refraining any motion from you. “What do you want?” he repeats.
This time, you were ready for the question. “Your mouth,” you breathe out.
He hums, looking up at you through half-lidded eyes. “Where?”
“Eat me out,” you say.
“That’s what you want?”
You nod.
“Then that’s what you’ll get.”
And then his lips close around your clit and he sucks hard, tongue flicking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You immediately grip at his hair, moaning softly, your eyes shutting as he moves from your clit to your entrance. His tongue pushes in, laps your juices, and all you can do is pull at his hair, as if that will keep you grounded.
As if you’re not already floating towards the ceiling.
“Fuck, Jungkook,” you curse.
“You like that?” he queries against your pussy, the movement of his lips making you shiver.
“Yes.”
He sucks on your clit again, eyes shutting in concentration as he switches to drawing circles around it, sending bolts of lightning up your spine. You moan, and you feel him smirk against you as he keeps going. As one of his hands hesitantly leaves your thigh to slide between your legs. 
He teases your entrance with a finger, circling it in time with his ministrations on your clit. The breathy sound you let out is interrupted by a louder moan as his finger slips inside, immediately curving to find the right spot inside of you.
Jungkook shifts, pushing your leg on his shoulder so that he can reach around your frame, his hand resting on your belly. He pushes just enough for you to know that he wants you to lie down, and then he holds you there, the new angle making you see stars.
“How can you-“ It breaks into a moan. “Be so good?” you conclude.
Jungkook laughs, pulling away to meet your gaze. “I’ve seen how you touch yourself,” he reminds you. “I’m just trying to reproduce what you did.”
Which makes no sense because he barely saw anything, but you’re too blissed out to question him. You just take the pleasure in, feeling it rise like the crescendo of a song. 
You’ll come. It only grows more evident when Jungkook pushes a second finger in, and he fucks you like that, relentlessly. His tongue on your clit draws expert figures, and he mixes it with just enough sucking for you to not fall into oversensitive land. No, he keeps you at the edge, pushing you towards your orgasm so quickly you think you’ll explode.
And you do. The second you climax you let out a broken moan, your thighs closing around his face. That doesn’t deter him, and he milks your orgasm out of you, letting you crash into walls and walls of it, until you feel like you’re not even in your body anymore.
Only then does Jungkook sit back on his heels, your juice dripping from his chin. He doesn’t dry it yet – instead he climbs on top of you, pressing a wet kiss to your lips that tastes of you. And the kiss is savage, wild, with his tongue in your mouth and your hands pulling at his hair.
He grunts, pulling away from your mouth to leave a trail of wet kisses on your neck as your hands move to his back, where you leave scratches behind.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Do that when I’m fucking you and you’ll make me come in no time.”
“Then take off your clothes,” you say through the haze. “I want you to fuck me.”
He obeys, standing up to take off his pants and boxers. His dick springs free, proud and tall, precum on the tip that looks far too inviting. So you sit up, hand grabbing the base of his cock, and Jungkook stills as you take him in your mouth, looking up at him.
His precum tastes salty on your tongue, and you lick him all clean before pulling away, jerking him off slowly. 
“Sorry,” you apologize. “I couldn’t help myself.”
He grabs your cheeks, bending down so that he can steal another languid kiss on your lips.
“Don’t apologize, peach,” he says as he straightens. “I’ve wanted to know what your mouth feels like on my dick for a really long time.”
So you dive in, wrapping your lips around his dick to suck on his tip. He bucks his hips, pushing deeper, and you hold the gag reflex in as he hits the back of your throat, immediately pulling out.
“Sorry.”
“For what?” you ask, and the line of drool that connected his dick to your mouth breaks.
“I didn’t mean to fuck your mouth,” he explains.
“What if I want you to?”
He just looks down at you with so much lust in his eyes that you think you’ll drown in it. To your dismay, he says, “Not tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ll come before I can fuck your tight pussy if I fuck your mouth right now.”
Yet he doesn’t move right away, so you keep jerking him off, licking at his slit. “Do you always come so easily when you fuck girls?”
He doesn’t like what you say. Indeed, he pulls on your hair, forcing you to tilt your head back as he bends down. 
“Open your mouth,” he orders.
You obey, far too pliable, and Jungkook spits in your mouth.
It takes you aback, but he doesn’t let you think about it before he pushes your head closer to his dick. 
“Now you can suck my dick.”
You glance up at him as he lets go of your hair, gently brushing it as if to make sure he didn’t hurt you.
“Damn, Jungkook,” you let out.
He freezes, his lustful gaze turning apologetic. “Oh… wait, I’m sorry if-“
“No,” you interrupt. “That was hot.”
“Are you sure?”
Without breaking eye contact, you swirl your tongue around the tip of his dick, mixing his drool with yours that was already there. “Yes.”
And then you unleash yourself, taking as much of him in your mouth as you can. You hollow your cheeks, swallow around him, and then pull away so that you can lick from between his balls up to the tip of his cock. You apply pressure to his frenulum, teasing it for a little longer, and then you circle the head of his dick again, sucking on it.
“Fuck,” Jungkook curses.
And he keeps on cursing as you keep going, the taste of his precum far too inebriating. You want more of it, you want all of it, and you give it to him, show him just how much you’ve wanted him too. Just how much you’ve always found him hot, how much you’ve always dreamed of choking on his dick when he bucks his hips again, and this time the gag reflex makes you choke.
You pull away with drool on your chin, teary-eyed as you look up at him.
“Listen,” he says. “If you keep going, I’ll come. I’m down if you are, but I really, really want to fuck you.”
“Put a condom on your fucking dick, JK,” you tell him. “I want you.”
You don’t have to say it twice. Jungkook walks to his nightstand, fishing a condom out of the drawer. He’s quick to rip the tinfoil package, pulling the condom out so that he can wrap it on his cock. You watch from where you’ve lied back down on the bed, fingers mindlessly drawing circles on your clit after you’ve taken your panties off.
“You’re so fucking desperate for me, peach,” Jungkook purrs. “You really are just a dirty slut for me.”
And then he’s climbing on the bed, pulling you up. He rids you of your shirt, and he curses under his breath at the sight of your lace bralette. 
“You’re keeping this on,” he says, and you nod as he pushes you back down on the bed so that he can climb on top of you. “Stop me if it’s too much, okay?”
You blink once, not sure you heard right, and Jungkook bends to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. You weren’t expecting it, and your heart melts in your chest, even as his tip nudges your entrance.
“You sure you want me?” he asks. “We can stop-“
“Jungkook, fuck me before I go insane.”
He smirks, and he pushes in unforgivingly, slamming his dick in to the hilt. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your mouth falls open, though no sound escapes your lips. Jungkook grunts, and his dick twitches inside of you, bringing back stars to your vision.
“How can you be so fucking tight?” he asks. “Am I not turning you on?”
“Oh, you are.” You shudder in delight at the feel of him inside of you.
He pulls almost all the way back, and then snaps his hips forward again. “You better not be fucking anyone else,” he says. “Your pussy is mine.”
A part of you wants to say your pussy is no one’s but yours, but Jungkook immediately starts pounding into you, so hard his headboard hits the wall repeatedly. Once, you would have been on the other side of the wall, thinking about him fucking some girl, but now he’s fucking you.
Now he’s fucking you, his large dick dragging on your walls so perfectly you understand his reputation. He’s good, far too good, and you know he’ll easily be able to get you to come again. Especially as he bends forward to hit a better angle, and your hands find his thighs so that you can mark him there.
“Peach,” he moans, and you’re surprised to hear the nickname in the heat of the action, yet it makes so much sense.
It makes so much sense for you and Jeon Jungkook, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“You feel so good,” you cry out, and Jungkook slows down so that he can lower himself on top of you, his forearms framing your face.
He pecks your lips. “It’s because you take me so well.”
You moan as he increases his pace once more, jackhammering into you. It hurts a little, but there’s something so sinful about the feeling of his dick hitting your cervix that all you can do is beg for more, even though he’s already pounding into you.
He doesn’t disappoint, clearly understanding what you want. Indeed, Jungkook pulls out, flips you over, settling himself between your legs so that he can hit it from the back. He raises your hips, just enough so that he can align himself with your entrance, and then he’s fucking you again, the new angle so good your orgasm approaches you at light speed.
“I’ll come,” you warn him in a high-pitched sound.
“Yeah?” he grunts, and all you do is moan his name in reply, right as he reaches in front of you, fingers skillfully aiming for your clit.
The second he’s pressing circles on your clit you climax, vision turning fully white as he slows down inside of you, giving you a respite so that he can milk your orgasm out of you.
“That’s it, peach,” he says, voice so low it’s almost a growl. “You’re such a good fucking girl for me.”
The words barely register, yet they make your head swim with ecstasy, swim with desire for the man behind you, on top of you. And once he’s sure to have milked your orgasm, Jungkook resumes his unforgiving speed, and his headboard bangs in the wall so loud you wonder if it’ll break.
Jungkook breaks first, bending down as his high hits, and he grunts and moans, his dick twitching inside of you. You wrap one hand around his forearm closest to your face, your walls fluttering around his dick as he shakes, spurting his cum into the condom.
He comes for a long time, but eventually his high recedes, and all that’s left to be heard in the room is your heavy breathing mingling with his. He’s wet on top of you, his body covered in a sheen of sweat, yet you don’t want him to move. 
You feel safe here, under him. Like his large frame will keep all atrocities of the world away from you.
Jungkook takes a deep breath and presses a kiss on your cheek. A tired smile grows on your lips, and it only gets bigger when he does it again, his lips lingering on your skin.
“That felt good?” he asks against you.
“Mmh,” you let out. 
“Good.” He pauses, pressing another kiss on your cheek before straightening, returning to his previous kneeling position. He massages your ass, and you almost purr from how good it feels. His softening dick falls out of you, and you look at him over your shoulder.
He’s dishevelled, sinfully so. The top of his chest is red, and wet strands of hair cling to his forehead. Yet he’s more beautiful than you’ve ever seen him, and it makes your heart flutter in your ribcage.
“You look good,” you tell him, even though you didn’t mean to say the words aloud.
He takes it in stride, a grin growing on his lips. “Thanks peach.” And then his gaze falls to your ass, and he playfully slaps it. “So do you.”
You snort, rolling on your back as he moves off from on top of you. He discards the condom, tying a knot in it before throwing it in the trash can, and you watch as he carefully cleans himself with some tissues. You should probably do the same thing, but all you can do is watch, feeling content in the swimming bliss, in the red light and Jungkook’s company.
“Do you want to take a shower?” he asks.
You hum, nodding lazily. “I should.”
“I’ll come with you,” he offers, hand extended towards you.
You can’t say no, so you take a shower with him, revelling in the feel of his large hands as he washes your back. You offer him the same treatment, and he teases you about it, yet it’s lacking its usual bite. His tone only holds endearment now, and maybe that’s why you don’t get angry.
Maybe that’s why you both are a giggling and blushing mess when you step out of the shower, and he wraps you in a towel before grabbing one for himself. He dries his hair first, and then wraps the towel around his waist, uncaring that he’s dripping water all over the floor. It’s usually something that drives you crazy, but right now you really can’t bring yourself to care.
Instead, you brush your teeth beside him, shrieking when he pokes your ribs.
“Jungkook!”
He laughs. “Sorry.”
He doesn’t look apologetic at all, and so you narrow your gaze at him, before spitting the toothpaste in the sink, letting the water carry it away.
“I’ll get my revenge someday,” you warn him.
“I’m terrified,” he teases, and you roll your eyes as you put the toothbrush away, leaving him alone in the bathroom. He’s quick to follow behind you as you aim for your room.
You’re not surprised when he follows you in, looking far too at ease in your space.
“What are you doing?” you ask him.
“Aren’t we sleeping together?”
You widen your gaze, letting out a small laugh. “You want to share a bed?”
He frowns, lips jutting out in a small pout. “Yeah?”
“You’re simping.”
His mouth falls open, and then he laughs, though it’s short-lived. His eyes darken, and he steps closer to you, one large hand wrapping around your throat. You gulp, and he tightens his grip, bending down so that he can steal a languid kiss on your lips. He tastes of mint, and you let out a breathy sound as he deepens the kiss, pushing his tongue in your mouth.
“Then I’ll let you sleep alone, peach,” he says when he pulls away, his hand falling to his side.
He’s already in the hallway when you call behind him, “Wait!”
Jungkook stops, but he doesn’t turn to look at you. So you walk over to him, pulling on his arm.
“Stay?”
He slides his gaze to you, a smirk adorning his lips. “Look who’s simping now?”
You clench your jaw, yet all he does is flick your nose as he moves back into your room, plopping down on your bed.
“My mattress is more comfortable,” he comments.
You glare at him, though your expression softens when his eyes shift from the ceiling to you. 
“Then do you want to sleep in your bed?”
“With you?” he asks. As you nod yes, he adds, “Absolutely.”
And that is how you find yourself in Jungkook’s bed, his inked arm wrapped around you as he holds you close to his chest. He turned off the LED lights, and his breathing is steady and deep behind you.
Your thoughts slide to Taehyung. To how he’d react if he saw you and Jungkook right now, all cuddled up in his best friend’s bed. You wonder, would he kill Jungkook or you first?
You reckon that that will be a bridge you’ll cross when you get to it. You don’t want to ruin what you might now have with Jungkook, not when getting to where you are tonight was such a hassle already. 
A hassle, yes, but worth every step of the way. If only for Jungkook to tighten his arm around you, pressing a kiss on the back of your head.
“I’ve been thinking,” he whispers.
“Yeah?” you let out as he doesn’t say anything else for a few seconds.
“Now I’ll allow you to call me crazy,” he adds, and you laugh, turning in his hold so that you can face him. His features are barely visible in the dim light filtering from behind the curtains, yet you’re pretty sure his eyes are soft as they meet yours. “But I want to go to New York with you.”
Your brows furrow. “To New York?” you press.
“My brother has an engagement party next weekend, and I’ve been dreading going.”
Now you’d say your heart just dropped to your ass because, is he really asking you to meet his family?
“You want me to go with you to your brother’s engagement party?” you let out.
He chuckles. “Yes.”
“But we’re not…” you trail off.
You’re not delusional enough to believe you’re suddenly dating Jeon Jungkook. Just because you both admitted your attraction to the other doesn’t mean that you have to dive head first into a relationship… right?
“No, we’re not,” he says as if sensing your unease. “My family sucks and I just… I’ve been dreading going, but I thought that it could be fun with you.”
You feel bad for him, for that vulnerable mention of his family, but you don’t want to push, so you say, “And what will you tell your family that I am?”
“Would you mind pretending to be my girlfriend?” he suggests. “Just for the weekend, so that you don’t get any wrong ideas.”
You roll your eyes, and he laughs, having probably seen the gesture. “What do I get in return?” you ask.
“My undying love and gratitude?” he teases, his bunny grin on display.
“Are you saying you love me, Jeon Jungkook?”
The silence is a little too long for comfort, and your heart races in your chest, awaiting his answer. Yet he only shrugs his shoulders, before saying, “You wish. So, is that a yes or a no?”
“It’s from next Friday to Sunday?” you enquire. 
He nods, and you truly take the time to ponder. Because you don’t know if it’s a good idea. If it means just getting attached more when one day this is all bound to go up in flames. 
Or maybe it won’t. Maybe Taehyung won’t be the overbearing asshole that you’ve known him to be your whole life, and maybe he’ll let you do whatever it is that you have to do with Jeon Jungkook. Maybe he’ll let you live what you have to live with Jungkook…
But then you think about Colton, you think about Lisa, about Shelly, Jungkook’s reputation once more haunting you. You’re not delusional enough to think you’ll be the one to change him.
Yet a weekend away, just the two of you… It sounds like heaven, though you’re aware it might just be hell disguised as a beautiful memory that will taunt you somewhere along the line.
College is meant to experience things though, right?
So you find yourself asking, “At what time do we leave?”
Prev | Chapter 7.5 | Next
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gosh where are these two headed :') next chapter is v special to me and i'm really excited for you guys to read! But first, let me know what you thought of this chapter? did we like it?<3
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate.
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p0orbaby · 3 months ago
Text
No Earth Just Sky
summary: your worlds collide, and so does your head with a fist
warnings: injury, loss of consciousness
a/n: thank you for the request !
word count: 1.5k
-
The corner comes in like a missile, curving dangerously towards the cluster of players jostling for position in the box. You’ve been eyeing it since the moment it left the Mapi’s boot, every fiber of your being focused on that one moment when it’ll be yours.
It’s a Champions League night, the kind where legends are made, and you’ve decided, in a split second of pure adrenaline-fueled brilliance—or idiocy, depending on who you ask—that you’re going to be the hero. You’re going to be the one who gets on the end of that cross, who heads it into the back of the net, and who sends Barca to victory.
But football is a cruel sport, and tonight, it decides to teach you a lesson the hard way.
You charge forward, eyes locked on the ball, and leap into the air. Everything around you fades, the roar of the crowd, the shouts from your teammates, even the blood pounding in your ears. It’s just you, the ball, and the goal.
And then, out of nowhere, everything goes wrong.
There’s a flash of red and white, a blur of motion as Arsenal’s keeper barrels towards you, fists outstretched. You don’t even have time to react, to dodge, to protect yourself. The collision happens in a heartbeat, in a single, devastating instant.
Her fist connects with the side of your head with a force that feels like a sledgehammer. The world around you shatters into a million pieces. The sound is a sickening crack that reverberates through your skull, and then there’s nothing but pain—blinding, searing pain that explodes behind your eyes and radiates down your spine.
You’re out before you even hit the ground.
When you come to, it’s like trying to claw your way up from the bottom of a deep, dark pit. The pain is still there, a dull throb that pulses in time with your heartbeat, but it’s distant, like it’s happening to someone else. You can’t move, can’t speak, can’t do anything but lie there as the chaos unfolds around you.
You can hear voices, muffled and distorted, like you’re underwater. Someone is screaming—high-pitched, furious, and so full of raw emotion that it sends a shiver down your spine. It takes a moment to realise it’s Alexia.
You manage to open your eyes, just a sliver, just enough to see her, and it’s like looking at a completely different person. Her face is twisted in a mask of rage, her eyes blazing with a fire you’ve never seen before. She’s in the ref’s face, screaming in rapid-fire Spanish that you can’t make out, her hands shaking with the force of her fury.
Leah is there too, trying to hold her back, her arms around Alexia’s shoulders, but even Leah, strong, unflappable Leah, is struggling to contain her. Alexia is out of control, like a storm that’s broken loose and is tearing through everything in its path. And you realise, with a cold, sinking feeling, that she’s not just angry. She’s terrified.
The medics are on you now, hands probing gently at your head, voices whispering words meant to soothe, to reassure. You can’t focus on them, though, because everything hurts too much, and you’re still half-lost in the darkness that’s threatening to pull you under again.
You try to move, to sit up, to tell Alexia and Leah that you’re okay, that they don’t need to worry, but your body won’t cooperate. It’s like you’re made of lead, every limb too heavy to lift, every breath a struggle. And the pain—God, the pain—is overwhelming, a sharp, relentless agony that turns your vision red at the edges.
“Stay still,” one of the medics says, her voice firm but gentle. Like a mother telling their child they need to wash their hands before dinner. “We need to get you stabilised”
You want to argue, to tell them that you’re fine, that you can walk off the pitch like you always do, but you can’t. You can’t do anything but lie there, helpless, as the reality of what’s happened starts to sink in.
The game has stopped. The crowd is silent, a tense, expectant hush that feels like the entire world is holding its breath. You can see your teammates, their faces pale and worried, hovering at the edge of the scene like they’re too afraid to come closer.
But it’s Alexia that you keep coming back to. Alexia, who is still shouting, still fighting, who looks like she’s ready to tear the ref apart with her bare hands. Leah is pleading with her now, her voice urgent, her grip on Alexia tightening, but it’s like she’s not even there. All Alexia can see is red.
You’ve seen Alexia angry before. You’ve seen her fired up in matches, seen her argue with refs, seen her defend her teammates with a ferocity that borders on the terrifying. But this—this is different. This is personal.
And it’s because of you.
Finally, Leah manages to pull Alexia back, away from the ref, away from the Arsenal players who are now looking on in stunned silence. Alexia stumbles, her hands dropping to her sides, her chest heaving with the effort of trying to hold herself together. She looks over at you, and the rage melts away, replaced by something much worse—fear.
“Get her off the pitch,” Leah orders, her voice shaking. “Get her out of here��
The stretcher arrives, and they lift you onto it with the kind of care you’ve only ever seen in hospitals. You’re drifting in and out now, the pain ebbing and flowing like a tide, and it’s all you can do to keep your eyes open.
You catch one last glimpse of Alexia as they wheel you away, and the look on her face is one you’ll never forget. It’s broken, shattered, like the strongest person you know is crumbling right before your eyes.
“Alexia…” you try to say, but it comes out as a whisper, lost in the noise around you.
Leah is still holding her back, her eyes glistening with tears she’s trying desperately to hide. She’s saying something to Alexia, something you can’t hear, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing they say will change what’s happened. Nothing will make this okay.
As the tunnel swallows you up, the lights above blurring into streaks of white, the darkness comes rushing back, and this time, you can’t fight it. You let it take you, because what else can you do?
-
When you wake up, you’re in a hospital bed, the sterile smell of antiseptic filling your nose, the steady beep of a heart monitor the only sound in the room. Your head is wrapped in bandages, and every part of you feels like it’s been put through a meat grinder.
It takes a moment for you to remember where you are, to remember what happened. And when you do, the first thing you feel isn’t pain or fear. It’s guilt.
Guilt because you know Alexia’s probably blaming herself. Guilt because Leah’s probably worrying herself sick. Guilt because your team needed you, and you let them down.
You close your eyes, trying to push it all away, but it’s no use. The memory of that moment—the collision, the pain, the sound of Alexia’s screams—is burned into your mind, and you know it’ll be a long time before it fades.
The door to your room creaks open, and you hear soft footsteps approaching. You open your eyes, and there they are—Alexia and Leah, both looking like they haven’t slept in days. Alexia’s eyes are red-rimmed, her hair a mess, and Leah… Leah just looks lost.
They don’t say anything at first, just stand there, staring at you like they’re not sure you’re real.
“Hey,” you croak, your voice weak and raspy.
Alexia bursts into tears.
Leah rushes to her side, wrapping her arms around her, holding her as she sobs into her shoulder. It’s the most heart-wrenching thing you’ve ever seen, and all you can do is lie there, helpless, as the two people who mean the most to you fall apart.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, but they don’t hear you. They’re too wrapped up in their own pain, their own guilt.
You want to reach out, to comfort them, to tell them it’s not their fault, but you can’t. Your body won’t let you. So you just lie there, watching them, feeling like the worst kind of burden.
Eventually, Alexia pulls herself together enough to come to your side. She takes your hand, her grip gentle but firm, and looks at you with a mixture of relief and devastation.
“You scared us,” she says, her voice trembling.
“I scared myself,” you try to joke, but it falls flat. The pain in her eyes is too much to bear.
Leah comes to stand on your other side, her hand resting on your shoulder, her touch light as a feather. “You’re going to be okay,” she says, but it sounds like she’s trying to convince herself more than you.
You nod, but you don’t really believe it. Because you’re not sure if anything will be okay after this.
The game ended in a draw. Arsenal went through on away goals. Barca’s Champions League dream is over, and you’re lying in a hospital bed, feeling like the world’s biggest failure.
But for now, with Alexia and Leah by your side, maybe that doesn’t matter as much as it did before. Maybe all that matters is that you’re still here, still breathing, still fighting.
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