#I THINK I'M GONNA MAKE A VERSE FOR HIM FUCK

[demigod-of-the-agni]

the fuck did they do to pavitr again

Edge of Spider-Verse (2024) Issue #4

[abyssalpriest]

Just woke from a fascinating AF dream where there was this sort of boat festival in a town where I lived and people would build boats to be in it, and theyd take around kids/teens from regional schools each year for the festival. My boat is built to work off singing, insert dream (and weird strands of astral) logic where when you sang it filled the sails. Specifically though I'd teach the kids this four line song from a mother's perspective that was basically:

O, (something), have you seen my daughter

Her husband (killed her and left her body at sea)

(cannot remember this line at all)

And so I deliver her his head

Literally just. this song about going out to sea with your daughters husbands severed head to throw it in the depths to show her sea-swallowed body that you got revenge. And honestly. that's the most Red Sky dream I've ever dreamt. There's been times she's been in my dream stirring up storms and shit and no this one? This teacherly captain who, each year, take on the teens from local schools who come to learn about boats and gets them to row by singing THAT song... fascinating

[sunrizef1]

Bed Chem

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x Reader

Warnings: None

Authors Note: Im working lateeee cuz I'm too busy pretending Logan has a seatttt | this took so long actually wtf

TWITTER

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

📍Paris, France

liked by iamrebeccad carlossainz55 and 12,888,999 others

yourusername what a show @givenchy

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user1 mother

user2 my queen

user3 prettyyyyyyyyyyy

user4 🤭

iamrebeccad my fav girl 💋

liked by yourusername

user5 hot

user6 ❤️❤️

user7 I'm in love

user8 the sheer is giving

user9 I love you pls reply 😭

user10 my favvvvvvv I love HERRRRRR

user11 NEW MUSIC PLEASE BAE

carlosainz55 do you know your dress is see-through 😓

yourusername its givenchy!

user12 I need that dress 😭

user13 Y/N WHATS YOUR OPINION ON LOGAN SARGEANT

theweeknd 🔥

liked by yourusername

user14 MY pop icon

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MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

iamrebeccad

🫶

yourusername

ilyyyy 💋

——

carlossainz55

y do u insist on calling me father so much

yourusername

Mama y papa

carlossainz55

what

yourusername

Papa y mama

carlossainz55

Okay

——

MESSAGES

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

user1

NEW MUSIC???????

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user2

IS THAT JACK????

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iamrebeccad

Wait!!! What!!!

Can I hear it 🤭

yourusername

Ofc love 🤞

iamrebeccad

Is it about a certain American….

yourusername

Ahhh

Can't say 😶

iamrebeccad

That's a yes to me

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MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

user1

ARE YOU GOING TO THE RACE QUEEN

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user2

Logan????

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carlossainz55

Are you finally coming to a race???

yourusername

I have to be in Paris Sunday for a shoot 🫣

But I will be there the other days

But secretly

So don't tell anyone 😶

carlossainz55

Your secrets safe with me 🤐

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TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

🎵Paris - Taylor Swift

liked by logansargeant carlossainz55 and 12,999,888 others

yourusername je pense que vous souffrez d'un manque de vitamine moi

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user15 oui oui oui baguette

user16 viva la France

user17 someone call char lechair

user18 I thought she was gonna be at the race 😓

user19 BESTIE YOUR BOYFRIEND FINISHED 8TH DID YOU SEE

liked by yourusername

user19 SHE LIKED THIS COMMENTTTT

user20 “I think you're suffering from a lack of vitamin me” lmfao the caption

user21 wait what does the paper say????

user22 “I'm so fucking sick of having to hide how deeply I feel and how passionately I love you”

user21 WAIT THATS ADORABLEEEE

user23 my francophile queen

user24 I didn't know the Eiffel tower was so small

user25 this is so aesthetic core

user26 the yellow Parisian lighting really makes it

user27 I can name a certain American who's probably suffering from a lack of you

oscarpiastri oui

yourusername ok

user28 Oscar and y/n: my fav deadpan icons

user29 ooh la la huh huh huh 🥐

user30 are you happy to be in Paris?

yourusername oui

user31 y/n whats your favourite part of Paris

yourusername smells of piss. Constantly.

user32 pretty pretty pretty girl

logansargeant 🇫🇷🥐

liked by yourusername

user33 THE SONG FOR THE POST BEING PARIS BY TAYLOR???? IM SO IN LOVE THAT I MIGHT STOP BREATHING DREW A MAP ON YOUR BEDROOM CEILING???? She's in love!!!!!

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TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

user1

LOGAN??????

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user2

boyfriend spotted

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user3

Soft launch?????

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user4

don't be shy

Post him on the feed

——

carlossainz55

you're welcome

I was the messenger

I did this

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yourusername

liked by logansargeant maxverstappen1 and 15,999,800 others

yourusername surprise! My new single “bed chem” is out now… come sleep with me 💋🛏️

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user34 WOOOOOO

user35 its so good 😭🫶😭😭🫶

user36 LOGANNNNNNNNN

user37 no tag????

user38 the first verse just being the most thinly veiled reference to the givenchy show… like girl 😭

user39 “I was in a sheer dress the day that we met” we've all seen the black dress 🤭

user40 “we were both in a rush we talked for a sec” that one video of them lmfao

user41 “your friend hit me up so we could connect” I say that's Oscar.

user42 Ive chosen to believe its Alex

user43 THIS SONGS ABOUT LOGAN?????

user44 “manifest that you're oversized” I'm going to pretend this isn't about Logan so I still see him again

oscarpiastri a lot of words I don't want to hear about my friend btw

yourusername well… idc

user45 who's the cute guy with the wide blue eyes? 😍

carlossainz55 ive finally made it into a song

liked by yourusername

user46 ok wait but the Paris pic is so cute 😭

user47 those messages are so funny 😭

user48 he only has eyes for his girl 🤭

iamrebeccad SO GOODDDDDD

yourusername 🫶

user49 I sense logie bear

user50 Logan Sargeant hard launch on the feed

logansargeant 🔥

yourusername 💋

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logansargeant added to their story

yourusername

Ily lo 💋💋💋💋

logansargeant

🤭🫶

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Taglist:

@c-losur3 @llando4norris @lokideservesahug @casperlikej @evie-119 @awritingtree

[ellecdc]

so what if im ovulating 🙄 doesnt change anything

anyways closer to a full moon remus would be so mean and rough and sirius would have to be the one thats soft with you and praises you and its such a 180 it makes you feel even dizzier than you were already feeling, hed coo and tell you how “youre doing such a good job for our moony, sweet girl” and remus would just be grunting “mine mine mine mine”

ive not rly studied for my exam do u think theyd pass me if i wrote this instead? xoxo

....... I'm not proud of this.......

wolfstar x fem/afab!reader close to the full moon (nsfw, 18+)

CW: pure filth, 100% smut. little fluff in the aftercare. p in v sex, cumming inside someone, over stimulation, slight subspace mention (?), slight dom/sub dynamics if you really squint and look at it sideways, writer is still new to writing smut and not well versed so be nice

There were quite a few things that Remus and Sirius had in common.

They were both very mischievous, they were both funny and teasing, they were both very protective and possessive, and they both seemed crazy about you.

But there were also a lot of differences between your two boyfriends. 

Remus was calm and assured; he was your rock and safe space when life got crazy. He was the good cop to Sirius’ bad cop, he was always down to leave the party early, and he was so incredibly soft with you.

And Sirius, whilst soft on you, was rarely ever soft with you. He was boisterous and excitable; always down for fun and adventure. He was quick to anger but just as quick to fold when your lip wobbled or you bat your eyelashes at him, and he knew how to push all of your buttons like a professional pianist’s fingers dancing along the keys of your soul. 

And it was because of this that you found your current predicament quite contrary to the norm (and thus, so much hotter). 

“I…I can’t, I can’t.” You cried breathlessly; currently held upright by a strong arm around your ribs and another hand gripping your neck.

The only response you got from the boy behind you was a low grumble as he tightened his grip on you and thrusted into you with new vigor. 

“Can you give Rem one more, sweetness?” Your usually very brazen  boyfriend murmured softly, pushing some of your sweaty  hair away from your face so he could see you. 

You keened and shook your head as you felt Remus move his hand that had been roughly gripping your waist down to your clit; every muscle in your body strung taut in response. 

“She’s close.” Remus gruffed from behind you before replacing his teeth gently into your neck.

“Are you close, sweets?” Sirius confirmed. 

It was too much, too much. You were very quickly reaching your… (third? Fourth?) orgasm of the evening and you weren’t even sure you’d been going at it for that long. 

Sirius was in much the same state, currently soft and satiated below you where he’d just spilled down your throat before you were pulled back up vertically to the sound of steady chants of “mine” by Remus. 

That had been his third of the evening too. 

“You’ve been so good, baby; so good for our Moony, yeah?” He cooed at you softly as he sat up. You felt tears form in your eyes as Remus shifted you in his grip so that your knees were barely touching the bed any longer. 

“Tell her she’s been a good girl, Moons.” Sirius encouraged gently, taking your hand in his that you quickly held in a death grip.

“S’good.” Remus nearly growled behind you. “My perfect girl.”

You cried out as you felt yourself fall over the edge one last time, tears falling down your cheeks as Remus fucked you through it.

Remus shifted his hands again to grip each of your wrists behind your hips and let your torso fall forward into the bed as he sped up his already merciless pace into your sopping cunt; the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing against the walls of the room. 

You felt Sirius’ hand push hair away from your neck and rub a thumb against your temple. 

“Gonna fill your good girl up, Rem?” He purred to your boyfriend.

Though you couldn’t see it, you could hear the two of them share a deep kiss which never even slowed Remus’ thrusts. 

“Mine.” Remus repeated as he pulled away from Sirius.

“All yours, Moony. Show her how much you love her, hm?”

And with that, Remus’ thrusts stuttered before he was spilling deep inside of you.

He came with a sound that bordered a whine and a growl as he fell forward; his body blanketing yours and burying his face into your neck as you both fought to catch your breath.

You’re not sure if you had fallen asleep, but the next thing you knew you could feel gentle kisses being pressed to your shoulder as Remus pulled out of you as gently as possible; with how oversensitive you were, it still caused you to hiss.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, dovey.” He whispered; pressing more kisses to your neck. “Are you sore?”

You whined in response and tried to shove your face further into the bed.

“Talk to us baby, are you okay?” Sirius added, appearing beside you and encouraging you to face him.

“M’Okay.” You mumbled, staring what you were sure was rather dopily at your long-haired boyfriend.

“I think Pads ran you a bath, sweet thing.” Remus murmured quietly, rubbing soothing strokes up and down your spine from behind you. “You feel okay to get up?”

“Yeah.” You sighed, though made no movements to rise from your current horizontal position.

You heard Sirius chuckle but Remus made a sympathetic cooing sound. “I’m so sorry, dovey. Are you sore?”

“No. Just sensitive.” You grumbled as you pushed yourself up to sit back on your ankles. “That was a lot.”

Remus sighed and brushed some hair away from your face. “It was a lot, but was it too much?” He clarified; tone inlaid with a subtle vulnerability completely at odds with the relentlessness he’d just treated you with.

“No.” You said as you offered him a sleepy smile. “Not too much.”

“I, for one, had a ton of fun.” Sirius said with a clap of his hands, causing Remus to snort a laugh.

“Yeah I bet you did.” He responded teasingly. 

“Wanna take a bath, princess? Go pee and then you can climb in with moons.” Sirius instructed as he helped you stand up on slightly wobbly legs. 

“No, she can climb in with you.” Remus argued. 

“Why would she climb in with me? I ran the bath for the two of you.”

“I was the one who took things too far, so-” Remus started, causing both you and Sirius to squawk in protest.

“She just said it wasn’t too much.” Sirius drawled. “Let me take care of you guys!”

“No!”You listened to the two boys argue over who got to perform the aftercare for the other (and thus, who loved each other the most, according to Sirius) as you went pee and then sunk into the perfectly drawn bath alone.

[imagine-you]

all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me [Logan/Reader]

Summary: Sequel to won't somebody come take me home? and closer to where I started. Now that you've decided to put the past behind you, you're focused solely on what the future holds for you, Logan, and your family. Whether that means teaming up with the X-Men to help stop the escalated attacks around the city or sitting down for a nice dinner with Logan, Laura, and Wade, you're ready for all of it. You're so close to being completely happy until you find yourself a victim of one of the attacks and find out that someone from Logan's universe has managed to return. You never expected your new life to be easy, but you certainly never thought Logan's wife would show up and disrupt everything you had built for yourself. Word Count: 9k Author's Note: This chapter may contain: Angst, Reader Whump, Surprise Cameos, Angst, A New Villain, A Disrupted Villain Origin Story, Training Montages, Angst, A Smidge of Hope, Illusions, and…Angst. (but I swear the angst gets resolved. y'all have to trust me!! there will be a happy ending for this fic.)

When I'm With You I'm Home 'verse

won't somebody come take me home? // closer to where I started

Read on AO3

If anyone had told you while you were stuck in the Void that there was a future where you found yourself in another universe and your greatest wish had come true, then you would have chalked it up to a pipe dream and left it at that. If anyone had told you there was a future where your worst nightmare had come true, well then, that would've been easier to believe.  

"What are you making?" Laura asked, peering over your shoulder to get a look at the stove.  

"Something special," you told her, winking at her when she let out an impatient huff. "Steak and pasta," you clarified, turning your attention back to where you were spooning sauce over the steaks, hoping the flavor carried through for you.  

After getting back from your original universe, you had felt like the weight of the past had been lifted off your shoulders. You didn't give a fuck about your original Logan and as far as you were concerned, he could fuck off into whatever happy existence he wanted with Jean. Did you want them to suffer? Maybe. But it was no longer a requirement for you to heal.  

Your Logan had made sure of that.  

Now, weeks had passed, and you felt like a new person. Gone was the obsession with the past and in its place was now your excitement for the future.  

Your future with Logan and Laura and even Wade. Your future with a new family and a new team. Life hadn’t given you a moment of rest, but you were happy to know that when your back was against the wall, you had people ready to jump in and protect you from whatever hit came your way.  

All of you had spent the last couple of weeks wrapped up in the escalated attacks happening throughout the city. There weren't many indicators about who exactly was causing them. Half the time, there were explosions and other times it was just an outright slaughter.  

Logan and Wade were out trying to help the X-Men clean up the latest catastrophe. You had opted to stay home with Laura, taking a moment of well-deserved rest from running from one tragedy to the next. Logan had left you with a promise to return that evening and a kiss that hinted at more later.  

You thought it was cute how Logan kept insisting he was retired, but the first sign of trouble, and he couldn't help but jump right in. It was why you loved him, because even though he had spent years spiraling after the devastation he faced with his old life, he still couldn't help but try to make things better for others.  

You liked to think you had a little something to do with that.  

Even though you were just within reach from a perfect existence, you knew it still wasn't without its problems. You and Logan still had a lot of work to do. Both of you were still holding things close to the chest, afraid to show them and lose everything you had earned.  

Sometimes, you caught Logan simply watching you, wary and concerned, as if he thought you were about to leave him. Other times, when Logan woke in the middle of the night and reached for you, you wondered if he knew it was you or if he still held onto the memory of his wife, seeking her for comfort. Logan had been open and honest with you, but you sometimes got the feeling that he wasn't telling you everything. Some nights, when you couldn't sleep, you would lie awake and watch him, terrified that if given the chance he would leave you in a heartbeat for his old life.  

You always had the feeling like the other shoe was about to drop, so you had taken on the mentality that you were going to enjoy every day you got with him. Which was why you were hellbent on making the perfect dinner and having the perfect dessert all ready to go when he got back home. 

"Shit," you hissed when you started stirring together the ingredients for the pasta sauce. "I forgot one thing," you groaned, glancing over at Laura. "I've got to go out to grab something. Will you keep an eye on this for me? Just make sure it doesn't burn," you instructed her when Laura gifted you with a skeptical look. 

"What if it burns?" Laura wondered, reaching out to take the spoon from you when you handed it to her.  

"Then we'll order takeout," you answered with a shrug of your shoulders. "It won't be a big deal, but I still want to try to get this right," you told her, reaching out to flick her ear. 

Laura turned a glare on you, and you knew if you were anyone else, she would have already brought out her claws. You saw a fond smile take the place of her scowl before she shook her head. "Hurry," she urged you, turning a wary look at the stove.  

"Ten minutes," you promised, reaching out to grab your keys and wallet. "Just going down to the corner store." You saw Laura open her mouth and you knew what she was going to ask. "Yes, I'll get the cookies," you told her, thinking of the chocolate monstrosities she was so obsessed with lately.  

Laura grinned at you, pleased, and cautiously began to stir the sauce.  

You locked the apartment door behind you. You knew Laura was more than capable of taking care of herself and she had already been through hell and back, but you couldn't help but want to protect her in every way you could. She was still a kid, even if she would point out she was seventeen.  

You made it to the tiny market just around the corner from your apartment within four minutes. You were eager to get back and finish dinner. You couldn't wait to see the look on Logan's face when you had dinner all set up and told him that Laura even helped make it. You knew Wade would invite himself to dinner, so you would of course have extra just for him. You knew you wouldn’t be here without him, and while he drove you crazy, you now couldn’t imagine your life without him in it.  

You were a family, fucked up and weird, but full of love.  

You grabbed the cookies Laura wanted and searched for a can of black olives. You caught sight of the spices and started in that direction to see if there was anything extra you wanted to add to the sauce. You figured you had maybe five minutes to get back before Laura insisted she did everything she could to salvage dinner, but maybe you should just order pizza.  

You were reaching out to grab a bottle of parsley flakes when you noticed something pass right in front of you. You startled at the sight of the playing card, faintly glowing pink, as it sailed towards the shelves in front of you.  

You didn't even have time to prepare before the card landed and the shelves exploded. You brought your arms up, trying to shield your face from the shrapnel. The force of the blast was strong enough to throw you back into the shelves behind you. You felt your head connect with the edge of one the shelves and stars exploded in your vision.  

There was a ringing in your ears and the taste of blood in your mouth. Your head felt like it was spinning as you struggled to open your eyes, not even sure when you had closed them.  

You could hear footsteps approaching you and you managed to squint up at the person standing in front of you. Your gaze drifted from his boots to his trench coat and then up to his eyes. They were glowing a faint red.  

"Remy?" You groaned, reaching up to press a hand to your forehead. You blinked a couple of times, trying to make sense of what was going on. You looked at your fingers and they were stained red, blood coating them. Your face was stinging from the bits of shrapnel you hadn’t been able to shield yourself from and the back of your head was aching in a way you had never felt before.  

Remy crouched down in front of you. He reached out and tucked his fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Now, I know we've never met before, so how is it you know my name?" He turned your head one way and then the other, considering you for a brief moment, before he made a thoughtful noise. "Oh, but believe me, we're going to get to know each other real well, bon ami. Just you wait." His eyes were no longer glowing, but there was a devious look in them you didn't like.  

You attempted to sit up, but your vision swam and you felt like you were going to throw up. “What the hell are you doing?” You attempted to ask, but your words were slurred, and you were having a hard time concentrating on him even though he was right in front of you.  

"Let's get you home, hm?" Remy said, gathering you up in his arms. He stood, lifting you with him, and you tried to wriggle out of his hold, but he was clutching you tightly enough that you couldn’t move.  

The last thing you saw was the underside Remy's jaw and the blur of the ceiling tiles above you before darkness swept in to collect you.  

You woke to sunlight that had escaped past the curtains in your bedroom and crept right towards you. It was an unwelcome intrusion and you brought your hand up to shield your eyes.  

You groaned, forcing yourself to sit up, before squinting at your surroundings. Your head was aching, each pound of your heart sending a bolt of pain right behind your eyes. You didn’t remember drinking the night before or even crawling into bed, but it felt like the worst hangover you had ever experienced. 

"Fuck," you grumbled before forcing yourself out of bed. Logan seemed to already be up, and you wondered if he had liked your dinner the night before. There was something wrong, something off, but you didn't know what it was yet. You were having trouble thinking past the pain.  

You walked towards your bedroom door, intent on hunting down the bottle of painkillers you kept in the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. You tried to think about what happened before you fell asleep and finally your memories came back to you in a dizzying rush.  

Making dinner, leaving Laura in charge, and locking the door behind you. Going to the store, a playing card that ending in an explosion, and Remy promising to take you home.  

"I had the weirdest dream," you muttered as you stumbled out into the living room. The pain in your head spiked with every footstep and your mouth was so dry your tongue felt like it was sticking to the roof of your mouth.  

The first thing you noticed was that Logan was sitting at the kitchen table and the second was that he wasn't alone. You froze just a few feet away from the table trying to make sense of what was in front of you.  

Because Logan was there in his usual seat at the table and he had his hand outstretched over the surface. His hand was clutching the stranger's like a lifeline and he looked as if the person in front of him had just saved him from his own personal torment.  

You slowly rounded the table, a twisting feeling of dread in your gut, as you got a look at the stranger.  

It was you.  

Well, not you. She had a scar crossing one of her eyes and her hair was a different color. She carried herself with more confidence, her shoulders not slumped and head held high. She was wearing the same yellow and blue X-Men suit you first saw your Logan in when you were trapped in the Void.  

But she was still undeniably you. Just a variant you could have been in another universe.  

"What?" You felt helpless as you looked to her and then to Logan. Pain had been overtaken by confusion and now you felt like you were going to pass out for an entirely different reason. "What's going on?" 

"My wife," Logan said, finally tearing his gaze away from her to look at you. "She's back. A portal opened up last night and she walked right through it." His voice was filled with incredulous awe, and it felt like there was a knife digging into your chest. Your breath hitched and you tried to push past the feeling being carved out right where your heart resided.  

You didn't think it could get any worse until you noticed the look of pure love and adoration he gifted her. You had only ever seen that look aimed at you and seeing it given so freely to someone else had you clenching your fists at your sides, anger washing over you.  

"So, what?" You snapped, trying and failing to keep the hurt out of your tone. "She's just going to live here now? We'll all be one big happy family?" You didn't want to fight anyone for Logan's attention. Not again. Not after what happened with Jean in your other universe. You couldn't lose again. You wouldn't.  

Logan stared up at you before he finally looked back at his wife. "We're still married," he pointed out, brushing his thumb gently over the wedding ring on his wife's hand. "And she was my first love," he continued, twisting the knife deeper and deeper. "I'm sorry, but I can't leave her again." 

You watched the couple in front of you, frozen in that moment. Hurt and indecision rose within you and you felt trapped.  

"So, what does that mean for me?" Your voice sounded so small and scared that you almost didn't believe it was yours. You had never felt this way with your Logan before and you didn't know what to do.  

Logan finally tore his gaze away from his wife to look at you again.  

"I'm sorry, but now that I have her back...," he trailed off, letting you assume the rest for yourself. "You can stay until you find somewhere else to go," he offered, as if it was any consolation.  

You let out a hollow little laugh as you took a step away from him. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Logan, after everything you had been through together, was giving you up as if you meant nothing to him. The same ache and loneliness you felt back in your original universe was descending on you again. You thought you had put those feelings behind you, but now you were having to confront them again in the worst way.  

Because this Logan had loved you like the other one never had and this one had promised never to hurt you. But here he was, crushing any hope you had that this Logan would be different.  

You forced yourself to turn around, putting your back to them. You couldn't stand to look at them anymore.  

You were faced with Laura standing there in the doorway of the apartment. She was silent, watching you, and you had a sinking feeling in your gut that told you this wouldn't go your way either.  

"Laura, I--," you started as you approached her, not even sure where you would end up. "Do you want to come with me?" Was what you settled on, because evidently you couldn't stay here. You had been through so much with Laura. You had survived the Void together and fought together just to survive. Surely, that had to mean something to her. ‘Don’t leave me all alone,’ was what you wanted to beg, but you didn’t want Logan to have the satisfaction of seeing you brought down to your lowest point.  

Laura took a few steps forward and you wondered if she would meet you in the middle. Instead, she walked past you and stood at the table, joining Logan and his wife. "I can't lose him again," Laura said, echoing your thoughts. Except, Laura could stay and you had to go.  

You saw Logan's wife, the other you, the one he was choosing over you, reach out to flick Laura's ear. Instead of snapping at her, Laura turned a fond, soft smile on the other you and you felt another piece of your heart break.  

That was your thing with Laura and that should have been your smile. Logan's wife had swept in and cleared you out, leaving no room for you.  

You could feel the fight or flight instinct rising within you and you chose to get the hell out of there. It wasn't your home anymore, because someone had filled your role. You were no longer needed.  

You didn't even know where you were going to go, but you somehow found yourself right at Wade's doorstep. You brought your hand up to knock, terror and despair coursing through you.  

Wade answered the door in a suit and tie. You would have asked him what the hell was going on, but he didn't give you a chance to talk. He leaned on the doorframe, considering you with a grimace. "I thought you'd show up here after you found out." 

"You know?" You weren't sure why it felt like such a betrayal, but you always thought Wade would have had your back. Why didn't he track you down and warn you? Why had no one just given you some kind of heads up that you would be completely ousted from the life you had built for yourself with Logan? 

"Sure do, baby bird," Wade confirmed with a quick nod of his head. There was something off in his tone. This didn't feel like the same Wade you had come to know and reluctantly love. This almost felt like a stranger wearing a Wade mask. "I was there when she showed up. Just walked right out of that portal and into Logan's arms like she hasn't been dead for the past who knows how long." 

You hated that you could picture that perfectly, as if Wade's memory was playing out in your head.  

"Yeah, well, it looks like I'm not needed anymore now that he has who he really wants." You felt like an idiot for ever thinking you were more than just a placeholder for Logan's wife. You didn't want to cry in front of Wade, but you could feel the sting of tears in your eyes.  

Wade tilted his head to the side, watching you with an intensity that was almost unnerving. "So, what are you gonna do now?" 

"Can I stay here?" You tried, knowing that you couldn't go back to your apartment. You didn't want to ever step foot in there again, knowing that the bright, happy memories you had created were now tainted with misery.  

Wade brought his foot back, kicking the door to his apartment open enough for you to see Vanessa seated at the table. "No can do," Wade answered with a wince. "You see, I'm trying to win her back over and I'm already sharing a one bedroom apartment with Blind Al, so it's a little cramped around here. But hey, if you join the X-Men, it usually comes with free room and board. They'll take anyone," he got out on a laugh, before he waved his hand. "Well, except for me. You shoot one person," he lamented, shaking his head in disappointment. "Or, hey, I hear Love Island is casting. Might be time to find you a new boo." 

"So," you started, trying to reconcile the fact that you no longer had a home with Logan and now you couldn't find one either with Wade. "I can't stay here," you said, and it was no longer a question, it was just a fact of your new lonely, pathetic existence. 

There was something so off about everything that had happened that day and you were trying to make sense of all of it. You had just spent the night before making a special dinner for your family and now you didn't even have one.  

Everything was happening so fast that you felt like you weren’t even really processing it. Why hadn’t you just stayed at the apartment and fought for Logan? This was your life. Your home, your family, your love. Why were you just giving it all up so easily? You didn’t understand, but now you weren’t even sure you would be able to force yourself to go back. 

"No," Wade admitted, with a sheepish grin. "It's not only Vanessa, you see, but Logan. I mean, Deadpool and Wolverine are a package deal now. There's no breaking up that superhero wet dream team and if I'm harboring his ex? Then that'll just make it more awkward than the time I used his toothbrush on Dogpool. Trust me, he made me regret that one. There are some places those claws of his should not go," he warned with a shudder.  

Hearing Wade refer to you as Logan's ex broke something inside you. You could feel hurt begin to overwhelm you, swiftly replaced by anger. You let out a short, sharp scream of frustration. You didn't even realize you had formed a forcefield around you and pushed out with it until you realized Wade had been knocked several steps back.  

"Y/N--" Wade started, but you turned away from him.  

You didn't want to be placated and you didn't want to deal with anymore of Wade's nonsense. You let yourself go invisible, knowing that it was the only way you would feel safe now.  

You wandered around the neighborhood for hours, trying to figure out where you belonged. You trudged from street to street before unerringly finding your way back to your apartment complex once night fell. You didn't dare go inside, but you stayed out on the sidewalk. People passed by you, never knowing you were even there, and you kept your gaze up on the window that shone brightest in the dark.  

Logan was up there. He was with his wife and Laura and they were a family in their home enjoying a night together. You were no one with nothing and no home to share with anyone. 

You weren't sure why you stayed there for so long, but you thought it had something to do with hope and an inane wish that he would come downstairs and tell you it was all some sick joke. You thought of his promise that he would always find you, even when you were hidden, but that hadn't been true either.  

Logan was happy without you, because he had what he really wanted all along. So, why would he come find you when he didn't even need you anymore? 

Or worse, Logan knew you were down here and just didn't care about you anymore.  

With that revelation, you turned and walked away. There was a swirling mess of thoughts stuck in your head that dredged up the same old insecurities you thought you had shed once and for all.  

You would never be good enough. You were unloved. You didn't matter. You weren't worth anything. 

You had no one.  

You felt tears slide down your cheeks as you aimlessly roamed from place to place. You next found yourself outside the X-Mansion, wondering if you should take Wade's advice and join up with the X-Men. As much as you longed to feel like you belonged somewhere, you didn't think you could go back to saving people with a smile on your face like you weren't slowly withering inside.  

There was a whisper of your name on the air. You glanced over your shoulder, looking to see who called your name, but you found no one. It had been so faint that you might have imagined it, but there was a feeling, an electrified touch, that had briefly set your nerves alight.  

You weren't sure what time it was, but you were exhausted. You found it pathetic and sad that you didn't have anywhere to go. You didn't even have money for a hotel room. All you could think to do was find a park and drop down onto a bench. At the very least, you knew you could protect yourself if anyone tried to attack you.  

You formed a forcefield around you, ignoring the fact that it would only slip away while you slept, and let yourself drift away.  

When you woke, you weren't alone. You jolted in place, suddenly wide awake, and scrambled to sit up. On the bench across from yours, a man was sitting reading a newspaper.  

He quirked an eyebrow at you when he realized he had your attention.  

"I was wondering when you would wake up," he said, lowering the newspaper.  

He had dark eyes and darker hair. He wore a suit with a black trench coat, but the illusion of a businessman was ruined by the combat boots he was wearing. His skin was pale and there was a faint ring of red around his eyes that had you wondering if he was wearing makeup. His appearance, oddly enough, seemed false, but the grin on his face was genuine, if a bit unsettling.  

"Were you watching me?" You couldn't help but wonder, half-torn between becoming invisible to make your escape and staying to get answers.  

"Yes," he answered, unashamed by his actions. "I thought it fascinating that someone would let you stay out here all alone. You don't deserve that, so I stayed to keep watch over you." 

You wanted to tell him you could take care of yourself, but you didn't feel so sure about that anymore. The reminder of your loneliness crept up on you and you could feel doubt settle over you. You were on your own now without a team. No one was going to come save you if you found yourself in trouble. You would simply have to claw your own way out.  

"What's your name?" You decided to ask instead, studying him from across the small concrete path that separated you.  

"Nathaniel," he introduced himself with a smile. "And you are?" 

"Y/N," you returned, with a half-hearted wave.  

"Now, I know we just met, but I do have one thing on my mind," Nathaniel started, leaning in towards you after placing his newspaper on the bench beside him. "What on earth are you doing out here all by yourself?" 

You felt your lips twist to the side in a frown as you bit down on the side of your mouth to keep a lid on the emotions that threatened to boil over at the reminder of the previous day. "I--," you cut yourself off, not sure how to phrase your situation to a stranger without making it seem as if you had completely lost your mind. "I lost my home yesterday," you settled on with a grimace. "My family kicked me out." 

Nathaniel made a sympathetic noise before he stood up. "May I?" He asked, gesturing towards your bench. 

You shrugged your shoulders in answer but moved over to leave him enough space to sit down beside you.  

"In my experience, family is a fickle thing," Nathaniel continued once he was at your side. "People come and go, but you have to be able to stand by yourself and forge your own path once it all falls apart." 

"I don't know if I can do that this time," you whispered, ashamed to admit that you were on the brink of losing whatever control over your emotions you had managed since waking up.  

Nathaniel turned so he could watch you. It was a bit unnerving, but you figured you had no one else for company. A smirk tugged at his lips as he studied you. "You're a fighter," he assured you.  

"Oh?" You wondered, returning his stare. "And how would you know that?" 

His smirk was still in place as he tapped his temple. "I'm psychic," he proclaimed, holding up his fingers and waving them before imitating a ghostly wail.  

You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you and it felt so wrong.  

"There we go," Nathaniel murmured with a pleased smile. "Look, I know you don't know me, but how about a drink? Coffee?" He prompted, moving to stand and holding out a hand to you.  

You didn't want to wallow in your misery on the park bench all by yourself and you figured Nathaniel made a decent enough distraction. "You're paying," you told him, reluctantly grabbing his hand and letting him help you up. "Only because I don't have any money." 

Nathaniel laughed, the sound briefly jarring to you, and cocked his head to the side. "In that case, I'll buy you breakfast too." 

You found yourself in a diner booth sitting across from Nathaniel. He offered to buy you whatever you wanted, but you settled for a cup of coffee and a stack of pancakes. You weren't all that hungry and you couldn't get your mind off Logan. You wondered what he was doing right at that moment and then you dashed the thought. He was probably happy with his wife and Laura and had forgotten all about you.  

"Hey," Nathaniel called, getting your attention. "Where did you go?" 

You shook your head, biting your lip to distract yourself.  

"Thinking about your family?" He prompted, shooting you a wary look. "I know I'm a stranger and it's none of my business, but do you want to tell me what happened? Maybe I can offer some perspective." 

You scowled down at your pancakes, pushing them halfheartedly around the plate with a fork. You glanced around the diner, spotting a blonde woman wearing a white suit watching you curiously from a booth not far from yours. You shook your head at Nathaniel, not wanting anyone to overhear you.  

"Let's get out of here," you told him, pushing yourself out of the booth. "I could use a walk to clear my head." 

"Alright," Nathaniel readily agreed, standing as well. While he placed a twenty on the table, you made for the door.  

There was that whisper again in the air that had you looking over your shoulder. Someone was calling your name, but you didn't see anyone you recognized. No one was even looking at you except for Nathaniel who was slowly approaching you.  

"You okay?" Nathaniel interrupted, stealing your attention away.  

"Yeah," you muttered, briefly nodding your head. "Just c'mon," you said, barely waiting for Nathaniel to follow you before you pushed through the door and walked outside.  

You didn't think you would be able to confide in a total stranger, but there was something strangely freeing about unloading all the burdens on your mind to someone who didn't know anything about you. You even managed to drop the mutant bomb on him and were surprised when Nathaniel only took it in stride, as if he had expected all along you weren’t quite normal. He mostly seemed focused on what you told him about your family and how you lost them all in one fell swoop.  

"Sounds like you're better off without them," Nathaniel mused. "Anyone who would let you go like that is an idiot." 

"Maybe," you begrudgingly agreed. You didn't think it was possible, but Nathaniel had managed to make you feel better. Maybe letting out all your worries had briefly unburdened you. Or maybe since you lost everyone, you had been desperate to hear someone tell you it wasn’t your fault.  

"They're all ungrateful idiots," Nathaniel continued. "You're special," he told you. "And you deserve more." 

His tone brooked no argument, but you were a little thrown off by how serious he seemed.  

"I don't know what I'm going to do now," you deflected, scowling down at your hands. "I don't have anyone or anywhere to go. And I've just spent the day with a stranger telling him my whole pathetic sob story." 

"I'm not a stranger anymore," Nathaniel offered with a grin. "You know my name and everything." 

"I know literally nothing else about you," you pointed out. You were starting to feel apprehensive about trusting someone you didn't even know. Your head was beginning to hurt and you could feel your hands trembling. You weren't sure why panic had hit you all at once, but you could feel your heart beating overtime in your chest and a cold sweat begin to break out along your skin. You were beginning to hyperventilate, confused and overwhelmed, when Nathaniel took you by the shoulders and forced you to look into his eyes.  

"Hey, it's all going to be okay. Just trust me, alright? Y/N, you with me?"  

You tried to focus on Nathaniel, but there was a ringing in your ears and you swore someone else was trying to get your attention. You shook your head, trying to keep yourself from falling right into a spiral. You forced yourself to take slow, deep breaths, realizing that Nathaniel was also taking them, trying to coach you through your anxiety attack.  

You closed your eyes once you finally felt like you could stand on your own two feet without freaking out. You took a moment to center yourself before allowing yourself to open your eyes again.  

"Thanks," you whispered, nodding at him when he shot you a skeptical look. "I'm fine. I'll be fine," you claimed, even though you knew it was a lie. You were tired of loving and losing. Your heart ached for Logan and you knew that you would never recover from losing him. But Nathaniel, odd as he was, had managed to help you feel like maybe you didn't have to spend the rest of your existence completely alone.  

"I know you will," Nathaniel confirmed with another one of his smiles. "Because you're coming home with me." 

You stared at Nathaniel, waiting for the punchline, but it never came. "I could be a serial killer," you warned him with a scoff. "And you're inviting me into your home?" 

Nathaniel shrugged his shoulders, a smirk on his face. "I'm not scared of you." 

He sounded so sure of himself that you couldn't help the disbelieving laugh that escaped you. "You're completely insane, aren't you?" 

"So, is that a yes?" Nathaniel wondered, holding his hand out to you and waiting for you to take it. "Will you join me?" 

You stared down at his hand for a beat too long to be socially acceptable. It felt like you were about to make a deal with the devil, but Nathaniel had been nothing but kind. He had given you a shoulder to cry on and was now giving you a place to go so you wouldn’t have to spend another night on a park bench. 

You knew it was probably a bad idea, but you still found yourself reaching out to take his hand.  

"Okay," you reluctantly agreed. "I'll go with you." 

You thought it would be weird once you found yourself in Nathaniel's apartment, but it felt oddly familiar. He had a guest room that he had designated as yours and made sure you could take whatever you wanted from the fridge. You didn't know how to return his kindness, but you knew you would have to find a way.  

Nathaniel had gone out to get dinner while you waited on his couch, idly flipping through channels. You were starting to doze off, exhausted, when you heard someone calling for you.  

You squinted at the television, wondering if you were hearing things, when it happened again. You had stopped on a news report, catching sight of the woman from the diner. You assumed she was a news anchor, but the way she was looking at the camera gave you the eerie sensation that she was somehow actually watching you. When her gaze drifted over, as if looking at someone behind you, you rushed to turn off the television. 

You cautiously glanced over your shoulder, half-expecting to see someone standing there. But you were alone.  

 “Y/N,” the voice called again. It was faint, like they were outside, but close enough for you to hear.  

“What the fuck is happening?” You growled, growing frustrated. “Where are you?” 

You stood, wondering if you should go looking for whoever was trying to reach you, when Nathaniel walked into the apartment. He held up the bag of takeout and nodded towards the kitchen table.  

"Ready to eat?" 

Time dragged on as days and weeks passed. You still thought of Logan practically every waking moment, but Nathaniel had done his best to distract you.  

You were grateful for him, because you didn't know how you would have lived without someone there to fill the void in your life.  

You weren't sure what day it was or even how long had passed since you last saw Logan, but you knew that you had started to heal.  

"Sometimes," Nathaniel told you once you voiced that thought to him. "You have to let something break so you can piece it back together to get something new. To get what you truly want. What is it that you want, Y/N?" Nathaniel studied you with the same unnerving intensity he always did and you hated to admit that you were finding it less weird each time it happened.  

Logan was the first thought that came to your mind. You wanted Logan and you wanted your home and you wanted your family. You wanted to show Laura how to cook and you wanted to follow Wade into crazy situations, knowing that he would have your back just like you had his back. You wanted to crawl into bed with Logan at the end of each day knowing that you were wanted and cherished.  

Nathaniel made a disappointed noise before he shook his head. "There's no going back," he told you "I'm sorry, but it's just not going to happen." 

You didn't like the way he sounded so sure of himself. Nathaniel didn't know Logan and he didn't even really know you. You had spent weeks with him, but years of your life had been devoted to a Logan. Your Logan had been better, you knew it, so maybe you were the one who wasn't worthy.  

Nathaniel made a tsking noise before he reached out. He wrapped his hand lightly along the underside of your jaw, his thumb pressed to the other side of your neck over your pulse point. He considered you for a long moment, as if he was searching for something.  

"He left you," Nathaniel reminded you, as if it hadn't been eating you up inside since it happened. "You are special. You deserve to be cherished," he continued, and you started to worry about the potentially romantic direction he was going with his lecture. A brief smile flitted across his face, as if he could read your mind, before his expression slipped back towards something more serious. "You're lost and you're broken," he added, gently sweeping his thumb over your pulse point. "Let me put the pieces back together." 

You weren't even sure if you trusted Nathaniel, but you had spent so long hurting that you were tempted to say yes.  

You suddenly felt like someone had brushed their hand over the back of your head and you heard someone call your name. It was the same voice as before and you knew better than to look for someone you wouldn't find. But Nathaniel's eyes strayed just over your shoulder, as if he had heard it too. There was a brief flicker of irritation on his face before he gifted you with a sincere smile.  

"I've got you," he promised. "No one is ever going to get near you again." 

"Okay," you finally agreed, if only because you were curious about what he had in mind. You also couldn't deny that you were just so desperate to not fall back into that desolate pit of isolation you had begun to dig for yourself. Nathaniel saw you and he wanted you. There wasn't much else you felt like you could ask for now.  

And if Nathaniel's sharp smile sent a shiver through you for all the wrong reasons, then you were the only one who had to know about that.  

Nathaniel seemed insistent that in order to move on, you would have to make yourself stronger. To him, that seemed to mean training day and night, improving upon your power in new and terrifying ways.  

You spent hours, days, weeks, stretching the limits of your power. Your power had always been meant as a defense, to protect and contain, but now you wanted to wield it as a weapon.  

Your progress felt excruciatingly slow, but you had to admit that you were pleased with the results. It started simple enough with just a thought. You wanted your forcefields to hurt. The barriers you would have erected to protect yourself should also be used to hurt anyone who dared get too close.   

Nathaniel had rented out an abandoned location in a strip mall and set up targets for you to use. More often than not, he was watching you, as if he was waiting for something. Other times, he seemed content to leave you alone, trusting you would have something new to show him when he returned.  

You practiced on the targets, first forming forcefields around your fists and breaking anything that stood in your way. Nothing held up to them and you started growing bored of that tactic. You started to think that if you could form a forcefield, then it could be any shape you wanted. Spikes, swords, knives all began to adorn the edges of your forcefields, facing out and ready to maim anything that was in the way.  

Nathaniel seemed eager when you first formed a forcefield that was outlined with spikes and used it to repeatedly stab holes into the brick fence that lined the back of the property. You were sure he was never going to get his deposit back, but he didn't even seem to care. He only encouraged you to think bigger and do more.  

With time, you were even able to produce two forcefields at once. It was exhausting and drained all your energy, but you liked the idea of protecting yourself while also using a different forcefield to hurt an attacker. From there, it was only natural to think of taking a forcefield, forming it around an enemy, and turning the projected spikes inward, letting them impale your target without a way to escape.  

You felt stronger and invulnerable. You had never thought to test your power like this, and the feeling was nearly intoxicating. Logan and Laura and Wade were still on your mind, but now you knew that you didn’t need them. Like Nathaniel told you, you could stand on your own and forge your own path ahead.  

No one would hold you back now.  

The first time you felt the full force of your own power was when Nathaniel was taunting you into a reaction.  

"He doesn't care about you anymore. He's moved on with the true love of his life and you are nothing to him. You don't need him anymore. You can show him that you're better off without him." 

There were targets surrounding you, but you didn't care about them. All you could think about was Logan and the stupid lovelorn look on his face as he looked at his wife. He looked like he had been saved. Saved from you and whatever pathetic existence he was ready to settle for in her absence. You deserved better and you wanted to rip that stupid look right off his face. You wanted to make him and her regret it.  

You let out a scream of frustration, punching out with your forcefield at one of the targets, but it got carried away from you. All the targets snapped back, taken out at once from the blast. It carried farther out, nearly ripping the door off its hinges and shattering the front windows.  

You looked at Nathaniel, where he was splayed on the floor, staring up at you in awe.  

"You did it," he praised as he began to push himself to his feet. You crossed over towards him, holding out your hand to help get him up off the floor. “I knew you could do it.” 

"What was that?" You wondered, breathless and ecstatic. Your power had never quite felt like that before. You wanted to try it again, the rush of it addicting. If you could hone that and strengthen it, then you could use it on multiple enemies at once. You could become nearly unstoppable.   

"A repulsion field," Nathaniel answered, reaching out to rest a hand on your shoulder. "With time, I expect you'll be able to direct it and control it. You’ll be able to take out a whole city if you want." 

"Shit," you breathed, still shocked that you had managed something like that. "I didn't think I could use my power in that way. It was...exciting," you decided with a grin at Nathaniel.  

"I told you that you're special," he reminded you. "I knew you had that in you all along." 

"Thank you," you found yourself saying. You considered the targets on the floor and wondered if there would be any more use in them.  

"I have extras," Nathaniel assured you. "Want to try again?" 

You felt a pleased little thrill shoot through you at the thought. "Fuck yes," you answered.  

A week passed since you found out about the extra perk your power allowed you. You felt more confident and assured of yourself. Gone was the self-doubt and in its place was a feeling that you could defeat anyone or anything.  

You were walking to the store with Nathaniel, thinking about what you might want to make for dinner. Nathaniel was being unusually quiet and leaving you alone to your thoughts. You wondered if something was wrong, but then you spotted her.  

It was you. The other you. She was alone. No Logan or Laura or Wade in her vicinity.  

You couldn't help the way you froze on the sidewalk or the fury that rose up swiftly enough you felt nearly sick with it.  

She was to blame for everything. She had stolen your life away from you and now she got to be happy while you spent the rest of your life wanting someone you would never have again.  

"Is that her?" Nathaniel asked, rounding back to standing at your side. "The one who stole your life from you?" 

You nodded your head, attempting to keep a lid on your anger.  

"Why don't you make her regret it?" 

The idea was so simple, but so damn tempting. You could just imagine the look on her face when she realized she was incredibly outmatched now. You could destroy her within seconds and she would never be able to stop you. 

You knew it wasn't something you should entertain. You had lived your whole life as a hero. There was a line you would have never dared to cross before but after everything that had happened, you were starting to realize that line was blurred beyond recognition. As far as you were concerned, she had stolen your life from you, and it was only right that she realized what a mistake that had been.  

"You're better than her now. Stronger," Nathaniel continued, leaning in closer to you. "She can't do half of what you can. Show her what you've learned." 

"I don't know," you tried to deflect. You wanted your revenge, but there was still a tiny voice in your head saying it wasn’t right. It wasn’t what you were supposed to do. 

"Aren't you tired?" Nathaniel hissed, his hand coming up to clutch your shoulder in a near-painful grip. "Tired of being the doormat. The hero. The martyr. Don't let them get away with it. Don't let her walk away." 

You didn't even realize you had made up your mind until you were walking up to the other you. She was checking out a display of plants that had been left outside of the market for customers to choose, but she seemed to sense your approach, because she turned to consider you.  

You weren't sure what she saw when she looked at you, but her eyes went wide with fear, and she immediately pulled up a forcefield. You stalked forward, intent on your target. You didn't care if anyone was watching, because you felt like you were completely justified in your actions.  

You passed right through her forcefield and pushed her back. She fell to the ground, staring up at you in terror. You pulled your fist back, forming your own forcefield around it. You let spikes form along the outside facing towards her. All you had to do was bring it down onto her face. It would be a killing blow, and you would never have to think about her again. Logan would lose the love of his life, but maybe he would come back to you. Maybe you could return to him stronger, better, and without any more competition.  

For a moment, as you looked right into her face, it was like gazing into a mirror. The scar was gone, her hair was the same as yours, and you were wearing similar clothes. She looked just like you.  

You were convinced that she was you.  

And that made you pull back, horrified at what you had almost done.  

Her eyes were closed, ready for a blow that you weren't capable of dealing any longer.  

"I'm sorry," you whispered before stepping away, propelling yourself right out of her forcefield.  

"Y/N?" Nathaniel called, pulling your attention towards him. "What are you doing? She's right there. Kill her," he demanded, his lips pulling back in a sneer.  

You shook your head, feeling something indescribable but ultimately terrified swell within you. What had you become? What had Nathaniel done to you? You had let him so far into your head that you had almost done something unspeakable.  

You made yourself go invisible before you took off running. You didn't know where you were going or where you would even hide, but you knew that you needed to get away from Nathaniel. He had pushed you to do more, be more, and you had never once stopped to think about which road you were heading down and whether it would lead you right to the point of no return.  

You could hear Nathaniel yelling for you to stop and come back, but you didn't listen. You wanted to get away from him and just think. It felt like you had let him take up residence in your head and now you wanted to figure out how the hell to evict him.  

You ran until you felt like you were going to collapse. You finally stopped outside of a library. You rushed inside, catching a glimpse of the news anchor flipping through a book as you went right for the back corner.  Two bookshelves met there and you sank right to the floor in front of them. You dropped your head into your hands and forced yourself to take deep breaths.  

"Y/N," you heard someone call. It wasn't Nathaniel and it wasn't anyone else you immediately recognized. But it was familiar. They had been trying to get your attention all along.  

"What," you snapped, already feeling like you were on the verge of crumbling. Nathaniel had been right that you were broken, but who was going to put the pieces back together this time? It felt like Nathaniel had managed to piece them back together all wrong and you didn't even feel like yourself anymore.  

"Y/N," the voice called again.  

You closed your eyes and focused on the voice. You reached out for it, desperate for any sort of lifeline. It was a spark right at the back of your mind. You rushed to meet it, eager to figure out who had been trying to talk to you.  

"My name is Charles Xavier."  

You startled, nearly letting the tenuous connection between you and Charles drop, but finally throwing everything you had towards it.  

"This world is a lie," Charles continued once he realized you could hear him. "Do not let him break you. They're coming to find you." 

"Who?" You couldn't help but ask, hope and fear clashing inside you, threatening to overwhelm you.  

"A rather odd group of saviors," Charles answered, a hint of amusement clear in his words. "But stay strong and do what you can to break free of his hold. He has a way to keep me out, so once he finds you, I’m afraid I won’t be much help to you. Just hold on until they get there." 

You didn't know how you were going to get yourself out. You were starting to think it was hopeless, because you hadn’t even realized you were trapped in the first place. The more you thought about it, though, the more obvious it became that something had been wrong since the morning you woke up and Logan’s wife was sitting in your kitchen. The fact that she had come back from the dead, Logan’s quick dismissal of you, Laura and Wade both turning their backs on you. Nathaniel’s convenient timing and the way he watched you as if you were nothing more than an experiment for him. A pet mutant he could poke and prod and play with while you were none the wiser.   

“Who’s coming to find me?” You didn’t dare to assume that you were worth the rescue, but you couldn’t help yourself. You had to know. You had to hold onto the one little spark of hope you could feel burning defiantly inside you.  

For one terrifying moment, your mind was still, and you felt crushingly alone. Just when you thought you had been abandoned, Charles left you with one final word.  

"Logan." 

Author's Note: There will be a fourth chapter! Did I have you going for a while there? I felt so evil writing this. I truly did. If you liked this, please let me know. Not to sound needy, but comments/reblogs/etc. literally fuel me to write more and inspire me so much to keep coming up with fun stuff. Thank you to everyone who has shown this series any support! Also, if you would like to be added/removed from the taglist, just let me know!

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I wanted you to be my first ♡

Short thirst of their first time with f!reader!

Warnings: 18+ / MDNI / suggestive / Ninja guys are 20-21 and so is reader / general verses leaned a bit towards Bayverse / overall pretty soft

He's supposed to be in control, know the rules, tame the game... he's supposed to, but this is something so very new, and so exhilarating he scarcely thinks straight. 

"I've never done this before," you pant after breaking the kiss, slipping a ghostly touch down his shell. 

Leo bites down a groan. Your eyes are glossy and your lips swollen, puffy from making out. It doesn't seem fair to keep playing cool.

“Well, neither have I,” he admits, averting his gaze. His dick twitches, pleading him to grind on you, but he refrains.

Gently, your hands cup his cheeks as you make him turn. The heat in his face is lovely and evident. "Let's try together. Here, touch me."  

Be gentle, he thinks. Slow, not too fast, don't scare her. Don't hurt her… 

"Fuck, like that," you breathe, nails digging into his shell, scratching. 

He groans near your throat, and the sound echoes on the crock of your neck, causing you to clench. He moans at the feeling. 

"Doesn’t hurt- no more?” 

“No, no I’m f-fine,” you barely say before closing your eyes, allowing the slow heat in your core to settle, filling you. "Move."

Raphael growls, using all the self-control he's got to refrain from thrusting too harshly. He pulls you toward his plastron, hugging you back, your legs open further to accommodate him. So close like this, you feel complete as much as he does. 

“Shit, doll, you’re so tight,” Raph manages right after a soft groan. “It feels so good."

You're grinding on top of him, arms around his neck. The soft beat of your heart is intimately snug to him. The soft mutters of little moans pour into your mouth as you drink them.

"I want to go further tonight," you whisper, forehead over his own.

Donatello swallows hard. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Are you?" 

Donnie adjusts his glasses, nervously. "Yes," he breathes, perhaps a bit too desperate. "but- but we can stop anytime if you change your mind."

Your lips curl upright, hands cupping his cheeks. "I love you,"

"Tell me if it hurts," Mikey asks as the lines with you. 

After some tentative rubs, he slips in, slowly. Your breath hitches, hand fisting the covers. He's big, a bit too much. 

"Should I stop? You can tell me, it's okay."

It brings a smile to your face. "I'm good, keep going." 

Mikey stares at you just enough to make sure you mean it before thrusting in. "Relax, close your eyes," 

His lips graze your cheek. He did a fine job preparing you but it still stings. Can't be helped, you suppose, just dealt with. You breathe, allowing your body to adjust to his size. 

"I'm gonna make you feel so good... so- mn, you're tight."

"Hurts?" you rush, worriedly.

"No," Mikey breathes, trying his best not to come just by the warmth of your walls. "No, it's- it's so good, angel. You feel so good,"

[thewinchestah]

"Chega de Saudade" - Alastor X Reader fic

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader.

Summary: When Alastor breaks into the V's building seven years later he expects to find a lot of things, lot of obnoxious, enraging, tacky things. He did not expect to find you. The Radio Demon does not take betrayl lightly and you have to live with the consequences of selling your soul to his worst enemy. Better yet, you have to live with the consequences of selling your soul to Vox and Alastor finding out. The soul you sold because Alastor left you for 7 years. Safe to say, it's a mess. A pretty, angsty, dark and delicious mess.

Warnings: Alastor is in Hell for a reason,general hellish violence,general hellish creepiness,eventual smut, i carioca coded valentino bc i can and bc he is very carioca sorry everyone,blackmail, Soul Selling, author is really invested in politics and decided to micromanage hazbin hotel canon, Corruption, Extortion, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, but nothing too explicit,mature themes in general, canon divergence, Not Canon Compliant, Eventual Smut, Alastor gets insane in this one you've been warned, fear play, Possessive Behavior, posessive sex, big bad radio demon is gonna fuck up the guy who stole his girl and will make it everyone's problem, Reader-Insert,no y/n,no beta we die like men here, i feel bad for tagging vox in this fic cause i think it's a disservice i really hate him and i make it clear so vox stans be warned, it's hell i hope y'all remeber ethics are fluid, posessive!Alastor, unhinged!Alastor, Isane!Alastor

Taglist: honestly only my queen @jyoongim i have no credibility to tag anyone anymore after being away for so long. If you wanna be tagged on future updates just let me know!

A/N:HI HEY BUNNY ANON IF YOU ARE STILL HERE THIS ONE FOR YOU!! Hiii everyone guess who's back. I had this fic cooking for a while now, actually i had a lot of writing cooking but in a very Ao3 author fashion a lot happened. You see i was on this writing streak and then my 15yo dog died while i was out of state. I had to go back on anti depressants and take a sabbatical. I got a new puppy and she's the light of my life. Got super sick, won a horse show. My first plan for this fic was having the first 3 chapters done and ready for debuting together because i always feel i'm lacking when i show up with only one chapter lol. After a while i realised i needed to get this first chapter out too see the light of day if i wanted to write again so here it is. This fic is a bit different from my other Alastor fics and i have a rough outline of 5 chapters so i think this beast will be more than 20k words long for sure. I decided to get a little deeper into Hell's politics and all the "no one ever thought of using heavenly weapons against hell even tough Hell's ancient and the best worst of humanity and demonkind is here". I call that bullshit sorry i'm brazilian i'm well versed in shady politicians and shady politics and unfortunatly, dear reader, you are in for this ride too. This fic kicks off right after "Stayed Gone". Also did i mention i'm brazilian and that my works are heavily inspired by brazilian media. This entire fic was inspired by one of my favourite songs of all time "Chega de saudade". And let's be real, Alastor and bossa nova are the perfect match. So yeah, english is not my first language and this isn't beta'd so sorry for any confusion or mistakes. Thank you so so much for reading my fics and always leaving the most kind beautiful and heartwarming feedback. I hope i can still deliver a nice story to my darling readers.

Click here for my other fics.

CHAPTER ONE: chega de saudade a realidade é que sem ela não pode ser.

In the first year you were calm and collected. There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation to why he is gone. Is he even gone, gone? He’s coming home soon, you can feel it. 

In the second year you convinced yourself there were signs everyone explaining why he was gone and when he was coming back, you were just too oblivious to them before. But everything can be a sign when you are delusional.

In the third year you cried so much you felt you were constantly drowning. You barely left home and some thought you were gone too. Gone to him.

In the fourth year you finally gave in and took the deal. Lack of self-preservation and machiavellian schemes working together to create a trap for him. He would come home out of anger, ire. But you can't outfox the fox.

In the fifth year you decided to scour hell and beyond after him. You went to places just to taunt him. Paranoia became your best friend, blood sweat and tears as you repeat “This time it will work, I'm sure of it”. Can a lie be said so many times it becomes the truth?

In the sixth year you accept defeat. You buried him deep and went about like he never existed in the first place. Isn’t it mystifying how this city screams his name?

It’s the seventh year now. The alarm on your phone rings and rings and you feel like scratching your face off. It’s time to meet your damned executioner.

Rolling out of bed you open the curtains to let some light in. The penthouse from the V’s building has a great view of Pentagram City, looking down you get the feeling of dystopian sci-fi that is so characteristic of the technology district. Limelights, digital outdoors, and big opulent, oppressing screens greet you like a constellation of dead stars, long distorted from their original purpose and form. 

You follow processional routine as you get ready. Choose a beautiful dress, put on make-up, and do your hair. It all feels like preparation for a sacrifice. One thing you learned from Alastor is that appearances are the best strategy and you intend to greet your handmade battlefield like a roman legion. 

Alastor. Even thinking of his name hurts, especially today when you need to face the consequences of your actions, the consequences of his actions. He is gone, he left you. And now Vox owns your soul. You blame your fall from grace entirely on him, he forced your hand, he made you do it. Out of desperation, out of defiance, you sold your soul to Vox so he would come back and save you, so he would come back out of hatred, anger and ire to tell how foolish you were, how betrayed he felt.

Betrayal. Selling your soul to his sworn arch enemy should be treason worthy of him dropping anything he was doing to come and punish you, to address you. You just wanted to get a reaction out of him, proof that he still cared. That he didn’t just get bored of the empire of terror he fought so hard to build in Hell. That he didn’t, deep down, just disregard you like a shiny novelty, to be left when it got old. 

You dry the persistent tears that insist on falling with clinical coldness. You are past feeling sad now, you don’t even feel angry anymore. You are past any emotion really, you just want to get this over with and get back home.

You went about your deal with Vox in many different ways, sometimes you felt like it was a good alliance, a slap on Alastor’s face. A side quest to gather as much information from the V’s inner circle, a social experiment. The truth is, during these past almost four years you were a mental gymnastics pro to justify your new arrangements. The cognitive dissonance required to live with the decision of being forever tied to Vox was an herculean task and boy he didn’t make it any easier on you. He would never be as refined as Alastor when it came to torture but there’s something about the coldness and calculated reality of the television business that was it’s own type of Dante’s inferno.

As soon as he got word of Alastor’s disappearance the TV overlord was on your scent, and he wasn’t shy about it either. You dodged him and led him on for almost four full years before finally giving in, everything was more or less under control during the early years of Alastor’s disappearance. 

Until you saw the angel army leaving.

  Death and gore were all around you. The sky rained blood. You couldn’t breathe. You tried to take a step forward only to realize you were knee-deep in demon blood. Adam was particularly ruthless this time, he seemed to have realized the unbalance in Hell’s power structure with one of the most prolific demon overlord’s absence and took full advantage of it. You choked on the sulfur filled air while the portal closed and Adam threw a last middle finger at the Pride Ring. A clawed hand offered you support as you were about to fall, your heart skipped a beat, for a split second you felt elation. In that split second a thousand thoughts, four years of misery and confusion passed through your mind like a movie. You were sure this was Alastor, showing up after the unprecedented carnage of today’s reaping. With the next heartbeat came the delivery of the most cruel reminder: the hand reaching for you was Vox’s. Alastor doesn’t care about anything anymore, not even losing territory. 

The TV overlord was covered in thick, red blood and looked vindicated, a wide chesire’s cat grin on his face. Baptized in carnage, Vox had finally triumphed for the V’s.The V’s were now a force to be reckoned with in Hell, there’s no argument to be made.  A good chunk of Alastor’s territory was now under their control, and everything that came with it too. Including you. 

“My darling doe, be careful, we can’t have you hurt after the battle is won can we?” 

Darling doe.

You threw up at the casual cruelty of the name Alastor called you with such affection being desecrated by Vox. He still supported you as you spilled your guts, you’d blame it on the nerves, the adrenaline, the reeking smell of death. Not on the fact that you knew he finally won, that the thing that broke you was to hear your name like that, on your lover archenemy’s lips. After that it happened. You sold your soul to vox. Of course he coerced you into it, and you were so mad with grief and betrayal that you felt like betraying Alastor back was the just thing to do. Pettiness and paradoxical hope dripping from your lips as the whole thing was done. 

Every year this same flashback assaulted your mind as you got ready to meet Vox on the anniversary of your deal. It never went past the look you gave those pixelated eyes as he held you on that barren land, stopping right there when you made the decision that finalized your ruin. You still wouldn’t, couldn't face what really went down when you formalized your deal with Vox. Those memories were suppressed and tucked in under layers and layers of regret and self-hatred. 

You gave yourself a final look in the mirror. No makeup smudging this time, you were getting good at numbing your feelings. Just a few tears, no more sobbing.

The yearly meeting with the V’s after the extermination was the perfect cover actually, everything was done in a way that it seemed like you were all cooperating. After all, you did hold a very good knowledge of the inner workings of Alastor’s deals, subordinates and territory. You knew who the V’s could “call in favours” and how to keep the peace. Or as close to peace as peace came when an abrupt power transition happened in Hell. You were a valuable asset to anyone really. Articulated in politics, masterful at the art of persuasion, kind, soft, charismatic, assertive, all in perfect balance, and frankly, breathtakingly beautiful. It wasn’t without reason that Alastor fell for you and that you became his most trusted advisor. You and Rosie were able to conceal his absence and manage his affairs for good two years and the better part of the third without raising any suspicion. Of course, the bigger they are the harder they fall and now you were walking down the corridor of the V’s building carrying a bulk of important intel that would dictate the fate of the Overlord power structure for the next year, at least. 

The hallways of the building changed a lot since you first walked them. As the V’s grew in power, the building grew in grandeur. It was now an imposing beast, looming over Pentagram City. Modern corporate architecture that incorporated the savage capitalism of Vox Tech. Savage, cold, sterile, overbearing that’s how being inside the lair of Hell’s most up and coming trio felt. The tall ceilings and big glass windows were exactly what you would expect of a broadcasting network and silicon valley Big Tech company combined. As an esteemed guest, you got the privilege of staying in the coveted penthouses, with someone to attend to your every wish and demand. You also got an idea that Vox went a little extra with your treatment as a form of flirtation, he has been trying to convince you into moving in for a while, every time you stayed in, your usual penthouse had some shiny new thing that was  made just for you, as he repeatedly emphasized. 

This year’s token of affection was a makeup mirror-gadget-thingy, that looked out of a Totally Spies episode. You had to admit to yourself that this was way more thoughtful and useful than the gifts from the previous years. The thing was cute, practical and would come in handy, which was a big improvement. Vox had tried to sway you with all types of guns and high tech devices in vain. Well, there was also that embarrassing stance with the wire flowers with a hidden recording device. Needless to say that after that entire debacle Vox learned that he may own your soul but you weren’t a damsel in distress and you would reinforce your side of the bargain if he went too far. 

You reached the elevator and went in, pushing the button for your destination. 

The earlier you start this the earlier it is over, you remind yourself.

The panoramic elevator descended to the well guarded conference room, the guards didn’t bat an eye to you entering. You realized you were becoming a familiar face around here, that made you dread what’s ahead of you even more.

“There she is! Hello princesa, I missed that pretty face!” Valentino greets you. He’s the only one inside, sitting on the edge of the table.  Well, that’s unusual… you think. Vox was always the first to get to the post-extermination meetings, plus he always gave you a slightly early timetable so he could have some alone time with you. Something must be going on.

“Hey Valentino, it’s nice to see you too! What gossip do you have for me today?” you give your best chirpy tone to the love moth. Look, you know how bad Valentino is, he is despicable really, even to your standards. But ethics are fluid, to say the  least, in Hell. The acclaimed porn king was surprisingly engaging to talk to. He was fun and actually treated you like a person, which was paradoxical in itself, considering how infamous he is for exploiting and commodifying souls. You drove yourself mad with theories of possible agendas behind Valentino’s kindness towards you, but it was the simplest of answers really, for some reason Valentino liked you and he never denied himself of what he liked.

“You have no idea! We have a lot to catch up on, did I tell you about that bitch who was trying to spy on us?” a set arms gestures to you to sit down next to him. The next 10 minutes are spent talking frivolities with the moth. You’re not complaining, it's nice to get your mind off this dreadful day and you don’t get many. 

Valentino, as always, has a lot to say, little goes on in Hell without him knowing who, what, where and why. Information, gossip, rumors, facts, if a single out of context word can be weaponized  you better be aware that he knows. Pentagram city can be divided into districts and ruled by lots of different overlords, still, Valentino’s intricate web of influence and coercion stretches across all territories. Another poor soul manifests here and goes somewhere they should not be, talk to someone they should not talk to, discover something they should never know. All cases of “wrong place at the wrong time” are happily solved by a large sum of money from the moth and suddenly another thread is weaved into his web of knowledge, another secret  made his. Valentino doesn’t operate like most Overlords and that’s where his power  lies. He bribed and fucked his way into every major circle, every  overlord’s inner circle, Hell’s best kept secret. If you were anyone in the hellish afterlife Valentino either fucked you or fucked someone very close to you. 

Knowledge is power, and Hell’s gossip girl was proof of it.

You swallowed a lump you didn’t know existed, hearing the moth talk about how things changed in a matter of hours during the early post-war made you even more aware of the severity of the intel you were carrying. It was earth shattering (no pun intended) information. 

Angels can be hurt. Angels can be killed. That meant a completely different way of existing in the afterlife, if this information goes public, the consequences are unpredictable and dire.

You don’t feel excitement knowing you technically can fight back, you feel pure dread.

To be completely honest, you feel like these “news” are not really news. You were pretty acquainted with politics back on Earth and this whole “omg no one knew about this! even though this was staring us right on your faces! is total bullshit. Hell is ancient, the exterminations are not a new thing, and there are some pretty smart people down here. To think that millenia after millenia masters of torture and skilled killers never thought of using heaven’s own firepower against them is wishful thinking at best. Sure, maybe after a few generations most sinners, even those who have power, may have been kept out of the loop about the chick in the holy army’s armor… but not knowing this at all just feels like a pretty convenient case of collective amnesia. 

Convenient, that’s exactly what this is. It’s brutal, but that’s Hell. A scheduled massacre is a blessing to those who rule to maintain, reinforce and extend their power. And if you get lucky enough, empires will fall and you will make your move. 

Vini Vidi Vici, that’s all you need to know about how Hell's politics work. 

It’s true that with every massacre the Angel Army gets more and more brutal and unhinged. What was once justified as righteous mercy killings to stabilize the ever growing hellish population now is just a display of cruelty, these angels kill for sport. There have been rumors floating around of how the disproportional annihilation tactics are preparation for something bigger for a while now , and with the demonic royal families either operating totally off Pride Ring or being completely MIA, it is no wonder those influential enough are starting to get restless. 

And that ties back to your first point, the thing that got you picking the skin around your nails while Valentino gossips. There’s a reason why this is being revealed now, you know how creating a narrative works, a few smart words and ideas become beasts of its own. A beast of its own that will tear anything on its way with the right fuel. The V’s have fuel to spare. Whose interest is that this information stayed hidden? Whose interest is that this information was allowed to be shared now? 

Hell is constructed by layers and layers of complicated militias and parallel governance, each one a locked room of secrecy that is impossible to enter without a huge amount of connections and power. 

“In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king. And, honey, you should see me in a crown” Valentino wisely said to you once. He’s a man of many many keys, and right now you are holding the fucking master key under your arm. 

Speaking of Valentino, he notices that you dozed off and snaps his fingers, grounding you back to reality. 

“My, my. You must have extremely sensitive information today to keep you from hearing the nastiest, hottest gossip of the moment babe” He takes a hit from his cigarette, an elegant and sensual move straight from an Old Hollywood film. The heart shaped smoke rings caress your face and for an instant you feel hypnotized, nodding your head profusely. 

“But I already knew that” behind the rose coloured shades, you see a playful wink from his infamous red hot eyes. 

The porn overlord quickly snaps his head towards the huge automatic doors, that open and reveal Vox and Velvette walking side by side exchanging looks between them that scream conspiracy.

“Sorry about the wait, my darling” Vox purrs on your way, stopping behind your chair and placing his hands on top of it, fingers dangerously close to your neck and shoulder. He pushes your hair to the side and lingers there, on your neck. “but as they say ain’t no rest for the wicked, am I right?” Velvette takes her seat beside Vox’s empty chair, meticulously placed in front of you, polite pleasantries leaving her mouth. She’s still a mystery, you never know her true stance on you, she keeps you on your toes. Does she like you? Does she hate you? Does she even care? 

“If you say so, boss!” you give him your best pageant smile. “So, who’s climbing up the ladder of the food chain today?” You bat your eyelashes at him. Your performance begins.

“Aw baby, you know I love when you call me boss! keep talking dirty to me” Vox lands a wet kiss on your cheek and makes his way to his chair.

 Right in front of you, so he’s always staring at you, drinking in your every move. You cannot fail, you cannot falter. 

As much as you’ve gotten used to pretending, pretending you like the V’s, pretending you don’t feel disgusting inside for being here, pretending you don’t hate Alastor for putting you in this situation with a burning passion but still missing him so much you feel someday your heart will stop beating in protest to him absence, it’s still hard. Especially when Vox touches you. Your eyes focus on cybersharks swimming behind Vox’s seat and concentrate on keeping your awarding winning poker face. 

“This year looks really promising I will tell you that! The orders for both your weapons and tragedy porn cameras doubled since the last extermination! I will give credit where credit is due, that fuckboy Adam knows how to put on a show!” he snaps his fingers graphs, stats and footage appears on the various screens. But it’s all irrelevant, it won’t matter when you spill your secret. 

“Lot’s of veeeery interesting happenings but I thought this year we might… start differently. Let’s forget the profit talk for now, change things a little. Did you guys see anything out of the ordinary? Did something stand out?!” he spins around his Big Boss ™ chair and stops with his hand under his chin, leaning in to you like a schoolgirl with the hottest new gossip. 

“Oh! I heard things -” Val also leans in getting closer to the TV overlord face. 

Vox’s grin shrinks, lifting a finger in protest 

“We know, we know, you always hear things Val” he replies in a monotone tone

Velvette, who spent this entire time typing away on her phone, interjects 

“Look, don’t take this the wrong way girlypop” finally looking at you she asks, or rather, states the million dollar question “ but what Vox means is that we know you have something  big cooking inside those files, so let’s drop the bullshit and go straight to it” 

The doll puts her phone down, she knows how important this is, how this secret will probably dictate how things will go from now on. You can call Velvette many things, but she is clever and under all that attitude and posh accent lies a brilliant strategist. 

“Plus, we all know you are contractually obligated to tell anyway, so spill, and can make this quick and painless to everyone involved” 

Right, your cartesian, empirical proof that angels can be killed.  Caught on the scene of the crime with the gun in your hands. 

You don’t waste anymore time, the words leave your lips like you’re choking with the threat they present. You tell them everything: where the exorcist was killed, how he was killed, the golden ichor blood that oozed from the wound, where the body was hidden. Everyone is silent while you speak, even the mechanical sharks seem to have stopped swimming to listen. 

After that you don’t remember much more of the meeting, it felt like you took the backseat of your own mind, the overwhelming feeling of dread making you so out of breath. Something is coming, something fucking coming and you can’t breathe. Anxiety sets under your skin like a second skeleton begging to crawl its way out and you find yourself sitting in one of the lavish anterooms of the V’s building. 

“So, the cat’s out of the bag then” you recall hearing Vox saying when, as if on cue, a few moments before the meeting was being declared over, the emergency broadcast about the reduction of the extermination date from a year to six months was issued. You four watch the transmission and you wonder if that’s what it feels like to get the news of the end of the Cold War, the doomsday clock finally hits midnight and we are nuking each other out. 

Mutual destruction assured. 

Your mind wanders back to your life on earth, if life up there is better or worse these days. You died so young, everybody told you, your Untimely Demise a big topic of conversation that you yourself didn’t know much about. But nothing, nothing in all of your living years and your years from Hell to eternity could prepare you for what comes next.

“So the Radio Demon is back in town! Why is he hanging around? What does it mean for your family?” 

The news hit your ears like a tsunami and you feel dizzy. It’s easy to find a big screen here and you are running to the closest one before your brain can even compute the words. 

Alastor is back, Alastor is back, and he didn’t come find you.

The next sound wave is even worse, dragging you ashore to your feelings without any reprieve. 

“Salutations!

Good to be back on the air! Yes, I know it's been a while, since someone with style treated hell to a broadcast

Sinners, rejoice!”

This isn’t a prank, there are no cameras and a sadistic tv host waiting for your humiliating reaction, instead all pairs of eyes in Hell are glued to the screen watching as the two Overlords fight it out. 

Thus, no one notices how your entire body shakes and your vision goes black. It’s too much, and you grip the rails from the stairs that lead to the foyer for dear life. Your heart is beating out of your chest. No one notices how you cry, how you whimper Alastor’s name like a prayer, how the tears run down your face and you feel paralyzed. You want to run, a million thoughts per heartbeat making your head swim. The best you can do is collapse on the floor. So you do, you collapse trying to catch your breath as you plan your sweet escape, how you are going to Houdini yourself out of this situation right to his arms.

“Tune on in

 when I'm done, your status quo will know its race is run”

You want to kiss him, you want to slap him, you want to tell him how much you missed him, you much your fucking hate him. You want him to drag you to his rooms and make you pay for cursing him out. You want him, you want your Alastor back. You cannot breathe.

“Oh, this will be fun.”

and then all the lights go out.

There’s a beginning of an uproar happening, the electric building dies a quick and unforgiving death, demons run around and Vox is flying down the stairs trying to do damage control. But even he is failing to keep his composure, because he knows. Oh how you know too. 

Alastor is like a natural disaster, a shattering force that bends everything on its way with the sheer force of will. The inevitable reckoning that comes to your town, that judges and executes everyone that you love. 

And now he is here. 

You see the burning red hot pair of eyes first, their predatory gaze hold the entire room hostage, looking for his prey and then they land on you. 

The piercing intensity of Alastor’s eyes, the flickering reds of damnation itself, regard you with surprise, elation and something more. So overbearing those eyes are, they make you shiver, bearing the weight of his gaze that penetrates deep into your soul. Your soul that is not yours anymore, it belongs to the man he hates, the man he despises. 

The Radio Demon’s towering frame closes the distance between you two in five long strides, you do your best to keep yourself upright and not cower at the sight of him. He looks like Rapture and righteous torture, coming to deliver your setance. Vox knows his sentence is being delivered here and now too, so he runs, runs to you.  You feel static and an electrifying pull, metal clinking. A chain. A glowing blue chain on your neck and Vox’s pulling it tight.

“What? what the fuck is going on? what’s this?” snapping your neck quickly towards Vox you whimper, you beg. The few seconds you stopped looking into Alastor’s eyes causing seething rage inside the deer demon, ire that makes the room tremble. 

‘“Talk over the radio, that way everyone can hear, baby” Vox says straight at Alastor, like it is a shooting gun. The look on the TV Overlord is maniac, a sideway cocky smile that drips pettiness. Just because Vox clearly lost this battle, with all tvs and electricity on petagram city going dark, it doesn’t mean he can’t still forever tarnish this victory. 

Alastor’s demonform covers the already dark building in opaque, thick shadows, radio static picks up around the room like a tornado chocking the majority of the unfortunate demons that are still inside, in a desperate attempt to seek shelter. 

No words leave the radio host’s lips as he grows even taller, breaking the posh entrance of the building, debris flying down causing even more damage, the tall glass windows shatter in a million pieces courtesy of his tentacles tearing down everything on their way. The sounds of destruction and despair are loud but you haven’t been listening to the world outside you and your returned lover’s radio dial eye’s for a while. A doe caught in the headlight of his eyes the best you can do in brace for the inevitable impact that is coming your way.

In a flash of his scarlet eyes a fire ignites, the flames born from it are unnatural, behaving like a hive mind to kill and destroy.

 You always knew that facing Alastor after these 7 years would not be easy, but you never imagine your reunion like this, in the midst  of pomppeian fire, a wild raw power, the oncoming storm that is Alastor when he attacks. 

Vox knows this fight is over, his ego hurt and today’s accounts always written as a victorious comeback from the Radio Demon, nevertheless, between the three of you Vox will always know who really won, who drew the last card, had the last laugh. He did, holding Alastor’s girl on a leash because he owns her. The soul of the woman the Radio Demon dared to love is his, the man Alastor despises with a burning passion, and that’s enough for now. 

The raging flames circle the three of you and without much more flair Vox drops his act, your chain disappearing from your neck. You drop to the floor, branching yourself on all fours. You consider crawling your way to Alastor, so you can explain, so you can cry, so you can beg. You don’t know for what exactly you will be begging for: your life? his forgiveness? his punishment? you just know a lot of begging and pleading will be involved. 

But the decision is made for you.

“Run, run my little darling doe” Vox commands “Run and do whatever you need to do” 

You get up on your feet in a completely ungracious move and Alastor’s out of the room instantly. The flames never touch you on the way out, the outside world greets you: a cacophony of screams, sirens, burning sounds, the infernal orchestra that becomes the soundtrack of your life.  

“Oh, and by the way” Vox screams from the threshold of the decaying building “we just got news that your place on Cannibal Town got trashed by some wayward sinners during extermination. But don’t worry you can always come home here, come home to me!”

You do your best to ignore his taunting, and you pray to whoever is listening that Alastor didn’t hear it. But it’s futile, the pavement where he is stepping cracks a dark cloud of static and shadows trail after him. He definitely heard and felt the implications of these words. 

“Al.. Al!” you scream running after your lover. 

Fuck, you’re still in heels, and those aren’t your running heels.

Kicking the damned shoes off you run faster, you cry harder and plead faster.

When you lived, your life always felt a bit surreal, weird stuff happened to you that you couldn’t really explain. People always joked that screenwriters of your life were the most creative people alive, the thing that happened to you never happened to anyone else. You died young, with a big, full life ahead of you, but you took this as gospel to your afterlife, after all everything related to your death was a mystery to you. But the things that happened to you living or dead were a raw reality impossible to make up.

 The uncertainty of your death only fuels your resolve to fight for the life you found in the afterworld. 

“Al, wait!” you are starting to get truly desperate, you need to get to him otherwise you are pretty certain you will drop dead here and now.

 “Alastor please, please listen to me” your voice failing, you finally choking from the smoke, from the suppressed tears. If Alastor doesn’t hear you now you are not sure you can carry on after him, you’re too tired too scared. You him to save you like the damsel in distress you are right now so bad.

Alastor dramatically comes to a halt. 

“I. am. Not. Having. This. Conversation. Here.”  his voice is staggered, still. Filled with static and a murderous edge to it. His long arms catch your wrist and pull you close, flush against his chest, you almost stumble but a powerful arm around your waist locks you tight to him. 

It’s the first touch in seven years, your legs shake at the realization that he’s real, he’s here. You lock your arms around his neck, the familiar fabric of his overcoat, the soft strands of his hair, they all feel like coming home.  

Something inside Alastor snaps when he remembers, when he feels how small you are in comparison to him, only one arm securing you safely to him. Some paradoxical fight starts inside him, wild wild want, wild wild rage against tameness, the docile calm you bring whenever you are at his side. 

The world disappears for a few seconds as darkness engulfs both of you,  inside the black moving vacuum only the two of you exist, greeting each other in bloody homecoming. 

Alastor takes you back to the Hotel, landing with a low thump inside his room. For a second his hand supports the small of your back, preventing you from falling forward. After all it’s been 7 years since you shadowtravelled with him, he knows you are terribly out of practice. 

His consideration towards you only lasts this precious second thought, because he makes his way across the room, creating as much distance as he can between the two of you. Your touch disarms him, he is aware of that since the first time your hand brushed against his, the first time his lips ghosted on top of your knuckles. If Alastor is touching you he is extremely likely to get soft, to remember how much you mean to him, what you do to him, so he will be merciful. And right now the last thing the deer demon wants is to be disarmed, to show you mercy. He can feel your betrayal burning inside his veins, clouding his judgment with ire and jealousy.

Alastor doesn’t fight those feelings, on the contrary, he lets them take him by storm adding fuel to his already bad temper. That’s the only way he can face you now, that’s the only way he can make you understand. 

You don’t get any time to gather your bearings, from the corner of your eye you notice a forest. His room is bigger on the inside and has a fucking conservation area but that’s hardly the most pressing matter at the moment. The pressing matter at the moment is that you are getting whiplash from touching your demon lover for the first time in seven years and his subsequent refusal to touch you, stationing himself across the room to you.

Why isn’t he with you? by your side as you ride the shockwaves of today together? You are scared, but above all you feel overwhelming sadness. 

“How did it happen?” he finally snaps, breaking the deafening silence. It’s the first time Alastor regards you, directly, in 7 years and the weight his words bare is so heavy you wish for more of the silence. “Tell me, how did it happen?” his eyes are wild, dangerously close to radio dials. 

“How did it happen? You tell me Alastor! You left me, you fucking left me!” you wish you could be your usually articulated self, you rehearsed this conversation so many times in your mind and in none of them you started with such venom on your lips. But it has been too long, and maybe the poison from all those years alone and afraid beside Vox drips through. 

The Radio Demon sees the tears that fall profusely from your big doe eyes, and they sting more than an acclaimed torturer like him could have anticipated. Alastor finds himself still disarmed, because with every single glistening tear that falls he can see how hurt, how scared you are. He is the only one allowed to make you scared, he owns your fear.

But that’s the problem isn’t it? He owns nothing. Vox does. And that realization turns him back to feeling seething rage. 

“So my mere absence is enough to change your devotion? Is me being here the only thing that stopped you from falling into his arms?” more poison. By the end of the night you both will choke on it. 

“Al.. Al” you are sobbing now, your throat tightens and it’s hard to breath it’s hard to speak. “ I had to do it. You don’t get it, you don’t get it.” your voice breaks “hemademedoit, hemademedoit!!”. You swallow half the words, whimpering, as if you say it fast enough the action will quickly become the past, as if the memories won’t haunt you. And yet the memories flood your mind

A dim-lit room, the smell of blood and something burning.

“He is gone baby, and he isn’t coming back”

Electricity makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. 

A stranger’s hand pushes the hair to the side of your face, dread creeps up inside of you.

“This is the only way my dear, the best decision you can make” 

The same stranger’s hand grab you by the waist 

“I’m the only one who can protect you now, you know that right?”

eyes that make you freeze, it’s hard to think. eyes that make it hard to say no.

“If this is hard for you, you can pretend that I’m him” 

a wrong type of static pricks your lips 

“This won’t hurt” 

a shockwave hits your body and it feels like you are being split open

You have to steady yourself on the closest piece of furniture. You cower as the repressed memories from the night you finally gave in to Vox assault your mind, trying to make yourself as small as possible, like he is coming back to do it all again. Cries and incoherent words leave your lips and you don’t know if you actually said what happened or if this entire time you have just been crying. You entire body hurts as you hyperventilate “Al, I’m so sorry” you whisper 

That’s what undoes Alastor, you curling yourself in a ball, defeated and scared at the ghost of the man he hates. You looking away from him like you are undeserving of him, of his punishment, of his love. Like you are tainted. Alastor can’t make the exact words of your confession about how it happened, but he heard enough. Vox would never make you come to him willingly, Alastor knows that. Whatever Vox did - and Alastor has a lot of ideas of what he did - he will pay double for it. 

 Alastor’s blackened heart shatters when he calls your name and you don’t look up to meet his eyes, like you always do. He was always your lantern for when you were drowning. He meant to break you, hurt you like that. He just wanted to make you come to him, beg for his forgiveness, beg him to soothe the pain. 

“Mon coeur, my sweet darling doe you are safe” Alastor voice goes so soft it hurts “Don’t fret, it’s in the past, it’s over, you are safe with me now as you are meant to be” he coos.

Still, you can’t read your lover’s mind. So you don’t know his heart is shattered, you don’t know how much he loathes himself for letting this get this far. You are so caught up on your own feelings, reeling the rage and the memories that you miss the softness of his voice and his outstretched hard and you inevitably choke on the poison. 

“No. No!” you snap “You don’t get to say that. You have no right to say that!” you scream as you get up “I’m not safe, I will never be safe because you weren’t there to protect me, you promised Alastor, you fucking promised” the poison is now inside you, heartstopping waves of hurt consume your body and sprit. Right now the same burning passion that makes you heart beat for Alastor makes you hate him too. You were never good with ugly feelings, you always pride yourself for being soft to be strong. Your kindness and act of rebellion during the hellish reality you lived. You were never good with bad feelings, so you do something you never thought you’d do.

You shove the Radio Demon, that man you love so much it drives you to insanity. You shove him because the shame is too much, all the ugly feelings ball up inside, convincing you that you don’t deserve him, that you already lost him. And you won’t survive his dismissal. 

You never talked back to him, you never raised your voice. Not because you were afraid to, but because you never had to, hence the reason why Alastor is so taken aback that your pitiful attempt of violence actually moves him from where he was standing. 

Alastor shoves you back, pushing you up against the wall with a searing kiss. He kisses you like you are his last chance at salvation, like he wants to be redeemed. He licks your lips as you struggle to catch your breath, pushing his hips hard against your core, making you straddle him. Alastor doesn’t grant you a moment of reprieve, his lips come crashing down on yours again, his tongue inside your mouth dancing to a madman’s tune. He does what he does best, he takes and takes and takes. He takes your breath away, he takes all the callous words that threaten to leave your lips, aimed at him. 

You succumb to your demon lover, your nails dig into his skin and he moans inside your mouth, he bites your lips enough to draw blood. In the end Alastor is still Alastor, and of course he gets all hot and bothered when fighting. You feel delirious with the taste of his lips, your blood and your salty tears mixing together, an unholy ambrosia. His hardness press just the right way to make you sing creating a current of desire after a seven year long drought. 

His hands are quick, ridding up your shirt making he grab your ass and then your hips, strong enough to bruise. His clawed finger is already tweaking your nipple that way he knows you love. Your bravado melts, in perfect synchrony to when he sinks his teeth deep into your neck, drinking everything: that wretched poison that tarnished your words, the sacred warmth of your blood. You moan his name like a prayer that he promptly answers, he’s kissing you like a drowning man again, your blood on his lips painting your lips red like you both just drank from the holy grail, his hand cups your other breast and you vow to never speak to him like that again, only if it’s gonna get you up against the wall like that with him. 

And then he stops. 

“I hope this kiss haunts you” he says, voice still drunk with desire, low and threatening. He swiftly moves you off him, walking away and creating the same distance from when this all started “haunts your every breath, finds its way inside your every waking moment until you are mad with regret” 

You are bewildered, eyes widening in disbelief. What is he doing? How can he go from 0 to a 100 so fast? 

“I hope this kiss haunts you, so you never forget that you were the only woman who ever had me at the palm of her hand and you decided to throw it all away with that calamitous cynicism of yours.” 

So that’s what’s happening. You can never expect to beat a master at his own game, Alastor is still cruel when he is merciful. When push comes to shove he will always win. There’s only so far you can get with taunting his repentance,  playing with his heart laid bare at your feet, filled with sorrow and begging for forgiveness. He was ready to apologize, to dry your tears and soothe your fears, worshiping your delicious body and the ground you walked on. He was ready to admit that this was half his fault until your venom stung him beyond the realm of spoken word. 

“I understand it now, it must be hard for you to cope with your own decisions, your own failings, so you take it all on me. I hope you remember this when you come back to beg, on your knees for my forgiveness. And trust me, you will.” Of course Alastor would torture you with the knowlodge of his guilt and despair, the loss of his benevolence, the promise of desire and carnality. He will always be a torturer at heart, and you forgot that’s the first rule you need to always remember when dealing with him. 

“You’ve got your demons darling” never was your precious pet name said with such disdain. Static starts to gather around you, and in a flash his hand is on your neck

“and they all, Look. Like. Me” his voice is distorted when he finishes cursing you, there’s a tempest behind his eyes that entraps you, the burning red of his irises condemn you. 

The Radio demon is a raging fire, an oncoming storm. But he is also meticulous, cruel and calculating, if you dared to question him, to step on the grace he gladly gave you, you clearly were aware of everything he did to lull his absence. All the plans and contingencies he made to hush your worrying thoughts about him and bathe your threshing heart on tranquiline waters.

And you decided to mock it. To mock him and his love for you. 

You are crying again, but this time Alastor is fucking glad he was the one to hurt you, to reduce you to a mess of regret and tears. 

Tonight in Hell, power shifts from one Overlord to another. Sinners plan and freak out accordingly.

 But their machinations are all meaningless. 

The 7 years you spent away from Alastor made you sad, the three years spent on Vox’s side made you bitter. The V’s operate on poison, it’s their fuel. And maybe the poison drips through.

Tonight you drank the poison and it broke you.

Tonight, for the first time, the poison broke Alastor too.

[wtfsteveharrington]

hope this isn’t weird but the end of the luca blurb you posted where they both get hurt on accident has made my mind run haywire thinking of luca and assplay,,,

i have been........... thinking about this a lot i fear. uh oh!

contains: semi intoxicated & unprotected sex, spitting, ass fingering (idk how to say this gracefully okay), slight mention of spanking. some dom-ish!luca vibes hehe. afab!reader!

this isn't my normal style of writing but i'm just a little rotten at the idea

i think it'd have to start when you were both a little tipsy, inhibitions lowered. you jokingly bent over the table when you got back to the apartment, groaning and struggling to kick off your shoes while you relax across the cool table.

he'd catch you struggling from the corner of his eye and come over to grab your hips, chuckling to himself. "you're gonna hurt yourself if you keep this up."

squatting down behind you and grabbing ahold of your ankle, gently guiding you to lift your foot off the ground so he can slide your shoe off before following suit with the second shoe as well.

warm hands cupping your calves and running along your legs. "luca..." you'd groan out, causing a shiver to run through his body.

the energy would change so quick.

he's squeezing your calves and kissing the back of your knee when he feels you rustling around above him and suddenly your panties are being pushed down your thighs. if he was of a clearer mind he'd probably tease you about how easily you got these off verses the struggle of your shoes.

but he's not.

luca's standing up so quick and unbuckling his jeans, the sound of his zipper being undone causing your breathing to pick up. you're reaching back to pull your skirt up to the middle of your back, exposing yourself to him and the two of you work in comfortable silence. desire pushing the interaction along.

your chest is flat against the table, hands reaching back to spread yourself open for him. you hear him gasp at the sight. as a reward there's a finger pushing into you without much warning, neither of you wanting to waste any time.

the mess of whines and pleas falling from your lips is making him dizzy and he doesn't take long before you feel his finger slide out and the tip of his cock gliding between your folds. he's letting out a groan at how wet you feel that causes a surge of... pride? in your chest. knowing you're pleasing him.

"fuck you need this bad." he grumbles out and you'd respond, a panicked noise of agreement combined with a mess of begging, but instead he's pushing into you before you can respond.

you cry out, arching your hips so he has a better angle as he gives you a moment to adjust before picking up his pace. he grabs ahold of one of your hands, pinning it to the small of your back while your other hand still clutches your own ass.

"very good, so fucking good." he'd praise, his hips clapping against your body with each deep stroke.

he's going to spit on your pussy, adding even more lubrication to your already soaked core, but with the combination of lust and liquor in his brain he... misses.

and now his hips stall as he watches his split slide down your backside, dripping over your clenched hole he's never had to courage to ask you to explore yet. you two were just a few months in, still getting comfortable.

"luca... why did you stop?" you sound pathetic and he can barely register your words as he slowly starts moving his hips. without thinking he brings his hand up, dragging his thumb through the spit and applying the softest pressure to your hole which causes you to gasp.

both of you stall for a second, luca shocking himself by being so bold. "i'm so sor-" he goes to apologize, but instead he feels your pussy squeeze around his length and you start to fuck yourself back on him. "a-again..."

he's glad to do as he's told. the pressure returning to your tight hole which makes both of you moan.

the combination of his pace picking up combined with him exploring is sending you into orbit. "relax for me, love." you do, letting your body melt under his touch and he spits down onto you again.

your arms give out and the one that was holding yourself open falls to the side while the one under his grip weighs heavy against your back. a gasp falls from your lips as he pushes into the tight ring with his finger. even with just one you feel so full. "oh fuck!"

luca watches in amazement as your orgasm hits you suddenly and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't proud of himself. his finger stays buried in you while he fucks himself in, letting you both savor the feeling of the aftershocks of your peak. neither of you expected you to finish that quick, speaking to just how aroused you ended up getting.

he's cooing down at you. "you want me to fuck you here next." not a question, a statement. he already knows you too well. you're nodding as your body goes lax against the table, breathing heavy.

a few minutes pass and he's popping his finger out of you, smacking his hand against your ass sharp enough to leave a faint hand print before pulling out of you.

"go get in bed, we're not done."

your legs were already weak but you feel like jell-o now as you nod, shakily standing up and letting him support you as you walk to the bedroom for what's bound to be a long night.

[yooglefics]

Reveal — Part three: celebrating

Pairing: Yoongi x fem!reader ( camboy!yoongi x camgirl!reader )  Wordcount: 4,513 words Genre: 18+ / smut. mdni! remember to not use fics as your only source of sex ed.  Summary: Your birthday celebration takes a turn when Jungkook forgets to uninvite a particular guest. Part 3 of Recording & Editing. Read it in that order for context. More warnings under read more.

Includes: 3k words of just smut. Mentions of posting / selling sex content. Dirty talk. Use of pet names ( baby, doll, good girl? ). Fingering ( f ), Oral sex ( f and m ). Frottage. Cum play? A bit of overstimulation? Possessive Yoongi because Reveal!Yoongi is just like that and I can't do anything about it. It's true, I tried.  Author's note: Okay, I think this is actually the last one for this. A trilogy is fine, right? But also don't quote me on that because clearly I can't seem to know how to stop writing this pair and I'm watching Jungkook from a distance like 👀 but shhh Which speaking of, I was thinking and if you want to know more about the characters in this verse specifically, you can send an ask with “( reveal!verse )” at the beginning, maybe specify if you want it to be answered ic with “( @ reveal!theirname )” , and a question or whatever you want to say. Idk, thought it could be fun~ Also, I made a post with different options for tag lists in case anyone is interested. You know, for future projects and stuff. But don't feel preassure to request it, and thank you for following this mini series. Anyway. I hope you like this and if you do please remember to comment, reblog, ask, follow, and whatnot. And again, thank you for reading <3

“You know, you could reply instead of just staring at it,” Jungkook says, over your shoulder.

You're sitting in your living room, phone in your hand with the audio post on screen. There was no way of denying you were caught, you had already embarrassed yourself by acting like a schoolgirl when telling him about SugaD leaving a comment.

“But what if I say something dumb and he deletes it?”

“Why would he do that? He thinks you're cute,” he teases.

“The cutest,” you correct, silly smile on your face once again. 

“See. You should shoot your shot and talk to him, he clearly is interested in you too,” he winks, finally walking around the couch to sit at your side, fresh bowl of popcorn on his lap.

“But it's all so crazy. I don't even know how he found my page, he only follows big creators.”

“Well, he asked me.”

“What?”

“He asked who you were,” his Bambi eyes blink at you, fear creeping on his soft expression, “I… don't kill me, please.” He moves away from you and that makes you turn to him, leg over the couch and phone forgotten.

“Jungkook? What did you do?” All the scenarios go through your mind, imagining the worst. He told him you kind of have a big old crush on him even if you have never seen his face? Did he tell him about the joke of suing him because he is so—

“And I was busy so I thought, you know, he works with music and edits his own content and it seemed like a good idea,” he is talking so fast and you realize you missed the beginning of it, but before you can ask him to start over he just burst it, “so he edited it.”

“He what?”

“The audio. Your audio. He edited it.”

“My… audio.” The audio you're sure included the start of his video.

Fuck.

Shit.

That's so much worse.

You should delete your account. Delete yourself. You want to move to another country and change your name. 

“Fuck.”

“I'm sorry. I should have asked you, but I figured…” he trails off, coming closer again. “I just… I didn't think it was a big deal because… well, I didn't know he was gonna subscribe to you. He only subscribes to people he is friends with and I know he doesn't even watch their stuff.”

You can tell he is trying to make you feel better, and although you appreciate the effort, everything is confusing. Does that mean he wants to be friends? But he doesn't watch his friends's content so… no friends?

“Fuck.” You murmur again.

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook asks softly, worrying the ring on his bottom lip. 

“I… don't know.”

“Do you want me to go?”

“No. Let's finish the movie.”

But you can concentrate for the rest of it, and know that you'd have to watch it again another time in case your friend brings up something important about the plot. But now, the only thing in your head is theories about what you're going to do about that one particular comment and, again, you consider just deleting the whole thing.

Jungkook invites you the next weekend to the restaurant, it's his free day but he tells you he can get you the birthday special even if it’s one day early and he can even sing for you. You tell him you are only going if he doesn't make a whole thing out of it. You'd wear the birthday hat and blow out the candles, but if he dares to bring more attention to you, you actually will kill him.

He believes you. 

And so, here you are. Sitting in a booth in front of Jungkook and Hanna, your best friend. Big chocolate cake in front of you that they insisted on getting because “you can have it for dessert for the next week and think about how much we love you”, and also because you love chocolate.

“Sorry. Am I late?” A voice behind you interrupts the end of the birthday song, your smile falling because you could recognize it anywhere, and the fact that he is here makes you panic.

“Oh, shit… ah…” Jungkook stumbles over his words, even comes close to knocking his drink. “Sorry. Hi.” He greets the guy and throws an apologetic look your way. “This is my friend Yoongi.”

“Oh, hi. I'm Hanna and didn't know we were waiting for someone, but good thing we got a big cake, uh?” she jokes and looks at you. She does that whenever you're around people and you don't talk, her way of making you feel included. 

But right now you want to disappear. Birthday crown and all. Maybe take the cake too.

“Hi,” you say timidly, eyes on Jungkook instead.

“I…” he starts, remorseful look on his face as he explains, “invited Yoongi last week, didn't want to third wheel with you two.”

“Oh, that's fun! Well, you want to sit there or should I move?” Hanna proposes and you're about to say she should come to your side even if that means Jungkook has to stand up too, but Sug— Yoongi speaks faster.

“I’ll sit here. Is that okay?” 

You only nod, scooting to your right to make space for him. To not be so close he notices how nervous he makes you just with his presence.

He smells nice. Fresh and woody at the same time, and is only overwhelming because is him. Because a lot of things about him are a mystery still and you are about to unlock them all right now.

“Those are cute,” Hanna says.

“Ah, yes. I… these are for you,” a bouquet is presented on your line of vision. Is not big nor too much, the perfect size to be a nice present and it lets you admire the flowers’ beauty. “Happy birthday.”

“You didn't have to.”

“You don't like it?” If you weren't so focused on your own nerves you'd have noticed the ones on his voice.

“I do.” You quickly say. It's cute. The lavender mixed with two types of white flowers you don't recognize but you love the look of, mostly the one that looks like little stars. “Is really pretty. Thank you.”

“I'll bring you a drink,” Jungkook says, and looking at him you know he needs one himself. You could actually kill him after this.

“Wait, where is the restroom?” Asks Hanna and your eyes lift from your present so fast your neck almost hurts, but she is quickly disappearing in the direction Jungkook points her to.

And that's what you get for keeping everything a secret from your best friend. Karma as its finest.

“Pff,” you breathe, sinking into your seat. 

“I can go if you want me to,” Yoongi says softly at your side.

“What? No, no is—” you try to explain is not him. Nothing is wrong actually. Everything is perfect and you're totally not freaking out.

“You haven't looked my way,” does he sounds hurt? “Is alright. I don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just thought… I don't know. JK invited me weeks ago and then I found out who you were,” you cringe at that, knowing he most likely means when he listened to your audio. “I figured I'd take the chance and meet you.”

“Why? I mean. Don't you feel uncomfortable because of the…” finishing your sentence feels unnecessary and saying it at loud is embarrassing.

“The fact that you watch my videos?”

“I swear I only watched like three and I don't do that with all of them is just— Are you laughing?” Finally you turn to him, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Sorry, sorry. But is that supposed to make me feel better?” 

You don't answer. 

“Of course I don't mind.” He leans in, "If you sound that cute, I'll let you watch all of them for free.”

Breath caughts on your throat, looking at him with big round eyes. His face is right there and you try to take it all in. Clean shaved, jawline not too harsh and with soft features, crested moon shaped brown eyes, pink lips, and the way they curve up when he catches you staring at them.

“I don't want to go, but if you want me to, I'll do it.” he backs out, and somehow you can tell he is genuine.

“Stay.”

After dinner and some chatting, Jungkook offers to drive Hanna home and Yoongi takes you to his place. It’s fancy, looks like taken out of a magazine and you tell him exactly that. He asks you if you want to judge his room too and with a laugh you tell him yes, because honestly, you're curious now.

You tell him it doesn't look too cozy and suggest investing in a nice blanket, he raises an eyebrow at you and finally you confess you're an interior designer by day. He tells you he is a music producer. And then you talk about how and why each of you decided to join OF and what kind of things you have discovered you like during that journey.

“Interesting,” he says when you confess you started following him because of a hand picture you saw somewhere else. He has been playing with your fingers while you lay on his bed, is relaxing and you don’t mind at all. “You said you were going to sue me, should I even be this close?” 

“Oh my—” you pull away, covering your face. And he laughs. “Go away.”

“No, c'mon. It's cute.” He tries to turn your body to its side, but you don't give in. “Look at me, please.”

“No. I can't.”

“Why?”

“Because no.”

He laughs again, hand on your hip, “Baby, please?” Head shake is your answer, “I'm sorry. Should I confess something too?” 

“Yes.”

“Let's see,” he props himself on his elbow, looking at you even if you are still covered. “I knew about you before the audio.”

“You did?”

“Well, Jungkook talks about you all the time and I was curious. I think it was the third time you guys collabed that I saw a picture and he mentioned your name on his page.”

“Which picture?” You ask, uncovering half your face to look at him, he smiles.

“The one with the books. You were holding one in front of you.”

You remember that. Like all your pictures with Jungkook, it was suggestive more than anything and in that one the pose made it look like you were touching yourself.

“And now I know what you sound like doing that,” he teases, “wonder if I'd be lucky enough to see it someday.”

“You've to stay subscribed and see,” is your turn to have fun.

“Should I make another instruction video for you?” or maybe not. And before you cover yourself again, he holds your wrist, bracelet digging a little on your skin but not enough to actually hurt. “Don't. Let me see you.”

“Yoongi…”

“Fuck. Don't say my name like that,” is only half joking, but he knows you can tell he wants you just as much. “Can I kiss you?” 

You nod and his lips touch yours in a millisecond. They are soft, but his movements are quick, and soon his tongue is asking for permission to enter your mouth. With a moan, you granted happily and hungry to taste him. 

His hand goes back to your waist, only resting before squishing it gently. Your own hand traveling to his nape and bringing him closer, your chests touching.

In need of air you break the kiss, and instead of stopping, his mouth keeps working down your jaw and neck, “ohh…” you try to breathe, throwing your head back just enough to give him space. It feels so good you don't want to stop.

And he doesn't. He continues until he reaches the fabric of your dress, covering your chest. He imagines your little gold collar he saw in some pictures. He thinks about buying you one on silver to match his own jewelry or buying a chain for himself the color of yours. Anything would do, he just wants you to be his and for people to know.

“W-wait,” your voice brings him back, and he stops immediately, “don't leave marks. At least not visible.”

“Okay, I can get creative.” A wink seals his promise and his hand moves to the buttons in the front of your dress, his lips following soon behind to attach themselves to the exposed skin. To your breast. He licks and kisses and when he reaches your nipple he flicks his tongue a few times. 

That gets a good reaction from you, but he still asks “You like that?” because it does good to his ego and the mid-erection on his pants.

You nod between whimpers and can feel his laugh through his chest resting on your stomach, “is that enough?” You look at him, the lust on his eyes and his stupid smirk on his lips when he frees your abused skin from his mouth, leaving a bruise on your breast. “Is my tongue enough to make you cum, doll?” 

And your pussy answers for herself. Legs impossibly close in search of some friction and, of course, Yoongi noticed.

“You need something?”

“P-please…”

“Tell me. I'll give you anything, baby.” His voice is raspy like on the videos you watch alone at night. Except is not through a screen and is actually directed to you. Is everything you wanted while touching yourself and for a second you wonder if it's really happening.

Running your hand through his hair you look at him, now lower on the bed and playing with the bottom of your dress while he waits for a sign between your folded legs, cheek against your thigh, letting you catch your breath. 

“Yoongi?” 

“Hmm?” his hand stops on your leg, heavy and warm.

“Touch me, please.”

And you don't have to tell him twice. His hands roam your body, while he leaves kisses here and there. Too desperate to finish unbuttoning it, the bottom of your dress gets pooled at your waist, revealing the lilac lingerie he saw a picture of the other day. 

“So pretty,” he whispers, fingertips traising the embroidered details. It makes you shiver. “Fuck, I can see how wet you are.” His movements travel south to the patch over your entrance, and you respond just as he expects, moaning.

And before you can get used to that, his tongue is on you, flat over the wet and thin fabric. “Can't wait to taste you properly,” sounds a lot like a promise.

Biting your lip, you contemplate asking him to hurry, to give you anything. To get rid of all of your clothes yourself.

But he knows exactly how to drive you crazy. 

Moving your panties to the side with the help of his left hand, the fingers on his right one make an appearance again. Collecting your wetness and using it to rub over your pussy, only applying little pressure at first. Moans echo throughout his room once again, louder and this time in the company of a couple groans from him when he finally pushes in. 

“O-oh… oh my,”

“That's it. Let me hear your pretty sounds,” he encourages, letting you get used to the sensation before adding another one, his eyes on you the whole time. In the way you lick your lips before moaning, the way your hips move towards his hand asking to be fucked, the way your pussy wraps around his fingers. 

“...more.” Is barely a whisper but he hears it, smiling at you.

“Want more? Is not enough?”

“Need you, please” 

And how can he say no to you when you look at him that way. Like he is the only one that can give you what you need, how you want. 

His head disappears between your legs, mouth watering at the thought. He can't even deny he was waiting for you to ask him to eat you out, he would do it in a second, whenever you want, because “oh, god, you taste so sweet.” 

Feeling your legs closing he holds them back, pushing them against your torso with his free hand and squishing your soft skin just as tight as you are doing to his fingers. Thinking about how much force he would need to apply to leave a mark.

“F-fu… fuck. It, it feels so good, please.”

He is proud, lips curving lightly but without wanting to pull away to smile properly. His tongue laps at your entrance alongside his fingers, moving faster and faster, against that spot that makes your body tremble and makes the knot at the bottom of your abdomen want to scream.

“Please, please, please…” 

And he knows what that means. Knows you're close and just need a little push, and he gives it to you in the form of a “Cum for me, baby.”

And you do. Head back and pussy tight around him, legs closing and hand pushing him away when his tongue keeps working, overstimulating and catching all that you give him.

“Oh… my…” you breath. Legs still shaking but feet finally on the mattress again. 

He is standing at the end of his bed, one hand pushing his long hair back and the other unbuckling his belt, eyes on you while he takes you in. “Was that good?” He asks, you nod and he smiles matching yours. “Great. You deserve it.” 

“You want some help with that?” 

“What do you want?” Yoongi throws back, “You’re the birthday girl, after all.”

Worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, thoughts filled with ideas of the things you had wished to be able to do before, you watch him get rid of his jeans and boxers, his dick on full view for you. Only you. “Can I suck you off?”

Obviously, he can't say no, so he nods and you are quick to stand up, legs still feeling a bit weak after your orgasm, but it isn't a problem because as quick as your dress falls completely to the floor, you're kneeling in front of him, between his legs and hands on his tights.

You watch him stroke himself a couple times through gritted teeth, his other hand coming to cup your cheek as you get closer to his length. Saying you had been waiting for this wouldn't be an exaggeration, and without breaking eye contact you stick your tongue out, touching the blush tip slowly. 

He sighed, as if he was, too, relieved at the contact. “So pretty.” 

You push his hand away, taking his hardened length into your hand, only realizing then how big he actually is.

Tapping his dick on your tongue gets you a groan from him and you hum as you wrap your lips around the head, circling your tongue around it inside your mouth before letting go. He smiles at you, his chest moving fast as his breathing increases and his eyes are filled with lust. Your hand moves up and down when your mouth is not working, still wanting him to feel good.

Preparing yourself, you get closer again, taking more in and closing your eyes, adjusting to the girth. 

“Fuck,” he moans, thumb softly stroking your face as his hand moves to the back of your neck when you imitate the previous movements of your hand, going up and down, taking more and more into your mouth. “Y-yeah, just like that.”

The encouragement helps the feeling on your lower abdomen to build in again, pussy squeezing around nothing and moaning around his dick, making Yoongi clench his jaw, bucking his hip up, and letting his grip go only at the last second. He wants to fuck your mouth so bad. Only watching your lips around him is driving him crazy and you feel oh, so warm. 

“So pretty, doll,” he compliments as you try to keep your eyes on him as much as possible, only closing them when he hits the back of your throat. 

You come up, catching your breath as you let your hand do some more work. Collecting your spit and rubbing your thumb on his sensitive tip. He reacts just as you expect, groans and head tilted back slightly, with his hands on either side gripping the black sheets. And that gives you an idea. 

“Can you…” eyes are on you immediately, but you wish they weren't because that makes you shy and is even more difficult to ask.

“Tell me, baby.” He pleads, “I'll give you anything, just ask.”

But is easier to show than tell, and your fingers grab around one of his wrists, positioning his hand on the back of your head. “Just… hold it.” 

“Fuck.” He has to inhale quickly before nodding, are you reading his mind? “tap my thigh if it gets too much, okay?”

A nod of your own, licking your lips before taking his dick in your mouth once again, the simple weight of his hand being enough to encourage you to take more in and staying there a bit longer before bobbing your head.

Yoongi alternates between letting you follow your own peace and holding you down for a few more seconds every once in a while, finally letting himself slam his hips more harshly against your mouth and the back of your throat. His moans fill the air as he pushes into you. “feels amazing… you take my cock so well.” You hum, making his hips fuck into you at the vibration, increasing the tension on his lower abdomen. “Such a good girl.”

“I could fuck your pretty mouth all night,” he goes on, looking down at you and all the mess you've created between his legs. “Oh f-fuck. What a beautiful sight.” opening your eyes makes the view even better, and he holds your head down, making you gag around his dick, “ah… ah…” he lets go, not wanting to come just yet.

And it might be the first time you see him and his beautiful dick in person, but SugaD’s last video is fresh on your mind, —how could it not after the anxiety of him finding out— so you remember he likes to hold back. And is hot. But he is right, is your birthday celebration and you don't want to play by his rules.

“Are you close?” the hoarseness in your voice is surprising for a second, but you don't have time to think about how it's most likely going to hurt tomorrow because he is fixing your hair behind your ears with a devious smile on his beautiful face.

“Want me to come in your pretty mouth?”

“No.” He raises an eyebrow at the quickness of your answer. “I have an idea.”

Standing up, your knees thank you, only realizing then you'll also have to deal with that later, being so in your head while giving head, the weight of having him in your mouth a priority, that you didn't even care until then. 

You're back laying on his bed, pulling Yoongi to be in front of you, between your legs. “Is going to be embarrassingly fast if you ask me to fuck you right now.”

And for a second you consider it. Because he is not saying no and because he looks so good like this, hands reaching down to hold your waist and bring you closer to him down the bed. But you shake your head no. “You ruined my plans today,” feeling the need to justify your pervy desires you explain, “I was supposed to take pics today for my birthday post, so now you have to help.”

“You want me to take pictures of you?” also not saying no, just clarifying, and you can see in the lust of his gaze he likes the idea.

“I want you to do something first,” shyness invades again but looking down at his hardened length is enough to deliver the message, “and then take a picture. If you want.”

Yoongi is close to you again, bending down to kiss you with a “fuck yes, I want to.” His dick is resting over your pelvis, and you can't help the involuntary thrust your own body does. It feels heavy, and warm, and just so perfect. And when he thrust his hips, frotting against yours, you can't take it.

“Y-yoongi,” and he does it again and again, and soon you're cumming by just the feeling and the thought of how would it be to be actually fucked by him, how much would he reach inside you, making you feel so full and “Ohhh… oh”

He holds you and kisses down your neck as you come down your high a second time, before kneeling once more at the end of the bed. “You look so fucking precious, baby,” he notes, hand wrapping around his dick once more.

“You look great too,” you offer, biting your lip before letting honesty take over shyness, “I finally get to see you.”

“You been thinking about it?” He knows exactly what you mean. The reason he cuts it off his videos isn't just for privacy, is to give people something to wish for, to yearn.

You nod.

“Baby wants to see me cum?” Another nod, lost for words, but he is not having it. “Tell me.”

“Yoongi…”

“C'mon, baby. Tell me,” he taps his dick over your clothed pussy. Once, twice. Making your body jump at each touch. He teases the tip over your over-sensitive area and then taps again. Honestly, is hard to tell if he is teasing you or himself, but either works.

“I-I want to see you, please.”

His wrist moves in a faster rhythm, his other hand resting on your leg because he just needs to touch you. “Yeah? I'm going to cum,” he pants, “and you're going to show people how gorgeous you look covered on it.” 

You really don't know how much he loves the idea of that, how much he wants to show the world you let him ruin you, how you whisper “please, please,” as he finishes, head thrown back and your name escaping his lips on a moan, shooting white over your naked stomach.

But you can imagine, his victory smile gives him away. And the way he keeps complimenting you all the while grabbing his phone and snapping picture after picture just confirms it.

But you can judge Yoongi too harshly, it does something to you as well. It helps your confidence and a proud smile matches his as he tells you people are going to hate him if you really post this on your page. And that newfound confidence tells you is going to be the first time you click upload without second-guessing yourself.

[     afterhours(y/n):     Thank you for the birthday wishes!     I indeed got a nice present, don't you think?            [ picture ]                                                                          ]

[    SugaD:     Unbelievable 😻     Can we do something for my birthday too?                                                                                                                   ]

♡ Tag list: @m00njinnie , @sexytholland , @seoullove96 , @thelilbutifulthings , @disneyprincessshuri , @yoongibaybee ,

Thank you so much guys for your interest and support on this little series, I appreciate you 🥺💙

➪ Part one. | ➪ Part two | ➪ Updates for this verse | ➪ Ko-fi

➪ Main masterlist. | ➪ Updates in general | ➪ Request & chats ♡

[unclewaynemunson]

'No no no Steve wait, don't throw that a...way.' The end of the sentence died on Eddie's tongue as the leftover lasagna, basically in slow-motion, tumbled out of the dish and into the bin. Eddie could almost hear a funeral march start to play over the dull thud and the sound of crushing eggshells.

'Fuck,' he said, emphatically.

'That was barely half a portion,' Steve remarked with a careless shrug while putting the empty dish back on the kitchen counter.

And Eddie groaned, tried to count to ten in his head but didn't even make it to two.

'I was gonna have that for lunch, man, add a slice of bread and an apple and I'd have a decent meal!'

There must have been something in his voice that told Steve that he wasn't just being overly dramatic but genuinely annoyed, because his face dropped and he shot a quick glance at the dish, as if that would magically summon the lasagna back into it, untouched by gross eggshells and coffee dregs.

'Seriously, that was perfectly good food, why would you throw that away?!'

'I can buy you lunch tomorrow?' Steve suggested sheepishly.

And, well, that hit a sore spot.

'That's not the fucking point!' Eddie exclaimed in frustration. 'I'm not your charity case or some shit, I can take care of my own meals – as long as you don't throw my food away!'

And again, it was like Eddie saw it happen in slow-motion: Steve flinched, took a stumbling step backwards, created as much distance between himself and Eddie as possible in the trailer’s tiny kitchen by bumping his back against the counter; something crossed his face that Eddie had never seen there before. And... shit.

All his frustration dissolved right on the spot and he immediately took another step away from Steve, even though everything inside of him wanted to cross that distance and hold him. He raised his hands in the air, cautious not to move too sudden.

'Steve, I'm not mad at you,' he said, forcing himself to sound as calm as possible despite his heart beating like crazy. 'I got annoyed, sure, but – it's okay. We're okay. You're okay. I didn't wanna hurt you, I promise.'

Steve swallowed, let his eyes dart everywhere except at Eddie's face while he tightly crossed his arms in front of his chest. The fear seemed to have disappeared from his face, replaced by something else; something expertly concealed within seconds. Anyone less well-versed than Eddie in the craft of noticing every little detail about Steve Harrington wouldn't notice; but Eddie did.

'You wanna talk about what happened there?' he asked, hesitant.

Steve didn't answer right away, his eyes still frantically darting around the trailer and his lower lip sucked between his teeth.

'What do you mean?' he finally said.

'Can I come closer?' Eddie asked. He felt like it would be so much easier to have this conversation if he could touch Steve; if he could smell him and have him in his orbit.

Steve nodded; Eddie sighed a breath of a relief and crossed the distance between them to rest his hands against Steve's sides; not quite an embrace, but something grounding for both of them nonetheless.

'I kinda recognized that look in your eyes, I guess,' Eddie quietly admitted. 'And the way you flinched. Like you were scared I was gonna do something bad.'

'I know you wouldn't –'

'I know,' Eddie was quick to reassure him. There was a beat of silence and Eddie wondered how much he should push. But he knew that he needed this conversation to happen, that it would keep gnawing at both of them if they didn't talk about it now.

'It's because of your dad, isn't it?'

Steve nodded, still looking slightly past Eddie.

'I'm sorry.' Eddie exhaled sharply, trying to keep his emotions under control; he knew that aimless anger at Steve's father wouldn't get them anywhere; not here, not right now. 'I mean, I knew he was bad, but I had no idea that it was... like that.'

He could hear Steve breathe out while he stared at some point just above Eddie's head.

'Sometimes I think all that crap is behind me now,' Steve quietly started to explain. 'But then something like this happens and it – it just catches me by surprise, is all. Like I'll never completely be free of the fear.'

Eddie nodded. 'Uncle Wayne, he... He looks a lot like my father - even though he's nothing like him. Took me years to fully trust him. He makes sure to never raise his voice, but still, sometimes when I see him make a sudden movement from the corner of my eyes, I just... freeze. Like it's some kind of instinct that’ll always stay with me.'

Steve finally looked Eddie in his eyes again, stunned and a little bit shocked.

'Your dad, too?'

Eddie nodded. 'Mhm.'

And wordlessly, Steve pulled him closer, until Eddie was enveloped in his warm arms and their chests were pressed against each other. Eddie let his eyes fall shut, breathed in Steve's familiar scent while he nestled his face in the crook of his neck and tightened his own grip around Steve's back.

They stayed like that for minutes, maybe even a whole eternity.

'Should we make rules?' Steve finally asked, in a hesitant voice and without pulling away from their embrace.

'What kind of rules?'

'Like, things to make sure that this doesn't – that we won't get scared. I know we can't promise not to fight, but...' He trailed off; Eddie could feel him shrug his shoulders.

He started slowly stroking one hand up and down over Steve's back. 'What was the thing that got you afraid, earlier?'

'Your loud voice – and the way you stepped into my space, I guess.'

'Okay.' Eddie nodded. 'So no yelling, and we try to keep our distance when shit goes sour. Sound good?'

Steve hummed against Eddie’s neck. 'Yeah. And for you? You mentioned the sudden movements, with Wayne?'

'Yeah, no sudden movements would help,' Eddie admitted.

'Okay, I can do that.'

Eddie squeezed Steve tighter. 'Thank you.'

Steve huffed. 'You're the one who started this conversation; I should be thanking you.'

Eddie lifted his face to press a gentle kiss against Steve's cheek, and another one at the corner of his lips.

'I'm sorry for startling you.'

'That's okay, you couldn't know.'

'Can you stop doing that, please?’ Eddie said with a chuckle. ‘Let me say thank you, let me apologize. Let me take care of you.'

Steve chuckled too; never before had Eddie been so grateful to hear that sound. 'I'll try.'

'You wanna stay the night?'

Steve shuffled, pulled back a little bit so that Eddie could see his face; there was a frown between his eyebrows.

'I'm not sure if I'm in the mood, after, you know...'

'Hey,' Eddie said, softly. 'You can stay the night for other reasons, too, you know. To have some comfort. To fall asleep together. To let me make sure that you're doing alright.'

'You sure?'

'Hell yes.'

Steve's head dropped down to Eddie's shoulder again, and Eddie lifted his hand to comb through his hair.

'Yeah, I'll stay.'

[wordstome]

Last night I did what I always do when I can’t fall asleep: think about fictional men. Here’s a list of wonderful stories written by incredibly talented people who have helped me think about fictional men by providing the most delicious playgrounds.

In the interest of keeping my recommendations brief, I'm going to talk about what I liked about the fic instead of summarizing what it's about. To know what it's actually about you're just gonna have to click through and read the fic <3

(and just in case anybody's gotten lost, this is all COD, mostly modern MW)

✦ complete ║ ➠ ongoing

König

✦Just Friends by @kneelingshadowsalome Salome is so good at capturing a very unique interplay between König’s social awkwardness and his deep, dark, nasty inclinations. He’s so feral and enjoyable to read, and the sheer force of his desire for Engel is downright intoxicating. I find it difficult to describe how much of an impact Just Friends has had on me and my portrayal of König, to be honest. There's a reason why three of Salome's fics are on this rec list.

✦Fatum Nos Iungebit by kneelingshadowsalome Five words. König with his cock out. That's it. Okay, but in all seriousness, I love his character applied to this setting. All the raw visceral violence a König could ever want, a pretty little lady in his bed—he's so boyish and happy in this au it brings me such joy. The way their relationship between him and Fee develops is so natural and so sweet. Please for the love of God read this.

➠Cat/Mouse/Den by @papaver-decervicatus The chase. The pursuit. The adrenaline when Mouse dances out of König's reach once more. I'm a little biased because I adore Julius and Jenny (I could call her Lucretia but the double J names make me giggle) as ocs already, but CMD is so, so well written. The tension, the flirting, the scene where he catches her falling out of the tree?! As I said in a reblog, I shrieked. You know when you're reading something that's so good you want to bite down on it and shake like a dog with a toy? (No? Just me?) That's how I feel about CMD.

➠Anything by @darklordofthesimp Anything, in only 7 chapters (they are hefty, don’t get me wrong), has turned König and Birdy’s dynamic from “THIS MOTHERFUCKER HAS IRREVERSIBLY SCARRED MY BODY AND MY BRAIN, AND I CANNOT TRUST HIM” to “these two are going to get married someday”. (author if you’re reading this, I say that not as an expectation or prediction, but as a vibe reading.) This one is for the hurt/comfort girlies. Also, shoutout to all the other stories set in the Anything-verse. Sunshine and Ghost are just soooo *grips my hand in a fist so hard it shakes*

➠If you need to be mean by @gremlingottoosilly This mostly serves as a blanket recommendation for all of Gremlin’s fics. I found If you need to be mean, and then visiting Gremlin’s author page was like opening a treasure chest. Want to be König’s pampered, (unwilling) little housewife? That’s If you need to be mean. Want a harem fic with almost all of the COD MW men? Gremlin has two, both with their own little spin to keep it fun. Do you want König to keep you in his basement or hunt you down as a serial killer? Gremlin's got it. Monsterfucker? Gremlin has that too. Special shoutout goes to 1295 kilometers. I think about fucking König on a train a lot now.

➠Break my mind by @kaiasdevotion (kaiasown on ao3) There’s no way around this. This fic has the most unhinged, kinky, downright dangerous smut I’ve read in the cod fandom so far (positive). Just Friends König is the metric by which I judge all other Königs’ nastiness, and Break my mind König is tipping so hard on the “unhinged horny violent freak (affectionate)” end of the scale he’s about to fall off. I don't know if you guys have noticed, but I've developed a taste for writing/reading from König's perspective, and he's so chillingly deranged in the most controlled way possible during the chapters from his pov. Incredible writing. Chefs kiss.

✦Experimental by @uhohdad (surgeoninspace on ao3) Alright, enough of just König being nasty. He is still nasty in this one, but he’s not the only one who gets to have a little fun and be a total creep. Our little scientist here is a grade A pervert, and I was delighted the whole way through. The most important thing I need in a fic is suspension of disbelief, and Experimental takes an unrealistic, maybe a little bit silly situation and makes it so believable. Everybody reacts the way you would expect them to, even if the scenario they're in is A Lot.

➠Little Mouse and Rotes Madchen by @sprout-fics I'm combining the recommendation for these two because while they are both very much distinct, unique fics, I love them the same way. Sprout is such an engaging writer, and the internal dialogue of her characters is so well done. It reveals their personality, motivations, and internal conflicts without being overly expository. Do you guys remember that post I put on the König bible about instant obsession? It's this inexorable attraction borne from obsession that sticks me to Little Mouse like a glue trap. (Is that too morbid?)

✦Hot in Sarajevo by @50cal-fullauto Rags' König characterization post is on my Königcore bible, for very good reason. They get it. König is a feral dog forced to live as a man and loves like a total maniac, emotionally and sexually. I marked Hot in Sarajevo as complete but I don't know how many parts there are going to be, and frankly, I do want more. However, if you're going to only read one part (which. why would you do that??? read both.) I recommend the second part. I want to write love like that. Goddamn.

Ghost

Yeah, this list is a little bare bones right now. I'm gonna get back to it, I promise.

✦Anhedonia by kneelingshadowsalome The way. Salome takes the "I would take a bullet for him but he's so cold to me" premise and then flips it entirely on its head for the second part is so important to me. The way Simon craves the reader is like human catnip. I reread this fic all the time.

Keegan

✦For the Weak and Weary by @halcyone-of-the-sea Read this if you want to believe in true love. That's all. Go on now.

Multiple

✦Easy by @danibee33 When people say "I wish this were a book!" about fanfiction, they usually mean it in a "this is good enough to be published by the traditional publishing industry" way. When I say I want Easy (and Diablesa) to be a book, I mean it in a "I want to get this story bound in a beautiful ass cover and keep it on a shelf so I can take it down and reread it whenever I want" way. I don't want the traditional publishing industry to get their claws in this, because it's perfect as it is. This fic is so wild and fun, and the character moments are so special and well done. Do yourself a favor and savor this one.

➠@ghouljams's entire blog [masterlist] "What do you mean someone's entire blog" YOU HEARD ME. Those aus are some good shit. Good characterization, delicious premises, love the group effort of it all. To absolutely nobody's surprise, my favorite couple is König and Bee from the cowboy au (ditzy but well-meaning and competent in her own way woman x big strong man who is obsessed with her and maybe also creeping on her, my beloved), but I also have a fondness for Ghost and Die from demon darlings au. Trust me on this one. Dig into those masterlists babey.

[just-some-random-blogger]

im sorry babes but im begging you. Can we have a pedro pascal x reader fic where she's like a vlogger/lawyer and its like a fanmade video of them on yt of them being crackheads and being all lovey-dovey. like libra x aries vibes they balance each other out sm. you don't have to really but i genuinely feel like you're the only person who can pull this off.

Talk To My Lawyer

Every time Pedro gets asked something he can't answer, he always says the same thing.

Pedro Pascal x Lawyer!Reader | 600< | cw: gender neutral!reader, fluff, crack, rpf, typos, etc.

A/N: i didnt use and pronouns for yn besides you so anyone can read! ALSO this took forever, but im glad I finally did it. I hope you enjoy this nonnie! it's not exactly like the request but its pretty funny lmao

Tagging: @sloanexx @amis-love-bugs @top1bbgloak @sunfairyy @djarinsstuff @mooniesyubi @pedropascalgirly @mmmmandoz @multifandom-fangirl4

X - (Formerly Twitter) - verse

@hotnewsoutlet: Pedro Pascal announces marriage to Civil Rights Lawyer with heartfelt Instagram post. @gigigogold1: PEDRO IS MARRIED? @linmanuzel: PEDRO IS MARRIED? (2) @HOTdigitidawg: PEDRO IS MARRIED? (3) @103840582duh: ??????????????????????????????????? QUE @pedropascaldad: TO A MOTHER FUCKING LAWYER 💀💀💀✋✋✋ @pedropascaldad: OF COURSE THE LAWYER LOOKS LIKE A SUPERMODEL TOO HAHAHAHAHHAAHAHA *jumps off a plane*

@papipascalyuh: ok but if pedro was gonna get married ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ hell yeah itd be someone who looks like THAT holy fuck

@80pascal: ?????????????????????????????????????? UR TELLING ME THIS LAYWER IS NOT ONLY HOT BUT SMART AND FUNNY TOO????? [article link attached] @biwohla: 💀💀💀💀💀 NO CUZ THE LEVEL OF UNHINGED??? FROM A LAWYER???? INFUCKINGSANE @marvelwhorebb: "... I made sure to wear the Pedro Pascal T-shirt I made when we first announced our relationship. Gotta let the people know I'm one of them and simply got lucky." @atrediessucker: T-SHIRT *I MADE* SCREAMING WHATTTTTT

@djinssdjarrinn: OK IT HURTS BUT FUCK HES SO WHIPPED [video attached]

"How are you today?" asks the interviewer.

Pedro smiles and nods, "good, how are you?"

"I'm great, now that I got to see you," she says, making the man curl his head into his shoulder and grin.

Pedro waves a hand, "oh stapit"

She grins back, "I was excited when I saw you arrive with the internet's favorite lawyer."

His expression shifts, he brightens up. He places a hand on his chest, "me too! I'm so happy to have a date today. I always end up beggin' for some time, and now I got it-" fist pump "-y'know, not that I'm complainin'."

"Yeah, I was gonna sa-"

"I like begging." *Pedro smile.*

The interviewer doesn't quite catch it, "-y, the both of you are always booked and busy. How do you find time for each other?"

Pedro thinks, but is distracted when you walk up from behind him. He looks back when you place a hand on his shoulder. Immediately, he's forgotten all about the question and dotes on you. He brushes a hand on your cheek, asking you if you're okay. You whisper something but then catch the camera. You give a bashful smile, "oh, sorry to interrupt."

The interviewer immediately waves a hand, "oh, don't worry about it."

Pedro mutters something and kisses your hand. He holds it as he looks back to the interviewer. He opens his mouth then shakes his head, "sorry, what was the question?" Pedro laughs.

The woman chuckles then moves closer to you, "you know what, I'm sure people are dying to know, what's something you newlyweds like to do together?"

Pedro instantly turns to you.

You purse your lips in thought.

"I-"

"Watching movies," you say.

"I-" Pedro starts again, looking back to the interviewer, "I don't think we can say what we like to do."

*crickets*

Pedro looks at you, expression mischievous.

You stare back at him, eyes like daggers.

He holds back a laugh and leans into the mic, turning to the camera, "I can't say it. Talk to my lawyer."

The interviewer laughs and so do you, begrudingly.

"Talk to my lawyer," Pedro repeats proudly, breaking into a wide mouthed smile.

"Ok," you mutter, "pack it up, Pascal."

@alexielover: SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP BASHING MY HEAD AGAINST THE WALL WHAT THE FUCK @600MILK: MF SAID TALK TO MY LAWYER 🙄✋ SOBBING @oscarisaaacsz: watch him use that for everythingggggg 😭 @pedrogrill: LORD I HAVE SEEN WHAT YOU HAVE DONE FOR OTHERS @starwazfr: *sips clorox cutely* @emeryslala: and im supposed to sha la la baby after this? FOUL @pascpedro: respectfully, id pay to be their third @probelmaskt: PACK IT UP PASCAL???????????????????

[klaustozier]

brute ; miguel o'hara

SUMMARY: miguel is trying to work and you are not allowing him to concentrate.

warnings: miguel o'hara x fem!reader, MDI, miguel has sharp teeth as well as claws, remember that :); he will use his "web" to tie you up (I described how I thought it would be); oral (in both, but when you do it's rougher); slaps and spanking; degradation kink; mention of body hair (chest <3); nipple play; he is older (hihi); miguel swears in spanish (because i'm a whore); bigcock!miguel; there are no traumas here, miguel is not suffering from a loss, there is just fucking horny angry miguel here; no condom; light spit kink; no spoiler; and I described the way I think it would be easier to take his uniform off, I think the zipper is on the back, but it's not as sexy :3; begging; anal; gag

word count: 1.6k

english is not my first language, so i'm sorry for any mistakes

i'm sorry for not deliverying the aib fics, but i'm kinda swamped and obsessed with spider-verse, so i wanted to make something different :)

hope you enjoy it!

"You're getting on my nerves", said the older man.

You smiled innocently and rubbed your face against his knee, "Am I?"

Miguel was trying to work, he knew he shouldn't have brought you to the headquarters. You had promised you would behave and you had even kept your promise for half an hour. You soon got tired of just watching him tinker with all that technology and analyzing realities, it was boring just watching. So, like a good bored person, you tried to entertain yourself however you could. Your form of entertainment didn't match much with what Miguel planned for the day, he wanted to focus on work, but he soon noticed that you were ducking under his desk and started to bite his thigh still covered by the elastic cloth of his uniform.

It was no use asking you to stop, you continued as if he had no authority.

"I brought you to keep me company and not get in the way", Miguel said irritably, his handsome jaw locking.

"I just want to be close to you", you whispered, biting his thigh again.

"I hate you."

You smiled and rested your chin on his knee, "It doesn't look like it", and laughing softly, you felt the volume he displayed in his pants.

He took a deep breath, pulled his mask off with one hand and tossed it onto the table, his free hand grabbing your hair, pulling your face close to his, "You're testing me and you're not going to like where this is going. So stop."

"Am I really not going to like it, Miguel?", you asked, smiling wickedly.

"You won't", he agreed.

The elder clenched his free fist and pointed it downwards, immediately you reached your hands behind your back, feeling the warm red rope holding your wrists in place.

"Does it hurting?"

"No, sir."

He smiled showing his sharp fangs, "You're gonna wish you weren't such a dirty slut", he slapped you across the face and ran his thumb across your bottom lip.

"Please, Miguel…", you smiled, "Just take those gloves off, por dios."

He smiled, his sharp teeth shining in the reddish light of the office, "Puta madre…", Miguel took off the gloves of his beautiful uniform and slapped you once more in the face, receiving kisses on the palm of his hand, as if you were asking for forgiveness for hurting his hand with your face.

His hands were so beautiful, full of veins on the back and with long, sharp claws ready to destroy whatever he wanted.

If the uniform wasn't so perfect for Miguel, if it wasn't tailored to his body, maybe you could control himself, but you could see his thighs, the outline of his cock and ass, there was nothing that could distract you more.

The brunette's thumb slid across your tongue and saliva fell from his lips, earning a soft moan, seeing you roll your eyes before being kissed. His sharp teeth scraped gently against your bottom lip. His tongue rubbed against yours, your hands locked behind your body, the bright thread holding them together.

Miguel pulled the small zipper down the center of his uniform revealing his strong, broad chest. The short black hair spread across the skin, delicately cared for. The zipper continued down until it was under his cock, which was hard, pressed against the cloth glued to his body, resting to the left, pulsing gently.

"Do you want it?", asked the brunette, pulling his cock from his clothes, so thick and beautiful, the veins pulsing in the soft skin, the red tip begging for attention. You nodded desperately, "Then beg."

"Mr. O'Hara, please, I need to choke on your cock, fuck my mouth, please… I'm such a good girl…"

"Ah", he stopped you, holding up his finger, the long nail glistening, "We're not going to lie."

You chuckled and lifted yourself up towards his face, licking his lower lip, "I know how to be good, I just don't like doing it that much."

Miguel laughed softly and gave you a soft peck, "Stick your tongue out."

Promptly, you complied. Miguel took his cock and gently spanked your tongue with the tip, the soft wet sounds making you purr. Without any delicacy, the oldest held you by the hair and sank his cock into your mouth, forcing your head until your nose was pressed against his belly.

You moaned low feeling his cock once again widening your throat. Miguel sighed and groaned low, starting to move your head away from you, his hips rolling in opposite movements, thrusting into your mouth. Initially the movements were smooth, but soon they began to accelerate.

"Ay, carajo", he whispered, his low voice making you moan.

Your eyes watered, no matter how many times he fucked your mouth, your body always reacted that way. Your hands tried to force against the red webs on your wrists, your legs squeezing together to ease the throbbing on your pussy. He held your jaw just so he could watch his cock slide through your tongue.

Miguel positioned his leg between your legs, laughing evilly when you started to rub against him.

Pulling you by the hair, the brunette forced you to look at him, your mouth completely drooling and red, your eyes lowered, breathing hard, "Aren't you ashamed of being such a desperate slut? How ridiculous. You get dumb as fuck just because of a cock in your mouth..."

"Forgive me for being like this, sir, I can't control myself… what do I have to do for you to forgive me?"

Miguel smiled and said nothing, just kissed you desperately. His tongue once again dominating yours, his sharp teeth biting down on your bottom lip, controlling himself not to draw blood. His lips devouring yours.

"Lay it face down on my table."

Immediately you obeyed him. The brunette pulled your pants down and grabbed your legs, pulling them apart. His hands squeezed your ass tightly, his thumbs moving the lips of the delicate pussy apart, sighing, seeing how wet you already were.

"Ay, coño… all wet… fucking slut", he growled, giving a hard smack on your ass, making you moan.

You moaned slyly, your legs shaking, your face crushing papers that were on the table, feeling the wet tongue slide through your pussy, until it reached your clitoris. His hands rested on your delicate ass, squeezing, his claws pressing against the skin.

"Miguel", you whimpered.

"Slut", he chuckled, going back to his work.

His lips and tongue had fun with your pussy. Your hands ached trying to hold themselves in place, your legs shook, moaning.

"Miguel", you whispered, "can I cum?"

He grinned, slapping you hard on the ass, "No."

"Miguel… please… don't do that to me…"

"Shut up", he whispered.

The bright red web circled your face, gagging your mouth, not allowing you to continue to beg or cry. But that didn't stop you from muttering.

"Carajo, you don't shut up", he laughed at the whimper you gave, laying his body over yours, "If I get you full of cum, you stay quiet?"

You nodded, getting a slap on the ass. A soft moan escaped your lips as the tip of his cock rubbed through the wet pussy, gliding effortlessly.

"Fucking pussy."

A strangled moan caught in your throat, your mouth still gagged, as his cock sinking into you all at once, going deep.

His hands held you squeezing the flesh of your ass, using it support to help with the movements. As he thrust into you, he forced your body to do the opposite, just going deeper and deeper.

The sound of skin hitting skin filled the room. His moans low and rough, yours were muffled by the gag.

Your body started to shake on the table, you were about to cuj, but Miguel pulled out of you. He growled low seeing his cock all wet from all your pleasure.

"Open for me", he ordered, releasing your wrists.

You didn't have time to feel pain, your hands were routed by his rough hands to your ass, holding yourself open for him as he smeared saliva on your cock.

O'Hara positioned the tip of his cock in the tight entrance and began to force its way in. Big, strong body leaning over yours, crushing you against the table.

The gag was also undone so that the brunette could kiss you. His movements were less rough than before, but they were still accurate and made you whimper softly.

"You're going to be full of cum, princess", he whispered, his lips pressed against yours, his sharp teeth scraping on your lower lip on purpose.

"Miguel… please… I swear I'll be quiet, but let me cum… please… I beg you…"

"Of course, princess", he kissed you once more, his lips close to yours as he said, "Masturbate yourself for me."

And that's what you did, one of your hands went straight between your legs and you started masturbating frantically, desperate for relief. The other remained in place, leaving it open so he could continue to enjoy himself.

One of his strong hands tightened around your waist, keeping you in place and the other gripped your hair, kissing you desperately.

It didn't take long for you to cum even more after feeling his cum fill you. You panted heavily as he smirked and kissed you again.

"Now are you going to stop teasing like a whore?", asked Miguel getting out of you.

"Yes, sir, I will stop."

"Promise?"

"No."

He chuckled, giving you, and yet, another slap on the ass, "Now come on, let's get you straightened up and get you something to eat."

And Miguel pulled you by the waist, adjusting your clothes and his so he could take care of you a little before he could go back to work.

...

well, i hope you liked it <3

please reblog and leave a like if you enjoyed it! and leave a comment with your thoughts, i would love to know!

maybe if there is a lot of comments i can comeback with a hobie story <3

see ya next time.

(´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

♡masterlist♡

[star-suh]

Threesome with Shinee Minho and Lucas?

Ménage à Trois

choi minho & wong yukhei x male reader

cw: threesome, top minho, verse lucas but only at the end, bottom m! reader, pwp, idol au, tummy bulge, degrading, they're fuck buddies, fingering, blowjob, double penetration, slapping.

—

it was during the end of the year awards where minho, lucas and y/n met, they became good friends until one day the three of them went out to drink until they passed out, only to realize the next day that they had sex 'cause the marks, used condoms and y/n's gaping hole. that was the start of their fuck buddies relationship.

"you take me so well" said minho kissing and bitting y/n's adam's apple while lucas was leaving butterfly kisses on y/n's back. "yeah" murmured lucas "he's the slutiest slut i've ever fucked, look how he takes it all".

"fuck" grunted minho "i know you love my cock but don't squeeze so hard". "shit" moaned y/n "what can i do… you're so fucking big and thick". both minho and y/n started to moan loudly when lucas started to suck and licked minho's cock while entering y/n's hole, tasting both at the same time. "what the fuck are you doing lucas" growled minho, lucas laughed and made eye contact with the older man "free lub" he says going back to lick them both.

minho pulled his cock out of y/n's gaping hole to avoid cumming soon, and started to finger him emitting wet and squelching noises "hey take care of this here" minho told to the other idol who went quickly behind y/n and without thinking started to fuck him rough like he was a sex deprived teenager "what the f-fuck has gotten in…to you~ luc-...hng" whimpered y/n feeling lucas cock deep inside him, tears streaming down his face.

minho wiped the tears with his cock's head "shush, don't cry pretty boy. here, suck this" he says slapping his thick meat on y/n's lips, he opened his mouth and choked on the older's cock loving the salty taste of the pre-cum.

"come here" minho lifted y/n, his back against minho's firm chest and abs "fuck him like that" he told to lucas who just nodded and resumed what he was doing before. "you like how he pounds you?" minho bit and kissed y/n's jaw "yes, i do. but i also like how you stretch me. i-i feel… like i could live… with your cock inside m-me forever~" both kissed and lucas started to suck y/n's nipples, the bottom was starting to feel overstimulated so he decided to stop both of them "wait" he said "i want to feel you both inside at the same time. please" he begged. "as you wish manwhore" said lucas excited.

minho layed on the bed and y/n sat on top of him, sunking in his dick, lucas slapped your already stuffed hole inserting his fingers too "such a greedy dirty hole" he then slapped his cock in your hole and insert his tip, then his shaft until he is finally all inside y/n. both thrusted, when one cock is out the other enters never leaving y/n empty, a bulge forming in his lower tummy "you sure are something" mentioned minho rubbing the tummy bulge making y/n squirm and whimper.

lucas started to stroke y/n's cock while the latter was playing with minho's chest and nipples, "i'm gonna cum" growled minho followed by lucas "me too" and y/n was just moaning nonsenses. both tops came inside y/n while the bottom painted minho's abs and tits with white ropes of thick cum. as the hornier one lucas kept thrusting with minho's cock still inside y/n "fuck, i love the sound your ass is making with our cum inside it" he says "I'm going to churn all that milk until it's deep inside you, so when another cock comes in there it will find our milk and it will knows who that ass belongs to" he says slapping the ass. minho just laughed at lucas dominance attempt "cute" he murmured. the trio kept fucking all day taking turns on y/n's ass or minho fucking lucas while he gives a blowjob to y/n "aren't you tired already?" asked y/n to minho. "no. i have enough stamina and enough cum in these heavy balls for you too whores" he says spitting into his cock to introduce it into y/n… again.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

For anyone curious this marks the fourth disabled!reader drabble-verse, mostly sharing with a Jason Todd centric one. There is also a Diana Prince one and a Bruce Wayne one. (Take this a freebie for any of those if you want)

Seen a lot of poly things and not a lot of disability rep! I just don't have another tag for it

You pick at dinner and try to eat. And not cry. But christ it hurts. So fucking much. Why Wade picked Jackass to watch you didn't know. Maybe he thought it would distract you.

It didn't, but you appreciated the effort. It was hard to distract from pain that was this... loud. It was at least an 8 to you. Normal people would probably call it a 10. Possibly an 11.

"You gotta eat before you take your meds, Sugar tits," Wade said wagging a finger at you as he put ice on your lower back. "If you don't, your stomach is gonna turn itself inside out."

"It's really good," you tell him, "I'm just not hungry." You wince when your voice cracks. When it sounds like a whine. And try not to apologize. Logan hates it and Wade will make a fuss. "I'm just... tired. I'll be okay."

"So," Wade mused around a mouthful, "Ice is a bust. Food is good but you're too miserable to eat, what next?"

"Back rub?" Logan hummed. That had helped before. After things got too rough. After you'd had a nasty fall. And after some idiot rear-ended the car one day. Not to mention it was just a good way to get you to relax. And you were wound so tight he was afraid you were gonna crack your teeth clenching your jaw.

You nod hesitantly. That sounded good. They were good at finding knots and pressing on places that needed the pressure.

"And I won't even try to get it in- you anyway," Wade said, taking your plate as he kissed your forehead.

Logan got up and held his hand out, ready to help you to your feet. But what he wasn't ready for was when you got up, achingly slowly and cried out, pitching forward.

"Shh," he soothed, shifting you carefully into his arms. "It's okay. You're okay. Don't cry."

"God it fucking hurts!"

"I know. I know." He did. And he didn't. And he felt helpless.

Wade dropped dishes into the sink and for once, he couldn't make jokes. Logan looked like he was going to puke. And you were crying. "We gotcha, hang on," he said, shoving bedding onto the floor so you could be laid down. And Logan was careful. Not wanting to jostle anything anymore.

"Wiggle worm around until it feels right," Wade said, waiting for you to readjust. Putting a pillow under one of your legs where you usually put it. "Deep breath, Peanut."

Logan growled softly, wincing when Wade ran his hands down your back and dug his fingers into the hard muscles. You inhaled sharply and tangled your hand around the railing around the headboard. "I know Angel baby," he crooned. "Hurts like a mother fucker. You can cry. Or scream."

You bury your face in the pillow and bite down, trying to muffle the noise and Logan can feel the claws under his skin. Just barely able to hold them back as you cry yourself out.

"Not the way I like having our girl crying, Peanut," Wade said. "These muscles are so fucking hard. No wonder it hurts."

Logan swallowed hard and moved closer settling between your feet and rubbing up the backs of your legs. Working down into your feet. You said they tingled. That worried him. Why was that? And your hands? Was something pinched?

A muffled scream stopped him short and he looked at Wade who had also stopped. "Fuck! God Fuck! I hate this! I fucking hate it!"

"Baby," Wade said, "You gotta take the meds before Wolvie loses his fuckin' mind."

"I can't think when I take them."

"Don't need you to think," Logan grumbled. "Need you to sleep."

"That's peanut for, 'You're breaking our hearts right now," Wade translated. "The subtext is that he might puke."

"Shut up."

"See?" Wade said, smoothing his hands over your back, "Time to get high as fuck and go to sleep. Tomorrow we'll see if you can function."

[jo-harrington]

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 27 - You'll Be In My Heart

Summary: Eddie and the boys fight their homesickness when they're on the road for the summer.

Word Count: 964

Rating: T

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader

Warnings/Themes: Friendship, fluff, allusion to sex, discussion of marriage

Note: Alright final Saturday of this event, I'm both sad and excited, it's been a really great one. For this day, I'm going back to my fondest series, my baby, The Store Manager Verse. It's specifically set before the proposal in Longevity and it very much explores how Eddie got the idea to propose to Store Manager at all.

And I might've fucked up the timeline and my own fic canon so just...if you notice something, shhh no you didn't.

Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you didn’t start on Day 1, you can still join!

Tagging: @the-unforgivenn at her request.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

August 1990

The summer of '90 was a special one.

It was Corroded Coffin's first real life tour. Well, not really.

"Actually," you told them when they broke the news to you, "you're forgetting about the Independence Day Tour of '87."

"We didn't make t-shirts for that one, sweetheart," Eddie teased and dropped a kiss on the top of your head before diving into the details.

It wasn't a true tour in the sense that they'd pack up the van and hit the road and never look back until the tour was over--that would require them quitting their jobs for a time, something their wallets desperately couldn't handle. But a few days off here to go to this festival? A few days off there to enter into this Battle of the Bands? That was doable.

It was as close to a tour as they were gonna get for a little while, and it was gonna help them get further in their music career.

It also prepared them.

Being away from home for a few days at a time prepared them for an inevitable week or month or year that they could potentially face if their star grew brighter.

Eddie quickly realized, though, how much he would miss you when that time came, because he missed you terribly now.

He started seeing you everywhere he looked. Foods he thought you might like to try, love songs that reminded him of you. Someone at one county fair even did a cover of Beth, which he would argue was your song. And at one fest, there was a booth with hand drawn postcards featuring cute fuzzy animals with nefarious settings in the background.

It started with one of those.

A postcard of a kitten with a big purple bow sitting in a haunted forest. Purple for Claires, he explained when he presented it to you on their return home. You gushed over it, said that you loved it, and it went up on the fridge.

Until the next time the guys were out of town.

Next it was special chocolate caramel candies with thick sea salt on top from a booth that sat next to the main stage. They had probably eaten more chocolate than any other food during that trip; you had to try it.

Then a big over stuffed teddy bear--

"It's an Eddie Bear, actually." He pointed to the denim vest it wore. "See?"

--that he won playing a game of ring toss.

A huge tin of assorted fudge from Mackinac Island and a promise to take you with next time they went.

A necklace made of special stone beads that supposedly helped with everlasting love or something; he'd gotten to choose a tarot card when he bought it. He got the two of cups, whatever that meant.

Each and every gift that Eddie brought you when he was away was special. Some big, some small. Some made you ooh and aww, some made you cry because of how much you missed your idiot boyfriend, one even earned him...well...lets just say his bandmates, who you shared a duplex with, made themselves scarce for the evening.

But it was the last stop on the tour that brought maybe the best gift, the most meaningful. It made Eddie really stop and think because...well, this was the stop that they were debuting a new song about his parents and his childhood and how the future wasn't set in stone and you couldn't change things that were bad for you, even with the best intentions.

Marriage is a Death Sentence.

So it was ironic that the first thing to catch his eye would be a ring.

Not a typical engagement ring, not a diamond or really anything big and shiny at all. It was strange and artsy and interesting but when he saw it there at that little crafters booth...he just thought of you.

It was a weird thought. Jarring.

And it scared him.

He turned tail and walked right out of the booth, stopped at a stand where they sold little critters made of recycled wire and bought you a tiny porcupine. There, done, gift bought, no need to think of it anymore.

But he couldn't stop thinking about the ring for the rest of their time there. Not when they performed, not when they ate lunch, not when they packed the van at the end of the night to go home.

He hadn't given marriage much thought when he was younger. He liked dating, liked dating you. You never brought it up, neither did he. But then you took him as your date for Jen's wedding a few years back, and the two of you talked about it and of course you were on the same page. Couldn't see yourselves doing the whole commotion, no suits or dresses, no desire to have your families and friends stare at you for hours.

Not to mention some of those vows were just heinous.

No wonder Al and Elizabeth Munson were destined for heartbreak if they vowed to honor and obey...blegh.

So marriage? No, not at all. Immediately no.

But you? Forever with you? You were his best friend. Wouldn't say his soulmate, that was Jeff obviously and you had no problem with that. But you were...you were you.

So the answer was a resounding yes. Always.

Eddie ran, faster than he'd run in a long time if ever, through the booths as everyone packed up for the night, to the little crafters stall from earlier.

"I was just about to pack up," the vendor laughed as Eddie caught his breath. "You made it just in time."

It was fate.

He pointed where the ring still sat, as it if was waiting for him, and said,

"I'll take it."